#Dutch Oven Wild
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Wild-Gulasch aus dem Dutch Oven
Rezeptvorstellung von Markus Sämmer Zutaten für 4 Personen1,5 kg Wildfleisch ausgelöst(aus der Keule; von Hirsch,Reh oder Wildschwein)4 EL neutrales Pflanzenöl2 Gemüsezwiebeln2 EL Tomatenmark250 ml Rotwein5 Wacholderbeeren4 Gewürznelken4 Pimentkörner2 Zweige Rosmarin800 ml WildfondSalzfrisch gemahlener Pfeffer2 EL Quittengelee Abb.: © DK Verlag, Texte + Rezepte: Markus Sämmer, Foodfotografie:…
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#Dorling Kindersley Verlag#Dutch Oven Wild#Foodblog#Jagdblog#Markus Sämmer#Rezept Wild Dutch Oven#The Great Outdoors#The Great Outdoors - Into the Wild#The Great Outdoors – Into the Wild: Das Kochbuch für nachhaltigen Fleischgenuss#Wild-Gulasch Dutch Oven#Wildblog
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I love how my fire alarm doesn't go off when smoke is coming out of every vent on my oven, but if my toast is ever so slightly past perfect it goes off.
#text#no i didnt burn the bread#just oven at 525 finds any and every spill you ever had in the oven#also my oven mitts wete starting to smoke when i took the preheated dutch oven out#kinda wild#ovens at proper baking temps are scary
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Flash Forward - M. Verstappen (part two)
summary: The world of F1 is never easy. Throw in your childhood enemy and a new coworker you can't quite get a read on? You're in for a wild season.
pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, childhood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader, Logan Sargeant x platonic fem!reader
warnings: swearing, drinking, use of y/n, google translated Dutch, inaccurate descriptions of the Ferrari factory (literally couldn’t find ANY photos), mild slut shaming, brief mention of Jos Verstappen. Some of the race results are slightly inaccurate to fit the storyline. Sue me.
a/n: part 2 is finally here!!! Hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it!
word count: 24.7k
masterlist
part one
Monte Carlo, Monaco
The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled your apartment as the oven timer beeped. You got up from your spot on the floor, past the dozens of half unpacked boxes that littered the floor, and transferred the treats from the oven to a cooling rack.
The offseason had treated you well so far. Charles and Alexandra had helped you pick out an apartment in Monaco, you had visited your friends and family back home, and you hadn’t seen a single gossip page post about you and a certain Dutchman.
Charles, Alexandra, and yourself were in the middle of attempting to unpack your stuff. You were grateful for the two of them helping you, but the building you had chosen felt oddly familiar. Though a finger couldn’t be placed on why it did.
“What are you even doing with all of those?” Charles asked as he got off of the couch and made his way to the counter opposite of you.
“Giving them away to the neighbors” You said “A little offering for me being in the building”
It was a gesture your mama had suggested when she heard you were moving out of the Netherlands. Three dozen cookies were scattered around your counter, with one last dozen being scooped onto the baking tray. Plenty for the people on your floor, and a few left over for snacking.
“Why? You’re probably never going to see your neighbors ever again” He said, grabbing one of the cooled cookies and taking a bite out of it “These are really good”
“Charl!” Alexandra chided her boyfriend as she finished setting up a few of your framed photos on the bookcase
“It’s all good, Alex. I made extra for a reason. Help yourself” You said as you slid one of the plates of cooled cookies closer to the girl
You watched as her eyes lit up when she took a bite of the treat “He’s right. These are so good. Where’s the recipe from?”
“Family recipe. I got it from mama” You replied
“Ugh I’ll have to bug her for it. But I know your neighbors are going to love them” She said
She was right, the neighbors that you got to meet did love them. As the days passed, you were able to meet the couple that lived to the left, the girl that lived to the right, and the group of guys that lived down the hall. But no matter how many times you knocked on the door across from you, no one was home.
You assumed the apartment was empty at first. There were a handful of units that the building was trying to rent out, and the one across the hall must have been one of them. But your idea was quickly thrown out the window by small signs of life from the apartment.
They started small, with Amazon packages in front of the door. The idea to check and see who they were addressed to popped in your head, but you quickly dismissed the thought. You wouldn’t be able to live down the embarrassment of someone catching you in the act.
A pair of APL sneakers were the next thing you found out by the door. They had to be male, with a size around size 41, and painted white with touches of navy blue. No distinctive marks about who the shoes belonged to. The shoes stayed there for a few days, occasionally with a padel racquet propped up against them.
It wasn’t until you returned home one day that you got to meet the person who lived across the hall. You had been out and about taking photos while exploring the city of Monte Carlo. Your feet ached and all you wanted was to lay down and take a nap.
You were at your door, fiddling to find the right key to your apartment, when the door from across the hall flew open. Jumping out of your skin, you turned to see who was the cause, and came face to face with the man you thought you wouldn’t have to see for at least a few more months.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Max questioned, his eyebrows furrowed
“Trying to remember which key is the one to my door.” You said, jiggling the keys you had on your lanyard like it was obvious, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I live here” Max answered, pointing back to the apartment he had just come out of
At that moment, everything made sense. Of course the building felt familiar, you were in it roughly eight months prior after the Monaco Grand Prix. Of course Charles got all giggly when you told him this was the unit you chose.
“Oh, riiighhtt” You said, pretending to remember as you searched through your keys once again. Thankfully, you quickly found the one you were looking for as you sped the next sentence out of your mouth, “Well it was great seeing you but I have things to do. I’ll see you around”
Max couldn’t get a word out as you hastily unlocked your door and entered your apartment, closing the door behind you.
But Max stood there in the hall, processing what happened. And you missed the small whisper of “It’s good to see you too” that left his mouth.
Your camera bag was tossed carelessly on the floor as you whipped out your phone. Normally disregarding your prized possession like that would cause you to wince, but you had more pressing matters on your hands.
The phone rang once, then twice, then a third time, and you were starting to think she wouldn’t pick up. You knew she was awake, it was the same time back home as it was in Monaco. After the fourth ring, her voice finally filled your ears.
“Hoi lieverd, hoe gaat het met de verhuizing? (Hi dear, how’s the move going?) ” Your mama asked as she answered the phone
“Niet slecht, er staan nog steeds overal dozen (Not bad, there’s still boxes everywhere)” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair.
“Uitpakken is altijid lastig. Uiteingelijik kom je er wel doorheen (Unpacking is always a pain. You’ll get through it eventually).” She assured you. “Heb jij je buren al ontmoet? (Have you met your neighbors yet?)”
“Ja, ze lijken allemaal leuk. Je raadt nooit wie er aan de overkant van de gang woont. (Yeah they all seem nice. You’ll never guess who lives across the hall)” You said as you moved to one of the scattered boxes. It was labeled dishes.
“Wie? (Who?)” Your mama asked as you started to put some of your plates away into a cabinet
“Max Verstappen” You answered. Silence overcame the two of you as she processed what you said “Mama?”
“Is dat niet prachtig, pompoen! (Isn’t that lovely, pumpkin!)” She exclaimed once it finally hit her. “Je hebt een bekend gezicht in het gebouw! (You have a familiar face in the building!)
“Nee, mama. We zijn geen vrienden meer. Ik heb je verteld wat er vorig seizoen gebeurd is -. (No mom. We’re not friends anymore. I told you what happened last season -.)” You began to protest, but your mama was having none of it. Your mama knew exactly what had happened with Max, but that didn’t stop her from her delusions.
“Ja, ja. Maar je kunt hem beter uitnodigen voor een etentje. Nu moet ik gaan. Ik heb koekjes in de oven. (Yes, yes. But you better have him over for dinner. Now I have to go. I have cookies in the oven.)” She said.
You said your goodbyes, and hung up, leaving you alone in your apartment to unpack, across the hall from an unexpected neighbor.
======
Max returned later that day, bags full of items he bought on his errands. He was greeted by a small plastic sandwich bag on his doormat. A mere moment away from stepping on its contents, he only realized it was there by the crinkle under his foot. He didn’t think anything of it as he picked it up and carried it into the apartment with the rest of his stuff.
The bag was filled with cookies, and a handwritten note was taped to the outer plastic. Calligraphy donned the piece of paper that looked familiar, but Max couldn’t place where from.
Thanks for welcoming me to the neighborhood. Enjoy the taste of home :)
The cookies looked exactly like the ones from his childhood. The ones he could only get at the grade school bake sale. The ones he would purchase with his saved up money from raking leaves and shoveling snow.
Thoughts of what could happen crossed his mind. He knew it could easily end badly, eating some cookies randomly showing up on his doorstep. But the second he dumped the treats out on a plate, all worries left his mind.
When the cookie hit his taste buds, he was suddenly nine again. The bake sale had just opened. Kids crowding around one particular woman, all trying to get their hands on that chocolate chip cookie.
And now one of the few people in the world who knew that cookie recipe lived across the hall from him.
Maranello, Italy
The sun beat down as you skated down the sidewalk outside the Ferrari factory. Italy in the winter was warmer than you expected, much warmer than the winters back home, causing you to leave your puffy coat in the car. The cracks in the uneven sidewalk caused the board to wobble underneath you, forcing you to hop off before you reached the front doors.
It was the first full staff preseason meeting of the year, and the factory seemed to have a new life to it. Naturally, you showed up a bit early, giving you plenty of time to poke around and take some photos. There was no real goal, just to get the point across that the factory hadn’t sat empty for the past two months.
You were standing on the mezzanine balcony that overlooked the main entrance to the building. As people would enter, you were able to snap photos from above. Most people walked right under, not even noticing you were there, but occasionally you would be spotted and get a wave or two.
Carlos was the first of the drivers to walk in. The clicks of your camera prompted him to look up, the classic confused look plastered to his face.
“What are you doing?” He asked
“My job” You answered before joking “Can you pretend to not look miserable to see me”
“That’s kind of hard to do” Charles said as he entered the atrium, hearing your conversation. You rolled your eyes as you continued to snap photos of the two drivers.
“He’s not wrong.” Carlos mumbled, fighting the smirk on his lips “But I meant with the tripod.” He pointed to the tripod that stood next to you, angled down at the atrium entrance.
“I’m filming” You stated “Most of the film will probably be posted on the Ferrari socials, but some stuff, like this conversation, I’ll scrap and throw in a vlog.”
“You’re vlogging?” Charles asked
“Why?” Carlos added
“Are you trying to become internet famous?” Charles finished, curiosity lacing his words.
“What? No,” You said, rejecting his claim “I’m doing it to spread awareness about women in motorsports. There’s only a handful of us to raise the next generation.”
“Wow. That’s a lot better than being internet famous.” Carlos said, clearly impressed
“Thank you Carlos. I’ll see you guys at the meeting. I have a few more things I wanna shoot before I head to the room.” You said. The two drivers made their way under the balcony towards the meeting room.
Packing up your phone and tripod, you headed down to the main level of the building to capture a few more photos. The loud chatter of people echoed the halls as the meeting room doors were wide open. As you entered, you were one of the last ones to the room. Charles, Carlos, Benedetto, and all the higher ups who you were sure didn’t know your name sat at the front. You made your way towards the back of the room, somehow finding a seat next to Annalese.
“Hey” You said as you slid into your seat, carefully putting your camera bag at your feet. Since it was just the intro meeting, you had no reason to photograph Benedetto and the other execs droning on.
“Hey! How are you doing? How was your break?” Annalese asked
You shrugged. “Not bad, definitely busy. I moved to Monaco, which has been exhausting.”
“Wait, that's so exciting! Didn’t Albon and Russell just move there?” She asked
“Alex did? I’ve seen George, Lando and Charles quite a bit, but didn’t realize he moved too. We had a few game and movie nights during the break.” You told her “The only thing that sucks about it is that Max lives literally right across the hall.”
“No he doesn’t” Annalese said in disbelief
“Yes he does”
“The universe really decided to torture you” Annalese chuckled
“Don’t even get me started” You replied “He hasn’t been a problem yet.”
“That’s good.” She said before her face lit up. “Oh my god I almost forgot. Y/n, this is Isabella. She’s the new photographer we hired. Isabella, this is Y/n.”
Your attention turned from your boss to the girl sitting on the other side of her. Her long brunette hair matched perfectly with her eyes. The name tag everyone was forced to wear during their first few days was pinned to her Ferrari branded polo. You were aware that the company had been looking for a new photographer to help lighten Annalese’s workload, but wasn’t informed they had actually hired one.
“Hi, I’m Y/n” You introduced yourself “It’s so nice to meet you. Welcome to Ferrari”
Isabella responded with a soft smile as she spoke “Thank you.”
Just like you thought, most of the execs that spoke during the meeting droned on. Once you heard one of them lack any enthusiasm as they claimed they were so excited for the entire season, you could block out the rest. The speaker that made you snap out of your daydreaming was none other than the new Team Principal, Fred Vasseur.
“Wow guys” Fred began, his voice bellowing through the room. “It is an absolute honor standing in front of you guys today. I know each and every one of you work your asses off every day to make this team run, and I am more than excited to work with all of you.”
Sakir, Bahrain
The first day back in the paddock was always nerve racking. Teams were making final adjustments to the cars before the public got to see them, rookies were about to make their debuts in the cars they dreamed of driving as kids, and you were back to running around like a mad man.
Even though the paddock was full of anxiety and preseason jitters, it was also full of a sense of familiarity. Faces that you haven’t seen since Abu Dhabi, and names of people that you couldn’t quite remember.
Ferrari had moved up to the second garage along pitlane, with Mercedes dropping and kicking out McLaren. Unfortunately, Red Bull was still on the other side of the red terminals, after winning the Constructors Championship last season.
You were in the midst of giving Isabella her paddock tour, just as Annalese did you a year prior. The new photographer took in all of the information you gave her: which teams prefer visitors on what days, what teams to avoid, and which teams will let you sneak into hospitality and take a warm chocolate chip cookie (Thanks Williams).
As you approached Williams, you noticed a blonde headed boy you had never seen before. He was standing next to Alex, who towered over him, the two of them in deep conversation. The blonde seemed much more reserved, taking everything in rather than doing much of the talking.
You slowed your pace, glancing at Isabella to see her taking in the scene. Alex exuded his usual vibrant energy, while the blonde exuded a quiet focus, his blue eyes absorbed every detail.
The Ferrari red polos always made you stick out like a sore thumb near the blue Williams garage. Alex quickly caught sight of you, waving both you and Isabella over.
“Y/n!” he called “It’s so good to see you. How was your winter break?”
“Not bad. Charles convinced me to join the Monaco group” you replied, excitement bubbling inside you
“He did? We’ll have to meet up sometime when we’re both back home. Lily and I will have to show you some of our favorite spots”
“You’ll have to beat Charles and Alexandra to it” you warned before turning to your coworker. “This is Isabella, our new photographer for the season.”
“It’s so nice to meet you” she said, giving the driver and the blonde a warm smile.
“I’m Alex, and this is our new driver, Logan”
Logan offered a shy smile, his blue eyes bright with curiosity. “Hi, nice to meet you both” he said, his voice soft but steady
Isabella’s excitement to be in the paddock seemed to encourage the blonde “So, how are you finding your first race weekend, Logan?” She asked
“It’s amazing” He replied, glancing at Alex before continuing “Everything is so fast paced, and there’s so much to learn, but I love it.”
Alex chimed in “He’s been doing really great, really picking up on things quickly. We’re lucky to have him.”
Logan glanced down to your red polo before remeeting your eyes. “Are you also a photographer?”
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips, “Yeah, I mostly work with Charles, but you’ll probably see me bouncing all around Ferrari.”
Logan copied your nod, clearly intrigued with your role in the team “That sounds really cool. It must be amazing to be so close to everything.”
“It is. It’s definitely overwhelming at times, but that’s just part of the fun” you said
Further down pit lane was Ferrari’s former neighbors, and sure enough the garage was bustling. Mechanics were busy assembling the car, engineers were analyzing the data from testing, while Lando and an unnamed man were yapping right outside.
“So that’s Lando, he’s one of the McLaren drivers.” You informed Isabella as you pointed to the curly haired man. “And I’m going to be so honest, I have no idea who the other guy is.”
At the sound of your voice saying your name, Lando’s head turned. The other guy followed suit, his eyes landing on the two of you. Lando broke into a smile upon seeing you, while the unnamed man’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Y/n!” The Brit exclaimed as he walked over to you “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you”
“You saw me last week, Lando.” You informed him. “This is Isabella, she’s the new Ferrari photographer”
As you looked between the two of them, you could see Isabella practically throwing heart eyes at the driver. Was he conventionally attractive? Sort of. But knowing his playboy personality, he wasn’t someone you’d wanna be with romantically.
“I’m Lando” He said as if it wasn’t obvious before motioning to the other guy to come join the group. “And this is Oscar. He’s my new teammate”
“Hi guys” He said, a thick Australian accent peaking through. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, much less enthusiastic with the unexpected guests. You assumed his demeanor was just from the nerves of the first day, all of the new information and new people popping in and out was overwhelming.
“I’m y/n” You said “Isabella and I are both photographers for Ferrari”
You learned a bit more about the Aussie, both from him telling you and Lando making slight comments. Lando joined you in swapping stories from the paddock, filling both of the newbies in. Each time Lando spoke, you swore hearts grew in her pupils.
“They seem nice” Isabella spoke as the two of you finally left the papaya behind
“I can’t vouch for Oscar, but I know Lando is. Most of the drivers are good guys.” You told her
Thankfully she didn’t ask for any explanation on what you meant by most. Having to explain your personal childhood beef and adult situation with the reigning World Champion would’ve bruised your ego a bit too much.
Finally, you found yourselves standing in front of the final garage on pit lane. The navy blue was ice cold, a complete one eighty from the slight warmth it gave you before. The garage was emptier than McLaren’s but still had a few stragglers working on the cars.
“And last but not least, Red Bull. Last years Constructor’s Champion, and home to last year’s Driver’s Champion” You said
“And home to the best content team on the grid” A voice said.
Both you and Isabella turned around to see Meg approaching. You shook your head, but cracked a grin as you introduced the two girls to each other.
“You’ll probably be seeing her and the other Red Bull girls pretty often. Aside from being garage neighbors, we do collab content with them occasionally” You informed the new photographer
“Speaking of which, we have something scheduled in an hour.” Meg told you
Your eyes widened as you processed her words. “We do?”
======
And that’s how you found yourself, along with the rest of the Red Bull and Ferrari media teams, outside the teams’ hospitalities. Two hippity hops balls were in your hands, one blue and one red. Yourself, along with Isabella were setting up the activity you were forcing the four drivers to do, while Meg, Sofi, and Jess were setting up the cameras and lighting.
“What the hell are you making us do?” Charles asked as both him and Carlos exited the Ferrari motorhome. At the same time, Checo and Max joined the group as they made their way through the paddock.
Holding up the hippity hops, a shit eating grin formed on your face as you answered “We’re playing a game!”
When Max’s gaze first landed on you, his heart skipped a beat. Your hair color slightly changed since he saw you in the hallway, but you looked just as amazing in the Ferrari polo he knew you were forced to wear. He only looked away when Meg was giving directions.
“The rules are simple” Meg said once everything was set up. “The first person is going to hop the hippity hop from this tape mark, to the table down there. When you get to the table, there is a track name written on a piece of paper. When you’re done drawing the track, you turn around and hop back. Give the ball to your teammate and they’re going to do the same thing”
“There are four different tracks so no one can cheat,” Jess added.
As expected, chaos ensued. Opposing drivers tried knocking each other off of their rides, while laughs were held back by everyone on the media teams. Fans and employees alike couldn’t help but stop and watch for a few moments as four of the best drivers on the grid made an absolute fool of themselves.
After a highly competitive race, the Red Bull boys were deemed the winners. The media teams cleaned up the mess that was made, as the four drivers simply meandered around, yapping to whoever would listen.
You were breaking down the foldable table with Isabella as Max approached. Out of the corner of your eye, Max fiddled with the Red Bull can in his hands, trying to figure out what to say to you.
“Hey” Max finally said
“Hi Max” You replied, your focus still on the table that wouldn’t fold
The hand that wasn’t messing with the Red Bull was stuck in his pocket. “Just wanted to say thank you for the cookies. They were really good”
Your eyes broke from the table to meet his for the first time that day. “You ate them?”
When you put the cookies on his doormat, you didn’t know what would happen to them. You assumed he would just ignore them or throw them out. The thought of him eating them didn’t come close to crossing your mind.
“I mean, yeah” He answered as if it was obvious “It was the same recipe your mama always made for the bake sale, right?”
“I-yeah, they are. She gave me the recipe when I graduated grade school” You told him. It was hard enough to process the fact that he ate your cookie peace offering. But for him to remember that it was your mama’s recipe, and the same one she brought to all of the fundraisers truly blew you away.
“They taste just like how I remembered them,” Max said. “Hope the move to Monaco wasn’t too bad”
“It was pretty easy. Charles and Alexandra helped pick out the place. The two of them and a couple other guys on the grid helped me move in and unpack. I think the hardest part was meeting my crazy neighbor that lives across the hall.” You joked, though it was partially true.
“You two know each other?” Isabella asked, causing you to break your gaze away from Max. To be completely honest, you forgot she was even there. The table had been folded up and she heard your entire conversation.
“Yeah, we uh” You began, not really sure how to label the childhood enemies to semi friends to whatever you are now.
“We grew up together,” Max finished. You gave him a quick smile, thanking him for saving you.
“Grew up together and I happened to move into the apartment across the hall from him. Didn’t even know he lived there.” You said “If you want to head back to Ferrari, go ahead. I’m taking these to the Energy Station and then I’ll be back”
The two of you watched as Isabella made her way back to the red and black motorhome. Neither of you dared to move a muscle until she was gone.
“How’s the new girl been?” He asked
You glanced back to the Ferrari motorhome to make sure she was gone before speaking. “She’s okay. Definitely gonna take a few races to grasp everything. She was eyeing Lando earlier when we ran into him on her pit tour”
“Somehow I’m not surprised” Max said, shaking his head “He could breathe and girls would flock to him”
“Right” You agreed.
Max wasn’t sure how the first interaction with you during the season would go. He was expecting you to ignore him, storm off or cause a scene. The absolute last thing on his list was you being willing to hold a conversation.
“Do you need help carrying the table?” Max asked, though he was slightly relieved when you declined the offer. His hands were sweaty, and with his luck, he’d end up dropping it.
The two of you grew quiet as neither of you knew what to say. The sound of your shoes crunching on the broken asphalt filled the air.
“So you didn’t move across the hall to get closer to me?” Max joked, breaking the temporary silence
“No Max, I didn’t” You answered “I honestly completely forgot you even lived in that building. When I went to your place, it was late at night in a city I didn’t know at the time”
“I figured. I’m surprised Charles didn’t say anything” He said
“I’d honestly be more surprised if he had told me” You chuckled. Charles was definitely a yapper, but he knew you would’ve tossed any thought of moving to Monaco if you knew you’d be neighbors with Max.
“That’s fair, he’s picky with what info he shares” Max said “How’ve you been though, since last season?”
“Really good” You answered “All the crazy rumors have gone away.”
The words hit Max harder than they should’ve. You were never his, and he was never yours. But god did he wish you were. Rumors were the closest he had gotten, and he never wanted more than those crazy rumors to be true.
“That’s good, glad they all died down.” He said. The last thing he needed was to ruin the civility between you. So, he swallowed the lump of feelings and forced a smile.
You had dropped the table off outside of the motorhome for their media team to pick up when they got there. Quickly, goodbyes were said before you made your way back to Ferrari.
======
The race on Sunday was forgettable.
Charles had done well until he was forced to retire due to an engine failure. While Carlos placed in fourth, the Red Bulls had taken the top two steps, with Max landing on the top. As much as you would have loved for Ferrari to join the Red Bulls, you weren’t sure if you could deal with hearing your national anthem yet.
So, you volunteered to be the photographer that followed Charles to the media pen. It gave you plenty of chances to get more content of the driver. Most of the photos were going to turn out the same, just him yapping, but you didn’t care. The images would most likely end up on your photography dedicated Instagram account, and that was fine. You just needed a reason to be busy.
After celebrating the win with his team, Max entered the media pen with his PR manager. One of the Ferrari drivers was in the pen already, though he only realized it was Charles when he spotted a familiar camera lens a few feet away.
He moved through the rituals of answering the media's ridiculous questions, every once in a while looking to his right to catch a glimpse of you. Each time, you could feel his eyes land on you as well as the exact moment they left. You were able to quickly snap a photo of him when his focus was no longer on you. Another group of B roll images that would end up on your photography account.
======
You were fortunate enough to travel back to Monaco immediately after your job was done. As much as you loved traveling and exploring the world, you were always happy to be home.
The same couldn’t be said for Max. His plan was to leave Bahrain as soon as his media duties were done, but due to a failure in the engine, he was forced to stay another day. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if he didn’t have the cats waiting for him.
Usually, the cats would be fine for a race weekend. He would have the guy down the hall check in on them, giving them fresh food, water, and litter. But, the guy down the hall went on vacation the same day Max was going to be back. It left him with no choice but to reach out to someone else.
It was late when you finally got back to your apartment. Very little debate was needed to decide that the unpacking could wait until the morning, opting for a warm shower instead. When you got out, you weren’t expecting your phone to go off.
Max: Can you do me a favor? The plane is broken so I’m stuck in Bahrain for another day
Your eyebrows furrowed as you read the text. As much as you didn’t want to help him, you knew he wouldn’t reach out unless it was absolutely dire. Your fingers danced around before typing up a response.
You: Depends, what do you need?
Max: Can you take care of the cats for me? My usual sitter left for vacation today. It’s just feeding, water, and changing the litter
As his next message came in, you knew you had to say yes. You had fallen in love with Jimmy and Sassy the second you walked into Max’s apartment last season. It would be cruel to say no.
You: Yeah, I can. Lmk where your key/the supplies are and I’ll run over
A sigh of relief left Max’s lips as he received your texts. He quickly sent over instructions on the cats, along with where his spare key was located. You shot back a “thanks” before going on your way.
Even without Max telling you, you easily could’ve guessed where his key was. The only thing outside his door was a dirty mat. Without second thought, you lifted up the corner. Sure enough, a silver key sat under it.
The key slid into the lock and twisted with ease. Twisting the knob, you pushed the door, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, knowing full well you were supposed to push, but again it stayed shutl. On the third attempt, the door finally burst open, and two pairs of cat eyes stared at you from the other side. Meows from the duo ensued as you closed the door behind you.
The apartment looked almost exactly like you remembered it last season. His helmets were hung along the walls while some of his trophies were displayed on shelves. His sim was tucked into the far corner of the living room, flanked by more F1 memorabilia. You couldn’t help but chuckle when one of the newest trophies to his collection, the Driver’s Champion trophy, was carelessly placed on a mini fridge stocked full of Red Bull.
Following the directions Max had sent you, you were quickly able to find the litter as well as the food and water. When you got to changing the food, Jimmy weaved his way in and out of your legs, almost causing you to trip over him. Sassy cautiously watched from a distance as you went about your job, but let you get close enough to her to snap a photo of the two cats. After one last look over the apartment, you made your way back across the hall.
Max received one last text from you letting him know the cats were doing well. Thoughts of you taking care of the felines with him flooded his mind as he received the photo of them.
Baku, Azerbaijan
You propped your phone up on a ledge in a relatively quiet corner of the paddock. At the start of the season, you decided you would vlog every single race weekend, and Baku was no different. It was the first sprint weekend though, giving you plenty more content.
Outside of the motorhome, you filmed the introduction, including explaining the sprint weekend schedule. Because of the additional race, qualifying and practices had been altered, moved, or removed to accommodate.
You’d be lying if you said vlogging felt completely normal. During the first race weekend, you were so in your head and convinced people were making fun of you that you almost completely scrapped the idea for the entire season.
“What are you doing?” you heard a voice ask. Your attention turned from your phone to the stretch of sidewalk you were on. Logan was standing there, confusion plastered on his face.
You smiled, a little embarrassed, “Just vlogging the weekend. Figured I’d share the F1 experience” You gestured to your phone where you quickly stopped the recording.
Logan raised an eyebrow, stepping closer “That’s a bold move in this paddock” He chuckled, but there was a hint of genuine interest in his voice.
“Yeah, I guess it is. At first, I thought people would think it’s silly, but I’m really enjoying it now. It’s a different way to connect with the fans.”
He nodded, leaning casually up against the ledge. “I get that. Everyone loves the behind-the-scenes stuff. It’s fun to see the real side of racing.”
A rush of relief filled you as he showed his support. “Thanks. What about you? How’s everything going at Williams?”
Logan shrugged, indifference shown on his face. “Eh alright. I don’t think the car is where it’s supposed to be, but there’s still plenty of season left.”
“Got to stay optimistic, right?” you replied “You know what would make you feel better?”
“What?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowing
A smirk formed on your lips as you stood up. “A fresh chocolate chip cookie from Williams”
Logan laughed, shaking his head “You’re not wrong, those cookies are to die for. It’s a shame I already had my allotted cookie for the day.”
“Oh come on. I don’t think it’ll kill you to have one extra cookie. It’s a pick me up.” you teased
“Tell that to my trainer.” Logan said “We’d have to sneak in there if we wanted any”
The wheels in your head began to turn, already plotting “Easy. I’ll need your help getting in though. You know I don’t have access”
“Deal” Logan said, a playful spark in his eyes. “Just don’t let the team catch you, otherwise I’ll be in trouble”
“Trust me, I’ll keep it discreet.” You said as you picked up your phone. “Do you mind if I vlog the walk to Williams though?”
He shook his head “Not at all. Honestly the entire thing would make for some good content”
“Perfect” you said as you hit record again. “So change of plans. I ran into Logan, and we are currently on the way to the Williams motorhome to go and grab some cookies. For those of you who don’t know, Williams is known on the grid for having the best and freshest sweet treats.”
As the two of you walked down the paddock, you and Logan talked about how he navigates through a race weekend, and how he’s feeling about his first F1 sprint weekend. You finally got to the Williams hospitality, your stomach hurting from laughing so much with him. You paused your recording to strap your phone to place it in the harness you got specifically to capture behind the scenes footage.
“Wait, how are we even doing this?” you asked, looking at the American
“I’ll distract, you grab the goodies,” he said, you nodded in response.
After pressing record once more, you followed Logan into the Williams building, hoping that your Ferrari red would blend in just enough. The dining area was bustling, a couple of the team members chatting while others worked on prep. In the far corner sat the cookie jar.
Logan walked over to the lady who was overseeing the dessert station, easily striking up a conversation with her. The way she was facing blocked her view of the cookie jar, giving you an easy route to take them.
You walked over, acting like you belonged, and grabbed enough for you, Logan, and the two Ferrari boys, as you were filming with them in a bit. Once you had the cookies, you tapped Logan on the shoulder, letting him know you were good. Both you and Logan disappeared out of the WIlliams hospitality, into the blazing heat of Azerbaijan.
Eventually, you got to the bright red Ferrari motorhome. The blasting A/C was a welcoming relief as you escaped the heat. Both of the drivers were sitting at a table talking, only noticing you when you approached them.
“Well, well, well, look who finally showed up” Carlos spoke as he got up from his chair
“Oh shut up” You said, rolling your eyes “I ran into Logan and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from Williams” Both of the drivers' ears perked up. They knew how good those cookies were.
“Did you bring us any?” Charles asked
You moved your hand from behind your back, showing two cookies wrapped in a napkin “You know I wouldn’t keep these away from you”
“You are amazing” Carlos said as he, along with Charles, took a cookie.
“I know, I know” You smiled before placing your camera bag on the table “It’s going to be a fun session today though” A groan left both of the boys’ mouths, cookie crumbs following suit.
“The last time you said that you made us stick clothespins to our bodies” Carlos reminded you.
“Yeah, and that was fun for me” You smirked, “But I think you guys are actually going to find today enjoyable”
Both of the drivers exchanged glances as the only sound came from you unzipping your camera bag. You took out one of your cameras, offering it to Charles.
“You are becoming tour guides” You said “You can pick who's going to operate the camera and who’s gonna be on camera, but you guys are going to give a tour of the garage, motorhome, and general paddock area”
In addition to the camera you handed Charles, you took out another one for you to use. While you strapped your phone back onto the mount on your chest, the drivers decided that Charles was going to record and Carlos would be in front of the camera.
“So how do I work this thing?” Charles asked, clearly confused by the gadget in his hand
A chuckle left your lips before you walked him through everything he would need. You could see the pure joy in his face when he discovered to zoom and focus by turning the lens. As he hit the red record button, you were ready to roll.
“Hi guys, today I am going to be giving you a tour of the paddock in Baku.” Carlos started as he looked around the motorhome. “Charles is here too, he’s operating the camera today”
“Hello guys” Charles said as he waved his fingers in front of the lens, clearly way too close for comfort.
The tour of the motorhome was nothing short of boring. Carlos danced in someone’s empty office, in addition to almost spilling the entirety of the pot of freshly brewed coffee. As the three of you left the motorhome, Charles offered up the camera to Carlos. The Spaniard happily took it before looking to you like a lost puppy.
“Can you show me how to operate?” He asked
You passed the camera in your hands to Charles before walking over to Carlos. Just like you did with the other driver, you walked Carlos through the buttons and everything he needed to do a good job. Once Carlos got the idea, you took your camera back from Charles.
“Alright guys, we are now in the main walkway area of the paddock. Most of the time spent here is walking to and from the motorhome and the garage, or to our various media commitments” Charles said to the camera
As you turned to follow Charles and Carlos down the pavement, you found Max walking towards the group. The smile on his face quickly dropped when he realized you weren’t the one operating your camera, and that it was Carlos instead. But the smile, along with an increased dose of nerves, returned when he saw you a few feet behind the driver.
“Is he taking your job?” Max asked, motioning to Carlos. Both of the Ferrari drivers were hypnotized by their task that they didn’t notice the Dutchman.
“You could say that” You chuckled “I figured I should stop torturing the guys during my sessions with them and actually give them something fun to do”
“I wish our media team did something like this. It gets boring constantly doing interviews” He admitted
Your eyebrows furrowed “Didn’t you guys go offroading across Austria a few years ago?”
“I mean yeah, but that was years ago” He said “I mean I want more fun things in the paddock. You guys always have the best ideas”
Your cheeks grew warm as you took in Max’s compliment. It was always fun when Ferrari and Red Bull worked together, but you knew where he was coming from with Red Bull’s ideas being boring. As much as you loved their media team, whenever it came to a meeting with them, it always ended with tons of their ideas being scrapped.
“Thank you, Max” You said, a soft smile forming on your lips, “I’ll have to check our calendars and see what we have going on in the next few races. If there’s time, we should definitely do another collab”
In the distance, you could see Carlos and Charles getting further and further away. If you didn’t follow them now, you knew you would never be able to find them again. Turning to Max, your soft smile turned into an apologetic one.
“I’m so sorry but I have to go. I don’t need Tweedledee and Tweedledum breaking my camera” you apologized
“No worries” Max said “I’m surprised you even let them touch it in the first place”
A laugh left your mouth as you said your goodbyes to Max. You quickly turned around and jogged down the paddock to catch up to the two drivers who were still goofing off.
The rest of the filming session went as smoothly as it could. Shenanigans still ensued, but thankfully your camera was still intact, and filled with tons of content for you to use.
======
It was almost ten at night when you entered the hotel lobby. You had just gotten back from the track, and by the looks of Max standing at the elevators, so did he.
“Hey stranger” You called as you approached the driver
Max turned to see you walking towards him. You still had on your work uniform, and exhaustion all over your face. But when he locked eyes with you, a small smile formed, but your eyes screamed you needed to go to bed.
“Hey, how was your day?” He asked
“Long” You replied “And it’s not even close to being over.”
“What? Aren’t you just going up to bed?” Max asked
You chuckled as you shook your head “I wish. I still have to eat dinner and edit some of the content from today. I’ll probably get to sleep in a few hours.”
Max winced as he heard your plans for the night. While he knew there was more to a media job than snapping photos and recording videos, he didn’t think the responsibilities would spill so late into the night.
“Do you want a friend? Just so you’re not alone?” Max suggested
“Oh, you really don’t have to” You said as the elevator doors opened. Max followed you into the lift. “You have to drive tomorrow”
“So?” He asked “I usually stay up late looking at data anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem”
“Alright, if it isn’t an inconvenience, you can join me.” You gave in “But I can’t have any distractions, I need to get this stuff done tonight. It’s all going out tomorrow”
A ding filled the elevator signaling that you had reached the correct floor. The doors opened and you followed Max out into the hall.
“Deal. I’ll go change and then I’ll be over” He said as he made a left down the hall, while you made a right.
“Oh, and y/n?” He called
“Yes?”
“Room service is on me tonight” Max told you. As much as you wanted to object and say you could take care of yourself, Max had disappeared down the hall.
You quickly made your way into your hotel room, showering and trading your work polo and jeans for a black Ferrari hoodie and matching sweatpants. As you set up your laptop and the SD cards of your two cameras, a soft knock landed on your door. Opening it, you found Max on the other side. He was dressed in a similar sweatsuit to yours, only being navy blue instead. His hands filled with his laptop and a pair of headphones.
“Come on in, make yourself comfortable” You said as you moved to the side.
Max made his way into the small hotel room. The queen bed was the centerpiece, but two desks lined up against the far window, giving a gorgeous view of the city lights of Baku. He saw your stuff on the desk to the right, so he opted to place his stuff to the left.
“So, what’re you thinking for dinner?” He asked as he took out the pamphlet that had the room service menu on it.
“Depends, what are you getting?” You replied as you walked up to him, barely being able to comfortably look over his shoulder at the menu.
Max could feel your presence behind him. Every breath, every movement was taken note of. A jolt ran through his body when he felt your chin land on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at the paper he was holding. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of the menu, desperately trying to think of an answer to your question.
“I-uh um, probably the kebabs” He stuttered out, before handing you the menu over his shoulder
Your eyes glanced over the menu, eventually choosing one of the chicken dishes. Max watched as you picked up the phone and placed the order, his mind still spinning from how close the two of you were moments earlier.
“Alright, it should be here soon” You said once you hung up the phone. “Thank you for paying for it, you really didn’t have to.”
Max shrugged “It’s no problem, really. It’s the least I could do to make your day a bit better”
As the two of you waited for your food, you got to work. The main goal was to edit the tour that Charles and Carlos had given earlier in the day. Easy, right?
Wrong.
It started with the fact that Max was simply in the room. There was nothing he did or said that forced you to take your eyes off of your screen to look at him, but you did. In fact, he was quite respectful. He didn’t say a word to you as you attempted to work.
But you couldn’t help but catch yourself staring at him. You didn’t know why, it was just Max afterall. Just Max who continuously made fun of you in grade school. Just Max who almost got you arrested years ago. Just Max who welcomed you to Formula One with open arms. Just Max who you cried to in the hotel in Miami last season. Just Max, who you developed a crush on last year that you swore you bottled up and put on the shelf.
At least, you thought you did.
It only got worse when Max realized that you were staring. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, only doing a double take when he saw your attention was on him already. He removed the headset and paused the video he was watching to turn to you.
“Are you okay?” He asked
“What?” You questioned snapping out of your daze. “Um yeah, I’m good”
Max’s eyes narrowed, not believing you for a second. “Are you sure? You were looking at me weirdly”
“Yeah, no, yeah I’m fine. Just lost in thought. Editing decisions, that’s all” You explained
He nodded, still unsure whether or not to be convinced. Before he could question your reasons, a knock on the door caused him to break eye contact.
“I’ll get it” He insisted
You watched as Max got up from his seat to your door. After a brief exchange between the driver and the hotel worker, Max came back with two trays in his hands. You rushed over, taking the second tray from him so he wouldn’t spill. As your fingers brushed his, you fought to capture the butterflies that were taking over your stomach.
“Thank you again, Max” You said, placing your tray down at your station.
“Of course, y/n” He replied as he followed suit by placing his tray at his desk. “How’s the video editing going along?”
“You wanna see it?” you asked, a smirk dancing on your lips
“Of course”
You scooted your chair closer to him, dragging your laptop and your food along with it. As you rewound the video to the start, you could feel Max rest his arm on the back of your chair.
Laughter immediately ensued as you pressed play. The camera was slightly shaky as Charles’ voice asked for help on how to use it. Your voice was faintly heard as you explained, before cutting to Carlos introducing himself and explaining the reason for the video.
The footage continued, showcasing the areas around the paddock, garage, and motorhome. Every so often, you would chime in, giving Max little behind-the-scenes tidbits. Suddenly, the film changed to a part of the paddock you don’t remember being at.
“This must have been when we were busy yapping” you said as you squinted at the screen
“Yeah, glad nothing happened to the camera while you were gone.” Max said “You can never trust the two of them” As if on cue, the screen jostled and a view of the grass was shown.
“He dropped my camera?!” You exclaimed, your eyes widened at the sight “I’m going to kill him”
Max burst into laughter, clearly entertained by your reaction. “At least it still works”
You shook your head in disbelief, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling in you “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the idiots.”
Max leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, instead of a tour, you could title the video: ‘How not to handle a camera, featuring C squared”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle. As you resumed the video, you watched Charles pick up the camera, his sheepish grin evident even through the shaky footage. “Oh he knows he messed up” you muttered, watching as he tried to make light of the situation, joking with Carlos in the background.
Monte Carlo, Monaco
As much as you loved traveling, you were thankful for Formula One to return to Monaco. Living out of a suitcase was tough, but the experiences you got made it all worth it.
With you having a place in Monaco, you offered Logan and Oscar your place for the weekend. The three of you had slowly grown closer as the season progressed, bonding over running late to whatever track you were at, watching random sporting events, and a lot of FaceTime calls.
“Holy shit!” Logan exclaimed as he walked out to your balcony, his eyes wide with disbelief. “This is your view?”
You chuckled, leaving against the railing beside him. “Pretty incredible, right? It never gets old.”
He gazed out at the breathtaking scene - the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean stretching out beneath the blazing sun, the picturesque harbor filled with yachts, and the iconic winding streets of Monte Carlo. The only change to your regular view was the presence of the grandstands placed around the streets.
“This is unreal,” he said, shaking his head in amazement, “I cannot believe we get to spend the weekend here.”
Oscar joined the two of you out on the balcony, a grin on his face as he took in the view for his first time. “It’s definitely a step up from the hotel rooms we usually get” he joked
You laughed, appreciating the camaraderie that had developed among the three of you. You knew Logan and Oscar had been friends, and former teammates in karting, so you were grateful the duo welcomed you to the friend group.
“I figured it’d be nice to have a home base instead of just dealing with a cramped hotel room” You shrugged
Logan turned to you, sincerity in his eyes “Thanks for offering this. It makes a huge difference. I feel like I can actually relax before the race.”
“It’s no problem at all” you replied “It’s fun having friends around”
“You already have a certain someone around though” Oscar chimed in a teasing tone in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows, intrigued. “Max is across the hall, isn’t he?”
The boys both knew about your situation with Max - the reigning world champion often being a topic of conversation on those late night calls, mixed with playful teasing and curious speculation. You felt your cheeks warm at the mention of his name.
“Yeah, he is,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone casual, but the slight flutter in your stomach gave you away. “But it’s not what you think”
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “What do you mean? Just friends sharing a building?”
You nodded, though the teasing glances exchanged between the two of them made you a little self conscious. “Exactly. We’re just neighbors. We don’t even hang out when we’re both home.”
Oscar leaned in, clearly enjoying the moment. “Right, but you two hang out in other places around the world, sharing room service and media content.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing but feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Okay, yes. We’ve had some fun moments together. But it’s all professional.”
Logan chuckled “Sure, professional. Until you end up showing him more than just your photos”
You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile “You guys are ridiculous. Max is great, but I’m focused on my work.”
“Just admit it,” Oscar said, still grinning “You wouldn’t mind having him around more often.”
You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t mind it” you admitted, finally coming to terms with the resurfacing feelings you had for the Dutchman. “But let’s be real. I have a job to do.”
Logan nudged you playfully “Exactly, you can’t let a guy distract you. We need those epic shots of us on the track.”
You rolled your eyes “I don’t even take photos of you guys.” you shot back, playfully dismissing him before disappearing back into your apartment.
======
The Grand Prix being in Monaco though, only meant plenty of running around with the hometown boy and late nights editing content. Qualifying had ended hours earlier, but you and Charles were still stuck in the paddock, filming videos for all of the Ferrari social media pages.
“I think we have one more to do, then we should be good” you said, your voice full of remorse “I don’t know why they chose to throw all of this on us with the race being tomorrow”
Charles chuckled, running a hand through his hair, clearly tired, but still in good spirits. “It’s part of the stress of a home race. Everyone wants a bit of you.”
“Tell me about it” you agreed as you set up the last shot. Thankfully the last thing on the to do list was a simple thank you video to the fans. Once the camera was set up, you moved the driver into frame, and pressed record.
Even through the visible exhaustion on his face, Charles executed his words perfectly. Times like this made you grateful to work with a driver who was able to crank out the grueling work quickly, so both of you could get out of there.
“Perfect” you said after stopping the recording. “Thank you again for doing all of this, it wasn’t fair to you”
Charles shrugged “It’s like this, can’t change any of it now.” he said. You couldn’t help but smile at him messing up the saying ‘it is what it is’.
“True. But you’re free to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” you said as you packed up your camera, tripod, and phone that was recording the behind the scenes
His eyebrows furrowed as his head tilted “Are you not leaving too?”
You shook your head. “Not yet. If I go home, I’m going to crash, and I need to get everything we just did edited for tomorrow.” you answered
“You better not stay up too late though” Charles warned “We need you ready to go for tomorrow”
You couldn’t help but chuckle “I’ll try, but you know how it is - there’s always one more thing to tweak. Regardless, there’s nothing a can of Red Bull won’t fix.”
A smirk formed on Charles’ lips, his eyebrows both raised. It took you a second to process what you had said.
“I meant it as a general term for an energy drink” you explained yourself, thankful that the paddock wasn’t super bright so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks
“Yeah, sure you did” he rolled his eyes, the smirk still plastered on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.” He said before turning to head to the exit
“See you tomorrow, Charles” you echoed before turning and entering the Ferrari motorhome
As you worked hastily in the paddock, trying to get everything done for the night, Max had entered your shared apartment building, ready to rest before the race the next day. What he didn’t expect to see was a certain American driver already standing at the elevator doors.
“Logan?” Max questioned. Sure enough, the blonde turned around, his face filled with just as much confusion as Max’s. “What are you doing here?”
“Just trying to get some rest before the race tomorrow.” He answered “I’m staying with y/n for the weekend. She offered her place.”
Max’s eyebrows raised as Logan’s words hit his ears. She offered her place. They repeated in his mind. “Oh, did she?”
Logan nodded, a friendly grin on his face. “Yeah, she’s been super accommodating. Figured it would be easier and cheaper than trying to find a hotel.”
The elevator echoed a ding through the lobby. Once the doors opened, the drivers walked in, Max opting to lean up against the wall.
“So you’re just crashing with her, huh? How convenient.” he said, crossing his arms. Indifference feigned from his mouth, but curiosity, mixed with a tinge of jealousy bubbled underneath the surface.
“Yeah, it’s quite nice being literally walking distance to the track. I’ve never had anything like this before” The American said, pressing the button for the floor Max shared with you.
Max couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to mask his intrigue. “I’ll have to admit, she picked a great building to move into. But you didn’t just come for the accommodations, did you?”
Logan shot back a look. He knew Max was trying to bait him, get him to slip up and admit something he didn’t actually mean. “Y/n’s a great friend, always fun to hang out with. She’s been showing me her photos and paintings. They cover her walls.”
Again, Logan’s words struck Max like a bullet, just as another realization hit. Logan had seen your apartment before Max had. He had seen your hotel rooms and childhood bedroom, but never your current residence.
Max’s expression shifted slightly, a mix of amusement and annoyance. “Oh really? She’s shown you her art? That’s…nice.” The words felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to keep his tone light.
“It’s impressive. You should ask her to show you sometime” Logan replied, only slightly aware of the undertones of the conversation “She has a real talent for capturing the energy of the races.”
The younger image of himself blazed in Max’s mind. He knew all too well how good you were at capturing the energy of a win.
“Sure,” Max replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. “I’ll add it to my list of things to do.”
As they stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway, Logan continued to praise your work. “Yeah, it’s honestly great to see someone so passionate about what they do. It makes you appreciate the whole atmosphere in the paddock more.”
Max nodded, his mind racing far away from the conversation in front of him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of you and Logan spending time together stirred something within him. “Yeah, she’s definitely talented.”
The rest of the walk down the hall was silent, neither driver really knowing what to say. When they got to their respective doors, they exchanged nods, bidding the other goodbye. Logan turned first, Max expecting him to knock on your door, but was quickly caught off guard when he inserted a key into the slot.
His heart sank as he watched the knob turn, the door creaking open quickly after. Logan walked in, giving no glance back to his gridmate before the door closed again.
Max stood there for a moment, staring at the door. The reality of Logan being in your apartment felt like a punch to the gut. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the already built irritation.
“Get it together, Max,” he muttered to himself. He had no right to feel possessive, and had much bigger things on his plate in the next twenty four hours.
======
The Grand Prix was relatively forgettable. While Charles’ strategy was pretty standard, Carlos’ had to be one of the worst you’ve ever seen.
“What the hell are they doing with his race?” you asked Annalese, running into her along the pit.
She glanced at the engineers and strategiests sitting on the wall, each of them with their eyes glued on data filled screens. “No clue. Honestly we could call a better strategy than them”
“Exactly” you agreed “Every time I’ve heard his radio, it’s just been him complaining”
“To be fair, he does complain a lot,” Annalese laughed before bidding you goodbye to get back to work.
Towards the later half of the race, you found yourself at the final corners. A few other photographers were there, all of you aiming to capture the final laps of the Grand Prix.
As the cars roared past, you focused intently on capturing the action, your camera clicking in quick succession. While your focus was on the two cars in red, you could help but to capture a few photos of your roommates for the weekend as they drove past.
To no surprise, Max had crossed the finish line first. You were able to get a few shots of him from a distance, as there were literally no other cars remotely close to him. As neither of the Ferrari boys finished on the podium, you made your way back to the garage, where you found Isabella looking at her camera.
She looked up as you approached, as if she felt your presence. “Was your race as boring as mine?” she asked
You nodded, “Yeah, the best shot I got was of this cool looking bird that landed on the railing during lap 65”
Isabella laughed, shaking her head “At least you got something. All I got was the pit wall’s collective frustration”
“Well that’s their own doing” you chuckled. “I did manage to get a shot or two of Max weaving around the Anthony Nodges curve. The team is gonna have to pay big bucks for them though”
“Oh yeah, they’d totally do that” Isabella said, sarcasm dripping from her words.
You glanced down pit lane at the celebration of Max and his team. Laughter and cheers echoed all the way down the straight, with the Dutch Anthem soon to follow.
“Are you going to the after party?” Isabella asked, forcing you to tear your gaze away from the commotion.
You shook your head, “Nah, it’s gonna be total chaos out there. I have a bottle of wine and photo editing calling my name”
“I get it. I guess you can kinda go out whenever ‘cause you live here” she said “I’m excited to see what the nightlife is finally like.”
“Oh it’s fun.” you emphasized “Knowing Max, you guys will probably end up at either Jimmy’z or Sass Cafe. Just be careful. You never know what the guys are gonna get into”
With one last glance at the festivities down the pit, you said goodbye to your coworker and headed out.
======
Max needed that win badly. He needed the win to prove he was the best. He needed the win to prove to himself he was better than some American on the grid.
But more importantly, Max craved the after party. The wild celebrations, the loud music, the flashing lights - anything and everything to help him escape the pressure. He needed to forget the win, forget the American, and especially forget you.
Just like you predicted, Max found himself and the rest of the party at Jimmy’z. The club was alive, a whirlwind of energy and sound that enveloped him the second he stepped inside. The bass pulsed through his body, drowning out most of the doubts and expectations of the weekend.
Except no matter how many drinks he had, the thoughts of Logan in your apartment still lingered. The image of both of you together, the laughter, the easy intimacy - it was a ghost that haunted him. Every beat of the music seemed to echo the sound of your door closing, with Logan inside.
What made it worse was that neither of you were at the party. Every time he glanced around, he hoped to find you in the crowd, only to be met with a sea of unfamiliar faces. Max knew you were always hit or miss when going out, but he assumed since it was in a place you were familiar with, you’d be joining.
As the night wore on, he pushed through the crowd, seeking distractions in drunken laughter and loud cheers, but the absence of you and Logan loomed larger. Each moment of joy was tainted by the feeling of something missing, a void he couldn’t ignore. A hole that needed to be filled.
He started by surrounding himself with his friends. Lando had just gotten done mixing a set and was leaving the dj booth when Max found him.
“There you are, mate!” Lando said over the booming music, his face lit up with excitement. “You like the mix?”
“Yeah, it was great,” Max said, nodding slightly. The music had been the last thing on his mind.
“Thanks, it’s brand new” Lando continued, completely oblivious to the fact Max wasn’t listening. The Brit spotted the empty glass in Max’s hands prompting his face to light up again. “Next round is on me”
Max didn’t have the time to argue as Lando made his way to the bar. Max followed, weaving in and out of the crowd, only to be handed a shot by his friend.
The two men clinked the glasses before tapping them on the table and putting them to their mouths. Max downed the shot quickly, the burn a welcome distraction.
“Congrats on the win again,” Lando said. Max barely muttered out a “thanks”, and for the first time that night, Lando’s happy-go-lucky disposition changed. “You doing alright, mate?”
“Yeah, just tired” he replied, hoping Lando would drop the topic and move on
Lando studied him for a moment, concern creeping into his expression. “No you’re not.” his eyes narrowed, as if he was zeroing in on the problem. “You’re still mad about y/n and Logan, aren’t you?”
“What? No.” He scoffed. Lando gave him a knowing look. Max’s shoulders slumped in defeat “Yeah”
Lando’s expression softened. “You’ve got to let it go, Max. You can’t let this ruin your night. Celebrate your win!”
Max ran a hand through his hair, frustration slowly bubbling up to the surface. “It’s not that easy, mate. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it.”
“Look,” Lando said, leaning in closer, his voice serious. “You’re going to have a million nights sulking. You can’t keep carrying this around with you. Enjoy the moment. Let loose. Go find some girl to entertain you for the night.”
Max let out a sharp laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “You think some random girl is gonna fix this?”
“Maybe not fix, but it could help take your mind off things for the night.” Lando shrugged, handing him a glass filled with god knows what
Max stared at the drink in his hands, the ice clinking against the glass as if mocking him. Lando’s words hung in the air, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him. It was true - he needed a distraction, something to pull him out of the spiral of thoughts that had haunted him since he saw Logan enter your apartment.
His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a girl who could fill the void that you unknowingly left. At the edge of the dance floor, Max caught the gaze of a small brunette. He quickly chugged his drink, placing the empty glass on the bar.
“I’ll see you around” Max said to Lando before making his way back through the crowd
Max pushed through the mass of bodies, the bass pulsing with each step he took. As he approached the brunette, he felt a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. She was laughing with her friends, her smile bright and infectious, but he couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut.
“Hey” he said, leaning in slightly so he could be heard over the music. She turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.
“Hey! You’re Max right?” She asked, the driver nodding in response “Congrats on the win today”
“Thanks, I appreciate it” He said, a genuine smile creeping on his face for the first time tonight. He couldn’t lie, the girl’s energy was infectious.
The two of them quickly found themselves intertwined with each other, the beat of the music driving every movement. Max felt the tension in his chest ease as they danced, the thoughts of you slowly fading away.
Meanwhile, you, Logan and Oscar had made yourselves comfortable in your living room. The sound of the Cars movie filled the background as the three of you split a bottle of red wine. Your laptop sat on the coffee table as you edited the photos from the day, constantly being interrupted by one of the guys.
You adjusted your position on the couch, leaning back into the cushions as you sipped your wine. The warmth of the red liquid relaxed you, contrasting with the lively banter between Logan and Oscar. The American was to your right on the couch, his arm resting behind you, just close enough for you to bump into it whenever you moved. Oscar on the other hand was sprawled on the floor, claiming he needed to stretch.
“Hey, can you pause that for a second?” Logan asked, looking over your shoulder. “I wanna see those pics from earlier.”
You looked at the laptop, filled with candid shots from today’s adventures at the track. “Sure.” you said, hitting pause and turning the screen to face him.
Logan leaned in, close enough for you to get a wave of his cologne. “These are sick. We need to get you over to Williams next season”
“Yeah, good luck trying to get Annalese to agree to that” you chuckled
Oscar made his way off of the floor over to the other side of the couch. “You should post that photo of Max going around turn 19. It’s really good”
You smiled at the thought, but still your stomach twisted. It wouldn’t be the first time you posted Max, but you didn’t want the fans to get the wrong idea.
“Yeah, I might” you replied, forcing your focus back to the photos. “I just want to make sure I have the right ones picked out.”
The three of you set back into a comfortable rhythm, sipping wine and tossing comments about the movie. But every time you caught a glimpse of the photos of Max, your mind wandered back to him, and the party you were missing out on.
“Are you alright?” Oscar asked suddenly, catching the shift in your demeanor
You forced a smile, maybe a bit too big to be genuine “Yeah, just thinking about the shots”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, not convinced with your answer “Thinking about Max?”
You sighed, looking down at the photo of the navy blue car, the cursor hovering directly over the cockpit. “Yeah” you sighed “Kind of wishing I went out with them”
“Are we that boring?” Logan asked, his voice dripping in pretend hurt
“Of course not” you said, “Just not everyday you get to celebrate a Grand Prix”
“You’re right, it’s only almost every weekend” Oscar said, your eyes rolling in response
As the movie continued, you tried pushing the thoughts aside and immersing yourself in the present. For now, you could enjoy this night, even if part of your mind was still on Max, hoping he was finding his own way to celebrate.
Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of your apartment door jolting. The sound was far from a knock. It was much more demanding, as if the cause was trying to force itself into your place. You exchanged glances with the two boys on your couch before you got up to investigate.
As you approached the door, your heart raced with curiosity. You glanced back at Logan and Oscar, who looked equally as intrigued, their laughter from the movie fading into silence.
You opened the door, just enough to get a peak who was behind it. On the other side stood a disheveled Max. He was slightly out of breath, the unmistakable scent of a party lingered on his lips. His apartment key was in his hand, and his focus on the lock on your door.
“Max,” you spoke, causing the Dutchman to look up, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition. “What are you-”
Before you could finish your sentence, an unmistakable voice filled the hall “Y/n!”
Your head snapped to the source of the voice, your eyes widening as you made eye contact with a certain brunette. The reality of the moment crashed over you as you glanced back at Max, whose focus was now fully on you. The tension in the air was palatable.
“Isabella” you whispered, choosing your next words carefully, a knot forming in your stomach. “What are you doing here?”
“Max invited me over!” she exclaimed, the same intoxicating scent wafting off her tongue. “I didn’t realize you two live together.”
“We don’t” you clarified, trying to keep your voice steady. “I live here. Max lives across the hall. Isn’t that right, Max?”
The tension thickened, his cheeks pink with embarrassment as he slowly processed the mistake, “Right” he agreed, turning to your coworker. “I live right there,” he said, pointing to his own door across the hall.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind you, halting the uncomfortable situation. Max’s eyes widened, taking in the presence behind you as the warmth of a hand rested on your waist.
“Is everything alright?” Logan spoke from behind you, his voice cutting through the tension.
“Yeah” you replied as your tone grew harsher. Your focus was still locked on Max. “Max here just happened to forget which apartment is his. I was just helping him get the correct one. Right Max?”
Max swallowed hard, his gaze moving to the hand resting on your body. “Right” he repeated, turning to Isabella and taking her hand as he stepped back.
As you closed the door, a groan escaped your lips, the frustration finally bubbling to the surface. Logan and Oscar exchanged glances, curious about what just transpired.
“What was that all about?” Oscar asked, now sprawled out on the couch
“Honestly, I have no idea” You sighed, running your hands through your hair in exasperation “It’s like he completely lost his mind”
“Max took home Isabella and thought y/n’s apartment was his” Logan clarified, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
“Oh” the Aussie said, finally sitting up, a look of realization crossing his face “I guess the good thing about this is that you finally know how he feels?” he suggested, an awkward smile on his face.
Both you and Logan gave Oscar a glare that would wipe out an entire country.
Oscar raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously “Alright, alright. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
======
Sunlight streamed through Max’s curtains signaling that the day was beginning. The night before felt like a distant memory, a surreal blend of laughter and reckless abandon that danced just beyond his grasp. He squinted against the bright light, wincing at the pounding in his head confirmed the reality of it all.
Shifting slightly, Max felt the weight of his body pressing into the sheets, sticky and tangled from the heat of the night. The remnants of conversations echoed in his mind - the mix of playful banter and hints of something deeper. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the night had changed something, but he wasn’t quite ready to piece it together.
With a groan, he pushed himself up, the world spinning slightly as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. He glanced around the room, still a bit disoriented. Photos of races and trophies adorned the walls, reminders of his life as a driver, but it was the incessant buzzing of his phone that caught his attention.
Reaching for it, he noticed the screen lit up with a message. As he unlocked it, confusion flooded his head when he saw Isabella’s name flash across the screen. He had no recollection of her evening giving him her number.
Isabella: Had a great time last night! See you in Spain ;)
Max’s eyes snapped wide as the reality of the night before settled in. The conversation with Lando, the way Isabella had danced, and then the moment he’d invited her back to his place. But more vividly, he recalled you opening the door, the surprise on your face, and Logan’s hand on your waist, pulling you closer.
His heart raced as he pieced together the details. Had he really invited Isabella back to his place after everything that had unfolded? How did the night spiral in ways he never anticipated? What had felt so carefree now felt tangled and complicated.
He shot Isabella a half hearted text saying that he enjoyed the evening too, before setting his phone down, anxiety gnawing at him. Max knew he messed up. Big time. He hadn’t just blurred the lines with Isabella; he’d torched any chance of something real with you
Taking a deep breath, he raked a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the fog. He needed to talk to you, to set everything straight. But how could he explain everything without sounding completely insane? “Hey! I slept with your coworker trying to get over the massive crush I have on you because I think you’re sleeping with Logan.” wouldn’t sit well with you at all.
He thought about going over and knocking on your door to apologize for his actions, but didn’t want to risk running into Logan again. Sending a text seemed too casual for the weight of what he wanted to say.
But then the debate of whether or not he even should say anything crossed his mind. What if you didn’t care? What if you were happily enjoying your relationship? The thought made his stomach churn, the fear of rejection eventually winning him over.
Spielberg, Austria
You had avoided Max in Spain and Canada, dodging him at every turn. Whether it was ducking behind a stack of tires again, or taking the long way around the paddock to avoid walking past the Energy Station, you hadn’t seen Max, and Max hadn’t seen you.
Isabella was harder to avoid, being coworkers after all. Thankfully, she seemed to get the hint that you didn’t want to interact, minding her business and spending most of her time in Carlos’ garage.
It was media day in Austria, and while the drivers were in their briefings and press conferences, you had made yourself comfortable in the Ferrari pit. The buzz of the paddock felt familiar and comforting, a stark contrast to the tangled emotions you had been wrestling with.
The mechanics and engineers moved around you as you sat on your skateboard, using it to glide down the concrete to capture pit stop practice. The sounds of chatter and clanking filled the air, creating a symphony of activity that kept your mind occupied. You snapped photos of the team, capturing the precision and teamwork that made their pitstops efficient.
As you worked, the sound of laughter caught your attention. You looked around, trying to find the culprit, but you wished you hadn’t. Max was in the Red Bull pit, surrounded by a few team members. He looked relaxed, a stark contrast to how you felt.
Your heart raced at the sight of him, and instinct kicked in. You shifted your focus back to your camera, trying to suppress the mixed feelings inside.
“Are you alright, tesoro?” One of the mechanics asked, causing you to jump
You looked up, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a little distracted.”
“Is Max causing you trouble?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye
You laughed softly, trying to downplay it “You could call it that. Just stupid paddock drama”
The mechanic nodded knowingly, a sympathetic expression on his face. “I know how it is. May I ask what happened?”
You hesitated, weighing your options. What is spoken about in Ferrari usually stays in Ferrari. But it doesn’t help when part of the problem is also in Ferrari.
“It’s complicated” you finally said, glancing back at Max who was too busy yapping to one of his team members to notice you staring. “We were… close, but he took someone home after Monaco that I wasn’t expecting.”
As if on cue, Max bid goodbye to his mechanics, turning towards the Ferrari garages. Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away, focusing back on your camera. You felt a rush of anxiety wash over you.
“He’s coming this way” the mechanic observed “Maybe he’ll come and say hi”
“Doubt it” you mumbled
Sure enough, the driver walked straight past you and the mechanic, his pace not faltering in the slightest. He stopped in front of Carlos’ garage, a smile grew on his face as he spotted someone inside. Moments later, Isabella emerged from the garage, embracing Max in a hug.
Your stomach twisted as you watched the scene unfold. The warmth of their interaction felt like a punch to the gut, but you couldn’t get yourself to turn away. You could feel the mechanic’s gaze shift between you and the unfolding moment, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
“Looks like they’re close” he said quietly, trying to gauge your reaction
You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow “Yeah, you can say that”
Isabella leaned in to say something to Max, his laugh rang out, carefree and easy. Jealousy couldn’t help but bubble up as you recalled his visits to your side of the garage only a season prior. The way he joked with you, the late-night run-ins in the paddock that felt so special. Now it all felt so distant, a ghost of what had been.
“Come on, let’s get you in the car to get some different angles” the mechanic offered, noticing your shift in demeanor “I think there’s a wrench somewhere around here you can throw at him”
Your laugh was genuine for the first time at the thought of knocking out the driver with the metal tool. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.” You said as you stood up from your skateboard.
On the other side of the Ferrari pit, Max opted to give Isabella a chance. He told himself he couldn’t spend the rest of his life waiting around for you, the uncertainty of your feelings pushed him more towards her. Late nights and quick favors between the two of you were just signs of friendship, he reasoned.
Still, he could feel your eyes on him as he talked with Isabella, and it took everything in him not to look over. However, conversation with her felt natural, laughter coming out easily, just as it did with you. Maybe, just maybe, the void you left could be filled.
======
The weekend continued with Max popping up randomly in Carlos’ garage. It irritated you to no extent that you couldn’t predict when he’d appear, giving yourself a taste of what everyone else felt last season. He seemed to have a knack for showing up right when you got into a groove, your focus sharp and your shots framed perfectly.
On Saturday afternoon, you were deep in concentration, capturing the mechanics as they fine-tuned Carlos’ car, when you caught a glimpse of Max out of the corner of your eye. He leaned casually against the wall, chatting with a few of Carlos’ crew members, laughter spilling from his lips. It felt like a dagger to your gut - so effortless, so carefree.
You clenched your jaw, trying to focus on your work. The work you shouldn’t even be doing, but Isabella was MIA. Knowing the content needed to be out sooner rather than later, you stepped in. But now, you were regretting your choices.
With every burst of laughter from Max, your heart sank deeper. You shifted your position, framing a shot of Carlos as he animatedly discussed tire strategy, but your mind kept shifting back to Max. Why did he have to be here, looking so at ease, while you felt like you were drowning in confusion?
“Hey, are you alright?” Annalese appeared beside you, her voice cutting through your spiral of thoughts
You forced a nod, your gaze still locked on Max “Yeah, just doing a little extra work”
At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turned. His eyes met yours, and suddenly you felt like you were going to puke. As quick as he made eye contact, you broke it, turning back to the car in front of you.
“Right. Just work.” Annalease said, raising an eyebrow
You sighed, your next words quieter than before “I just don’t get why he’s here”
Confusion crossed on your boss’s face, “Who? Max?”
“Yeah, I mean Isabella isn’t even here” you added
“What does that have to do with anything?” She asked, genuinely puzzled
You turned your head to look at Annalese, genuine surprise on your face. “No one told you? I thought once it hit the mechanics, they’d be telling everyone”
You recounted the night in Monaco, just quiet enough so the Dutchman wouldn’t hear from the garage entrance. With every added detail, Annalese’s emotions switched from confusion, to anger, then finally settled on pure pity.
“I can’t believe he just waltzed in here after that” Annalese said, her voice low, eyes narrowed at Max as he laughed again with the crew. “That’s… seriously messed up”
You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. “Right? It’s like he thinks he can just pretend everything is fine, that nothing happened.”
“People are complicated” she reminded “But that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass to show up here, especially with Isabella missing. It’s just inconsiderate”
“I’m just trying to get this content done, then going back over to Charles’ side of the garage” you said, frustration peeking through your words “But every time I see him, I lose my focus. It’s like he’s some kind of distraction.”
“Maybe he is” Annalese muttered “But you need to take care of yourself first”
You watched as Max leaned in closer to one of the mechanics, his smile wide and disarming. “Easier said than done,” you muttered. “Every time I look at him, I remember that night. I can’t just turn that off.”
“Then don’t” Annalese’s tone shifted, more supportive now. “Use it. Capture what you’re feeling. It could make for some powerful content.”
“Powerful?” you asked, skepticism creeping in.
“Raw. Real. People want to see the truth behind the glitz and glam of racing. If you’re feeling something, channel that into your work.”
Taking a deep breath, you focused on Carlos again, his passion lighting up the garage. You adjusted your lens, trying to frame the chaos, the energy, the underlying tension. Maybe if you captured that, it would help clear the fog.
But just as you were starting to find your rhythm again, you heard Max’s voice cut through the air, directing some joke at you. His words were quickly replaced by the sound of your camera shutter, capturing the moment between the Dutchman and the Spaniard.
You pressed the playback button, getting a look at what you just shot. The mechanics moving around the garage framed the two drivers in the photo, but what truly caught your eye was the growing tension on Max’s face with each camera click. Looking up from your camera, you could see why.
Logan had joined Max and Carlos, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. Logan was usually easy going, getting along with the rest of the grid, but as he talked, you could see Max’s confident demeanor crack just a bit. It was refreshing to see the two time world champion falter, but you couldn’t understand how a rookie was the reason.
======
To the surprise of absolutely no one, Max crossed the finish line far before anyone else. Charles and Logan followed behind, completing the podium. While you were thankful that Charles did well, you weren’t looking forward to seeing Max on the top step for the fifth race in a row.
You trudged over to parc ferme, just as Max was pulling up the car. Thankfully, he was too busy getting out of the car and celebrating with his team to see you with Charles. Clicks of the camera filled the air as Charles got out of the car, throwing up two fingers as he walked over to you, his eyes crinkling through his helmet.
“Congrats!” You said, moving the camera from your face, revealing a grin
“Thank you, thank you.” He replied, embracing you in a quick hug before going to congratulate the other drivers on their finishes.
You snapped a few photos of Charles talking with Logan, both guys animatedly gesturing their experiences on the track. As Charles moved to Max, Logan turned his attention to you, his smile beaming brighter than before.
“Congrats Logan!” you practically yelled as you ran over to your friend
He engulfed you in a bear hug, squeezing you slightly. “Thank you, y/n. I can’t believe it’s the first one”
“First of hopefully many to come” you replied as you separated from him. “You deserve it Logan, you’ve earned it”
You didn’t know Max was watching you as you continued your conversation with Logan. He didn’t want you to know he analyzed every inch of your face as your emotions changed. He didn’t want you to know that you had the same look on your face that you did in the hotel in Baku. He didn’t want you to know that he knew that you were in love with Logan.
You glanced over your shoulder, checking to see if Charles was doing anything photo worthy, only to get a glimpse of Max with his team. He had his eyes on you already, the look in his eye sent a mix of confusion and annoyance through you. He shouldn’t be looking. His fling was twenty feet away in the other direction, also donning Ferrari red.
Thankfully, the three drivers were forced through the post race interviews and to the cooldown room before you snapped on Max for staring. You found yourself a spot under the podium, perfect for capturing photos of your two friends as they celebrated. Isabella squeezed in to your left, a lovestruck smile on her face.
“Good race, wasn’t it?” you spoke, trying to be as friendly as you could
She nodded enthusiastically, impatiently waiting for the Dutchman to come out. “Absolutely! I mean he just dominated out there!”
You nodded, unsure of what to say in response. Annalese was to your right, giving you someone else to talk to as you waited. The two of you chatted for a bit until you lifted your camera again, getting shots of Logan and Charles as they walked out.
Letting Isabella stand next to you was a bad idea. The second Max walked out, his eyes were glued in your direction. You knew he was looking at her. There was no doubt about that. But for him to get all smiley and crinkly eyed while looking near you? It made you sick.
“Can they just play the damn song and move on?” You muttered to Annalese, causing her to burst out in laughter during the trophy presentation.
“You’ll be back in your hotel soon, don’t worry” Annalese reassured
Marina Bay, Singapore
It was no secret that Carlos was having a hell of a weekend. He already topped the free practice sessions, and took pole position, which sent excitement rippling through the Ferrari garage. The energy in the air was palpable with hope and anticipation as the team prepared for the race.
So far, most of your weekend was spent running back and forth between the two red terminals, much to your dismay. Coming into the weekend, you were under the impression you would only be with Charles, but a certain brunette went missing for randomly long periods of time yet again.
“Have you seen Isabella?” Annalese asked as she walked into Carlos’ garage
“If I did, do you think I’d be here?” You retorted, not breaking your concentration on the shot you lined up. Carlos was in deep conversation with his engineers, the intensity of the moment reflected in his face.
You didn’t have to look to know Annalese rolled her eyes “Fair point. Do you know where she’s been? This is the third time today.”
“My money is Red Bull” you answered “Y’know, with the two of them sucking each other’s faces off for the past few months.”
Annalese chuckled, shaking her head “I did not need that image in my head. But she needs to get her act together. I can’t have one of my photographers slacking and spending time in a rival garage.”
“Tell that to her, not me” you muttered, turning your attention back to Carlos, who was now finishing up with his team.
“Yeah, you’re at least quick with your trips down to Williams”
Once again, you tore your focus from your camera to focus on your boss. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in her words. “What do you mean? I’m rarely down there.”
It was Annalese’s turn to be confused “Oh I thought with you and Logan-.”
“What? Oh no. Logan and I aren’t - we’re just good friends” you clarified
“Oh, my bad. I’ve seen you and Logan together a lot recently. I thought something was starting” Annalese apologized.
“You’re all good. But after everything with Max, I think I’ve sworn off liking drivers” you said “They’re too much for me.”
“Fair enough” Annalese replied, her tone turning more serious as she watched Carlos. “Just keep an eye on Isabella. If she’s going to be absent, I need to know so I can plan accordingly. Carlos’ photos aren’t your responsibility.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out for her” you said
As the sunset in the sky and the race drew nearer, the energy in both of the Ferrari garages grew. You were in Charles’ garage, capturing the last moments before the cars went out on track. Just as you were about to make your way out to the track, you noticed Isabella finally striding in, a flustered look on her face.
“Look what the cat dragged in” you called, getting Isabella’s attention. “Where have you been?”
“Long story, but I got some great shots in the Red Bull garage” she replied, slightly out of breath and a sheepish grin forming on her face.
It took every bone in your body not to storm down to the Red Bull garages and give Max a piece of your mind then and there. Instead, you pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind. There was a job to be done.
You exchanged a look with Annalese, who raised an eyebrow. “Alright, just don’t let it happen again.” she said “We need all hands on deck everyday.”
“Trust me, it won’t.” Isabella assured, her tone more serious now. “I won’t get distracted again”
Isabella made her way to the back of the garage, presumably to change out her SD cards. As you watched, you couldn’t help but wonder what caused the sudden shift. And you wouldn’t be surprised if Max was somehow linked to it.
======
As everyone hoped, Carlos ended up on the top step of the podium, completing his weekend sweep. Everyone in red was on cloud nine, and for the first time since Azerbaijan, you didn’t hear your country’s national anthem.
The celebrations in the paddock were long done for the day as you made your way out of the Ferrari motorhome. You didn’t wrap up until late into the night, so you were expecting to be the only one still left, but to your surprise, a familiar Dutchman was also still around.
You don’t know if it was the amount of champagne you accidentally ingested during the celebrations, or if it was Isabella’s actions earlier, but something within you caused you to speak.
“Fancy seeing you here” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the swirl of emotions inside you. Max was leaning against the wall of the Energy Station, a bottle of water in hand, looking at something on his phone.
He glanced up, surprise flashing across his face for a second before returning to his normal indifferent stare. “Hey. Congrats on the win”
Your eyebrows furrowed in fake confusion as you stopped next to him “What did I win? I just took photos”
“You know what I mean” Max mumbled, rolling his eyes, though a small smirk formed on his lips “But Carlos looked really strong, he deserved the win, and the celebration.”
“Oh he’s getting every bit of celebration he can. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard Smooth Operator today” you chuckled, the memory of the Spaniard dancing to the music replaying in your head.
Awkward tension hung in the air, neither of you sure what to say next. You looked around the dim paddock, for any idea of a talking point. It wasn’t until you noticed the darkness in the Energy Station that you spoke again. “What’re you even still doing here?”
“Just unwinding after a long day. Needed the extra time to get out. You know how exhausting this track is” he explained, but by the way he was fiddling with his bottle and refusing to make eye contact, you knew he wasn’t telling the truth.
Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with him, a swirl of suspicion and hurt forming in your chest. “You’re waiting for Isabella aren’t you?��
Max paused, his gaze darting away for a moment before meeting your eyes again “I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m specifically waiting for her,” he said, but the slight hesitation in his voice gave it away.
“You know I’m not as dumb as I look, right?” you asked, a small smile forced onto your lips “I know you two are together. I’m happy for you, you deserve it” Your stomach churned as you spoke. Each word felt like a knife twisting deeper, but you couldn’t let him see how much it hurt.
Max’s expression shifted, gratitude and relief mingling in his eyes, only deeping the pain. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear that”
“But you better not steal her from Ferrari any more, Annalese might have your head on a spike” you joked, but a warning tone lingered underneath. Max chuckled slightly, but the tension in his shoulders remained.
“Well she’s an adult, she can make her own decisions” Max shrugged, a hint of definane in his tone, seemingly indifferent to the fact that she only has access to the paddock because of her job.
You crossed your arms as you spoke. “An adult who is employed. She needs to do her job” you countered, your voice firm yet wavering slightly, desperate for him to understand the reality of the situation.
“Oh like you do your job all the time” Max shot back, rolling his eyes with a smirk that felt more like a jab “I’ve seen you running around a lot with Logan. Seems like you have a type.”
Your heart raced, confusion mixing with anger, “Max, what are you talking abou-”
“Don’t play dumb” he interrupted, his expression hardening as the tension grew dramatically “Everyone sees how you act around him.”
You felt your cheeks flush at his words, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flooding through you. “I’m not playing dumb” you shot back, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Logan and I are friends. It’s not my fault he’s actually nice to be around”
“Nice, huh?” Max raised an eyebrow, though his eyes were red with anger “He’s giving you something nice, for sure”
“Are you serious?” you asked, exasperated “You’re really going to stand there and accuse me of sleeping with one of my best friends?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything” he replied, an indifferent mask suddenly plastered on his face, a clear facade that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m just saying you get close to drivers in a way that makes people talk.”
“And it’s just that, Max. It’s just talk. The same stupid rumors that were flown around when you and I were close friends. The same stupid rumors that meant absolutely nothing, because it was just nothing.” you bit back, your voice rising in frustration.
“So you’re saying it’s still nothing?” Max challenged, his tone sharp “You really thought people wouldn’t notice just how cozy you and Logan are? You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Maybe I don’t need to fool anyone” you snapped, pure adrenaline fueling your words “Maybe I’m more comfortable in my friendships with drivers than you are in your relationship with a Ferrari photographer who happens to look like me.”
Max’s expression darkened at your words, a mix of anger and hurt flashing across his face. “That’s low,” he said quietly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
“Weird, isn’t it? Facing the truth” you said, your voice steadier than you felt, trying to anchor yourself amongst the rising tension.
You took a step away from Max, and then another. The space between you felt charged, like a wire ready to snap. You didn’t want to back down, but your words lingered, creating a chasm between you.
Max’s eyes darted around your face, looking for any signs of an emotion other than anger, only stopping when he saw your lips. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in and kiss you. He wanted to tell you that you were all that he wanted, and no one could ever come close.
But he couldn’t. He was waiting for Isabella.
And you almost wanted it too. You almost wanted him to tell you Isabella meant nothing. That it was all just some silly plan to try and get over you. You almost wanted him to confess he had been madly in love with you since you first reconnected last year.
But he wouldn’t. He was waiting for Isabella.
So, you turned any longing you had left into anger. Your fists clenched, dying to take a swing at the man in front of you. You wanted to show just how much pain he caused you through his actions, through his words.
But you shouldn’t. You would lose your job if you did.
And so, you walked away. You unclenched your fist, and walked away. Each step echoed the unresolved mess. The night air was cool against your skin, but inside, there was a mixture of liberation and lingering frustration. Though you said what needed to be said, the ache of unspoken feelings still hung in the air, heavy in your chest as you left him behind.
Austin, USA
The events of the Japan and Qatar Grand Prixs were nearly identical: Charles qualifying within the top five, having a strong start, a poor strategy messing up his race, and hearing the Dutch National Anthem in the distance. It didn’t help that to top it all off, Red Bull had secured the Constructors Championship and Max had secured the Driver’s Championship with ease. The team needed a morale booster, and Austin was the place to try and do it.
“I feel absolutely ridiculous” you said as you stood in the paddock entrance, waiting to capture Charles’ arrival for media day.
He had convinced you to go all out with him and dress up for media day. Your hair was folded into two braids, and a cowboy hat rested on your head. A red bandana was tied around your neck, matching the bright red Ferrari polo that was hiding under your jean jacket. You glanced at yourself in the reflection of a nearby window, half-amused and half-embarrassed.
“What’re you talking about? You look amazing” Annalese teased “You fit in with the locals”
Your eyes scanned the area, only to find absolutely no one dressed like you. “Yeah, because the locals are dressed like a walking cliche” you muttered
“Okay you don’t look that ridiculous” she said “Plus, Charles definitely needs the boost”
As if on cue, you heard the beep of a paddock pass being scanned. Looking to the gates, Charles was walking through the turnstiles, donning a black cowboy hat, black bandana, and dark blue jean jacket.
“There’s my partner in crime!” He called as you captured a few photos of him walking up to you, a goofy grin plastered on his face. “You look amazing”
“Thanks” you replied, slight embarrassment still in your voice “I do feel a bit silly”
“At least you’re not the one in front of the camera” Charles chuckled.
Annalese and yourself walked with Charles down the paddock towards the media areas. To no surprise, all eyes were on the driver as he walked with such confidence. Fans and staff alike had their attention on Charles. Thankfully, any worry about looking ridiculous washed away as the three of you joked your way through the paddock.
After a quick stop in the Ferrari motorhome, the three of you finally made it to the media pen. A few of the other drivers were already there, including the Alpine boys, and Max. For it being early in the morning, the atmosphere was lively, as reporters were prepping their questions.
You and Annalese hung towards the back of the pen, being sure not to get in any of the drivers' ways as they approached the barriers. As Charles and Max talked to the media, you watched intently, each of the boys differed with how they answered the long list of questions.
Charles, as always, had an easygoing charm, answering each question with a relaxed but thoughtful demeanor. He was clearly comfortable in the media spotlight, using humor to deflect some of the tougher questions while staying focused on the bigger picture for Ferrari.
Across the pen was Max, who was standing a little more rigidly, with his arms crossed, answering questions with that signature confidence that was almost always tinged with a bit of confidence. Even though both championships were already on lock, there was no sign of complacency in his posture.
A reporter threw him a question about the team’s performance, and Max’s response was sharp and succinct. “We’ve done what we’ve needed to do this season. It’s been a solid year, and I’m happy with the results. But we’re always looking to improve, even when things are going well.”
His tone was calm, but there was an underlying intensity that you knew too well. Sure, you had heard it time and time again in his interviews, but it was also the same intensity you heard in Singapore. It was the same bitterness and anger that was bubbling under the surface.
Max knew you were mere feet behind him. He knew you could hear every single word he was saying. He knew you dressed in that stupid little cowgirl outfit so Charles wouldn’t be the only one in the paddock looking ridiculous, but god did you pull it off.
As his interview wrapped up, you saw how Max’s eyes flickered danced around the room scanning it before landing on you. There was a slight glint in his eyes, almost telling that he was aware of everything - the outfit, the mood, the tension, and maybe even the unspoken distance between you two. And when his gaze met yours, the glint disappeared. There was no warmth, no acknowledgement - just a cold, unreadable look.
You shifted your feet, suddenly very aware of the hat perched on your head and the bandana around your neck. You’d done this for Charles. Just for Charles.
“Everything alright?” Annalese asked, noticing your stiff posture. You hadn’t realized you’d tensed up until she spoke.
“Yeah, just Max is… being Max.” You didn’t elaborate. There wasn’t much else to say.
Max was always intense with the media, but today it felt like something else - something deeper than just the team. Maybe it was the contrast between his icy exterior and the warmth of Charles, or maybe it was his sheer competitiveness, which never seemed to wane. But it felt almost like he was throwing down a silent challenge.
Annalese raised an eyebrow, “Max still has a way of making everything seem personal, huh?”
“Yeah” you couldn’t seem to hide the bitterness in your voice. Personal wasn’t the word you would have chosen, but it was close enough. The fact that he could unsettle you with a glance, that he could turn something as simple as an interview into a moment of quiet conflict, was maddening.
But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Charles was finishing up his own interview now, his easygoing smile still in place, though you could see the familiar exhaustion behind it. When you first started with the team, you would be shocked at how tired he got after each interview. But now that you’ve been here for a while, you couldn’t go a day without seeing it.
“Ready to get out of here?” Charles asked, walking over with a lighthearted air, completely oblivious to the tension that seemed to hang around.
“Absolutely” you gave him a quick smile, happy to leave the heavy atmosphere of the media pen behind. But even as you turned to walk with him, a part of you lingered on Max’s last words. We’re always looking to improve, even when things are going well.
======
You honestly weren’t sure how it happened. You were minding your business in the Ferrari motorhome, editing your content from media day when Annalese approached you, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She knew something you didn’t, and you were about to find out, whether you liked it or not.
“Hey, you free for a second?” she asked, leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed, the usual casual confidence about her.
You looked up from your laptop, blinking a few times as you tried to piece together whether she was being serious or just teasing. “Sure, what’s up?”
She raised an eyebrow, then glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was nearby. “So, you’re familiar with Drive to Survive, right?”
“The Netflix show? Yeah. What about it?” you asked, sitting up a little bit more.
Annalese smirked “Well, they’re filming the weekend in Austin. They’ve been bouncing around the teams trying to get some sort of exciting story line.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what she was getting at “What does that have to do with me?”
“After talking with a few of us, they learned you do a lot of behind the scenes footage and are good friends with a handful of the guys” she explained “And they were wondering if you’d be willing to be followed around and interviewed for a bit.
You blinked a few times, trying to process what Annalese was saying. “They want me to be on camera?”
She gave you a knowing look, her smirk widening. “Yep. They’re apparently looking for someone with your kind of insight - someone who isn’t just a part of the circus but actually gets the day-to-day stuff. And since you’re always with the drivers and the team, it seemed like a good fit. Plus your following is going to help boost their viewers.”
“And you think this is a good idea?” you asked cautiously, trying to get a read on her expression. “What if it all blows up in my face? Or what if it messes up my work?”
Annalese leaned forward slightly, her expression softening, more earnest now. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot. But think about it. You know I wouldn’t push you into something if I didn’t think you could handle it.”
You hesitated for a long moment, lingering on Annalese’s words. Finally, you let out a deep sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But if this all goes to hell, I’m blaming you.”
And that’s how you found yourself sitting in a room in the bowels of the paddock, away from the normal hustle and bustle of the morning of qualifying. You were the only one in a team’s gear, everyone else around you had their clothes embroidered with Netflix, leaving you to be the odd one out.
The lights were bright, and the crew around you looked more prepared for a Hollywood film than a race weekend in Austin. One of the producers had mic’d you up, and was sitting on the other side of the camera from you.
“Okay, y/n. Just state your name, and your role with the team please” She said, a warm smile on her face
“Should I look at you, or look at the camera when I talk?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing
“Looking at me is perfectly fine” She answered
You nodded, shifting slightly in your seat to try and relax, though the sensation of being under the spotlight was unmistakable. This was real. You were being filmed. There was no turning back now.
Taking a deep breath, your eyes locked on the producer. “I’m y/n l/n, and I’m a photographer and content creator for Scuderia Ferrari. I also do personal content creation on the side.”
The producer gave you a quick thumbs up, and gestured for you to keep going. “Great! Now, just tell us a little bit about your role in the paddock and what a typical weekend looks like for you.”
You thought for a moment before speaking. You walked the producer through your day to day life as best as you could, as no weekend was truly the same. Being a team player and focusing on getting the best shots rolled off your tongue. The more you talked, the more relaxed you got.
The producer seemed to notice, as her smile grew a bit bigger. “Sounds like you’ve got a good handle on it. So, you’re clearly around the drivers a lot. What’s your relationship like with them?”
You couldn’t help but glance at the camera, knowing it would probably capture the slight shift in your expression. Talking about the drivers was… complicated. Max especially. He was still fresh in your mind, after everything that’s happened over the course of the last season and a half. You could feel the familiar unease bubble up, but you kept your tone even.
“Well, I’m lucky enough to work with a few of them closely. Obviously, I spend a lot of time with Charles and Carlos. Charles especially out of the two - he’s always easy to talk to, a real pro, and I think we’ve got a good understanding of how to work together. I’m not in Carlos’ garage as much, but every time I’ve been with him or working with him, he’s been lovely. Both of the guys are real team players.”
The interview continued as you talked about the highs and lows of Formula 1. You rambled about the trials and tribulations of your job, but how they’re all worth it in the long run. The producer asked a little bit about your own personal content creation, and how you’ve been able to get an audience of girls interested and involved in motorsports.
The producer then glanced toward the camera crew, signaling that she was ready for the next phase of filming. “Alright, y/n, you’re doing great. We’re going to switch gears now and get a bit more personal. Is that alright?”
You nodded, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind. Personal? What did she mean by that?
“Of course, what do you need?” you asked, trying to sound relaxed.
The producer tilted her head thoughtfully. “We’ve heard some rumors - nothing too crazy - but we’d love to get your thoughts on what it’s like to be close to the drivers, especially in such a high-stakes environment. How do you manage those relationships?”
A little caught off guard, you instinctively glanced toward the camera before responding, your voice a bit steadier than you felt inside. “I think it’s a balancing act. You want to remain professional, but at the same time, you’re still human. You get to know these guys, you become part of their routine. You seem them under pressure, stressed out, and sometimes you’re right there in the middle of it all.” You paused, letting your thoughts settle. “The pressure can definitely build up. But that’s why it’s important to have boundaries. They’re still my friends, but I’ve got to keep that line between being a colleague and a friend.”
The producer’s eyes glinted, clearly recognizing the deeper meaning in your words. “Sounds like there’s a lot of emotional juggling involved. Does any of it change when you factor in your relationship with Max?”
The question hung in the air like a weight, and you immediately felt your stomach tighten. The last thing you wanted to do was delve into anything personal about Max. It had been a complicated relationship - sometimes friendly, sometimes strained. Right now, you weren’t even sure if you had a relationship with the man. The last thing you wanted was to make it seem like there was anything more there than what everyone already saw on the surface.
You took a deep breath, hoping to keep your composure. “Max… well, Max is an interesting case. He’s always been intense. He’s been that way since grade school. Everything’s always full throttle, all the time - whether it’s racing or his personal life. That kind of energy, that drive, it’s both impressive and a little exhausting. But that’s Max. And I get it, I do. I respect it, even if it’s a bit much at times.”
Part of you knew you had to put on a facade while talking about Max. The world couldn’t know the shitshow that was truly hiding behind the scenes. But the other part of you didn’t need to fake it. Even though you wanted to kick Max into the next dimension, you still had such a respect for him.
The producer jotted down a few notes, clearly intrigued. A smirk then danced on her face as he looked up from her paper, and you knew you were in for something.
“Is it harder to separate the personal and professional sides of your relationship with Max, especially with the public watching?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the question. It felt like the room had just gotten a little bit smaller. The public always wanted something - something they could latch onto, something they could analyze - and Max and yourself were prime targets. The last thing you wanted was to give them any more ammunition.
“I mean there’s definitely noise from the outside - fans, media - everyone has an opinion. And sometimes it’s hard not to let that affect you. So I don’t think it’s harder to separate it with Max, but rather different. With him now being a three time World Champion and to know him so long, it always feels like the whole world is watching every interaction. But at the end of the day, he’s still a Formula 1 driver, and I’m still a photographer. Everyone here is just someone doing their job, and no matter how much the world watches, I have to only focus on what I can control.”
The smirk on the producer’s lips turned into a genuine smile, clearly satisfied with your response. However, her eyes flickered with something else - a sense of realization. She jotted down another note and nodded thoughtfully.
“Alright, I think that gives us a solid idea of where things stand. We’ll be capturing some more dynamics in the paddock, but I really appreciate your openness today, y/n. You handled the interview like a pro. We’ll catch up with you later today and tomorrow to film a bit of you in action.”
You exhaled slowly, glad the conversation had taken a turn away from the more personal aspects. As much as you valued your relationships with all of the drivers, it wasn’t something you were keen on oversharing, especially not in front of the cameras, and especially not about Max.
As you left the room, you felt a slight sense of relief washed over you. The interview was over. The questions had been answered. But something about that last exchange - about Max - lingered in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure if you managed to keep the mask in place completely, but you hoped the world would see it as nothing more than professional boundaries being drawn, not an ongoing emotional tug-of-war.
Doubts quickly swirled in your mind as you walked. Were the boundaries that you set good enough? Was it a mistake to even mention them? Why did everything always have to come back to Max?
There was only one person in the paddock that could soothe your uncertainties. Only one person who knew exactly what to say to make you feel at least a bit better. You made a quick detour past the Ferrari motorhome, your eyes scanning for a certain driver in blue. When you caught sight of him, you darted towards him.
“I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?”
Logan’s head whipped around when he heard your voice, confusion plastered on his face. He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden appearance and the directness of your question. For a moment, he stood frozen, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what you’d just said.
“Wait, what?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and concern. “What’re you talking about?”
You ran a hand through your hair, wanting to explain yourself without sounding like a total mess. “I just - look. I just finished that interview, and they asked me some stuff about Max, and now I’m spiraling a bit. It’s complicated… you know? The whole thing. And there’s this weird pressure, like I’m walking a fine line, and I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. So I-”
Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile that calmed you more than you’d like to admit. “You’re not making any sense, but I’m guessing you’re worried what people are going to think, and that Max is going to go ape shit on you again, right?” he said softly, his tone light, but understanding.
You exhaled deeply, “Yeah. I- they asked about Max and I wasn’t prepared for it, and it’s just hard to explain anything without it sounding more personal than it is. I don’t want to give the impression that there’s anything more between us, especially with him and Isabella being a thing or whatever.”
Logan’s expression softened. “Y/n. We both know how the media can twist things, especially with a guy like Max, but I can guarantee you’re not doing anything to give the idea that there’s more than just two people doing their jobs. You’re doing a better job at keeping everything with him private than most.” he said, his voice almost hinting at something.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, confusion now filtering in your tone
“You mean you didn’t see what she posted earlier?” Logan asked, slightly amused
“Logan, I was just in a dark room getting interrogated for forty minutes. I haven’t seen anything.” you reminded him.
He pulled out his phone, tapping on Instagram and finding Isabella's profile. A few months ago, he had mentioned she followed him almost immediately after meeting him in Bahrain. He eventually turned the screen toward you, where a photo of Isabella chatting with Sophie and Jos was posted on her story.
“No way” you finally got out, disbelief dripped in your words. “Catching up with the best!” you read off of the screen.
“Yep. She’s really not shy about it.” Logan replied
Your fingers rubbed against your forehead, trying to process everything that was going on. “I swear she never ceases to amaze me.”
“Right?” he agreed, glancing at his phone once again to check the time. “I’m so sorry but I need to get to the garage before qualifying starts”
You nodded, knowing damn well you should have been in yours about five minutes ago. “All good. I’ll see you around.”
“Oh we'll be texting each other the second the session is done” he chuckled, though you knew he wasn’t kidding “If you ever need to vent, let me know. You know where to find me.”
With one final hug, Logan turned back towards the paddock, making his way to Williams. You watched him go for a moment, feeling strangely grounded, before you continued on your way.
And Logan was right. When qualifying ended, his name was the first one to pop up on your phone.
Monte Carlo, Monaco
The triple header in the Americas could not have gone any worse for Charles. A P3 finish fell between a disqualification and failing to start, but it didn’t come without damage to the car. It was safe to say that Ferrari, along with a few of the other drivers, welcomed the short break before going to Las Vegas.
Thankfully, you hadn’t run into Max and Isabella during the time off. According to her social media, they had also flown back to Monaco for a bit, before they jetted off to Spain. That was fine by you, the further away, the lower the chance for you to see them.
Yourself, along with Logan, Oscar, Alex, Pierre, Alexandra and Kika were in Charles and Alexandra’s apartment. The eight of you often found yourselves there, with most of you living in Monaco already, and Logan and Oscar happy to make the short flight from the UK. Multiple bottles of various alcohols had already been cracked open, and the remnants of beer cans were scattered around.
Charles and Alexandra had made themselves comfortable on their couch, with Alexandra’s hand placed gently on her boyfriend’s thigh. Pierre and Kika were on the loveseat, with Kika playfully tossing her empty seltzer can at Pierre, the aluminum hitting him square in the face. Oscar and Alex were in the kitchen, trying to find another bottle of something to open.
Too many drinks later, you found yourself sitting on the floor, tucked against Logan. The arm that didn’t have a bottle of Corona attached to it was lazily draped over your shoulder while you were nursing the bottom of a seltzer can. You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, but at some point in the evening you had ended up close to him, his side pressed against yours as you both lounged on the floor in the middle of the action.
Logan’s fingers traced the fabric of your shirt as he tilted his head back, watching the others with a half-smile. For the first time in a long time, everything felt…easy. You could feel the weight of everything that had been building up in your mind, the endless questions about boundaries and relationships, the complexities of being so close to this world, and yet trying to stay on the sidelines. For the first time in a while, you weren’t worrying about any of it.
“Are you trying to hypnotize me with your fingers, or is that just how you relax?” you asked lightly, breaking the quiet tension.
Logan’s eyes flicked down to you, and for a split second, you could see the amusement in his gaze before he shrugged, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe both” he teased, his thumb moving slightly to catch a stray lock of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Is it working?”
You rolled your eyes, but the soft blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I don’t know about hypnotizing, but it’s definitely… distracting” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.
Logan chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and leaned back slightly, pulling you closer without a second thought. His body was warm next to yours, his presence now inescapable as his arm tightened slightly around you. “I’ll take that as a compliment” he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of something else - something unspoken, something that lingered between you in the air, neither of you quite acknowledging it fully.
From across the room, you could hear Oscar and Alex laughing about something in the kitchen, their voices rising above the clinking of glass and the low chatter. Pierre and Kika were now in the middle of an exaggerated argument over who ate the last potato chip in the bag. Charles and Alexandra were in hushed conversation as their eyes glanced at the movie playing on the TV.
You knew Logan. Knew the easygoing confidence that he wore like a second skin. And still, there was something different about the way he was acting tonight Something that made you feel a little unsure. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the other way around. Perhaps it wasn’t him that had changed, but you, starting to notice the things you’d pushed aside for far too long.
Logan’s chuckle seemed to vibrate through you, warm and low, a sound you could feel more than hear. His voice broke the calm tension again, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re being quiet now. That’s not like you.”
You shifted a little, suddenly aware of the limited space between you, of how easy it was to let the moment carry on. “Just thinking” you muttered, trying to keep the conversation light, to keep things from tipping into something more serious.
“About what?” His voice was softer now, more curious than teasing. He didn’t let his arm move away from your shoulder, not yet, like it was the easiest thing in the world to have you close.
You hesitated. You could feel the question pushing down on you, the debate of how much of your inner world you were willing to share right now. Was it too soon? Or was it that Logan, of all people, made it easier to be honest than you’d ever let yourself be?
“It’s just…” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed for not letting go of everything, like you usually would when it came to Max. But maybe that was the problem. You weren’t with Max right now. “I’m not sure anymore… where I stand with all of this. With… well, everything”
Logan paid close attention, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced with something more attuned, more patient. His gaze was softer than it had been before. “You mean with Max? And everything that’s been happening with him and Isabella?”
You nodded, your eyes fixed on the can in your hands, unwilling to meet his gaze just yet. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m caught in the middle of something I never asked to be a part of.” you admitted
Logan didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, but you could see the gears turning behind his eyes. His thumb brushed against your skin again, the contact reassuring, grounding. “You’re not caught in the middle. You just care too much about things that aren’t yours to fix.” His tone was gentle, but there was something firm underneath it, like he was trying to make sure you understood. “You don’t have to be the one who sorts everything out. Sometimes things just… unfold on their own.”
You glanced up at him then, unsure of what you were expecting, but the steadiness of his gaze made you feel lighter somehow. Like maybe he had a point.
The sound of glass clanking and a chorus of yells brought you back to reality. You and Logan were the only ones left in the living room, as the other four joined Oscar and Alex in the kitchen.
“I feel like we should go check that out,” you said, standing up from the floor.
Logan agreed, and the two of you made your way into the kitchen. When you stepped inside, the scene in front of you was just as chaotic as you expected. Oscar was holding up a bottle of tequila triumphantly, while Alex and Pierre were in the midst of arguing about if the liquor was “actually drinkable”. Charles was going through his cabinets, trying to find something as Kika and Alexandra were to the side, laughing as they shook their heads.
You approached the counter, with Logan following suit. As you rested yourself against the cool granite, you felt the warmth of Logan’s body against your back and one of his hands resting on your waist. Kika and Alexandra exchanged glances before raising their eyebrows at you. In response, you shrugged, not wanting to draw any more attention to the driver that was glued to you.
However, the girls would not let it go. As Logan got wrapped up in the boy’s shenanigans, Kika and Alexandra pulled you into one of the guest rooms.
“What is going on?” Kika asked, a drunken giggle coming out of her mouth.
You blinked as the door clicked shut behind you, a momentary wave of confusion sweeping over you. The two girls were leaning against the wall, Kika trying to look serious, but her grin betraying her, while Alexandra simply raised an eyebrow in a knowing way.
“Honestly, I-” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t exactly sure what you should be saying. It wasn’t like anything happened with Logan - well not yet, anyway - but it felt like there was this subtle undercurrent between you that both Kika and Alexandra were so clearly picking up on.
“Don’t even try to play innocent” Kika giggled, her voice slurring just a little from the drinks she’d had, but her eyes were sharp. “We’ve been watching you two all night.”
You glanced at Alexandra, whose arms were crossed but a soft smirk tugged at her lips. “I don’t know what you mean.” you said, though you could feel your face heating up.
Alexandra wasn’t buying it “Uh-huh. You’re both acting like it’s just another casual hangout, but since when do you two sit that close?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Kika cut you off with a playful wave of her hand “Don’t try to play the ‘I don’t know’ card. We’re not blind.” She paused, her eyes narrowing with a mischievous twinkle. “So… what’s the deal? Something’s happening isn’t it?”
Your stomach twisted slightly at the question. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest a little harder now. Of course, it wasn’t just the alcohol that had made everything feel easier tonight - it was Logan, too. But did that mean anything?
“Nothing’s happened.” you said carefully “We’ve just been hanging out. That’s it”
“Yeah right” Alexandra said, her smirk widening. “You know, you could tell us the truth. You two are practically glued together.”
“It’s just easy with him” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “There’s no…pressure, you know? It just feels like… like it should be this way.”
Kika tilted her head, her expression more thoughtful now, her drunk giggles gone for the moment. “So you are into him?”
You felt your face heat up again. It wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for it, but it seemed like the only way to answer. “I don’t know, honestly. But I guess there’s something about him that’s… different. Makes everything feel easy.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously. “But I’m just not sure where I stand with everything else right now.”
Alexandra stepped forward, her expression shifted to something more serious. “I get it. You’re trying to figure out if what you’re feeling is real, or if it’s just the situation.” She paused, her gaze soft but intense “You deserve to explore this with him, without holding back. You’ve been in that… other situation with Max for so long, but maybe it’s time to let someone else in.”
At the mention of his name, you froze. You were instantly transported back to Singapore, that night in the paddock. Seems like you have a type.
“Don’t you think I’m jumping into something too soon?” you mumbled, suddenly becoming well aware of your hands and the way they fidgeted.
Kika caught your eye, and her expression softened “No one’s saying you need to rush into anything, but it’s okay to let yourself breathe. You’ve been wrapped up in that for too long.” She said, the words shared an understanding. Like they were burdens you were trying to carry, but time to let go of.
Alexandra leaned in a little, her voice softer now. “Sometimes moments happen when you’re not trying to force them. Just let yourself see where it goes. With him.”
Barcelona, Spain
The cool Barcelona air hit Max as soon as he made his way out to the balcony of his hotel room. It was a welcome change from the stuffy, heated atmosphere inside, the weight of the day lifting as the wind brushed past his face. The city lights flickered beneath him, painting the streets below with the soft glow of late-night life.
Isabella had already gone to bed. She had been with him all evening, talking, her hand resting casually on his arm, full attention on him. She had been sweet, supportive, asking how his day went, listening attentively to his thoughts. But despite her presence, despite the affection she had shown, Max felt… disconnected. His interactions with her were starting to feel more like a routine more than anything real. Like he had fallen into a rhythm that wasn’t his own.
Max wasn’t a stranger to the demands of his relationship. He’d always known Isabella liked to be close, ever since she started popping up in the Red Bull garage, looking for him. But tonight, something about it felt stifling. The worst part was that he didn’t know why. She was everything he had once wanted in a partner - supportive, loyal, there when he needed her. And yet, he stood alone on the balcony in the middle of the night, all he felt was nothing.
Leaning against the railing, he exhaled a long breath, watching the way the lights of the city seemed to pulse and breathe along with him. But even as the quiet of the night settled in, there was a different kind of noise inside his head. It wasn’t just about Isabella, but about you. The way things had ended in Singapore - the words he had said, the way you had walked away.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. Max wasn’t sure what he was hoping for anymore, but his thumb tapped through his apps, aimlessly landing on Instagram.
His mind flashed back to Singapore again. The heat of the moment, the exchange of glances, the accusations that had been thrown with no proof. Then that moment when you walked away.
Max knew that wasn’t how he wanted things to end. Far from it. He wasn’t good with emotions, he never had been, especially when it came to you. But that wasn’t an excuse. He hadn’t been fair to you.
He scrolled through his feed absently, his thumb moving without purpose, until he saw a recent post. It was a photo of you - captured in a candid moment, a shot from Brazil. You were laughing with some of the Ferrari mechanics, and even from a distance, the warmth of your eyes was unmistakable.
It was stupid, he knew. But just seeing it made him ache. He hadn’t meant to go this far. He hadn’t planned on checking up on you. But the post was like a pull - a reminder of something he didn’t want to forget.
Max tapped the photo, noticing an account was tagged. y/nl/n.jpeg. He knew Lando and Daniel had accounts with similar names, so he tapped. A small part of him almost hoped he wouldn’t find anything. That somehow it would lead to a dead end. But instead, your profile opened in front of him, fun and captivating, just like you.
The profile picture was you standing on the track in Monaco, your camera in your hand, a confident smirk on your face. Max had seen that smile plenty of times before, felt its warmth, and he realized with a sharp pang in his chest that he missed it. He missed you - the way everything was so easy with you, how he didn’t need to hold anything back.
He scrolled through the feed, quickly realizing this wasn’t the same account as your personal one. Photos from races around the world, photos that you had taken, were posted. Your face was nowhere to be found, it was only how your lens viewed the world.
There were photos of sunsets over the racetracks, candid shots of teammates laughing in the paddock, and even pictures of fans in the stands, their faces alight with excitement. He couldn’t help but smile at how well you captured these moments. It was clear you were more than just a bystander; you were present in a way that only someone who truly understood the sport could be.
He tapped on a picture of a sunset from Austin - one of the most stunning shots Max had ever seen of the Texas sky turning orange and purple, Charles’ car streaking across the horizon. The image was perfectly composed, the light bleeding into the asphalt, and for a moment, Max felt like he was back there, in the heart of the weekend.
He scrolled through the carousel of photos that were attached. Most of them were of Ferrari, their crew and the cars. But as he scrolled to the last photo, he froze. It was of the RB-19, his RB-19, flying down the track.
Max’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes fixed on the photo. It was a perfectly timed shot. His car sliced through the corners of the track, the blurred backdrop of the stand giving the image a sense of motion and speed.
You had taken this photo.
Curiosity piqued as he swiped out of the carousel he was looking at, quickly tapping on another shortly after. He paid little attention to the first handful of photos, but at the end, was a photo of him on the podium in Belgium, drenched in sweat and champagne from the celebrations.
Max moved onto another carousel. This time, photos from Miami in 2022. Sure enough, at the very end, was a photo of him and Charles embracing each other after the on track battle.
With every post Max had looked at, there was always a photo of him mixed in somehow. Whether he was in the background, or the main subject, every single post involved him. It was as though you had seen the things he hadn’t let himself feel, capturing the rawness of the moments he had tucked away.
He managed to scroll all the way to the bottom of your profile, to the very first post you had ever made. They were all photos you had taken as a kid, most likely from the red point and shoot camera you had glued to you. And there, at the very end of the photos was a shot of a little boy Max had known too well. The same photo that had been resting in your photo album for years. The same photo of the little boy that now resided in Max’s wallet.
That little boy needed to get you back.
=============================
tagged: @mixedstyles
#flash forward mv33#formula one#formula 1#f1#f1 2024#max verstappen#charles leclerc#writing#creative writing#red bull racing#f1 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#red bull f1#red bull formula 1#rbr f1#scuderia ferrari#ferrari#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 oneshot#formula one imagine#f1 x y/n#mv33#mv1#mv1 fic
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Tangled Up ☆ Naga x Reader | Kinktober Day 25
Summary: You just wanted to camp out and explore the jungle, but apparently, something wanted to explore you as well.
Word Count: 2098
Tags: fem reader, double penetration, monster, naga, cunnilingus, slight perversion, reader depravity, tongue fucking, face fucking, face sitting, sixty-nining, power bottom reader, bondage (in a way), creampie, vaginal and anal penetration
I was going on a camping trip, it was going to be just me, myself, and the great outdoors all alone with nothing but trees and wildlife. My biggest dream is to find some once-in-a-lifetime thing. But for now, I just wanted to have a peaceful outing without city distractions. I had a book bag or two full of everything I could have possibly needed for half a week in the forest.
I was hiking up the mountain, seething in personal regret that led me to be out there as if it wasn't by free will. Maybe I should have worked out a couple of weeks in advance of this trip; maybe then I wouldn't have felt like death was wrapping its bony fingers around my legs. Everything hurts, I would turn around if I wasn't already so far in; it would be too much work. The better plan is to walk towards the nearest clearing and camp there for half a week. Thankfully, it wasn't that far off when I found a clearing. It was a nice mossy ground with a bunch of trees surrounding it; I couldn't have gotten luckier.
It takes about an hour to set up everything, and now I feel like I learned a little nap.
…………………………………………………………………
I woke up to shuffling noises outside my tent… was it some kind of wild creature like a leopard? Or maybe it was another person? Regardless, you grabbed your machete, carefully unzipped your tent, and peered outside. Your eyes widened at what you saw. It was a naga, like straight out of fantasy novels or a movie.
He was big, around fifteen feet from what you could see, with small, rounded black scales covering his tail and some scales scattered here and there blended nicely with his dark gray skin. There were some on his hands that reached up to his upper wrists, back, and shoulders that seemed like they might be useful for defense, but then there were others on his collarbone, cheeks, and under his eyes, that seemed… to enhance appearance. Perhaps it was a part of attracting a mate? Of course, you didn’t know for sure; after all, you weren’t a naga, and this was a whole new species! It was exactly what you were hoping for.
He tilted his head to the side as he looked at my Dutch oven over the put-out campfire curiously, which allowed me to see his scaled and pointed ears, which were previously hidden behind his medium-length honey-colored hair.
He shifts around the area of your campsite. Messing and looking at all the stuff that you left out. His jaw unhinged as he began lowering one of your overnight cameras into his mouth.
“Wait a minute, that's not food!” You said abandoning the safety of your tent and jumping out to stop him. His slitted pupils shifted over to you. Suddenly you were feeling a lot more nervous than before, You clutched your machete tighter, ready for anything to happen. Snakes only attack when feeling threatened or when hunting, based on the fact that he was about to eat your camera you guessed that he was a bit hungry, hopefully not for you.
“A human?” He said slithering towards you. He circled around you, inspecting you curiously and you turned with him. Rule number one of dealing with creatures in the wild is to never turn or back to them. However you didn’t notice that he now had you trapped in the circle of his tail.
“You’ve encountered humans before?” You asked for a hint of excitement in your voice and maybe a bit of fear.
“One. tried to kill me. I kill him. Then eat, not good.” He spoke, and his words caused A bit of shock in you, but you guessed it was in his nature.
You can only hope that his disinterested taste in humans would mean that you were safe on being a meal for the large snake beast. His bright eyes stare into what feels like your soul as he closes the circle, and his tail surrounds him. At the same speed, it takes you to blink, you are stuck in the grip of a large constrictor. You let out a groan as you try to pull away.
“Please don’t kill me!” you whined as you looked up at the naga in hopes that you could see into what he was thinking.
“I will not kill you,”
“So, can you let go of me?”
“No,”
“So you're not going to eat me, you’re not going to kill me… are you just curious?”
“Cu..ri..ous?”
“It means you want to know or learn about something.”
“Yes. I am curious,”
“Oh, that works out fine. I’m curious about you, too, so let's learn about each other.”
Over the next two days, you learned all about Naga and, like to say, you taught him about humans, You also learned his name, which was Ornanger. What you had been really dying to know, though, was what that naga-peen looked like. You had drawn diagrams of all his body except for his dick. And you had to know what it looked like, in the name of science of course. Oh, who were you kidding, Ornanger was too sexy for you not to hit that.
“Hey, Ornanger, I'm just gonna get right to the point I’d like to see your penis.”
“Penis?” He gives you a head tilt.
“Your reproductive organ?”
He looks down at his slit as he moves to get the so-called penis you desire to see. You watch him as he pushes his fingers into himself; he lets out a sigh. He moves slowly and gently as it is assumingly an It was certainly a sight to see, but when not one but two cocks pushed out of the slit.
The tips were a healthy shade of purple, like a grape or a plum. They had a sweet shine to them, but the purple faded out to his regular gray skin tone. The tips were slightly pointed and a bit slanted, while the shafts themselves were long and kind of slender.
You bite your lip at the sight of the two monster rods. You want it, want to get closer to it, and potentially even get a taste of it if you can.
“Can I feel it?”
They give a few strokes; you use both your hands to give them some needed attention in your hands; their smooth texture feels new to your senses. The precum spread over his shafts so easily. Oranajer let out a hiss as your hands slid down his cocks.
“What about you? Show me yours. Is it so different?” You were surprised by his request but you weren’t gonna argue and quickly discarded your pants and underwear.
Ornanger looked at your front in confusion before looking and sliding between your legs for what you supposed was a better view. He pulls you closer, giving your cunt a few sniffs, aka flicking his tongue. Testing out the new territory causes you to shiver a bit as you feel the air moving about you in such an area.
He moved closer to it until his tongue flicked up your folds. You let out a sigh at the feeling and wiggle back into his face. Pressing yourself against him, which he doesn't seem to mind.
He whimpers softly into your dripping folds, not quite sure what to do next. He tries to move his tongue around experimentally, tasting you for the first time. It tastes sweet and salty, so different from anything else he's ever tried before.
He switches from being face deep in your pussy to licking up your juices. To push his tongue deep into your entrance and thrust his tongue into you, causing hushed moans to escape your lips.
He moans back into your wet slit, savoring the sound and sensation of your pleasure. He laps up your juices greedily, letting his tongue swirl around your clit. His free hand reaches between your legs, spreading them open even wider and giving him better access to your dripping sex.
Your eyes were on the cocks, which were twitching your immediate attention. You lean down to grab them, feeling like you should pay him back with how good his mouth feels. You put one in your mouth and stroke the other. Your fingers squeezed and twisted one cock, traveling up and down the length, spreading precum all over as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on the other.
His precum didn’t exactly taste how you expected it to, but that wasn't exactly a bad thing. It was much more viscous in texture and had sort of a savory flavor.
You switched between the two cocks, swashing them in your mouth the best you could. He started rocking into her face as he was eating you out. You caress his scales; that's your switch between his thrusting cocks. You feel like if you let him continue this interaction, you're gonna cum, and not have any energy to continue, and you want more.
“Wait, wait, wait.” You tap his scales, and he pulls away so that he can listen to what you are going to say.
“I want to feel these inside of me.”
Ornanger lets go of your legs, and you move to bend down. Once you are in the right position, he grips your hips with one hand and starts to push his cock into you. You let out a wince as you feel one going into your ass while the other is in your pussy. You do your best not to tense up so he can move more easily.
He watches you fidget and writhe against him as his thick cocks pressed against your tight holes. Ornanger wrapped his strong arms around your waist, holding you close to his muscular body. He began thrusting rhythmically, the tip of his tail coiling possessively around your legs to prevent any escape. With each thrust, your bodies collided, creating wet slapping sounds that echoed through the jungle.
He basically purrs contentedly as he feels himself sinking deeper into you, his slick cocks pushing past your entrances until they are buried deep inside you. He could feel your body tremble a little beneath him as he did so, and he couldn't help but enjoy the sight. It seemed like you were enjoying this as much as he was. He felt like he was filling you up so intently from being in both holes, feeling like they were pressed right against each other in different canals.
Ornanger slowly rocked into you; the slickness of his cocks sliding into you was such a strange feeling. They were touching you so deeply. Snaking in and out. You couldn’t help but whimper at the dual stimulation. There wasn’t a single place he wasn’t touching inside you. The stretch was magnificent. With every thrust, Ornanjer was pressing against your sweet spots, and then as he dragged his cocks out, they left you with such a feeling of euphoria just for the actions to repeat over and over again.
Your stomach was winding itself up in a tight coil. You wrapped your legs around Ornanjer’s waist, pulling him closer to your body. Compared to your hot ass body, his body had a nice low warmth to it. You could feel the sweat rolling down your body. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time ornanger had seen you sweat, so it didn’t interrupt your sexy time.
He pulls back, and you're pulling forward at the last second, causing him to shoot his monster load onto your backside and over your folds. He lets out a hiss, and you shiver a bit in the aftermath.
“Must cum inside, mate,” He muttered, and you looked back to see he was still hard. Your eyes widened as you realized you triggered Ornanger’s need for procreation, with you being his target. Guess the only way out of this is to satisfy him. You could feel yourself getting close. Your legs were tensing up, and your back was arching off the ground.
“A-ah~ I’m gonna cum,” you cried out
Ornanjer groaned as he came inside you. Ropes of cum spurting into you. You moaned, feeling your holes were filled to the brim with that sweet, sticky fluid. At the same time, you also reached climax; your walls spasmed around Ornanjer, milking every last drop out of him.
“So, I don’t think I took in all the knowledge that I needed. Do you mind if we go again?”
#smut#kinktober#kinktober 2024#naga#naga oc#naga x reader#naga smut#monster lover#tetrophilia#monster fucker#monster fucking#monster lover smut
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[ID: First image is of a golden brown boule studded with blueberries and covered with seeds; second image shows the boule cut in half to show a holely bread with blueberries throughout. End ID]
Rustic no-knead blueberry bread
This is a crusty, no-knead, sweet-savory bread that pairs blueberries with spices and herbs inspired by West Asian cooking. Fennel, anise, sesame, and mahlab powder are reminiscent of the دُقَّة كَعْك ("duqqa ka'k"; cake powder) used in pastries, while za'tar and caraway skew more savory.
The long rise yields a well-fermented dough with a robust flavor that stands up well against the sweetness and pungency of the fennel and aniseed. The result is a jammy, complex, aromatic boule.
This bread has an open, irregular crumb, great for slicing, toasting, dipping, or spreading. Try it with labna and honey, olive oil and za'tar, or a spreadable cheese. I've also made sandwiches with thick slices of this bread and fried, glazed tofu drizzled with tarator and topped with Iraqi mango pickles, to excellent effect.
Recipe under the cut!
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Makes one medium-sized boule.
Ingredients:
3 cups (360g) bread flour
2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp dry active yeast
2 tsp mahlab powder (optional)
1 tsp fennel seed + 1 tsp aniseed, coarsely ground
About 1 2/3 cup water (room temperature)
1/2 cup firm fresh blueberries
1 Tbsp za’tar (wild thyme), crumbled
Additional fennel seeds, aniseed, caraway, and sesame, to top
Mahlab (محلب) powder is the ground-up pits of Mahleb cherries. It can be purchased at a halal or specialty spice store.
Za'tar (wild thyme) can be found in dried form at a halal grocery store. Note that the spice blend, which includes wild thyme, sumac, sesame seeds, and other spices, will also be labelled "za'tar." If you don't have or can't locate any of the herb itself, use any dried woody herb of your choice (e.g. rosemary, thyme, sage), chopped.
Instructions:
1. Making the dough. Measure flour into a large mixing bowl. Add salt, yeast, seeds, and thyme and stir to combine.
2. Gradually add water until a soft, sticky dough forms. You may need more or less than 1 2/3 cup.
3. Flatten dough in the bowl and top with some of the blueberries. Fold the dough to enclose the blueberries, add more blueberries on top, and fold again. Repeat until all blueberries are incorporated.
4. First rise. Shape dough into a ball and place in the bowl seam-side down. Pat the top of the dough with some olive oil and cover the bowl with a kitchen towel. Allow to rest at room temperature for 16-20 hours.
5. Shaping. Gently remove the dough from the bowl and allow it to deflate. Shape the boule by folding an edge in over the center, rotating the dough slightly, and repeating until you have gone all the way around.
6. Flip the ball over so the seam side is down. Place your hands on either side of the dough and then move them down towards the base of the boule, tucking some of the dough under and towards the seam, to tighten the top of the ball. Rotate the ball slightly and do this again, repeating until you've gone all the way around a couple times.
This is the basic method for shaping a boule, lightly adapted to avoid breaking any blueberries. If any of the blueberries start to pop out of the surface of the dough, just press them back in.
7. Second rise. Place your boule on a piece of parchment paper and cover with a kitchen towel. Allow to rise for 1-2 hours, until noticeably puffy.
8. Baking. Place a Dutch oven in your oven and preheat to 450 °F (230 °C). Remove the Dutch oven and place the boule, along with the parchment paper, inside. Put the lid on the Dutch oven and return it to the oven. Bake for 30 minutes.
9. Remove the Dutch oven's lid and bake bread for another 20 minutes, or until the crust is deeply golden brown.
To bake the bread without a Dutch oven, preheat a baking tray in the center of the oven, while preheating a skillet (rated to at least 450 °F) in the bottom; once preheated, transfer the bread and parchment paper to the tray, and pour a few cups of water in the skillet; bake for 30 minutes. Remove the skillet and bake another 20 minutes until golden brown.
Allow the bread to cool completely before cutting into it to avoid creating a mushy texture.
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How peaky men fart ‼️
So….today we will be discussing the different ways that I personally think these peaky men fart, maybe I will make this a series like “Unhinged peaky blinder headcanons” And if you have your own unhinged headcanons that you want do feel free to ask! my request are very much open
Tommy 🤍
- most people are convinced this man doesn’t fart, but it’s a natural human function so of course even tommy shelby needs to let one out
- Dead serious expression and completely unfazed
- His farts have no sound and they dont even stink so no one even knows if he farted
- He also has pretty privilege and he knows that so he uses it to his full advantage
- Because of that he has the ability to fart loudly and no one would even bother to think it was him because pretty people dont fart
- In the scenario where if he let one out silently and it did stink he would probably just light a cigarette afterwards to cover up the smell
Arthur 🧡
- Loud and unapologetic
- Disrespectful.
- Absolutely no consideration for the people around him
- He would let it rip and laugh and say that it was the “sound of victory”
- He farts the loudest and is very proud of the volume of it
- He wont fart around ladies though
-Buuut if you were a guy, I’m sorry but you are going to be his victim
-He is kind enough though to let you know if he’s going to fart
John 🩵
- Now this one does NOT let you know when he is going to fart
- Always blames it on someone else
- Has the WETTEST farts and you’re always having to ask him to check his boxers because you are so sure he shit himself
- He does the classic “pull my finger” joke with his kids
- If you were laying down next to this man i’m sorry but you are getting dutch ovened and you will suffocate
- After he lets you out he apologises and says “must be the cabbages you made earlier”
Alfie 🤎
- Another loud farter here, second to arthur
- Also lets you know when he’s going to fart
- You guys could be walking together and he will stop you, “Hold on treacle…” and then proceed to rip ass.
- Will continue holding your hand as he farts
-If you seem embarrassed he will turn it into a whole monologue when he’s done and when you guys continue walking
- Gives long-winded explanations about how it is “A normal human bodily function”
- “you see love…holding it in wouldn’t be healthy because you see right…it’s a sign of a proper, working digestive system, its how god meant it to be”
Michael 💙
- Oh boy please don’t ever call him out he will get defensive and his ego will be CRUSHED
- Really feels like farting is emasculating and will insist on holding it in till he gets home to let it out
- Polly can always tell when he needs to fart for some reason and will tell her stubborn son that he is allowed to fart
- But in the case where he desperately needs to fart, he will excuse himself and go outside
- And boy does he let that one go wild because he’s pretty sure that fart cured all his stomach problems
- His farts doesn’t smell too idk why I just feel like he wouldn’t have stinky farts
Finn 💛
- Everyone pushes the blame onto him if they fart
- Especially arthur
-John would blame it on finn if he was sitting next to girl that he fancied. “Ughhh finn you nasty bastard…letting one out next to a lass?”
-Tommy would fart and then blame it on finn if someone smelt his own silent fart and everyone around will he quick to believe him
-Poor Finn
-If he farts he will be very embarrassed
-but understands its normal so he would try not to make a big deal out of it and man it out lol
-If people do start laughing at him though, he will join and laugh along just to save face even if it did actually hurt his feelings just a wee bit
That is all lovely human beings please do let me know what you guys think of this. The reason for writing this purely because I was super bored and my imagination goes wild and also because I thought that it would be completely hilarious lmao xx
#peaky blinder headcanon#peaky blinders#peaky blinder imagine#alfie solomons#alfie solomons headcanon#alfie solomon fanfic#alfie solomons imagine#tommy shelby#tommy shelby headcanon#tommy shelby imagines#thomas shelby#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinder fanfic#john shelby#john shelby heacanon#john shelby imagine#john shelby fanfic#arthur shelby#arthur shelby headcanon#arthur shelby fanfic#arthur shelby imagine#Michael gray#Michael gray headcanon#Michael gray fanfic#Michael gray imagine#finn shelby#finn shelby headcanon#peaky fucking blinders#peaky fookin blinders
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Doc, I’m moving out on my own for the first time, and I’m wondering what cookware is absolutely vital. I tried looking it up and got told about a wild variety of cookware that I’m not sure I need if I’m just cooking for me, but also I don’t know which can be left out in favor of more versatile cookware.
OKAY FANTASTIC I THRIVE ON THIS KIND OF THING.
So, let's say I'm going into an empty kitchen, and I can only have six pieces of cookware. These are ROUGHLY in order of how I would buy them, though I could be argued on a couple points. All brands are what I think are the best version of said object is--you are free to buy a different or cheaper one.
Dutch Oven
This is an absolute workhorse. You can braise in it, cook pasta in it, use it as a roaster for chicken, make soup in it, fry in it, bake bread in it, even bake a cake if you gotta though it wouldn't be my first choice. I prefer plain to enameled, enamel always chips eventually.
Lodge Logic 7 quart
2. Sheet Pan
Here's what we use for cookies, roast vegetables, fish, also can be used for chicken and other things.
Nordic Ware Half Sheet
3. Sauce Pan
So for making sauces, heating up a can of soup, melting chocolate, making jam, etc, you're going to want something smaller than the Dutch oven that heats up a little faster. Note this isn't the pan I own: The pan I own i got used and actually would never pay the new price for.
Tramontina Stainless
4. Skillet Pan
Okay, so now we're expanding. This is what I would use to saute, to make paella, you can even bake a giant cookie in it--I do this all the time.
Lodge Classic Skillet
5. Cake Pan
This would be my next pick! It's easier to bake cakes in a cake pan rather than a cast iron pan. I actually make my brownies in cake pans, i like them better thicker, and other people seem to agree! You can also make banana bread in one, no problem.
Fat Daddio's 8 inch round (I prefer an 8 inch to a 9 inch, but most people use 9 inch and most recipes are written for 9 inch, FYI)
6. Ninja Everyday
Okay, JOKES. The next think I would buy is actually not a pan but a whole cooking system thing. It has a rice cooker, braiser, slow cooker, pasta cooker, oatmeal setting. Is it the BEST at any of these things? No. But it does a good enough job at all of them that I think it's a great choice over buying a slow cooker or rice cooker.
Ninja Everyday Possible Cooker
Secret 7th pan: 9 x 13 pan. For cornbread, sheet cake, lasagna, bake ziti. You can make do without it, but I'd like to have it.
PYREX (french import that is still made of borosilicate glass yes yes it's very annoying that you need to go through importers to find this and so it is spendy)
I hope this helps!
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◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ノ could you do female or non binary dating head canons of gwimbly thank you in advance (love your blog ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ)
I want your little guys,,,,,,,, your lil mojis……. Give them to me 🖐️(👁️_👁️)👊*bangs on glass*
Also it’s gonna be gender neutral terms w/ more feminine descriptions, if that makes sense ;33c
Gwimbly x fem reader dating headcanons
Gwimbly calls you shit like toots, sugar tits, baby doll/girl, they’re such sleazy nicknames but they also work VERY well for him
He tried doing the whole “chivalry” thing for like a month when you first started dating, calling you cute things and being a gentleman. It ended quick when he found it very very amusing to Dutch oven you
General menace to society, likes to wake you up in the middle of the night saying some fuck ass shit like “THEY HIT THE FUCKING PENTAGON/Ref” or “how much computer duster can someone huff before he needs to go to the hospital.”
Sometimes he just cusses at you to get your attention, it’ll be a string of “HE-HEY BITCH, FUCK BITCH, PUSSY” and you’ll be like “yeassss”. It’s never degrading, he’s just kinda like that
Argues with you a lot, if you can’t keep a level head it’s almost impossible to be w/ him. He’s extremely sensitive so anything can rlly set him off. You’ll have to constantly remind him that you still love him despite,,, everything
He can have pretty violent mood swings, so you’ll need to be calm and collected when navigating through these tough situations. It’s a mix of drug withdrawal and just general stress
You threatening to leave him though was a huge wake up call, he goes to anger management and tries to better himself. He’s still moody but he isn’t as much of a cunt as he was.
Very confrontational, if someone makes you uncomfortable for any reason he’s quick to call them out. Even unintentional people, they’ll still feel his anger.
Sometimes it’s a little embarrassing when someone just accidentally steps on your shoe and he just goes gun wild
He HATES seeing you sad. Usually for other ppl he doesn’t care, but seeing you sad makes him feel genuinely sick. He’ll try everything to make you happy again
#smiling friends#smiling friends headcanons#smiling friends x reader#smiling friends x reader headcanons#gwimbly#gwimbly x reader headcanons#gwimbly x reader#gwimbly headcanons#smiling friends gwimbly#smiling friends gwimbly x reader#smiling friends gwimbly x reader headcanons#smiling friends gwimbly headcanons
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Letter from Daendels to Valckanaer in 1804
Hii guys!! ✨️ As promised, I'll share another Daendels letter that I found on Mendels book abt him ☺️ This time, it's Daendels to his bestie, Valckenaer. I remember sharing a fragment of their letter before, this one is basically that but the full version 🫡 This was written during the time when Daendels became a farmer in 1804, Heerderdal 👀 I believe this was during his hiatus time from military
To Valckenaer, from Daendels Heerderdal, 2 August 1804 Friend, Since I cannot contribute a single ounce to the improvement of our Fatherland’s fate, I try to think about it as little as possible, so that my peace and happiness are not disturbed or taken away. I think even less about visiting camps and people, as my current occupations would not permit such pleasant diversions. However, I do hope that useful improvements in agriculture can be of some benefit to my fellow countrymen, and that this remains my only ambition. For example, to find fodder for these regions in summer, improve fertilization, and consequently increase the number of cattle and livestock, all by finding a short, sure, and easy way to cultivate wild lands and make a 20% return on investment—a goal that has proven ruinous for most entrepreneurs. I have set aside some land for this purpose, although I initially had to pay a kind of “tuition” to get started. I believe the return may increase beyond 20%, but I plan to lease it in time, retaining the forest for myself. The prospect of long-term returns promises a steady yield—witness the sown fields, 20 morgen (an old Dutch land measurement) of land sown with wheat and 50,000 seedlings in addition to planting 15,000 birch cuttings. I have already sown good corn, excellent clover, and potatoes over about 17 morgen, with 16 more morgen ready for winter sowing, and an additional 40 morgen to be put in order for spring. For the most part, I use clover, potatoes, and barley, and am experimenting with various crops, knowing that this land was never cultivated or fertilized. For winter, I hope to have the following livestock: 500 sheep, 100 head of cattle, and 25 pigs, along with 18 horses. In 1805, I aim to have 200 cattle and 200 sheep, about 4 or 500. Regarding our stone oven, which I share with my brother, I recommend it well to you, as it has produced excellent results. We recommend it especially to those in the Rhine regions, where the clay is wetter and harder, such as in the samples we had to present to the Rhine Commission. These were approved well enough, but didn’t hold up well due to lack of lime for the sluices at Sparendam. The result was that Haarlem honored us with a commission. On January 22 and June 12, I presented some papers, which you may find interesting. On January 22, I had some contacts with certain entrepreneurs, as I felt there was potential to resolve issues related to disputes with Noszeman and others. The situation was delicate, and my participation in a secret committee in Leiden, where deportation was mentioned, caused me some worry. I was especially alarmed to see that individuals from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had connections to these disruptive figures. I often met with Scheffer and others who, like me, disagreed with the policies pursued. They believed both extremes had gone too far, and I joined in this criticism. On May 4, I attended a gathering with like-minded people in Champigny. We agreed on our views and decided to act in concert if needed. I also discussed the matter with Spoors, Grasveld, Van Juchen, and Gogel. Respectfully, Daendels
I'm not going to ignore the fact that Daendels seemed so sad for thinking that he failed to help his country 😭 And even during this time when he became a farmer, he still want to help others even if it's only a little 😔 I love how Daendels yap alot to Valckanaer in here abt the whole farming stuff which makes me believe that Daendels does trust Valckanaer alot since he also rant abit abt his feeling on the beginning 🤭 I hope I can find more of their interaction in the future 😋 Anyways, that's all for now, I'm sorry if there is misinformation due to translation 🙏 Thank you guys n have a great day, stay safe 🌙
#daendels#napoleonic era#napoleonic wars#french#french history#napoleon’s marshals#dutch#dutch history#history#johan valckenaer#farmer#farm
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What Researchers Learned From the World’s Oldest Cookbook
A set of four cuneiform clay tablets unearthed in what was once Mesopotamia contain the etched ingredient lists for dozens of aromatic stews, pies, and soups. Three of the tablets date back as far as 4,000 years.
Part of the problem with reproducing these ancient recipes is that the tablets are mostly ingredient lists, typically sans further instructions. Presumably, the person writing them assumed that the reader would have sufficient culinary know-how to parse the shorthand. For a modern-day scientist, filling in the blanks requires some serious guesswork.
A vegetarian stew—inexplicably titled on a tablet as “Unwinding”—and a braised lamb stew with beets both turned out surprisingly well. The latter recipe incorporates both sour beer and tallow, both of which were commonly used ingredients at the time. “There’s blanks to fill in about how you would prepare and cook these things,” Skelly says. “But the mutton stew stood out as one that seemed more interpretable or familiar.”
Babylonian Lamb Stew recipe under the cut
Adapted from the Yale Peabody Museum
Prep time: 30 minutes
Cook time: 90 minutes
Total time: 120 minutes
4 servings
Ingredients
1/2 cup of chopped leek
2 cloves of garlic
1 pound of diced leg of mutton or lamb
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1 small onion, diced
1 teaspoon of ground cumin
1 cup of Persian shallots or spring onions, finely chopped
1 pound of fresh red beets, peeled and diced
1 cup of chopped arugula
1/2 cup of chopped fresh cilantro
1 cup of beer
1/2 cup of water
2 teaspoons of dry coriander seed
1/2 cup of finely chopped cilantro
1/2 cup of finely chopped kurrat (Egyptian leek), ramps, or wild leek
Instructions
Crush chopped leek and garlic together in a mortar to form a coarse paste. Set aside.
Heat the fat in a Dutch oven wide enough for the diced lamb to sit in one layer. Season the lamb all over with salt and sear on high heat until all moisture evaporates.
Add in the onion and sauté until translucent, but not yet brown. Add the Persian shallots and cumin.
Fold in red beet, arugula, and cilantro. Continue sautéing over medium-high heat until the greens are wilted and the mixture emits a pleasant aroma.
Pour in the beer and the water. Give the pot a light stir and bring to a boil.
Reduce heat and add in the crushed leek and garlic.
Let the stew simmer for about an hour, or until the sauce thickens and the lamb is tender.
While the stew simmers, pound the coriander seeds, kurrat, and cilantro together into a mortar to make a flavorful paste.
Ladle the stew into plates and sprinkle it with the kurrat paste. The dish can be served with steamed bulgur or flatbread.
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alternatively, i've also always found the idea of a "dutch oven" (which is basically the same as hotboxing) arousing. especially when it's treated like sth casual and not kinky for the parties involved but obviously the audience/ readers may get off on it.
there's this teen wolf fic on ao3 called "Good Books" (M/M tho) that drives me wild. imagine a dom/sub undertone between best friends that's barely even noticable where the "dom" uses farts as a non-sexual punishment for his "sub" and best friend. in my scenarios, i'd add some ass worship and the like.
you've told your friend you'd be there on time for a movie's premiere but end up missing the entry by a few minutes? then you'll be spending a feature length film under the covers with your nose in their clothed crack as they get to enjoy another movie while blowing viscious gas in your face.
you've promised to act as their chaperone and matchmaker when they wanna ask out a girl, but your advice actually backfires completely? well, guess who's gonna kiss and lick some booty tonight, seeing how you prevented your friend from their own booty call. they'll make sure to keep you practicing your kissing techniques on their wrinkly pucker while they sleep peacefully, knowing you'll be slaving away like it's your fulltime job even though they won't even be awake for it.
you've gotten into a big fight with them and now, all you want to do is make up? luckily, you're not above being subjected to the silent treatment as they ingest all sorts of food that make them gassy. as they sit on the couch with their thighs spread, still giving you the cold shoulder, you plant your face between their cheeks. to ensure you're close enough, they press your head even harder against their ass before covering you with a blanket and reclining with their phone in hand. their farts hit you point blank and soon, it reeks inside the humid space but you don't complain. you accept your punishment and don't hesitate to keep your face close to their butt even when they stand up and walk around, causing you to shuffle behind on all fours. in the end, you're forgiven and you place a conciliatory smooch on their ass and are greeted with an amiable, smelly toot in turn.
after all, holding others accountable is important, even amongst friends.
this is driving me so fucking wild it’s not even funny. like holyy shit🥵. the unspoken agreement too? pissing them off and with one look you know to get under their ass? and that you better get comfy because you’re about to be there for the next several hours😵💫. christ.. the possibilities.. them smothering your face with their barely clad ass bc u broke something of theirs; so it’s only fair you’re their new gaming chair for the rest of the night. arguing during a group hang-out and them saying they’ll drive you home - except it’s a four hour ride and you all just had taco bell, and you can hear their stomach gurgling🥴
also side note absolutely don’t mind whatever slash pairing anyone sends to me is! the situation is more than enough for me. also fuck.. beggars can’t be choosers
#what’s a little gas amongst friends?#asks#eprocto#eproctophilia#farting#fart kink#gassy girls#gassy guys
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Living with people who love to cook is so wild. You'll hear sentences like "dude getting a dutch oven would be such a game changer!"
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Get to know about me!
Name: [REDACTED] Pseudonym: Sydney Berkelaar
Age: 15/16 Pronouns/Gender: cis, female she/her Nationality: Dutch-Australian, mate. Language: English Australian, broken Indonesian, exactly one word in Dutch
Favs: Colour: Purple - dark sparlky - and green - light mint Food: Chips. SV chips, thins, deepfried, oven fried, crackers, don't care. Game (card/board): Dutch blitz Game (computer): Character AI + Minecraft
Things I enjoy/blog/whatever/fandom/shit Books: Rangers apprentice -> Brotherband Percy Jackson HoO -> ToA -> MCGA Fairytales for Wilde Girls Harry Potter -> especially Maruaders Countdown to countdown TV shows: Carmen Sandiago Annika Brokenwood BLUEY Hazbin Hotel Renegade Nell
Youtube stuff: 3rd life/last life/double life/hermitcraft/x life/empires 1+2 - grian, scott, katherine, gem, little bit of pearl CrazyCae, HollynRagland, Raine Emily
Musicals/music i enjoy: Alexander Hamilton The greatest showman Melanie Martinez Lauren spencer smith EPIC the musical Fat funny friend (this legit describes me, so.)
Ships!: PJO: Solangelo, Valgrace HP: Wolfstar, Moonwater (regulus x james) RA, BB: hill/whorace, stephan x jesper Mincraft series: scarian, scott x jimmy, gem x pearl, smalletho C2C: Lilliris HH: Radioapple, Huskerdust, Chaggie, Nifty x no-one
Blogs: @hadeslegacyhephgirl -> PJO: SOlangelo + Valgrace (soulmate au)
@hermitcraftshitpost -> hermitcraft/minecraft: scarian
@whiskers-the-ferret-octonaut -> octonauts: kwaso
@epicsfanshitposting -> Epics the musical: Odysseus x Polities
#hamilton the musical#hazbin hotel#hamilton musical#solangelo#nico di angelo#lilliris#will solace#valgrace#radioapple#huskerdust#wolfstar#moonwater#jegulus#regulus black#the marauders#marauders era#harry potter#crazycae#hollynragland#australian#dutch#dutch-australian#hill#whorace#scarian#minecraft#ra#rangers apprentice#bb
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Headcannon on Buggy relationship dynamics
Ok so at first he’s floundering, he’s so insecure. We know this. Its everywhere
However once he’s finally comfortable shit gets wild. Like when you finally fart comfortably around each other type domestic grossness
At first when you would come back or encounter each other after a hard day’s work all sweaty and gross he would very much tiptoe around it. If he’s gross he’s running for the room to shower before you get there to witness the sheer horror. If you are. He’s insisting you look dazzling all the gentlemanly stuff, nine yards…
No longer. His nickname for you?
“Stinky”
He goes in for a big sweaty hug when he’s gross and gets his hand wipes the face sweat and makeup. Its joining your face sweat. If you are living up to the nickname, crushing hug or tackle. He corners you and restrains you somehow and licks a stripe up the side of your gross sweaty face because gross and icky.
Your revenge? You made the Buggy Balls jokes. You wonder why he changed the name?? Because you spread the innuendos around the office. Not that nobody didn’t get the connection, just before you nobody else dared bring up the branding issue. He may have been more on board if by some miracle he had seen the easy joke when he named it or until you started. Hindsight an’ allat
Dutch ovens are a cannon event. For both parties. Try get one in in the morning and scurry off
Clammy hands? Your idea but popularised by him. Tricked him into a high five. He has to get the 5 before bed. Gloves make clammy hands. He will give you the mercy of washing hands and not shoving them in your face. But both of you do this
More maybe? Dunno, ill make another or something dont rush art
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hello friend.
for the non-us asks, can i pls ask (for whatever country you want/both): 4, 5 & 7?
Hi! Thanks you for sending these in :D
4. favourite dish specific for your country?
french: oh man there's so many fantastic french dishes, you make me choose one?? Ok I'm going to pick a classic but specifically my mom's version (my mom is dutch, does this make this fusion cuisine?) because it tastes like childhood and also it's so, so easy to make:
Tarte tatin! It's a caramelized apple cake. The fancy versions (see picture below) requires you to carefully arrange the apples and painstakingly flip the cake, but the lazy version is a lot easier.
My mom basically does it like this: - In a deep dish, arrange apple slices in circles until the dish is full. Sour apples are best. Make two layers, ideally the whole thing is slightly domed. You can add a few fresh rosemary needles to the apples if you want, but only a few! 5-7 should be plenty. - Drape dough of your choice on top - my mom usually uses store-bought laminated dough - making sure to cover the whole thing. Then poke some holes in the dough with a knife. You can arrange them in a circle for prettiness. - Pour a cup worth of melted butter and honey (50/50) on the whole thing, making sure to pour a generous amount into the holes in the dough so the apples are also soaked. - Push the whole thing into the oven at 180°C (with bottom heat!) for roughly half an hour, or until the dough is golden and flaky. - That's it! You can flip it but I don't bother, I just messily scoop apples and dough out of the dish. The honey and butter caramelizes and the whole dish is so, so tasty.
german: I really really really like a good Gulasch. Especially with wild meat like deer meat (Rehgulasch). I guess arguably it's not a dish specific to my country, since a whole lot of places make this too, but they're always a little different in every region. This one has mushrooms and juniper berries in it, and it's a perfect, hearty winter dish. Serve with potatoes or potato dumplings (Kartoffelknödel).
5. favourite song in your native language?
I'm so sorry neither of these are going to be even remotely comprehensible for non-native speakers. I always want to share obscure french new-wave music or german punk, but both of these rely heavily on people understanding the lyrics. They are funny because they are absurd, or crass, and very hard to translate. I guess that's part of the charm?
That said:
french: Le blues de Francoise - La Femme La Femme (the woman) is a French psych-punk band who does very floaty electronic music. Their lyrics tend to be really sarcastic and mean, the characters they play deeply unlikable, and the contrast to the peppy, spacey dance music is very funny to me. The lyrics of Le blues de Francoise (Francoise's blues) are about a woman named Francoise who is having a depressive episode following a break-up, and is told from the point of view of a "friend" who tells her "come on Francoise, get yourself together. I tell you this as a friend, you aren't pretty when you're crying". It's SO mean, and so many of their songs are like that x)
A lot of french alternative music is like this, imo. Just. Mean. Or plain absurd, french humor has a lot of absurdism to it.
german: Alt sein - Pisse Pisse (literally just: Piss) is a German punk band. They write songs about social inequality and deeply sarcastic and crass about it. Alt sein (to be old) is about being old and grumpy and slightly senile (or maybe just pretending to be to get away with theft). It's really hard to translate, it's a very German punk sentiment. Being really tired of the world turning, mad and impotent, doing small stupid things just to have any kind of impact on the world around you. All of their songs are kinda like that. I also really like Vernissage, ranting about the world of commercial art and how you have to kiss ass to make it anywhere, not having merit but just being the best at groveling.
7. three words from your native language that you like the most?
french:
cagouille: a regional word for snail! It's just a very cute and fun word. Cagouille! Doesn't it fit the animal perfectly? It's so round.
vistemboir: ok this is a made up word but it sounds so quintessentially french and I love it. A vistemboir is an object from a short story by Jaques Perret, titled Le Machin (the thing). It's a thingamabob, essentially.
oiseau: french word for bird, mainly famous for being five vowels and only one consonant (and a fricative, to boot). Isn't it perfectly shaped?
german:
Kreisverwaltungsreferat: look this one just cracks me up because it's so damn german. Google translates it as "district administration department" and yeah sounds about right. But look at it. It has to many letters. So many of them are consonants. Presposperous.
Rettich: Raddish. Look, it's the same one in english. But the german one has a 'ch' sound in it, which english doesn't have. Fun sound! And a little Rettich is a Radieschen. Look at it, it's got a diminutive and everything!
Schorle: Okay this one I'm adding mainly because a Schorle is a cool thing that seems to be fairly specific to Germany: It's fruit juice cut with sparkling water. Typically half and half. Depending on the type of juice you would add the name of the fruit in front. So Apfelschorle (with apple juice), Johannisbeerschorle (with red current juice), etc. You can get a Schorle in p much any restaurant, it's usually the cheapest non-alcoholic option, too. Refreshing!
#moth talks#ask#ask meme#french#german#spyld#I'm sorry i can talk about german punk for a long time#and none of it transfers to english dlkfldkfd#i love it though#thank you for the ask!
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Blueberry cobbler anyone?
Mike found a wild bunch of blueberries on the edge of the campground the other day. He picked quite a few and we have had blueberry pancakes a couple times. Yesterday he suggest we go pick a bunch more and make cobbler in the Dutch oven.
So today we went picking…I think Abby did more eating LOL. After dinner I made some dutch oven cobbler. It came out great!
Love campfire cooking!
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