#and also when charles dnf’d

[midnight-chevy]

Canadian gp overview :)

[adrienneleclerc]

Rumors

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: There have been rumors going around that Y/N is cheating on Charles 🫢

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, ANGST ending with fluff, very bad photoshop (I was working with what I had)

A/N: this is my first time writing angst so let’s see how I do.

Charles Leclerc DNF’d in the Canadian Grand Prix, he was so mad, he thought he could at least get some points, his engine was shit, the only thing he wanted to do was go home to his girlfriend. He decided to call her up on FaceTime. She answered after the second ring.

“Hey muñeco, what happened? I thought today was the GP, should you be racing?” Y/N asked, she was in line at the airport, getting ready to fly to Monaco.

“I’m out of the race, Mon ange.” Charles explained.

“Ay mi amor, i am so sorry to hear that. Listen, I’m at the airport right now, I’m going to Monaco, I’ll be in your apartment before you come back, okay? Then we can spend as much time together as you want.” Y/N said, knowing Charles will probably be very clingy after a terrible race.

“I’d like that. Have a safe flight, Mon coeur.” Charles said.

“Bye, mi vida.” Y/N said, sending him a kiss and Charles does the same before hanging up.

He was standing with the Ferrari team, looking at the monitors and viewing the rest of the race until Carlos also DNF’d. That just left him and Carlos talking until they were called for an interview when the race finished.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to go home.” Charles said, entering the driver’s room with Carlos. “When is our flight?”

“I don’t know, cabrón. Probably later tonight, I just want to get the fuck out of Montreal.” Carlos said.

“Same.” Charles groaned.

“Have you talked to Y/N?” Carlos asked, looking at his phone.

“Yeah, she’s getting on a flight to Monaco.” Charles said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because this is trending on Instagram.” Carlos said, showing Charles the Instagram post he found.

132,926 likes

f1WAGupdates the singer and girlfriend of Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N, has been seen with the Maxton Hall actor, Damian Hardung, at a restaurant in Manhattan. Is this why Y/N wasn’t seen at the Canadian GP? She’s too busy hooking up with Damian behind Charles’s back? Looks like she’s not as supportive as she says she is.

Carlos pulled the phone away from Charles’s face

“Let me see the comments, Carlos.” Charles demanded.

“No way, it will just drive you crazy.” Carlos said, hiding his phone.

“Fine, I’ll go to Instagram myself. Who the fuck is Damian Hardung?” Charles asked, he was pulling his phone out but Carlos took it from him and shoved it in his pants. Charles looked at him and then at Carlos’s pants. “Don’t make me search for it, Carlos.”

“I am helping you! If you read those comments, you are going to be antsy when we’re on the plane.” Carlos said and Charles rolled his eyes and left the driver’s room, making his way to Max and Lando who were talking, with Carlos following quickly behind him. “Don’t give him your phone!” Carlos yelled.

“Max, Lando, Can you check Instagram for me?” Charles asked.

“Don’t you have your own phone?” Lando asked.

“Carlos has it.” Charles said and that’s when Carlos appeared behind him. Charles had his arms spread out as if he was block Carlos from the other two drivers. “Just go to Instagram.” Charles said sharply.

“Don’t go to Instagram!” Carlos exclaimed.

“Okay, I’m on Instagram, what else?” Max asked,

“Is there a gossip post about Y/N L/N and Damian Hardung?” Charles asked.

“Are you stalking your girlfriend?” Lando asked.

“Don’t show him anything!” Carlos exclaimed, getting away from Charles and heading over to Lando.

“I found it! Charles, are you sure you want to see this?” Max asked.

“Just read me the comments.” Charles demanded.

“Don’t!” Carlos exclaimed.

“Okay… ‘i never trusted Y/N, she seemed very fake.’ Dude, I don’t know…” Max started but Charles cut him off.

“Give me that.” Charles said and he took Max’s phone to read the other comments. ‘I bet she has been cheating on him for months’ one said, ‘all those times when she wasn’t at a GP, I bet she was with him’ said another, but there was one comment that hurt him the most ‘Charles is so blind, it was clear that she never really loved him, she doesn’t even post about him’ “FUCK!” Charles screamed. He gave Max his phone back, shoving him a little in the process. “I need to go to Monaco now.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Carlos asked.

“Catch a rode with Max and Lando!” Charles yelled as we walked away, trying to find Fred.

“Why did you tell him?” Carlos asked the Dutch driver, hitting his arm in the process.

“How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to?” Max asked, playing dumb.

“I was literally shouting ‘Don’t tell him anything’ cabrón!” Carlos exclaimed.

“You know how max is, Carlos, he’ll do anything for Charles.” Lando teased Max, earning himself a slap on the arm.

Charles found Fred after asking a few Ferrari workers. “Fred, I need to go to Monaco now,”

“Is there an emergency, Charles?” Fred asked, very concerned with Charles’s state.

“Yes.” Charles said.

“Okay, I can have the plane ready in an hour, get Carlos, go to your hotel rooms and pack your things.” Fred said, already making plans with the pilot.

“Perfect, thank you!” Charles thanked him and walked back to Carlos, Max, and Lando, finding them arguing. “Carlos, let’s go, we need to pack.”

Y/N’s flight was 11 hours long and Charles’s flight is 8 hours so Charles made it to the apartment first. He unpacked his luggage and put away his clothes. He then made himself something to eat while he viewed that stupid Instagram post, reading the comments. It wasn’t until he heard Y/N’s keys that he realized he spent over an hour reading the comments. Y/N came in with her luggage and walked to the couch where Charles sat.

“Muñeco, what are you doing here, I thought your flight was tomorrow?” Y/N asked, getting closer to him to kiss his lips but he turned his head. Y/N leaned back a little. “What’s wrong, muñeco?”

“Nothing at all. I just have a question is all.” Charles stated. Y/N put her suitcases in Charles’s bedroom before she sat down on the matching loveseat.

“Sure Amor, ask away.” Y/N said.

“What were you doing in New York?” Charles asked.

“Oh well I visited my parents, they’re doing well, they asked when you were going to visit so maybe we could visit before going to Spain. I was recording my new album with Sony Records, I think it’s going to go do really well, but who knows.” Y/N said.

“And what else happened when you were in New York?” Charles asked, wanting her to tell him herself.

“Mmm, nothing really important, I met with some people from Amazon.” Y/N said. Charles had a straight face and pursed his lips in annoyance. “I’m sensing that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Of course that’s not what I wanted to hear!” Charles raised his voices getting off the couch and walked into the kitchen with Y/N walking behind him. “I want to know why the fuck You were out with this guy.” Charles said, turning around and showing Y/N the Instagram post. “Who the fuck is Damian Hardung?”

“Damian is an actor from Maxton Hall, you know that Amazon show that I’ve been obsessed with?” Y/N asked him while she got a soda from the fridge, charles nodded his head for her to continue. “Anyway, I met up with him and some people from Amazon because they were considering him and I as leads for their new movie.” Opening the soda bottle to take a sip.

“But you don’t act.” Charles said. Y/N rolled her eyes, closed the bottle, and put it on the counter,

“But I sent in an audition tape for Culpa Tuya and i guess they liked it and wanted me as a lead.” Y/N said.

“Really, that’s all that was?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a business dinner.” Y/N said.

“Then why is he looking at you like that? Why are you leaning against him like that?” Charles asked exasperated.

“Chemistry test, is that what you wanna hear? Why are you acting like this?” Y/N asked.

“Why am I acting like this? Let’s see, my car power unit was shit, it was my worst race of the season because I DNF’d, my top 4 streak is over, and to top it all off, my girlfriend was seen with another guy and everyone is talking about me!” Charles yelled and Y/N widened her eyes, she has never been yelled at before, her parents made sure to never fight in front of her or her siblings when she was growing up so the fact that he’s not yelling in front of her but actually yelling AT her.

“Why are you taking your anger out on me?” Y/N asked with tears in her me.

“Where are you when you’re not with me for the Grand Prix?” Charles asked. Y/N wiped her eyes.

“Charles, You’re being ridiculous.” Y/N said, trying to go to the living room but Charles blocked her. “Charles, no estoy jugando.”

“I’m not playing either, where are you?” Charles asked.

“I have a career outside of being your girlfriend you know! I’m not going to follow you around like a fucking puppy.” Y/N stated. “You understand that, right? I have interviews, photo shoots, live performances, I can’t go to every race. It never bothered you before, why is it bothering you now?”

“Why do you never post me on Instagram?” Charles asked.

“You’re insane.” Y/N stated.

“And you’re avoiding the question.” Charles said,

“What do you wanna do, Charles? You wanna track me? You wanna know my every move? You want me to post us on my Instagram and TikTok even when you said you didn’t want to risk me getting sent hate so we decided that I wouldn’t post anything?” Y/N asked rhetorically. “You’re acting as if I’d cheat on you.” Y/N jokingly said but when she saw Charles face. “No fucking way, you actually think I would cheat on you? Are you that insecure? Why the hell would you think that?”

“I’ve been reading the comments on the instagram post.” Charles said and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Why would you believe the comments? Let me tell you this one time and one time only, I am your girlfriend, okay? If you come across a freaking piece of chisme like that, TALK TO ME, don’t come accusing me of cheating on you when I literally have your logo as a tramp stamp…” Y/N said and Charles smirked at the mention of the tramp stamp, his favorite tattoo of hers. “Focus, you horndog. I love you, and only you. If I have to move in with you to prove that, I will. Wait, I got a better idea, come here.” Y/N said, pulling Charles in front of a mirror so she could take selfie of them.

Liked by charlesleclerc and 1,240,295 others

yourusername Charles and I have been dating for a year, he is the one I love. Though I love Damian Hardung in Maxton Hall, which is like my favorite show ever, I am in a very loving relationship. Damian is just a friend, he might be my future costar if I’m lucky. Why I’m not at races is no one’s business, I was present during Imola and Monaco, I am always home to celebrate with Charles and I love him dearly.

“There, it’s posted. Now you can stop worrying about us.” Y/N said.

“I’m sorry about everything, Mon ange.” Charles said.

“It’s fine muñeco. But yell at me again and I will shave your head in your sleep.” Y/N said with a serious look on her face.

“You wouldn’t shave my head, you love my hair, what are you going to tug on when I’m going down on you?” Charles asked with a smirk on his face and leaning into kiss her and Y/N just laughs.

“You really are a horndog aren’t you.” Y/N said but kissed him anyway. “But seriously, don’t yell at me again, I will stab you in your sleep.”

“Can you please stop threatening me, Mon ange?” Charles asked and Y/N just giggled and nodded. “Are you coming to Barcelona with me?” Charles asked.

“Of course I am! Are we going to New York next weekend?” Y/N asked.

“I’m sure I can arrange that, if not we can go after Spain.” Charles said.

“That sounds perfect. I will be posting more photos of us from now on, okay? So what did we learn today, mi muñequito celoso?”

“That I should talk to you before believing a gossip post about you.” Charles said.

“Good boy. Now…how do you want to take out your frustrations on yesterday’s Grand Prix?” Y/N asked, looking at him with siren eyes.

“Bedroom.” Charles said before he kisses Y/N, lifting her, making Y/N wrap her legs around his waist, and he carried her to his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I don’t really write angst, but I hope this turned out well 🤗

[sunrizef1]

Jackie and Wilson

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Warnings: mostly fluff, angst depending on how invested you get

Word count: 2.3k

Authors note: Jackie and Wilson by hozier btw, not proofread, also written at like 2 am

Charles wasn't having a great time. He'd just DNF’d out of his home race and now he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol at some random bar. He had to pretend to be happy though, considering he was surrounded by friends and coworkers who actually were having a great time.

However by this point, most of them were too drunk to even remember he was there. He was busy nursing a beer slowly, simply surveying the crowded bar.

He's moving to leave the place when suddenly his attentions caught by a loud laugh of someone entering the bar. He glances up, his eyes catching on you and his breath might actually stop for a moment.

You were beautiful. Your loud laugh echoed across the room toward him, entrancing him and pulling him in. You're smiling at the friend next to you and he's feeling the strange need to be the one you're smiling at.

He follows your figure as you make your way toward the bartop he's sat at, your friend walking away to talk to someone else. You come to a stop stood next to him and all he can do is stare like an idiot. Your attentions stuck on the bartender as you order and he waits impatiently for the moment you'll turn your gaze to him.

You order a martini and sit down at the stool next to him and Charles finally shakes himself out of his trance to stop the bartender before he can walk too far away, “Here, for her drink.”

The bartender takes the cash out of Charles’ hand and slides your card back over to you, knowing enough not to argue with Charles over this. You raise your eyebrows at the man next to you, tilting your head slightly at his confidence.

“You buy a lot of girls drinks?” you ask him, a slight laugh lacing your words.

Charles smiles in response, shaking his head lightly, “Not really, just had to do it for you.”

You blush, looking down at the floor abashedly. You look back up as the bartender hands you your drink and you take a sip in hopes of hiding your embarrassed expression.

“Do you live around here?” Charles asks, noting the abscense of his native accent.

“No, just visiting a friend,” you shake your head, taking a large sip of your drink, “Are you from here? Sounds like you might be.”

Charles quickly realizes you have no idea who he is and he leans toward slightly to keep the conversation going, “Yeah, born and raised here.”

You hum, taking yet another sip of your drink before setting it down with a clink. You turn even farther to your side to face him, “Is being incredibly hot a common trait in Monaco? Or is that just a you thing?”

He laughs, caught off guard at your boldness. His eyes trace your lips as you take another drink, almost reaching the bottom of your glass, “Do you wanna get out of here and find out?”

You bite your lip with a smile, glancing over to your friend before looking back at him, “I’d love to…”

He realizes your prompting for his name and quickly fills in the blank, “Charles.”

You perk up and stand from your chair, downing the last dredges of your drink, “I’d love to, Charles.”

Charles thinks he could listen to the sound of his name leaving your lips on repeat for forever.

“What’s your biggest fear?” Your melodic voice rings out in the silence of Charles’ room. He turns over in the bed to face you, eyes searching through the darkness of the room to try and find your eyes.

“I don’t like spiders, really,” He responds after a few moments of thinking. He watches as you glance toward the ceiling, thinking about his answer, “What about you?”

You look back toward him again, searching for a response, “Commitment, maybe.”

It’s not a particularly funny response but Charles still huffs a laugh, turning to pull you to his chest. You shift closer, eyes fluttering closed and head lying still against his skin.

Sleep comes easy for the both of you that night.

Charles’ eyes search his living room frantically, searching each surface thoroughly. He can hear the sound of your footsteps approaching as he moves the pillows around on the couch, tossing them toward the floor carelessly.

“What are you looking for?” You ask him, pulling on one of the many hoodies you had left at his house over your head from its position on the couch.

“My phone, can’t find it,” he replies absently, eyes not leaving the couch cushions. He can hear you approach him and suddenly your comforting hand is on his back. He looks up to see you stood quietly, holding his phone up in one hand.

He smiles down at you, grasping the phone from your fingers and pulling it away gently. But with the way you’re looking at him he seems to forget whatever important thing he had to do on his phone in the first place.

“Where was it?” He hums, eyes locked down on yours below him as he tosses the phone on the couch next to him.

“Left in in bed this morning,” you respond, smile curling up on your lips as you bring both of your hands between the two of you.

You push him back onto the couch and he wraps his hands around your waist to pull you with him. You wraps your arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Glad you found it,” he doesn’t seem particularly glad about it now, more interested in you on top of him.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you respond and he takes a deep breath at the pet name, fingers rubbing small circles on your waist from their position on your hips.

You reach a hand up and run your hand through his messy hair, leaving Charles to admire your face as you focus on his hair.

The sun filters through the window, hitting your profile just right and Charles can’t help the large grin forming on his face.

He didn’t know a better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, soothing the previous craziness he had started to feel.

“Oh my god I think I saw him!” Charles snaps his head toward your outstretched hand, finger pointing toward a man walking suspiciously down the sidewalk.

Charles eases his foot off the gas pedal of your Lexus, letting the car roll down the road slowly.

“Are you sure that’s him?” Charles asks, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see your friends boyfriend better.

Your friend had told you that she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her so here you and Charles were, riding around picking up clues. You had taken your Lexus since Charles’ car was way too identifiable.

“It’s definitely him, he’s got that giant stupid tattoo on his arm,” you reply, pulling out your phone to snap a few pictures of the man, “Can you follow him?”

Charles nods, turning the car slowly as the man turns a corner, making an attempt to move inconspicuously so the man doesn’t notice.

You start typing rapidly in your phone from the passengers seat, no doubt texting your friend who’s boyfriend you were currently following.

The two of you trail the man for a few blocks, watching as he suddenly walks into a restaurant on the corner.

“Park somewhere,” you call out, turning your head to watch him walk out to an outside table. Charles follows your order and parks the car strategically to where you can see his table through the front window of the car.

The man is alone when he sits down, not ordering anything and pulling out his phone to seemingly text someone.

It gets boring pretty quickly so you lean forward to connect your phone to the aux, deciding on some music to at least pass the time.

The opening notes of a Jackie Wilson song cut through the silence of the car and Charles glances toward the radio, completely unfamiliar with the song.

“What is this?” Charles asks over the sound of the American singers melodic voice. You look away from the man for a moment, a grin big on your face.

“Blues,” you laugh, bobbing along to the song. Charles laughs at your movements, watching as you dance happily, reveling in your joy.

The two of you let a few more songs play through, dancing around and laughing for the better part of an hour. Your attentions only diverted when you glance up and see a woman arriving at the man’s table.

You gasp, eyes widening as you pull your phone out of your pocket to snap a few pictures of the man and the woman at dinner in front of you.

“That dickhead!” you exclaim, turning down the volume of the radio in order to express your point.

Charles hums, eyes locked on the man and woman ahead, “He might not actually be cheating-”

Charles is interrupted by the couple sharing a kiss as the woman sits down and you and Charles lock eyes before bursting into laughter.

“I take it back,” Charles says as his laugh calms down, watching you pull your phone out for pictures once again. This time you catch a kiss and quickly send the picture off to your friend before sliding your phone away.

You seem content with your findings, choosing instead to turn your body and complain about the man you and Charles had been… stalking?

Charles smiles at the passionate look on your face as you defend your friend, putting the car in reverse to pull out of the parking lot.

As you drive home, Jackie Wilson blasts through the speakers, eventually causing the end to your rant as you start to sing along once again. Charles doesn’t know the music or even any of the lyrics but he does know that this is how he wishes to see you all the time, this happy.

When he envisioned your future together, a ring on your finger and two kids running around your house, he imagined you’d want to name them Jackie and Wilson and raise them on this music, rhythm and blues.

He might not be attached to the music or anything but watching how at peace you were made him think he’d grow attached to it pretty soon.

Charles loved racing, of course. But it was nice to escape sometimes. Escape from the stress and the pressures and the fears. Escape from the persistent fans and the expectant team. These days, that escape was you. You and your home in the middle of a field, black irises growing around the outside. Sunshine that shone perfectly down on the two of you as you lay side-by-side, hands intertwined between you.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Charles says, barely above a whisper as if he thought speaking too loud would make it all go away.

You hum, your free hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun as you turn your gaze toward him, a smile drifting onto your perfect features.

“I love you,” you state, proudly, as if it was a simple fact that everyone would know, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

Charles grins, head rolling to the side to lock eyes with you. You blush under his eyes and a small laugh escapes your lips, lips that he so badly wanted to kiss in that moment.

“I love you too,” He eventually responds, his free hand creeping through the grass beside him, fingers wrapping around an iris before gently pulling the flower out of the ground.

Your cheeks heat even hotter as he says the words, your hand moving to cover your face. Charles pulls your hand away, moving your face toward him as he does. He slides the flower over your ear, brushing away a lone strand of grass as he does. His hand doesn’t stray from your face though. Instead, it rests against your cheek, pulling you in gently for a kiss.

You let him pull you, free hand flowing up his arm and over his shoulder to run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to love someone the way he loves you in this moment.

Images of your future flash through his mind once again, every milestone being pictures with you by his side. Kids, marriage, hopefully a championship. He only wanted it if you were by his side.

Charles’ eyes snap open at the sound of his door opening, watching as you slip through it before closing it gently behind you. No doubt off to go back to that friend you had mentioned you were visiting earlier that night at the bar.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes that stay trained on his ceiling, thoughts running rampant through his sleep-addled brain. He slips out of the bed, moving to walk out on his balcony, hoping the fresh air will cool his heated face. He watches as your car moves away from the apartment, getting smaller and smaller as it moves down the road.

He doesn’t understand the sick feeling in his stomach as he watches you leave. He’d only known you for a few hours, the only thing he knew about you was your name and the fact you were leaving Monaco the next day. But he still felt like throwing up at the thought of a future between you that didn’t exist.

He eventually moves back into his room, trying his best to forget the random hook-up and fall back asleep. But as he moves to plug his phone in, he can’t help as he moves to play some music lowly through the device.

He finally gets his eyes to drift close, a Jackie Wilson song echoing quietly around the room.

—————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[nyoomfruits]

oscar dnf’d 😭😭😭 okay we need some lestapstri comfort fic now to cope 👩‍💻

you ask i deliver 🫡

Despite DNF’ing on only the second lap of the race, there’s a surprising amount of obligations Oscar needs to adhere to, which means he ends up leaving pretty much at the same time all the other drivers do. He’s just making his way through the paddock, waving at Alex and Logan as he goes, when he turns the corner, and nearly runs face first into-

“Charles,” he says, righting himself.

“Oscar,” Charles says, beaming. It’s clear he’s taken a shower, because his hair is damp and he smells like body wash rather than the sticky sweet scent of champagne. He’s wearing a lose Ferrari branded t-shirt, though not one of the obnoxiously red ones, and a pair of jeans, and there’s still that post-podium glow about him that he always gets, that happy little sparkle in his eyes.

If things would’ve gone differently for him today, Oscar would’ve taken his chances, would’ve crowded into Charles’s space, kissed him on the mouth, pressed him back into the motorhome behind him until Charles was moaning into Oscar’s mouth.

But with the way his race ended, he knows that’s not in the cards for him.

“We were just looking for you,” Charles says, and Max suddenly pops up behind him. He’s also freshly showered, and Oscar spends one grueling, self-flagellating moment wondering if they showered together, before deciding that way madness lies and banishing the thought from his brain.

“You, uh, why?” Oscar asks. To pity him, probably. Charles will tell him there’s always next race. Max will give him a play by play of what went wrong and how he can do better next time. And then they will say their goodbyes and go back to their hotel room to-

To fuck.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Charles asks. “I thought, since the last few races..” He trails off then, sending Oscar a confused look.

Right, last few races. When Oscar made it into the points. When Oscar was actually, you know. A worthy opponent. Was actually worthy of them.

But he knows how it works, in the racing world. Being invited into someone’s bed is a privilege, something that only happens when you’re performing. So when you’re not-

“I didn’t finish in the points today,” he says, “I didn’t even finish at all. I DNF’d.” He doesn’t understand why he has to explain this to them. Charles is Carlos’s teammate, for fucks sake. He should definitely know what happened.

“No, we know that,” Charles says. Behind him, Max is frowning. “If you want some alone time, that’s fine, we can-“

Max interrupts him, suddenly. “Oscar,” he says, voice even, careful. “Did you think we were only sleeping with you because you were scoring points?”

Oscar pulls a face. “Well…” He says. It had started in Silverstone, after all. They’d approached him after, kept telling him how well he did, and then when he’d landed in their bed, it had felt like a dream come true.

A dream he ended up dreaming again at the next race, when he once again finished in the points. And then yesterday, when he’d gotten a Sprint podium. So yeah, he did think it was about that, if he’s honest.

Charles and Max look absolutely horrified. Charles actually has a hand on his heart, and Max looks both shocked and slightly murderous.

Okay, so. Maybe not then.

“Oscar, no,” Charles says, reaching forward, tentatively touching Oscar’s chest, his shoulders. “We. We like you. We like having you with us. We were,” he glances back at Max, who nods. “We were actually going to ask you to spend some time with us, over the summer break. See if we could turn this into a more. Well, permanent thing.”

“We want to date you,” Max clarified.

“Oh,” Oscar says, suddenly feeling a little small, and a little stupid, and a lot overwhelmed. “Oh. Oh, that’s. Uh. I would like that, yes.” He says, voice quiet. It feels like a dream, still somehow. Max reaches out, squeezes his shoulder, and Oscar sways into the touch.

“Great!” Charles says, beaming. “Fantastic! Can we get going now then? You know how horny podiums make me.” He gives Oscar a sultry look and then sends a mischievous one to Max over his shoulder.

Max rolls his eyes as Charles starts practically skipping away. “He’s not wrong, you know. He does get very horny.” He reaches out his hand.

Oscar takes it. “Good to know,” he says, and then follows after Max and Charles.

[arieslost]

hi aries!! been a while since i've seen you on my feed so thought i'd just ask how are you, how are you feeling about this weekend, the triple header etc

unfortunately it has not been kind to my drivers at all :( lewis at the back in the usa, then oscar at the back in mexico so i'm hoping that all goes well for charles because he's the last one that hasn't fallen victim yet to an awful quali 😭

omg hi anon!!! i’ve missed talking to everyone so this message made my day!!!

i’m doing okay, trying my best to get back into the writing groove because i’ve had the WORST writer’s block for months now and i want to get back to posting 😭

so far things have been better than worse for me during this triple header— charles leading a 1-2 and winning in austin and then our 1-3 last weekend (that should’ve been another 1-2 but i digress) was amazing as well.

i have to be honest, i am low key dreading this weekend. we’re at that point in the season where every single point REALLY counts, and now that ferrari has moved into second place in the WCC and charles is still in contention for the WDC (so long as he scores a certain amount of points in every race) i’m beyond stressed. especially because last i checked the weather isn’t looking too great and i’m having flashbacks to our double DNF in canada 😫

i couldn’t believe what happened to lewis in austin!!! my jaw literally dropped when he DNF’d. and oscar’s Q1 exit had me SHOCKED, but at this point he’s in a completely different car than lando because he has yet to receive the upgrades. that and he was a victim of track limits 💔 he might be getting them this weekend though so we’ll see what happens!

i too am hoping for fantastic results for charles (and ferrari) because that’s my ride or die fr. i’m also hoping for another great performance from franco; he has truly entranced me in the short time he’s been on the grid and now i fear i’m in love with him.

regardless of what happens, i will be watching everything with my heart in my throat 😍😍

[creabirds]

also non fic related, what were your thoughts on singapore?? i heard “they’re going to sacrifice leclerc” and died a little inside.✨

oh yes def. i was whining and pouting the whole time after charles’ long pit stop during safety car bc they told him to back up too much 🙃 i’m glad he at least made up a position when george dnf’d but honestlyyyy i hated every second of it

[screamsinsilver]

Max is feeling mopey because his travel plans fell through. Lando’s feeling mopey because he’s sick, he DNF’d, and he didn’t get to see Max on his birthday. Max flies out to Abu Dhabi to surprise him when he lands.

ooh! okay!

fic beneath the cut!

lando knows it's selfish to want to spend a day in the uk before abu dhabi, knows it's unlikely for the team to shoehorn something so irrelevant in before the last race of the season, a 15 hour flight seperating the locations of that final double header. he knows it'll be a nightmare for logistics but perhaps some max time can help him feel slightly more human so he's at least a little more prepared for the time changes and climate changes and cuisine changes from latin america to the middle east.

the last few days have been exhausting for him, even slightly painful at times, from his stomach attempting to evict whatever's inside - even if it's just water - from whatever means available, to the tiny impact of the crash with charles, to the pain of retiring in the midst of the battle with alpine.

he needs a break.

one now, before this last race.

and even though he knows it's entirely possible, he doesn't ask. he just trudges along behind the wave of papaya onto the direct flight to the emirates.

fifteen hours is a long time to be stuck in a cabin with the same faces, daniel's grin absent when lando does consider killing time with some conversation, scaring him away from the aussie. he resorts to his phone, more than willing to pay for internet connectivity flying over the atlantic, opens the group chat for the first time this weekend.

he can't really tell who started the conversation (tom, probably) but it's hit something in max, a waterfall of whatsapp messages from his man cascading meters down the screen. he's upset. lando can tell that much. he's also bored, annoyed at theo, missing lala.

it looks like he's in one of his moods, where he usually goes straight to lando demanding to be held and comforted and spoken to, something to ground him from the hurricane in his brain, only this time lando's on a different part of the planet, far and unavailable, too busy for max to distract.

as if max is a distraction to him.

lando doesn't really know what to do now. he's past the uk, and there's no way the team would let him take the seven hour flight from the uae after they land. he looks at flights for max, but what if he doesn't even want to come? he's already spoken about how much he hates the constant reminder that his dreams of racing are over, how he can only get back behind a wheel for content creating.

sometimes all he needs with max is better communication. which is bullshit becuase he's the only one he actually communicates with anyway.

so he sits, alone, in a slump, hoping that there is another way to get through the next week alone.

as it turns out, he doesn't have to.

landing at the airport, he's very sure he's seeing things, like a man just smaller than he is, bundled up in lando's own sweats (in the dubai heat, really?), a smile breaking out on his beardless face.

"idiot." lando smiles into the crook of max's neck, breathing in his so familiar scent, max's arms finding their way into the grooves of lando's body where they belong.

somehow, lando feels as if this has changed max slightly, too, a long sigh let out from the depths of his lungs and thoughts, finally finding peace.

[russilton]

Another year of Ferrari chaos, the only good thing they have is their drivers and the car. It was funny watching Carlos fighting against the strategists in silver stone bc they were making such stupid calls. The pit crew is also very slow. Honestly they need a complete overhaul of the team except for the drivers and engineers.

They have like, ONE good driver when you combine their skills, Anon, let’s be real, and their engineers? How many times did they DNF this year?

I’m not a ferrari fan so this opinion shouldn’t shock you. I’ve spoken at length how Charles has the talent but his lack of confidence is why we’ve seen so few wins from him this year.

And Carlos may have the confidence to call out his team but he was out driven almost consistently by Merc and half the year our boys were driving a wheelbarrow. If Lewis hadn’t DNF’d Carlos would have finished Sixth in the drivers championship. In Brazil both Carlos and Perez should have been able to pass Mercedes, they were in better cars, and yet…

Not to mention Carlos blaming George and the wind for half of his problems rather than admit fault. I can’t say I’m a fan and we been knew.

Binotto is like the tip of a hollow iceberg

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[sophielovesbooks]

Sophie’s Dark Academia Rec List

In honour of my favourite genre, have a very personal, very subjective recommendations list!

-        The Secret History (Donna Tartt)

The obvious choice, a classic. In my personal opinion, it’s not perfect and there are better dark academia books out there, but it has massively shaped the genre and therefore deserves recognition. Also, the aesthetic is on point! Read if you want to get a feel for the genre or if you’re simply curious.

-        If We Were Villains (M. L. Rio)

Basically a newer, better The Secret History?? Plenty of similarities, minus certain problematic bits that were present in TSH. Amazing prose, incredible characters, absolutely worth the read. A prime example of dark academia! Read if you love Shakespeare and college settings and compelling characters and drama and just beautiful writing!

-        Black Chalk (Christopher J. Yates)

Also a fairly good example of the genre, but tragically underhyped. Darker than, for example, If We Were Villains. Set at Oxford! Will mess with your head. The characters are not necessarily likeable, but interesting. The writing is fairly complex. Read for a dark academia thriller which takes the unreliable narrator to an impressive new extreme (in a good way!)

-        Truly Devious (Maureen Johnson)

A rare YA dark academia book! Read for murder and mystery and a beautiful boarding school setting as well as a really likeable main character! Due to its nature less dark and somewhat less mature than most of the other books on this list, but if you’re looking for more of a quick and fun dark academia read, this is the one for you!

In a similar vain: The Vanishing Stair (Maureen Johnson)

Cannot actually vouch for this as I haven’t read it yet, but it’s the sequel to Truly Devious and I have heard good things.

-        The Secret Place (Tana French)

MASSIVELY underappreciated dark academia with (gasp) supernatural elements?! The most beautiful prose and funniest dialogue you will ever see. Incredible characters. Again, amazing boarding school setting and close group of female friends! (They will break your heart). Also murder. Also half of the story being told from a detective’s PoV. Read if you value good literature. Just. Read it.

-        The Likeness (Tana French)

Actually, maybe I was kidding before, maybe this book is the most underappreciated dark academia book out there? Either way, it’s my favourite. Within dark academia and within ALL OF THE BOOKS. This is it. The perfect novel. Characters that own my hearts to this day. Writing so beautiful that it had me sobbing uncontrollably on several occasions. The university it is set in is Trinity College Dublin. (Cue me being bitter that I don’t go there every single day for the rest of my life.) Very intriguing mystery, too. Hilarious dialogue. All the emotions. All the heartbreak. Just… I love it so much, okay? <3

-        The Lying Game (Ruth Ware)

Good, very good. Set in a boarding school near the ocean, but unfortunately, only the past tense story line is and we don’t get to see too much of it. Very interesting characters. Much heavier on the dark than the academia. Read if you’re looking for more of a classic murder mystery/thriller and are not too focussed on the academia. Also read for an interesting group of female friends.

-        The Basic Eight (Daniel Handler)

Very promising, but wasn’t my cup of tea at all. The setting is an American High School on the West Coast. The murder isn’t that much of a mystery. I’m mentioning it here because I know that other people love this book, even though I really didn’t. I would say don’t read, but see for yourself, I suppose.

-        The Lessons (Naomi Alderman)

Yes, okay, an interesting one. Set at Oxford, which was amazing. Interesting characters with interesting dynamics. I read it quickly and was quite entertained. But there were certain problematic bits (regarding LGBTQ+ representation and mental illness), so you’ve been warned. Not my fave, but I mostly enjoyed it while reading it.

 There are a few more dark academia books on my shelves, which I unfortunately cannot include on this list, as I haven’t read them yet. One of them is “The Lake of Dead Languages” by Carol Goodman. Another is “Brideshead Revisited” by Evelyn Waugh. Might edit this post later to add these and more. xx

UPDATE!! (With slightly longer descriptions this time, because people are actually reading this? Reblogging even? Wow!) 

-        The Lake of Dead Languages (Carol Goodman)

THE ALL-FEMALE DARK ACADEMIA NOVEL WE ALL NEED AND DESERVE…?? The setting is A++. An all-female boarding school in the Adirondack Mountains in New York! There is a lake that features so heavily in the story, it basically counts as a main character. Told from the PoV of a teacher who used to go to the school. There are two close groups of female friends, one in the present timeline, one in the past. Both have dark, dark secrets and both fit the dark academia genre so well! Also, heavy focus on Latin rather than Ancient Greek, which I have all the love for. This one is a gem, so give it a chance!

-        Brideshead Revisited (Evelyn Waugh)

An actual classic, as in… first published in 1945. And it reads like it. The beginning came with beautiful vibes! Our young boy Charles starting his time at Oxford, meeting a lot of pretentious people, including one Lord Sebastian Flyte, who Charles is suspiciously fascinated by. Sebastian is the biggest dork to ever dork, carries around with him an actual teddy bear named Aloysius, the absolute madmen?? But it’s all downhill from there, with alcoholism and war and depressing times… And Oxford only really features in the first half or less.

-        People Like Us (Dana Mele)

Another rare YA dark academia!! Features a group of Mean Girls who one day, when out at night to go swimming, find one of their classmates floating dead in the lake. Which is an excellent dark academia set-up, let’s be honest. Also, sapphic girls, incredible sapphic girls with really complex relationships! Bi main character! A fun and quick read, much like “Truly Devious”. More descriptions of the beautiful boarding school buildings would have been welcome, but at least we got a few! Anyway, go forth and enjoy this little beauty.

-        Party Girls Die in Pearls (Plum Sykes)

Umm… I barely even comprehend this book’s existence? Has a prime dark academia set-up with a murdered girl in Oxford, but I still somehow DNF’d it after about 20 pages?! The main character’s name is Ursula Flowerbutton, and if you think that’s quirky and funny… good for you, you might actually enjoy this book. But you’ll also have to endure descriptions of clothes, oh, so many descriptions of clothes! And for anything unique to Oxford that might make the book fun because only those who know will know… you’ll get a footnote. So actually, everyone will know, with zero effort. Definitely not for me, but if you want to read a glossy magazine style dark academia, knock yourself out, friend!

-        The Night Climbers (Ivo Stourton)

Breath-taking! A piece of beauty! Set at Cambridge (and the campus features heavily!), a main character reminiscent of Richard Papen, an intriguing group of new friends that he would do anything to belong with. Including… climbing the buildings of Cambridge at night? Without proper equipment, just with his hands and feet?? Honestly, out of the books on this list, this one is the closest in style and maturity and characterisation to The Secret History! The writing is absolutely gorgeous, the plot fascinating. And it’s dark academia that features a non-violent crime, which works surprisingly well. All in all: A STUNNER THAT FANS OF THE SECRET HISTORY SHOULD CHECK OUT!!

-        As I Descended (Robyn Talley)

A queer, sapphic Macbeth retelling?? Also a rare YA dark academia with strong supernatural elements?! The representation is on point, with two hispanic main characters, wlw, mlm and one of the girls in the main couple being disabled! The boarding school setting is also on point (and uniquely different as the school building is actually a former plantation in Virginia). This book is so different and so spooky! It wasn’t perfect and some say the retelling didn’t work 100% (I, personally, felt that the plot slowed down a bit), but the atmosphere is amazing and the characters are pretty cool, too!

Not to worry, my quest to find and read as many DA books as possible isn’t over. So this list might be updates again some time in the future! :)

[akisazame]

Book meme: 12, 17, 24

12. Any books that disappointed you?

Kingsbane by Claire Legrand... the concept of the series was so intriguing (time travel! fated prophecies! the person everyone thought was Light was actually Darkness!) but this second book just slogged on and on and on while very little actually happened. I only managed to not DNF it out of sheer stubbornness. (I also can’t believe I only read this one this year... 2020 back at it again)

17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?

I feel like with most of the books I read, the expectation matched the reality... maybe Band Sinister by KJ Charles. usually I’ll pick up a KJ Charles book when I’m in the mood for a lighthearted romp and Band Sinister is exactly that, but something about the setting and the characters and the plot all came together to be immensely pleasing to me, more so than her books have been in the past.

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

okay listen... I haven’t DNF’d Midnight Sun. after however many years since the original manuscript leaked on LiveJournal, I need closure. but it’s so criminally boring I had to set it aside to read something else and just haven’t gotten back to it yet. 2021 is The Year Of Finishing Midnight Sun Or God Help Me.

(end-of-year book asks)

[willreadforbooze]

Hello!

BIG NEWS PEOPLE! Our Will Read For Booze twitter account (formerly Sam’s personal account) is going to be dedicated to the whole blog! So go check us out kthxxxx. While that’s amazing, Sam has to start from scratch on a new account, let’s show her some love huh? Check out her new account TheBooktender_  She’ll love you forever and ever.

Minda’s Updates

Goal for the rest of this year is to only read books I think I would enjoy and continue to be into. Working through something I don’t care for is just exhausting, and pregnancy is enough of that.

What Minda is reading now:

The Power by Naomi Alderman – In this world, teen women have the power to inflict pain—lots of it. I read a description of the book somewhere and picked it up from the library immediately. Looking to finish this then pivot to Tome Topple this weekend.

What Minda DNF’d:

HEIST by Kezzy Sparks – I FINALLY GAVE UP ON THIS THANK GOODNESS. I really tried to read it, but I can’t. It’s just basically one long poorly handled dick joke that isn’t very funny. And used the line, “guys will be guys, you know that.” Um, no.

Ginny’s Updates:

Hey Everyone!

The Nationals won the WORLD SERIES!!!!! I’m still ridiculously excited. Sam and I went to the parade and it was GREAT! Also that’s a lot of exclamation marks and caps, so back to normal. I’m so excited to get my evenings back and get to a normal sleeping schedule. So pumped.

What Ginny’s currently reading:

Lady Cop Makes Trouble by Amy Stewart: I read the first book in this series a forever ago and final decided to pick up the sequel. Constance is yet again dealing with the misogyny of the era, which is not great. But a convict escapes during a blackout and it’s kind of her fault. So she’s off on her own trying to find him. I find myself still really frustrated with her “sisters.” But really enjoy the other characters that appear in this book.

Wicked Fox by Kay Cho: Gonna be honest, I haven’t picked up this book since last week. There’s been so much going on and my evenings haven’t been quite my own.

Scrum by Jeff Sutherland: Same as above. Haven’t even touched this.

What Ginny finished:

Blaze of Memory by Nalini Singh: This if the 7th book in the Psy-Changeling series. And hoo boy was this one not my jam. There was some major abuse vibes coming off of this book mostly in that the main character seemed to be taking advantage of a woman with amnesia. That’s shitty. Also the descriptions that work really well for a Changeling feel very weird when it’s a human expressing them. 1.8/5

Chimes at Midnight by Seanan McGuire: Number 7 in the Toby Daye series. God this series just keeps getting better. Toby may have pissed off the queen of the land she lives in and suddenly has to race against a deadline to try to make sure she doesn’t get exiled. Gonna be a review.

Any Old Diamonds by K.J. Charles: I’ve heard so much about this author from the other authors I follow and boy was it a good recommendation to follow. The story was unique and fun and had a few genuinely unexpected twists. Alec is trying to get revenge on his shitty Dad and uses thief Jerry to get it. They immediately have tension which rackets up nicely. 4/5

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Siilvia Moreno-Garcia: I read this for book club. The book has the feeling of a Hades-Persephone story but surrounded by early 1900’s Mexico. Which is pretty glorious. I felt the book could be a little flat, but as we discussed in book club, that’s kind of how lore just is. 3.5/5

Bonds of Justice by Nalini Singh: This is the 8th book in the Psy-Changeling series and I’m kind of glad I read it immediately after the previous one because this was so much better! This is a true detective story with a relationship that sizzles and doesn’t seem abusive. Max Shannon, a cop, and Sophia Russo, a J-Psy who can copy and share memories, are on the hunt for a killer. This book was just crazy fun with plenty of chemistry. 5/5

Sam’s Updates

THE NATS WON THE WORLD SERIES!!! We watched it all, the ups, the downs, and the mightiest of wins. Ginny and I went to the parade which was amazing (and cold), I also took my first mental health day in 6 months and it was amazing…

What Sam read this week:

Wild Beauty by Anna-Marie McLemore: So this is a story of a family that always has 5 girls, 5 cousins. The men that spawn these women disappear, so it’s always the women. 5 ladies, 5 mothers, 5 Grandmas (abuelas), when suddenly a boy appears. He has no memories. The ending of this wasn’t predictable at all, but I really really liked it. It’s a story of love and loss and joy and pain and HISTORY. How the land remembers the horrors that were inflicted on it. I really liked it. 3.5/5

Girls of Storm and Shadow by Natasha Ngan: This is the sequel to Girls of Paper and Fire which i didn’t…. love… but also didn’t hate. Welp, I was right, tons of miscommunication between relationships, which I hated. But there were a couple new characters who I ah-dored. Will be doing a full drunk review of this one.

What Sam DNF’d

Epoca: The Tree of Ecrof by Kobe Bryant (creator) and Ivy Claire (written by): Yeah, you read that right. Kobe Bryant created this story. While at BookCon this year, we came across this small publishing house he created. Apparently, he loves making stories but doesn’t have time to write them out in full, so he builds the world, names the characters, plots it out, and hands it off to his author of choice to finish it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get into this one. BUT DONT FRET! It’s not that it wasn’t good, it just wasnt for me. In this story, the magic is sports magic, which is cool. The characters seem like they’ll be fun, but while I love sports, I don’t love them this much.

What Sam’s currently reading:

The Kingdom of Gods by N.K. Jemisin: This is the final installment to the Inheritance trilogy. Seems to be about Sia. Listening on audio so we’ll see how it goes.

Ashlords by Scott Reitgen: This is Scott’s next series after Nyxia and I am READY for it. I’m really early on, but basically, it’s fire horse racing. FIRE. HORSE. RACING. I cannot fuckin wait.

  Linz’s Updates

What Linz read:

Middlegame by Seanan McGuire: I don’t even know how to describe what I just read but it was real weird and real good and I am very happy I took a break from assigned reading to pick this up

Queen of Ruin by Tracy Banghart: The second half of the Grace and Fury duology. Spoiler alert, THOROUGHLY satisfying.

What Linz is currently reading:

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo: My diligent stalking of the digital library sites have paid off; I recommended it at the right time and was like #2 on the waitlist. Bardugo’s first novel for the grown and sexy is REAL dark, part..ghost story? and part many mysteries? and I am HERE FOR IT.

House of Salt and Sorrow by Erin Craig: The problem with working from home sometimes is that my office is where my books live, and the pretty copy from Owlcrate kept staring at me. This VERY much reimagining of the 12 dancing princesses is kinda weird and also dark and also I am enjoying it. If I didn’t have 15 other things going on, I probably would have tried to finish this over the weekend.

Until next time, we main forever drunkenly yours,

Sam, Ginny, Linz, and Minda

Weekly Wrap Up: Oct 28 – Nov 3, 2019 Hello! BIG NEWS PEOPLE! Our Will Read For Booze twitter account (formerly Sam's personal account) is going to be dedicated to the whole blog!

[randomsofmine]

February Wrap Up 2017

Given how busy and stressful February has been, I’m surprised that I was able to read any books.Sometimes when I’m stressed or really exhausted, I can’t read.My brain refuses to pick up a book so there were a few days this month where I read nothing. I managed to read 12 books, finished 1 book started in January, DNF’d 1 book and started another book to carry over into March (The Two Towers as part of my Tolkien re-read). In total I read 4293 pages which included:

8 audiobooks

3 ebooks

4 paperbacks

Everybody's Jane: Austen in the Popular Imagination by Juliette Wells The was a look at how people read and engage with Jane Austens work. It covers the differences between academic readers and personal readers. I found it very interesting and got some ideas for future things to read. There were some dry bits and the first chapter was a challenge. I’d recommend this for die-hard Austen fans and those who are used to reading academic papers. 3.5/5

The Fellowship of the Ring (The Lord of The Rings, book 1) by J.R.R.Tolkien Continuing my re-read of Tolkien's works is still a joy and a great way to end my day. I loved meeting favorite characters again. The first part does take a bit to get into and the adventure takes about 4 or 5 chapters to really begin but Tolkien's writing is just beautiful. 5/5

The Dead Travel Fast by Deanna Raybourn Possibly one of my favorite authors for life. I find her writing just pure comfort. This is one of her few stand alone novels. Its a take on the Gothic novel.Its not my favorite of her works but it is really enjoyable and dark and will possibly make you fall in love with Transylvania. 4/5

We Should All Be Feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie This is a paper version of the authors TedTalk. Its engaging and though provoking and her examples will make you sad, angry and hopeful for a better future. I would recommend this as a gateway into reading about feminism. Its very approachable and short. 4/5

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens I feel like my library card should be burned in front of me. I DNF’d a classic. A Charles Dickens book.I just couldn’t get into it.I probably read the first 40% and I just got bored and kept trying to remember the musical.I possibly may try again at some point but for now I’m taking a break from Dickens.

The Invisible Library (The Invisible Library, book 1) by Genevieve Cogman This book reminded me a lot of Jodi Taylor's series The Chronicles of St Mary’s but less quirky. I did feel that I had missed something as it drops you straight into the story so more at the beginning about the Library and the main character would have been nice. It was very interesting and I will be picking up the rest of the series. 3/5

The Kingmaker Chronicles by Amanda Bouchet

A Promise of Fire, book 1 3.75/5

Breathe of Fire, book 2  3.75/5

A New Adult fantasy series. I’m gonna start this off by saying its not perfect. Far from it. But I really enjoyed it. It was fun and full of banter (I wanna be friends with Beta Team!) and adventure and Greek mythology. I read the first one in a couple of days. The second one took  a bit longer thanks to delivery issues and stress. I do honestly recommend this series and cannot wait for the third book. But you need to bear in mind, there maybe issues. The main female character is a bit of a Mary Sue and can be very wishy-washy about her decisions. The main male character is a pure alpha male, who can be high-handed and arrogant. The dialogue sometimes comes off as too contemporary (its set in Ancient Greece). I didn’t realize at the beginning this involved the Greek Gods, so it could have done with some explanatory world building to start off with.Also there is a bit of sexy times, which isn’t overly graphic but it did make me blush to read it on public transport. But I will be getting the third book.

The Fifth Elephant (Discworld, book 24) by Terry Pratchett After Death and The Witches, my favorite set of  Discworld characters is The Night Watch crew. They are bonkers and terrible policemen but led by the brilliant Sam Vines and Corporal Carrot, they always get the job done. This was also a take on the Gothic novel but with Dwarves. 5/5

The Bridgertons by Julia Quinn

The Duke and I, book 1 3.5/5

The Duke and I: The Epilogue ||, book 1.5 3/5

Historical romance fun. Need I say more. These are prefect distractions and remedies for stressful periods. I enjoy Julia Quinn’s writing very much.

The Sum of All Kisses (Smythe-Smith Quartet, book 3) by Julia Quinn I’m going to be very lazy. Please see above review. 4/5

Romancing the Inventor (Supernatural Society) by Gail Carriger Another one of my favorite authors for life. This short novella dips its toe back into the Parasol Protectorate world and looks at the life and romance of one of its lesser main characters. A fun read and a nice addition to the World. 3.5/5

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: The Primary Phase (Hitchhiker's Guide: Radio Play, #1) by Douglas Adams Technically not a book, more of an adaptation of a book, but I’m including it because it came from Audible. Hitchhikers Guide is fun and zany and full of bonkers adventures. This combines book 1 and 2 in the series. 3.5/5