#hamilton london cast

[thelittlecoughsomewhere]

Bad news for my savings account: I found out that live theatre makes me happy and giddy like a little kid.

[sunrizef1]

Snowman

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: lol im alive | Based on Snowman by Sia

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: A Christmas gala with Lewis

The soft sounds of classical instruments float through the lavish ballroom, adding a soundtrack to the vision of beautiful people wandering around the room. Holly leaves and shining crystals decorate the walls, shining brightly above and adding a festive cheer to the atmosphere. There’s a towering Christmas tree against one of the walls, decorated with large baubles and seemingly endless strands of shimmering garland. The ceiling is high, various chandeliers hanging above the party, casting warm, glowing light on the party way down below. 

There's a dance floor in the middle, couples waltzing gracefully around it as the seasonally appropriate music guides their moves. There's enough people at this party where, if one couple exits the floor, there’s another one quick to take their place. Especially the older couples. They love a good slow dance. 

Waiters gravitate around the room, looking the very picture of poise as they balance their platters. If the slowly increasing cheeriness in the room was anything to go on, it was obvious exactly what genre of drink was being served on said platters. 

Flawless people in flawless dress congregate on the edges of the room, conversations ranging from strictly business to the genius of whoever had chosen the decorations for the night. 

It was a charity gala, this much was obvious. Whether it be the fact that the age demographic was on the higher end of the spectrum, and therefore so was the wealth, or the sounds of rich laughs echoing about, punctuated by the bragging of philanthropists with too much money all trying to outbid their peers in a maybe less than pure show of charitability. 

Whichever it was, you weren’t above any of it. You were present, which would be enough to earn an eye roll from anyone willing to question the intentions of some of the guests' charitable actions. Not that you particularly cared, though. Charity was charity either way. 

“It’s been so nice chatting to you Mr. Rockefeller, I’ll be keeping you on that promise to speak more about the London project,” you smile kindly at the older man in front of you, flashing a charming grin in his direction as he starts to turn and return to his beckoning wife.

The man in front of you smiles in response, turning slowly while still surprisingly quickly for a man of his age, “I know you will, hun. I’ll be waiting!”

“I promise not to keep you waiting too long,” You laugh heartily, patting his arm as he shakes his head, “You know I’ve never been one with much patience on these kinds of projects.”

Mr. Rockefeller laughs again, shaking his cane in your direction, “That’s the girl I know, always so eager to help others!”

Your face warms, another polite laugh falling out of your painted lips, “As always. Have a good night Mr. Rockefeller!”

He waves vaguely over his shoulder as he starts to make his way back to his wife who takes the few steps forward needed to be able to meet him in the middle, their arms quickly intertwining, putting a nice bow on their, so far, fifty years of marriage.

You watch them go, admiring the picture of long-lasting love as they smile adoringly at each other. It’s almost enough to make you cry.

You’re so wrapped up in the couple that you almost don’t notice Lewis approaching. 

But you do notice. You always do. 

You turn your head just as he walks up, his arm slinking over your shoulder. You lean into his side, trying your best to still retain a professional image while sinking into the Brit’s comforting hold.

“Why were you chatting it up with Rockefeller?” Lewis asks, a small grin on his lips as he asks. He takes a sip of the glass in his hand, one large ball of ice floating around in the amber liquid. 

“Working on investors for the London project,” You pull the drink out of his hand gently and he’s quick to let you, slipping his now-free hand in the pocket of his dress pants as you both face the room in front of you, “Providing under-privileged kids in London and surrounding areas with karting opportunities.”

“Wonder where you got that idea from?” Lewis muses, humming slightly. 

You look up at him, narrowing your eyes with a gentle smirk, “Yeah, I wonder.”

With that, you take a swig of the shallow glass clutched in your hand, blinking suddenly at the taste, “Is this Almave?”

Lewis grins, nodding as he takes the glass back from you. You shake your head with a slight laugh, stepping out of his hold. You start to walk away, grabbing his free hand to pull him along with you, “Come on, I need a glass of real alcohol. No offense, darling.”

Lewis just rolls his eyes, the edge of his lips upturning just a hint, “None taken.”

Those are the words you need to hear to pull him away again, your quiet conversation punctuated by the consistent click of your heels as you pull him over to the bar.

You get your champagne soon after, proceeding to be dragged away from Lewis and pushed, instead, into networking and charity work. 

It's a seemingly endless conversation, one rich person being replaced by another as soon as they walk away. Not that you were particularly aggravated about it, though. Your family’s wealth wouldn’t be enough to finance the London project all by itself and it seemed as if your list of potential investors was getting longer by the minute. You were particularly pleased to hear chatter from some of your foreign connections about expanding the project to other cities, including Paris and Barcelona. That is, if the London sector was a success. Which it would be, considering you were the one running it. 

But, all that is to say that you were tired of conversing with old rich men and their old rich man friends. The only old rich man you were interested in talking to was the very one you had come in with. Though, this one was at least half the age of all the others. 

So you set off to find said man, downing yet another flute of champagne before setting it aside. It doesn’t take much to find him, the man having a natural magnetic energy. It’s almost as if you can just tell where he is even from across the room with how you’re drawn to one specific corner. 

You make your way over there, drifting smoothly across the tiled floor with a peaceful smile planted on your lips. When you reach the corner of the room Lewis is in, you slide up to him, slotting yourself at his side. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. But his pull doesn’t hurt or anything, it’s actually rather comforting. 

You both rest there for a few moments, reveling in the comfort of each other's presence as you start to de-ravel the knot of social exhaustion that had started to tangle up deep in your soul. It’s quite nice to be able to stand in Lewis’s presence without any other factors messing about. Just you, him, peace and quiet and the soft melody of Christmas music playing in the background.

You gaze out upon the room as you sway with Lewis gently. You watch as couples spin around the floor, pulling each other around and gazing at each other with deeply-rooted love obvious in their eyes. Something about the way they move entrances you, calling out to you and pulling at the yearning in your soul. 

Maybe it’s the exhaustion clouding your judgement or maybe it’s the multiple glasses of champagne you just finished but you find yourself pulling away from Lewis’s chest and grasping his hands in yours as you gaze into his eyes.

“Come dance with me.”

You wait anxiously for his response, chewing gently at the inside of your lip as you wait for a reply. Maybe you had been bigging it up in your head because you’re more shocked than you should be when he replies simply with a smile.

“Okay.”

With that, your anxiety about his answer disappears in a heartbeat and you have to stop yourself from laughing as you turn and pull him away. He follows, seemingly more concerned with what you want him to do than his own personal comforts. 

You drag him all the way over to the middle of the room just as a new song comes on, the music coming out soft and gentle in tone, with a melody you vaguely recognize from past years of Christmas radio. 

You settle into the Brit’s hold, leaning close to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms drift to your waist, holding you near enough where you can practically feel his heartbeat against your chest. You look up at him, watching as he looks over your head at the room around you, making sure you don’t steer into anyone else. You stay like that for a moment, simply watching him as he watches everyone else. You sway gently to the music, floating calmly around the floor. You and Lewis move as one, not speaking but moving in synchronization anyway.  

His face is calm. Calmer than you’d seen him in ages, actually. He’s at peace, for once. You bend one of your arms, reaching your hand up to cup the side of his neck, your thumb brushing against his jaw. With the contact, he looks back to you, eyes sparkling as he smiles softly.

“Hi.”

You smile back, tilting your head slightly as your eyes trace the feature of his face, “Hi.”

His lips quirk higher as he watches you, “You having fun?”

You let out a soft hum, “Mhm.”

He hums in response, grinning as he looks back away and looks up at the room around you before looking back, “I’m glad.”

You hum again, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as your gaze turns to look out across the room. You focus on the rhythm of the two of you swaying back and forth, only truly caring about you and the man you love in front of you. 

You always savored moments like these, such peace not coming often. With Lewis being a Formula 1 driver and you managing a multitude of businesses and nonprofits, it didn’t leave much time for yourselves. 

But occasionally, you’d get a small moment of peace such as the one you were enjoying right then. You’d learned to appreciate it 100x more than any old Wednesday.

You and Lewis continue to sway, slowly turning in a circle as you move. After a few movements, you’re facing the large windows that look out upon the sprawling courtyard outside. Among the tall, perfectly pruned, trees and ornately-laid stone pathways, delicate snowflakes fall, dusting the yard with a soft layer of white fluff. 

A soft gasp leaves your lips, your head shooting up from its place on Lewis’s chest as a smile breaks out on your lips. Lewis looks up as well, moving from where he’d been observing the other side of the room. He hums questioningly, following your gaze toward the windows. 

“It’s snowing!” You reply softly, eyes sparkling as you look back towards your lover. You’re met with his eyes already on you, a slight smile on his lips. 

“It is.”

You unwrap yourself from his arms, grasping his hand in your own and pulling him along for the third time that night, him being just as compliant as he had been the other two times. You pull him along, holding onto his hand tightly, reveling in the oh-so familiar feeling of his skin on yours. You lead him to a door on the edge of the room, hidden behind an uncrowded hallway, almost no one in sight. The door opens smoothly as you push on it, opening up to reveal a deserted courtyard, a small path winding through it. You step out, placing your heel gently onto the frozen-over steps, careful not to slip and fall.

Lewis senses your hesitation, quickly dropping your hand to reach an arm around your waist to steady you as you lead him down the stairs. You welcome the contact, grateful for his body heat seeping into your quickly cooling skin. 

You hurry down the steps as quickly as your precarious heels will let you. As you reach the stone path at the bottom, you take a few steps down the path and toward the middle of the courtyard before stopping suddenly. Lewis almost collides into you, having rushed to keep up with you when you’d suddenly rushed away. But he manages to slow himself down just enough to only brush lightly against your arm. He once again wraps an arm around your waist when he reaches you, pulling you into his side. You melt into his hold.

For the first time since you stepped outside, you are still enough to feel the delicate snowflakes falling onto your skin, the flakes melting back to water just as you come into contact with them. You look up, grinning as you see the snow clouds above you. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur, practically entranced by the falling ice above you. It’s peaceful, something you’d been yearning for for months while completely swamped with work. It’s nice.

Lewis hums behind you, “It really is.”

You look back to him, turning around to face the man behind you. But he isn’t looking at the sky. No, his eyes are instead on you. You flush, shying away from his intense gaze. You look back up through your eyelashes with a soft turn of your lips, “I have a feeling you weren’t talking about the snow.”

Lewis looks up, feigning disbelief with wide eyes, “Oh, is it snowing? I had no idea.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, “You’re so dumb.”

Lewis hums, narrowing his eyes with a smirk as he intertwines his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You’re grateful for the short relief from the cold, “Mmm, you love me for it.”

You tilt your head, similarly to a curious dog, looking deep into the eyes of the man you love, “I do. I really, really do.”

Lewis huffs lightly, leaning slightly closer, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You reply, tightening your hold around him.

A snowflake falls against your cheekbone, your skin having cooled down just enough to let the delicate crystal survive long enough for Lewis to reach a hand up and brush it away, letting his hand linger longer than technically necessary. You don’t mind, leaning into the touch. 

“Well,” He starts, “It’s probably good that I love you too.”

You have to bite your lip to conceal the grin that’s trying to split your face, “Yeah?”

Lewis pauses for a few moments, his face softening as he brushes his thumb against your cheek, “Yeah.”

Then you’re leaning in and he’s leaning in and your lips are meeting and you’re melting. You lean as close to him as you can, feeling his lips mold against yours. It’s almost like you hadn’t kissed him a billion times in this life because it feels just as magical as the first. His hand is wrapped around the side of your face, warmth leaking into your own skin. 

Snow is melting beneath your feet, soaking into the ends of your expensive dress but you don’t even care, too busy basking in the love radiating between the two of you. 

But you do eventually pull away, if for nothing more than breath of air. But the moment isn’t over. It almost never was when you were with Lewis. No matter how much time you spent apart or working, the magic had never faded. You weren’t sure it ever would. 

But when the time came for you to head back inside, your hand was clutched tightly in Lewis’, a soft smile on your lips and maybe more than a few melted snowflakes dusting your skin.

Tags:

@casperlikej @evie-119

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap, 6, chap 7

PART 6 MEETING MOM

As the summer camp buses lined up, Mr. Hamilton stood on the main lawn, a megaphone in hand, his voice cutting through the chatter of children reluctant to leave.

“Okay, everyone, I hope you packed everything! Don’t forget anything, and we’ll see you next summer!” he called, hugging children who clung to him in farewell.

Amidst the emotional goodbyes, a pair of boys stood under the shade of an old oak tree, whispering fervently.

“They’re staring at us too much, Matheo. Do you think they know?” Mattia adjusted the collar of his shirt nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

Matheo, ever the confident one, rolled his eyes. “No way. Stop being so weird, or they’ll suspect something. Do you remember the plan?”

Mattia hesitated before nodding. “Yes, but… maybe repeat it? Just in case?”

Matheo sighed, exasperated. “You’re hopeless. Fine. I’ll go home to Mom, and you’ll go to Dad. We’ll ask them why they split and figure out how to fix it. Got it?”

Mattia nodded fervently, clutching his suitcase. “Got it. This is for the greater good.”

“Mattia Y/LN! Your car is ready!” Mr. Hamilton’s voice boomed, making both boys jump.

Mattia grinned and gave Matheo a quick hug. “Good luck with Mom. And remember, don’t mess this up!”

Matheo smiled nervously, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted his suitcase. “You too. Tell Dad… I said hi, okay?”

“I will.” Mattia smirked, ruffling his brother’s hair and let him jogging off toward the car.

****

London was breathtaking. Matheo pressed his nose against the car window, taking in the winding streets, the azure sky, and the amazing architecture of London. His heart raced as they approached the house—a beautiful, modest villa with ivy climbing the walls.

When the car stopped, he hesitated for a moment before stepping out. A wave of unfamiliar scents hit him—fresh sea air, blooming flowers, and something else... coffee? He clutched his suitcase and stepped inside, greeted by the cozy interior and a handmade sign that read, "Welcome Home, Mattia."

He smiled despite himself. As he wandered further, the smell of coffee grew stronger. Following it, he found a man sitting in an armchair, newspaper in hand.

“Grandpa?” Matheo ventured.

The man lowered the paper, revealing sharp blue eyes and a graying mustache. “Mattia! Is that you? My favorite little gentleman?”

Matheo grinned. “It’s me, Grandpa.”

Grandpa stood, pulling him into a tight hug. “My god, you’ve grown! But what’s this?” He leaned back, eyeing Matheo curiously. “Are you smelling me?”

Matheo nodded earnestly, "I’m memorizing it.” His grandpa chuckle a little and say "You’re as peculiar as ever.”

Before Matheo could reply, a soft voice floated down the staircase. “Mattia? My baby?”

Matheo froze. His heart thudded as he turned toward the sound. There she was Y/N—his mother, descending the stairs, her arms outstretched.

“Mom!” Matheo cried, running to her. She swept him into a hug, kissing the top of his head as he buried his face in her shoulder.

"I can't believe it's you," Matheo tried to say through his sobs.

"And I can't believe it's you, baby. Tell me, who was the person who dared to cut your beautiful hair?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she ruffling her son soft hair.

"He was a friend from camp, is it bad?"

"No, of course not. It suits you very well"

Then Y/N noticed Matheo's hair color. "What? A dyed hair too?"

Matheo tried not to get nervous so he grimaced

"Does it bother you?"

"As long as you don't turn into a bad kid, it's all good. Is there another surprise you have to tell me, baby? A piercing? A tattoo?"

Matheo cried more at his mother's sincere concern, he needed this, he had longed for it so much. Y/N worriedly watched as his son shed more tears.

"What happen baby? are you feeling hurt or something?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that I missed you too much."

"I missed you so much too. It felt like an eternity the time you weren't by my side."

She cupped his face, her smile softening. “Welcome home, my little man. You’re finally here.”

Matheo clung to her again, his heart swelling with a mix of relief and joy. For the first time in months, he felt like he was exactly where he belonged.

****

His mother pulled back, her hands on his shoulders, and smiled warmly. "Come now, tell me everything! Did you like everyone at camp? Was it fun?"

Before Matheo could answer, Martin, the ever-dutiful butler, appeared at the door with a small, unexpected guest.

"Excuse me, madam," Martin said, holding up a small, scruffy real madrid tightly. "It seems we have a plush in the suitcase."

Matheo's eyes widened in panic. Madi?! His real madrid plushie, he snatched the plushie from Martin's hands. "Oh! Uh, that belongs to my... friend," he stammered. "The one I told you about from camp. I have no idea how it got into the suitcase."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. "Well, since it’s not ours, shall we dispose of it?"

"No!" Matheo blurted, clutching the stuffed real madrid tightly. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "I mean, no. I’ll mail it to him. He loves this thing a lot. Like, he can’t live without it. Especially not in, say, a foreign country."

"Very well," his mom said with a smile, clearly not buying his story but letting it slide. "Martin, that’ll be all. Thank you."

As Martin left, Matheo exhaled, holding Madi close.

[musicallisto]

Could I please please please ask for a lil thing about Lewis comforting his partner when they’re feeling insecure 🥺 👉🏻👈🏻

· · · · ♡ PRE-SEASON JITTERS (lh44)

… starring lewis hamilton x gn!reader (and roscoe !!)

... 1.4k words

... in which the bleak pre-season period has you feeling all sorts of anxious, but a homemade meal and affection from your favorite person (and dog!) could be just the thing you need.

... i love this request and I think we could all use a little bit of lewis reassurance every now and then 🥹 let's all forget this horrendous weekend for him btw

The pitter-patter of Roscoe's claws on the linoleum floors is what reveals your presence first. Slumbering in the kitchen amidst the fumes from the extractor hood, the bulldog suddenly straightens up, stares at the front door, ears pricked up for no apparent reason, and disappears into the hallway with a snort. That's when Lewis knows he has to set the table, add pepper to the risotto. He's not the best cook, and usually the private chef would be in charge of dinner... but in the week preceding each new season, the British driver prefers to keep his evenings and his hands busy.

Your steps are heavy, keys turning in the door laboriously—"Hi Roscoe, oh, you're a sleepy boy, aren't you?" faint between huffs and puffs. Lewis can read you like an open book after so many years: it's not just the bleak mid-February evening weighing you down.

You've had a shit day.

"Hi, Lew," you sigh as you step into the kitchen to wash your hands, something like weary relief peeking from your tone.

"Hi, love." In the cozy penthouse lights, your tense figure and slumped shoulders look out of place, too harrowed to belong in this neat space that the London night outside can't traverse. "I made dinner, nothing too fancy, sorry, but..."

"It's perfect," you cut him off gently, with those shiny eyes he adores so much, eyes that only ever seem to catch his light and nothing else's. A quick peck to his cheek unravels your twisted face a little more. "Wish it were pre-season jitters every week."

"I don't," he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your shoulder like a gentle caress. "Poor Bono's going to have a heart attack any day now... you'd think we haven't done this ten times over already."

Dinner is a ritual, almost a sacralized place for Lewis and you—and Roscoe, wagging his tail back and forth between your legs to see what he can puppy-look his humans into slipping him underneath the table. And it works, Lewis never having been one to resist him for long; Roscoe licks his chops with each mushroom he eagerly steals from the driver's fingers. Easy conversation turns into soft jokes and his latest media duty drama, your favorite to dissect after a long day... but he notices the spark in your smile doesn't reach your eyes, and your mouth contorts into a downtrodden pout when he leans over to scratch the top of Roscoe's big head.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks in earnest, and as long as you don't meet those big, soulful brown eyes, you know you can get through the conversation without crumbling.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired-"

"No," he shakes his head, smiling ever so slightly, as his hand reaches out to cradle your fingers on the table. "Come on, I know you by heart. I know you're upset. You know you can tell me everything that's on your mind, right?"

Moonlight filters through the large glass windows, mixing with the ceiling light's warm glow and casting a hundred different hues on your cheeks—fractals of white and gold softening the blacks of your eye bags. Lewis aches to see you so—gorgeous and exhausted, yet unwaveringly surrendered to him, willing to crash headfirst into his safe haven. His hand clasps yours at the same time as Roscoe rests a warm, heavy head on your lap.

"It's just... this stupid thing at work. I'm so... behind on everything, and there's this new guy who's always being passive-aggressive towards me in front of our boss, and he's a fucking idiot but—everyone loves him and his ideas, and I feel like no one... appreciates anything I do or even just values my presence, and..." Quivers in your voice you barely control anymore. "And also, you're gonna be leaving next week and I hate it so much when you're gone because then I feel sad but being sad makes me feel like a big burden to you because you're supposed to be focusing on racing and not... not babysitting me or listening to me drag you down, and then I—"

"Hey," he interrupts before your tirade degenerates, and you almost don't notice him getting up from his chair, shapes moving beyond the blurry veil of your eyelashes.

You rush to wipe them; in the blink of an eye he's there, with a gentle hand on your shoulder; its weight grounds you, much like Roscoe's chin pressing a little deeper against your thigh. As if sensing your distress.

"I think you may be getting into your own head a little. Don't you think?"

He speaks softly, but nothing paternalistic; a conciliatory hum that echoes the steady purring of the washing machine, and down below, all these cars full of people headed back to their own little warm huts. Words don't come to your tongue, blocked by the acerbic shame that bubbles in the pit of your throat—how many times must you fall to pieces over nothing in front of him like this? Instead, you shake your head, and that's good enough for him.

"You're not a burden, love."

You've heard it before, from unremarkable social media influencers and good-natured friends, but it's only when Lewis says it, with the perfect balance of pragmatism and warmth, that you truly let the meaning seep in.

"Not now, and not ever. I listen to you because I choose to listen to you, because I want to be there for you. And about work—look at it this way. Do you really think they'd keep you around if you contributed nothing? I know I'd get axed."

You laugh despite yourself, which Roscoe takes as a sign that the sudden sour mood is gone and everyone's attention will soon return to the food if the content little yelp he lets out is any indication.

"No one would ever axe you, Lew, you can't be bothered to do media day like every other week and have never been told anything. But I'm not a seven-time world champion of anything."

"You don't need to!" he chuckles too, raising his hands in mock innocence. "I'm just being realistic here. You're valued. You really do matter. Who do you trust more, some pathetic high school bully or a seven-time world champion?"

"You just want me to stroke your ego," you retort, rolling your eyes, though a small smile creeps on you lips when Lewis leans even closer, eye to eye with you.

"Well you brought it up first, and I can't exactly help being the greatest at what I do."

"Shut up," more giggles escape through your pursed lips.

Lewis' eyes crinkle a little brighter with each of your chuckles, but his grin fades into tenderness when he kisses your forehead. As he pulls back, his features are more relaxed, more quiet, but no less expressive for all that.

"Whenever I start beating myself up after a particularly shit weekend, you always tell me you wish I could see myself through your eyes, right? How admirable it is that I always give it my all, and that I always strive to be the best I possibly can? Well, that goes both ways. You get all caught up in your own head and don't realize how people see you... but I love you, and I do. From outside your head," he ends with a playful tap to the tip of your nose, where a few gleaming tears have dug a bed.

Your fingers intertwine with his out of habit, without really thinking about it, and you lean into his side just as his arms close around your frame, one hand cradling the back of your head. It's indescribable, the tranquility that overwhelms you whenever you're in Lewis' arms, like his strong heart is enough to numb all your aching nerves and wounds.

Time can't pass slow enough in his comforting embrace... much to Roscoe's dismay.

"Oh, sorry, big boy, you must be starving," Lewis laughs at the bulldog's disgruntled bark, "it's been at least ten minutes since you last ate anything..."

You ruffle Roscoe's thick neck as he nonchalantly trots behind Lewis and the treats he always smells on his clothes; though the dog's attention is too captivated by the prospect of food to pay you much attention now, you swear he rubs up against your leg like an approximative hug. Blinking away the last tears, you take in the domestic scene, Lewis mumbling sweet nothings to his waddling companion, the familiar sound of his food bowl scraping against the floor.

At least you do hold some significance in your small corner of London, you think. In between these walls, in the depths of their hearts—hearts that have, somewhat and somehow, chosen you. And it won't be easy to understand just yet... but at least, for now, it will be enough to treasure.

... f1 taglist; @retvenkos @giuseppe-yuki (want to be added? send me an ask!)

[81folklore]

helpless - RUSSELL

pairings: george russell x hamilton!ensemble!reader (fc: ella kora)

summary: george ends his softlaunch with a cast member of hamilton on the westend

authors note: sorry for not posting in forever but ive had no motivation and i cant find the want to finish some of my drafts so have a brand new smau thats been BREWING in my brain ever since i saw hamilton the other week. its literally one my favorite musicals so you know i had to incorporate my two interests, you dont need to have seen hamilton or know about the story for this!

important: rg63 is george’s private instagram

masterlist

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and 366,450 others

water, sports and sunsets☀️

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user7 shirtless george is back!!

user10 hes so…

user45 THE SOFTLAUNCH HAS TO END SOON RIGHT😭😭

user12 i miss when george wouldnt make me feel single every post😔

yourusername oh myyy🫠

yourusername

liked by jakeh_j, lilymhe and 235 others

smiles (mostly) all round this summer☀️

tagged: rg63 and jakeh_j

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rg63 miss you darling🤍

yourusername miss you too love💜

jakeh_j dinner soon?

yourusername yes!! g is coming to a show soon so we can do it then :)

jakeh_j sounds good👍

user6 cant wait to see you in hamilton!

yourfriend cutie��

georgerussell63 and alex_albon have added to their stories

yourusername ahhh cant wait to see you all💜

f1updates

liked by user72, user1 and 2367 others

george, alex and lily with fans today in london

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user1 im the one in the third photo, they were in a rush as they had to go to the theatre but they were all so sweet and took the time to sign a hat i had!

user10 was anyone else with them?

user1 there wasnt! i dont think george was with his girlfriend but she could’ve been waiting for them somewhere else☺️

user72 idk why them going to the theatre together is funny but it is😭

user5 right?? it feels so random😭

user53 i can’t believe they watched hamilton before me

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and 872,426 others

i have been with you since the beginning of your incredible journey of living out your dream of being in the west end. i know how much getting this part in hamilton meant to you and getting to see you on stage brings me so much joy, forever proud of you darling🤍

tagged yourusername

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yourusername george☹️i will love you forever and ever thank you soso much for being by my side💜

yourusername you have no idea how happy it makes me to know you are in the crowd

alex_albon thanks for being my friend so lily can see her favorite musical😁

georgerussell63 yeah no worries man👊

yourusername alex i hope you know its me she loves to see, not hamilton🤨

alex_albon your wrong.

lilymhe shes very much correct🫶

user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING

user5 HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

user25 WAKE UP GEORGE POSTED HER AHHHH user6

user6 OMG I LITERALLY SAW HER THE OTHER DAY😭

user10 this is so cute (im sobbing)

user8 wow the highway is such a good place to stargaze!!

user83 i cannot cope why is this so🫠🫠

lewishamilton 💜💜

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 6273 others

i look into your eyes and the skys the limit. georgie my love for you is timeless, each day i think about how lucky i am to have you by my side and how lucky i am to get to be the one to love you. you have changed the way i view the world and myself and my life will always be better now youve entered it, and no matter what this chapter in our lives will stick with me forever and always💜

tagged georgerussell63

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georgerussell63 i am so grateful you have come into my life

georgerussell63 i love you so much darling

yourusername i will never stop loving you🫶

lilymhe when will i get posts like this☹️

yourusername yours is next lovely🤭

alex_albon babe?? i post you all the time

lilymhe and yet you havent used a lyric from hamilton🤨

user16 oh i love them so much😭

user45 my😭love😭for😭you😭is😭timeless😭

user12 hahhaa im so happy for you😭😭

jakej_h i hate people in love

yourusername you love us really😁

user9 MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS

user7 OH MY GOD GEORGE LOOKS SO GOOD🫠

liked by yourusername and others

user101 george is so boyfriend🤭

user62 that first picture😮‍💨

user99 they are so in love😭

[hamiltonconfessions-but-better]

ok I'm not even gonna be anonymous for this one people need to know how I feel. Yes, the original Broadway cast of Hamilton is iconic. yes, they are talented. However, every other cast that came after them is still very very talented. just because they're not Daveed diggs or Jasmine Cephas-Jones doesn't mean you should say shit like "they're not the original cast so I don't like them" or something along those lines. I'm not really talking about the people on this app, im more talking about the people on youtube/pinterest. yes, the people there are generally younger, but i feel like they should at least have some decency. I'm also really fucking pissed about Lams shippers atm. No, I don't hate you if you ship lams, its chill if you do. tbh I kinda fw lams. Yes, I will hate the fact that you are shoving lams in my face and completely disregarding Eliza and Hamliza. Yes, alexander and john did have some letters that let future historians wonder how close they were. yes, john and alexander were very good friends. However, saying stuff like "lams exists" and "bro lams is better" under Hamliza posts really irks me. Eliza and Alexander really did love eachother, even though Alexander had the whole Reynolds scandal. the pamphlet is important for their history, and john is important for alexander's history, but that doesn't mean people should disregard Hamliza or Eliza. Eliza forgave Alexander for the affair, and I feel like people are really skimming over that. And not to mention John's side of the story. even though John married his wife out of pity and left her in London, his letters to Martha (his wife) were very sweet and endearing, and Martha died on a ship to go see John, orphaning their only daughter, Frances Elanor Laurens. Well hope my followers dont wanna kill me for this. -Jackie

.

[vivmaek]

THE PLUTO IN SAGITTARIUS GENERATION Born at the start of Globalization, November 10, 1995 - January 25, 2008

I’ve been talking a lot of shit on here about the Pluto in Sagittarius generation. And while I still think my irritations are justified (lol,) I gotta make it up by doing a complete breakdown. After all, this is the generation I belong to. 

1995: NASA's Galileo spacecraft arrives at Jupiter

With Pluto in Sagittarius, this is a generation full of creatives, visionaries, academics, philosophers and rebels. We’re all about big ideas and moral philosophy. We’ve had the internet within our fingertips our entire lives, an unlimited database of knowledge and social interconnectivity.

We have a lot in common with the Pluto in Leo generation (Baby Boomers,) being that both generations are ruled by fire signs. However what differentiates us is that the Pluto in Leo generation is focused on the self (Sun,) and the Pluto in Sagittarius generation is focused on the collective (Jupiter.) We project a sense of optimism despite having such large ambitions. This will serve as an inspiration for future generations. 

Most of us have parents belonging to the Pluto in the Libra Generation. They raised us with values centered on equality and justice. 

We grew up amongst explosive world events: First Internet Meme (1996), Google (1998), Columbine (1998), The Second Congo War (1998), Kosovo Genocide (1999), Launch of International Space Station (2000), 9/11 (2001), Invasion of Iraq (2003), Darfur (2003), Boxing Day Tsunami (2004), Facebook (2004), London Bombings (2005), iPhone (2007), America's first black President (2008), Global Economic Downturn (2008).

Pluto in Capricorn frames our coming of age story. Our teenage years were harsh and depressing. It was an isolating experience that did not involve much fun. For many people born with a Sagittarius Pluto, their adolescence is defined by a Global Pandemic in which all movement was restricted. These years also put into focus old frameworks that must be destroyed and cast aside.

The Pluto In Scorpio Generation is coming through and uprooting all these frameworks before passing the torch onto us. We will be the ones to come up with blueprints for new ideologies and ways of thinking. We’re aiming forward and casting an arrow for future generations to follow. 

Past events that occurred while Pluto was in Sagittarius: The Burning of the Library of Alexandria (272), first novel published in Japan (1010), Sorbonne founded (1257), first use of eyeglasses (1268), Columbus sets sail (1502), the birth of Nostradamus (1503), invention of sign language (1749), the first encyclopedia (1751).  

Past figures born while Pluto was in Sagittarius: Constantine I (272), Dante Aligheri (1265), Goethe (1749), James Madison (1751), Alexander Hamilton (1755), Marie Antoinette (1755), Mozart (1756,) William Blake (1757), Robespierre (1758).

[keelt9]

Chapter 14

Masterlist

The sunlights makes me turn around in the small gap that is between Max and the back of his sofa, covered in a blanket.

The knock on the door makes me try to get up to find my clothes but as soon as Max feels I tried to move, he pulls me back one more time, pressing me tight against him as he covers us with the blanket.

“Max.” He put my arm between us so the cast doesn’t bother us. “Someone is knocking.”

“What a shame they don’t know I’m here.” He giggles. “They know I travel early in the morning to London.”

As my hand slips at his back I feel his skin cold. “You’re cold.” The soft vibrations of Max’s laugh are always calming.

“Liefje, I don’t have a t-shirt on, kind of obvious.” I hit his chest. “Besides, your cast is kind of rough.”

I stand pushing him away but he grabs me as I try to pass over his body. “I told you, I can go for another one.” 

Max smiles pretending he’s thinking. “You look better in that one.” 

The soft sunlights that come to his window makes his skin glow, making me sigh.

“Jeez, you’re handsome.” I lean on to kiss him, feeling how his hands go up against my things as my legs straddle him.

Until my phone rang, even though I tried to ignore it, I reached to see it on the carpet next to the sofa, Thomas. 

I split with a bittersweet sensation, I must pick up; still Max grabs me by my waist. 

“No, no, no, we’re just…” He pulls me by the back of my neck. 

One more time starts to sound. “Sorry, but I need to pick up.” He reluctantly let me go. 

I pick up walking to the window far away from Max’s touch. 

Thomas keeps telling me I must be there yesterday night and corroborate something with me. “I’m being serious, Y/N, tonight. If you come tomorrow…”

“Thomas I’ll be there!” I heard a strong sound, he's in the shelter. “Something came up.”

“She’s kind of busy Thomas!” Max screamed, laid on the couch, phone on his hands.

“Put it on the speaker.” I follow his order otherwise he will collapse. “SHE’S BEEN THERE FOR A WEEK!

“Thomas!” I cut it out. “See you tonight, bye.”

Max raises his eyebrows. “A week huh?” 

I sit next to him on the carpet. “I had a few meetings last week, but…”  I raise my hand seeing how fast he sits. “I didn’t tell you, it doesn’t make so much sense, you know, ruin your team celebration.”

Max scoffs. “Ruin?” 

“Oh please, if I told you; you won’t fly right away as the race ends?”

Max fights to not laugh but when I narrow my eyes he gives up, he knows he will do it.

“See!” Max pulls me by the back of my neck for kissing me. “Now, I have to go or Thomas will have a heart attack.”

“No, no, an hour more.” He kissed me one more time.

I stand kissing him. “Sorry, I have to go.” 

I sit on his lap with my arm around his neck, distracting him for he won’t be that fast to catch me as I pick up my clothes to go change.

With a pouty Max at the airport I said goodbye as he promised he will reach me as soon as he can, but I have a plan on my mind.

By the end of our meeting for the review of the blueprint of the shelter, Thomas seemed to finally be able to breathe, he laid back on the chair dropping his shoulders.

“Wasn’t that hard, huh?” I joke knowing the expertise that comes this morning has a review of every minimum detail.

He barely lifted his head. “Don’t start Hamilton, don’t start.”

I laughed but I have an appointment with Dr. Hank in the afternoon for finally removing the cast. 

“You need something from Mika’s house?” Thomas sits properly one more time.

It’s been a week and don’t ask me how I know but Thomas hasn’t slept in his apartment all the week.

“You little…” Emma enters cover in ground, then lasts excavations, already finished.

“That’s huge!” I’m sure she refers to the big hole in the land but with Thomas embarrassed I can’t avoid teasing him.

“I KNOW!” I scream going out of the tent with Thomas red of shyness.

Dr. Hank said my recovery is going on pretty well, with a few sessions of rehab he expected my arm will be like new by the beginning of the year.

I sent a picture of my free arm to Max.

>My special autograph. 🙁

He purposely took his time to sign my cast before I came back to London.

>I’ll keep it safe, don’t worry.

“World is definitely small.” My eyes trigger to the insufferable voice of Hanna. “London isn’t that big.”

I’m sitting in a cafeteria waiting for dad to come and pick me. 

“Hanna.” Her smile is making me nauseous.

“You've been quiet everywhere.” She sat in front of me. “I saw the news about you and Max Verstappen. You met in Liverpool, not a romantic place but hey, I’m not judging you.”

“What?” The pieces of my puzzle start to fit. “The news mentioned Newport, not Liverpool.”

Hanna grins. “Really? Maybe you haven’t seen all the posts about you.”

“It was you.” I whisper letting waves or realization hit me so hard. “It’s always been you.”

Hanna lifts her shoulders. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

One thing Hanna hates is when you confront her, so when she is about to stand I keep talking, taking her by surprise, because with her I never do that.

“Caleb mentioned that night about people who helped him to realize maybe we were taking the things in such a rush.” I stand in front of her. “I thought…”

“See, that’s why he steps back, you started to believe things that never happened.” Hanna crossed her arms. 

“You said he was such a  prick. You said if some did this to you would never forgive it.” I feel anger growing. “You said you…”

“Oh my word! You're making such a scene.” She moves to keep walking but no, I won’t let this slip.

I crossed in her path one more time. “I know it’s not all you, you barely pay attention to him…” 

The moments of her sister searching for Caleb and talking so close and so intimate makes feel like a fool.

“Isabel.” Hanna's face turns white and her arms slip from her chest. 

Checkmate.

Hanna was about to spill more poison but I take a step ahead, I’m finishing with all this.

“Listen Hanna, and you better tell him the same.” I take a step towards her. “Leave me alone, I've been letting slip all these time but I’m stopping this.” 

Hanna smiles. “Did Max…”

“If you keep messing with me or Max, I won’t hold back, you know so many things about me but as I do.” I turn to grabbing my things. 

“Are you threatening me?” I looked right into her eyes. 

“No, that’s kind of lame.” I clear my throat. “I’m warning you what I’m going to do if you insist on getting involved with me or my family. After all, from you and me, you have tons of dirty things behind you.”

After all life has a particular way of offering you peace; behind her I see Caleb and her sister walking hand by hand apparently didn't even notice who was talking with Hanna until she turns around and sees them. They let go of each other's hands when they see me, I just smile and wave my hand to them.

“I hope we barely see each other again.” I know, inside Hanna has a battle for don’t let someone challenge her but she acknowledges all is on the light.

I turn around feeling the heavy weight over my back is crumbling. “Hamilton!” I don’t bother to turn around, just shake my head. “I hope the feelings you’re so damn sure about be real, this time.”

I smirk, not even bothering to answer such a stupid words.

Next morning everyone noticed a change in me; my parents pointed out that I look more relaxed. Thomas said even the dark circle under my eyes is barely noticeable and Mika knew it at the moment I found her coming out of her on call of the night in the hospital.

“Finally!” Mika said as we sat for breakfast. “But, I would love to see her face.”

I smile at her, even when 36 hours of work is on her, she takes her time with me. “I feel free, like I can finally breathe.”

Mika grabs my hand. “I’m so happy for you Y/N, I really am, still the next time you crash someone at least record it.”

“I swear.” Mika nodded as the waitress came for our order. 

By the time my meeting approaches I go with Mika to her apartment, beside the building, which is just 4 blocks away.

“Thanks for having breakfast with me.” She hates eating alone, she never tells you but you can notice as you share time with her. “Thomas left earlier…”

“Don’t even say it, I know I've been keeping him from one side to the other.” Thomas is practically living in Newport, he left early in the morning and arrived late at night.

“Hey! Your house is amazing.” Mika and my parents already saw it last weekend; Thomas gave them a small tour. “We could wait for you.” 

I thought about that but I have a better plan. “I want to go with Max.”

Mika smirks as she opens the door. “My cute lovely birds. Are you already assimilated to the unexpected meeting?.“ 

I low my head feeling my face heats, before leaving Max and neither I expected to find his mother and sister with her family coming out of a car, when I tried to pull my hand Max grabbed it tight.

We already talked about meeting his family but he wanted to do it in calm when the season finally ended, not this way; however it went fantastic. Sophie was so happy to finally meet the girl who Max found impossible to spot talking about, his sister was glad Max found someone whose brother can be himself and be totally comfortable and happy. 

Still his nephews were reluctant to let uncle Max go without playing with him.

“I’m in the middle of it.” Mika tosses her coat and gloves on the sofa going to the kitchen for a hot pack for her neck. 

“Hamiltons and Versptenns, who could even imagine.” Mika giggles laying back on her couch, tired.

I smile, grabbing one blanket for one of her bedrooms. “Rest Mika, I’ll call you later, ok?”

Mika nods with eyes closed, already half asleep.

The meeting was just to complete a few formats and information about the shelter, kind of quick opposite the ones I've had. Besides this one, I have tons of work waiting at home.

“All goes well?” Mom asked when she saw me leaving the keys next to the door.

The weather is officially cold here so the big jackets started to take control of the closet next to the door. 

“Yes.” Mom is sitting with Jewel and Roscoe in their respective beds next to the chimney.

“Max called, he said you didn’t pick up.” I took out my phone, I ran out of battery. 

I stretch to grab the phone of the house and dial his number, seeing how mom smiles softly.

Max picked up at the second beep. “Out of battery, sorry.” I heard him scoffing. 

He asked how the meeting was, glad everything is working as it should. 

“Are you having fun?” Mom stands point if I want a cup of tea, which I accept.

“They left yesterday night, but yeah, I had fun.” It’s weird the silence is with him, he must be in his SIM.

“Are you busy?” I asked, knowing he will pause for a while so he can put all his attention to me.

“Really?” Both of us laughed.

I stand walking to the big window. “Ok, listen, my house is ready, so, I’m wondering if there is a chance you can come for… finally see it?”

“Finally?” I shrugged my shoulders feeling shy even when he wasn't looking at me.

“I want to see it with you.” I correct myself. “I’ll wait to see it with you.”

Max giggles. “Liefje…”

“I know, I know, you're at the last days of your week off, but it doesn’t have to be this week, I’ll wait.” I scratch my forehead, I don’t want him to feel pressure.

“I made the right choice.” I narrow my eyes. “It was a good idea because I'm already in London.

I recognize the same car he used every time he’s in the UK, entering on the gravel road as Jewel and Roscoe stand going to the door.

I left the phone on the window running at the door, hearing mom shout I put my coat.

Max barely had time to come out of the car properly before I put my arms around his neck. 

“You’re here.” I whisper, hiding my face on his neck as he puts his arm around my waist pulling me closer. 

“Schat, I missed you.” He whispered.

I split seeing him. “I’m lighter, right?” Max laughs as I shake my arm in front of him. 

“You’re not wearing a coat and it’s freezing.” Max grabs both of my arms softly after opening his jacket for I surround him and he can cover me as he hugs me with his jacket.

I smile. “It’s way much easier to get inside.”

Max pressed me tight against his chest. “Lately you like to screw the moment, huh?” 

Both of us laugh hearing Roscoe and Jewel barks from the door, they refuse to leave the house with their respective sweaters. 

When we got home, my parents were already serving hot tea in the living room. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, I’m so…” Max was about to apologize for coming without announcing but dad shakes his head. 

“Come one Max, you’re always welcome.” Dad takes his hand before giving him a hug.

I kind of expect a rigid welcome but mom smiles and hugs Max. “It’s lovely having you here darling.” Holding Max’s face which is turning red. “Tea?”

After I cried the night my parents arrived in London, they honestly expected Max to act kind of harsh with me, they were greatly surprised of how things went, which is reflected in a full acceptance of our relationship.

Max spent the day with my parents as I worked, he learnt and helped my mother with her garden and helped my father to make the dinner. 

By the time I got down for dinner Max was covering his face for laughs as my parents laughed with him too.

I smile entering the kitchen surrounding Max’s waist with my arms. “Having fun?”

Max turned around to pass his arm around my shoulders trying to breathe again. “A lot.”

My parents have eyes and a smile that I barely see in a while. 

“You will come to Y/N birthday, right?” We both opened our eyes, we both forgot our birthdays. “Y/N?”

“I forgot.” Playing with Max, I cage him. “It’s not like he asked either.”

Max panicked, opening his mouth but any sound came of it, I kissed his cheek laughing. 

“Don’t worry Max, it’s the 4th of november, if you can come and we can arrange something for both of you.” Dad said probably already thinking about all the options.

Early in the morning we said goodbye, we will spend the rest of the week and weekend in Newport; he will take his flight Sunday morning to Austin. 

Thomas is waiting for us around 9:00 am in my house, as Emma fights for nor losing her nerves knowing today a big steel structure will be arriving.

Max stops two blocks away and looks for something in the back seats.

“Hm, are you ok?” I observed him opening his backpack and taking out a black blindfolded. 

“Yeah, just, turn around please.” I tilt my head. “Thomas wanted this to be a big surprise and give detailed instructions.”

I smirk seeing Max and his hate to follow instructions, turning around so he can cover my eyes. 

He helped me to get out of the car, when I heard Thomas.

“You can follow them, I’m surprised.” Thomas joked with him as I heard a loud crash of hands. “Are you ready?”

“Of course!” I push him after he kisses my cheek. “Let’s go.”

“Jeez!” I bet both of them are laughing in silence. 

Max grabs me by the hand telling me if there is a step or something which can hit or stumble.

“Ok, we’re here.” I heard him. “1, 2, 3.”

I blink a couple of times getting used to the light, the big crystal is the first thing I see with the sunlight all over the place. The house is exactly in the colors I dream red wine and soft white pastel with a few touches of brown, still the big columns and the strong walls with a rustic touch makes it feel safe and warm; the bloody stone walls raise at the back and the front covering the first floor but in the second you can see all. I run directly to the painting room intact as Thomas promised but combine with the modernity of my house perfectly. A few paintings that I keep from the old house inside, this now will be my small office.

In the backyard the small living room is covered with a crystal ceiling and at the bottom the big lemon tree in the summer will cover the house with its shadow; definitely Roscoe and Jewel will have plenty of space for having fun here.

“So?” Thomas asked, standing in the living room. “Is what you dream?” 

Max smiles as I run back to hug Thomas. “It’s perfect, thank you so much.”

Thomas sighs and hugs me tight. “I want this definitely to feel like your home.”

But, Thomas forgot one essential detail, the electricity.

“You’re joking.” I said sitting next to Max on the couch seeing Thomsa freaking out for the fact he forgot he must go ahead in the connectivity to my house.

Thomas ends the call with a relieved expression. “Tonight at night you will have, well, light.” 

I roll my eyes as Max chuckles. “It’s an adorable day for a long day on the beach, huh?”

I take a glimpse of Max who grabs my hand. “Don’t you mind if she takes the day?” I hit Max on his chest, but Thomas already answered. 

“At all.”

We spend the day walking around, eating, definitely eating that cross in our sight and looks or smell delicious, as the day turns cold and people leave the beach we walk right there enjoying the privacy with the view.

Sitting on the sand letting the sunlight warm our bodies I speak without thinking twice.

“Caleb didn’t tell you all the truth.” I feel Max's eyes on me as he smirks. “Yes, he was my fiance and…” I take a long breath of air. “Even we reached the place of our wedding.”

I see Max's face, his eyes wide open and his jaw tense. “12 hours… and probably we won’t be here.”

I press my lips together in a forced smile, but it’s a story that must be told.

[patrice-bergerons]

I keep thinking about just how much love and affection there is from Admiral Hennessy's side in that final confrontation with James, and how it makes the whole thing all the more devastating.

Had Hennessy responded to the news of James and Thomas' affair with revulsion and anger, it would have been easy, far easier, to cast him aside as a "villain" — both for us as the audience, and also I think, for James.

But earlier in the episode we hear that James considers him to be a father figure and here, right before they walk into that office with Alfred Hamilton waiting for them in it, knowing full well what James has done, he still calls James son:

Good God. You perceive the danger about this to be imagined. I told you when this began to be careful of those people. To be aware of just how sharp and unexpected the knife would be if you discounted that danger. I'd thought you'd heard me, son.

There is no reason for him to do that, not to someone he is about to permanently cast out of his life. Once they walk inside too, Hennesy's lips utter that terrible pronouncement but his expression, his voice is so gentle as he does it. Alfred Hamilton is in the room with them and what James has done is so outside cultural norms, it severely limits what Hennessy can say or do. Without uttering the words, this scene is yet another entry in the show's collection of "this is not what I wanted"s.

In fact, while AH would like to avoid the scandal of his son having a homosexual relationship, I have no doubt there were ways to hang James that would be equally if not more amenable to him that would not cause such scandal, and yet they give him a way out of London without any charges to his person, quite likely because it was the best Hennessy could manage to salvage under the circumstances. And yet still, Hennesy's words:

I would like to defend you. I would like to remind myself that every man has his flaws, his weaknesses that torment him. I would like to help you recover from yours. But not this. It is too profane; it is too loathsome to be dismissed. This is your end.

I keep thinking about what James tells Miranda in s1 re the pardon to go to Boston: "They took everything from us, and then they called me a monster." But who called him a monster? Given how quickly he and Miranda have to leave London after that confrontation in Hennessy's office, not to mention the way the actual affair with Thomas is swept under the rug, I highly doubt he had any more conversations about it except what transpired in Hennesy's office.

It is so much more devastating I think when someone says I love you but what you are is too vile, too profane for me to ever accept. Says I love you but I cannot accept you, and perhaps that is why what James hears Hennesy tell him is that he is a monster.

[amymbona]

Yknow how they say you're connected to every person in the world through just 7 people? I did some thinking and now I wanna show yall how I'm connected to Josh O'Connor!

Alright so I have (1) a friend on twitter who is really into mcyt and met (2) Jack Manifold on twitch con once. Jack Manifold went to see the Hamilton the musical production in London. There surely was (3) an actor/dancer/stage manager/anyone who's connected to (4) somebody from the American production of Hamilton. In the OG cast of Hamilton, there was (5) Ariana DeBose. Ariana knows (6) Mike Faist through West side story. And Mike, obviously, knows (7) Josh!

In conclusion, I'm basically dating Josh!!!

[jgroffdaily]

Interview by Jake Nevis, photos by Jenny Anderson - excerpts:

For Groff in particular, who’s earned a Tony Award nomination for his swaggering turn as the prodigious composer Franklin Shepard, the experience of starring in Merrily We Roll Along is provoking a tender sort of reappraisal of the wide-eyed, closeted 20-something who arrived on Broadway two decades ago in Spring Awakening, tending his own dreams. “There’s so many powerful parallels and I’m feeling the opportunity to release a lot of the tension I was holding at that time,” he told me earlier this month over coffee in Greenwich Village (just before showing face at a Tony’s luncheon). “This character feels like an exorcism of the lightest and darkest parts of myself.” With easy candor—and a charm not dissimilar to the kind he demonstrates in the role—Groff opened up about learning to live without shame and what Looking, the polarizing HBO series he starred in from 2014 to 2016, taught him about show business.

JAKE NEVINS: Hey, Jonathan. Congrats on your Tony nomination.

JONATHON GROFF: Thank you so much.

NEVINS: That’s exciting. How do you feel?

GROFF: Oh my god, I feel super emotional. I’ve been crying a lot these days. Last time I was nominated was during Hamilton, which was like seven or eight years ago. And I wasn’t in the show when the nominations happened. I had left to do a TV show. So this is the first time since Spring Awakening that I’ve experienced the intensity of awards season on Broadway while being in the show. I’m having a lot of flashbacks to being 22 years old.

NEVINS: What were your first encounters with Merrily in particular?

GROFF: Gideon Glick, who was in Spring Awakening with me, sent a text to the Spring Awakening text chain saying, “This documentary came out called The Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened. And it’s devastating and beautiful, and it reminded me so much of us. You all have to go see it.” So I watched the documentary about Merrily that Lonny Price made and was blown away by it. At the Hollywood Bowl, I had done Sondheim on Sondheim, where I sang the role of Frank in “Opening Doors” and Jesse Tyler Ferguson did “Franklin Shepard, Inc.,” so I knew the songs from there. Funny enough, we had just finished our Spring Awakening reunion concert, which was in the fall of 2021, and we were making a documentary about the concert and about the show. The Merrily doc was a big inspiration for that because of how they went back and forth and showed them as kids and showed them as adults. And then in January 2022, me and Jim Carnahan, who cast me in Spring Awakening 16 years before, were in a film club during COVID. After we saw 8½ at the Film Forum in January 2022, he said to me, “We’re going to come to you with an offer for Frank in Merrily We Roll Along. Do you know the show?” And I was like, “I know pieces of it, but I don’t know the show.” Maria’s production in London was on YouTube, so I watched it and I died for it. I just thought it was fucking genius, never having seen it and obviously knowing from the documentary that the show was originally a flop. So it took six months between January and June 2022 for us to figure out the dates. Dan [Radcliffe] was already attached to play Charley, and then Lindsay [Mendez] came on, and then we were off and running.

[Jonathan on reactions to Looking] And I was like, “Whoa.” That was when I started to learn the art of walking with an open heart and also protecting myself.

NEVINS: What does that look like?

GROFF: It’s like, having empathy and respect for the haters and honoring them and understanding that that opinion can exist and I can still be in my lane and express myself. Just because someone says it’s terrible doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth making.

NEVINS: Well, I’ll leave you with this. What’s the status of your inner voice? By all accounts, you’re living your dream, but I don’t want to draw any conclusions.

GROFF: This feels like it’s been a rebirth, a bit of a renaissance, and a release. It’s like I’m re-experiencing what I experienced when I was 22 with Spring Awakening, but now as a flashback, which is what Merrily is about. I moved to New York in 2004, 20 years ago. This show takes place over the course of 20 years. It’s about three friends. Spring Awakening was about these three characters. There’s so many powerful parallels and I’m feeling the opportunity to release a lot of the tension I was holding at that time. It feels like this opportunity to tap back into that 20-year-old I was and release all of the baggage from that time. I’m feeling more like myself than I ever have. This character feels like an exorcism of the lightest and darkest parts of myself.

NEVINS: An exorcism that ends with a Tony, hopefully

GROFF: Oh my god.

[oatmilkovich]

i don’t go here much these days but i’ve had a headache since last night from crying over losing gavin creel. 

losing maggie smith earlier in the week sucked, but she lived a long and full life. her legacy is forever. 

gavin is a shock of ice to the system. he was so young. he had so much more to give. i thought we’d see him on stage for decades to come. his influence on my generation of theatre fans is immense. so many young people working in the industry right now owe him so much. he workshopped so many iconic shows like wicked, hamilton and spring awakening, these huge iconic male roles would be nothing without him. aaron tveit posted about how when he was studying musical theatre, he wanted to be gavin creel.

he is a true legend of contemporary broadway. 

personally, i first met him when i was about 10 years old. i saw mary poppins on the west end and was so taken by the american guy playing bert — which i discovered during the bows as he made a speech about donations on the way out. a couple years later, he opened the book of mormon in london and i went to one of the first previews — and the obsession flourished. i always thought the connection of seeing him so young and his performance being the one thing i remembered from that show was so special. like a classic teenage theatre fan, i’d stop by the stage door whenever i got the chance and every single time he treated me with such grace and generosity with his time, making me feel so incredibly important. out of my friends, he was my broadway favourite, my performer. if you dig deep enough on my blog, you’ll find our selfies i’d post, the keyboard smashing, the joy i felt because of his work.

later, i got to see him in waitress and into the woods — and despite both being stacked casts, he was always the standout. he was still always my favourite.

this loss is huge. how lucky teenage me was, how lucky we all were. 

[ljblueteak]

Richard Hamilton Swingeing London 67 poster and Beatles 68 poster

Text from Andrew Wilson's Swingeing London 67

The [Beatles] poster, described by Hamilton as a 'give-away' print, was the result of a fairly complex design process that took about two weeks to complete, with daily visits from Paul McCartney, the one Beatle who worked directly with Hamilton on the project and who had prior knowledge, through[Robert] Fraser, of Hamilton's work--he had earlier bought one of the Solomon R. Guggenheim (1965) screenprints from the 1966 exhibition of the series that he had helped hang.

This relationship gave Hamilton the freedom to develop his idea for the poster and the whole design project without interference from the other band members, Yoko Ono, or the record company.

The poster shows George Harrison, John Lennon, McCartney and Ringo Starr as distinct individuals. This is in sharp contrast to the individual John Kelly portraits, in which the similarities of pose, gaze, and lighting, conforming to the aesthetics of of a record company's publicity department, portray them as members of a band.

The seemingly casual pinboard aesthetic by which these informal photographs were arranged was determined primarily as a solution to crucial design issues (echoing his decision to order the collage for Swingeing London 67--poster as newspaper columns, with headline at top left).

The sheet had to be folded three times in order to be inserted into the square album sleeve, and this obliged Hamilton to approach it as 'a series of subsidiary compositions. The top right and left-hand square are front and back of the folder and and had to independently stand as well as be a double spread together. The bottom four squares can be read independently and as a group of four. They all mate together when opened up and used as wall decoration.'

The top left-hand panel is what is seen first, and it presents the songwriting duo of Lennon and McCartney. Lennon is shown in blue light, singing. The image has probably been taken from a television screen, and the attendant distortion and blue glow are unflattering.

The image of Lennon overlays the bottom right corner of an equally unusual portrait of McCartney in a bathtub, his head half submerged, soapy suds giving him a halo. Running beneath the two portraits is a fabricated contact strip that includes an image of Lennon in front of one of his wall drawings; the band in a recording session...in which they are, unusually, playing brass instruments; and a colour image from the recording of 'Hey Jude' (1968).

This sense of fragmentation, of hidden codes and messages, echoes both the 'guarded privacy and locked rooms' and the 'disturbing, dreamlike darkness' that have been identified in the album, inviting the fan to imagine the band members' private worlds, and hinting at the beginning of the band's disintegration.

The dominant image of the poster's top right panel, opposite Lennon and McCartney, is of George Harrison. This portrait casts him in a mystical, otherworldly and contemplative light, with the right side of his face obscured and out of focus....

There are very few collective photographs of the band: playing in recording sessions or in filmed concerts; with Harold Wilson after they had each received the MBE; and a sequence of them doing the 'business' as they re-sign their contract with EMI.

Instead, the poster emphasizes the individual activities of John, Paul, George and Ringo around the time of the collage. Starr is shown with his co-star from the film Candy (1968), Ewa Aulin, and also dancing with Liz Taylor (wife of his other co-star in the film, Richard Burton). Lennon is shown becoming the working-class hero. Yoko Ono appears just twice: in a self-portrait by Lennon of the naked couple, and in an image of a naked Lennon sitting cross-legged in bed talking on the phone, as its stretched cord cuts her out-of-focus head in two--cancelling her identity.

Of the band, it is McCartney who emerges as the poster's dominant figure. Hamilton has said how The Beatles contains 'arcane touches which only The Beatles' more intimate associates were likely to smile at,' and yet such details--such as the doubled image of a shut door or McCartney 'pole dancing' both naked and clothed--are not at the cost of the poster's legibility. At its centre is the reverse of a photograph, a gift to one of the band, bearing a lipstick imprint and a groupie's imploring words: 'I love you.'

In all this, Hamilton's fundamental aim for The Beatles was that it should reach a large audience and be as accessible as the cover design was remote. This was not a new subject for Hamilton. My Marilyn had already adopted, three years earlier, the motif of the publicity photograph and the manipulation of celebrity image as a subject. What is different here is Hamilton's direct participation in popular culture: The Beatles, like Swingeing London 67--poster, shows him not only constructing work with a subject that revolves around the manipulation and production of pop celebrity imagery, but also inserting these works into the mass circulation of popular culture.

--Andrew Wilson. Bold mine.

[therobertfrasergang]

"You Are Here", Robert Fraser Gallery, 1968

John Lennon's first major art show together at the Robert Fraser Gallery in London, July 1, 1968

Among those attending were Richard DiLello (inflating balloons), Kevin Harrington, Steve Brendell, Alex Mardas, Derek Taylor, Jill Johnston, Jonathan Cott, Victor Spinetti, Paul Nicholas, Peter Blake, Richard Hamilton and many members of the British and International Press.

John Lennon: "We did a ‘Candid Camera’ film of it, of people’s reactions, ‘cos as you got to the canvas itself, there was just a hat to put money in for the artist. They all reacted to that (laughs) and a little bowl of badges, little teeny white badges that said ‘you are here’, very tiny, that they got. They put some money in the hat and they got a badge, you see... And it’s just a documentary, you know, it’ll be around."

This film is available on YouTube.

'You Are Here' film - from the preparation (30 June) and opening (1 July) of John Lennon's first exhibition You Are Here (to Yoko from John Lennon) at Robert Fraser Gallery, 69 Duke St., Grosvenor Square, London, 1968. Directed by John Lennon. By John Lennon for Yoko. Cameramen: William Waring & Dick Lorriemore. Starring: John & Yoko, Robert Fraser, Neil Aspinall, Derek Taylor, Richard DiLello, Kevin Harrington, Victor Spinetti, Jill Johnston, Richard Hamilton and a cast of hundreds. © Yoko Ono Lennon 1968/2024.

Robert Fraser: “The John Lennon show was very poorly received. Looking back on it, it did have a certain pretentious element. It was fun. I don’t know if it was art. It wasn’t popular.”

— Barry Miles, Many Years From Now (1997)

Bonus:

[tiofrean]

OMG I'm rewatching Black Sails and am once again assaulted by how in love with Silver Flint was and how Clueless TM Silver actually was. Like his conversation with Madi? About what he did with Flint? Silver: There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be.

Madi: I don't believe you. I don't believe this. Flint would have fought to the death before allowing it.

Silver: He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own.

And Madi is just grinding her teeth and shaking her head so subtly, because she KNOWS Flint and she KNOWS that's not why he stopped resisting. He stopped because Silver, dumbass extraordinaire, whom he loved so fucking much it hurt, decided to lock him up on a plantation, had the men and the brawn to do it, and Flint just gave up. He gave up because the only man that mattered to him now wanted him away permanently, and if that was what Silver felt then why would Flint fight a lost battle? If he believed for one second that Silver was telling the truth, he would have fucking teleported there to check whether Thomas is actually alive. But he didn't trust Silver and what he was saying anymore. So Silver's genius plan was equal to being cast aside by him to Flint.

So he gave up and stopped resisting, John, not because he believed you, you fucking dumbass. Now go and apologize.

[linnitheo]

Against All Odds (Part 2)

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Y/N’s POV

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. Lewis Hamilton had just asked if you wanted to meet up before he left for his next race. You stared at your phone, rereading the message multiple times to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. This was beyond surreal.

After a moment of internal panic and excitement, you typed back a quick response: “I’d love to! Let me know when and where.”

Your hands trembled as you hit send. What would you even talk about? How were you going to handle this without completely embarrassing yourself? Despite the anxiety bubbling inside, there was also a part of you that felt… calm. Lewis didn’t seem like someone who would judge you, and after the kindness he’d shown in his previous message, you had no doubt that this wasn’t just a pity invite. He genuinely seemed interested in getting to know you.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed again. “How about tonight? There’s a little place by the Thames that’s quiet. I could use the escape.”

You agreed, heart pounding in your chest. Tonight. You were going to meet Lewis Hamilton in person, one-on-one. The thought made you dizzy, but you quickly pulled yourself together. You had a few hours to get ready, and you were determined to make the most of this unexpected opportunity.

Lewis’ POV

Lewis sat back on the couch, glancing at his phone after sending the message. He wasn’t sure why he had reached out again. Maybe it was the way you had looked at him—like you saw the man behind the racing suit, behind the fame. There was something refreshing about that. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

As he stared out of the window of his London hotel room, the city’s skyline illuminated in the distance, he felt a strange sense of anticipation. This wasn’t like meeting fans at events or signing autographs. It was something more personal. He wondered what you would be like in a quieter setting, away from the noise of the crowd and the cameras.

Part of him felt guilty for dragging you into his world. He had seen the backlash you were getting online. People assumed things about you, about your motives. He hated that side of fame—the assumptions, the cruelty, the lack of privacy. He didn’t want you to get hurt just because you’d had a chance encounter with him.

But something told him this was worth pursuing, even if it was just for one night of normalcy.

Y/N’s POV

Later that evening, you arrived at the spot Lewis had mentioned—a quaint little café near the river. The warm lights from inside cast a soft glow across the cobblestone street, and you could hear the faint sounds of jazz music playing in the background. You spotted Lewis at a corner table by the window, dressed casually in a black hoodie and a cap pulled low over his face. He looked completely different from the man on the racetrack, but there was no mistaking him.

As you approached, he looked up and smiled, standing to greet you. “Hey, you made it,” he said warmly, pulling out a chair for you.

“I almost didn’t believe it was real,” you admitted with a laugh, sitting down. “I feel like I’m in a dream.”

He chuckled. “It’s real, I promise. How have you been holding up? I saw some of the stuff online. I hope it hasn’t been too much.”

You appreciated the concern in his voice. “It’s… been a lot. But I’m okay. I didn’t expect any of this to happen.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, looking out at the river. “I get it. I’m sorry you got pulled into it. People can be harsh when they don’t know the full story.”

There was a moment of silence as the two of you took in the peaceful surroundings. It felt strange, being here with him like this, but at the same time, it felt right. The conversation flowed easily, moving from the chaos of race weekends to more personal topics. You talked about your life, your job, your love for racing, and how you had admired Lewis for years—not just for his skills on the track, but for the way he used his platform to speak out on important issues.

Lewis listened intently, nodding along as you spoke. When it was his turn, he shared stories from his early career, about the pressure he had faced as the first Black driver in F1, about the sacrifices he had made along the way. He opened up in a way you hadn’t expected, and it made you realize that beneath the fame and success, he was just a person trying to navigate life like everyone else.

As the night went on, you both seemed to forget about the world outside. The hours slipped by unnoticed until the café was nearly empty, the soft hum of the city outside the only reminder that time was passing.

But just as you were about to suggest leaving, Lewis’ phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression hardening slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice taking on a serious tone. “Something’s come up.”

You watched as he quickly typed out a response, his face a mask of concentration. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. You had been having such a great time, and now reality was crashing back in.

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. “I understand.”

But Lewis shook his head. “It’s not what you think. There’s some drama back at the team—something about the media running with a story about us.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I thought we’d get away from all of that tonight.”

Your heart sank. “What kind of story?”

“Apparently, someone caught wind of us meeting up tonight. They’re spinning it into something more than it is. They’re saying you’re just using me for attention.” His voice was tight with frustration.

Your chest tightened. Of course, the media would twist things. You had prepared yourself for that, but hearing it from Lewis made it feel more real, more damaging.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you said quietly, feeling a weight settle over you. “Maybe it’s better if we don’t—”

“No.” Lewis cut you off, his eyes locking with yours. “This isn’t your fault, and I don’t care what they say. I wanted to meet you, and I’m glad I did. I’m just… tired of all of this. The scrutiny. The constant judgment.”

You were about to respond when the door of the café suddenly swung open, and a man with a camera stepped inside. His eyes locked onto you and Lewis, and before you could react, the flash went off.

Lewis was on his feet in an instant, his hand gripping your arm protectively. “We need to go. Now.”

You barely had time to process what was happening before he was leading you out the back door, into the cool night air. Your heart raced as you followed him down a narrow alley, the sound of footsteps behind you growing fainter as you turned the corner.

When you finally stopped, Lewis turned to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration and apology. “I’m so sorry about this. I didn’t think anyone would find us here.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline still pumping through you. “I knew this could happen.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

You smiled softly, taking a step closer to him. “I’m not scared, Lewis. I’m here because I want to be.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find something he hadn’t realized he was missing. Then, before you could react, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss.

When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect. But you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m glad I met you too,” you whispered.

And for the first time that night, the chaos of the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, standing together against all odds.

To be continued…