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formulatrash · 5 years ago

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Hey! I’m really new here and I understand if u don’t want to stir the pot by talking ab this but if not would u care to share the political views, blunders, and did-goods that go on with drivers in FE? I want to know just what kind of climate even the more progressive drivers are circulating in it that makes sense?

Hey anon,

I don’t think it’s really fair to pull them out on specifics - especially as these are things I know off the record, so this will be (mostly) without naming names.

Some of them have what I would call complicated politics. Di Grassi talks about this quite openly so I feel like it’s fair to say he’s socially liberal (and economically tech bro) but extremely nationalist when it comes to Brazil, so has a recursively odd tendency to, for instance, speak out against Bolsonaro politics in terms of climate change or whatever and then also to publicly support other of his policies. In Lucas’ case, I’d say that he is not a good political communicator - and that he trips up on a lot of cultural barriers in terms of trying to present his views on the internet, something drivers have very limited experience doing. In reality, I think he’s genuinely liberal but with this intensely knotted relationship to his family’s loyalties in Brazil and his own national pride and even he hasn’t managed to fully think it all through in a coherent way.

I don’t think any of the FE drivers are homophobic, although some of them would probably say things they didn’t realise were homophobic. The kind of thing that, unless you get decent contact time with us gays, people don’t unlearn and it wouldn’t be meant with any venom. I’ve called a few of them out on it, in the past and when they’ve realised what they’ve said they’ve stopped and apologised.

Some of them would probably call each other out on it, too - FE has a lot more openly queer people in the paddock and organisations than any other motorsport I’ve ever worked in and because there’s no closed doors and shut-off motorhomes, everyone mingles. It’s almost beyond parody to say the street racing series is more metropolitan but it just is.

None of them have ever said anything misogynist to me - occasionally their banter is a little bit locker room but they’re so pathetically not-jocks it doesn’t really land with any weight behind it. Male journalists, to be honest, are much worse.

I’d say, overall, the drivers think quite a lot harder in Formula E. I don’t know if it’s just that they’ve mostly had career knockbacks and complications or I think the open nature of the paddock does actually make a difference to how much they can be confined to a bubble. Formula E attracts different people and different crowds

One of them did allege I was the first LGBT person he’d met awhile ago and then when I pulled him up on it in a joke a few months later he said he meant the first openly, in a paddock, which makes more sense. (I had a super aggressively gay haircut for most of Season 4)

The younger ones, in particular, are quite sweet. I know there’s some sort of ‘Mitch Evans is cancelled’ thing because he made a bitchy comment about Carmen Jorda’s racing ability when he was 18 but a) fair and b) he’s 25 now - and probably one of the smartest and more thoughtful drivers on the grid. But he is still friends with Nick Cassidy, who still makes gay jokes on Insta - I’d guess Mitch has picked his battles on that one. Most of us have a few friends where we’re like “oh god no why does Tory Dave turn up to the pub every time” but Tory Dave also did drive you to hospital when you broke your leg at 4am so you just try and avoid politics when he’s around.

I don’t think any of them are raging pinkos but they definitely try to use their wealth and influence ethically, moreso than in some other series. In general, they are quite outward-looking and care about things - some impulsively or disproportionately but they are definitely people who take on causes.

They’re not ...hmm, how you say... woke but they are much more aware. I’m writing a feature at the minute about masculinity and enforced behaviour in motorsport, for instance and they’re open to reflecting on that. In the past, they’ve been open about talking about mental health and vulnerabilities, things you’d get savaged for speaking about in some series where everyone’s meant to be some emotionally lobotomised gladiator-god.

Actually to give them full credit, some of them are openly left wing - Alex Sims, in particular, springs to mind. (He supported Labour in the last UK election)

So basically: for fairly oblivious dudes who occupy a conservative world, they are extremely thoughtful and progressive. They will totally fuck up, though, because most of them are still taking baby steps.

A couple of them are just straight-up right wing but that it’s only a couple is quite a statement about the series.

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winterisakiller · 5 years ago

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Get Better - Chapter Seven

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 7/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list:@tinchentitri @theheartofpenelope @noplacelikehome77 @blacksuitofdoom @nonsensicalobsessions @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @just-the-hiddles @wolfsmom1 @theoneanna

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cath watched Tom as he jogged out the door towards the staircase, that stupid fucking curl brushing at the back of his neck. No matter what she did (and my god she tried just about everything), that stupid piece of hair refused to lay right. Why it bothered her, Cath couldn’t or wouldn’t let herself think on. It was stupid and she, it seemed, was stupid too.

“Not interested?” Lorna snorted, “My left foot.” She burst into laughter at the stern look Cath shot her way. “What? It’s completely obvious to anyone with eyes that the man is taken with you.”

Letting out a resigned sigh, Cath dropped herself onto the small couch-like chair in the far corner of the room. “Interested or not, it’s not a good idea.”

“And why ever not?” Lorna crossed the room herself and stood, arms crossed in front of her chest, brows furrowed in exasperation.

Cath rested her elbows on her knees and turned her face towards Lorna. “We work together for one. And relationships in the work place…Lorn, you know those don’t tend to end well. I like Tom, he is a great guy…”

Lorna rolled her eyes. “He is a great guy. Like genuinely decent and he is into you the way you are him.” She shot her a knowing look. “Yes, you work together and yeah, it’s not always the best idea, but do you really think the chance of it not working is worth not giving it a go?”

“It’s not as easy as all that. If he were a normal bloke…”

“He is a normal bloke,” Lorna cut in, “Albeit one with a slightly less than normal job…” she added with a knowing shrug. “And don’t look at me in the tone of voice, Cath. I know you and I know why you’re hesitating. But he’s not some conceited arse who’s after as much tail as he can get. You and I both have seen enough of that type to know the bloody difference.” She plopped herself down beside Cath, and wrapped an arm around her. “Just give it a go, the worst that could happen is it doesn’t work. And I seriously doubt Tom is the kind of person who would fuck with your career if things went badly.”

Cath shook her head. “No, he’s probably not. But still…Let me process this whole…” she waved her hands around searching for an appropriate term and, failing to find one, settled on, “thing on my own time.”

“Fair enough.” Lorna jumped up from the chair and held her hand. Cath took it and allowed her friend to pull her to her feet. “You’re still going to the pub, though.”

It took all she had not to groan. “I know.”

Lorna grinned. “Good. Just wanted to make sure that was clear. Now get your coat and let’s go.”

“But the suit…” She cut her eye to the dressing area. Tom’s suit would need to be hung and placed back on the rack. God forbid the damned thing wrinkled. She’d never hear the end of it.

“Cath, we are talking about Tom. I bet you twenty quid that man’s hung the suit up neater than you would.”

The snort Cath let out was far from refined and both women nearly collapsed again in a fit of laughter. “Fine. Fine,” she relented, wiping the corners of her eyes with her fingers. “And I’m not wagering on it.”

Lorna grinned. “Cause you know you’ll lose. Besides if it’s not, we can just steam it when we come in tomorrow.” She had pulled on her coat as she spoke and thrust Cath’s at her along with her small bag. “Now let’s go.”

Shrugging into her own coat (a dark green woolen thing she’d found in an Oxfam several years back) Cath grumbled under her breath as she followed Lorna down the stairs and out of the theatre. The crowd outside was far larger than either woman had expected. Hundreds of people lined the side of the theatre, separated from the actors by a small metal barricade. Dozens of others were on the opposite side of the street, phones out and chatting to one another. Tom stood, his strong back towards them, chatting and smiling with the fans that approached.

Cath stood, staring at the mass of people, until a tug on her arm brought her round. She turned her attention back towards Lorna who mouthed a “wow” before tugging her on the arm, leading them down the street away from the theatre and around the corner towards the bright lights of Piccadilly Circus.

—

Tom pushed the glass door of The Queens Head open and quickly made his way inside. It was cold out and he was desperate for the warmth he knew the pub would provide. He’d had the car his manager hired drive him a few blocks away from the theatre before he’d ask the driver to stop and had gotten out to walk the remaining short distance towards the pub. And ended up walking a lap or two around the surrounding area watching the later evening crowd wander from place to place, talking and laughing. It was probably not the smartest thing he’d ever done (Tom could and would admit) but he needed the air and the walk to try to help clear his head.

He was still jittery from the show and then later the crowd (while he’d known his fanbase to be...dedicated, he hadn’t expected such an influx of people, not when he’d been more or less ‘quiet’ work wise for the last year or so). And if he were being honest with himself, the almost…whatever it was with Cath back in the dressing room. What had he been thinking? Acting that way. Especially towards a colleague. He’d known better for christ’s sake. He hadn’t been thinking, that was the obvious conclusion. Just acting impulsively and had Lorna not popped up when she had…

“Oy! Tom!”

His attention snapped to the far corner of the dimly lit room. Charlie stood, glass raised, waving him over to the table he and the others had acquired. Tom laughed to himself, unbuttoning his coat as he made his way through the room towards the waiting group. The pub was full, but not overly so. Not at all surprising giving it was later in the evening on a Tuesday in the West End. A few people took note of him as he passed, but did nothing but whisper at companions or in a few cases stare, and Tom brushed it off.

“What took you so long, mate?” Charlie handed him a tumbler of whiskey as he settled in the only open seat. Directly next to Cath. Tom didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his luck.

He rested his elbows on the table top and took a brief sip of his whiskey, enjoying the burn of it as it slid down his throat settling in a tiny warm ball in his stomach. He took a breath and shrugged. “I walked for a bit, needed time to get my head back on straight.” Cath cut her eyes briefly towards him before turning her attention back towards Zawe, falling back into their conversation. There was something in her expression that he hadn’t been able to read. He turned his attention back towards Charlie.

Charlie nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Fair enough.”

The two fell into quiet conversation regarding the show and their respective reactions to the response they’d received; Zawe leaning over to chime in with her own opinion from time to time as she continued her conversation with Lorna and Cath. They’d received a standing ovation, something that never failed amaze him, though Tom had noted a fair few people sneaking out before official curtain call. Charlie and Zawe confirmed they’d noticed as well and all three touched on the lack of proper theatre etiquette in the general public with chuckles and sighs of exasperated amusement.

“You want another?” Zawe leaned over, picking up Tom’s empty tumbler and reaching for Cath’s equally empty wine glass.

“Sure,” Tom answered with a nod. He hadn’t realized he’d finished it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom watched Cath push her chair back and reach to take the glasses from Zawe. “Oh no you don’t. This here is to celebrate your guys’ hard work. Let me treat you.”

She shot Zawe a pointed look and with a laugh, the taller woman conceded.

“Fine, Richardson. Far be it me to turn down free drinks. But next round’s on me.”

Cath merely shook her head and made her way through the room back towards the bar.

“You stare any harder and your eyes’ll fall right out of your head,” Zawe pointed out, her voice snapping Tom’s attention back to the table. She laughed into her hand, eyes flashing in amusement. Beside her Lorna snorted into her wine glass.

Charlie shrugged and smirked into his beer. “She has a point.”

Tom scoffed, eyes darting towards the table before rising and locking on Charlie. “Just how much have you lot had to drink?”

Zawe snorted, “Not nearly enough to buy what you’re trying to sell there, my good man.” She reached across and patted Tom on the shoulder. “I may not be sober as a judge, but I’ve still got my wits about me and you, good sir, were making eyes at our lovely Catherine.”

“So what if I was looking at her, she’s a beautiful woman and I tend to notice these things. Doesn’t mean anything more than that.”

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” Lorna quipped, tipping her glass towards Tom and quirking an eyebrow. He shot her a withering look and she giggled in response.

“You think you are so funny.”

“Oh I don’t think, my dear man, I know.” She took another sip of wine. “And speaking of knowing…”

Whatever Lorna had planned to say was cut off by Cath’s return to the table. She smiled handing Zawe her glass of red wine and placing Tom’s whiskey before him. She sipped her own white wine and settled back into her chair. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing of consequence,” Tom answered, raising the tumbler to his lips and taking a generous sip. Both Lorna and Zawe raised their eyebrows at that but said nothing. “Thank you, for the drink.” He tipped the glass in her direction and smiled.

Cath nodded, raising her own glass in his direction. “Not a problem.” She took a quick swallow and stared quickly down the table. “Don’t all stop talking on my account, unless you’d like me to get irrationally paranoid?”

Zawe snorted into her own glass, took a sip, and placed it back onto the table. “Just debating the nature of attraction.” Her eyes cut quickly towards Tom and he fought to school his features into a neutral expression.

“Yeah, how people tend to downplay things when called out on them,” Lorna added.

“So Zawe,” Tom cut in, attempting to change the direction the conversation was steadily heading in. “Your book launch, that is next month right?”

Zawe narrowed her eyes slightly but played along all the same. “Yes it is. The third of April. You’re still coming right? I know Charlie here is going. And Lorna and Cath too.” If that helps cement your interest, her look implied.

Tom suppressed a groan, taking another sip of his whiskey, and nodded. “Like I would miss supporting my lovely, fictional wife.”

“Oh honey, I knew you cared,” Zawe cooed back with a laugh.

He reached across the table and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “Anything for you, my cuckolding dove.”

Both dissolved into fits of laughter triggering the rest to quickly follow suit and soon the entire table was enveloped in ruckuses of laughter. It took several minutes and more than a few disapproving glares from other patrons before they were able to calm. The next hour passed in a blur of conversation and laughter.

Zawe pushed herself to her feet, holding her empty glass up. “Ready for another round ladies and gents?”

“None for me thanks,” Cath answered with a shake of her head. “Strict two drink limit on work outings for me.”

“Work outing?” Zawe pouted. “I’m crushed you think this is a work outing.”

“I thought we were friends,” Tom chimed in. “You bought me coffee. That is like a sacred bond!”

“That was once,” Cath laughed. “And to be fair you sounded wretched on the phone that day, it was a moment of weakness.”

Tom tapped his fingers on the table and raised his eyes to hers, widened and glossy with unshed tears, hand resting over his heart. “I am hurt, I tell you. Truly hurt.”

Cath snorted, “Overdramatic much, Hiddleston? And for that you owe me a coffee.”

“How about tomorrow before work?” Tom had no idea why he’d blurted it out like that. And from the reactions of everyone else at the table, neither could they. Zawe, Charlie, and Lorna glanced from Tom to Cath and back before glancing at each other and taking sips of their drinks.

She paused for a moment, uncertainty flashing across her face, and Tom felt his heart pounding in his chest. No reason to be nervous, it’s just bloody coffee. “You think you’re so smooth.”

Tom leaned towards her and raised an eyebrow. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So that’s a yes then?”

Amusement sparked in Cath’s eyes. “Why not? I like my lattes with four shots of espresso and extra vanilla.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek briefly. Tom froze. That was certainly not what he’d expected. Behind him, Tom heard Charlie sputter into his beer and then cover the misstep with a suspiciously timed cough.

“So drinks?” Zawe called, her own laughter barely suppressed. Lorna and Charlie voiced their consent. Zawe jumped to her feet and clapped her hands together. “Alright. Back in a jiff.” She turned and headed off towards the bar.

“Well that wasn’t strange at all,” Cath chuckled, settling farther into her seat.

Charlie shrugged and took another sip of his beer. “That’s acting types for you. We’re an odd lot.”

“Funny, how could I have missed that?”

—

Bobby pulled on his lead, heading towards yet another copse of trees. Tom groaned under his breath and let himself be lead into whatever the damned spaniel had in mind. He was therefore unsurprised when Bobby began to bark explosively, sending pigeons scattering in every direction.

“Absolute menace,” he grumbled. “Absolutely bloody menace.” He pulled on Bobby’s lead, trying urge him back to the path. With great reluctance the spaniel left his frantic prey and trotted alongside Tom as they finished their morning run. The park was nearly empty, the early hour and the cold keeping most Londoners safe in their homes.

Two streets from home Tom found himself paused before Oak & Leaf Coffee. The siren song of caffeine called to him and he chanced quick glance at Bobby, wondering if the spaniel would behave enough for a quick dash inside. Large brown eyes locked with his and Tom let out a sigh.

“Tom. Fancy meeting you here.”

Cath stood by the shop door, dark hair covered in a brightly colored knitted wooly hat, scarf around her neck, ends tucked inside the opening of her green woolen coat. A quiet smile spread her face and Tom felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Her eyes darted from his face down to the pavement and he watched the smile grow slowly but infinitely wider.

It had been just over a week since the bar and save quiet, polite talk in the chair as she did his stage makeup, Tom had done his best to keep his distance. He liked Cath, far more than he’d truly let himself realize, and that had unnerved him. Add that to the way he’d almost…So he’d pulled back, slipping into the calm and polite mask he’d worn so frequently in the last few years. He’d seen the hesitation in her eyes during the first few days which slowly morphed into a quiet acceptance.

“And who is this handsome fellow?” She bent down, hand outstretched towards Bobby. The spaniel shoved an inquisitive nose into her palm and, upon finding her to his liking, began to lick at her gloved hand. The laughter such action pulled from her did nothing to calm the trip hammer that had become Tom’s heart.

“His name’s Bobby. And don’t let that face fool you, he’s an unholy terror.” Tom was pleased the comment came out as calmly as it had. His voice sounded even and remarkably together.

Cath chuckled and stood once more. “Of that I’ve no doubt. Especially given his owner.” She raised her eyebrow at him and Tom huffed in mock anger with only served to make Cath laugh harder.

Tom sighed and shot Bobby a commiserating look. “Such disrespect.”

“Only the best for my favorite grumpy actor,” she teased.

His grinned and raised his own eyebrow. “Your favorite, am I?”

“Eh, the day is young and I’m fickle.”

Around them foot traffic was beginning to pick up as more and more people began to brave the cold on their way to work, shopping, and other such tasks which couldn’t be put off indefinitely. Bobby stood, his gaze darting from passing cars and people to his master and the woman who held his attention. He whined slightly and tugged at his lead.

“Bobby seems to be keen on heading off,” Cath pointed out as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

“Keen to get into trouble more like. He’s probably spotted a bird or a squirrel and decided it’s his mortal enemy and therefore needs to be vanquished.” He clicked his tongue once and the spaniel reluctantly relaxed. “London won’t fall if one gets away.”

Bobby looked up, eyes wide, and Cath laughed. “He looks like you’ve just crushed his heart.”

Tom laughed. “He’s perfected that look since puppyhood. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving in.” He uttered that last words with a meaningful look in Bobby’s direction.

They slowly fell into silence. Tom adjusted his grip on Bobby’s lead and took a fortifying breath. “Would you like that coffee now? Vanilla latte with four shots and extra vanilla, right?”

Cath’s eyes widened slightly before she nodded. “That is correct. But if you are in a hurry you don’t need to…”

Tom shook his head. “No, no. I was just stopped here debating on seeking out a coffee myself and the wisdom of risking leaving this trouble maker tied to a lamp post so I could dash inside.”

“Well then, I would gladly accept the coffee you promised now. And if you’d like I could stay here and keep an eye on Bobby here while you dash in. I think I can manage to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

Amusement danced in Tom’s eyes and he nodded. “I’ll be back in a moment then.” He turned back towards the glass and wooden door of the coffee shop and pushed it open. His eyes closed in momentary bliss as the warm, rich scent of fresh ground coffee and sweet, buttery pastry enveloped him.

The shop was small, a few worn but comfy arm chairs lined the windowed front and the side wall of the room, with polished and sturdy wooden tables placed between. Soft light from the various lamps resting on the tables bathed the room in a warm glow. A handful of patrons sat sipping coffee and reading or talking quietly. Behind the glass and metal counter a bright eyed woman stood, her red hair pulled back in a loose bun and a warm smile on her face. “Welcome to Oak & Leaf, what can I get you this morning?”

Tom offered a warm smile of his own. “Good morning. I’d like a double espresso, two pain au chocolat and a vanilla latte with four shots and extra vanilla to take away.”

He ran his card through the chip and pin machine and stood to the side of the counter while she fixed the drinks and placed his pastries into a brown paper bag. Armed with caffeine and sweeties, Tom headed quickly back out into the morning chill. Cath and Bobby had laid claim to one of the metal tables near the storefront and both jumped to attention at his return. Tom placed her cup before her, bowing his head slightly. “Your latte, my lady.”

Cath stifled a giggle. “You are too much, Hiddleston. Too much.” She picked up the cup and inhaled, eyelids fluttering in bliss. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome,” he answered with a smile as he settled in the seat opposite. “And I’ve bought you something else as well.”

She quirked an eyebrow, leaning across the table as her eyes focused first on the bag and then back on him. “Did you now?”

Tom grinned and nodded, opening the brown bag and pulling out one of the pastries. He laughed aloud at the way Cath’s eyes widened at the sight of the warm delight and how she reached almost involuntarily for it. Placing it into her hand, he noted she pulled her gloves off at some point, Tom found himself watching as she picked the pastry apart bit by bit, savoring each piece. Absently, he picked at his own between sips of espresso.

“So,” Cath started, popping the last bite of pastry into her mouth and chasing it with a quick sip of her latte.

“So,” Tom echoed, passing his cup back and forth between his hands. A disgruntled bark from below them drew both sets of eyes towards the pavement. Bobby looked up at Tom, wide eyed, and whined. Letting out a resigned sigh, Tom looked up at the woman across from him. “I’d better get him home. I’ll see you at the theatre later?”

Cath bit her lip and nodded. “Definitely.” She reached across the table, taking one of Tom’s hands in her own and squeezing it lightly. “Thank you again.”

He smiled warmly at her, returning the squeeze. “It was my pleasure.” He pushed himself to his feet, his remaining espresso in one hand and Bobby’s lead firmly in the other. Bobby leapt up as well, pausing to lick at Cath’s offered hand and let her scratch him affectionately behind the ears.

They took off down the street towards home; Ton fighting the urge to turn back and look at her once more.

Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x orignal character #get better fic #Tom and Cath

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winterisakillerwrites · 5 years ago

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Get Better - Chapter Seven

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 7/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

CHAPTER SEVEN

Letting out a resigned sigh, Cath dropped herself onto the small couch-like chair in the far corner of the room. “Interested or not, it’s not a good idea.”

“And why ever not?” Lorna crossed the room herself and stood, arms crossed in front of her chest, brows furrowed in exasperation.

“It’s not as easy as all that. If he were a normal bloke…”

“Fair enough.” Lorna jumped up from the chair and held her hand. Cath took it and allowed her friend to pull her to her feet. “You’re still going to the pub, though.”

It took all she had not to groan. “I know.”

Lorna grinned. “Good. Just wanted to make sure that was clear. Now get your coat and let’s go.”

“But the suit…” She cut her eye to the dressing area. Tom’s suit would need to be hung and placed back on the rack. God forbid the damned thing wrinkled. She’d never hear the end of it.

“Cath, we are talking about Tom. I bet you twenty quid that man’s hung the suit up neater than you would.”

—

He was still jittery from the show and then later the crowd (while he’d known his fanbase to be…dedicated, he hadn’t expected such an influx of people, not when he’d been more or less ‘quiet’ work wise for the last year or so). And if he were being honest with himself, the almost…whatever it was with Cath back in the dressing room. What had he been thinking? Acting that way. Especially towards a colleague. He’d known better for christ’s sake. He hadn’t been thinking, that was the obvious conclusion. Just acting impulsively and had Lorna not popped up when she had…