#second. ferrari. :))))) what. is. this. behaviour?? what is it boys do you not want a wdc?? do you hate charles? or are you genuinely this

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Ten

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R for smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Just the usual smutty behaviour, some of it happening in a public place. There's also a very brief mention of a car crash but no details are given. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : Billy is finally getting to take reader for dinner! So, yeah, that's kind of it. This is roughly the halfway point of the story, so thanks to everyone who's been reading and stuck with it this far, and thank you for all the lovely comments and feedback!! Also, OMG I hit 50 followers - I genuinely did not expect that to happen, thank you all so much!! 🥰

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE

Chapter Ten

You weren’t sure what to expect when Billy picked you up for dinner, but it certainly wasn’t a Rolls Royce (a Wraith to be more precise, as Billy enjoyed explaining to you when he caught you staring at the car). At least it wasn’t a bright red Ferrari, you supposed, but you couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable once you were sitting in the passenger seat. It was so expensive and perfectly cared for that you were scared you might do something to ruin it, like you weren’t even worthy of sitting in it.

Billy explained that it had been another impulse purchase, another big ticket item just because he could, because as a boy he’d always wanted a fancy car. Another expensive thing just to try and fill a void. You wondered how empty he must feel to need so many expensive and shiny things, but you didn’t dare ask.

In fact, you remained mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant, not wanting to distract Billy while he was driving. 

It wasn’t far, less than twenty minutes. He hadn’t told you where you were going, but once you saw the restaurant, you found yourself nervously playing with your sleeves. You’d never eaten there before, but you knew it by reputation; one of the best Italian restaurants in the state, and you had a good idea just how much it cost to eat there. Suddenly you felt underdressed in your black dress, suddenly you found yourself wishing he had taken you to Pizza Hut. 

Parking at the back of the parking lot, Billy killed the engine and, for a few seconds, you were too caught up in your own thoughts to realise that he wasn’t moving. 

His hands were still on the steering wheel, gripping it tight. It was something you were getting used to seeing; moments like this where Billy seemed to be fighting against himself, trying to hold himself back. You wondered if he was always like that, or if it was something he did because of you, because he was trying not to scare you. In the time you’d known him, you’d come to realise that Billy was a man of action, that he liked to do things without thinking and he didn't like to hold back when it came to certain urges - he’d called it poor impulse control, Krista had called it hypersexuality. You didn’t know what it was, but you liked to think he felt the same desperate neediness you felt whenever you were together.

“Billy,” you muttered softly, drawing his attention to you.

Your breath caught as he looked at you, his dark eyes flickering with a barely contained desire that had you wanting to crawl onto his lap. Clenching your thighs together, you tried not to think about all the things he could do to you, all the things you wanted him to do.

“We should go eat,” he finally managed, forcing an uneasy smile to his lips before getting out of the car. Before you could fully climb out of the Wraith, Billy was at your side, his hand extended to you. Of course, you took it and let him lead you into the restaurant, all the while smoothing down your dress, wanting to make sure you looked presentable enough to be seen with him. If Billy noticed, he managed to keep it to himself, he just gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he opened the door for you.

You stayed quiet as you were led to a table - that Billy had somehow managed to reserve yesterday, despite how exclusive the restaurant was. His hand left yours so he could pull out your chair for you and, still, you didn’t speak. You didn’t know what to say about any of it.

When the menu was placed in front of you, you really started to feel uncomfortable; there were no prices listed but, judging from the sort of things on offer, none of it was within your price range.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, though it was clear from the look on his face that he had some idea what was going through your mind.

“Nothing, it’s just -” you gave an awkward sigh, “- this place is really fancy...”

“Order whatever you want, I’m paying.”

“Billy -”

“I know, I know, you don’t want my money, and I promise I’m not trying to buy you. I just really like eating here and I think, if you give it a chance, you’ll like it too.” His shoulder ticked. “Besides I can either spend my money having a good time with you, or I can waste it on something dumb.”

You managed a laugh at that and, despite how awkward it made you feel, Billy probably had a point; he had enough money that he probably wouldn’t ever miss what he spent tonight, and you could at least try to make sure that he wouldn’t be left feeling empty at the end of it. You relented with a sigh and a nod, dropping your eyes back to the menu, though you still tried to think about what would be cheapest.

In the end you settled on pasta, while Billy ordered steak. Without much in the way of conversation, he also took it upon himself to order a antipasto platter for the two of you to share - which, you might have briefly felt uncomfortable about, but seeing the way he lit up when the food started arrive seemed to reinforce his point that he liked eating there, and you didn’t want to do anything that might ruin that for him.

And, you had to admit, the food was very nice. So much so that you were content to eat in relative silence for a little while. From time to time, Billy would ask you what you thought of the food and if you the wine that he’d ordered was alright - and it was, you could already understand why the restaurant was so raved about - but there was something almost shy about the way he was being. And shy wasn’t a word you thought you’d ever use to describe Billy.

It wasn’t until your main course arrived that you really started to notice, wondering if Billy just preferred quiet when he was eating, or if it was you.  But, regardless of his silence, every time you happened to look up from your food, you’d find Billy staring at you. The first couple of times, he’d smile before returning his attention to his steak

But, finally, you had to ask; “what?”

“What?” He responded, looking up from his plate.

“You keep looking at me like - like that.” 

“Like what?” Still confused, though he managed to give a little huff of laughter.

“Like you’re barely holding yourself back.”

“From what?” He asked, shifting in his seat, sitting a little straighter and leaning back in his chair, like he thought the extra inch of space it created between you could save him. You could tell just by looking at him that there was something he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. Was what he was thinking really that bad or did he just think you didn’t want to hear it? (Did he think you couldn’t handle it?)

You decided to lean forward, destroying the distance he’d tried to create. If you were going to do this, you needed Billy to understand that he needed to talk, otherwise you’d overthink every little thing until you tore it all apart.

“Like there’s something you want but you’re fighting against it?” You tried to explain. “I saw it in the car earlier, and the night of the gala; you get this look like you need to do something but you’re scared to do it.” You watched his face, taking in every little flicker of discomfort as his eyes searched your face, trying to figure out just how much you could handle.

“I told you, I have poor impulse control,” his shoulder ticked upwards, “I’m trying to work on it, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Who told you that - that you have poor impulse control?” You asked, but Billy didn’t need to answer, you already had a pretty good idea. The flash of unease on his face said it all; Krista. Your expression instantly softened, and your heart ached for him. “Billy, I’m not worried and I don’t need you to protect me from you. You don’t need to hold back when you’re with me. If you’re scared something might be too much you can just ask.”

“Sweetheart,” he started softly, a warm smile on his lips, “if I didn’t hold back, we’d never leave my bed.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” you joked and Billy’s gaze seemed to darken with want again. 

As much as you wanted to get to the bottom of it, you knew that it wasn’t something you could figure out in one night. Clearly there were bigger issues at play and, in a restaurant, on your first date probably wasn’t the best place to have this sort of conversation.

Your attention returned to your food for a minute or so before you looked up again, catching him staring again.

“Did you sort the thing at Anvil yesterday?” You decided to ask. “The security problem?”

“Not yet,” he answered and fell silent again, attention returning to his dinner. But, after a few seconds, he seemed to realise that you genuinely wanted to talk to him and that his being silent wasn’t conducive to a good dinner date. “I think Frank’s just blowing things out of proportion, it’s probably nothing to worry about,” he shrugged, “we get people poking around a lot, it’s just the nature of the business.”

“Oh, well that’s good, I guess?” You smiled, wanting to show that you appreciated the effort he was making.

“How was your day?”

“It was okay. Work was kinda crazy, but things always start to get insane this time of year,” you shrugged, chewing your lip and thinking for a moment before adding; “but I, uh, got some good news?”

“What kind of good news?” He set his cutlery down and reached for his wine glass, attention completely on you.

“Well, I know this guy who runs a little gallery in Queens, he told me he’s got an opening in the new year and asked if I wanted to put on a show.” It made you nervous seeing the way that Billy practically lit up at the news. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ve got anything worth showing at the moment, but it was nice he asked...”

“You should do it, I’d love to come see some of your work.”

“I’ll be sure to put you on the guestlist,” you laughed despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach; the new year was months away and you weren't sure Billy would even still be in your life then. (But seeing him smile at you made you want to hope that he would be.)

“Do you make any money from your shows?”

“Some, but not a lot; mostly just from the door but sometimes people buy things.”

“How much is some? Ballpark figure?”

“Ballpark figure?” You laughed. “You’re such a businessman.”

Bill let out a laugh of his own, shaking his head.

“Sorry, force of habit. It’s hard to switch it off sometimes.”

“Well, I guess some people probably find it incredibly sexy.” You smiled, watching the smirk grow on his lips.

“Oh, some people, eh?”

“Yeah, y’know, the kind of people who get all hot and bothered over men in expensive suits who drive fancy cars and know how to get what they want?” You leaned forward a little more, trying you best to sound seductive, despite the ridiculous grin on your lips.

“Yeah? What about you? Does it get you all hot and bothered?” He smirked, falling right into your trap.

“Nah, I like men who wear jeans and drive Toyotas,” you started laughing, and the look on his face was priceless. As much as he might have wanted to feign upset at the comment, Billy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a ridiculous laugh, and it was the most joyful sound you’d managed to pull from him.

“You’re such a tease,” he took a drink, though his eyes stayed fixed on you.

“Don’t worry, Billy,” you reached for your own glass and took a long, slow drink, “I’m prepared to make an exception for you. What you lack in fashion sense, you make up for in other areas.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he prompted, a hint of impatience in his tone, like he needed to hear you say it.

“Well, you have a very talented tongue,” your cheeks started to warm but the ridiculous smile stayed plastered to your lips, “and you have quite a way with words. And you’re very hands on...”

“And you like that, do you?”

You decided not to answer him, instead you made a point of returning your attention to your food before it got cold. Billy’s eyes lingered on you for a few moments more before he did the same. The game wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, but you needed some time to consider your next move.

After finishing your main course, you excused yourself, heading for the bathroom, as a terrible idea formed in your mind. You could practically feel Billy’s eyes on you as you walked away, and you could almost picture the look on his face as he did, that hungry glint in his eyes, the way his lips curled upwards ever so slightly whenever he stared at you. Especially tonight. Your silly games had gotten to him, but they’d gotten to you too, and it left you craving what would come next.

Standing in the bathroom stall, you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart but there was nothing for it. Now that you were doing this with Billy, now that you were finally willing to let him in, you were terrified in the most inexplicable way - it was scary how much you wanted him after so little time. But you did want him, and you wanted him to want you just as much.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you slipped out of your panties, trying not to think about the telling wet spot before balling them up in your hand. 

When you left the bathroom, your cheeks were burning; your free hand nervously smoothing down your dress, terrified that everyone would suddenly be able to tell that you weren’t wearing panties. Billy gave you a confused look as you approached the table, and it was almost enough to make you completely lose your nerve. You awkwardly offered your hand to him and quickly handed him the balled up red lace before retreating to your seat.

“What’s this for?” He asked, fighting back a grin, momentarily looking at the panties before shoving them into his pocket.

“They were getting wet,” you managed to answer, nervously biting your lips before adding; “they’re my favourite pair, I don’t want them to get ruined.”

“They’re my favourite pair now, sweetheart.” He smirked at you, a devious glint in his eyes. “If I’d known this was what you were doing, I would have followed you to the bathroom. I hate to think of your needy little pussy all wet and unfulfilled.”

“Billy -” cheeks burning, glancing around, hoping that no one could hear him.

He leaned closer, smiling softly as if the pair of you were exchanging romantic sweet nothings. You felt his ankle nudge yours beneath the table and your breath caught.

“What’s wrong? Am I making your tight little hole drip? Are you making a mess thinking about how my cock would feel inside you if I bent you over this table in front of all these people?” And, just like that, he’d turned the tables on you. You’d wanted to drive him crazy, but you’d underestimated him. He reached for you, his hand covering yours. 

“Is that what you’re thinking about?” You dared to ask in little more than a whisper, leaning closer.

“I’m thinking about crawling beneath the table and eating your sweet little pussy as my next course.”

You bit your lip again, thighs rubbing together beneath the table.

“I can’t wait to get you home.” He smirked, obviously noticing your discomfort and revelling in it.

“Does that mean we’re skipping dessert?” you asked, suddenly feeling breathless.

“No, I promised you dinner; it wouldn’t count if we skipped a course.” He kept smiling, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Your needy little pussy will just have to wait.” His smile got wider as you almost pouted. “Though, it's driving me crazy knowing how wet you’re gonna be when I get you out of here.

“Now who’s being a tease?” You squeezed his hand, giving away just how much he was getting to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, did I ruin your plans?” He asked with an unapologetic smirk. “Was I supposed to get flustered or did you want me to drag you out of here and fuck you in the car?”

You dropped your gaze, cheeks burning, not really having an answer for him; you’d just wanted to make him feel as out of control as you did.

“I appreciate the effort though,” Billy continued, “I like knowing the effect that I have on you.”

Your lips parted, about to say - you weren’t even sure what, when you were interrupted by the waiter bringing your dessert.

You ate dessert slowly, your eyes fixed on Billy, knowing that once you were done eating the rest of the night would begin. You both remained calm and composed, as you finished your meals, and as Billy paid the check. You pulled on your coat and slowly let him lead you from the restaurant, but things quickly changed the moment you reached the parking lot. 

It was dark save for the flickering of a single street light, only two other cars remained but Billy had parked at the back of the lot, out of the way.

By the time you reached the Wraith, his hands were on your hips, turning you to face him as he pressed you back against his car. He kissed you, nipping at your lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers gripped his tie, holding him close, surrendering yourself to him.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he muttered against your lips, “you got me so fucking hard with that little stunt with your panties.”

“Good,” you answered, your hand slipping down his body to palm his erection through his pants.

“You keep that hand there and I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions, sweetheart.” Billy groaned.

“You should be more concerned with what I’m gonna do to you,” you smiled, your hand releasing his tie and gently pushing him backwards so you could drop to your knees in front of him. Your hands started to pull at the fastenings of his pants, pulling his hard cock through the zipper. Billy gave a groan as your fingers ran along his shaft, his own hand finding the roof of the Wraith for support.

He was barely breathing when you looked up at him. 

You took a deep breath before leaning forward, your hand still gripping his cock while your tongue slipped between your lips.

You felt him twitch as your tongue touched hot skin, heard him groan as you ran your tongue from root to tip, lapping the salty sweetness that had already leaked from him as your tongue swirled over his tip. Lips trailed hot kisses up and down his shaft, smiling as he swore under his breath, and loving the marks your lipstick left on his skin. 

You wet your lips with your tongue before finally taking him into your mouth, pulling an eager moan from him. He reached for you with his free hand, fingers fisted in your hair, gently guiding you up and down the length of him, while your fist pumped the base of him.

Billy was completely yours in that moment. With just your lips, you’d rendered him speechless, helpless, and hopeless. The feeling of power was intoxicating; the way he moaned and shuddered and swore made you want more. It made you want everything. Your cheeks hollowed against him, tongue working along every inch of him, your moans vibrating around him.

“That’s it. Look at me, sweetheart,” he grunted as your eyes found his, staring up at him through your lashes, and the look on his face had moaning even harder around him, “I wanna watch you suck my cock.”

His grip tightened, his chest heaving with every panted breath. He was getting closer and you didn’t want to stop. You took more of him, managing to sink lower and lower with the encouragement of his hand, earning more desperate moans from him. Eyes watered when he hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t stop, you barely even slowed. Tilting your head a little, he slipped into your throat and you felt his grip tighten, but just a fraction. Billy was barely managing to hold himself back, you could see it in his eyes, in the way he grit his teeth. You almost wanted to push him, make him lose control completely, but you didn’t want him to take over. You were in control of the moment and that was how you wanted it to stay.

You heard your name and the start of a gasped warning before his hips bucked and his cock started pulsing, filling your mouth. Despite trying to warn you, his grip on your hair didn’t loosen. You kept pumping his length with your fist, swallowing down everything he gave you, milking every last drop from him until it was too much for him to bear and he had to gently push you away. You dropped back against the Wraith, knees protesting and aching, licking his cum from your lips, feeling very proud of yourself.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breathless as he forced his cock back into his pants and offered you his hand. 

Your knees ached from the gravel as you stood back up, but once you were up, Billy’s arm was around you, supporting you, holding you against him.

“Did you enjoy that?” You asked quietly, almost shyly, as if there was any chance someone else might overhear. 

“Sweetheart, I think I just about lost my goddamn mind,” he smiled, lightly pressing his lips to yours before reaching around you to open the car door for you. “I’m gonna show you just how much when I get you home.”

Your shaky legs just about managed to get you into the car, and Billy shut the door behind you. While he made his way around to the driver's side, you checked yourself in the mirror, and found your lipstick smeared around your mouth. As Billy climbed into the Wraith he shot you a very smug look before handing you his handkerchief. He started the car while you did your best to fix your makeup.

There was a relative silence for a while, and you were content to just look out the window at the New York City lights. You didn’t talk, again, not wanting to distract Billy. But it felt like there was something in the air between you, a tension, a longing for things to come.

He glanced your way a couple of times before his hand found your thigh, causing you to tense suddenly. The hand was quickly pulled back and the car was very quickly filled with a different kind of tension.

“What’s wrong?” He dared to ask, his attention fixed on you more than the road, and that just made things worse.

“Watch the road, please...” you awkwardly pleaded and, to his credit, Billy did as you asked.

An awkward silence filled the air for the next few minutes; he didn’t dare look at you so he didn’t see the way you were awkwardly pulling at the sleeves of your jacket, your eyes fixed on the road just beyond the windscreen. He didn’t look again until he hit a red light and the car had come to a complete stop.

“What did I do?” He asked.

You didn’t want to tell him, you weren’t ready to share that part of your life with him, but you’d agreed, hadn’t you? You’d told him that you’d stop pushing, that you’d tell him if he fucked up. And he had fucked up, just not in a way he could have anticipated.

“Nothing,” you answered quietly, “It’s not you. I - I was in an accident and, now, being in cars makes me nervous sometimes.”

“Is that how -” he didn’t finish the question, he didn���t have to. He put it together, at least part of it. Your scars had come from a car crash. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t know. I should’ve warned you.”

Whether out of respect to your anxiety at being in the car or just because he didn’t have anything else to say, Billy stayed mostly quiet the rest of the way back to his apartment, save for asking you if you were alright a couple of times and if you were warm enough. It was more than enough time to get over the awkwardness of Billy knowing a little bit more about you and, by the time the car was parked, you were ready to put it all behind you and continue the rest of the night with him.

He took your hand in his as he led you from the car to the elevator, your bag slung over his shoulder and holding you extra tight - you weren’t sure if it was meant as a reassurance or a sign that his patience was wearing thin. Either way, you squeezed his hand in return. His other hand, you soon noticed, was in his pocket along with your balled up panties. 

You found that familiar look on his face once you were in the elevator. He didn’t look at you, he didn’t dare, you just kept squeezing his hand, silently telling him that you were there, that everything was alright. The elevator dinged when it reached the penthouse and everything quickly became a blur.

By the time the elevator door had closed behind you, Billy had you against the wall, your legs around his hips and the bag with your things abandoned somewhere on the floor. His hands awkwardly tugged open his pants, dropping them to the floor before, thrusting his cock into your wetness. You cried out, straining around him, wet but not entirely ready, your fingers curling in his hair. He didn’t give you time to adjust or get used to him before he started to fuck you, roughly laying claim to you.

“This is what you get for trying to play games with me, sweetheart,” he all but growled against your lips. All you could think was that if this was the sort of punishment you’d get for playing games and trying to rile him up, then you’d have to do it more often.

Your head dropped back against the wall, moaning and completely at his mercy, losing yourself with every snap of his hips.

There was no holding back the inevitable and, soon enough, you were moaning his name as you came undone, and Billy soon followed suit. He kept you against the wall, his weight holding you in place as he came inside you, still moving until he’d completely emptied himself, leaving you feeling oddly triumphant. 

“See?” You panted, smiling widely. “I like your poor impulse control.”

His hand moved, gripping your jaw loosely with his fingers, looking at you like he was trying to make sense of something incomprehensible. You held his gaze, wanting him to see that you wouldn’t waiver, that you wouldn’t shy away from this side of him. Then he kissed you, softly, reassuringly, telling you a thousand things he didn’t have the words to say aloud to you.

He lingered against your lips as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him not because he was still inside you, but simply because you wanted to hold him. (How many people had just held him, you wondered.) Your fingers ran through his hair and you smiled against his lips. When he pulled back again, he still had that look, like he just didn’t understand. But you didn’t ask; it wasn’t your place to tell him how to feel, you just hoped he’d figure it out eventually.

Without a word, he lowered you and, once your feet were back on the floor, he was pulling you towards the bedroom so he could spend the rest of the night keeping you from sleep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

END NOTES : So, yeah this is about the halfway point with what I have planned (I've got about 20 chapters planned, unless any get too long and need breaking up) but now that reader and Billy are in a nice place with their relationship, it's time to turn up the angst. There might be some more triggering stuff coming up in the next part, so please check the warnings! Next part should be up same time next week.

As ever, thanks so much for reading!! I know I say this every time but I'm honestly just overwhelmed with the likes/comments/reblogs/follows, it really does mean so much to me! (I have no idea how many of you are real and how many are bots, but you're all great - if you're not a bot drop an emoji in the comments idk)

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (if it's not working for some reason... I honestly have no idea how to fix that but I hope it is working??)

TAG LIST

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[yesterdayiwrote]

in my opinion, i do think george could potentially get screwed over. but not in his seat is in danger type of way. i think toto wants max to come to the team for a couple of years before he retires and goes and does other motorsports like he has said in the past, then kimi will come in and take that mantle and george will be used as development for kimi.

this model he has in mind, screws over george's championship winning years/chances. toto and his golden boy dreams will be fulfilled and george will be used to make them come true. this is based off what toto is stating publicly, he's basically daniel ricciardo-ing his career.

there is also the chance toto is just chatting shit so people draw attention away from the fact that the car is even worse, lewis is leaving and pissed tf off it. he also making these bizarre offers to max because he knows it undermines lewis, very "i didn't like you that much anyway" after being rejected, like the man at the end of last year was saying things like how lewis is still the best driver in the world but this year he has completely changed his tune and glazing max at every turn. so maybe george is just in the crossfire of the toto-lewis divorce.

its still not right how he is undermining george in a way but i don't think george is stupid. rbr tp saying "maybe george wants to move post-2025" is just a comeback to toto but it is also interesting because we know that even if toto doesn't rate george all that much, other team principals do. if he potentially is even closer to lewis this year, that would be more than enough for him, george is fast, very loyal, pr savvy and inexpensive. even if he gets called pr63, he has kept his options and bridges unburnt for this reason because he does not have the luxury all the other drivers do with teams built around them. atleast with the max talk its only speculation i am interested to see how charles will develop into 'the predestined' because no way they brought lewis in with the promise of being second driver.

I was going to answer this in the morning, but I'm currently having a little 3am overthinking brain stint so I'm going to answer it now...

I think the thing is, bringing Max in isn't going to quell his desire to rush Antonelli in, because now they've rushed him into F2, you very quickly get the issue of 'what to you do with him to stop him getting lured away by another team', which means whoever is beside Max once he's theoretically their new golden boy, instantly becomes the new Valtteri, constantly looking over their shoulder waiting for the axe to fall. Right now there's not a whole heap of options to put a rookie as a placeholder, and Toto's already realised putting them elsewhere for 3 years is too long so... you're pretty much looking at 2026, maybe 27 at the latest for him going in that seat, if you decide to go that route.

And yeah, the other problem is Toto pretty much promised that golden boy spot to George, and is now suddenly offering it to someone who already has a golden boy spot elsewhere, which feels odd? Every other front running team is currently committing long term to their 'new generation drivers', so why suddenly is Toto sniffing around other people's drivers rather than doing the same with his own? It's just very strange behaviour from him, not that we've come to expect anything different from him these days.

And I would argue that actually... George has burnt bridges, even if he hasn't meant to. He's been so loyal to Merc, publicly said he wants to stay there now until he retires. Ferrari isn't an option now they have a hierarchy in place. McLaren also not an option unless one of their drivers gets lured away. He's always been cold on Red Bull. I'm not saying he'd never go if it was an option but I'm not sure they'd theoretically be wanting him given their kind of weird driver situation. And Aston... I mean I feel like it would be a good fit for him from a marketing perspective, but realistically with their driver situation and his history with the Strolls... I'm not sure how viable it would be as an option for him anytime soon either.

So then his options become teams that are probably a step back for him again, which I'm sure he'd consider if necessary, but aren't going to offer him what he wants at this point in his career.

I think the Max talk is speculation, and there probably is some bullshit from Toto going on, but I'm not sure what he's gaining from doing it? There's a non-zero chance of it happening and the fact it's being touted so publicly is a bit of a neg on George whether he intends it to be or not. I mean if I'm George, I'd be getting my manager to be putting feelers out to other teams anyway, or at the very least be demanding some kind of public commitment from Toto.

As I've said before, noone is ever 100% safe in motorsport, but the fact this is even a possibility or a conversation is a mad turn of events given the circumstances... I wish I could offer more in the way of 'it's all going to be fine, everyone needs to stop worrying' but honestly... I've got nothing.

[fullgazly]

just finished watching the race. yuki and ferrari giving me migraines again. thoughts for my neighbours who had to hear me raging at 1pm

[maudanouk]

ACT I - ABOUT VEIL AND IMAGE

EXT. GARDEN - DAWN

LENNY arrives at the WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE. Here is the garden and around it some flower beds, a space cultivated for flowers for Margot, to make a spray for her hair, to perfume the sheets.[2] The WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE embraces him warmly with its garden.

WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE

Every man must create it new and different out of himself: new and different. [3] Once on a June evening, in those long gone years when the ends of days sank into silence, I was waiting for a total eclipse of the sun on a terrace facing a garden, overlooking the foliage of a maple tree. [4] And I thought of you Lenny. In the sudden darkness I saw you, hidden behind a veil, the massive walls of the Vatican Palace. A faceless silhouette.

LENNY 

I have no image [...] because I am no one.[6] To become like everybody else; but this, precisely, is a becoming only for one who knows how to be nobody, to no longer be anybody. [9] And so, for my first adress the lightning was so dim, no photographer, no TV cameraman, and not even the faithful saw anything of me but a dark shadow, my silhouette. They did not see me because I do not exist.[10]  The prim speech imposed upon them, the lessons in good behaviour, the veil of mystery you profess to hang before their eyes, serve but to stimulate their curiosity. [7] In being everywhere and nowhere I was [...] the object of much social curiosity; people payed attention to this, spoke about it, remembered it.[8] Now that I am pressed on all sides, I maintain my equilibrium, because, no longer attached to anything, I depend on myself alone.[10]I love the immediate presence of him who is in possession of no space other than that in which I exist.[11] I keep praying for You to make something happen so why this awful, crawling feeling that nothing ever does? [11]I either hardly feel it, or don't feel it at all.[12] God does not shout. God does not whisper. God does not write. God does not hear. God does not chat. God's infinite silence...[13] I said to myself: Why should I strive to find what does not exist? [14] By extending myself precariously I exist, outside of the stability where the other subject remains asleep or dead. [15] And in the end I only thought of her[16], my Margot. I don’t know her yet but you will help me find her.

WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE (hesistates)

The new is born of the old; the new is only the repetition of the old.[5] What you’re looking for is a complete inversion. Again a mystery, a face that is not yours but this time it will not be no image but all image. The new self is constructed from a triple contingency: faith and doubt; hope that will be happy at an indeterminate time; bonds of unconditional Love.[18] When i watched the total eclipse of the sun that summer evening it soon became dark and an eclipse wind, like a wave, had risen when suddenly from the neighbouring house burst forth a sort of wild dance, with the strange, biting, astringent sound of Pan’s pipes. Young people were celebrating some festival, they had confused shadow with twilight and were playing as night fell. However much one knows about it, the veiling of the sun’s light is disturbing and transports one to another world. [18] I saw you cover up in darkness and now i see you longing for the unveiling of the sun. And in this twilight a party shall rise so that the heart, that obscure, celestial flower, undergoes a mysterious blossoming. 19]That is the only way great loves stories are born and I don't want any more part time believers.[20]

ACT II - ABOUT BEES AND HONEY 

EXT. GARDEN - MORNING 

LENNY discovers a garden in this Genesis, naturally, and in this garden only the apple tree interests him, tempts him: he can see its flowers.[21] He walks towards the tree. The WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE is observing him. As LENNY reaches for one of the blossoms a bee flies out of it.

LENNY

But how can i find my Margot in this city still so strange to me?

WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE

You have to understand what she likes. Margot is the bee and you are her honey. What does Margot like?

LENNY (looking at the flowers)

Margot likes wind in her hair and salt cristals on her skin, lace and hoodies, rings on her fingers and flowers in her hair, black panthers and partridges, walking barefoot on wet grass and wearing mid calf boots, day dreaming and ADHD, dancing underground and sleeping in white sheets, birch trees and skyscrapers, gel nails and knitting, smocking and drinking tee, equal rights and mini skirts, her birthday and celebrating christmas with her family, a Ferrari Portofino and umberella pine trees, Fellinis Roma and Mario Cart, Los Angeles and Palermo, seashells and pinecones, Zorra by Bad Gyal and playing the Bach Suite Nr. 1 on her Cello, passion fruits and rough fights, oranges and jeweled persian rice, fig trees and Coke, dry white wine and soft cheese, creaky parquet and soft carpets, stone basins and hot springs, ....

WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE

The mask does not hide the face, it is the face.[21] Your new face should combine all these elements to a story. You become invisible by making, on the contrary, a lot of noise.[22] [...] the veil of mystery you profess to hang before their eyes, serve but to stimulate their curiosity[23]. In being everywhere and nowhere [...] the object of much social curiosity[24] people will pay attention to it, speak about it, remember it. And I will be the embodiment of your story the place where all elements manifest in a happening. A great feast Margot will want to attend.

ACT III - THE INVITATION

INT. MARGOTS MURCIELAGO - AFTERNOON

A downpour of summer rain patters on the front window.  MARGOT is waiting at a red light. Her phone buzzes and she opens the message. 

TEXT ON SCREEN

My darling friends, there’s one spectacular party in the making! Join us tonight at the Wittgenstein House to another glass of white wine under the fig trees, eating fresh fish on soft carpets next to blossoming anthuries. Glowing cheeks from dancing till dawn. Bring a delicate, floating, spring bouquet of florets in new leaf green, cherry blossom pink, and marigold yellow[25] and we’ll serve everything else. XOXO EROS (Gossip Girl, Prince Charming, SHY GIRL, haha)

ACT IV - THE PARTY 

EXT. THE CITY INT. AVAS FERRARI PORTOFINO - SUNSET

The rain had stopped. The water evaporated on the hot asphalt and left a sultry summer evening air. AVAs car is speeding down the Ringstrasse. The roof of the cabrio is folded down and the wind blows through their hair. 

AVA (lost in thought)

Do you think EROS will attend the party today? I wish we’d find out who’s behind all this uproar. Maybe it’s one of our friends hiding behind a second persona. It would make sense because EROS seems to like all the things we do. 

MARGOT

Some weeks ago we’ve never heard about him and now he's everywhere.  Noise, ruckus, rumors spread.[27] I’ve heard the parties are supposed to be unique in its kind and his face, enveloped by a more or less dense veil[26] has sparked many suspicions. (sighs) I think he looks like Hauru, wearing drop earrings made of rubies and emeralds combined [...] dripping down[27] his lobe, a radiant boy [...] his blonde chin length hair making him the cynosure of all eyes.[27]

AVA shakes her head and starts laughing.

EXT. THE SITE - RADIATION INTO NEIGHBOURHOOD -  SUNSET

It’s dark but the garden is enlightened by the colourful lights emerging the windows. The WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE is radiant and reaching in all directions, emitting visual, audible and perceptible vibrations. The air smells of Un Jardin en Méditerranée. The Ferrari Portofino enters the SITE. AVA and MARGOT step out of it. Instantly they are surrounded by an electric atmosphere. People get chauffeured around in Mercedes Benz with Cristal champagne.[28] On inspecting the entrance facade, you can discover a series of metaphors and symbolic signs.[29] It would be too strong to call this fantasy a portal to Hell, but it is surely no entrance to a Heavenly Jerusalem[30]. AVA and MARGOT join the stream of guests walking through the garden towards the WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE greeting, kissing, hugging.

INT. THE ENTRANCE - APERO - THE FIRST IMPRESSION - SUNSET

The party begins as people are moving in, gathering in the entrance hall and taking a stand up cocktail.[31] There is champagne, caviar and fireworks.[32] Ahead, some distance from the entrance, is a great mural of brilliant color.[33] Opulent Ornaments, heavy textiles, reflecting surfaces. The materials come from the everyday domestic sphere, much having to do with ornamenting the body: copper and brass wire, buttons, beads, baubles, hooks, eyes, straps, false fingernails, makeup, hair, ribbons, lace, thread, shells, feathers, and bones. The amulets are fetishes, beautiful ornamental objects, and they are connected to the fetishism of architectural representation.[34] 

WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE (whispering to the YOUNG POPE)

This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. First Impressions are made. About me as the entrance always affects the following impression of the whole house and about you. Especially Margots first impression of you. I am preparing you, bit by bit, so that, at the desired moment, I can give you the final instructions and have it all fall into place.[35] 

MARGOT (whispering)

Ava! Look at this man sitting on the seashell sofa in the garden. He’s knitting all alone while everybody else is clinking glasses. 

AVA (teasing)

Why don’t you bring him a glass of Prosecco. I know it, I feel it, and you will say it.[35]

MARGOT (concentrated)

You just know me too well and yes, he is cute.

EXT. THE GARDEN - THE TALK ABOUT LOVE - SUNSET

MARGOT walks over to the LENNY carrying a glass of prosecco. Rising up in a warm haze, the innumerable modern statues towered on their pillars half way up the golden webs of sunset.[36] The garden is a collection of living beauties, rare Plants, exotic Flowers and Fruits. The trees are old and high and in between long white cotton cloths are hanging in the trees, blowing in the wind, rendering shadow plays. LENNY is sitting in the seashell sofa sheltered from the wind, warm sunbeams began to play, streams to flow, and groves of pines diversified the rocks. [37] MARGOT hands him the glass.

MARGOT (laughing)

Hello strange man, what are you knitting? 

LENNY

Some of the more exotic plants have to be taken indoors for protection from the cold night air and swaddled in thick woollen garments.[38]

MARGOT We have, indeed, become a flower growing people.[39] So you’re actually a textile and dress designer[40] for plants of all kinds. (laughs)

LENNY

When, on a summer evening, the melodious sky growls like a tawny lion, and everyone is complaining of the storm, it is the memory of the Meseglise way that makes me stand alone in ecstasy, inhaling, through the noise of the falling rain, the lingering scent of invisible lilacs.[41] Or when I reach out to touch a fragile tree and blossoming spicules float downwards and fade, each with its clear, tiny tinkle.[42] These are the moments I cherish most. I am in love with them and that is why I take care of them. 

MARGOT (hesistating)

But for me love is not only loving and caring. It fun when it starts getting way more complex. It is raucous, low, full, pleading, vulgar, sharp, cutting, jovial, harmonious, commanding, harrowing, seductive, explosive or irritated[...] noble, high pitched, servile, majestic, ample, sick, affronted, clothed in silence, echoing with the sea or forest, undercut by the twittering of birds, howling like a wild beast, [... ]asking questions and saying come here, an alarming voice, broken, sobbing [43]. 

LENNY (sighs)

Until now I’v only got to know a more one-sided monotonous love but thats another story. I’d be excited to get to know your kind of love.

MARGOT (excited)

Oh look over there! It’s a real black panther prowling through the peach trees!

EXT. WINTER GARDEN - DAWN

People are appearing in the open doors of the WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE following the excited call of MARGOT. People start bringing out plates with all kinds of foods. The WITTGENSTEING HOUSE opens all the windows that all the curtains flow in the summer breeze. A stone basin appears and now the air is filled by lapping and cricket chirping. 

INT. SALON - DANCING AND TEASING - NIGHT

After eating the WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE starts playing Promiscuous Girl by Nelly Furtado. Slowly the dancefloor is filled with curiously dancing people. Tossing their hands in a wanton and lascivious manner, rolling around, twerking. MARGOT catches LENNYs eye and they dance towards each other.

SPEAKERS

♪ Promiscuous girl You're teasing me You know what I want And I got what you need ♪

MARGOT (smiling)

Feeling a little afraid is normal when facing something new, in a place or in a way you’ve never experienced before.[44] You don’t look like you’ve ever danced before. SPEAKERS

♪ Promiscuous boy Let's get to the point Cause we're on a roll Are you ready? ♪

LENNY (laughing)

You’re not that wrong with this assumption but you dance the way you love, it seems. Raucous, full, pleading, vulgar, sharp, cutting, jovial, harmonious, commanding, harrowing, seductive, explosive.[45] SPEAKERS 

♪ Wait... I don't mean no harm I can see you with my t-shirt on ♪

LENNY takes MARGOS hand and twirls her around. SPEAKERS

♪ I can see you with nothing on Feeling on me before you bring that on ♪

[2] Serres, The Parasite

[3] Deleuze, Francis Bacon The Logic of Sensation

[4] Serres, The Five Senses

[5] Serres, Hermes Literature Science Philosophy

[6] The Young Pope

[7] Rousseau, Collected Works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

[8] Foucault, The History of Sexuality Volume 2

[9] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus

[10] The Young Pope, (Grammatics changed)

[10] Rousseau, Collected Works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

[11]  Serres, The Five Senses

[11]  The Young Pope

[12] Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations

[13] Aquinas, Summa Theologica

[14] Rousseau, Collected Works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

[15] Serres, The Five Senses

[16] Rousseau, Collected Works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

[18] Serres, The Five Senses

[18] Serres, Branches

[19] Hugo, Les Miserables

[20] The Young Pope

[21] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus

[22] Serres, The Parasite

[23] Rousseau, Collected Works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

[24] Foucault, The History of Sexuality Volume 2

[25] Kassinger, Slime

[26] Deleuze, Cinema 1 The Movement Image

[27] Serres, Troubadour of Knowledge

[27] Rand, The Fountainhead

[27] Hovestadt Buehlmann, Quantum City

[28] Hovestadt Buehlmann, Quantum City

[29] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968

[30] Frankl, The Gothic

[31] Schumacher, The Autopoiesis of Architecture Vol 2

[32] Carter, Anthony Blunt His Lives

[33] Ockmann, Architecture Culture 1943 1968

[34] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968

[35] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology

[35] The Young Pope

[36] Proust, In Search of Lost Time Vol IV Sodom and Gomorrah

[37] Wollstonecraft, Complete Works

[38] Proust, In Search of Lost Time Vol II Within a Budding Grove

[39] Gothein, A History of Garden Art

[40] Callan, Dictionary of Fashion and Fashion Designers

[41] Proust, In Search of Lost Time Vol I Swanns Way

[42] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology

[43] Serres, The Five Senses

[44] Del Toro, Cabinet of Curiosities

[45] Serres, The Five Senses