#sorry to normal hungarians

[sysakiddo]

just Max with his cold intelligence and Daniel with his charming manipulation as diplomatic rockstars, living their best life in Paris

sequel of this 

Daniel has lived in many places throughout his life. He knew what it was like to wake up to the sun filling the room in Italy. He saw the cherries blossom in Japan. He learned to cook hundreds of dishes only using potatoes and cabbage in Eastern Europe. In London, he learned to predict rain by looking at the sky for a minute and seeing how the clouds moved. Daniel knew what made people in the US warm up to him, how smiley he had to be to seem polite but not overly so. He knew Australia like the back of his hand. Its seemingly never-ending bushes and the smell of dry earth followed him wherever he went. 

Daniel called their apartment in Paris home very proudly. It took ages for them to move out of their respective apartments in the embassies.

The building had no elevator, and because the apartment was on the fifth floor, Max bitched about it whenever he was made to come up with tote bags full of groceries. They agreed to stay in the 16th arrondissement even though it meant the neighbours scrunched up their noses whenever they heard Daniel's strong accent when he spoke French. It was easier for Max to pass as French. He never smiled at strangers like Dan did.

Max gets home first. Daniel insisted on going to a small grocery store on the corner of their street before coming up. The lights in the living room and kitchen are on when he enters. Max made sure all of them had warm lightbulbs. He did not believe in cold light.

The gramophone from the corner of their living room, last year's birthday gift to Max, is playing Schostakowitsch's 7th Symphony. Daniel got good at assessing Max's mood solely based on which music he chose to listen to. That's how Daniel immediately knows Max is in a good mood. He puts the ice cream tube on the kitchen table and tugs his tie loose.

He finds Max in the bathroom, already brushing his teeth, wearing only a white shirt and shorts he usually sleeps in. Daniel catches his eyes in the mirror reflection, baring his teeth in a wicked smile. Max spits out the toothpaste and Daniel crowds him in, slipping his cold hands under his shirt, making him flinch.

“I already showered.” Max bitches like Dan did not notice the water dripping from his hair onto his shirt. He still turns into putty under Daniel's hands when he pushes into his shoulders, bending him over the sink. He lets Daniel fuck him right in the bathroom. After, he grumbles and whines until Daniel rewashes his hair with conditioner and a massage.

He looks smug when he is reading a book in their bed later. He waits for Daniel to turn up in his pyjamas when he hears suspicious sounds from the kitchen. “What are you doing?” he hollers, sighing. Daniel is too restless for his own good sometimes.

He turns up a minute later with two small bowls in his hands.

It's ice cream, strawberry and vanilla. Max was annoyed that the restaurant they were in had only lemon flavoured one and ordered a crème brûlée instead. Still, Daniel heard 'of course the only legitimate dessert is ice cream, Daniel,'  whatever that meant, too many times to know Max wasn't content with the last course of the dinner.

“Here you go,” Daniel handed him his bowl. “You deserve it, eh? It went really well.”

Max nods, smirking a bit. “Oh, they absolutely hated you!” Cheeky bastard. Daniel rolls his eyes but doesn't disagree.

“They weren't thrilled about the idea of you being fine with putting your dick near mine, either.”

“Was it the wedding band that gave it away?” Max laughs wholeheartedly. He doesn't care, knows the meeting went well enough. He will have a good day at work tomorrow. They eat the ice cream in silence. After finishing, the older takes their bowls to the kitchen but doesn't put them in the washing machine. In his head, he can already see Max telling him off for it in the morning.

The lights are already out for some time when he gathers enough courage to finally say it.

“They offered China to me,” he whispers and in the quiet of the room, he can clearly hear Max's breath hitch. Max lights up the light on his side of the bed immediately, fully awake now.

“What?”

Daniel scooches closer to him, reaching out for his hand. Max pulls away wordlessly.

“They called me on Monday. I'd stay for four years, starting this August.”

Max looks white as a sheet, eyebrows twitching in confusion. “But-” he starts, then gulps audibly. Daniel hadn't seen him this perturbed in ages. “I. Uh. The Netherlands doesn't have a vacancy in Beijing for another two years.”

Daniel nods. He already double-checked. “Oh.” Max is freaking out when he gets it. He can feel his hands tremble and quickly shows them under his thighs. “You want to go without me.”

“No!” Daniel tries to touch his arm again, desperate to form a physical connection between them. “No, of course not.”

“But they won't give me the place now, Daniel,” he repeats. He never showed any interest in becoming an ambassador in China before. If he knew Daniel wanted to-

“What do you-” Max's eyes are wide and like this, he looks a lot younger than he actually is. Daniel feels a pang in his chest at seeing Max so vulnerable. “Oh my god.”

Daniel has had enough, sitting up and pulling Max into his lap.

“Stop freaking out. I just want to talk about it.” He snakes a hand around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. Max clings to him, scrunching Daniel's shirt between his fingers helplessly.

“How am I not supposed to freak out? You want me to become a fucking Julia Child.”

Daniel giggles, can't help himself. “Oh, baby,” he coos. “I'm not telling you to become anything. I am not even telling you I'm going to Beijing.”

Max huffs. “You would be a fool to say no.”

The thing is, though, what is there after Paris for him? They both reached their professional goals: they first met as freshly appointed ambassadors in Washington and were lucky enough to be sent to Paris simultaneously. Both Daniel and Max were two for two in other diplomats' wet dreams - the States and France on their CVs.

Of course, it was foolish of them not to talk about what would happen after they had to return. Max knew it but he was sure they had time, still more than a year before the dreaded date. In his mind, Daniel was prepared to finish his career on a high note. Max eyed Tel Aviv next, and selfishly, he thought Danny would look magnificent in the Israeli sun. By his side.

“I'm old, Max,” he says now. “I think this is the last chance-”

“Oh, fuck off, Daniel. Stop acting like you are a grandpa or something.” He knew what Daniel talked about, though. He would never say this out loud, but he considered Daniel's retirement after Paris a sure thing.

Danny smiles and runs his hands through the blonde's hair.

“It wouldn't be the worst, no? You being the ambassador's husband-”

Max rolls his eyes. “Well, who am I now?”

He sacrificed so much to get where he is. If his father found out he so much as thought about giving it all up for a man he still refused to shake hands with- Max physically recoils at the thought.

Daniel knows how crazy what he wants from Max sounds. “You hated Bejing when we went,” Max says, absentmindedly running his fingers along the tattoo on Daniel's biceps, the one he got in a small tattoo parlour during their stay there. They got robbed on their way back to the hotel.

He sounds so lost Danny squeezes him even more tightly.

“I hated Paris, too.” he shrugs. Max understands. The best part of Paris is the fact that Daniel is there.

He gulps again, the rational part of his brain finally kicking in. “That would make me. Unemployed, I guess.”

“I am not saying it must be like that, Maxy. We could switch after four years. I will surely retire by then. I would be the best trophy wife, don't you think? Grey and hot as hell.”

Max smiles despite being too shocked to do anything else than answer with a shrug.

Daniel kisses him goodnight. “We will figure something out,”

It takes him another hour to fall asleep. His dreams are full of the booming sound of Daniel's laugh, steely blue eyes filled with disappointment and busy Chinese streets.

third part 

[k1ngl30n]

But the stains are black -- just like your soul You tried to cut them out but you get left there all alone...

Sorry, it's their song, guys. I don't make the rules but I bet you wish I did

(I talk in the tags so if you want more, keep reading, lmao)

[tunguszka20]

Me, writing a dialogue in English: Wow, this is pretty smooth. Actually it looks pretty natural.

Me, writing a dialogue in Hungarian: How. Why. Why does it sound like that. Why can't I make it sound like normal people having a conversation. Why does it sound so unnatural. Wait let's try this— no, ew, that sounds so stiff. WHY can't I just make it like a normal conversation?? GAH I hate this

[littlegoldfinchh]

it's so funny how "noooo don't work stay home all day and don't go anywhere" turned into "write a CV NOW and also learn korean!:)"

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 12)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 12 and final part to the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

it's the first race you attend with Lando, the first time tensions are high before the race can even start, the first time your fears turn into reality because of course, it can never be easy. or can it?

word count: 6.5k tags/warning: mention of the 2022 hungarian grand prix, a lot of anxiety, alluding to driver!injury i think thats it

The end of July brought you to Budapest for the Hungarian Grand Prix. 

It was also the first time you attended a race weekend with the intention of showing up in the paddock with a driver other than Charles. 

You spent most of Friday and Saturday in the McLaren motorhome, but now it was the race. You weren’t going to hide behind the safety of the black and orange walls. You were going to be there, in the garage, to show your support for Lando. 

But you were not prepared for how extremely out of place you would feel.

You had never spent any time in any other team’s pit except for Pierre’s one time and even then it was because you lost a bet and had to wear Alpha Tauri merch for an entire weekend. You didn’t choose to be there.

You chose to show your support for Lando this weekend. 

He wanted you there, of course, but you also wanted to be there. 

You were standing in the booth at the rear of the garage when Lando approached you from the side, hand finding your back to give you a comforting touch before he reached for his balaclava. 

There were still a few minutes before the cars had to be wheeled out to their starting positions. Lando wasn’t in any hurry to get into the cockpit, nor did he like putting himself in a position where he felt rushed or uneasy.

You, on the other hand, felt uneasy. 

That wasn’t even the right word for it. You were stressed, anxious, paranoid, on edge, literally every single thing you shouldn’t be feeling before a race. 

Lando sensed it. Maybe it was the way you didn’t lean into his touch like you normally would. Or maybe he caught the way your smile was forced on his behalf, to make it seem like you were okay. Whatever it was, Lando knew you. In a very short period of time, he knew how to recognise what you were feeling.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, discarding the white mask on top of the booth as he rested his arms on the surface. He clasped his hands together after dragging his fingers through his hair, but his worried eyes met yours. “You’re more scared about the race than I am.”

You were careful to keep your voice down. SkySports was standing just outside the garage with a camera and for some reason those mic’s picked up absolutely everything. 

“Scared’s not the word I would use,” you spoke through a heavy inhale. You wished Lando’s loving gaze was enough to calm your nerves, but he wasn’t the only driver on the grid who had an affect on your emotions.

Lando nodded, “Feels a bit odd not standing in the Ferrari garage, yeah?”

“It just feels wrong,” you admitted. And then your hand went to cover his, eyes going wide when you realised the strength of your words, “I do want to be here, really. It’s just weird, is all. Like I should be there to talk to Charles before he puts his helmet on and tell him good luck- not saying that it’s a pre race ritual but in a way, it sort of is?” You huffed out an exasperated breath, hoping that what you were saying was making sense. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. It’s just weird that I’m at a race and I’ve said two words to Charles. Hi and bye.”

Lando turned his hands over to connect them with yours, giving your fingers a squeeze. He glanced down at his balaclava and then up at the screen where F1TV was playing. When the image changed from a close up on Lewis to one of Charles standing in the back of the garage, in a nearly identical spot to where you stood in McLaren, you both noticed the way Charles’ normally calm demeanour was replaced with one that, again, was nearly identical to yours.

“You know, I never really thought you two looked alike,” Lando muttered, but in this moment you could have been twins. 

The agitation was clear on both of your faces. Eyes glossed over with guilt and uncertainty as neither of you knew what to say to the other but both finding your lack of presence in the garage to be way too noticeable and foreign for your own good.

Lando looked at you, nodding his head in the direction of the pit lane, “You should go there.”

“I want to be here,” you told him. You were certain about that. 

“You don’t need to stay there,” Lando reminded you. He took a quick look at the screen. “There’s still a few minutes before either of us have to get in the cars. I’m sure he’d appreciate you telling him good luck.”

That thought had crossed your mind, just stopping by and returning back to McLaren. But if you did that, how would Charles take it? Would he see it as a pity pop-in? Would he think that would be your version of an apology? Even though you had absolutely nothing to apologise for. You didn’t know what would go through his head, but you could count on him somehow turning it around and blaming your quick hello as the catalyst if he were to have a poor race.

Lando sensed your hesitation and instead of trying to convince you further to go and say something to your brother, he gave you the opportunity to look at it from a different perspective. 

“You know, maybe Charles is thinking the same thing?” He told you. “It’s probably just as weird for him knowing that you’re at the race but haven’t said anything. I’m not saying you have to apologise, you shouldn’t apologise, but-” he licked his lips, eyes darting up to the screen again. “If you’re the one who’s saying he shouldn’t bring his personal problems onto the track, don’t you think you should do the same?”

That thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

A sliver of a smile teased the corner of his lips. “You can be a supportive sister and still be mad at him. Just like you can be my girlfriend and his biggest fan. You’re not trapped in a box. None of us are.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Girlfriend? Did I miss-” you pointed at him and then around the general area. “-did I miss something? Did a grand gesture happen?”

Lando rolled his eyes, leaning forward to bump his elbow against your arm before he nodded towards the pit lane once more, “Go wish your brother good luck.”

You eventually gave in and nodded. Lando took the bright orange headset that rested around your neck and placed it on the booth, making sure to brush his thumb across your cheek as he did so. You agreed, no annoying acts of PDA in the paddock, but he couldn’t help but find any reason to touch you. 

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him and you grazed your hand across his back, another small but simple gesture to show that you also couldn’t keep your hands off him, before you used the rear doors to sneak out of the McLaren garage. 

There were anxious butterflies in your stomach when you pulled on the door handle to Ferrari. The same last-minute chaos was present in the garage like usual, but it didn’t take long for you to find Charles, standing next to his car, chatting with Xavi. 

Strangely enough, when he spotted you, it felt similarly wrong to be standing in that garage. Like you didn’t belong, and you had just experienced that same dilemma in McLaren. You hated that feeling, as though you didn’t belong anywhere. 

But Charles didn’t ignore you. He didn’t turn back to you and leave you with that sinking feeling in your chest. He excused himself from Xavi and walked towards you, fiddling with the racing gloves in his hands. 

“I just wanted to say good luck,” you blurted out, like ripping off a bandaid. You said it, now you could leave. And you started to, you stepped backwards, ready to head towards McLaren again. 

Charles stopped you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, smiling a little. “You’re ah- you’re at McLaren?”

It was your turn to nod, “Yeah it’s less chaotic over there, believe it or not. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” When the end of your sentence flowed into soft laughter, Charles joined in, rubbing his lips to possibly try and hide that he found your words humorous.

You hated this, the awkward small talk with your own brother. 

His demeanour shifted, his shoulders tensed as he inhaled a sharp breath. Whatever was on his mind, whatever he wanted to say, he had been sitting on it for a while. Maybe since you left dinner so abruptly. 

And yes, you wanted to clear the air with your brother, but now was not the time to do it. Not when he was minutes away from climbing into the car. You both learned your lesson last time. 

“I’ll see you after the race,” You told him, preventing him from opening the door to a new conversation. This was the moment when you had to separate your brother from the driver and right now, he was a driver. 

Charles nodded as someone handed him his racing helmet. You wished him good luck once more and shared a smile before you made your way back to the McLaren garage, feeling much lighter now.

Lando noticed it, he noticed the lack of tension in your features as he reached for his helmet that was left on the booth. He gave you a thumbs up from across the garage and you reciprocated it before cupping your hand around your mouth and calling out a quick ‘good luck’ to him as well.

You were certainly feeling better going into the race, but it didn’t take long for the nerves to return.

As you watched the first few laps, you suddenly remembered why you gave yourself the no dating drivers rule. You were anxious enough as it was with your, somewhat, strained relationship with Charles, but as his sister, you still hoped for his success.

And now you were watching with caution every time Lando made a move as well. Everytime he locked up into a corner, every time he went in too deep, everytime his race was at risk. 

You didn’t like the constant back and forth, wanting to keep up with what both Lando and Charles were doing at the same time, holding your breath for each of them, feeling twice the amount of stress build up to the point where you thought you needed to vomit.

It didn’t help when at lap six, there had already been a yellow flag brought out due to a minor incident involving Yuki, but now you were watching the lap 12 replay of Nyck de Vries spinning out into the barrier. At first, you thought he’d be able to reverse and get himself to the pits but when the red flags were called due to the damage to the front portion of his car and all the drivers started to return to the pits, you felt even more anxious.

There would have to be a restart. 

Turn 1 at the Hungaroring stressed you out enough. You remembered the 2021 grand prix here when nearly six cars had to retire from an accident that took place at that first corner on the first lap. You thought that the drivers were all safe this time when no big moves were made and everyone made it through that corner without any damage.

Now they had to do it all over again. Elbows were going to be up this time, the drivers’ were undoubtedly going to make some risky, or dumb, moves. 

The red flag brought all of the drivers out of their respective cars. Lando sent you a thumbs up from across the garage, but that was about all he could give you at this given time. His attention went towards the mini impromptu briefing in regards to how to go about the last three quarters of this race.

You tried to tell yourself that, as horrible as Nyck’s red flag was, maybe it was the one incident this race would have. How likely was it that something else would occur? 

The twisting knot in your stomach told you not to get your hopes up.

You were watching the broadcast for a bit, trying to pass the time and not think about what could go wrong when you felt a hand on your waist. 

“Be careful,” you said, eyes filled with worry as you turned towards Lando. 

“Be careful?” he repeated with a chuckle, “It’s just a restart, everything’s fine. Car’s fine, I’m good, I just want to race.”

But you couldn’t explain it. Deep in your gut you just knew there was room for mistakes, that something was going to go wrong on this restart. These drivers were eager to get back in their cars and keep fighting and that’s when their margin of error grew. 

“Just be careful,” you repeated, pressing your palm to the side of his face, thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek. Lando knew better than to make a joke at this moment, seeing how paranoid you were and he just nodded before he was ultimately called away. 

That horrible gut feeling only grew when the drivers got back in their cars. You watched, holding your breath as they lined up in the starting positions, ready for the safety car to take them on a formulation lap.

When they were finally back on the grid, your heart was racing. Lando was starting from seventh. Charles in fourth. The red lights lit up one by one and then they were off. 

Max got off beautifully, even you could admit that, but that was maybe the only positive thing to take away from this restart. 

George nicked the back of Carlos’ car and sent him spinning. Lewis’ reaction time was fast and he avoided the Ferrari but he couldn’t avoid Checo who had locked up ahead of him right before turn one. Somehow, in this chaos, Lando managed to swerve to the side and narrowly miss the collisions. 

The same couldn’t be said for Charles. 

There wasn’t much he could do when the unfortunate series of events caused Checo to spin and block Charles’ Ferrari, colliding into the red side pod and sending car number 16 into the air before ultimately flipping upside down onto the gravel.

You watched with that painful, sinking feeling as Charles slid into the barriers. Very reminiscent of Zhou’s crash in Silverstone the previous year, but now it was your brother who found himself in this situation. Upside down in the cockpit.

And you had no idea if he was okay. 

It wasn’t like you were wearing one of the Ferrari headsets and could listen to Xavi’s radio message, asking Charles to confirm he was okay. You were standing in the McLaren garage, hand over your mouth and had to wait like everyone else. 

This was the moment you were referring to that night in Montreal. The moment when your world stopped.

You had to grip onto the booth, feeling your legs start to weaken beneath you. You just needed to know he was okay. For the love of god why hadn’t they broadcasted anything yet? Why hadn’t they announced he was fine? Why haven’t the marshals pulled him out of the car? Why wasn’t Charles climbing out of the seat?

These were the slowest seconds of your life. 

Your lungs were failing you. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your eyes were glued to the screen and all you wanted was to scream for someone to tell you that he was fucking fine. 

As you watched the broadcast, a close up on your face appeared in a square on the side of the screen. You had no idea you were crying, or that there was even a camera on you until Jolyon Palmer’s fucking voice pointed it out.

“...Leclerc’s sister watches on like the rest of us from the McLaren garage- oh and it appears one of the McLarens is also in the gravel, is that Lando’s car? I believe it is, but he’s not- he avoided the collision, didn’t he-”

Alex Jacques interjected, “He’s getting out of the car! Lando Norris is sprinting across the gravel towards the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc-”

His voice became background noise as you watched the scene unfold. Lando, who got away relatively fine with very little or possibly no damage, could have continued the race but he had gotten out of his McLaren and was now bent down next to the open cockpit of Charles’ car. 

Lando lifted his head, waving the marshals over who had taken way too long to show up, in your opinion. Or maybe you just felt as though they were moving slowly because everything else was. 

You saw Lando reach in and pull the steering wheel from the car and then finally, the black glove belonging to Charles grabbed onto Lando’s hand, needing his assistance to be pulled out from behind the halo. 

There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire McLaren garage, probably from the entire paddock honestly. Even as the marshals showed up, Lando refused to step aside. Even when Charles stood up, Lando kept his hand on the Ferrari driver's back and used his other hand to point to the safety car that was pulling up. 

Charles pulled his helmet off, even though he was most definitely advised to keep it on for the time being. As the camera focused on his features, it was impossible to miss how shaken up he was from that crash. He wasn’t angry that everything out of his control caused him to retire from the race, he was scared. 

His life flashed before his eyes, you couldn’t blame him.

He said something to Lando, nodding his head slightly and the tension lines in his forehead seemed to reside, just for a moment. 

Lando patted his shoulder, happy to see that a fellow driver was walking away from this incident with minor injuries. He’d have to retire, they both would. The second that Lando made the decision to get out of the car, he forfeited his race. It was one of the rules brought on by the FIA, one that didn’t even cross his mind. 

All he cared about was making sure Charles was okay.

Lando didn’t need to join Charles in the safety car, but he did and Charles was probably thankful for it, that a familiar face would be with him as he was being transported to the medical centre. 

You ditched the orange headset and sprinted out of the garage. The medical centre was just on the other side of the garages and you were certain you looked a little insane as you ran as though you were competing in a marathon, but you didn’t care. 

There was security outside the medical centre, of course there was. The drivers needed their privacy as they were being checked over, but you didn’t expect to be denied entry. Charles was your brother. 

“Oh come on,” you scoffed, sounding a bit frantic as you gestured to the doors. “He’s my brother! I need to make sure he’s okay, that he’s-”

And then the door opened from the inside and a very dishevelled Lando, still in his drivers suit, was standing there. He had heard you, it was impossible to not hear you with the way you were making a scene. He told the guard you were fine to come in and reluctantly, he stepped aside.

As thankful as you were that Lando was there to vouch for you, your attention was solely on Charles. You didn’t take a second to thank Lando for getting out of the car, you barely even acknowledged him as you ran down the hall to the examining room.

Before you could open the door you took a peek through the small window and saw him sitting on the edge of the examining bed. He was given the chance to change out of his drivers suit and opted for a baggy Puma shirt and sweats. He sat still as the doctor checked him over, answering the questions with head nods or quiet ‘no’s’.

You told yourself you had to be patient. The last thing he or the doctor needed was you barging in. 

You leaned against the wall and forced yourself to slow down, to really process what hell just happened in such a short amount of time. Raising your hand to your cheeks, you finally wiped away the last bit of tears that had been stuck in the corner of your eyes.

“He’s okay.”

Looking down the hall you saw Lando making his way towards you. His intention was to give you a few minutes alone with Charles before joining you, but when you didn’t go inside the room and instead slumped yourself against the wall, Lando couldn’t just leave you.

Lando reached for your hand and gently tugged you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

It was comforting and it was what you needed right now.

“He’s okay,” Lando repeated, hand moving to stroke your hair. “Everyone’s okay, he’s a little shaken up but he’ll be fine.”

Lando pulled back slightly and took hold of your jaw, titling your face up. He brushed his thumbs under your puffy eyes, forcing himself to smile in assurance despite knowing how traumatising this was, not just for Charles but for your entire family. 

Speaking of family, Arthur was the next Leclerc to run into the medical centre. Having been here this weekend as well for F2, he had seen it all as well. Not from the garage, he wasn’t there during the actual race, but he was still in the paddock and experienced the exact same feelings you had. 

Lando stepped aside, letting you embrace your brother, both of you taking comfort in knowing that Charles was going to be fine. 

“As-tu parlé à maman? Enzo?” Have you spoken to mom? Enzo? You asked, slowly feeling your trembling body start to settle itself. Enzo was somewhere in the paddock as well, usually he watched from the Ferrari garage but he was nowhere to be found now. 

Arthur glanced at Lando and then at you, “Enzo’s on the phone with maman. When he knew Charles was safe, he called her.”

“Good,” you nodded. Enzo was probably the best option to calm your mother down and assure her everything was fine. You were still struggling to come to your senses and Arthur seemed to be about as loss for words as you were. 

When the doctor stepped out of the room, she wasn’t at all surprised to see a whole family affair happening outside the doors. She simply told you he was all clear but needed to stay in the bed for the remainder of the afternoon just to monitor his symptoms.

All you needed was the go-ahead to see him and once you were given a thumbs up, you pushed past the doctor to tackle Charles back onto the hospital bed he was trying to sit up in. Arthur joined as well, arms going around both of your bodies as Charles patted you both, or at least tried to with his restricted movements. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Charles told you through a chuckle, “Je le promets, je vais bien.” I promise, I’m fine. 

“It was terrifying, mate,” Arthur said on your behalf when you both stepped back to give Charles some space to breathe. “Upside down across the gravel-” he shook his head, “You’re lucky, is what you are.”

Charles nodded, there was no denying how grateful he should be, being able to walk away with very minor injuries. 

“My radio disconnected, I tried letting Xavi know I was okay but nothing was going through.”

God maybe it was better you didn’t have a Ferrari headset on. If you had to listen to Xavi calling to Charles asking for a response and not getting anything back, you probably would have ran out to the track yourself. 

“Did the race start again? Who's still in?” Charles asked, of course he was concerned about the race. 

Neither you nor Arthur had an answer though.

“All I know is George somehow caused five drivers to retire, including himself,” Arthur said, and then he counted on his fingers. “You, him, Carlos, Lewis and Checo.”

“And Lando,” Charles added without missing a beat. His eyes went directly to you. You hadn’t said a word since you entered the room, but what was there to say? 

This was your biggest fear and it could have gone so much worse. You were too dumbfounded to hear that Charles was going to be walking away after this to even think about anything else.

And that included Lando. 

“Lando’s car is fine,” Arthur pointed out.

“FIA rules,” you said with a swallow. “If you get out of the car-"

"-you abandon your race," Charles finished, a sliver of guilt crossed his face. He didn’t ask for Lando to help him, nor was Lando even slightly involved. He took it upon himself to check on the Monegasque driver. 

“Is he out there?” Charles asked, glancing at the door.

Truthfully, you didn’t know if Lando had stayed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he went back to the McLaren garage. But when you opened the door and saw him sitting out in the hall, foot tapping against the floor, you put your hand on his shoulder and encouraged him with a nod to follow you into Charles’ room.

Lando kept his hand connected with yours, or maybe you refused to release the grip you had on his fingers, but his attention went to Charles.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Lando said what everyone else had been thinking this whole time.

Charles could have nodded in response. He could have said ‘same’ or ‘thanks’ anything, really. One word would have sufficed. 

But Charles looked at Lando and asked, “Why’d you get out of your car?”

The question wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t by any means upset that Lando did what he did. It was more personal curiosity, why would another driver sacrifice his own race? Why would Lando, someone who could have continued on and had a pretty successful race following the multiple retirements, stop his car and climb out?

“I think the better question is, why didn’t anyone else?” Lando answered, squeezing your hand. “Yes, we’re drivers but at the end of the day we’re just people. If I had crashed like that and no one came to check on me, I’d question the integrity of the grid.” 

Lando looked at you and then looked between the Leclerc brothers. All of you were wondering the same thing.

Would Charles have stopped for Lando if the situation was reversed? 

You prayed they would never find themselves in that situation again, but it was a question you would all be thinking about. Charles, especially. 

Lando didn’t stop for your sake. Sure, you were most definitely on his mind when he saw the way Charles’ flipped onto the gravel, but his thought process was not ‘I need to check on him because I’m dating his sister.’ Lando, in the goodness of his own heart, knew what needed to be done. He knew how terrifying it would be for Charles to hang upside in the cockpit, alone, probably anticipating impact from another car. 

Lando didn’t care about the race. He cared about Charles. Just like he cared about you and Oscar and Carlos and every single person he ever interacted with, had even the briefest relationship with. Lando was a good guy. 

He didn’t need to prove that to anyone, but he did. 

And Charles finally saw that. He could separate the driver from his friend. He could see Lando as a rival on the track and at the end of the day, still respect him as the person you chose to go home to.

“I really am glad you’re okay,” Lando said, a smile curling up on his lips. “I should get back to McLaren though- let me know if you need anything? I’m sure we both have to fill out incident reports or some shit.”

They exchanged a laugh and Lando leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before retreating out of the room. All of you waited until he was definitely out of earshot before Arthur was the one to break the silence, letting out the most exasperating breath ever as he gestured towards where Lando just stood.

“Are you still on your high horse or do you finally give them your blessing?” Arthur asked, earning a smile from you in response. 

Charles licked his lips, rolling his eyes in a very similar fashion to how you would, “They don’t need my blessing. They would have dated regardless.”

You nodded, agreeing with everything he had just said. Charles would not have been the one to separate you two. 

But it would certainly be nice to know he approved. It would be easier to breathe the next time you thought about inviting Lando to a family dinner. You didn’t want to have to fight with yourself when it came to choosing what garage to stand in during a race. You didn’t want there to be sides anymore.

As you stood there, waiting for Charles to say something that hinted towards him not having a problem with your relationship, it hit you that Charles was more stubborn than you gave him credit for. He would probably never give a verbal approval.

But his stare told a different story. The way he glanced at the door behind you. The realisation in his eyes when he thought about the way you leaned into Lando’s touch before he left the room. The look Charles gave you told you that he could see how happy that McLaren driver made you, that he knew there was no point in fighting it.

So he didn’t have to say anything, you knew. 

You stayed in that room for the rest of the afternoon, even though Arthur did tell you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you went and found Lando. Charles didn’t even tense up when he suggested it. 

But you stayed seated next to Charles’ bed, Arthur on his other side as you watched the race restart for the third time. Enzo joined you not long after and he sat down next to you, nudging your side and asking where Lando was, as if it was odd that he wasn’t there.

“I’ll find him later,” you said, but later would turn out to be way after the race when you finally made it back to the hotel. 

Lando had texted you just before the race ending, asking if you were getting a ride back to the hotel with your brother. He also checked in on Charles, making sure he was still, in his words, ‘alive and nowhere closer to the drivers championship’. Charles rolled his eyes when he read that text over your shoulder.

Lando knew how important family was to you, even during the uncertain times. That’s why he wasn’t upset in the slightest that you spent the rest of the race with your brothers. He could separate you, the girl he was waiting to call his girlfriend, from the girl whose brother was a Formula 1 driver.

He knew what he was getting into when he looked at you differently all those weeks ago, he knew he’d have to share you, that this would only make all three of your lives a little more chaotic, but he still looked at you.

And god was he glad he did. 

You returned to the hotel and told Charles to call you if you needed anything before heading up the elevator to the room you and Lando were sharing for the weekend. As you looked into your purse to find your room key, something on the carpeted hotel floor caught your eye.

A white flower petal. Just one. 

And then another just a few feet ahead.

And then a dozen more that you didn’t pick them up, but you followed the wavy line of them all the way to the door to your suite, which had been propped open by a deadbolt lock preventing the door from shutting all the way.

You pushed it open only to see full daisies attached to their stems on the floor this time, also in a line that you followed down the hall and around the corner. You were starting to imagine what was waiting for you behind the bedroom door, but never in your wildest dreams would you have pictured this.

Lando standing at the edge of a bed, not in one of his own Quadrant t-shirts for a change but a form fitting black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and just enough of his chest showing that you had to remind yourself there was more to look at. 

On top of the bed was a box of pizza, but it was flipped open and it was mouthwatering. It wasn’t some random box he picked up at a shop on the way back to the hotel, this gourmet pizza looked like it cost a pretty penny. 

On the side table were two glasses, wine glasses of course, but next to an unopened bottle of Perrier because Lando didn’t drink wine but you both had no complaints about sparkling water. 

Most importantly, in his hand was a bouquet of daisies, beautifully wrapped in brown paper. 

And it finally clicked.

“I thought I’d redo our first date,” Lando said quietly as you walked towards him.

The pizza, the flowers, the sparkling water. Everything that was in attendance that first night he came to your place, unannounced and unwelcome but somehow it ended up being the most beautiful start of these whirlwind couple of months. 

“That wasn’t a date,” you teased as Lando handed you the bouquet. 

“Agree to disagree,” same words too. 

Lando snaked his arm around your back, hand spread across the thin fabric of your shirt as he pulled you against his chest. You draped an arm over his shoulders, careful not to drop the flowers as two very similar smirks grew on both of your faces. 

Lando stopped himself from kissing you, instead letting his lips hover over yours as he quieted his voice, “Do I really have to ask?”

“Yes.”

He squinted, something he did when his smile grew. You loved the lines around his eyes, the creases in his forehead when he was undeniably happy. It meant so much more knowing you were the reason for his bright features.

Lando took a breath before your first and last name passed through his lips. His hand moved further up your back and even though you knew what was happening, your heart was still racing, in the way you wanted it to this time. 

“Will you-” he paused, rolling his eyes at how naive this all sounded, but he carried on because he knew it was what you wanted. “Will you, please, be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “Oh, you’re begging?”

Lando turned his head, “Okay, you know what, I take it back-”

Before he could finish the rest of that sentence you cupped the side of his face and pulled his lips to yours. Lando’s grip on your back pulled you tighter against his body as the daisies slipped from your hand and onto the edge of the bed. 

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” you muttered against his lips, kissing him quickly once more. 

Lando was blushing at your response, but his grin shifted into yet another smirk. One with an ulterior motive, one that had you slightly cautious.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you I only checked on Charles because I knew it would move me up your driver ranking?”

You pulled back and stared up at him, jaw slack as he held his hand over his stomach and laughed at his own words.

“I’m kidding!” He assured you, blurting that out before you could really question his motives. “I promise, I’m kidding. I really did want to make sure he was okay."

“Well now I don’t believe you,” you scoffed, but you only said it to get under his skin in response. 

You could tell when Lando was being honest and you could tell when he was simply making a joke. Granted, maybe now was not an ideal time to make a joke, but him being able to make you smile, even a little bit, after witnessing something as traumatic as Charles’ crash, was what you needed. 

Lando being there to support you, to be the shoulder you needed, to be someone who only had your well being, and apparently your brothers’ wellbeing, in mind, was all you ever needed. 

“I don’t think you’ll ever surpass my own brother on the ranking,” you admitted with a sly grin as he twisted a strand of your hair around your finger, tilting your face upwards again as he listened to your final ranking. There was some truth to it. Charles would always be up there, but there were never any rules against ties. “But you can share the number on spot with him.”

Lando licked his lips, “What about number one in your heart?”

Your head dipped forehead against his chest as you laughed at his words, more specifically how quick he was to get them out, like he was waiting for a reason to use that line.

“That was so cheesy,” you said, still laughing. “Like, horribly cheesy. I-should-walk-out-of-this-room kind of cheesy.”

And you pretended to, taking a step towards the door, careful of the daisies at your feet. But Lando didn’t let you go anywhere. His grip on your hand tightened and he pulled you back to him, where you both knew you belonged.

“You loved it,” he teased, his smile only growing at your eye roll. 

“I did,” you admitted quietly with a reluctant sight. “I loved it.” You took a breath, looking at the set up he had created in your absence. “I love this, I love-” and then your eyes darted up to meet his again. 

Lando Norris. The driver turned friend turned something more. In such a short period of time, he became one of the most important people in your life. His teasing, his jokes, his stupid driver ranking plan. 

He was someone, that from day one, you should have known you were going to fall in love with. Since the day he decided to make it his mission to move up your list of favourite drivers.

But it was okay that you weren’t there yet, that you looked up at him and choked on that endearing phrase, shutting your mouth instead. Saying those three words took time, trust, effort. This was still so new.

Besides, after working his way up from sixth to, a tied, first, Lando needed a new mission now anyway. 

And getting you to fall in love with him seemed like the perfect one.

-----

six months later

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynleclerc and 576,102 others

tagged: ynleclerc

landnorris happy 6 months to the girl who once said i was her sixth favourite driver

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ynleclerc i love u

charles_leclerc don't get too cocky mate you can easily drop back down the ranking

carlossainz55 remember when i was her second favourite?

pierregasly why is this the first i'm hearing about a driver ranking

ynleclerc because you were booted to last place landonorris just like the driver standings pierregasly 🖕🏼🖕🏼

danielricciardo i approve of this relationship

the end :')

thank u everyone for the support while this intended 6 part series turned in 12 parts ♡ i hope u all fell a little bit in love w lando norris bc i sure did - also make sure to check out my other work here (ps i cant wait to start a new fic hehe)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1@masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1@scarlettisconfused@sbgal@e-lisa-bettan@harrysdimple05@ophcelia@alesainz@fandomxs1@majx00@sbgal@mehrmonga@themockingjayreader@f1mockingjay@topguncultleader@lclrnelliluvs@moonxblossom@dr3lover@andrewgarfields-girlfriend@tsarinablogs@noescapricho-essentimiento@f1mockingjay@xqueenslytherinxif i missed someone im so sorry

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - part ten

THE GREAT ADMIN WAR

series masterlist

HUNGARY 2024

charles leclerc i'm sorry seb! you can't be mad at me.

sebastian vettel charles, you told the internet i had a crush on mark

charles leclerc but you did?

carlos sainz and you told them about his almost make-out with max.

ollie bearman we all saw that coming. i was around for mexico last year.

tony stark are you sleeping with the enemy leclerc?

charles leclerc no.

harley keener oh boy wait until this guy finds out who he is sleeping with

charles leclerc shut your fucking mouth keener!

tony stark i promised pepper i would stop being annoying

arthur leclerc WAIT- IS HE- OH MY GOD!

tony stark WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GET FROM THAT?

ollie bearman OH MY GOD! HOW IS HE THE GENIUS?

bianca stark-potts oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.

biancastark_potts posted new stories

me & bae

for context, this is what he sent me at 7:30 in the morning.

carol danvers added one person

wanda maximoff so he's bae now?

bianca stark-potts no? yelena belova she loooves him

kamala khan oh my god this is the best day of my life.

yelena belova that is a child.

carol danvers kamala is not a child.

queen shuri how old is she?

kamala khan i'm 16!

riri williams by the way, who's bianca seeing?

queen shuri charles

riri williams HER DRIVER?

natasha romanoff now that i think about he is exactly her type.

pepper potts goofy? michelle jones will most likely blush when she calls him a pet name? wanda maximoff flirts with his childhood rival? queen shuri green eyes? natasha romanoff exactly.

bianca stark-potts when have i ever dated someone like him?

yelena belova SO YOU ARE DATING?!

bianca stark-potts NO STOP IT!

kamala khan but she likes him!

bianca stark-potts WHO LET THE CHILD IN HERE?

carol danvers i have never been this interested in someone's love life before.

kamala khan that's because you were in space for the longest time and are now dating an asgardian. carol danvers KAMALA! kamala khan i'm getting the feeling that no one knew that.

natasha romanoff WHAT? WHO?

bianca stark-potts 10 bucks it's valkyrie

carlos danvers 10 bucks bianca's dating charles but won't admit it because she's afraid that natasha and wanda will do what they did last time.

wanda maximoff it was something perfectly normal to do.

bianca stark-potts YOU BROKE INTO HIS HOUSE! natasha romanoff and he ended up cheating on you so really, no regrets.

michelle jones does charles know that harry was the one who gave you the dog? the same dog who loves charles very much and that charles adores?

kate bishop OSBORN?

bianca stark-potts not my brightest moment

kate bishop EVERYONE KNOWS OSBORN IS THE BIGGEST DICKHEAD AROUND!!

bianca stark-potts HE WASN'T A DICKHEAD WHEN WE FIRST STARTED DATING!!

kate bishop HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A DICKHEAD! HE JUST TRICKED YOU!

peter parker heeyy, guess what i just found out talking to red bull's media admin.

isaiah atkins peter if this another genius idea to wage war against the other teams i will tie you against our hospitality.

peter parker that is aggressive. but no bianca's going to hate this.

harley keener oh this is gonna be good.

peter parker guess who red bull invited to the next gp.

tony stark oh no. bianca stark-potts i knew this was going to bite me in the ass when carol brought him up.

charles leclerc what are we talking about?

harley keener oh boy, i can't wait to see how this one will go down.

bianca stark-potts HARLEY SHUT THE FUCK UP!

tony stark seriously hungary of all places? why not miami or monaco? hell texas or vegas would be a better place.

tony stark can't believe the dickhead said yes.

sebastian vettel what the hell is he upset about now?

peter parker oh it's great, bianca's ex boyfriend is attending the hungarian grand prix with red bull. peter parker the same one who gave her the dog we all know and love

bianca stark-potts PETER!!

ollie bearman i thought you said a friend gave you that?

harley keener oh it gets better. he asked her out with the dog as a gift.

charles leclerc oh.

charles leclerc would you look at that i suddenly have something to do with my brother.

arthur leclerc we do? charles leclerc yes we do

tony stark what's wrong with him?

sebastian vettel how do you not get it?

peter parker i'm also confused.

ollie bearman you're both hopeless.

ex-boyfriend huh?

harry and i dated but i never brought him up because he cheated on me. it's just- it's not important

he gave you a dog when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

i asked you out using a lightning mcqueen meme that you posted on your story.

and it was very adorable charles. i wouldn't change it for the world.

i'm not asking for you to do extravagant things like harry did. usually when he did them it meant he was cheating on me again.

a dog is not extravagant.

and what do you mean again?

it happened like four or five times each time with the same girl. the only reason i found out was because nat and wanda broke into his apartment.

they won’t do that to me right?

they might?

my apartment is a mess! they can’t break in with it like that!

glad to know those are your priorities.

are you kidding me, it’s black widow and the scarlet witch, they can’t see my messy apartment!

charles, it'll be fine. i doubt they'll break into your apartment.

but if they do?

they won't.

what if they do?

i'll talk to them.

bianca stark-potts

kamala khan that's so adorable.

michelle jones and they call this man a terror?

yelena belova he was a terror. i've seen the videos

natasha romanoff now i want to break into his apartment to see how messy it is.

wanda maximoff this is all the confirmation i needed to know that they are dating.

maria hill she warned him about you two breaking into his apartment. they're dating.

queen shuri i can't wait to see tony lose his shit over this.

riri williams i can should've seen this coming. he's exactly her type. america chavez you've been around less than me HOW DO YOU KNOW HER TYPE? riri williams i read the groupchat america!

hope van dyne i was in a meeting what did i miss?

hope van dyne OH MY GOD!! SCOTT OWES ME SO MUCH MONEY!!

bianca stark-potts YOU BET ON ME?

hope van dyne we bet that you would end up with a driver and we were right! scott thought it would be logan or lando. my money was on verstappen or charles.

alex albon all those in favor of max releasing the mad dutchman on this osborn guy

max verstappen why would i do that?

lando norris isn't it obvious? because she's dating the platonic love of your life

pierre gasly he's the platonic love of my life! yuki tsunoda do i mean nothing to you? pierre gasly yuki, no, it's not what it looks like!

george russell max just do as we ask! take him out!

oscar piastri as a date or murder? lando norris either works.

lando norris notice how he didn't argue that charles is the platonic love of his life.

max verstappen charles is not the platonic love of my life. it's daniel.

daniel ricciardo i'll take him out. i'll do it for vegas 2019!

charles leclerc NO! NO ONE TAKE HIM OUT!

charles leclerc WHAT'S THE FASTEST WAY TO CLEAN A MESSY APARTMENT?

pierre gasly WE'RE IN HUNGARY YOU IDIOT!

charles leclerc I AM IN DANGER OF IT GETTING BROKEN IN BY BLACK WIDOW AND THE SCARLET WITCH!! SOS!!

george russell WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?

carlos sainz according to harley it's ritual to do with all of bianca's boyfriends.

max verstappen wait what does that have to do with harry?

charles leclerc oh so he's harry now? max verstappen christian said i have to be nice to him. something about him being some good investor but i couldn't care less charles leclerc take him out. max verstappen and why should i do that charles? charles leclerc ARE YOU KIDDING ME VERSTAPPEN!! HE- YOU KNOW- HE CHEATED ON BIANCA!! max verstappen and why is that important charlie? charles leclerc THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND YOU IDIOT! THAT'S WHY!

max verstappen BOOM! I WIN! PAY UP LOSERS!

pierre gasly NO YOU CALLED HIM CHARLIE! YOU CHEATED!

max verstappen I TOLD YOU LOSERS I COULD GET HIM TO CONFIRM THAT THEY WERE DATING!

charles leclerc YOU MADE A BET ON ME?

carlos sainz it's not fair, they didn't let me participate because i'm your teammate

oscar piastri can i let it be known that i didn't want anything to do with this?

logan sargeant LIAR! YOU WERE THE BOOKIE!

charles leclerc I TRUSTED YOU OSCAR!

oscar piastri it was either bookie or they were going to make me flirt with peter and figure out if he knew something.

daniel ricciardo i'm back what did i miss?

daniel ricciardo OH COME ON MAX GOT HIM TO SPILL THE BEANS BEFORE ME??

alex albon there is no getting in the way of lestappen daniel. it's time we accepted that. bianca should too if she's going to date charles.

charles sat in his room, frowning down at his phone nothing was worse than a 'we need to talk text.' his stomach currently felt like there were a million bees buzzing around in there. the knock at his door startled him and he rushed to open it, being met with the sight of of bianca. she smiled brightly at him, causing the bees to subside a bit.

"you wanted to talk?" charles asked. bianca noticed the scared expression on charles' face and her eyes widened, quickly understanding what charles thought there talk was going to about.

“no! this isn’t that kind of talk, i swear,” bianca quickly said.

“then what is it about?” charles questioned.

“can i come in?” charles nodded, stepping out of the doorway and opening the door wider, allowing her in. bianca gave him a slight smile, before moving to sit on the couch in his room. she sighed, “i owe you an explanation about harry.”

“no, you don’t,” charles said, as he sat next to her. bianca laid her head on his shoulder. charles intertwined their hands, “i do, and it’s the least i can do. besides, if i learned anything from that relationship it’s that honesty is always the way right thing to do.”

“okay,” charles whispered. bianca sighed again, “i met him at some charity event my dad was holding, when i was a little girl, before he was iron man. os corp was stark industries biggest rival, it still is. but somehow we were friends growing up.”

“romeo and juliet,” charles muttered. bianca laughed, “funny, my mom said the same thing. we- we didn’t start dating until we were 17, both of our dads were against it, but norman. norman saw it as an opportunity to show the public that he and my didn’t hate each other. i was a business opportunity to him.”

charles frowned, "that's not very nice of him."

"well he turned out to be a supervillain on another earth who hated peter. so fingers crossed he doesn't turn out like that here."

"what?"

"that's a wild story for another time," bianca explained, "but i loved harry. he was my first everything, except kiss. i lost that one in a game of truth or dare at a party when i was 13."

"hmm, i was kissed in front of a swing set when i was 9."

bianca laughed, "i loved him charlie, and he used it against me. the girl's name isn't important, although, she was very much aware that harry was in a relationship with me. the entire time we were together he was with her. 3 years of my life down the drain, wasted on someone who was never even worth it."

"i'm sorry chérie (dear) ," charles whispered as he hugged her, bianca burying her head in the crook of his neck, "you should've never gone through that with someone like him. maybe it was a good idea to convince max to take him out."

"like a date? or like murder?"

charles shrugged with one shoulder, "it doesn't matter, either works. although, i think kelly might be upset over the date one."

"and christian would upset when max ends up in prison for murder."

charles laughed and bianca giggled softly, "he's such a connard," charles said.

"i don't know what that means," bianca admitted.

"asshole. it means asshole."

"good," bianca said, "because he is one."

"we should- non c'est bête (no, it's stupid)," charles cut himself off. bianca pulled away from him, "no, what were you going to say?"

"it is dumb," charles said as he dismissed his own thoughts.

"it's not," bianca argued, "what is it?"

"we should- we should go somewhere over break. like as a couple. that is what we are no?"

bianca smiled widely at him, "yes we are, and we should. where are we going?"

"oh," charles said, surprised, "i did not think you would say yes. i have not thought that far ahead."

"it's okay. we can go anywhere. i don't mind."

"well i'm glad we are a couple because i accidentally told a few other drivers we were dating."

"charles, i called you bae, and wanda immediately caught on."

charles laughed and bianca smiled at him. she curled into him, laying her head on his chest. the stark-potts girl yawned, "can i take a nap?"

"yeah," charles whispered, "you can take a nap. i think i'll nap with you."

"i'd like that." bianca whispered as she closed her eyes.

SPA 2024

biancastark_potts posted a new story

il mio cuore, i do speak italian, despite what people think. (my heart)

liked by biancastark_potts, olliebearman, joaquintorres and others

scuderiaferrari it's a rainy one here in spa but we're glad to end the first half of the season on such a high note. it's another double podium for the ferrari boys. see y'all after the break! next stop: zandvoort!

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

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username this has literally been the best mid season ending ferrari has had in who knows how long.

username LET'S GO FERRARI!

username FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!

harleykeener LET'S FUCKING GO!

↳ harleykeener is this what red bull felt like last year?

charles_leclerc that's caption is not written by peter and i know it.

↳ peterbparker ISAIAH GROUNDED ME AFTER THE INNOCENT WAR I WAGED!

↳ charles_leclerc at least he didn't tie you to the hospitality like he threatened.

redbullracing free peter! he did nothing wrong but have some fun!

mclaren free our boy! he did nothing wrong!

mercedesamgf1 free our fellow admin! we were having fun!

username isaiah let our boy out of prison!

biancastark_potts and we've got another amazing half to go!!

joaquintorres can't believe i wake up so early to watch men go vroom in odd shapes.

↳ samwilson you're literally in the air force

↳ joaquintorres literally shut up samuel!

username this has been the highlight of the season besides charles winning monaco and carlos winning spain.

series taglist: @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @celesteblack08 @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @jensonsonlybutton @octopussesarecool @trouble-sistar @raizelchrysanderoctavius @meadhbhcavanagh @emilyval1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @mgmoore @blushmimi @vroomvroommuppett @scarletwidow3000

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¡leclerc-s speaks! okay, i needed to give bianca an ex but i could not be bothered to come up with a face claim or name for him so i just went with harry osborn. i know technically the osborn family doesn't exist in the main mcu universe but in my world they do. i also googled a fan cast for harry osborn and the most popular one was timothee so i went with him. please ignore any typos in this, i made this on no sleep because insomnia is a bitch.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: whenever you can would you be willing to write a piece about dominik and the reader being in the shy honeymoon stage of their relationship 🩷🩷🩷

Word Count: 1040 words

(author's note: my first dominik request !! i hope you enjoy it, my lovelies 🩷 i'm so sorry if you feel it doesn't match your ask, i've been so uninspired lately so i hope this makes up for my absence !!)

Anyone who looked at Dominik and Y/N would think they were a couple. They were inseparable. Being around each other at all times was normal for the pair, along with the subtle glances and their hands that were so often intertwined.

It was an average day for the pair. Y/N had gone over to Dominik’s house, eventually ending up in his bed, asleep in his arms. She couldn’t say she was surprised as it wasn’t the first time it had happened. Although the lines between friendship and romance had been blurred, the two adults still refused to address what was going on between them.

Y/N knew Dominik had training so she felt selfish for wanting to keep him tucked up in bed with her. Under the plush covers of his bed, wrapped in Dominik’s arms was her favourite place to be. He stirred softly, subconsciously pulling her closer to his body.

“Domi, it’s time to wake up. You’ve got training.”

The Hungarian grumbled, tucking his face into the side of her neck, clinging on to the last remains of sleep. He knew he had to wake up, but the bliss he felt in that moment clouded his rational thoughts.

“Five more minutes, it won’t take long for me to get ready.”

“No, you need to get up now. Your version of five minutes is more like fifty.”

He let out a laugh, now fully awake. He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head and got up out of bed. He pulled on his training clothes and busied himself with getting ready. He ate breakfast, packed his bag and brushed his teeth before jogging back upstairs to say goodbye to Y/N.

“Bye gyönyörű, I’ll see you after training, okay?"

“Goodbye Dom, see you later.”

He waved at her as he exited the room and then turned his attention to putting his training bag into the boot of his car. Getting into the driver's seat, his mind wandered to Y/N. Dominik wanted nothing more than for her to be his girlfriend. She was kind, beautiful, and outgoing. He could list her good traits for as long as time. However, the fear of rejection had sunk its claws into him, and he remained silent about his feelings. 

He pulled into the car park of the training facility and turned off the ignition of his car. He grabbed his bag from the boot and headed to the reception to sign in. Making his way to the changing rooms, he spotted Curtis walking ahead of him.

“Curtis wait for me,” Dominik said, catching the attention of the scouser.

Curtis stopped in his tracks and turned around. He stood still as he waited for Dominik to catch up.

“You alright, Dom?”

Dominik nodded his head and the pair continued the short walk to the changing rooms. Once they arrived they pushed the door open and began to undress to put on their training gear.

“You know, I’ve been planning on asking this girl out. She’s the new social media intern. Have you seen her?”

Dominik’s heart dropped. He knew exactly who Curtis was talking about and the idea of them getting together made him feel sick.

“Are you talking about Y/N? I think she has a boyfriend.” 

“Oh really? Who’s her boyfriend?”

“Me.”

Curtis’ face fell.

“Sorry Dom, I didn’t realise.” Curtis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of him. 

“Don’t worry about it. Not many people know.”

Training went on as usual. Curtis tried to stay out of Dominik’s way while the Hungarian was having an internal crisis. He didn’t even know where the claim that he and Y/N were together came from. He was so blinded by silent rage that his thoughts weren’t coherent. He just said the first thing that came to his head.

He had to make it come true. He knew that if he let Y/N fall through his fingers he would regret it.

Once the team had been dismissed, Dominik rushed to grab his bags and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. The journey home was short, but in that moment it felt like an eternity.

As soon as he was parked in the driveway, he sprung out of the car and unlocked the front door.

“Y/N? Where are you?” He urged, the adrenaline surge giving him the confidence to finally tell the girl he loved how he felt about her after so many years.

“In here,” she replied from the living room, “Is everything okay?”

Dominik strode down the corridor and stopped in the doorway of the room Y/N sat in and looked straight at her.

“We need to talk, now.”

Her eyes widened and she patted the empty seat next to her, signalling for him to sit down.

“What are we?”

“Dom, what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Are we a couple? Are we friends?”

Y/N looked down at her hands. She picked at the skin on her fingers and fidgeted. She had been in love with Dominik for nearly as long as he had with her. The idea of them being a couple was something she had only dreamed of and now that Dominik had brought it up, she didn’t know what to say.

“Dominik, I don’t know-”

“I’m in love with you. I have been my whole life. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but I can’t keep this to myself anymore.”

Y/N twisted her body to face the man who sat next to her. With trembling hands, she cupped his face and pressed her lips to his. Dominik was taken by surprise, but that didn’t stop him from kissing back as enthusiastically as he could muster. 

When they broke apart, Dominik smiled down at Y/N. 

“I think that answers my question.”

“I’d hope so,” Y/N responded, pressing a second kiss to his lips.

The silence that hung in the air was no longer filled with uncertainty and unsureness. It was filled with relief and reassurance. The silent agreement between the pair had been a long time coming, and both of them couldn’t be happier.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 24/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty-Four: Mindfulness/Movie Night

When Jim went back to work, Barbara decided to add a new element to Jason's training. Mindfulness meditation. Jason sat with her for nearly an hour, listening to a guided meditation before pausing the audio. "Barbara, I have a date in two hours," Jason whispered.

Barbara opened her eyes. "I'm sorry, what?" Barbara asked. Jason gave her a wide-eyed look just as he realized he hadn't told her about his date. "You have a date? Where?"

"Here... I meant to tell you. I really did. I just forgot. We're just gonna watch a movie," Jason replied as he stood up and stretched out. "Also, don't worry about dinner. I'll cook."

"You're gonna cook?" Barbara asked. "You know how to cook?"

"Yes, I know how to cook," Jason whispered. He went to the kitchen and washed his hands. "I'm making something easy anyway." He started cutting vegetables, and Barbara followed him, sitting across from him at the counter as he cooked.

"Jason, can you tell me who it is?" Barbara asked.

"I don't know if I can say... Pop doesn't know either," Jason reassured her.

"Oh no, I'm not jealous that you—." Barbara grew quiet as she noticed the grin on Jason's face. "Shut up," she laughed as she grabbed a julienned slice of bell pepper and ate it.

"Hey!" Jason laughed. He went back to cooking quietly, and Barbara looked at him, cocking her head. "What?" Jason asked.

"This is your first ever date, isn't it?" Barbara asked. Jason nodded without looking up.

"Is this not a normal date? Like is it obvious that I have no idea what I'm—."

"A date can be whatever you want it to be. Don't put pressure on yourself to do what's expected of you. You're just supposed to have fun," Barbara interrupted. Jason relaxed his shoulders. "What are you cooking?"

"You'll see," Jason whispered. Barbara squinted at him.

"You can cook?" Barbara asked once more.

"Yes, I can cook. Why is that so shocking to you?" Jason asked. Barbara shrugged and let him go back to cooking. Once dinner was in the oven, he asked Barbara to stay and watch the food while he showered and got dressed.

Jason came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. "Is time still good?" Jason asked.

"Fifteen minutes to spare," Barbara replied. Jason ran back to his room and straightened up a little. "Can I make myself a plate?"

"Sure, why not?" Jason answered from his bedroom. Someone knocked on the door, and Jason took a deep breath. "I'll get it!" He walked to the door, and Reese stood there with a tall, severe-looking man with white hair.

"Papa, see. I told you," Reese whispered. Mr. Polishuk said something in another language.

Jason answered the man's question and watched as a smile spread across the man's face. "You speak Hungarian?" Mr. Polishuk asked. Jason nodded and offered a sheepish grin before shaking his hand.

"Mr. Polishuk, would you like to come in?" Jason asked. Mr. Polishuk shook his head.

"No, I just wanted to meet the boy my son speaks so highly of," he replied, "It was very nice to meet you, Jason. Is your father home?"

"Oh, no. My father's working late tonight," Jason replied. Barbara took that as her cue to set her plate aside and come to the door.

"Hi, I'm his older sister, Barbara Gordon," she smiled as she extended her hand. Mr. Polishuk shook her hand.

Mr. Polishuk nodded at them before reminding Reese that he'd be back in three hours, and they parted ways. Reese followed Jason inside, and Jason asked if he wanted to sit down.

"Sorry about my dad. I'm still in the process of earning his trust back," Reese apologized, "And Ariel says hi."

"Don't worry about it. I made dinner," Jason whispered.

"It's good, and I'm gonna make my exit. I'll be in my room if anyone needs anything," Barbara replied as she took her plate to her room. Jason got up and made their plates, and he took a deep breath. "I forgot to ask what you wanted to drink," Jason whispered.

"Oh, water is fine... Jason, can I help?" Reese asked. Jason shook his head. Reese stood there for a moment before going to the kitchen to help Jason. "Sorry, I—. Wow, this is beautiful."

"Thanks," Jason smiled before confessing, "Reese, I've never been on a date before."

"That's okay," Reese replied. Jason expected Reese to say he'd never dated either. "Jason, don't be nervous... It's just me."

"That's why I'm nervous," Jason laughed. Reese nudged Jason playfully. They both sat at the counter and ate together, and Reese tried to find something to say.

"I didn't know I liked—. The fish is good. Thank you," Reese mumbled. Jason smiled.

"Thank you," Jason replied, "I uh—. I forgot to pick a movie to watch." Reese chuckled before catching Jason's eye. They made eye contact for an uncomfortably long time.

Jason turned his head and went back to eating. Reese hesitated a moment before going back to his dinner. Jason turned back to Reese, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. "Hey, Jason... I thought your last name was Todd," Reese mentioned.

"Oh, yeah. I'm adopted," Jason put his fork down, "It was a little while ago. It hasn't been a long time, but I've been here since I was twelve. Can I ask about the stepmoms?"

"He thinks we need a mother... He married my mom first, but she left when she found out about Ariel. Ariel's mom was his true love. She was pretty and sweet and the only mother I really knew. After my mom left when I was three, Ariel and his mom came to live with us. I never saw my mom again, so Ariel's mom was Mumma to us. She died when Ariel and I were ten in a car accident," Reese took a deep breath, "My father married two years after that, and after a year, they divorced, and he married Four. It won't last."

"Why do you hate her so much?" Jason asked.

"Because she doesn't love my father, and she's no mother. She's not a mother at all. At least Three didn't hate kids," Reese whispered, "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. I didn't know my mom wasn't my birth mom until after she passed. But now I'm not sure if my birth mom is alive at all," Jason confessed, "And if she is alive, I don't know if I'll want to find her... I mean, of course, I do, but I don't want to give up this family."

"Do you look like her?" Reese asked.

"In some ways, yeah... But, mostly, I just look like my father," Jason replied. They finished eating dinner, and Reese helped him wash the dishes and put away the leftovers. By the time they got around to watching the movie, Jason was half-asleep. He lay his head on Reese's shoulder as they sat.

Reese took Jason's hand and locked their fingers together before resting their hands on his knee. Jason smiled and sat with his feet on the couch. He closed his eyes, and Reese whispered something that Jason wasn't awake enough to hear. When Jason woke up, the movie was over, but Reese was still holding his hand. "Reese, I'm sorry—."

"It's okay. This was the best date I've ever had," Reese whispered. Jason smiled. "Do you maybe wanna do this again? At my house next time?"

Jason nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that'd be nice," Jason whispered, "Oh, um... I'm still holding your hand, aren't I?" Reese nodded, still making eye contact with Jason.

"You're the first boy I ever liked," Reese confessed. Jason's face went red, and he turned away. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Jason whispered as he tried to collect himself. "I'm just a little surprised..."

The door opened, and Jim grabbed hung up his coat. "Hi, Pop... Remember Reese?" Jason asked. Jim shook Reese's hand.

"Nice to see you again, Reese. I'm just gonna make myself something to eat, and I'll make myself scarce—."

"I made you dinner. It's in the fridge," Jason interrupted. Jim smiled.

"Thank you," Jim replied as he made his plate and popped it in the microwave.

Reese leaned over to whisper, "You sure your dad doesn't mind?" Jason took Reese's hand.

Jason changed the channel and nodded as he rested his head on Reese's shoulder. "It's fine, Reese," Jason whispered. He sat there with Reese until Mr. Polishuk rang the doorbell. Reese stood up and lingered a moment before pressing a kiss to Jason's cheek. Jason touched his cheek and offered a nervous, near-silent laugh. Jim set his dinner aside and answered the door, and introduced himself to Mr. Polishuk.

Soon after Mr. Polishuk and Reese left, Jim nudged Jason. "So, how'd your date go?" Jim asked.

"I slept through the entire movie," Jason groaned out of embarrassment. Jim chuckled. "But he did hold my hand. He—. Pop, he kissed me... He kissed me on my cheek," Jason smiled as his hand strayed back to his cheek.

[lacontroller1991]

Fluff/WhumpTOBER Day 1: Edward Teller x F!Reader

Day 1: Lost Pet Meet/Race Against the Clock Masterlist

Warnings: General Audience, language Word Count: 710 Author's Note: Based off of Benny Safdie's Edward Teller

The sun is warm on Teller’s face as he lets out a sigh in content. It’s been a rough few weeks of work for the Hungarian theorist and a stroll in the park seemed like a good idea. And it is. The bay breeze gently blows on his body, messing with his hair as he sits there in silence.

“Buddy!” His blue eyes snap open. So much for quiet, he thinks to himself in annoyance. He just wanted one day where he could have a minute of peace. “Dang it! Buddy! Get back here! Come here boy!” The next thing Ede knows is that there is a dog on his lap, licking his face. Teller closes his eyes and turns his head away, trying to push the dog down. “Oh my goodness. I am so, so sorry.” The person comments, the weight of the dog being lifted off of Teller as it barks, the owner attempting to hush it. “Damnit Buddy. I can’t trust you. You’re staying ON your leash.” Teller hears the faint click of a leash before opening his blue eyes and turning to the woman, who has a brown stain all down her front. “I am so sorry sir. This dog has a mind of his own.”

Teller’s eyes roam her body up and down, taking in her appearance. Along with the dark stain, the person in front of him sports a crazed look in her eyes and messy hair. It’s clear that the dog had taken you for a walk, and not the other way around. “It’s alright. First time walking a dog?” The girl tilts her head, squatting down to rub the ears of her dog. 

“Heh, no. Normally Buddy is very well behaved, and normally Buddy doesn’t take to strangers, let alone jump in their lap and lick their face, so I have no clue what his deal is.”

That name sounds… familiar. Squinting his eyes, Teller looks down at the dog. A beautiful shepherd with a luscious fur coat and a ridiculous collar that Teller always made fun of whenever he was visiting Oppenheimer. Did this girl steal Robert’s dog?

Standing to his full height, Teller’s eyes shift from Buddy, who lays at Ede’s feet, tail wagging to the flustered woman. “This dog isn’t yours.”

“Huh? Oh, no. It’s not. I’m a do- wait, how do you know it’s not mine?” Teller smiles softly, reaching down to scratch Buddy’s ears, the dog’s tail thumping happily against the green grass.

“Are you sitting for Dr. Oppenheimer?”

“Yeah, actually. He’s my neighbor. Do you know him? He and Mrs. Oppenheimer occasionally ask me to watch their dog while they go out of town for whatever business they attend to.”

“Yes, I know him quite well.” Unfortunately. “We work together.” The woman tilts her head before recognition sets in.

“Oh nice! I’ve only met Dr. Lawrence, but it was rather brief. I’m (Y/N), by the way.” She sticks her hand out only for Edward to take it into his softly, giving her a firm but gentle shake.

“Ede Teller. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah you too. I’m sorry about Buddy getting all up in your business. But now it makes sense why he would just run off and jump on a stranger.” Teller nods his head, pulling his hand back to his side. “Sorry for appearing like a crazed lunatic. I was sipping on my coffee but Buddy quickly bolted and jolted me forward, spilling the coffee everywhere,” she laughs softly, hand reaching up and scratching the back of her neck. 

Teller thinks it’s cute. Teller thinks that she’s cute. Besides, she seems friendly enough and he’s rather lonely. How bad would it be if he asked his friend’s dog sitter out for coffee? “Would you like to go get another? Since Buddy spilt yours?”

Her eyes widen and Teller decides that he could easily swim in the pools of her eyes. “Like together?”

Shucking off his blazer, Teller takes the leash from her hands and drapes the cloth over her shoulders. “Yes, it seems like you need it and I don’t mind lending a helping hand.” He smiles softly, stunning the woman.

“Yeah, that would be great actually. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

-fin-

Tag List: @un-ionizetheradlab @anonymous-badger-238 @mariedork

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 349: That was Then, This is Now, p1

“Mmmmph! M-Morgan!! Pl-please!” I sputtered, head buried deep in the big bosom of my new Hungarian APRN. My arms were straightened stock-stiff at my sides.

“Oh, Dr. J, do the relax!” the enormous blond woman laughed, mirth jiggling through her mighty chest as she hugged me tightly. She nearly had me pulled off my feet as I stood there in my office that Monday morning, her strong arms encircling my head, shoulders and upper back. I’d been waiting for my coff-…my m-…my warm morning beverage and the meeting Melissa had wanted to have but had been summarily assaulted - this counted as the twelfth one - by the “Good Morning Hugs” of my staff as they’d come one-by-one to greet me. New office policy, it had been announced, I guess: Dr. J gets a hug every morning, from everyone. 

Julia had been here with hugs, Bobbi and Brittni and Bianca and Bessie as well, all thanking me for such a fun weekend and being so cool and nice to them on Instagram. Wait what? Shanette had come early and lingered long, feeling especially soft and had purred motherly greetings. Katarina had, with a peculiar giggle, offered to fill my mug if I’d been waiting too long for Melissa to appear with my warm milk. Josie didn’t stop at a hug and gave me kisses, while Randi and Katie had each started flat-out making out with me. Angie nearly had me out of my pants and it was only Aubrey showing up for her hug that saved me from an early-morning, non-consensual handjob. Lakshmi had left just a few minutes ago, after helping me clean the lipstick of all these other from my face and finally showing me on her phone what all the girls is had been mysteriously hinting at and talking about: the Instagram posts made to my account after my own phone had been hijacked on Saturday night, before its demise at the bottom of Melissa’s pool. Good god! I remembered so little of the weekend, had I really been a part of all this…this…debauchery?

What a way to start a week!

“I hear you have the exciting weekend,” Morgan was now purring to me, her basso profundo rumbling through her chest as she held me captive at her monumental breast. “Morgan sorry she not there, she the busy. But happy you have the good time. Many orgasm, I can know!” 

At that, she released my face from the depths of her bosom and - god help me - held me out at arms reach. My feet were six inches off the floor! My mouth gaped: Morgan was huge! Enormous! Maybe not quite as tall as Melissa but probably outweighing her by sixty pounds, at least. Jesus Christ the size of her! Yes, whatever my mystery affliction was had been reducing my stature (I really have to get this checked out…) and changing my perspective, and I knew Morgan was a big lady, but - holy crap! What had happened to her?!? I’d seen her just last Friday, working with patients, and she was nowhere near this size, was she?? She was a house! Thick curves threatened to burst forth from her stretchy pants and overmatched, overstretched blouse whose buttons seemed ready to -

“Haha button go pop,” she laughed as - yes - the top button of her blouse flew past my face.

My eyes just goggled as her cleavage bulged forth and then, slowly, she began to lift me up, up, up until we were eye level. Good god this woman wasn’t only huge, but hugely strong!

“Because you, the breasts of me are so bigger now,” she said, cryptically, “Tell me, what the happen? What you do on the weekend?”

Oh my god what did happen this weekend?

I remember, of course, getting in a little late this Monday morning with Melissa driving me to work. I’d stayed the night, again, the third in a row at her place. She’d helped me get ready and had clothes for me - these new, XXS unisex scrubs she’d found at the mall. I normally didn’t like wearing scrubs at the office as it made me look, well…like the rest of the staff, the medical assistants. But today I had little choice. So while this morning’s memories were clear as day, the day before, however, was a little fuzzier. Though with a little effort I pretty much recalled the whole thing.

“Um,” I told Morgan, as she held me aloft like a rag doll, “M-Melissa and I just sort of relaxed yesterday…”

Of the events of the weekend, Sunday afternoon’s were clearest in my mind. It had turned out to be a lazy day of napping in and out and cuddling on the couch. Melissa spent it pampering me, barely letting me lift a finger, keeping me couchbound in her arms, or pinned underneath her, or with her head in my lap. She’d apparently wanted to spend most of the day in penis worship, and wanted me also adulating her breasts. It was Sunday, after all. Time for church. And so we honored the occasion with either me sucking on her or by her sucking on me ‘like a piece of candy’, tending to the every whim of the insatiable beast between my legs, barely letting it leave her mouth for hours on end. I don’t know how many times her skilled lips, tongue and throat had brought me to climax there on the couch - it was a lot. But it was right before the dinner of Mac n Cheese she’d made for me that I finally had to stop her. I was sore, I was actually really sore, my balls tender and shaft raw from so much overuse this weekend, a sex marathon that did a number on my privates. She’d cooed and clucked in amused pity, offering ointments and creams 'to make it all better', but they only served to get me ready for another round in her mouth or tender grip. It was finally with a laying-on-of-hands, a strange cooling sensation that her palms brought my groin with no liniments or salves, that in the end miraculously healed my pain. Had she done something like that before? On…Saturday night, to a bruise on my neck? I was a little weirded out, as that moment brought back flashes of other memories. Was I just imagining some of these things? I remember her, and the other girls doing…stuff. Like, I knew Melissa was really strong, but there was no way she used her breath to blow me across the pool, was there?

“I heard you almost the drownded,” Morgan said, watching my face as I continued to try to recall the weekend. 

“Who? Me? Oh, um…”

Yes, I had woken Sunday morning and found my busted phone. Did I get it from the bottom of the pool? Or was that Melissa? Wait, did she actually save me from, like, almost drowning? I shivered, recalling it now. Yes, I felt it again - the fear, the near-death experience at the bottom of the deep-end and then suddenly being safe in her arms. Anyway, I remembered intimacy with Melissa in the pool, in the shower, at breakfast. Jeez we were horndogs!

“...yeah, I uh, had a little accident Sunday morning,” I admitted to Morgan, “but it was a f-fun little party the night before. Too b-bad you couldn’t come.”

Saturday was, for sure, more of a blur. There were girls over at Melissa’s, lots of them. I must have been drinking that afternoon because I barely remember that time at all. Later on into the evening I recall a little more - time in the hot tub? Sushi for dinner was it? A movie, some warm milk? Bedtime was more easy to recollect, with Shanette sharing the bed with Melissa and me for a while. 

“Sound so the fun,” Morgan smiled, the twinkle in her eyes telling me she knew more than she was saying. 

“Yeah,” I agreed. Realizing now why I already felt so exhausted: I had the sex lives of twenty men. Yes, I’d slept like a rock last night, after Melissa had taken me to her bed and put me under by humming sweet lullabies that reverberated throughout my cock, hips and spine to settle in my mind and rock it to sleep. But I felt like I’d need to sleep another week to recover from what I’d been through. I hadn’t even stepped through the door of my apartment upstairs this morning, having come straight into the office, and I was already looking forward to collapsing in my bed tonight. 

But first I needed to get through today. Still held aloft by the shoulders in Morgan’s strong hands, I was reminded of that by a knock on the door. Melissa, maybe, I hoped? We both turned to see who it’d be.

Aubrey, peeking around the doorframe. Back for more hugs? Apparently not. 

“Gianna needs to talk to you,” she said. 

===================================

thanks to RiF for editing help

[noys-boise]

very interested in hearing more about hungarian rent!!! were there any notable bits you liked about it? id love to see rent performed one day, so jealous!

this is probably gonna be long I'm sorry but I've been wanting to rant (pun not intended) about this since sunday

so first of all i feel like i should mention this isn't the first time there's been a hungarian production of rent. they did a run in 2003, which even got a cast recording, it just simply wasn't? very good? like i wasn't even born yet so i didn't see it but I've listened to the songs and the translations ranged from fine to just straight up atrocious and questionable (such as accidentally implying that Mimi thinks her dad has hot hands and almost completely removing the love part of seasons of love which feels like it would be the entire point??) i think most of the problems stemmed from a random older hungarian guy doing the translations. i doubt that man was qualified for a show like rent in anyway

but flash forward to 2024. the redemption. the miracle. on december 14th and december 15th, they performed rent in hungarian for the first time in over a decade and i happened to be there on the latter of the two performances (important to mention hungarian theatres will not play a show every day, you have to check for specific dates so it's normal that they only performed it twice so far)

I was completely blown away. it felt like it was done by people who fully understand what rent is. I couldn't even tell you one favorite part so I'm just going to praise this show for several paragraphs now.

first of all, my biggest issue with the first attempt at hungarian rent and my biggest issue with most hungarian shows: the translation. i never thought I'd hear a hungarian translation of a musical i love, let alone of RENT of all things, but i swear i don't have a single lyric to complain about. notably, the translator, Cseh Dávid Péter, also played Roger. btw something i loved is a lot of background workers such as the set designer and social media manager and etc were also in the ensemble, but the moment i found out Cseh Dávid Péter translated the entire show, after seeing his performance as Roger REALLY surprised me because by the way he's also a phenomenal actor and an even better singer. My mouth was literally agape during One song glory without exaggaration.

but I don't want to praise just him even though he quickly became one of my favorite actors I'm not going to lie, the entire cast was great. extra shoutout to Ekanem Bálint and Pásztor Ádám for the sheer amount of Collins-Angel chemistry they had because i swear, Collins was doing literal heart eyes anytime he looked at Angel it's SO adorable. I also want to mention that in an extreme white majority country they still managed to find a Black actor to play Collins and he was perfect, so I find that very cool, I never see actors of color in hungarian theatre normally. okay maybe one nitpick i have with the cast, Joanne's actress (can't remember her name rn) didn't quite hit all the high notes which left me a tiny bit underwhelmed but that's maybe because I love Tracie Thoms so much I don't think anyone will live up to her for me.

okay so here's some truly random bits that stuck with me:

Mimi cat coding has always been a big part of rent for me but in this had Maureen dog coding, which i guess there's a bit of in the original at the beginning of act 2 but this translation had more of that. like in tango Maureen, they call her a dog that's salivating for the bone as a metaphor for her promiscuity

I cannot stop thinking of this bit of costume design, after Angel's death, Roger was wearing a shirt that said "I believe in angels"

in contact, the last thing Angel does while dying is reach out for Roger and Mimi's hands and unites them

this isn't really a fun fact within the show itself, more just about it, but Gadó Anita and Cseh Dávid Péter, who played Mimi and Roger, are together in real life, which i think is really cool

when Roger plays his guitar in La vie boheme, instead of saying "that doesn't remind us of Musetta's waltz" Mark says "Puccini is rolling in his grave" which i found funny

i can't really think of more to add right now but yeagh hungarian rent good 👍👍👍 and it's really special that they even could do this show in hungary, given the current political climate around lgbt+ representation in media. they did an amazing job though, none of it felt toned down or censored at all, the lyrics were also as direct as in the original, it felt great

[tunguszka20]

Spanish, Italian, and I'm sure a bunch of other languages: curva *as in a curve, pretty ordinary word*

Hungarian: kurva *as in a prostitute, derogatory, we still use it all the time.*

[misfitwashere]

Even I, when I read the text of his statements, find myself normalizing him. I read or listen and look for a drop of normalcy, or for how his followers would hear him. I subconsciously do the work he wouldn’t do and look for meaning or critical thinking amidst all the gibberish, and then dismiss the gibberish. But right there on the page, right there on the screen where he stands, his words are often nonsense, and offensive, frightening nonsense.

The major reason he’s still in this race, and not being laughed off the stage, is because so many of those who support him are locked behind a wall of information or bias and fictionalize him, and those who report on him are either afraid of him, told to normalize him by corporate higher-ups, or are inured to his weirdness and self-absorption. Many report on the drip of normalcy and neglect the flood of incoherent, belligerent, and offensive inanity. We must not allow ourselves to get so used to him to the point that he uses us.

The recent debate provided a good example of his belligerent inanity. I almost felt sorry for him a couple of times because he was so out of his depth, so lost and out of control. He had no facts to show he cared about issues and people, and often pushed beyond the debate agreements of 2 minute comments to aggressively ramble on with conspiratorial lies.

And the simplistic, malignant nature of these lies almost surprised me. I didn’t expect him to so blatantly repeat on national tv the weird crazies he repeats on smaller stages. For example, his old debunked refrain about millions coming across the border to steal and rape, even repeating racist disinformation about Haitians stealing pets to eat them. He ignored the fact that most Haitians in the city were here legally, and immigrants in general are less likely to commit crimes than other U. S. residents, certainly less likely than DT himself.

“In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs, the people that came in, they’re eating the cats,” said Trump. The police and other city officials have repeatedly said there were no such reports, but DT claimed it was true because he saw it somewhere on tv.

Of course, when asked directly at the debate if he wanted the Ukrainians to win the war to defeat Russian invaders, or if he would veto a national abortion ban, he showed his true values and that, maybe his ramblings serve a purpose all his own, and refused to answer the actual question asked.

Recently, at a Fox “News” town hall, he was asked about the mass shooting at Apalachee High School in Georgia that led to four deaths and multiple injuries. DT avoided the question to talk about the support he received from Hungarian autocrat Viktor Orbán, the same autocrat he mentioned at the debate as a foreign ruler who respects him.

“’It’s a sick and angry world for a lot of reasons…’ Trump said. ‘And we’re going to make it better, you know, Viktor Orban made a statement, he said, ‘bring Trump back and we won’t have any problems.’ He was very strong about that.’” Never a comment about gun safety, or a sliver of compassion for the victims and their families.

Or to a Mom’s for Liberty event he said, “The transgender thing is incredible. Think of it. Your kid goes to school and comes home a few days later with an operation. The school decides what’s going to happen with your child.” Untrue, yes. Insane? Possibly.

In a recent speech to the Economic Club of New York, he rambled on again about Kamala Harris’ border policy: “She wants to defund the police, have Tony Logan votes, ban trafficking in Pennsylvania and everywhere else, take away your private health insurance, and perhaps most pertinent to the very brilliant people in this room, raise your business and corporate taxes, and unbelievably, she’ll see a text on unauthorized trafficking in those people’s living rooms at ease…”

Then: “[She] Has to be defeated. Cannot have her be the President of the United States. Under Kamala, the United States is becoming a third-world banana republic. She and her party are censoring speech, weaponizing the justice system, and trying to throw their political opponents, me, in jail.

This hasn’t happened. I didn’t do that to Crooked Hillary. I said, that would be a terrible thing, wouldn’t it? Putting the wife of the President of the United States in jail…” Of course, during the 2016 campaign he and his supporters repeatedly greeted mentions of Hillary Clinton with shouts of  “lock her up.” And recently, he repeatedly talked about his own plans to weaponize the DOJ.

When asked, “’If you win in November, can you commit to prioritizing legislation to make childcare affordable, and if so, what specific piece of legislation will you advance?” In DT’s reply, he admitted childcare was an important issue but failed to mention a single specific solution. Instead, he spent his time rambling incoherently on his idea of increasing tariffs on imports. He said:

“But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about, that—because look, child care is child care. It’s, couldn’t—you know, there’s something … You have to have it. In this country, you have to have it.

But when you talk about those numbers compared to the kind of numbers that I’m talking about by taxing foreign nations at levels that they’re not used to, but they’ll get used to it very quickly. And it’s not going to stop them from doing business with us, but they’ll have a very substantial tax when they send product into our country.’” And on and on.

And at a rally in Las Vegas, in June, reported on by Eugene Robinson of The Washington Post, DT was trying to talk about the transition to electric vehicles, but instead veered off to speak about sharks:

“By the way, a lot of shark attacks lately, do you notice that? Lot of sharks. I watched some guys justifying it today: ‘Well they weren’t really that angry, they bit off the young lady’s leg because of the fact that they were not hungry, but they misunderstood who she was.’ These people are crazy. He said, ‘There’s no problem with sharks, they just didn’t really understand a young woman swimming.’ No, really got decimated, and other people, too, a lot of shark attacks….”

In the Washington Post article, the author also focused on the ridiculous normalizing of DT in much of the corporate media. “We in the media have failed by becoming inured to Trump’s verbal incontinence — not just the rapid-fire lies and revenge-seeking threats, but also the frightening glimpses into a mind that is, evidently, unwell…. The tendency with Trump, at 77, is to say he’s ‘just being Trump.’ But he’s like this all the time….” Hopefully, the debate has clearly exposed to the nation that he can’t or shouldn’t be normalized and is unfit to hold political office.

Add this to his offensive comments about soldiers, especially those wounded and killed during their service, or sexist, misogynist, and often cruel comments about women and one wonders how he could still be in this race, or how could anyone feel safe with the idea of him wielding power. There’s a reason why so many members of his former cabinet and administration are warning us about him. And as journalist Greg Sargent recently wrote in The New Republic, it’s time for “the media” to make DT’s incoherence the top story of the week, year, decade.

Time for us all, when we can listen to him, to recognize what’s there and not there, and get out the vote for Harris-Walz.

[sgiandubh]

Fanfic galore

S is spotted on a boat in London by a French fan. Crazy comments ensue in Mordor:

AHAHAHAHA, out of all nations on this planet, they just had to come up with a Brazilian suspect!

And the host (that petty racist I refuse to name) immediately and somewhat gleefully gets on the choo-choo train.

The woman who posted that London pic is not Brazilian. She is desperately (and even provincially) French, but then it does not seem to suit your agenda (for what reason? I wonder 🙄) and then you just couldn't help yourself, could you?

Let's unpack. Yesterday, the X user Véesse, aka Drfolledamour, posted this innocent pic:

In the process, she gives us plenty of info on her real identity, because she is a normal human being with an average number of social media followers and being middle-aged, she does not give a crap about silly, sick hiding games on the Internet.

First, her initials, V.S (Véesse), with a rather cool & clever pun on the French word déesse/goddess. I like her and would definitely have coffee with her: my type of happy go lucky character.

Then, a very important clue, the X handle - @Drfolledamour. Anon and the vast majority of the non French or Francophile users would be excused not to know that is the French translation of one of my favorite Stanley Kubrick movies, Dr. Strangelove:

Then, the short bio, in her X profile. We are informed her grandfather was born in Lviv and her grandmother in Krakow. Lviv is in this country:

This country, if you don't mind reading, is called the Ukraine.

Krakow is to be placed here:

The country is called Poland. It is bordering Ukraine.

Until Brusilov's army got there, in 1914, Lviv was a part of the Austro-Hungarian empire and Krakow was under Russian control until 1794. Both cities featured sizeable Jewish communities, out of which a hefty chunk emigrated to the more tolerant France, especially in the Interwar period.

V.S. is a French woman proud of her Jewish roots, that's all. She also teaches economics in a French high school near Paris, in Chaville. But that's too complicated for you, I suppose.

However, her spelling sucks: 'j'ai dit que ma fille le kiffais' should be correctly written ' j'ai dit que ma fille le kiffait'. I told him my daughter liked him (a lot).

You see, 'kiffer' means 'to like/enjoy something a lot'. It comes from the Arabic Algerian colloquialism kif (كَيفْ), which means pleasure or amusement, and it went on into the French colonial slang, back in the day Algeria was a French colony. And onwards to the mild, mainstream jargon of today, keeping its meaning intact.

I am sorry, Brazilian friends. No woman of your country and few foreigners would spontaneously kif something or someone, nor make the sort of puns only a French native speaker would. Ask *urv, she just said she speaks French (proficient in buying a metro ticket using Duolinguo, I suppose).

Yes, these people are that stupid. And racist.

This is pathetic and the blogger should excuse herself, at a minimum. Which she won't. Of course.

[sakrafka]

Not an ask, as i'm still taking in your art; I love it a lot! I just wanted to say it is deeply satisfying that existance as a queer person is still possible in Hungary. I'm personally a second gen Hungarian and I visited a lot as a child. I even want to live there since the overall culture and feel is lovely. but I fear a lot of stigma, especially because of the current political sphere. what i'm trying to say is, I'm very happy to see others live a fulfilling or at least normal life there. I hope everything goes well for you <3 have a good day, mr wolf

I'm glad it makes you happy Mr Wolf!

I can assure you Hungarian queer people are one of the strongest and most wonderful people around. I love this country and our culture as well, but I'm really afraid of our future. Many people think it's because they're banning LGBT+ people from existence, but it's not that at all (we're used to that). It's everything else - especially in the past 1.5 years there has not been a single week when we didn't get some horrible news about what our government is up to. It's life itself that is in danger in here. For anyone who is not white, straight, conservative, christian, neurotypical, able-bodied or a cis man.

Please do what you feel right, but I would never advise anyone to move to Hungary. Me and my partner are two chronically ill queer people without family support so I don't know if we'll be able to move away, but it's our biggest desire, because this country is falling apart day by day. Sorry for bringing negativity to an otherwise kind comment!

[kloppinthekop]

Have you ever thought what would be trent/domi's shopping style? Who would be spending more time in selecting items, who would spend more bucks? Who would like to try new things? Would any of them change their mind and return stuff after purchasing 😝 and lastly what is the thing they would rather die than being seen wearing 🤪

Hi anon! ✿ Sorry for the late response, but this is a fun topic to ponder and I ended up having many thoughts, lol! Okay, hmm, so I think that Domi is definitely more eclectic with his sense of fashion, more playful and willing to try new things. I think most of the time he feels comfortable staying within brands he knows, like LV or Gallery Dept, but occasionally some new designer or style will catch his eye and he’ll become super obsessed with it for a month or two. He probably lurks on a few fashion influencers’ pages, clicking through the tags when he sees a cool pair of trousers and then spending ages scrolling through all the options before buying something, maybe ending up with a OOAK customised piece. He will splurge on a statement item and then make sure he has all the other pieces and accessories to match it (shoes, sunnies, etc.) just right. But although he occasionally branches out to independent designers, for everyday/casual clothing he’ll usually stick with brands/designers he knows.

Either way, he loves to wear more unique pieces—his light blue LV backpack with the adorable patches, his checkerboard trousers, the basketball player pants, etc.—and isn’t afraid to make a bold fashion statement. He likes when people think he looks good, but he also really doesn’t care when other people don’t like his sense of style. He can do the fuckboy/frat boy look that everyone expects—and he’ll look hot doing it—but he also can rock a sparkly suit and embrace his camp fashionista side.

Once he’s bought something, he doesn’t do returns—no regrets; he’s very confident in what he likes, even if his best friends or people on social media make fun of him for an outfit.

Ultimately he knows what he likes and wants to have fun.

(I love him for that.)

Trent, on the other hand, cares very much what other people think about him and how he looks. His style is usually a bit more bland because of that, but also, he dresses like he’s born and bred in Liverpool, you know? Nothing too flashy—he’s from a working class town, and his sense of style usually reflects that.

Loves a trackie, loves a hoodie; will usually choose comfort over style. Usually sticks with neutral shades, but they work well on him. He wants people to focus more on his talent and his hard work, and ultimately, he’s more interested in being known as a footballer than a style icon. (However, that obviously doesn’t stop him from being competitive in everything he does, and fashion is no exception. He still thinks he’s the best-dressed in the team, with maybe the occasional exception of Virgil, which Trent will allow just because Virg is the captain and all that.)

He’s lucky that he’s so naturally good-looking, because yeah, he sometimes relies on that face card. But that’s okay, because I mean, look at that face!

Domi will spend more on a single item (and definitely more on jewelry), but Trent will spend more overall. At home, Domi will wear whatever is clean, and in fact wears a lot of team clothing or swag that he’s gotten for free. Trent probably spends a lot of money on trainers, and I bet he has clothing items that he thinks are cool but maybe just too over-the-top for normal situations, so they stay hidden in his closet until he has the opportunity to go somewhere like Milan Fashion Week.

Domi wouldn’t be caught dead in fur. Trent wouldn’t be caught dead in a sparkly suit. (He loves how Domi looked in his though… maybe a little too much to admit. This is why he never commented on Domi’s Instagram post about the Hungarian Male Athlete of the Year award, because he was stressing over how stupid that suit looked but how stupid good it looked on Domi specifically. And kept getting distracted… 😌)

Anyways, these are just my thoughts! Thanks for the ask. 🙏