#third wheel george

[lestappenforever]

Charles going straight for his emotional support rival.

[charlesleclercc-16]

george blinks if you need help

[georgiasbrainstuff]

Smooth Charles and soft Oscar moments from the end of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

[oscar-pasta-tree]

they're back at full force

When you get the honour of being their first third wheel of the season... 😵‍💫

Maxsplaining and Leclerifying during the post-qualifying press conference at the 2024 Bahrain Grand Prix. 🎥: F1TV

[ohblimeygeorge]

My best guys 🫶🏻

[charles-leclerc-official]

The waist tilt toward Max, okay WHORE

[meep-meep-richie]

As i said in a world of their own

[lestappenforever]

Max doesn’t even care about which position he got as long as he gets to hold Charles' waist.

max so distracted he almost posed as if he was second

[itstheheebiejeebies]

LuzToye Week Day 5 For the Prompt Movie

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[lassieposting]

Okay but. For anyone who's unfamiliar with the UK. Pop-up street funfairs are kind of a Thing here - they show up for carnivals and village fetes and shit and when you grow up in the middle of buttfuck nowhere like I did they might be the only entertainment you'll get all year, so you really come to love the atmosphere and the strobing lights and the pounding music and the nostalgia of better, easier, safer times.

And every year, in London, they have the Hyde Park Winter Festival, which is hands down the biggest pop-up funfair I've ever seen.

Anyway hc that the year Lucy runs away to London, Lockwood and George take her to the festival. It's George's idea - she is from the Barbarous Wastes Oop North, Lockwood, she's probably never seen a funfair before, and she does gasp and go all wide-eyed every time their taxi drives past it - and Lockwood pays, because his house might be mortgaged to the hilt, he might be practically a serf, but he's the boss and he's pretty sure he still owes George a tenner anyway for those beers, so, whatever -

And it's just a whole thing for Lucy because she's never really been treated before. Everything she's needed since she was thirteen came out of her Jacobs' wages. Her mum never spent a penny on her that wasn't absolutely necessary, and begrudged her even that. So she's always had to be a penny-pincher, always had to deny herself fun things because her wages were being spent on essentials or frittered away on pints of Fosters, and being able to do whatever she likes purely for her own pleasure is utterly foreign to her.

And he doesn't make her feel bad for it. For wanting to have fun for once. Neither of them do. George spouts useless facts about when rides were invented and the origins of ice skates, and sometimes puts his fingers in his ears with a grimace, but when she grins at him, he grins back. Lockwood plays the yes-man for her all evening, eyes twinkling when she hangs off his arm or pulls him over to see something by the wrist. He stumps up for candyfloss, for sweetie cones, for fresh donuts and hook-a-duck and the shooting gallery, because "You were looking at it like you wanted it." She has three goes on a claw machine trying to get a particular stuffed dog, and then Lockwood has a go, before George finally wins it for her. And she loves them so much, these boys who put her first more than her own family ever did.

She falls asleep on Lockwood's shoulder in the taxi on the way home. Mostly. She dozes, at least. She's still vaguely cognizant of what's going on around her - the low hum of the radio, the pulse of the taxi's engine, George's voice when he leans around her and says, "I didn't realise you noticed that thing she does."

She's been faintly aware of Lockwood's arm around her shoulders since he put it there, when she started listing drowsily into his side, but she hadn't noticed his thumb idly petting back and forth until it stills. "Thing? What thing?"

"The thing," says George helpfully. "Where she looks at things like she wants them but she knows she can't have them."

Lockwood snorts. It's a small, derisive sound, probably accompanied by an eye roll. "I'd make a pretty piss-poor agent if I hadn't. She does it at lots of things."

"Oh." George seems to muse on that for a second. Then, "Just you never seem to notice when she does it at you."

Lockwood goes very still, for a second. Clears his throat, just quietly. His arm jostles her a bit; she thinks he's fussing with his cufflinks, which he seems to do a lot ever since he started wearing them in the first place. His voice is warm, though. "Shut up, George."

"Yes, boss." Irreverent. Grinning, probably.

With her face tucked into his shoulder, Lucy smiles, and lets herself drift.

[sharlleglerg]

[aquamarinemoonlit]

WE ARE SO BACK LETS GOOOO

[notafanjustpassionate]

"just us and your friend steve"

[abiiors]

♡︎ moodboards for my fav fics — sweetheart!george by @toomuchracket ♡︎

[lemonsharks]

(ID: That still of Lockwood, Lucy, AND George leaning against the wall, now with speech bubbles

Lockwood: can we stop cropping George out of this photo?

Lucy: what part of "the best of us" did you people miss?

George's right arm: thanks, guys. It's almost like I had a character arc about being disposable and extraneous or something

End ID)

Yeah, I'm salty

First and last time I'll ever add salt to the ship tag, apologies but also can we maybe don't?

[meep-meep-richie]

I missed this