#also carlos pretending not to hear charles telling him to stop like 'stop here!' 'where?' 'here!' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moossings · 6 months

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drawn in

the f1 mafia au that no one asked for and won't leave my brain at all. mainly charlos, but featuring most of the grid and ex drivers. i've been worldbuilding with @5ainz (bless for bearing with me) and in between drawings and character sheets, i ventured to write this tiny snippet to hype myself (and be less scared of writing). if you read this, thank you and enjoy! ✨

“You shouldn't be here.”

Carlos’ eyes don’t move from the painting. The Death of the Virgin, by Caravaggio. He smiles to himself, shaking his head. He wouldn’t expect less from the Rosso Corsa, always proud and ready to show off their legacy. Come to think about it, everything in his life was linked to red somehow. And at the same time, inevitably, to the wounds it left.

“Are you going to kick me out, altezza reale? Like a bad behaved dog?” He does turn his head then. His tone is supposed to be mocking, but the moment brown eyes meet green, his resolution falters.

Charles Leclerc, composed as ever, stands on the door, as if he had just closed it. Carlos swears he hears the lock turn as well, but his mind is rather busy tracking every single hair out of place, from the top of his head to the strands scattering on his forehead. His gun feels heavy where it rests in its holster under his jacket.

“And aren’t you the most loyal one? Fernando must be proud.” Charles leaves the door to stand next to Carlos, shoulders almost brushing but not close enough. It’s their thing, throw knives and dodge, push and pull. The Inspector’s little prince and the right hand of the Spanish Samurai.

The silence between them is not awkward, but it feels tense in the same way the air is charged right before a storm. They look at the painting, but the details they recollect are not the brushstrokes or perspective of the piece. It’s the subtle hints of cologne coming off Charles’ skin when he tilts his head, following the lines of the old wood on the frame instead of the ones of Carlos’ perfectly tailored suit. It’s the flex on Carlos’ clenched fists as his mind repeats over and over how very not good it would be to reach and find out how Charles’ hands feel with their fingers laced.

“Did you know,” Carlos says, his voice almost a whisper. “This painting was rejected by the patron who commissioned it. No one had ever painted the actual death of the Virgin, it was a dogma, and Caravaggio depicted her as mortal: pale, bloated and devoid of spirit.” He sighs and looks sideways at Charles, from under his lashes. “It is also said that Caravggio painted her after a prostitute, so maybe that was the real reason.”

Charles tries to school his features, to stop the smile from being evident, but those sweet dimples betray him. Time to stop pretending, it seems. “I didn’t know you were interested in art.” He turns to face Carlos fully, carefully studying the strong features he usually only catches in glimpses. He is setting the ground for truce, building the bridge.

Carlos chuckles, and it sounds tired. “Really? Don’t tell me Sebastian didn’t include it in my file. He used to be more thorough with his research, he is starting to slip.” But he still faces Charles, willing to meet him halfway. “There is a lot more that you couldn’t possibly know.”

“What if I wanted to find out? What would it take?” Charles takes a step forward. Carlos lets him.

“Stupidity. Recklessness. Naivety.” He counts with his fingers, brows furrowed but playful smirk. Charles can’t really tell which one he actually means. “Trust.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Sainz.” And Charles has never backed up from one. Today is not the day he’ll start.

He extends his hand and, in seconds, a warm bigger one takes it in a firm but soft grip.

“It’s Carlos.” A smirk draws up the corners of his full lips. “You are in for a ride, cariño.”

#mm: writing adventures #mm: mafia au #charlos #1655 #charlos au #f1 rpf #ficlet #i'm scared af to post this but oh well #i'm going to keep worldbuilding and drawing my babies in this #hopefully i will get the courage to write a full fic about it eventually #please be kind i'm actually terrified

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interlagosed · 2 years

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(based on a conversation between me and my beloved @chilinorris)

The first time Carlos and Lando get their 1-2 podium, they aren't out yet. When Lando crosses the finish line, after being told he's P1, he nearly hyperventilates. Then he screams, "CARLOS, WHERE'S CARLOS?" and is told "RIGHT BEHIND YOU, RIGHT BEHIND YOU, YOU'RE P1!"

And that radio snippet is circulated far and wide, because there was already so much joy and disbelief in Lando's voice, but then when he's told Carlos is right behind him, he screams in abject joy and thumps his wheel and his helmet in disbelief and nearly sobs. Carlos catches up to him on his victory lap and they're yelling at each other so loud that each swears, after, he could hear his husband over the din of the crowd and their cars. They roll up to parc ferme and are barely able to put their stuff in order before Lando wraps his arms around Carlos' knees and lifts him into the air, and Carlos thumps Lando's helmet and they're both screaming each other's names. Lando puts Carlos down, and they're standing helmet to helmet and nearly in tears. Charles, P3, finally arrives and he rushes to embrace them both and urgently whispers, "Boys, don't forget where you are," and that's when Lando realizes that the only reason he hasn't kissed Carlos yet is because they're still wearing helmets.

They exchange a long look before turning and heading to their respective engineers and team members. Carlos and Charles hug and are hugged, and Lando is swallowed up by McLaren for bringing home his first race win. Carlos can't stop looking back at Lando, and as soon as he can extricate himself from tifosi arms, he goes back to Lando and wraps an arm around him. Lando pulls Carlos' helmet off and shoves a Ferrari hat on his head, and they both smile at each other. Lando knocks his forehead against Carlos' shoulder, trying not to cry, and Carlos isn't any better. They're both shaking.

Jenson interviews Charles first, and then when neither Lando nor Carlos show any signs of parting, hails them both over. They stand with their arms draped across the other's shoulder.

"How much does this mean to you both, to be here together?"

Lando says, "So much. Everything. It's been-"

His voice cracks and he has to pretend that the sun is in his eyes so that he can lean his head against Carlos' shoulder to shore himself up again. Carlos picks up where Lando left off and says, "I can't tell you how much it means to be here with my h- muppet friend." Instead of holding Lando's hand the way he wants, he just encloses his hand around Lando's wrist, and it has to suffice.

They both smile at each other and then burst into giggles, and they're still giggling when they're on the podium, and it feels like Monaco all over again except better and thank god Charles is there to remind them that they still need to pretend. Within seconds, the podium footage of Carlos and Lando with their arms hooked, drinking champagne from the bottle (Lando gags, and Carlos snatches his champagne away from him and Lando has to chase him around the podium to get it back until Zak finally intervenes and takes both their bottles) is everywhere on social media. Including on Carlos Sr's Instagram stories, with the caption "mis hijos 💪" - except that story is quickly deleted, but not before there are a ton of screenshots.

He's asked about it later. Shrugs and says, "Lando is like a son to me also." It's not a lie.

Afterwards, when they're champagne tipsy and in their hotel room, Lando breaks the kiss they've been in for the last ten minutes to say, "If this happens again, I want to be able to kiss you in public."

"Lando-"

"I'm not kidding. It was torture, Carlos. Having to sit next to you and hear everything you said about me and not being able to thank my husband."

Carlos stares at him. He takes a deep breath, and says, "Querido, I want that more than anything in the world. It will happen again. And when it does- are- you sure? Are you sure?"

Lando looks him in the eye and nods. "Yes. It's all I want."

Instead of having sex, they make plans for the video they eventually release as part of Don't Blink. And between that night and coming out, there's a lot of media speculation as to their suddenly extremely relaxed demeanor. It's only when the video comes out that people realize: it wasn't the 1-2 podium, though of course that helped. It was the fact that they were about to live in their truth. And suddenly, their subsequent arrival to track in the same car, Carlos opening doors for Lando, them being spotted at dinner with both their families, their quiet, oddly intimate conversations begin to make a lot more sense with the benefit of retrospect. In fairness: it didn't seem all that odd, given the context of their years-long close friendship and affection.

So when Carlos wins a race and Lando comes second, this time when Lando goes to lift up Carlos in front of tens of thousands of people and millions more besides watching on TV, Carlos whips both their helmets off and kisses his husband.

#carlando #carlando headcanons #hibi writes

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charanteleclerc · 5 years

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love is found in crowded streets and coffee shops

For Quagswagging as part of the Summer Break Fic Exchange 2019. As usual, crossposted to my AO3 (Charante_Leclerc). Prompts are always open. Enjoy! ❤️

The residents of Stirling Street were, for the most part, good friends. They were a tight knit community of five shops, and possibly a little co-dependent for their own good. Seb owned Horse & Bull Repairs Shop, fixing anything from watches to car engines. Kimi and Kevin were next door at Iceman Tattoos, which sometimes also did alcohol (it was never advised). On the other side of him was Restaurant de Monte-Carlo, run by Romain and his trusty crew, and kept very traditionally French. Across the road was Jenson and Fernando’s Champions Coffee Shop & Bakery, once started as two separate shops, but they had ended up sharing so many customers they’d eventually given in and taken down the inbetween wall. Next to them was Jev and Andre’s shop, which was… well, they seemed to change it every week, the rest of them had given up trying to predict what shop it was going to be.

Stirling Street was great. Except for the fact that Seb and Kimi hated each other.

No-one knew how the rivalry had started, not even the two of them. It was just a fact of life by now. They opened their shops, argued about where their poster boards were situated at 9.15 exactly, sniped their way through their lunch break at Champions, and yelled at each other through their shared wall about their choice in music.

“We need to do something.” Jenson groaned, after Seb and Kimi had left following another tense lunch-break. “They’re always at each other's throats, and frankly, it’s driving me insane.”

“I can’t hear myself think.” Kevin muttered. “I need to stay out of there as long as possible.”

“Romain said he has heard them yelling three time this week. Three times. It is insane.” Fernando said glumly. “And they argued over what was the best flavour muffin. And they were both wrong.”

“They didn’t choose my Key Lime Pie muffin?” Jenson sounded wounded. “What did they choose?”

“Seb said chocolate chip.” Fernando flinched at Jenson’s sharp intake of breath. “You do not want to know what Kimi said.”

“Tell me what he said.”

Fernando sighed. “Vanilla. He said vanilla.”

“He said what?” Jenson yelped. “Is he open? I need to have words with him.”

Fernando watched Jenson leave, shaking his head. He’d said that he wouldn’t want to know. People really should listen to him.

“How can we stop them fighting?” Lando asked, clearing plates. “They’re pretty much always at each other’s throats.”

“You’re missing the point.” Lewis said from a nearby table, who had before looked completely asleep. He still did, except for the part his mouth was moving.

“What’s the point then?” Kevin asked curiously.

“It’s not that they hate each other. It’s that they don’t.”

“What do you mean, they don’t?” Lando frowned. “Of course they do. They fight all the time!”

“It’s because they’re scared.” Lewis shrugged. “They don’t actually hate each other, but they’re terrified of not-hating each other. It’s comfortable, it’s a relationship they know.”

“That makes sense.” Fernando shrugged. “I can work with it.”

Jenson stormed back in, eyes suspiciously red. “He won’t apologise. Said his opinions are his own and that vanilla is a valid choice.” His voice sounded wobbly. “It’s fine.”

“Did you cry during or after this discussion?” Fernando raised an eyebrow. Jenson shuffled.

“During.”

“You do know that he’s going to remember that forever.”

“Yep.”

“Just checking.”

“So,” Lando leaned on the counter. “So we need to convince them that they don’t hate each other? How hard can it be?”

~*~

It was pretty hard.

Romain kept on complaining that he could hear Kimi shouting at Seb, and had even sent his waiters over to try and calm the situation.

It hadn’t.

Pierre, Charles and Esteban had stumbled back to the restaurant terrified, Kevin alongside, and needed two shots each until they stopped trembling. They looked shell-shocked for another week.

Jenson tried talking to Seb one afternoon, bringing muffins as a go-between (chocolate chip included). Seb had taken the muffin’s, had listened as long as it had taken to eat them, before turfing Jenson out. (He’d agreed to mend the bakery clock free of charge though. It might have something to do with Jenson lying in the doorway, holding his muffin tub, determined not to move. Bribery was sometimes needed).

Even Jev had tried. Which was something that no-one had ever imagined happened, as Jev and Andre acted like the cool kids that thought everything was beneath them. Jev had wandered into the bakery at lunchtime, looking unconcerned, and had attempted to mediate one of their arguments. When he’d left, his usually perfect hair had been sticking up on end, and something was popping in his jaw.

Everyone had tried, except for Lewis, who refused to get involved. Something about them figuring it out for themselves.

“What are we going to do?” Jenson moaned. “It’s like everything we do makes things worse!”

“No more meddling here.” Fernando threatened. “Look at George.”

Jenson looked over to where George was lying with his head on a table, cheesecake in his hair. Lando was patting him on the back, while Carlos was trying to brush as many crumbs as possible out of his hair. Alex was playing gentle music from his phone, making comforting noises.

“Look at him Jenson.” Fernando repeated. “He has cheesecake in his hair. I don’t even know how they got cheesecake, we don’t sell cheesecake.”

“It was fantastic aim though.” Andre shrugged. “Can’t deny that. Two double espressos to go please.”

“Those are going to keep you up all night you know?” Fernando said. “Or give you superpowers, you’ve been getting those everyday for a year.”

“Betting on it.” Andre winked. “Plus, gotta keep looking hot somehow.”

“Amen.” Lewis chimed in from the back of the bakery. Jenson jumped a little, staring at him.

“I thought he was asleep, didn’t you think he was asleep?”

“Maybe you should convince them of the things that they like about each other.” Andre suggested. “Vodka, racing, ice-cream. Start slow.” He picked up both espressos, downed one after the other, before grinning. “See you later.”

“He’s going to die.” Carlos said in admiration. “He is insane.”

“Do you think that would work?” Jenson asked. “Slowly warming them up to each other?”

“Cannot do much worse, can it?” Fernando replied. “It will either stay the same or they will want to bang each other in a week.”

“Challenge accepted.” Jenson looked determined. “Better than the arguing.”

~*~

“So, Seb.” Jenson leaned up on Seb’s counter, grinning. “Ice-cream?”

Seb gave him a weird look. “Sure.” He said slowly, taking one of the offered ice-creams. “What do you want?”

“I can come and hang out with you, can’t I? We’re friends.” Jenson laughed. “So, vodka? What’s that about?”

“Are you trying to make me like Kimi?” Seb raised an eyebrow, tapping a finger against the counter. “Because it’s not going to work.”

“What, no! No, no no…” Jenson trailed off. “Well, good chat.” He backed away towards the door. “Lovely, lovely chat.”

“Tell them it’ll take more than that to sort out your problem.” Seb called after him. “And I want a free coffee for that attempt!”

~*~

Jenson spent twenty seconds in Kimi’s shop before something was thrown at him. He didn’t stop to find out what it was.

Valtteri, who was in the shop of the time, only shook his head when asked.

~*~

“We’re doomed.” Romain said gloomily. “I’m going to need to buy earplugs.”

The majority of the Stirling Street residents (minus the significant two) were sat around a few tables pushed together, nursing various coffees and teas. Charles, Pierre and Esteban still looked jittery. George was still finding crumbs in his hair. Jev still tensed up when he heard their names mentioned. Kevin was just starting to pretend that he didn’t exist.

Lewis was still asleep in the corner. Or maybe he wasn’t, they weren’t sure.

“Wait, here they come.” Jenson shushed the group. They all turned to watch out the window as they came out of their shops, scowling as they saw each other.

“Your board is in front of my store.” Seb snapped, locking his shop. “Again.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m stealing your customers. How many people did you see today?” Kimi countered, crossing his arms.

“Don’t change the subject. Also, why do you have to play your music so loud? It’d be nice not to have it drill into my head.”

“Well, I’m sorry... “ They continued bickering down the street. The group turned back to look at each other, dismally.

“Doomed.” Romain repeated sadly. “Doomed.”

~*~

Jenson picked up his tub of muffins, steeling himself. “Half for Seb, half for Kimi. As an apology of sorts.”

“They need to learn for themselves.” Fernando agreed. “We cannot have anymore scared kids. They do not need to see that ever.”

Jenson sighed, picking up the tubs. “I hope Romain buys those earplugs.” He said, walking towards the door. “Really hope.”

He crossed the street, opening the door to Seb’s shop. It was before opening time, but Seb never locked his shop (which was probably a really bad idea considering his shop was filled with valuables).

“Hey Seb, just brought some more muffins, five chocolate chips and one of my new inventions, Blackberry Crumble muffins. Thought you might one to try it, and - er, what?” He stopped as he finally took in the scene in front of him. “What is happening?”

Seb looked up, blinking. “Huh?”

Jenson gaped. “But… you’re here! And… and him!” He stuttered, pointing at the other guy in the room. “It’s Kimi!”

Seb turned to Kimi sat next to him. “Huh, it is. Funny that.”

“But… you hate each other!” Jenson clutched his muffin box to his chest. “You hate each other!”

“Well, we did.” Seb said, tapping away at his laptop. “For ages.”

“Arguing is the way to a man’s heart.” Kimi muttered from behind his coffee. Seb nodded absentmindedly.

“Exactly.”

“So, we’ve been trying to make you two not hate each other when you don’t actually hate each other?” Jenson asked. “I think I need to sit down.”

“The floor is just there.” Seb said helpfully. Kimi snickered.

“How long has this been going on?” Jenson looked between them wildly. “How long?”

“Since those poor French boys walked in.” Seb replied. “I really am sorry for traumatising them.”

“I’m not.” Kimi shrugged.

“Oh my… oh my god.” Jenson put his tub on the counter, resting his forehead on the counter. “Does anyone else know?”

“Lewis.” Kimi yawned.

“Lewis?!” Jenson screeched. “He knew?!” He took a deep breath, looking at the two men in front of him. “Give me a minute.”

~*~

Jenson would later admit that running back across the street, screaming words with no coherence at Lewis, and then promptly fainting was not his finest moment.

However, he’d also say that his emotions were running high. It was justified.

~*~

“So, they don’t actually hate each other?” Lando asked. “Wow.”

“All this time?” Andre said. “Wow.”

“I think it is sweet.” Fernando said. “That Seb and Kimi - do not flinch -” as Jev, Charles, Pierre, Kevin and Esteban all involuntarily shuddered, “that even they can get over their differences.”

“I can’t believe they let me find out like that!” Jenson still looked haunted.

The door opened, and the usual bickering being heard again. “If you move that sign one more time …”

“Love at it’s finest.” Lewis said smugly. “I said to leave it to themselves.”

“I swear you were asleep a second ago!” Jenson yelped. “You were asleep!”

#sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #jenson button #fernando alonso #kevin magnussen #romain grosjean #charles leclerc #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #lando norris #george russell #alex albon #valterri bottas #jean-eric vergne #andre lotterer #carlos sainz jr #simi #f1 summer break fic exchange #f1 fanfic

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