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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

Text

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

hehe the end

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

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foreveralbon · 4 months

Text

“my model, my inspiration, my muse, my everything” - ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader

in which lando becomes a stranger’s muse and more

word count: 3.5k

content warnings: swearing, i am not an art girlie so very limited (and crappy) descriptions of artworks enjoy!! <3

masterlist

lando doesn’t want to be there. sure, he’s never going to turn down an invitation to go to the club with oscar and the rest of the team, but is he always going to want to be there? not really.

because between what felt like a shit sprint, an even shittier race and the shittiest weekend he’s ever had with the car in qatar, he’d rather be at home, wallowing in his own self pity, half asleep while watching friends reruns. but things don’t always go his way, so being dragged out of the hotel by oscar and the others to a club he doesn’t want to be at against his will seems quite on brand for lando norris.

he’s decided to make the shadows his hiding spot, sitting at the corner of the bar where he can drown himself in enough shots and self-pity that it could rival charles’ mood after a dnf with ferrari. he makes it through five shots, seven songs, and manages one pathetic rundown of the race in his head before two bodies slide up to the bar beside him. he’s known max too long to not be able to tell when his best friend is to the left beside him, so he instantly assumes pietra’s to his right.

“p,” he says, not turning to look at the girl. “do you reckon we can-”

there’s a small pause before an uncertain, “me?” is said in his direction. the unfamiliar voice has him raising his head to see a girl who is definitely not max’s girlfriend staring back at him. it takes him an extra second to register that it’s a very pretty girl staring back at him.

it probably must be the alcohol giving him a boost of unexpected confidence because it takes just the smallest of glances at her before he’s blurting out, “can i buy you a drink?”

he can hear max sputter behind him because where the hell did that come from, lando? yeah, definitely the alcohol.

but her eyes can barely hide her amusement and she can barely contain her giggles, a bubbly laugh that’s music to lando’s ears. “i’m sorry, but i don’t even know your name.”

with his cheeks tinged pink, the man holds his hand out. “i’m lando.”

her grip is strong in his, the rings on her fingers cool against his warm skin. “y/n. you don’t look like you’re having too much fun, lando.” she jerks her head toward the exit, turning back to him with a smirk that has lando’s insides melting. “how do you feel about ditching?”

her hand never leaves lando’s as he tells max he’ll call him when he gets the chance and then she’s leading him out the bar and onto the main street. he finds himself questioning whether he should trust some random girl he just met to take him around in a foreign country but the voice of reason in his head shuts up when she looks up at him with a smile that instantly has his knees weak and his dimples on full display.

maybe this weekend might not end so bad after all.

—

they converse over sodas and shawarma because nothing else is really open at that time of night in qatar, and with every passing minute of their “date”, lando finds himself more intrigued by her than he ever thought could be possible.

maybe it’s the way her hair falls over her shoulder when she leans forward to listen to him and give him her utmost attention. or it could be the way her eyes soften whenever she makes him laugh. maybe it’s the way her lips curve up into the most beautifully cheeky smile whenever he says something so out of pocket that it makes her head drop down as her shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“so, what do you do?”

her question comes as a surprise to lando. not that he expected her to really know, but qatar is a small country and he wouldn’t think much would happen at the same time as the doha grand peix.

“i’m a formula one driver,” he says.

“that is so cool,” she gasps. “i wish i could have a cool job like that. i’m an artist, and i guess there’s not much to say about that. i’m in a bit of a slump though, that’s why i came to qatar, for inspiration.”

“and have you found any? inspiration, i mean.”

“not yet. but if you want, maybe you can be my muse.”

he just laughs and moves the conversation along, but his mind doesn’t stop racing, keeps screaming, yeah, maybe i can.

—

lando decides it quickly: he’s had y/n for two weeks and he would go to the ends of the world and back for her.

after their late night date in qatar, they exchanged numbers after finding out they both live in london, under the promise they would see each other again when they were both back home.

since then, they’d spent hours messaging each other. lando talks about his driver friends, his childhood in karting and his favourite places to visit. she talks about her art, university and her favourite foods to eat. she makes him promise her that he’ll take her all around the world, and he makes her promise him that she’ll never make him eat any foods with fish.

he tells himself it’s not normal to feel like this, to tone it down a little bit. when, really, all he wants to do is just giggle and swing his legs like a little schoolgirl with a crush.

“guys, i’m in love,” he announces two weeks later, falling onto the couch of oscar’s driver room in the austin gp.

“are you now?” oscar muses, pushing lando’s legs from off the couch so he can sit down beside him. lando throws him a snarky look but continues talking when he realises the aussie’s on his phone and paying him no attention.

“no, seriously. her name’s y/n, she’s from england too. she’s funny, kind, smart, talented, artistic. she’s a painter and all that.”

“a painter?” oscar looks up. “where’d you go that you met an artist?”

lando quickly fills oscar in on the last two weeks, from leaving the celebrations early to their nightly conversations. he even mentions her creative slump, how he’s trying to help find ways to inspire her.

he doesn’t register the look of affection oscar’s giving him, but when he does, he stutters to a stop. “oi, why are you giving me that look?”

“i’m glad you’ve found someone, mate.” he stands up and heads toward the door before stopping slightly. “just don’t fuck it up, yeah?”

the door swings shut behind oscar and lando slumps back onto the couch, a smitten look on his face. “me too, mate. me too.”

and when his phone lights up with a photo of her smiling face taken the night they met, he’s never felt more lovestruck.

—

lando asks her to be his girlfriend over the phone in oscar’s driver room in texas. he could’ve sworn his heart doubled in size hearing her laugh out the sweetest chorus of “yes” he’d ever heard in his life.

he spends the next four weeks leading to the winter break on the phone with his girlfriend - his girlfriend! - and his first day off on a plane to see her. she greets him at the airport, practically jumping into his arms when she sees him.

from the moment he gets her in his arms, he knows he’s never going to let her go. and he quite literally doesn’t the first few days. his hand is glued to her thigh in the car, his arms wrapped around her shoulders or waist whenever he can get behind her, or he’s got a hand in her pocket as they walk around. it’s only until she has to go to art studio that she manages to peel him off her.

“listen, lan, baby,” she says between the kisses he presses onto her lips, “i need to go now, but i’ll be back to pick you up later.”

“but i don’t want you to go,” he whines. she presses her palm to his cheek lovingly before walking out the front door of his london home and leaving him alone.

but true to her word, she’s back a couple hours later, urging him into the car, and when he asks where she’s taking him, she simply says somewhere.

it doesn’t take long for them to pull up in front of a small building, and he doesn’t question it when she tells him to close his eyes before she takes his hand and leads him inside.

“promise me you’re not looking, lan.” her own hands now cover his eyes as she guides him through the building.

“promise, love,” he says.

it’s not until he feels her hands moving away and the creak of a door swinging open that he opens his eyes and is meant with a paint-splattered room full of used and empty canvases. but then she turns his attention to a certain corner of the room, a display of canvases stood on easels staring back at him - it takes a moment for him to notice that it’s his face staring back at him. multiple portraits of close up shots, to him on the podium, to even a formula one car going around a corner of the track.

“i have an art exhibition coming up and i didn’t know what to do, but when i saw you, i just knew i had to paint you,” she explains, following him closer to the paintings. she lets him brush his fingers across the fabric, watches him trail every detail along the curve of his painted faces, the glint of his p2 trophy from his podium in brazil, the shape of the car - max’s, he realises. he tears his gaze away just as she continues talking.

“i know it’s not a lot, and it might seem a bit creepy because i did go through pinterest for a bunch of good photos of you, and i took screenshots of you whenever skysports showed you on screen. but you’re just so pretty, and i really, really wanted to paint you and-” she registers the look he’s giving her, arms crossed, head tilted to the side as his face stretches into a smile so big his eyes squint. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“you think i’m pretty?”

she scoffs and pushes him back, a laugh bubbling out of lando’s mouth as he grabs her wrist and hold her to him. she loops her arms around his neck before saying, “you know, i almost forgot why i loved this.” she pauses, and he gives a look, prodding her on. “but you’ve reminded me why. it’s like being with you makes the world seem different. brighter. better. happier.”

lando wishes he had his camera, wishes he could be a painter like her just so he could capture the pure joy in her eyes and keep it forever, because even if her face in that moment was the last thing he saw, lando’s sure he would die a happy man.

he doesn’t know what to say, so he just kisses her instead, letting her know all he was trying to say with that one sweet motion. and when he rests his forehead on hers, he grins cheekily and says, “looks like i became your muse after all, huh?”

—

the gallery is bustling with noise as he pushes past the double doors into y/n’s art exhibition four months later. four months of late nights and long days, multiple stress breaks and even more mental breakdowns. though most of the work took place during the winter break, lando wouldn’t have traded it for the world, because no matter how he spent it, there was nothing better than being by his girl’s side.

oscar stands to his right, a woah of appreciation escaping his lips as they take in the gallery.

paintings in shades of orange, pink and yellow hang along one wall - her perception of him watches everyone from its place on the wall opposite. oscar and lando stand tall in their own separate large frame, and it’s hard to miss the signature colours of mclaren, but dimmer, almost warmer, a style lando would recognise anywhere as y/n’s having spent so long around it.

the way everyone marvels over his girl’s artwork is music to his ears and he can’t help but flush when people recognise him as the man in the portraits.

“young lando norris,” someone booms from behind him. he recognises y/n’s art professor emerging from the crowd and greets the older man with a firm handshake.

“sir! good to see you,” lando says politely.

he gestures around him. “your girl’s done well, lando.”

lando nods. “she has. i’m very proud of her, i always knew she could do it.”

“have you seen her yet?”

“no, i haven’t, actually. i came with oscar, so.”

the older man ahhs, giving him a knowing smile. “well, don’t let me hold you up. go get her.”

lando leaves them with a gracious nod, moving through the crowd to his girl, all the while accepting handshakes from supportive friends and small wishes of “congratulations”, “well done” and “tell her we’re proud of her”. he finally spots her, hair pinned to perfection and dress perfectly hugging every curve of her body, making small talk with a well-dressed couple in the corner of the room.

he catches the exact moment she realises he’s there, revels in the grin that splits her face as she excuses herself. it’s barely a minute between that moment to when she’s barreling into his arms, head furrowing in the crook of his neck as she mumbles, “you made it.”

he presses her tighter to his body. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world, love.”

their moment short-lived though when someone kindly taps on her shoulder. y/n pulls away from him and, with one glance at the woman, turns back to him. “i have to go make a speech, but i’ll be back right after.”

he lets her go with a quick kiss to her lips and forehead and never takes his eyes of her as she makes her way through the crowd to the front of the room, his cheeks flushing when she catches sight of him and blows him a quick kiss. he feels oscar come up beside him, handing him a glass before resting his now-free hand on lando’s shoulder, muttering a low, “simp.”

shut up he shoots back, just as y/n taps the microphone in her hand once, twice, getting the guests’ attention.

“hello everyone, i just wanted thank you all for coming out here tonight. it means so much to me.” she pauses for the ‘you’re welcome’s’ before continuing, “i know i’ve already addressed everyone here and said my thank you’s, but i’d like to mention two more people. oscar, who was patient enough to pose for me for one of my paintings. it means the world to me, thank you, osc.

“and to lando, the boy who inspired me to do all this. if you don’t know who he is, just look around, you’ll find him, he looks really similar to the big guy on the wall.” a chorus of laughter rings out. “without you, lan, i couldn’t have done any of this. thank you for sitting there on facetime so that i could sketch you because i was scared i wouldn’t do you justice from memory, thank you for bringing me takeout when i was stuck in the studio late at night, hyper-fixating on the smallest of details and so much more. i love you, so so much.”

and as the crowd erupts into applause, he just raises his glass in the smallest of gestures to her, and whispers, “anything for you, baby.”

—

it’s later that night when they’re both in the comforting darkness of their room, still tipsy off too many glasses of champagne and each other. he runs a hand through her hair, her naked body warm against his. they’re already so close he can’t even tell where he starts and she stops, but he needs to be closer. he tugs her toward him, bringing her leg over his hip and tucking her face in the crook of his neck before wrapping his arms around her torso.

“lando, i can’t breathe,” she laughs, but she still furrows closer to him.

“it’s a great way to go, don’t you think?”

“mmm, the best way.”

“baby?”

“yes.”

he knots his hand through her hair once more, pulling her away from his neck and forcing her to look at him. “you know i live for you, right?”

“do you?” her voice is incredulous, like she can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“only you, because of you. no one else.”

she’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of their even breaths filling the room. and then she’s pressing the softest kisses to his face. his eyes - “my model” - cheeks - “my inspiration” - nose - “my muse” - and then his lips: “my everything.”

“i love you, lando.”

“i love you, too, baby.”

“only me?”

her voice is small and muffled and he can’t help but laugh. “yeah, darling, only you.”

—

author’s note: helloo, firstly, thank you soso much to @disneyprincemuke for encouraging me to finish this mwah <3

secondly, i don’t normally write fics, i mainly write other original works and my main genre is normally thriller and suspense so this is very far off what i normally write. feedback is so appreciated so please don’t hesitate to critique :)

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #actually reading it back i kinda like it #liyah writes

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amakumos · 3 months

Text

enhypen as f1 fans - headcanons.

SYNOPSIS. enhypen as f1 fans this is literally just it

GENRE. probably just crack

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this is literally just for fun and i love lando norris. lmk what else you would want to add if u like f1 and enha... let me know what types of fans theyd be... not tagging taglist in this cuz its not that serious of a fic

LEE HEESEUNG. ★

favourite team: aston martin

favourite track: spa-francorchamps

favourite driver: fernando alonso / lewis hamilton

heeseung also gives me the vibe that he likes red bull as well! i think he definitely wouldn't be mad if a rb driver won, but would prefer drivers from his favourite team

he's definitely gone to races before. occasionally buys paddock passes.

had the time of his life in the first half of the 2023 season when aston was good... after the upgrades (more like downgrades) he's been going through it...

but i think he'd still have hope.

the kind of guy to quit watching the race if his favourite driver dnfs

buys merch like a crazy person

loves fernando’s tiktok account with a burning passion. probably uses them as reaction memes in the gc

will lose his shit when fernando or lewis retires.

has a soft spot for oscar

bashes his head against the wall when his fav driver has a slow pitstop

the kind of guy to yell at the tv when the result outcome is terrible

"i'm never watching formula 1 again" he says when his fav doesn't make it to the points... and then proceeds to turn the tv back on the next race week

probably has a selfie with his fav driver (and probably cried a little bit after)

uses that video of fernando's celebration dance as a way to get out of awkward conversations

the first guy to like fernando's new tiktoks whenever they r posted

JAY PARK. ★

favourite team: mercedes

favourite track: circuit of the americas

favourite driver: lewis hamilton / sebastian vettel

honestly i feel like everyone in enha loves lewis

lost his shit when seb retired

i think he also likes nico rosberg as well. seems like a brocedes guy (he sheds tears every time someone brings brocedes up tho)

would sacrifice his right lung for another lewis hamilton win

would gladly help seb build his bee hotels in suzuka

paddock passes every time when he goes and watches f1.

probably has selfies with every driver that he likes

hes just a mercedes guy through and through

he's loyal to his team! if ur a mercedes driver, jay loves u AUTOMATICALLY.

probably died a bit on the inside when george and lewis had contact on turn 1 in qatar 2023

not a red bull fan. im sorry

but he sometimes thinks about turning into a red bull fan because life as a red bull fan is much less depressing compared to being a merc fan

misses the merc domination era

probably on f1twt and is famous there

people know him for having selfies w the drivers and always buying paddock passes. he's a rich guy what can i say

another guy who yells at the screen during a race

whenever merc has disappointing strategies he just sighs and thinks: "i could do a better job"

JAKE SIM. ★

favourite team: ferrari

favourite track: monza / monaco

favourite driver: charles leclerc

SOMEBODY SAVE THIS MAN????

he goes through it every single weekend. every weekend he is constantly disappointed by ferrari and at this point he is considering to quit watching f1

only cares about charles. loves that man with his life

he also likes oscar and danny ric as well, because they're australian

you know how every italian man is in love with charles? they post stuff on their story like "met my husband😍" and it's a pic of them and charles? that's jake. he is him

jake reminds me of that one fan who made charles a pizza and gave it to him in person. like that’s lowkey some shit that he would do

picks up on phrases that charles says. mainly "it's like this" ...

prays every single weekend for charles to get good results (he is always disappointed)

wanted to die when he saw charles' slow pit stop at the dutch gp in 2023... they had NO TYRES and jake threw the remote control at the screen

has charles merch. definitely bought the monaco special edition hat. probably buys apm monaco for charles too

he's definitely gone to races before. probably bought paddock once but he will never do that again his wallet was crying

was 100% in the crowd during charles' 2019 monza win. also shed tears during that moment

"BURN THE SF23" is the most tweeted thing on his f1twt account of the 2023 season

argues with sunghoon all the time over f1 because sunghoon is a red bull fan... but secretly they're literally lecstappen

in general jake would sacrifice his entire life for charles leclerc and... he's so real for that

PARK SUNGHOON. ★

favourite team: red bull

favourite track: zandvoort / red bull ring

favourite driver: max verstappen

the only one enjoying the 2023 season

because his favourite driver always wins

the only one in enha whos NEVER disappointed whenever a race happens

yells rlly loud whenever max wins (so basically every race weekend) and the rest of the enha boys just look at him like 😒

probably has like 5 red bull shirts in his closet and sleeps in them

defends max with his life. probably has a twitter account w the user onlyverstappen and you'll see him bashing the shit out of max haters

prob bought a max mini helmet. almost bought the max verstappen christmas sweater (hes a dedicated fan what can i say)

big maxiel fan. would sacrifice everything for a max and daniel pairing again because he thinks they're funny together

likes max bc of his humour as well

watches youtube videos about f1 like "every f1 driver getting mad at nikita mazepin" or like "funny f1 driver radio moments"

the kind of guy to save every max edit into his camera roll (hes in love what can i say)

started drinking red bulls because of his love for the team… he says it’s his way of supporting them

fan of liam lawson too. needs him to get a seat and he does not care with what team. he just needs to see that man in a f1 car ASAP...

has been to f1 races, bought paddock once to go with jay. max won that race and he never shuts up about how he saw max verstappen win with his own two eyes

has the same passion towards f1 as jake except he lives in a constant state of happiness due to red bull's dominance while jake lives in a constant state of depression

KIM SUNOO. ★

favourite team: alphatauri / williams

favourite track: singapore

favourite driver: yuki tsunoda / alex albon

big yuki fan. thinks his radios are funny

he's not too invested in f1 but watches occasionally

loves alex bc of how he's somehow able to drag a williams into the points

he's pretty quiet when he's watching f1 i feel

feels like the kind of guy to just sit on the couch and be like "hmm. good job" or like "oh. maybe next time..."

mainly bc his fav drivers and teams arent fighting for podiums or championships... but he hopes that they'll be able to someday

he's that one rlly lucky fan that could just be walking around in the same city as his fav f1 driver and just bump into them on the street

doesn't hate any team and doesn't hate any driver. he's a pretty chill f1 fan

the ONE time sunoo probably got pissed was when yuki was on his formation lap and his engine broke down... meaning he didn't start

wanted to punch smth because How in the World

probably bought one of yuki's mini helmets bc he thinks its cute. "good room decor" - kim sunoo 2023

probably has a yuki or alex cap but that's as much merch as he'll buy tbh

likes the yuki / daniel combo for alphatauri but also thinks nyck should've been given a bit more time

probably hasn't been to an f1 race in person... if he went i don't think he'd buy paddock unless one of the other members bought it and brought him along

keeps up w f1 news from twitter or from jake bc he never stops talking about how ferrari’s fucking up charles' strategy again

YANG JUNGWON. ★

favourite team: mclaren

favourite track: silverstone

favourite driver: lando norris / oscar piastri

no, i’m not just saying jungwon is a lando enjoyer just because i am (maybe a little bc i’m biased BUT)

they’re both just adorable so what can i say really

depressed at the beginning of the season when the mclaren boys were driving a fucking TRACTOR for a car

landoscar enthusiast. i don’t make the rules… he and jake remind me of landoscar kinda… like jake would be a lando and jungwon would be an oscar

would do anything (I MEAN ANYTHING) for a lando win… me too

mclaren 1-2? YOU BEST BELIEVE HE'S YELLING LIKE A MANIAC

spends money on lando merch (HOODIES!) and prob wears it bc the designs r insanely cool

sits in silence in the corner when it’s a bad race week for his faves… like he’s crazily silent to the point where it’s scary. it's giving eye twitches vibes

gets hyped for race week tho he’s the kinda guy to have every race logged in his calendar

makes maeumi watch f1 with him. unfortunately maeumi is not a mclaren fan much to his disappointment

if you hate lando or oscar he will hate you. defends them with his life and trust and believe me he will win.

is on f1twt, pretty well known on there (he just tweets random shit and gets 1k likes and hes like... Wtf)

attends races whenever he can, prob not paddock cuz he thinks it’s not really worth it bc of how expensive they are

used to mclaren being good now compared to the start of the season so he’s devastated when they’re not top 5

NISHIMURA RIKI. ★

favourite team: mercedes (ferrari later tho...)

favourite track: suzuka

favourite driver: lewis hamilton / yuki tsunoda / kimi raikkonen

lewis fan because he’s the goat, yuki fan bc he thinks he’s funny and bc they’re both japanese, kimi fan because well... hes KIMI

riki’s prob been invested in f1 since he was a kid, definitely the most involved / passionate w motorsports

probably watches other motorsport series too! pretty sure he’s talked about formula e, and i could see him enjoying indycar and motogp

yk how lewis released that collab w fortnite? riki prob bought the skin and plays as lewis in fortnite😭

loves roscoe!!! would want bisco and roscoe to meet tbh

wants lewis to win again SOOOO badly

prob has a picture with yuki and the height difference would be hilarious (yuki is 159cm)

i think he's a big fan of schumacher, senna, prost too, definitely been watching this sport for a WHILE!

in a complete state of SHOCK when it was revealed lewis would be going to ferrari

started learning italian on duolingo after the big announcement

has definitely been to a few f1 races (suzuka, silverstone & singapore are probably the ones he's been to)

a BIG ACCOUNT ON F1TWT

probably gets invited as a guest of his favourite teams n shit it's crazy he's practically an influencer there

would start an f1 podcast for fun and it would go viral

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angelrari · 7 months

Text

gossip girl · pt. vii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! i am so nervous about you reading this i feel like i'm gonna die!!! i hope you guys really like it and once again thank you so much for commenting and leaving messages i adore them🤍

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· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

the moment you stepped off the plane you noticed that doha was extremely hot and humid. max had warned you, he had sent you multiple texts telling you to bring fresh clothes and sandals, and to leave behind jackets and boots. you couldn't stop yourself from thinking how it would be to race under such conditions when even walking outside was uncomfortable.

"hey". you heard max's voice through your airpods.

"hey, i've just landed". you said. "i'm on my way to the hotel right now".

"i'm sorry i couldn't pick you up-".

"max". you interrupted him. "don't worry, i'm very aware you're busy right now. plus you've already sent a driver, which is more than enough".

"yeah, but who would've be a better driver than a two-time f1 champ-?".

"didn't you say the other day you didn't want to sound too cocky? and i'm pretty sure he will do the job well".

"well, tell me if he doesn't, i'll drop everything and i'll pick you up".

· · · · ·

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 134.612 others

yourusername a little dip 🫧

view all 1.963 comments

username why are you guys saying she's in qatar?

username that's the marsa malaz kempinski hotel

username stop wasting your talent the fbi needs you

username THE wag

username she's the reason why the temperatures are so high in doha

· · · · ·

saturday was the day. by the time you had woken up, max had already left the hotel. the night before, he had told you his schedule was packed, from trainings to meetings until the sprint shootout.

you knew it was going to be a difficult day. being back into the spotlight absolutely terrified you. you weren't sure how people would react when they saw you back in the paddock. back then, when charles and you were a thing, the fans used to love you, but now you weren't so sure.

max and you had planned this beforehand. it wouldn't be like it was in the past. you would not be walking next to max and celebrating his third world championship win with the team like you did with charles whenever he ended on the podium. max had told you he would love to see you there, but you had made it clear you wanted it to be more private. after all, that was a girlfriend would do and you were not. you decided you would be hanging out in the paddock with the rest of the vip guests, but max had given you a red bull pass so you could access to all the facilities if you needed to.

the first thing you did when you arrived to the circuit was text max just to tell him you were there, just like he asked you the night before. he was quick to respond, asking you to join him in the garage, where he was getting ready for the sprint shootout. even though it was still early, the atmosphere was busy. you adjusted your sunglasses hoping you would not be recognized easily, but you quickly spotted a couple of cameras pointing at you. god, the rumors would be terrible.

"y/n?". you head a voice you knew very well. charles was standing in front of you, with his red race suit tied on his hips and a surprised expression on his face.

"hey". you said as you approached him. he, as he always did, opened his arms to give you a hug as a greeting. "i was going to wish max good luck before the craziness starts".

"making friends with the enemy?".

"oh, come on, charles! you know very well that my favorite team has always been ferrari". you said. "plus, i'm pretty sure you love max".

"i know, i know. i'm just messing with you". he confessed. "how come he convinced you to come here?".

"well, you know, stepping out of my comfort zone and that stuff". you explained. "i wanted to come before, but i always felt like the rumors would be too much after we-".

"yeah, don't worry, i get it". he interrupted you. "i'm glad you're here".

"i happy to be here too". you said. "i should probably go see max, he must be waiting for me".

"go, i will see you later".

"good luck, charles". you said as you wrapped his arms around his body, he tightened his embrace to hold you closer. "and please don't get hurt".

"thank you". he said after giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.

· · · · ·

max stood next to two of the red bull engineers, with his navy blue race suit tied on his hips and a bottle of water on the other. he listened carefully to what the engineers were explaining to him, but, as soon as he noticed you, he excused himself to approach you.

"i thought you got lost and i was about to send someone to find you". he said as soon he was close enough for you to hear him.

"i actually found charles on the way and we talked for a bit".

"oh, that makes sense". he replied smiling.

"how are you feeling?".

"pretty relaxed now, but i know it will change the moment i get in the car". he confessed. "i don't want to insist, but you can stay here if you like or, if you want to go somewhere quiet, you can go to my driver room. i've made sure they let you in wherever you want".

"don't worry, max. thank you".

"max". a man called him. "sorry, i hate to interrupt, but the trainer is looking for you".

"just one second and i'll go".

"i should probably go grab some food before the shootout starts". you said. "good luck out there".

you smiled at him and placed your right hand on his arm. max reached out to grab the left hand to pull your body closer to his, your arms instinctively embraced his body as he did the same. and for a few seconds it felt like there was no one else in the room.

· · · · ·

after the celebration of max's third world title with the team, max and you had headed back to the hotel, keeping in mind that the next day was still race day. max, who after a couple of drinks couldn't stop smiling, had asked you if you would like to stay for while and now you were sitting on the sofa of max's hotel room balcony, where you were able to appreciate the stars in the qatari sky. max, after asking which drink you fancied, had opened a bottle of red wine and filled two glasses. you noticed how the burgundy color looked prettier under the moonlight, just like the ocean blue of his eyes.

max had placed his feet on the table in front of him while yours had ended on his lap. his fingers timidly drew small circles on your bare legs and ignited your skin with every movement.

"you know what?". he said while his blue eyes starred at the moon. "i have this vivid image of you in my mind from when you traveled to barcelona to support charles".

"oh, that was in 2019, right?".

"yeah. charles wouldn't stop talking about you back then". he smiled as the memories come back to his mind. "i remember seeing you smile to everyone who approached you, even though charles had told us you were shy and, man, i just remember thinking you looked so pretty that day with that red summer dress you wore".

"oh god, i remember it! you didn't speak to me the whole time i was there and i thought you disliked me or something".

"well, it was the other way around, i definitely had a crush on you". he confessed. "but you were dating charles and you were way out of my league".

"oh, come on". you hit him on his left arm and he chuckled.

"it's true, it's true". he took a sip of the red wine. "and now, four years later, here we are".

his blue eyes starred deeply into yours. the blood rose quickly into your cheeks while your pulse accelerated. it was almost ridiculous how he could make your body temperature rise with just one stare. you left the glass on the table and moved you feet from his lap to be able to come closer to him.

"i've always been fascinated by you".

the moment those words left his mouth you found the courage to place your hands softly on his face. max stare dropped from your eyes to your lips and his hand found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer to his body. carefully, your nose touched his, feeling his breath become deeper. time stopped the moment you placed your lips on his and all you could feel was him: his hands grabbing the fabric of your dress, his chest touching yours as he leaned towards you, his lips moving against yours and deepening the kiss so passionately that you were out of breath. and that night, under the qatari heat, two bodies became one.

· · · · ·

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taglist: @cha-hot @carlandonorri-s @raizelchrysanderoctavius @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @crlsummer @f1mockingjay @ssararuffoni @au-ghosttype @jointhehunt67 @amalialeclerc @lazybot @kimmchijjajang @roseseraj @ponkaniee @champagneproblems17 @starshapedb0x @aundercover @lqvesoph @coffeewhore18 @coolio2195 @crazysaladchopshop

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safetycar-restart · 7 months

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KINKTOBER DAY 14: GANG BANG [MERCEDES X READER]

NOTE: This is a nsfw fic with dom!reader and sub!Mick, featuring Lewis, George, Toto and Bono. If you're under 18 or uninterested, then scroll past. If you like what you see here, then check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different concept with different motorsport athletes. We discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you're inspired by what you read here, feel free to stop by!

(This fic takes place in an dom/sub AU everyone is either a dom, sub or switch. Reader is the Mercedes team dom, with Mick being the team sub. If you like this AU, you can check out more of it on my blog under the 'D/S AU' tag)

Qatar 2023. Lewis DNFs, crashing into George and nearly taking George out the race. Somehow, George fights his way to 4th.

Mick has no idea what to do. When they crash on lap 1, Mick outwardly whines and turns to see where you are. He hates seeing his team upset, and he already knows this will cause so much drama. As the team sub, all he wants is to be a good boy for his team and make everyone happy.

Mick finds you sitting with the pit crew and drags you back to where he and Toto are watching the race. Toto glances at you, nodding for a moment and turning back to the screen.

When the race ends, Mick has no idea what to do with himself. He wants to go find and comfort lewis, but George deserves to be celebrated. He just turns to you, having no idea what to do.

When you go to Lewis, he's devastated, and he refuses to take any comfort from you because he says he needs to wait until George finishes the race so he can apologise. If this were George, you would have pulled your rank as team dom and made him come with you. But you know that Lewis needs to address this directly with George before he can do anything else.

So you agree to wait until the race is finished.

Once you agree to that, you go to fetch Mick because you're sure the poor thing must be distraught. And he is, he's cuddled up on Toto's lap, hiding in toto's lap and resting his head against toto's earphones so he can hear the radio chatter.

He spots you approaching and tries to get up but Toto tightens his hold on Mick, clearly taking comfort from the team sub himself. So instead you order Mick to say where he is and comfort Toto, promising him that you're looking after Lewis.

So that's how it goes until the race ends, with you and Bono waiting with Lewis while Mick stays with Toto. When things finally end, George has done an amazing job. 4th!!

Lewis is the first to speak to George, apologising for what he's done and hugging him. George nods, hugging Lewis back but it's very clear that he is not fully okay.

Mick turns to you, unsure of what to do.

And for a moment you arent sure either, because you have two team members who need very different things. But then you think about it, thinking about how disjoined the entire team is and realise what the best solution is.

Everyone scenes together, whoever wants to join can.

Mick, of course, is very willing to do whatever you say, trusting that it will be what the team needs. Lewis and George knows better than to argue with you, and you just give Toto one look and he's on his way. Bono ends up joining too.

Mick is confused and unsure what to do, looking to you for guidance because everything feels so disjointed and no one knows what to do.

You take everyone back to the hotel, telling Toto, George, Lewis and bono to sit and watch while you prep Mick. You tell them they aren't to talk, just sit and watch.

Mick is so good for you, laying on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest and letting out little whines as you slowly open him up.

Before you can finish, George speaks up and asks if he can lay with Mick, if he can hold his hand. And well, how could you possibly say no to that? So you let George come and sit on the bed, and pulls mick's head into his lap and holds his hand.

"Good boys," you tell them, smiling when they both beam at you.

Mick and George are your good boys, so seeing them cuddled up while Mick feels good is perfect, exactly what those two need.

When you're happy with how prepped Mick is, you move to the top of the bed, sitting on the other side of Mick and calling the other three forward.

Toto, bono and Lewis get to take turns fucking Mick, while you and George comfort him and hold him.

By the end Mick is so fucked out he can barely move, just rolls over into your arms and mumbles his thanks.

Toto says behind for aftercare, always extra protective of Mick. So you and Toto clean Mick up, with George staying at mick's side the entire time, not wanting to let his fellow sub out of his sight.

Right before you're about to go to sleep, you get a message from Lewis, asking if he can come back and spend the night.

#kinktober tag #sub!Mick #ms #sub!George #gr #nsfw.#d/s au

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holygrailimagines · 1 year

Text

Fox

Summary: Kevin Alvarez is crushing on a certain Fox football reporter.

To say you loved your job was an understatement. You practically breathed sports and talking was something you couldn’t stop doing, so naturally being a Fox sports reporter was out of the question. You loved commentating on games and adding a little spice of your Mexican culture to it. Everybody loved you and you quickly became a fan favorite and one of America’s sweethearts. Thanks to all the support, you were here in Qatar for the 2022 World Cup.

Today, you were commentating on Mexico v Poland with your Fox partner, Tom. You were so excited and ready to root for your home country. The whole time you were on the edge of your seat, waiting for Mexico to score. Unfortunately, that never arrived, but your hope was not extinguished as you left the air with a final hopeful message to Mexico for their next game.

“Well, despite no goals, this was quite an interesting game as we got a little taste of what’s to come in Group C. Of course, San Ochoa saves the day. He truly is el señor de los cielos. However, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Alvarez. He definitely seems to be rising up to the plate, I sense this will be a great World Cup for Mexico.” You say, passing it on to Tom.

—-----------------------------------------

It was now 12 am in Qatar and you were exhausted. When you reached your hotel room, you took a well-deserved shower and hopped onto twitter. You were showered with the usual love, and the occasional hate tweets, but something caught your attention. An article published by TMZ: Mexican Football Star, Kevin Alvarez, Dating Fox Reporter, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?!

Your eyes widened as you quickly clicked on the article link and sure enough, a video clip was attached to the article. You pressed play and watched as the football player was bombarded by flashing lights and random questions.

“Kevin! Kevin! Kevin! Any news on a girlfriend?” The paparazzi frantically asked. You saw a small smile form on his face as he opened and closed his mouth, as if fighting the words threatening to come from his throat.

“Ask (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He said with a smirk and then made a mad dash to his hotel. The video ended there, and you were greeted with a blank screen. You caught your own reflection, wide mouthed and shocked. Like a ripple wave effect, your tweets instantly become Kevin Alvarez related as fans questioned your relationship status. To be honest, you weren’t mad at all. He was quite handsome, and you wouldn’t mind it if he was your boyfriend.

Speaking of the devil, you got a DM notification from him on Instagram. You hesitated for a second but opened it, it read:

Hey, I know you probably saw that TMZ video, I really hope that didn’t upset you. I don’t really know why I said that. If I’m being honest, I have had a crush on you since forever. I understand if you never want to speak to me. I’m really sorry if I messed things up with you.

Your heart was beating so fast and even if this was all happening online, you were blushing like mad. You stared at his message for what felt like hours, trying to come up with a good response. Should you be playful, play hard to get, be easy? The only thing you knew was that this guy was cute, and you wouldn’t mind spending some time with him. So, you responded:

Haha, don’t worry about it. I totally get it. You didn’t mess anything up, I would love to hang out some time, but don’t you have a World Cup to worry about?

You practically screamed and kicked your legs like a teenage girl when you hit the send button. Just as quickly as you sent it, you got another notification.

Nah, I’m more worried about you. I think about you all the time.

Please I don’t know if these are shitty, I’m just writing like crazy now!

#kevin alvarez #kevin alvarez x reader #kevin alvarez imagine #2022 world cup #seleccion mexicana

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pkjobs · 3 months

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Business Coordinator (Female Filipina) Latest Job In Qatar

JOB CATEGORY Administration POSITION Receptionist YEARS OF EXPERIENCE 5-6 Years GENDER Female SALARY RANGE QAR 2,001 – QAR 5,000 APPLICANT LOCATION In-country Hire Only Business Coordinator/Receptionist Requirements: Responsibilities: · Providing confidential administrative support. · Knowledgeable in Business Coordination services. · Constant Business…

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whysojiminimnida · 1 year

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WELL I SEE IT'S TIME TO TALK TATTOOS AGAIN

Holy cats, hoes mad:

I just adore Black&White KM, don't you? Honestly, never yells at me no matter how often I steal their pics, they give out freebies at concerts, they're respectful -- if you're gonna make a living off photographing famous people, do it like they do. Honestly. So they're in Qatar doing their whole job and hoes losing their shit all over the internet, apparently, all because a certain JM is darker. STILL.

This is not a brand new development.

Y'ALL HE DID THIS MONTHS AGO WHY ARE WE JUST NOW FREAKING OUT ABOUT IT?

This is at LAST YEAR'S GRAMMYS Y'ALL:

And completely unedited, unretouched, the JM was darker enough then that I did a whole post about it.

I MEAN DAMN have we not gone over this, like, several times? (In case you're new to this house elf situation we have here, yes. YES WE HAVE.) We have talked about Jungkook's tattoos at GREAT LENGTH. Well, I have, as far back as a while ago, most recently along about here but also here and here and here and several other places. There is zero tag organization in this house, I don't know what else to tell you.

Anywho Jungkook's tats do not, as nearly as I can tell, mean this:

Because, like the nice graphic above says that I just edited, THIS IS FAN-MADE BULLSHIT. I dunno who made it but I suspect the addition of the J upset some folk enough to need to make JeiKei's motivation anything OTHER than Jimin. Because, as we know, he started out with his ink like this:

Yes, that is a pic someone ripped off. I don't like using it. But it's what we have, and it's years later, and it's been out there for a long time, don't shoot. But I have expounded more than once on why it makes NO SENSE to GO BACK LATER to add one letter to a near-complete hand piece. It doesn't. And that A is not, never has been, a V. In Korea you can go literally anywhere and see Samsung logos, Shilla hotel logos, and of course Jimin's dad's cafe' all using that stylized A with no crossbar.

And I think it's pretty clear what JK thinks the JM means. It means Jimin. Ji Min. JM. DUH. And just like his "rather be dead than cool / make hay while the sun shines" crossword ON HIS ARM, he has a crossword on his hand. A very obvious crossword. Who he loves is written for all of us to see: ARMY, and JM. And lest I forget about that crown:

It's THE SAME CROWN. Wanna go one better but likely utter fanfiction, you could even go heart-arrow-crown like so: 💜 > 👑... ... and make that story work. It actually makes more sense than one J for four people and four letters for three. But we're not here for that. Occam's Razor tells us that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one, and the simplest explanation is the one that's got bitches tearing their hair out. Because THEY KNOW. They KNOW that JM means Jimin, and they HATE IT. (And so what, to quote JeiKei directly. We're gonna talk about fan hate today, too, just... not in this post).

MEANWHILE JUNGKOOK is always showing us his hand, too, have you noticed? Ever since he got the tattoos, but I think more in the last year. It's gotten really pronounced since the PTD dates.

Jeon Jungkook does what Jeon Jungkook wants, and what he wants is for us to pick up what he's been throwing down since, oh, FOREVER but even more recently. Like, it's NOTICEABLE, the way he gets that tattoo in frame at every opportunity. I'll run out of image space before he runs out of ways to show us his touched-up hand.

Yeah. I think the fanmade bullshit has been exposed for what it is. Some of us have known it all along, but even if you're baby Army and you accidentally got stuck watching a lot of comic sans rainbow font youtube garbage (or got up on the wrong side of stan twt), there's no shame in that. I ain't even mad. I'm just happy you're here. Jeon-Park house elves, how we doin'?

#jungkook tattoo #jungkook tattoos #jeikei's tattoos #those damn hand tattoos again #here we go #jikook just jikooking nbd #must be 2022 in the jeon park house #hand tattoos #hand tattoos and ring placement #we didn't even talk about ring placement #jkjm #jmjk #kookmin #minggukie supremacy #jimin #jungkook #jeikei #jk #must be 2022 in qatar

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girlactionfigure · 6 months

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ISRAEL REALTIME - "Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime"

Late Night Nov 13

◾️DRONE ATTACK - North - 10:34 PM - False Alarm.

◾️HOSTAGE HORRORS

SMOKING GUN that 100% makes Gaza hospitals a valid military target: IDF Spokesman: “We found evidence that Israeli abductees were kept in the Rantisi hospital.”

- It is estimated that during the stay in captivity a woman in the advanced month of pregnancy gave birth to a baby in captivity.

- Hamas publishes forced video of 19 year old female hostage, the end of the video showing her remains.

- Iraqi resistance published forced video of Elizabeth Churkov, Israeli-Russian-American journalist kidnapped 7 months ago, speaking in Hebrew.

◾️IDF ATTACKS LEBANON… “from the ground”, troops on the ground? Anti-tank fire in response. rab report about an IDF artillery attack on the village of Labuna. Arab report on an attack from a drone in the town of Yaron.

◾️QATAR SAYS… The Qatari Ministry of Foreign Affairs took a hard look at the photos published today by IDF radio showing the "palace" of the Qatari ambassador, located on the beach in Gaza City, after being hit by IDF fire and graffitied with "Nova Hotel" and a Star of David. The Qatari Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a "strong condemnation".

◾️TRAIN SERVICE… from Sunday traffic will resume at most stations in the Western Negev (with the approval of the security authorities), and will also operate complementary trains between Netivot and Ashkelon. Also, the Yokneam and Kfar Yehoshua stations on the Emek line will be reopened.

◾️JORDAN INFILTRATION… (illegal workers) residents of the kibbutzim Ashdot Ya'akov Ihud, Ashdot Ya'akov Maukhed, Masada, Shaar Golan, Afikim and Beit Zera in the Jordan Valley were instructed to enter their homes due to suspicion of intrusion via the Jordanian border. Security forces arrested a number of suspects who had penetrated the border. Apparently these are job infiltrators.

◾️IRAN GETS $10 B… A senior Iranian official said that $10 billion worth of frozen Iranian funds in Iraq will be deposited at the Trade Bank of Iraq (TBI) and used to purchase goods that are exempted from US sanctions. Due to US banking sanctions on Tehran, Iraq has not been able to make direct payments.

◾️AID… (( WHERE ARE THE BABIES? )) Yesterday, 143 trucks of humanitarian aid entered the Gaza Strip. Egypt announces that 97 humanitarian aid trucks entered today. One source says Gaza will not receive humanitarian aid tomorrow because the trucks that carry the humanitarian aid in Gaza have run out of fuel.

◾️JUDEA-SAMARIA SKIRMISHES… Arab report on an exchange of fire on our forces during operations in and around Qalqilya. 3 terrorists were shot by our forces. Heavy exchange of fire in Tulkarm.

◾️U.S. BASES UNDER ATTACK… this is so regular now no point in sharing more details.

◾️NEWS DEMANDS… Many news organizations, including CNN and the BBC, sent a letter today to Prime Minister Netanyahu and President Al-Sisi, imploring them to allow journalists to enter the Gaza. To date Israel has allowed local media channel representatives and a FoxNews Israeli stringer.

#Israel #Iron Sword #Hamas Massacre #October 7 #Real Time Updates

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spreejobs · 10 months

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Registered Nurse - Radiology OPD Job Vacancy in Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Registered Nurse – Radiology OPD Job Vacancy in Dubai, United Arab Emirates JOB DESCRIPTION Perform his / her duties as per NMC guiding principles and model of care, DHA regulation and other regulatory authorities, accreditation body. Provides care in a non-judgmental, non-discriminatory manner that is sensitive to the adult or elderly patient’s and family’s diversity, preserving their…

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ladymarycrawley · 1 year

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The love at time of the World Cup- John Stones

Request: Could the reader work with both Manchester City and England as a photographer (feel free to add any position)? They have a good friendship for a while, but he totally has a crush on her. They didn't have a chance to have a proper chat until they were traveling to Qatar for the World Cup. Maybe the lads will always tease him about it, and Dave the Cat could be a supporting actor too.

Warning: something extra fluffy I guess?

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @johnstonesfc @stonesyy @prideofpd

Is there something more cliché than being an employeee for a big football club and fall in love with one of the players? Maybe yes but that was exactly how the story between you and John went and it was like a fairytale to you.

You would blush madly every time you made eye contact with him and the little smile that came across his lips afterwards made your cheeks turn even redder, hiding then behind your camera to go back to your working duties, hoping the lense would be able to catch his beautiful smiley features instead of your own eyes.

The start of it was a bit rough as you were really, really shy and wouldn't dare to approach any of the players, fearing you would have bothered them so you just stuck to what your job required you to do.

John, on his part, would take every given occasion to share a word with you, even for a small and casual "how are you?" but nothing more happened as it was kind of hard having a real conversation.

"Mate, why don't you ask her out instead of eating her with your eyes??" Kyle asked, blurted out better, John seeing as his friend couldn't keep his stare away from you for too long.

"Shut up mate!" John tried to shush him because he felt embarrassed and, above all, didn't want you to hear.

"Why should I?? You both clearly like each other, you keep flirting and you're both embarrassing, you're a match made in heaven!" He joked, playfully shoving the City defender.

“She’s kinda shy, what if she’s too embarrassed to say yes?”

“You scared of that? Really? She won’t ever say no, she’s so into you”

John sighed, his stare fixed on you who were chatting with one of the guys of the social team.

“And I know you’re mad about that guy who’s making her laugh right now”

John blushed and smirked, that smirk meaning his friend’s supposition was highly correct: he would have liked to punch that man right in the face, even though he didn’t do anything wrong except for the fact he was doing what he should have been doing, making you laugh.

"Come on!" Kyle jokingly pushed John closer to you, the whole situation making him kind of embarrassed.

The first thing that came to his mind was talking about work as you were part of City's first then England's social media team and you just recorded that funny interview he and Kyle just gave.

"Hey" The City player walked closer to you and your coworker, ready to take his place.

"Hi John! What's up? The interview was so good, the fans will love it!" You really were happy with the outcome so it came out as something natural to compliment him.

"Yeah, thanks" He blushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck "It was fun, you had such a good idea"

Now it was your turn to blush as you weren't expecting that compliment from him.

After that first real conversation you had together, you had started talking on the phone too as you both couldn't go a day without each other's texts as they soon became the highlight of your day.

The Euro 2020 was the occasion for you to spend more time together as you were offered a place in the England's social media team and you didn't want to miss the opportunity for the world as it would have been such an important shift in your career

What brought you unexpectedly closer was the presence of a kitten that liked to spend his days near the team's hotel, waiting for some of the players to pet him and among them there was John.

"I'm deadly allergic to cats but this one is so cute I wanna pet him"

"I don't wanna take you to the hospital or something so stay away from him"

"You care more about me or about the cat?"

"Why are you asking that?"

"Just answer" You giggled, teasing him.

"The cat of course" He joked, winking at you.

"We should find him a shelter"

"Indeed…I'll take care of him for now"

"Hey you two already adopted a cat! Your relationship is going very well from what I see!" Eric shouted seeing you really close to each other, sharing the cat.

“We are not sharing anything” You chuckled, walking away as the blush that tinted your cheeks spoke for itself, before the boys could make fun of you.

It wasn’t the truth that you two weren’t sharing anything because you soon came to share his lips as they pressed the softest kiss on yours that night, the sweetest goodnight kiss ever.

You were officially a couple, making everyone around you cheer the moment you decided to make things official.

That was only the first kiss you would get from him as he took every given occasion to steal kisses from you: trapping you inside empty rooms only to give you a quick peck, waiting for everyone to leave so he could squeeze your hands and kiss you goodbye before leaving for the next game. It could safely said that you turned into his lucky charm.

The stolen kisses soon became some kind of ritual the British player couldn't go without, taking it to Manchester too.

The summer of 2021 was the moment everything started, the moment you realised you were made for each other but the Qatar World Cup was what sealed the intensity of your relationship: the year and a half in between the two international competitions went on smoothly as you started dating without hiding, met the respective families and shared a house.

As you were there in the stands watching the players warming up in the insufferably hot Qatari weather, you relived the whole timeline of your love story all over again. That caused you to sigh contentedly because, after more than a year, you were still there and going strong.

"I'm so proud of you" You breathed in his neck as his hot tears soaked your shoulder. "You did so well, I love you so much"

Even though a lot of things changed some of them stayed the same: as it happened in 2021, a cat was still there playing cupid and his teammates were still there making fun of him for being so hopelessly in love. The only thing that changed was that the cat, he and Kyle renamed Dave, made it to Instagram, becoming a worldwide sensation and that you were bearing his child but he didn’t know it yet.

Another thing stayed the same though: England didn't make it to the end of the tournament, losing the final back in 2021 and facing the quarter-final exit against France this time, but you were still there for him, waiting for him with your arms open to welcome him in the safest place you could offer. The only difference was that you could have done it out in the open now, not fearing anyone’s judgement or some tabloids slamming stolen pictures of you two on their covers under some nasty headline.

"Take me home"

"We'll go soon baby, I promise"

His sadness and disappointment made your eyes teary too as you couldn't bear seeing him like that.

"There'll be better times, everything's gonna be alright" You kept whispering in his hair, placing kisses among his curls.

John finally tilted up his head, his beautiful green eyes, made even more beautiful by the glossy layer his tears had been applying to them, looking right into yours. You were the only person who could’ve kept him sane and you would’ve done everything possible to take care of him who was nothing but a frail man who needed all the love in the world.

"I love you"

"I love you more"

#john stones #john stones imagines #john stones fics #john stones fanfictions #mcfc #manchester city #premier league #premier league imagines #premier league fics #england nt #england nt imagines #england nt fics #football imagines #football fics #football fanfictions #footie fics

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blackswaneuroparedux · 1 year

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Anonymous asked: What do you think of David Beckham?

As a footballer or as a brand? I find David Beckham more interesting to observe as a brand than as a footballer simply because he paved the way as a modern pioneer of inventing one’s own personal brand. And in turn he influenced how we all, in varying degrees, curate our social media identities as a part of developing our own brand (whether we do so consciously or not, it’s the lens the world sees us through).

I thought your question worth answering as a result of having a fascinating series of conversations with an old school friend over drinks and dinners who works as a luxury branding whizz here in Dubai. She’s followed the Beckham brand ever since she did her MBA and specialised in marketing luxury brands - she also happens to be a mad Manchester United fan (and even consulted for the club on commercialising their global brand outside of Europe). She was giving me a master class in branding the wine my cousins and I have been producing on our old creaky vineyard back in France. I don’t always buy her arguments but I do listen to her as she’s incredibly smart and brilliant in her job - no wonder she is sought out by many luxury brands to help them capitalise on their marketing and image.

As a huge sports fan I do admire David Beckham’s sporting achievements and I have always thought he was was underrated as a football player. I’m saying this not as a Manchester United fan but as a footballing fan. The only team I religiously follow is a local team many, many divisions down, and well away from the big leagues and play on a boggy pitch and the spectator stands leak from the roof down when it rains. So I’m not being partisan, as I know how deeply tribal football fans can be, which is part of the beauty of the beautiful game. I only knew of David Beckham as a little girl watching others watch him and the famed Manchester United football team play on satellite television when I was living overseas across South Asia and the Far East.

People even to this day in the West don’t fully understand how popular not only football is but also how well supported Manchester United football club as a brand really is in those parts of the world, including Africa too. It’s a cliché to say talking about football is an ideal ice breaker between cultures and day to day interactions on the streets and markets. It’s hard for Americans to understand especially how football - the real football that we Brits invented - is the international lingua franca of cultures.

Even here in Dubai where I am enjoying going to the World Cup matches in nearby Qatar. The ‘water cooler’ talk around the office and out in the hotel bars and cafés has been about football, and nothing else. Because I work in the corporate world I’ve gone to my share of many World Cup champagne events and receptions sponsored by corporates and FIFA. Amidst the glitz and glamour, you realise football is seriously big business on a global scale.

Sorry, I digress. But I guess it’s related as Beckham has come under harsh criticism for his ongoing role as an ambassador for the World Cup in Qatar. Beckham has been one of the most high-profile stars to support the tournament, appearing in several promotional videos, and has received a hefty sum of money for his work. It was reported in 2021 that former England legend Beckham signed a deal worth £15m-a-year for a 10 year deal, therefore making a £150 million in total. Beckham - as part of his brand - has long been considered an icon in the gay community. So his involvement in the tournament as the Qatari face of the World Cup has been met with upset and dismay by many in that community, which is their right of course.

As my luxury branding whizz friend put it, it’s hard to separate Beckham the footballer and Beckham the brand simply because from almost the beginning the two were entwined as Beckham’s football star shone.

It’s worth recapping that Beckham's distinguished playing career has been spent mainly with two of the most recognisable professional football teams in the world, Manchester United (his boyhood club) and later, Real Madrid. He built his reputation playing for Manchester United in the English Premier League when the English game, drunk on sponsorship money, began to grip the attention of the entire world. During his 10 years at the club, Manchester United dominated the English Premier League, which both then and now is widely recognised as one of the best and most competitive soccer leagues in the world - and of course the most watched.

During his tenure with Manchester United, Beckham won six English Premiership titles, and was a pivotal member of the Manchester United team that won a unique football treble in 1999, garnering the Premiership, FA Cup, and UEFA Champions league in the same season. Though a midfielder, Beckham scored 86 goals for Manchester United. Beckham's fame, though, was less from his goal-scoring prowess than his ability to deliver pinpoint crosses, strike 40-yard penetrating through balls with unerring accuracy, and bend his signature free kicks around and over defensive walls. ‘Bend it like Beckham’ became a catchphrase made famous of a cute romcom movie of the same name.

Beckham's international career has been luminous. In March 2008, Beckham represented the England national team for the 100th time, making him a member of a very exclusive club. Only four other Englishmen, Peter Shilton (125), Bobby Moore (108), Bobby Charlton (106), and Billy Wright (105) had reached this milestone before Beckham. Beckham's stellar international career has included representing England in the 1998, 2002, and 2006 World Cup final tournaments, and he holds the distinction of being the first-ever English player to score in three successive World Cups. He served his country as its talismanic captain from 2000 through the 2006 World Cups. As captain, Beckham led his England team through example, including some at-times virtuoso performances such as his last-minute bending free kick goal against Greece that secured the England national team's qualification for the 2002 World Cup Finals.

Such performances for the national team endeared him to the English public and Beckham's right foot was even referred to as one of Britain's "national treasures" by Hugh Grant's character, in the 2003 film Love Actually. This and other game-changing performances propelled Beckham mania to unprecedented levels, even prompting The Sun tabloid newspaper to call for Beckham to be knighted. Popular support was there, and in 2003, Beckham was awarded the Order of the British Empire (OBE) in the Queen's birthday honours list for services to football.

His importance to the national team was highlighted when a broken metatarsal bone in his foot, two months before the 2002 World Cup, bumped the death of the Queen Mother from the front pages of several popular newspapers. Prime Minister Tony Blair publicly implored the nation to be optimistic and the press, both English and foreign, urged their readers to pray for his swift recovery so that he could play for England in the tournament. Beckham recovered in time to be featured in the 2002 World Cup Finals, and scored the winning goal against England's arch-rival, Argentina, before the team was eliminated by Brazil in the quarterfinals. In the same year Beckham was selected as the 33rd greatest Briton of all time by the BBC, the highest position attained by any sports figure.

Although Beckham is perhaps the epitome of the successful postmodern global sport celebrity, his soccer career has had its downtimes, during which he has endured much hostility from England's football fans and severe criticism in the press. Such occurred in the 1998 World Cup finals, when, against arch-nemesis Argentina, with the game delicately poised, Beckham was given a red card and sent off from the field of play for retaliating against an Argentine player. This meant that England was reduced to playing with 10 men, and although the team held the 11 players representing Argentina to a draw by the end of the game, but they were eliminated by a penalty shoot-out.

This lapse of judgement did not go unpunished. England's national pride had been damaged and Beckham was widely vilified in the media for England's premature elimination from the 1998 Cup. Typifying the negative newspaper accounts of Beckham's sending-off, The Mirror's headline tabloid headline read "ten heroic lions, one stupid boy".

After enduring a season of terrace taunts from opposing team fans, Beckham gradually rebuilt his football reputation and popular appeal. Indeed the season after, he played a pivotal role in winning three trophies, the Premier League, the F.A. Cup, and the European Champions League, aptly dubbed the treble, with Manchester United in 1999 in Barcelona.

As his field performances improved, so his image reached iconic status. It peaked in April 1999 when Time Out magazine went as far as to portray Beckham as a pseudo-Christ-like figure and featured him on the front cover in white trousers and see-through shirt in a pose evocative of Christ and the crucifixion. The caption read: "Easter Exclusive: The Resurrection of David Beckham".

In 2003, Beckham left Manchester United for Real Madrid. They paid $41 million for his services as their president, Florentino Perez, sought to build a club of global football superstars known as ‘the Galacticos’ era. Beckham joined a team that included the best-known names in the sport, including Frenchman Zinedine Zidane, Spain's Luis Figo, and Brazil's Ronaldo. This turned out to be an ill-fated strategy as despite their galaxy of football super-heroes, Real Madrid only won one trophy, Spain's La Liga title, during Beckham's time at the club.

Commentators at the time, though, noted the club's upturn in commercial appeal and speculated that the true impetus for the transfer was more Beckham's global celebrity and iconic appeal rather than his playing ability. There is some truth in this. Some commercial synergies were evident with both Beckham and Real Madrid having sponsorship deals with Adidas and Pepsi. Both gained from Beckham's Spanish presence. Real Madrid's commercial revenue from club merchandise sales, such as replica shirts, increased 67% in Beckham's first season alone.

The acquisition of Beckham also helped open up new markets in Asia and the United States with exhibition matches and tours. Such was his impact that it was claimed that the "Beckonomics" of the transfer helped to propel Real Madrid past Beckham's former club Manchester United as the world's richest club in 2006 (according to Deloitte Annual Review of Football Finance, 2006 - the bible of football economics).

Beckham has always had his critics, many of whom note that his off-the-field persona masks deficiencies in his on-field performances. Such critics cite that Beckham is "less than the complete" football player, while claiming that he is too one-dimensional in his abilities to deliver the telling through ball, the in-swinging corner, or the pinpoint crosses and free kicks. They point to his lack of genuine pace, his underdeveloped left-footed play, his poor heading, and his dearth of one-on-one dribbling skills. These deficiencies, they note, despite his stellar offensive set-piece play, limit his overall team contribution at the highest levels of the game.

The career of David Beckham, celebrity soccer player, has had its highs and lows. But through it all, one thing has remained constant, David Beckham has rarely ventured out of the media or the public eye. For a decade, from his 1995 debut for Manchester United, his career went from strength to strength, his on-field brilliance matched only by his soaring marketing appeal in a sport that massively commercialised in the 1990s.

But as he hit his thirties, the Beckham star began to fade, and from 2006, his career has experienced turbulence. After resigning the England captaincy in the aftermath of England's disappointing exit at the quarterfinal stage of the 2006 World Cup, Beckham was subsequently dropped from the England national team squad in August 2006. In 2003 he moved from Manchester United to join famed Spanish soccer club, Real Madrid. By the end of 2006, he could not hold on to his first team place and it seemed that Beckham's fabled soccer career was declining. As he fell from footballing grace, Beckham's commercial celebrity appeal also eroded as he lost several lucrative endorsement contracts, most notably as the face man for Police sunglasses and the brand ambassador for Gillette.

However, just as everyone was writing him off, Beckham, not for the first time in his fabled career, reinvented himself. The football and entertainment world was stunned in January 2007, when he signed with the Los Angeles Galaxy of Major League Soccer (MLS) in the United States, and the next phase of Brand Beckham was re-invented. It began in sensational style. In a sports world unfazed by gargantuan sports contracts, Beckham signed a contract that amazed even the most hardened of sports commentators. Worth an estimated $250 million over five years, Beckham's Los Angeles Galaxy contract was signed only after the passing of a new MLS rule, the "designated player rule" (subsequently dubbed the ‘Beckham rule’), which permitted MLS teams to pay above the salary cap for two players.

The contract was stunning, but fully reflected Beckham's global football notoriety and his Hollywood good looks. Carefully crafted by Simon Fuller, the architect of American Idol and former manager of the Spice Girls, Beckham's MLS deal dwarfed that of marquee athletes in the traditionally mainstream American sports of American football, baseball, and basketball. Beckham's contract was thought to be justified by his popular and global appeal. It enabled him to benefit financially from all his image rights, related sponsorships and endorsements, as well as sharing in team replica shirt and club ticket sales. In effect Beckham's contract made him a partner with the Los Angeles Galaxy's owners, the Anschultz Entertainment group.

The Beckham signing was deemed a watershed moment for U.S. soccer but also for Brand Beckham. It opened doors in Hollywood for Beckham and his wife, Victoria. The combination of Beckham's persona, English, tall, lean, good looking, with glittering athletic skills, and a celebrity wife, Victoria "Posh Spice" Beckham, was tailor-made for Hollywood, Los Angeles, and the MLS. It provided Beckham with new opportunities to generate excitement in U.S. soccer, reignite his soccer career and also to ply his looks and commercial skills in the world's most lucrative marketplace - Hollywood.

There is no question that it has been Victoria Beckham who has been the power behind the Beckham throne. Victoria Beckham never claimed to be the best singer in the Spice Girls, or the best dancer either. Nor was David Beckham necessarily the greatest footballer ever to wear a Manchester United shirt. The team’s former manager Alex Ferguson once said he had only ever worked with four world-class players, and didn’t include Beckham on his list. Yet, by dint of hard work, strategic decision-making and a remarkable ability to stay likeable even while becoming preposterously rich, the Beckhams have achieved the goal Victoria identified back in 2001, when she wrote of wanting to be “as famous as Persil Automatic”.

They have evolved beyond mere celebrities into a fully fledged brand, a household name as familiar and comforting as your daily breakfast cereal or family car. What they seem to have understood is that fame comes and goes, but brands have the power to get inside your head.

They had met in 1997 at a charity football match, although each already had their eye on the other. (As David Beckham noted in his autobiography: “My wife picked me out of a soccer sticker book. And I chose her off the telly.”) Within two years they had got engaged, had their first son, Brooklyn, and married; it was shortly after the wedding that the red tops coined the phrase “Brand Beckham”, describing the way each boosted the other’s already significant pulling power.

When he and Victoria first got together, they were the first celebrity couple you could have on both back page and front page. There wasn’t a part of the paper they couldn’t feature in, a conversation that you couldn’t find a way of fitting them into. The timing was perfect - just as football was evolving from a sport into a 24/7 entertainment business. From the start, both partners embodied not just glamour but the highly appealing values of groundedness and hard graft. He was the son of a gas fitter, who worked his way up in football through the academy programme; she turned out to be just as driven, doggedly establishing an unexpectedly credible new career in fashion when the Spice Girls folded rather than remain a football ‘Wag’ (Wives and Girlfriend of a celebrity sportsman).

Victoria Beckham has been the queen of reinvention. She’s constantly doing new things: establishing herself as a designer, bringing out a children’s wear collection, adopting new tech.

But it’s the licensing and sponsorship deals using David’s name and image that have quietly proved the money spinner. In the last decade, the Beckhams officially became dollar billionaires, thanks in part to the lucrative corporate tie-ins covering everything from watches and whisky to pants and skincare that David has amassed since retiring from football in 2013. (Her fashion label, Victoria Beckham Ltd, launched in 2008 and has yet to turn a profit, although that’s not unusual in fashion.) They may not be in the Kardashians’ financial league, but the Beckhams are a really good, British branded business whose core value is intellectual property.

The approach the Beckhams took to brand building was uncommon for celebrities in that it was strategic, well-advised and purposefully planned. The alignment of their personal interests and passions with business and philanthropic pursuits, enabled the brand to be sustained over time. They’re not ‘going through the motions’. For example, Beckham’s role in football may have evolved from player to owner of Inter Miami football franchise, but it’s still sustained by his passion for football. The Beckhams were extremely forward thinking with their approach to building a ‘brand’ all those years ago.

Before the Kardashians came traipsing through the showbiz world, the Beckhams lead supreme. They worked hard, always had good people around them and their main objective was to protect the brand at all costs. It’s no surprise Brand Beckham is where it is right now as a global entity that shows no sign of slowing down.

Through his world-class soccer exploits and his multiple off-field personas, Beckham has not just become a brand, but a portfolio of brands. A brand is an intangible "mental box" or a creation or an association that exists in the mind of the consumer that adds value to products and services. In Beckham's case his global popularity and iconic image has resulted in him adding significant brand value and goodwill to the various companies he is a spokesman for and the multitude of different products and services that he endorses. Together with his wife, Victoria, they actually have their own dVb (David and Victoria Beckham), brand label.

He is, in effect, not one brand, but an entire portfolio of brands, each representing a part of the chameleon-brand that is David Beckham. His marketing image broadens to embrace other brand identities and personalities. He appeals to aspiring youth as a ‘working-class-boy-made-good.’ To families he is portrayed as a loving father and adoring husband. To popular music fans he is the proud husband of Posh Spice. Behaviourally, his non-conformist tendencies appeal to youth's individualism. In the world of high fashion, his clothes, and metro-sexual appeal attract the attention of "fashionistas" worldwide. Celebrity Beckham's appeal is in the eye of the beholder - a commercial chameleon or floating signifier, whose appeal depends on the role and audience he seeks to address.

Beckham's potent image as a wholesome, clean-living, devoted family man juxtaposed with his penchant for bending conventional rules maximises his appeal to multiple demographic segments. His masculine identity is firmly rooted in his athleticism. But a large part of Beckham's appeal can be traced to his non-conformity and contradictions or his androgynous blends of opposites.

Beckham's fashion sense resulted in extraordinary appeal among the Black community. He sported chunky jewellery. He used fashion to exude confidence and sex appeal. His hairstyles, clothes, and body ornamentation developed into an important part of the Brand Beckham iconic image.

Unlike most men, he changed hairstyles, and when he did it made news. When he met Nelson Mandela, South Africa's first Black president, he wore Caribbean braids. During the 2002 World Cup, he had a Mohican cut. His body is adorned with tattoos including a winged crossed tattoo on the back of his neck. Under normal (i.e., non-Beckham) circumstances, such adornments would contradict his working class roots, soccer prowess, and strong family image. But in the media he is anchored with a strong hetero-masculine image. This occurs in spite of his constant infringements of traditional working class football (soccer) culture that emphasises the strong masculine image and which normally vilifies any hint of effeminacy.

Such characteristics unveil Beckham as being the style icon, who embraces the values of metro-sexual man. This image presents Beckham as well groomed and manicured, someone who moisturises regularly, and who with his wife endorses a line of fragrance brands. The Beckham body, hard and toned, is aligned with his metro-sexual tendencies and that also makes him a popular figure in the gay community. Far from discouraging this androgynous image, Beckham chooses to reinforce this "bi-sexual persona" through his choice of fashions as well as appearances in gay magazines.

Beckham's family-man image is similarly so robust that not only did his reported affair in 2004, with personal assistant Rebecca Loos, fail to substantially undermine his wholesome family image; his commercial appeal not only did not falter, it was actually enhanced in some regards. It transpired that his alleged affair seemed to reinforce his heterosexual credibility and his appeal as the working class hegemonic man. It also provided a counter-narrative to the notion that Beckham represented a kind of new age man emasculated by his allegedly dominant ex-Spice Girl (‘girl-powered’) wife who reportedly chooses his clothes and fashion accessories.

Before the Kardashians came along and branded themselves in a very Americanised in your face kind of branding generated out of a sex tape and Hollywood notoriety, it was arguably the Beckhams’ who really updated and modernised the idea that a person could be a brand on the global stage. That idea has filtered down into mainstream culture and spread like a virus through social media. Instagram has turned millennials and Generation Zs into curators of their lives for public consumption, anxiously presenting an idealised version of themselves at all times, while professional ‘influencers’ now hire brand managers to protect the image on which their whole commercial edifice rests. At work, Generation Z are told to define their ‘personal brand’ if they want to get hired, promoted or simply noticed in a precarious and crowded freelance world.

For a human, famous or otherwise, to become a brand is more logical than it sounds. After all, the brand is just the part of a business that is associated with human qualities that trigger an emotional response in customers. Think of Marks & Spencer, and you probably think about reliability. Chanel means chic, Coke says feel good, Volvo spells sensible. As the explosion of choice on the high street has made customers more brand-aware, manufacturers have worked ever harder at imbuing brands with likeable characteristics to make them stand out. So it is a relatively short step from thinking that brands should have personalities to thinking that personalities could have brands, or a defined set of values to which employers and consumers will respond emotionally.

As my friend working as a senior corporate branding consultant in the luxury market put it to me over drinks: “People buy people. No matter how good you are at your job, if I haven’t bought into you as a person - if I don’t like you and trust you - it isn’t going to work.”

Yet even this level of self-promotion makes some people balk, just as some balk at paying over the odds for something just because it has a celebrity’s face on the packaging. For while many believed that the point of branding is to act as a guarantee of quality, something shoppers can trust, increasingly consumers are starting to question what they are getting in return for an expensive logo. Today it’s not uncommon to see in parts of social media, the phrase ‘personal brand’ become a kind of ironic millennial in-joke, a byword for pretentiousness.

But both millennials and increasingly Generation Z have a complex relationships with their curated lives. A lot about the way we now conduct ourselves, professionally and personally, would be considered achingly naff a decade ago; that everything is now ‘content’; or that you can choose ‘public figure’ as a title on Instagram. But, my savvy friend working in luxury branding would argue that branding does help make sense of the kind of portfolio careers pieced together from different gigs and side hustles. She would go on to argue that we are in a sense all freelancers and that we’re multi-hyphenates. That doesn’t mean dilly-dallying in lots of different pies for the sake of it. It means combining several different jobs to guarantee a fulfilled and financially successful working life.

There is an obvious downside to all this not withstanding that it has its practical uses as an umbrella for sheltering different work projects. To put it simply, branding can leave a person vulnerable. When the product is yourself, or an idealised version of it, it is very hard not to take criticism of that product personally. If you turn yourself into a brand then if you suffer, your brand does too - and vice versa. The expression ‘fake it until you make it’ comes to mind such is the pressure to keeping up appearances. The tendency of online social media when sniffing out inauthenticity is brutal and dehumanising. It’s definitely difficult to watch a character assassination of yourself take place online, by strangers who do not know you and take special glee in your humiliation.

And that is one downside of turning humans into products. We see ourselves as consumers first and it’s no wonder we just see others as products, disposable or impervious to hurt. When rumours swept the internet that the Beckhams were about to divorce, speculation immediately centred on what it meant not for them or their four children but for the brand, given that David’s marketability still rests on being seen as a devoted husband, father and general nice guy. Since the rumours turned out to be false, we will never know. Yet it was a timely reminder that, unlike Persil Automatic, people have feelings. Their lives can take unexpected turns, which most definitely aren’t on brand; they may get burnt out, or simply stop wanting to live in a goldfish bowl round the clock.

But the Beckhams show no sign of wanting to get out of the goldfish bowl glare. Indeed their own children have their own distinct brand within the Beckham brand. It’s an open question if the Beckham brand will run out of steam as the parents take a back seat and their children carry on the mantle as none of their children is terribly good or known for any one thing. In other words, famous for being famous. But as they have shown, that is not a handicap in these narcissistic days.

Much has been made of the fact that Beckham has damaged his brand by taking £150 million to be the face of the football World Cup in Qatar in the face of criticism of the lack of LGBT rights in that Muslim sovereign state. He’s faced online and public backlash amongst the Western LGTB community and it seems his days as a gay icon are over. But critics have missed the point.

Beckham the brand is bigger than his gay icon status. Beckham is already a dollar billionaire and so £150 million is (relatively) not a lot in the long scheme of things. Beckham’s branding team know the future of the brand lies in the East. Indeed unless you travel or lived in parts of the world other than a Europe in decline and an America at war with itself, you cannot fathom how big Beckham’s brand is. The ‘gay style’ brand is a smaller piece of the Beckham brand pie.

Beckham's global appeal is evidenced by the high percentage of people in Asia who recognise him. For many years, he appeared in 150 countries in Gillette shaver advertisements. The Japanese Meiji Seika chocolate and confectionary company made a three-meter high chocolate statue figure of Beckham as part of his endorsement of their confectionary before the 2002 World Cup finals. Beyond that, Monks at a Buddhist shrine in Thailand even moulded a gold-plated Beckham that people can worship.

Beckham is not an ordinary brand. Beckham is a moving advertisement. What is evident is that Brand Beckham has undergone a metamorphosis from the early days when his appeal was predicated on his football playing ability to a more complex multifaceted brand. David Beckham is not just a brand with a distinct personality; he is a portfolio of brands, each emanating from the different roles he plays in life - football player, father, husband to Posh, fashionista, sexual icon, and so on.

We all play multiple roles in life - a man may be a father, husband, employee, and soccer coach for example. Each is a role that often requires different personalities to implement successfully.

In Beckham's case, each of his roles, through media scrutiny and marketing magnification, has become a separate brand - each different, but all managed by Beckham’s backroom marketing gurus. Each brand is similar, but has its own personality. In Beckham's case, each persona is a distinct segment, and from a business perspective, each is a profit centre. This is why his branding people rightly calculated that taking the Qatari deal was more lucrative in the long run than just being a gay icon in the west.

To me David Beckham presents a unique case study of how a sportsman can transcend his sport by crossing over into the realms of entertainment and fashion. Although there are obvious lessons for other elite sports stars that desire to crossover into other arenas, it should be acknowledged that Beckham is thus far unique in the sports world in the way his brand personalities are leveraged in so many distinct ways than say Lionel Messi, Ronaldo, Neymar, or even Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Tom Brady, Tiger Woods, or Lewis Hamilton. Manchester United fans used to chant from the terraces "there's only one David Beckham." Today, while still true, it has been the successful leveraging of Beckham’s multiple brand personalities that have made him into a true global sports brand. In essence, Beckham is perhaps the ultimate in how savvy marketing can make the brand.

We talk less of ‘Bend it like Beckham’ and more of ‘Brand it like Beckham’. In other words, style over substance - which could aptly describe our current age of personal narcissism and self-obsession.

Thanks for your question.

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