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𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘹 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

“𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.”

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

·.·´¯`·.·★·.·´¯`·.·

𝖥𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌, 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗊𝗎𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇. 𝖸𝖾𝗍, 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒, 𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗇’𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗉. 𝖠 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍, 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽.

𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗇’𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝖸𝖾𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗒𝖺𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖿𝗅𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖡𝖺𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇.

𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌,” 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝖠 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌, 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾.

“𝖨 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋. 𝖨’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒—𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝖽𝖾,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒, 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗇. 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖦𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗒.” 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒.”

“𝖨 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽.” 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌, 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.” 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗐𝖾’𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝖸/𝗇.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝗈𝗑 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗉𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍.

𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾.

“𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖬𝖺𝗑 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.

𝖡𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗀𝗈. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝖺𝗐𝗇𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝖣𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗎𝗉𝗈𝗇 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄’𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋.

𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗉𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖽𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌.” 𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝖪𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖣𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗎𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋.”

“𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋.”

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗍.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗅𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.” 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗇’𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.”

“𝖨𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖻𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋, 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗉. 𝖣𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗇’𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

“𝖳𝗈 𝗆𝖾, 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁,” 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾, 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇—𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍. 𝖢𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍, 𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍.

𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗉 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗌, 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍.

“𝖶𝖺𝗂𝗍. 𝖧𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇.” 𝖧𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄’𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿.” 𝖧𝖾𝗒, 𝗐𝖾’𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅. 𝖢𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.”

𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌, 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾.” 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?”

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄.”

“𝖮𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾,” 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝖽, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇.

𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝖨𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗌.

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉, 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖡𝖺𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖻𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝗎𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄.

𝖣𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗎𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽.

𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗄𝗒. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍, 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄.” 𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖦𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖻𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇.

“𝖭𝗈, 𝖨’𝗆 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇, 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗓𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒. 𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗈, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗌.” 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽, 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾.”

“𝖨’𝗆 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗌, 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌. 𝖠 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖡𝖺𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗉�� 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒.

𝖠𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖾.

𝖠𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗄𝗒. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄.

“𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖳𝗂𝗇𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗐𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍—“

𝖠𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒, 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍-𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝖽𝖾𝗌. 𝖦𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋.

“𝖣𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾! 𝖶𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄𝖾𝖽,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆, 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝖦𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌.

𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋. 𝖸𝖾𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖻 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍, 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾-𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌.

𝖠𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋, 𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇—𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗅 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋—𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌.

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾—𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗄𝗒, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝖠 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌.

𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗌 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗅𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗌, 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗍. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗈, 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋—𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾—𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗐𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖲𝗈, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌.

𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖨𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗁—𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 ��𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗂𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝖲𝗈, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁.

“𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗎𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁.” 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.” 𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽—“

“𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗄. 𝖫𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌.

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁. 𝖨’𝗅𝗅—𝗎𝗁, 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍?” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝖽, 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌.” 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗌. 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍-𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝖧𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾.

“𝖫𝖺𝗇,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋, 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽.” 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝗐𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌.”

“𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖽.

“𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗉𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗐–𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆–𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

“𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅. 𝖨’𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗉,” 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖲𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆–𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍-𝗂𝖿𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀.

·.·´¯`·.·★·.·´¯`·.·

@multifandom-loser @schum4chers

#lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #scullywrites #aston martin #aston martin formula one #lance stroll x teammate!reader #lance stroll x driver!reader #formula one x driver!reader #formula one x teammate!reader #love stories

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coco-loco-nut · 24 days

Text

Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”

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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes

all of these were from Pinterest - cause I'm not this funny (I also couldn't wait for the next chapter to come out so here :D)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 26 spots still open! (please send me a direct message to be added!)

Y/n: I’m cool Oscar Y/n: I’m THEE coolest Y/n: In fact, I was once arrested for being too cool *puts on sunglasses* Oscar: The charges were dropped because there was no supporting evidence. Also, your glasses are upside down.

Y/n: I have a very specific type Max: Oh yeah? Like what? Y/n: Y’know…polite, handsome, athletic…that sort of thing Arthur (on his fourth energy drink of the day) tripping over camera wires and holding his mic upside down: you little shit eating, damned pathetic piece of shit – now you listen here Y/n: *heart eyes* that one. I want that one. Max: *flabbergasted*

Lando: bet you’re standing in the corner because you’re scared that you’ll get turned down if you talk to anyone Y/n: please, I could fluster near everyone at this party if I chose to Oscar: oh yeah? Prove it. Go for someone borderline impossible and I’ll believe you Y/n, approaching Arthur: hey dumbass, hoodie looks kind of cute on you, wanna get out of here? Arthur: WH- I MEAN- UHHHH YEAH SURE Y/n: perfect Oscar and Lando:

Y/n: I brought a red bull Max: I don’t want a red bull Y/n: I didn’t bring this for you. This is my red bull. Max: then why are you telling me? Y/n: It’s a conversation starter. Max: That’s a lousy conversation starter Y/n: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate *sips red bull*

Y/n: *gently taps table* Logan: *taps back* Alex: what are they doing? George: morse code Y/n: *aggressively taps table* Logan: *slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

Lewis: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated Y/n: Killed without hesitation Lewis: nO!

Y/n: Is stabbing someone immoral? Mitch: Not if they consent to it. Max: Depends on who you’re stabbing. Christian: YES?!

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Y/n: Shit Logan: Wait, three? Cop: yeah? Lando: OH MY GOSH OSCAR FELL OFF!!

Max: Time for plan G. Liam: Don’t you mean plan B? Daniel: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Y/n: What about plan D? Daniel: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Max: What about plan E? Liam: I’m hoping not to use it. I die in plan E Yuki: I like plan E.

Christian: Did none of you think this was a bad idea? *Y/n, Max, Charles, and Arthur covered in navy and red paint* Y/n: Oh no, we all did. We just decided to do it anyway.

George: (in sunglasses and newest Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit) *in the most posh accent* I’m too good for revenge Logan: (covered in bug spray, cowboy hat and overalls on, pumped full of Bang energy drink and high on freedom) *cocks shotgun* Well, I’m not. Give me the name.

Arthur: So what’s your type? Y/n: Kinda long blond hair, green eyes, dumb, dimples, funny, really thin waist Arthur: Huh, that kind of sounds like me! Too bad its not me! Y/n: did I mention dumb? Arthur: yeah, why? Y/n: just making sure

*Over Text*

Y/n: Hey pretty boy, what’re you up to? :) Arthur: Eating cereal in bed Y/n: And what would you be doing if I was in bed with you? Arthur:…I would still be eating my cereal?

Waitress: And what would you like to eat? Y/n: I wish to devour the unborn Fernando: Eggs, she would like eggs

Y/n: Do you think that when sheep go to sleep they count themselves? Lando: Or do they count humans? Y/n: Ooo, that’s a good question Oscar: GO TO SLEEP

Y/n to Max: because I am a mature adult *turns to see Mitch, Christian, and Vito shake their heads* *turns back to Max* Y/n: I am an adult

*Dinner with Max, Y/n, Charles, and Arthur*

Y/n: The food is too cute, I can’t eat it! Max: Charles: Arthur: You’re cute, but I’d still eat y- Max: ONE DINNER Charles: *sighs* here we go again Max: ONE NORMAL DINNER IS ALL I ASK Y/n: Charles, this pasta is also crunchy, I truly can’t eat this

Ollie: Good night everyone Arthur: Good night Lando: Good night Oscar: Good night Y/n: good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. Tonight, imma fight until we see the sunlight. Tik tok on the clock, but the party don’t stop Oscar: I’M DONE

George (t-posing in the doorway): Greetings, parental figures and sister figure *Y/n, Lewis, and Toto walking past* Toto (not looking up from his coffee): Good morning, problem child

Christian: You see, Fernando, Y/n is at the age where she only has one thing on her mind Fernando (noticeably excited): Oh! Oh! Oh! Boys? Max (looking over at the dead tired rookie with revenge in her eyes as she looks at Esteban): No. Murder.

Y/n: Hey Liam, want some of this food? Liam: Sure, thanks! Yuki (storming in with the anger of the gods): WHO TF ATE MY LEFTOVERS THAT CLEARLY HAD MY NAME ON IT Y/n: WE did Liam: You surprisingly smart little mf

Y/n: Never have I ever…Been grounded by my parents! Arthur (exasperated): Every time. She makes disownment jokes every time and she always wins Max: Good one Kid. I always go for the ‘never had a dad who supported me.’ Charles: *stands up and walks away*

Y/n: I’ve only said I love you to four people. Christian, Vito, Arthur, and Max when I thought he died after he wouldn’t respond after a DNF. I only regret one of those Lando: Which one? Y/n: Max. He was just pressing the wrong button and walked out a few minutes later. He made me look like an idiot. Max: I let you win next race Y/n: still

(Y/n, Logan, Lando, and George trying to sneak into RB for more energy drinks after being banned from drinking more)

Logan: So what do you think Y/n will do as a distraction? Lando: She’ll probably, like, make a noise George: Or throw a rock. That’s what I would do *The door flings open and smoke follows. Screams of mechanics fill the air as they try to extinguish a small fire* Logan:…Or she could do that.

Y/n: When I die, donate my entire body to science Y/n: Except my middle finger, give that to Esteban

(max and y/n in a horror movie)

Max: QUICK YOU’RE LOSING A LOT OF BLOOD. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? Y/n (bleeding out): tall, male, brown hair, dimples, caring, supportive, Monegasque Max: BLOOD TYPE DUMBASS Y/n: oh Y/n: (looks down at wound) Y/n: red

Lando: I wish we could block people in real life. Oscar: Restraining order Y/n: Murder

Christian: Y/n, we need to talk about your professionalism for media days Y/n (and a lot of media personelle she rounded up, all standing on chairs): those are some mighty brave words for someone standing in lava

Y/n (to Max while hiding behind some tires – regretting everything): and then I called him dad Christian (to Geri – trying not to cry while cameras are everywhere): and then she called me dad

Max: Christian, look what Y/n got me for father’s day *holds up generic #1 dad mug* Christian (glaring silently while sipping from his own #1 dad mug) Max: that lying rookie Vito (holding a worn down #1 dad mug): you guys are late to the party suckers

Criminals: We have your daughter and son Toto: I don’t have a daughter and Jack is right here Criminals: then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwiches? Christian: dear God, you have Y/n and George

Mitch: So Christian, you and Geri want to be a parents again someday? Christian: Someday? We’re parents right now. Mitch: Y/n is your employee Geri: She is our BLOOD

Christian: Max is late again Kelly: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11 Y/n: I wrote a fake schedule saying we were starting at 9 instead of 12 Lando: I changed his clock from AM to PM Christian: I think you may have overdone it Max (bursting into the garage): WHAT YEAR IS IT?

Y/n: If I blended Red Bull, five hour energy, monster, coffee, and hot Cheetos into an energy smoothie...would it kill me? Logan: *shrugs* only if you die Y/n (getting out the blender): you're so smart Logan Max (running into the room): y/N STOP!

Lance: I got Netflix like you asked! Y/n: OH that's amazing! I've been mooching off Max's and Arthur's accounts for a while. This will be nice! Lance: Wait, what do you mean accounts? Y/n: Their Netflix accounts? Lance: Y/n: Like their profiles? I wanted one of my own, they're like $12 Lance: Lance:....Oh....You meant the account on the service... Y/n: Yeah, what did you think I meant? Wait...What did you buy? Lance: Lance:....Netflix...

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12

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vinvantae · 4 months

Text

How the current f1 grid would react coming home from a race to find you’d fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for them to come home.

So this is me trying to get back into the groove, hope you like it! All just a bit of fun 🥰

There’s now a part 2!

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Below the cut because I don’t want to flood your dash 💙💙

#1 Max Verstappen

Max’s reaction would be entirely dependent on when his last Redbull was. If he was feeling just as sleep deprived as you, he’d squeeze onto the sofa with you and snuggle up beside you - smiling to himself as you grumbled into his chest about how much you’d missed him before the two of you dozed off, both eventually waking up with sore backs. But if he’d thrown back his millionth Redbull on the plane, just to ensure he was awake enough to see you - he would for sure prod his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you were squealing for him to stop, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Max Emillian! Get those hands off of me! Before he’d kiss you deeply, showing you just how much he’d missed you.

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#2. Logan Sargeant

After draping a blanket over you, he’d cosy himself up in the adjacent armchair and distract himself with the TV on quietly or something on his phone until you woke up. And as you groggily moved from the sofa to the armchair, curling yourself up in his lap - complaining that he should’ve woken you up, it’s been too long without you, he’d simply smile and kiss your forehead. He’d then listen to you yap away about what he’d missed while he was gone, but truthfully, even when you were asleep your company was enough, because even if he felt lonely on the grid sometimes - he never felt like that with you.

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#3. Daniel Ricciardo

Daniel would stand over your sleeping body for a few moments - torn between waking you up because he misses you or just letting you sleep a while. But feeling particularly selfish after not the best race, he’d crouch next to your face and gently stroke his thumb over your cheek whilst calling your pet name to get your attention. And seeing your eyes light up at the sigh of him, launching yourself from your comfy spot on the sofa into his arms would make him forget all his worries - even for just a minute. You’d kiss all over his face, making him laugh. G’day to you too, Sheila, miss me that much?

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#4. Lando Norris

He wouldn’t even get the chance to notice you sleeping, hollering out your name as he came through the front door - kicking off his shoes and dumping his suitcase too was more than plenty to wake you up. As he comes into the living room to see you sitting up and rubbing your eyes - he’d wince and apologise for waking you, I am sooooo sorry, babe. Am I forgiven?, before coming over to give you a kiss. But you’d smile, rolling your eyes playfully and say you wouldn’t have him any other way before hauling him down onto the couch to join you.

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#10. Pierre Gasly

Pierre is a needy boyfriend - of course he’d never admit it but you and anyone with a pair of eyes could see it. He craved your attention so waking you up was something he would do without even thinking - just to get a kiss. So when you feel the sofa dip and a warm hand come up to rest on your shoulder, you let your eyes flutter open to see him smiling down at you. Bonjour, mon amour, I’ve missed you. And as he leans down to kiss you, you can’t help but playfully rib him for waking you up just for an ounce of attention.

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#14. Fernando Alonso

You wouldn’t even realise he was home until he’d placed a mug of your favourite hot drink on the coffee table. He was so quiet on his feet that he had a habit of making you jump so when you heard the soft Mi Amor of your lover, you jolted awake. Nando, you’re home - why didn’t you wake me sooner? He’d simply smile and hand you your drink, saying he didn’t want to disturb you and that it gave him time to unpack. As you sit up to drink, he’d nestle himself beside you and drape an arm across your shoulders, before the two of you would fall into a conversation about his weekend.

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#16. Charles Leclerc

Charles endeared you like no one else - every time he came home late from a race weekend, determined not to wake you, he always found himself dropping something or accidentally closing a door too loud. He wanted to let you sleep but this time it was the jar of coffee and the tiled floor that were his biggest enemy. Most people would freak at the sound of breaking glass while they slept, but to you it was the sign your clumsy boyfriend was home. He’d apologise profusely as you stepped into the kitchen with a tired smile on your face but you’d simply step around the glass to take his face in your hands and kiss him, getting rid of any worry.

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#18. Lance Stroll

With a gentle touch to your knee and a soft whisper of your name, Lance would smile to himself as you stretched out and yawned - matching his smile as you sat up to hug him. Before he’d reach into his bag and pull out something he’d seen he knew you’d love. You’d always scold him for buying you things but there was nothing Lance loved more than picking you out something from each country he visited. And you could never stay mad when you opened it, your boyfriend was the most thoughtful gift giver and never had he put something tasteless in your lap. And boy, did he love reaping the reward.

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#20. Kevin Magnussen

Coming home to a quiet house was rare for Kevin, so when he did - the driver did everything in his power to keep it that way. Knowing you’d somehow got the kids to sleep despite his pending return home, it was not something worth risking. So when he found you asleep on the sofa, clearly in an attempt to wait up for him as evidenced by the half drunk cup of coffee and the book splayed across your chest, he’d slide his arms underneath you and take the two of you to bed. Your body so tired that you barely registered the movement, only curling up into his chest once his strong arms wrapped around you.

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#22. Yuki Tsunoda

It was usually the smell of something cooking that woke you, no matter the hour - Yuki could never resist whipping both of you up something delicious because the plane home always made him hungry. So as you padded to the kitchen to peer over his shoulder, what’s cooking good lookin’? He’d apologise for waking you but would offer you a taste of whatever delicious food he’d decided to make and that was more than enough of an apology. And once you were up, you could sit contently on the counter as he rambled away about his weekend.

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#23. Alex Albon

After taking various photos of you snoozing, including an awful 0.5x close up that you’d have to wrestle his phone out of his hand to stop him posting to instagram once you discovered it, he’d wedge himself in behind you and wrap his arms around you - pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. Missed you he’d whisper gonna put you in my pocket next time, bring you with me. His long fingers tracing up and down your spine as you pressed your cheek against his chest, just enjoying the feelings of his arms around you once again. Not quite ready to wake up but determined to make the most of your time with him.

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#24. Zhou Guanyu

Thankfully, Guanyu was always quiet on his feet - moving around your shared space like he was floating on air, laying your favourite fluffy blanket over your body before checking the house for any remaining chores. But of course you’d done them all, and well he had missed you, so disturbing you just enough to move your head onto his lap so he could stroke his fingers through your hair was his next move. Watching the way you almost purred and pushed into his touch. How long have you been back? He’d simply brush his finger down the slope of your nose. Not long, want to head up to bed? Be comfier there.

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#31. Esteban Ocon

Mon lapin? Where are you? Esteban cursed under his breath when he realised he’d woken you up by calling out - but the guilt faded when you smiled giddily at him. Estie, mon amour, come here. Your arms outstretched for the Frenchman, giggling with glee when he practically launched himself into your arms - showering your face with kisses. He always missed you endlessly when you couldn’t join him on a race weekend, FaceTime couldn’t compare to the feeling of having you wrapped up with him.

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#44. Lewis Hamilton

Lewis was almost shocked when you and Roscoe didn’t greet him at the door, you loved making sure the old pup was there to greet his Dad. But after gently pushing off his shoes, leaving his luggage to deal with later, he moved into the lounge to find you and the bulldog curled up together on the sofa - Roscoe’s large head on your chest, little tail wagging as soon as he laid eyes on Lewis. Hey buds, looking good! He’d whisper, giving him a scratch. You and Mama having a good nap, huh? He’d smile as you stretched your arms out above your head, his name leaving your lips softly before he lent down to kiss you. Let me make us some tea.

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#55. Carlos Sainz

Carlos always craved your touch, but when the two of you had to spend time apart - he felt like his skin was on fire. So as he stepped into your home and found you dozing on the sofa he couldn’t help but feel his shoulders slump for just a moment before kneeling beside you - letting his tanned fingers trace up the exposed skin of your legs. Corazón, I’m home. You blinked hard a few times to wake yourself up but before you could even think, his strong arms scooped you up and off the sofa. Carlos! You’d laugh, as he tossed you on the bed, crawling between your legs, his lips tugged into a smirk. I’ve been without you for too long, Mi Vida. Need you.

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#63. George Russell

You hadn’t even realised George was home, but when you woke up - both of you were dozing in bed, the Brit had moved you upstairs, somehow without waking you up. George, love? How come you didn’t wake me? His long arms would wind around you and pull you in close, nuzzling his face into your neck - warm breath fanning across your skin. You just looked so peaceful and I was tired so I thought we may as well just sleep. You hummed, pushing your fingers through his hair with a gentle smile on your face. I’ll let you off this once, missed you loads.

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#77. Valtteri Bottas

It was late when Valtteri got in, so he assumed you’d already be tucked up in bed - but when he saw you on the sofa, sleeping features illuminated by the soft glow of the table lamp he couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heartstrings at your effort to wait up for him. Carefully, he pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and laid it over you before putting out the candle you’d accidentally left burning, no wonder it smelt so good in here. But, he didn’t want you to wake up with a bad back in the morning so reluctantly, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Hi, ready to go to bed? You hummed and kissed him softly. Tried to wait up for you. Val smiled and helped you to your feet, before the two of you headed upstairs for a good night's sleep.

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#81. Oscar Piastri

You’d been so excited when you got Oscar’s text that his plane had landed that you were determined to wait up for him - but before long you were out cold, a movie playing in the background and your phone discarded on the floor where it had slipped from your fingers. As he came in he could hear the tv so naturally assumed you were awake, so he would move quickly to get to you - only to find you fast asleep. Oscar smiled gently, picking your phone up off the floor and turning off the tv. He wanted to let you sleep but he’d missed you so dearly, and wanting nothing more than to hear your voice he decided to wake you. Oscar! You beamed, jumping into his arms - wrapping yourself around him. You’re here, you’re home! He nestled himself up in your arms, enjoying the warmth of your body against his - feeling the stress melt away. Definitely worth waking you up for.

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Hope y’all enjoyed this lil something

Didn’t write for Perez and Hulkenburg because I just don’t feel confident or comfortable doing so!

Thank u to @carsgonyoom @vetteltea and @danielfuckingricciardo for letting me annoy u with it first 💙

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daisybianca · 5 months

Text

pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: ruining Lando's live stream is your favorite thing to do when in the mood.

warnings: female masturbation, mention of sexual actions, cursing words

(a/n): lando's recent stream look. I'm unwell.

YOUR HEADPHONES WERE filled with the sweet melody of Taylor Swift's "London Boy" and then you remembered that in the next room of the house you really did have a London Boy waiting for you.

Your boyfriend had one of his usual streams, and it was always your choice to step away from the place where he was doing them and not take part in it. You didn't like the idea of giving fans more content about your relationship than there already was.

By changing the song of the playlist, you settled on something more freaky, like the wreeknd.

Hearing Lando's voice and loud laugh echoing from the next room, you opened the app on your phone and joined his live stream.

Your username was a random name that only Lando recognized.

God, he was so hot.

Messy curly hair, an unbuttoned white t-shirt, and grey plaid pants.

He had heard your wish to let his beard grow long, and you loved every moment of it. Watching the screen intently, listening to his strong accent through the device and from the adjacent wall, you felt your heart flutter loudly. Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw from the screen Lando laughing at something and pulling back, spreading his legs widly while bending his head back.

Swallowing, you decided to write a message in the comments that only he would recognize "Turn off the Stream and come over here. Im in the mood."

A few seconds later, he read it. He didn't say anything. He just smiled.

Again, you chose to write the same comment in case he didn't pay much attention to it the first time.

"I'm not shutting down the live. If anyone wants to tell me something, they can come here and tell me themselves."

You smiled and turned off your phone.

Is that how he wanted it? With games?

He asked and shall receive.

You got out of bed, opening your closet and wearing the most revealing and slutty piece of clothing you owned. You also put on a pair of high heels and began to walk slowly towards the next room.

The door was closed so you touched the handle and began to open it gently.

Two beautiful eyes met yours. Then they scanned you from head to toes.

Whatever Lando was trying to tell his viewers was now forever gone.

His jaw closed and he licked his lips. His eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

Bringing a finger to your lips, you murmued "Shhh."

You felt his eyes follow you as you closed the door and sat comfortably on the couch across from him.

You weren't, of course, visible on the camera. And your boyfriend did his best not to show his viewers the uncomfortable situation he was in. He kept talking, but you were sure he didn't understand what he was saying either.

You stopped looking at him and tried to forget the fact that you had to be discreet because thousands of people were somehow in the room with you.

Spreading your legs, you pushed your warm hand where you wished Lando's was right now.

You immediately shuddered at the very first contact. Twisting your body a little, you gave your boyfriend a better angle of your wet--dripping actually--spot.

His eyes never abandoned you. At one point, you heard him hissing plaid from his breath. "Fuck." His voice made you shudder. "Thats it." He said and closed the live show without saying anything else to his audience.

You stopped the movements and touches on your body and looked at him throwing the headphones on the chair and walking briskly over to you.

That's my boy.

"You want to fucking make me come in front of thousands of people? Huh?" He walked towards you and started unbuttoning his pants. You just smirked and bit your bottom lip. "Acting like a little brat, getting treated like one, right?" He grabbed your neck and forced you to him. After taking one huge taste of your lips, he let you down and removed his white t-shirt. "Open your legs. You're lucky I didn't choose to fuck you live, baby."

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shoot-the-oneshot · 2 months

Text

SOULMATE

Lando Norris x Reader F1 as romance tropes Masterlist

If anyone asked Lando always knew he was going to be an F1 driver. It was his dream, his destiny. Not the words imprinted on his arm.

“At least he’s an F1 driver” were the words that appeared on his 16th birthday. At first, he was ecstatic it was proof not only he had a soulmate but he achieved his dreams. It wasn’t until he’d been at McLaren for a few years the words almost haunted him seeing the other drivers meet theirs and he was still walking down the paddock alone, well almost.

“At least you’ll know immediately when you meet her, mine says “hello” that could be anyone!” His best friend Max spoke seeing the dark look in Landos eyes watching Alex and Lily.

Lando scoffed shaking it off “And she'll only care that I’m a driver not about me.” That was the problem the longer you took to meet the worse his thoughts got.

“You don’t know that, she might just think you’re stupid,” at his friends' words Lando turned to glare at him who held his hands in surrender, “You say stupid stuff sometimes”

“You’re not helping you know.” Anything else Lando wanted to say got cut off by a new visitor.

“How’s it going gents, wait Lando what’s with the murder face?” George spoke as he joined the two men, the black Mercedes race suit a stark contrast with the orange of Landos.

“Lando is pouting watching the happy couple over there.” Max's thumb jutting over his shoulder towards the Williams garage and the other British driver understood while Lando tried to look anywhere but the the man now looking at him with pity

George knew how he felt, he felt like half of himself before he met Carmen. “Carmen has a friend in town for the race Lewis and I were going to all go to dinner why don't you come along and get out of your head for a while”

“Appreciate the offer mate but I don't think being a fifth wheel sounds that fun.”

“Lewis had a last-minute meeting he can’t make it now, you should come so Y/n isn’t lonely” lies George spoke before he thought, Carmen would kill him for this.

“He would love to text him the time and place! See you later George.”

Max shoved his friend who was silently thinking of an excuse so he could go home and drown himself in his sorrows so he was ready to go for the race.

“I'm not going,” Lando spoke as soon as they were alone and started walking again towards McLaren hospitality and into his drivers' room

“No, you’re not going home to sulk this dinner will be good for you, get out and socialize.”

“I don't need to socialize I’m fine where I am” the driver huffed stuffing his clothes into his bag ignoring the look his friend was giving.

“You like George and food this seems like a win-win to me!” Max spoke trying to convince him “And maybe the friend is hot plus you need to get out of this funk it’s depressing now go home and shave that god-awful goate and make yourself presentable”

Ignoring in insult Lando swung his bag over his shoulder and caved.

“Fine I’ll go but only to get as drunk as I can on George's tab” and maybe his friends were right and an easy night out would soothe the ache in his chest.

“I am so glad you’re finally here I’ve only been begging to get you at a race for years!” Carmen exclaimed from her spot on your bed while you picked through your suitcase for something the wear.

“Well this might be my last chance to meet Lewis so I figured I'd take it.” You joked, flashing the 44 hat you brought for the race waving it like a flag as she rolled her eyes at your behavior.

“Better not wear that to the garage George might feel offended.” Carmen sang a smile on her face showing she didn’t mean it

“Listen I love George but just like with Toto Lewis is first in my heart George second.” You laughed dodging the pillow she flung at you.

“Alright come on George will be here soon we can wait downstairs.” Grabbing her bag you followed behind her making small talk as you both waited for the Mercedes to pull up

You fake gagged as George immediately jumped you to open your friends' door with a kiss. “Y/n always a pleasure good to see you again.” He said giving her a quick hug while opening the back door for her to get in the car. Returning the sentiment

“I wonder if they have any shawarma at the restaurant” your friend spoke you could hear the smile in her voice as she teased you obviously payback for your comment earlier.

“Oh wow, that joke still hasn’t gotten old.” You deadpanned making George look at the both of you in confusion not getting the inside joke of your soulmate's words.

Choosing to change the subject you felt excitement filling you the closer to your destination you got

“George I cannot thank you enough for setting this up it’s a dream come true I’ve been watching Lewis race for years!” You smiled while Carmen laughed

“She’s been geeking out over meeting Lewis” she spoke as her boyfriend’s shoulders stiffened.

“Well about that….Lewis had a meeting but don’t worry I already took care of it everything is fine and I promise I’ll introduce you tomorrow.” He rushed out white knuckling the steering wheel as you deflated, you were disappointed but it wasn’t his fault.

“Who’d you invite?” You asked before he could answer he was already parked, he turned in his seat looking back at you.

“We’ve been friends forever… I’m sure it will be fine” You would’ve had more confidence if he didn't pause and have such a nervous smile on his face

Lando who was leaned against the building next to the entrance he’s pretty sure he’s accidentally scared off a few couples from entering with his brooding. He glances up hearing a car pull up his back suddenly straightened as if he was struck by lightning when the back car door opened.

His feet moved faster than his brain as he rushed to hold a hand out helping you out of the car.

A soft smile slid across his face uncharacteristically for his recent mood, but before he could dwell on it he locked eyes with you.

Shyly taking the offered hand you got out of the car slightly shocked by the turn of events not having expected George's friend to behave like that.

“Hi, I’m Y/N nice to meet you.” You spoke looking into a pair of awestruck brown eyes. “Umm hello?”

“Lando!” George shouted when you looked around the group when the other Brit failed to respond in choice of staring

“Lando yeah I’m Lando hi.” The man rushed out then mentally kicked himself when you nodded with a smile that made his mind go black again as you walked ahead with Carmen.

“Mate, what was that?” George spoke staring at the fellow driver whose face was covered with his hands “I don't know….” He groaned.

When they entered the restaurant you and Carmen were already seated Lando ungracefully jumped to the empty seat in front of you as if someone else would take it. Huffing out a smirk when you looked up at the sudden noise.

“Y/n this is Lando he drives for McLaren we grew up karting together along with Alex,” at the mention of Alex, Lando recalled the scene from that morning at deflated back into his seat.

“Nice to meet you I haven’t met to many of the grid yet so I’m glad to have started small.” You smiled across the table, still slightly in a mood he just politely nodded back

“You went golfing with Lily a few months ago didn't you?” George asked hoping to spark Landos' interest which worked flawlessly as the man perked back up.

“You like golf? I played in a tournament with the PGA guys for Netflix”

Out of all the things he had to brag about the Netflix cup is what he chose, god, Max was right he does say stupid stuff sometimes.

“You must be pretty good.” If Lando wasn’t proud of his previous answer his next one wasn’t any better. “Oh yeah, practically just hole-in-ones.” He smiled ignoring the look from the other driver, who tried to subtly yank on his sleeve to get his attention away from the two women who were giggling at his poor attempts at impressing you.

“Anyone who’s played golf with you knows that a lie pull yourself together” George spoke his tone hushed “I’m trying I don't know what’s wrong.”

The two men straightened up as if their little conversation never happened and looked over the menus. Lando who was reading over every sentence trying to collect himself.

“What in the world what is chicken shar-sharwarma chicken shar warma.” Lando stutters out thinking it was surely a typo.

George slammed his menu down on the table and looked over at Lando with the most disappointment he had ever seen on his face.

“What did I just say to you!”

“I’m sorry it’s confusing!”

“Chicken shawarma Lando it is not hard if you can’t say it don't order it!” George barked any rebuttal Lando had gets cut off by Carmens' loud gasp. Making both men turn.

“Oh my god!”

“I know he's a muppet” George who thought she was baffled by his friend just waved it off and went to change the subject before you spoke

“At least he's an F1 driver” Lando froze at your words swearing he felt a tingle on his arm where those very words sat. “Oh my god!” Carmen squealed in excitement at what she was witnessing.

“Plus he's pretty.” You lightly spoke still in shock at finding your soulmate who whined “See why wasn’t that part on there.” Lando threw his hands in the air wishing that’s what he stared at for years.

“Wait you think I’m pretty?” He smirked snapping back into the personality he was known for. His question made a flush appear on your cheeks and Lando is sure he just fell in love harder at the sight.

“Can someone tell me what’s happening?” George demanded seeing his girlfriend tear up and you and Lando doing whatever it was you two were doing.

Lando still on a high leaned his arm on the table rolling his white button-down sleeve to his elbow revealing the words you spoke, not taking his eyes off you the entire time.

“That George, was me meeting my girl.”

The rest of the dinner passed by in a whirlwind, all you could remember was the feeling of meeting your soulmate you never thought you’d say this but you’re glad Lewis had a work obligation or you wouldn’t be walking down the paddock hand and hand with Lando a brand new McLaren hat on your head.

“I’m still upset you threw my hat across the room.” Your words did little to dim the smile on his face, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry love, would a first-place trophy make it better?” He boasted feeling as if he was on top of the world with you by his side.

“Oh big ambitions today, huh, feeling good?”

“With you here, babe I'll be unstoppable, and once I win you have to throw out that dreadful hat I’m the only British driver allowed in your heart now.” He declared, his hand sliding down your arm to grab yours. Pulling you to a stop outside his garage.

“There’s the happy couple!” A new voice shouted from the sea of papaya. Max ran out, making Lando roll his eyes and you smile. You spent the last two days glued to each other so you knew all about his best friend.

“Finally so nice to meet you thank you for showing up and fixing this muppet!”

“I wasn’t a muppet, you muppet!”

“It’s very nice to meet you as well Max.” You interrupted the two before they could get started on the back and forth. Landos attention switching as you spoke threw his arm over your shoulder, a smug expression on his face getting to show you off.

“I know what lover boys words were but what was yours?” Max ashed almost bouncing on his feet in excitement. Lando groans immediately holding his head in your neck.

Rubbing your hand through his curls knowing this was going to be rough on him, you showed Max your other arm. “Mate you wonder why I said she probably thought you were stupid!”

Lando felt your head nodding in agreement making his shoot up to pout at you. “I’m sorry but come on it wasn’t your best moment neither was spilling wine all over the table.”

“He spilled wine! Come tell me everything.” Max gasped, pulling you away from Lando lacing your arm with his leading you down the paddock. Leaving the driver to trail behind the two.

A year later.

A hand came into your view as the car door swung open revealing your fiancé.

“For old times sake huh?” you teased refusing to the time he nearly tripped over himself to get to your door the night you met. Lando fondly rolled his eyes. “You act like I don't always get the door for you.” He bowed exaggeratedly pulling the large glass door open leading to the restaurant.

“Like how you acted like you were a golf expert?” Lando's jaw drooped in mock offense before collecting himself pulling you closer to whisper in your ear.

“Got a hole-in-one with you though didn't I?” You giggled hitting his chest as you reached the table. Lando left to greet George while you sat with Carmen and caught up.

Eventually, the men joined you both again, you only noticed when your chair was dragged to your right until you were pressed against Landos side, who held a menu for you to share. You smiled at his determination to keep you close.

Squeezing your arm which you now knew as his ‘watch this’ motion he winked.

“I think I’ll have the chicken shaworma chicken shar warma!”

“Mate not again!” George groaned while Lando laughed in mirth. Looking around the restaurant hasn’t changed a bit since the last time you were here and yet your entire life had, you now travel with your best friend around the world, and most importantly, found your soulmate

Hey guys we are back! After a very long break i got inspired to write again and while this one isn’t the best the other parts of this series are some of my favorites I’ve written so go check them out here but i do hope you all liked it

<< Charles Leclerc as brothers best friend

F1 tag list: if you want to be added please message me

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thepersonnamedsam · 9 months

Note

hello! i was hoping I could request something between gen z reader x the grid where she gets an anxiety attack or gets really anxious during press and how they would react or try to help her, could be due to something about the race or personal, love uuu<3

you’re gonna go far

pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: social anxiety and social stuff don’t mix very well

word count: 2.3k

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, sexist comments

note: hiya!! yk i love your requests!! thank u <3

i have social anxiety myself, it’s written from my perspective - anxiety is experienced very different, pls remember that! and pls respect anyone who is experiencing anxiety or any mental disorder that is!

masterlist / taglist

We ain’t angry at you, love, you’re the greatest thing we‘ve lost.

The song blasted through her ears, tears started forming in her eyes. She missed home, so, so much. She felt guilty to leave all her friends and family at home to pursue her dreams. And this song, written by the brilliant Noah Kahan, just always made her cry and think about her hometown.

Well, maybe not always, mostly the days her anxiety sparks up - and today was one of those days. Usually media didn’t stress her out, but today was different. Her mood shifted and hyper sensitive, overstimulated and overwhelmed. And she usually had someone she trusted by her side at media, but not today. Today was just shit.

Paired with Lance, Kevin, Sergio and Niko, she just wished the day would be over. She was just glad that Daniel, Max, Oscar and Lewis would be after her, they would maybe wait for them to finish, so she could see them.

She was trying to help her calm down. Thinking about good possibilities and not bad ones. Not about how she would sit stiff and uncomfortable between Lance and Sergio. Or how she and Niko never really got along. Or how she couldn’t seek refuge in a known face. Or how she had to answer all the questions by herself and not have Max there to defend her and be her bodyguard.

And she was doing it again.

What was she gonna do? Breath, just breath - that’s what she told herself. She was in desperate need for a break. She knew what she was getting herself into, but it was still so very much. She was glad that Hungary was the second last race before the summer pause. She would go home, maybe vacation a bit, but definitely head home and see her friends and family.

Her feet dragged her through the media pit against her will. She didn’t want to go there, she just wanted to curl up in her bed with a good book and some music. Her headphones still present on her head, at least she had her music.

She was so focused on the words of You’re gonna go far that she didn’t see Lance in her peripheral vision. He patted her on her back and she flinched as he passed her. He gave her a funny look as she just gave him a shy smile.

She sighed, she didn’t know how she could face this day. She wished she had Lewis or Max or Danny by her side, someone to lean on, someone who would protect her and help her out. But she was all alone in this world right now. That’s what she thought at least.

Sat next to her was Kevin and Sergio. Her leg was bouncing, her fingers couldn’t stop picking at her nails. Her breathing was fast. She knew that things would turn out bad pretty fast. She just knew it.

„So, the next question is for y/n. Seeing as you’re the only woman on the grid, do you feel intimidated by all of the men or do you actually like the challenge?“

Her mind raced. What? She wished for Max who would give a sassy comeback or for Lewis to out the comment as borderline sexist. Or just anyone to stand up for her at that moment, but no one did.

„Uh, thank you for your question. Uhm, I am not the only woman on the grid. There are lots of women working behind the scenes - mechanics, engineers, catering, strategists, everything. So, to answer your question, no, I don’t feel intimidated, because I know that I come from a powerful gender.“

Her answer was clip and clear, not even her voice was shaking, which she half expected to. But the interviewer grew visibly irritated.

„Can you go into it a bit more? Or could you please comment on the statement Christian Horner did? Here, I’ll refresh your mind: F1 is bringing in a young generation. It’s bringing in a lot of young girls because of all these great-looking young drivers.“

What had that to do with his question beforehand? Horner made that statement a longer time ago?

„Uhm yes, obviously we all know Christian by now, don’t we?“, she nervously laughed. „But uhm, he is obviously still wrong, like I originally commented when he first made that statement“ Her eyes were searching for something or someone familiar, but she couldn’t. Her vision occupied by interviewers and flashing cameras.

Her breath started to get faster, She tried to breath through her nose, not make it too obvious that she was having a moment. This would make headlines. Female driver gets anxiety attack whilst commenting on sexist statements.

Why wasn’t Lewis there? He knew what to do. He had caught her like this before - breathing rapid, fists clenched and fingers white. Eyes not focusing on anything particular and her chest heaving up and down from all her heavy breathing.

It was after she had found out that people were speculating about her - specifically that she had to sleep with her or any team principal to get her seat in F1. Her head was leaned against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest and her body was rocking back and forth.

„y/n, y/n, listen, look at me. Listen to me, can you please look at me, love?“, he pleaded. And when she finally did, Lewis let out a breath of relief. „Okay, look at me, darling, and follow my breathing, yes? It’s easy, you can do it, I believe in you.“

He grabbed her hands and put them to his own chest, so she could feel his breathing. Feel his calm heartbeat, even though he felt anything opposite calm. He looked her deep into her eyes and tried to reassure that everything was going to be alright.

„You’re gonna go far, y/n, listen to me, I know it, you’re gonna make it far.“

Her breathing had normalised and the tears stuck in her eyes, finally flowed down her cheeks. The soon turned into full on sobs and the older driver hugged the younger one. Embracing her and reassuring her, that none of the drivers would have believed the tabloids - they’ve seen her driving and know very well why she got offered her seat in F1.

She had thanked him about a thousand times and made him promise not to ever tell anyone. But if somebody else knew, maybe they could’ve helped her in this situation.

But luckily for y/n, this was all broadcast live, well, maybe not for her per se, because she knew about too many people were watching her lose herself on live television and her PR manager couldn’t just pull some magic strings to not have this air, but what she didn’t know was, that Seb was watching - her specifically.

And he did the only reasonable thing he could do, he called Lewis.

„Hey dude, what’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a long time. How’s retirement treating you?“ Lewis had a lot of questions for the German. The later laughed a bit, but turned serious pretty quickly. „Listen, I’m watching the pre-race interviews right now-“ Lewis interrupted him: „Yeah? I’m on next, you should definitely wait and see me on TV then.“

„Yeah that’s great Lew, but y/n is on right now. I think- no I’m pretty sure she’s having an anxiety attack on live television.“

Lewis was silent for a moment. „She is having what?“ - „An anxiety attack, you know what that is? It’s, uhm, when you get too overwhelmed and your psyche tells you that you’re experiencing immense fear at the moment and“, Lewis was tuning him out.

She was having an anxiety attack? Right now? During the pre-race interview? He had to help her.

„I’m on my way, thanks Seb“, and he hung up. He had to get there as fast as he could. Sprinting through the entire paddock to the media pin. On the way he almost crashed into Max, who was also making his way to the pin, Daniel by his side. The only looked at Lewis weird but soon we’re running with him, as he shouted: „It’s y/n!“

They arrived but no one wanted to let them in: „It’s not your turn yet, they’re still going. You have to wait until it’s your turn, you’ll be on in 10.“

„Listen, y/n, if you’re reacting this way to my question, you’re clearly not made for this sport, maybe you should go into something more ladylike, like horseback riding or tennis, at least you’d look pretty there.“

„And you’re clearly not made to interviews, asshole!“

All of them heard, the viewers heard, the drivers heard, the interviewers heard, but y/n was the only one who didn’t hear it.

Maybe you should go into something more ladylike, like horseback riding or tennis, at least you’d look pretty there. That was all she could hear. At least you’d look pretty there.

The other drives next to y/n didn’t know what to do. Their colleague was definitely having a though time, but they didn’t know how to help, they opted to just tilt their heads towards the floor and look just as uncomfortable as everyone in the room did - but no one stood up for her, expect Max.

„Maybe you should just fucking leave this pit before I will bash your disgusting face. Maybe you should scramble and flee. Maybe you should eat your on dick as you seem to like to put tiny and degrading things in your mouth. Maybe-“, Daniel stopped him, Max has said enough and made his point.

Lewis was already making his way up to her. Scooping her up and carrying her out of the pit.

At least you’d look pretty.

The sentence was going through her head like a loop, like a vinyl that’s broken and repeats all the worst parts. She felt like a broken record - cracked and well, broken.

„She‘s hyperventilating“, Danial pointed out. „Yeah no shit, sherlock.“ - „Max, let’s just focus on her right now, okay?“, the seven time world champion told the two time world champion. „Who’s garage is the nearest?“, Lewis asked into the round. „The Ferrari one is the first one on the grid“, Daniel said. „Let’s go then.“

Daniel led the way, fetching Lando on the way, she’d appreciate the support from the youngster. Even though he complained a lot to Danny.

„Don’t look, don’t look, we’re just passing through“, Daniel said as he tried to shield her and Lewis from all the cameras in the Ferrari garage. „What are you guys doing here?“, Carlos questioned, but as soon as he saw the crying mess in Lewis‘ arms he helped Daniel shield y/n. Carlos led them to Charles‘ side of the garage, as he had his closed off for anyone from the outside.

„What’s going on?“, a confused Charles asked the group now standing in his garage. „Charles, we need to go somewhere quiet, is that possible?“, Lewis asked the Ferrari driver. He nodded and led them to his drivers room, even though it was pretty tiny and probably wouldn’t fit all of them in it.

They set y/n on his sofa and Lewis was hovering in front of her. Lando sat on her right side, while Max was on her left. He took her hand in his, squeezing it, so she knew that he was there. „Hey y/n look at me. We’re in Charles‘ drivers room, in the Ferrari garage. Away from the media pit, okay? You’re safe with us now“, Lewis told her. „Breath with us.“

„In and out, just like that, darling, follow Lewis‘ breathing“, Daniel complimented y/n. „You’re doing great, shatje. So, so great. We’re all so proud of you.“

„You can let it all out, we won’t judge you“, Charles told her and just as he did, the dam broke. Her tears fell down onto her knees, she sobbed uncontrollably. She leaned her head on Landos shoulder and he pulled her close into his side. „You’re doing so well, love.“ - „Just keep breathing, don’t forget to breath“, Carlos told her. He was standing in the doorway with Charles, acting as bodyguards.

Danny walked around the room, trying to find something for y/n to drink out of. „Hey Charles, do you have some water or a bottle?“ The driver clad in red reacted fast and brought the Australian a tall glass of water. He brought y/n the glass and she had to stop crying to drink. Afterwards she got the hiccups. „There, there love, everything’s okay“, Lewis took her glass and patted her knee. „Remember what I told you? You’re gonna go far, okay? Don’t let that prick tell you otherwise.“

„At least you’d look pretty there.“

„Huh?“, the room asked, as she mumbled the sentence.

„At least you’d look pretty there. That’s what he said“, she looked up from her seat, to the room full of supporting people. „At least you’d look pretty.“

Max was so angry again, he could’ve killed that man, if it wasn’t for Daniel holding him back. „I am going to kill that man“, Max growled. y/n giggled: „Maxie, don’t, he doesn’t deserve death. He deserves to live a long, pitiful life.“

„We’re glad you’re laughing again, y/n“, Charles said. „Yes, very much so.“ Everyone agreed with Charles. „I love you guys, but how’d you even know that I was having a tough time?“, y/n asked confused. Lewis had to laugh: „Seb called me. Said he saw you on the TV all riled up and ready to cry and that I should already be on my way to help you, but I talked over him the whole time“ He scratched his neck and y/n laughed a loud belly laugh. „That’s so typical!“

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #fernando alonso #genz driver #sebastian vettel x reader #kevin magnussen #nico hülkenberg #lance stroll #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #female driver #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader

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st4rg1rl-16 · 2 months

Text

━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ in a club max, lando and carlos make a plan to discover if the ferrari drivers are in a relationship, how? making charles jealous!

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ barcelona, spain

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ they are in a club so alcohol consumption jealous!charles, the boys being the little shits they are, fingering (wait what?!) lewis kinda flirting with bella?

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I been MIA I know, sorry for that but here it is!!and things are starting to get heatedddd

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90 @wcnorris

• — need for speed’s masterlist

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻

♡ liked by 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵, 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 and 𝟴𝟲.𝟬𝟲𝟴 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 After revolutionizing not only the motorsport world but also our hearts, Arabella Torres is crowned with the title of the new "it girl" of Europe.

"I've spent this last month hating my body and I'm tired of pretending that everything is fine" The Formula One driver opens up to us showing us her most vulnerable side about hate on social media and several other topics in the interview for the 200th issue of our magazine, now available on 💥 our link💥

Text: 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗿

Interview: 𝘁𝗼𝗺_𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁_𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

Photograph: 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸_𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱_𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼

Styling: 𝗺𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗷𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗼𝗱𝘂

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 have been tagged

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 🏎️🏎️🏎️

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 😍

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭 Wait, I’m running to get it

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟮 I wasn’t a big fan of her but since I saw the live I love her

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 the same happened to me

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟰 Sorry for my ignorance, but what happened? I just got into the fandom.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 Last month she was sexualized a lot on twitter because some youtubers uploaded a video and mentioned sexual things about her body, she went viral and began to have even more hate than she already had and made a live saying that she was going to leave social media for a while and then talked about how bad she felt, how it was a shame for her family and how it was “staining” her career. She basically talked about how bad it is to sexualize and also took out things like sexism and things like that (+)

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 (+) Then she left social media and we only saw her in the Shanghai and Azerbaijan gps and during these four weeks a lot of celebrities have talked about her and she has gone viral and now she is like the “it girl”.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟱 ooooh, thanks for the explanation 💖

𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗿𝗶 That’s our girl!! 😌

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 muchas gracias por darme esta oportunidad! 🤍thank you very much for giving me this opportunity!

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟲 aww she is so cute, why do people hate her?

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟳 Unfortunately there are many people throwing hate at her even though she is a great person

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 Te queremos, Arabella! 🥰 We love you!

𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 ARABELLA TOOOOOOOORRESSSSSSSSS

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 and 𝟭𝟮𝟳 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 liked this comment

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟴 my ship 🥺

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟵 What they've done to her is horrible, now she hates her body when she's beautiful

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟬 I would kill for having a body like hers

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟭 that’s how society works 🙂

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟮 she is probably going to get even more hate after this

"IT would be awesome if your first victory was in Spain" Oliver's smile was focused by the camera. His mother snapped her tongue looking at him with reprimand.

"Oli, son, don't swear on the table, please" The boy looked at his mother and gave her his most charming smile.

"Yes, mommy" The woman rolled her eyes and threw her napkin in his face so he complained while her husband laughed.

Arabella smiled watching the familiar scene unfolding in front of her. The truth was that she had missed it, after so many months away from them and seeing each other only by casual video calls, it was nice to be all together even if the whole family was not yet there because her parents had traveled to Barcelona, where her next race was going to be, with her brother the previous week to celebrate the birthday of the youngest of the Torres family and now a week later her grandparents, her uncles, aunts and her cousins were still to arrive so that everyone could attend the race on Sunday because they wanted to support Arabella in their native country. But this was nice, she had missed hearing her brother's nonsense, her mother acting like a mother and talking about cars with her father. She missed a normal life that she had never had.

"By the way" Her father caught her attention, turned her gaze to him drinking from her glass full of sangria. She saw out of the corner of her eye how she pointed to the team of Netflix’s cameras that surrounded them in the garden of the house they had rented during their stay in Barcelona “Do we have to speak in English or...?”.

Marisa, her mother, let out an disgusted moan “Oh, with how much I struggle with English”.

The green-eyed boy laughed as he nibbled at the chicken wing that his fingers were holding “I still don't understand how you don't know English, mom. Your children are literally international athletes, you should know English”.

"I know English" The eyes of the same color as that of her two children opened in the direction of the teenager before she began to speak in English with a very strong Spanish accent "How are you? I'm fine, thank you!” She smiled with self-centeredness, pointed to herself “See? what your mother doesn't know how to do...”

“Jeez" The girl murmured, sticking her lips to the glass again while her brother burst into laughter, almost chocking with the wing.

The one wearing the glasses looked at his wife with a small smile, obviously trying to hid the laughter that was about to come out, and winked at her “Of course, honey! you are good at everything”.

Her brother's smile increased when their mother smiled sending a kiss to their father, clearly not grasping the intention of his words. Arabella shook her head but still a smile had made room in her full lips, she left the glass on the table and lay down on her chair after making a sandwich with the chorizos that her father had cooked on the barbecue.

"It's for the Netflix’s Formula One docuseries" She spoke with her mouth full, making her mother look at her badly but she didn't see her because she was looking at her father. She shrugged her shoulders turning her gaze to the sandwich before giving it another bite “They wanted to see what my private life is like and we speaks in Spanish so no. Speak in Spanish, period”.

"But your private life so fucking boring" She looked at her brother badly while her teeth crushed the food in her mouth, he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Oh, really? Okay, okay, I don't invite you to the party tonight then” She smiled evilly at what the moto driver let out a gasp bringing his hand to his chest.

"So rude, sister" He shook his head "So rude”.

A pleasant silence covered the table after her brother's words. Manuel, her father, shared smiles with his wife while they watched their children eat. They had also missed the family moments and were grateful to be together, especially after what their daughter had gone through thanks to the internet.

"Then will you go out tonight?" The man cleared his throat, turning his gaze to his firstborn, who nodded.

"It's been the boys' idea" She rolled her eyes “They've just arrived and they already want to party”.

"Don't you have the classification tomorrow?" She nodded to her brother's question and grimaced when she felt their mother's gaze on her.

"Arabella Torres González, don't even think about drinking tonight." She raised her finger and pointed at her accusively. The girl nodded while father and son looked at each other knowing that she was indeed going to drink. The blonde turned her gaze to her plate when she began to cut a piece of bacon “If you drink, don't drive”.

"I wasn't going to go drunk to practice, but well" She murmured, giving the last bite to the bread. She wiped his lips with the napkin that was next to her plate.

The only brown eyed let out a breath of air when the cold Coca Cola passed through his throat and smiled “Well, I think it's great that you go out, honey. Especially after everything that has happened”.

She nodded, offering a smile to her father before looking down at her plate, a common reaction she had to the mention of the twitter situation.

"Do you think you're going to win?" She heard her brother ask and although she thanked him mentally because she knew that he had changed the subject to entertain her, she couldn't help to, without knowing why, tense.

Being honest, she knew why: everyone's eyes would be on her, not only because it was going to be the first time she was going to race in her country since she in formula one, but because of the same issue she was trying to avoid. She had disappeared since what happened, the only time the media could see her was in the Azerbaijan race and they didn't even see her too much because she refrained from doing interviews or any kind of media in addition to the fact that she had moved away from social media even closing her twitter account temporarily after announcing on Instagram live that she was tired of the comments towards her body.

She had managed to hide well from the paparazzi and that had made people talk about, the whole gossip magazines was talking about her and not only them because even in the sports they had mentioned her situation which had caught the attention of many celebrities, especially women, who defended her from the internet trolls and praised her for continuing with her sportiness above all. Her popularity had risen like foam and the contracts and offers of all kinds of brands had not taken long to reach her manager's email. The first offer they had accepted had been to be the cover of the May issue of GQ Magazine where she had taken the opportunity to talk about how the online comments about her body had affected her, which was something quite healing for her, being able to talk loudly about it because she had been keeping it to herself.

Before she didn’t give too much importance to her body, focused since she was a child on cars and nothing else had not gone through that stage in which insecurities about her physique tormented her but that controversy had provoked it. She had suffered a mini crisis in which she was never very hungry, she spent hours looking at her reflection in the mirror thinking that it was what was wrong with her, her wardrobe had changed to a more comfortable and wide one that did not reveal more than the minimum of skin and the salt of her tears was the only thing that fed her.

She wasn't proud of herself, far from it, but what could you wait for? She was just an eighteen-year-old girl receiving hatred everywhere, although none of those people had a face to look at when she read those insults Arabella could not prevent them from affecting her. And although she was much better now, after talking to Sebastian –who was on a plane on his way to Spain, because unfortunately he hadn’t been able to attend Azerbaijan– as if he were her personal psychologist and spending time with her family, she could not help but tense every time something reminded her of the small trauma she had experienced.

She closed her eyes inhaling and exhaling "I have a good feeling but I don't want to jinx it”.

Her mother's hand curled up on hers, looked up to see her and immediately felt a warmth and security invade her body causing her to relax her tense shoulders. Marisa González smiled sweetly at her daughter "No matter what happens, we will be proud of you, cariño. Okay?”.

She bit her lower lip feeling her eyes begin to sting, she nodded "Okay" Her voice came out more raspy than usual, causing the woman to get up from her seat and approach her daughter to hug her.

"THIS is so awkward" A somewhat drunk Lando looked worriedly at his teammate while he rolled his eyes denying. He pushed his arm when he saw him “Carlos! What do we do? I can't keep this secret that is eating me alive”.

"It's not a secret because we don't know if it's true" He leaned over to take his glass from the small table in front of the sofa on which they were both sitting and drank from it.

He was going to need alcohol to survive the night.

He opened his eyes in an exaggerated and paranoid way “What do you mean, Carlos? Look at them, they look like cats in heat!” He extended both arms towards the dance floor where they could see Arabella dancing with Daniel and Pierre while Charles was next to George at the bar, neither of the two pending the presence of the other to the very opposite of what number 4 had said.

A "Mmh" sounded on the other side and they both quickly turned their heads to see the Dutchman sitting on the other sofa. The McLaren's idiots opened their eyes with surprise when they remembered that the Red Bull driver was with them.

"So, do you think Arabella and Charles are together?" He raised one of his eyebrows, curious because he swore to have seen things among the members of the red team but he had not yet mentioned his suspicions to anyone.

"Don't tell anyone, but yes”.

"It's not that we believe it, it's that we know it" The British raised his index finger to emphasize his words.

"Oh, really? How?” Max moved in his seat, approaching them to try to get information from them because he had decided not to drink that night so he was bored as he watched his friends and co-workers approach the ethyl coma.

The curly-haired one approached him too, looking over his shoulder to prevent unwanted ears from hearing their conversation “Have you seen how they look at each other? Or at least how Charles looks at her? She is more discreet but he is not and clearly that look is not from friends”.

"Mmm" The 33 rubbed his chin before a mischievous smile crept into his lips "Maybe we can make them confess”.

"Ohhhhh" Lando laughed while Carlos pursed his lips.

"I don't know, guys" He denied taking another sip from his glass "We shouldn't get in, I also think they're angry at each other”.

"Yes” Verstappen’s blue eyes moved to the spaniard "I've noticed it too, they're acting weird. They don't talk much”.

Norris let out a moan of protest while patting his thigh “Now that we have something to entertain ourselves, they go and break up”.

"Shut up, shut up!" The eldest of the three exclaimed between his teeth when he saw Pierre and Arabella approaching the VIP zone, the reflections of the lights colliding against the brightness of the girl's skirt almost blinded him "They're coming, they're coming”.

Pierre let go of the girl's hand and dropped with a sigh on the sofa next to Max, who looked at him raising both eyebrows making the Frenchman smile at him unwillingly “God, i’m dead”.

"But we barely have danced, P” The girl who was still standing laughed, Carlos moved making room for her but she denied leaning a hand on his shoulder. She made puppy eyes “Carlitos, you coming to dance with me”.

He shook his head without looking at her because he knew he was going to give in if he kept looking at her “No, no, I'm okay here”.

"Oh, come on!" She complained before taking his hand and began to pull him but it was of little use. Releasing a blow, she sat next to him and took the cup, earning a complaint from him “You are the only one with whom I can sing the songs, this useless frenchie doesn’t know the lyrics”.

"Sorry for not knowing Spanish!" The other exclaimed as he raised both arms "I already know English and Italian and that is more than enough”.

"Hey, what about Daniel?" The Dutchman frowned when he realized that his former teammate was not in the group.

"He found a girl" The girl shrugged her shoulders accepting the glass of the other spaniard when he took a sip and then hand in it to her again.

Immediately everyone let out complaints in unison and she laughed because she knew why. They had decided to ignore the hotels and rent a house all together to be able to stay a couple more days in the country and, well, they were going to have to listen to the australian and his fling all night.

"Can I sleep with you today?" Carlos looked at her horrified because he was the one who had his room next to Ricciardo's, she denied what he opened his mouth in pain "Why not?"

"Because you don't want to dance with me" She was busy arguing with him so she didn't notice when Max collided his knee with Lando's to get his attention, once the boy looked at him he nodded to the girl opening his eyes.

"What?" He asked in a confused whisper to what Max rolled his eyes and Pierre approached them, curious about what was happening.

"Go dance with her so we can make Charles jealous”.

"Why is Charles going to get jealous because Bella dances with Lando?" Pierre looked at them strangely, he was not surprised about a jealous Charles because, obviously, he had also realized the feelings of his friends, what he didn’t understand was why was he going to feel jealous of the little boy of the McLaren team.

A demonic smile was planted on the full lips of the much acclaimed lion “You'll see”.

With his gaze he pointed to the duo that was approaching them and Gasly nodded impatiently to see how the Dutchman's plan unfolded.

"Bells" The voice of the curly haired one came out high and both the 10 and the 33 had to put their hands to their mouths to avoid laughing. The girl looked at him expectantly but smiling, he swallowed saliva feeling nervous suddenly “I can dance with you, if you want”.

She nodded before getting up and extending her hand towards him, who didn't take long to take her between his much larger one and let himself be guided by her to the dance floor. Along the way they met Charles and George, his blueish green eyes collided with the greens of the Monegasque who clearly did not look very happy at the image in front of him. He swallowed again, praying mentally that the elder would not end up beating him up. The girl in front of him kept pulling him, completely ignoring her teammate but not without giving a smile to her other British friend who responded by raising both thumbs.

Fuck he thought when the reggaeton song of which he didn't know how to pronounce its name changed to Reminder by The Weeknd. A wave of screams filled his ears when the first chords filled the nightclub, he watched as the sweaty bodies stuck even more when he heard the song and suddenly he felt that the shirt that decorated his torso was too small for him. He hooked his index finger on the neck to relieve the sensation a little but it didn't work too much.

His eyes went down to the girl in front of him, despite wearing heels she was still shorter than him so he could see the club above her head. He bit the inside of his cheek when they finally found a clear space on the track and turned around to look at him.

She analyzed him from top to bottom before showing him a nice smile "If you want we can go back, Lan. It's okay”.

He immediately denied “No, no, it's fine. Let's dance, that's what we've come for, right?”.

"Okay, but if you feel uncomfortable, tell me" She stood on her tippy toes to reach his ear because Abel Tesfaye's voice was too loud. The boy closed his eyes when he smelled her perfume “Okay?”.

She separated from him, enough so that they could look at each other's face but not so that their bodies would stop being against each other. He nodded speechlessly looking into her eyes and she smiled funny before taking her hands and placing them on her hips to which the boy opened his eyes wide making her throw her head after laughing.

"They are just hips, Lando!"

"Yeah, i know, but... don't blame me" He laughed too.

On the other side of the nightclub, their friends watched them as if they were the best show in the world while Charles felt that he was going about to throw up. He squeezed his grip on the glass that was in his hands without looking away from the young drivers, who now danced very close to each other. It should be him who was there moving his body next to hers, it should be him who had his hands on her hips, it should be him who had his arms around her neck. It should be him and not Lando.

"They would make a good couple" He heard Sainz speak, who was looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought that if she would date with one of us it would be Max" All the eyes, including Charles's, went to George, who had not realized that he had become the center of attention because he was very distracted on his mission to catch with his straw a gummie that was at the bottom of his glass.

The named one frowned “With me?”.

Pierre moved in his seat offended "Yes, what do you mean with Max?" Why not with me?”.

The Spaniard laughed scratching his leg over the fabric of his jeans “Don't you have a girlfriend?”.

"Shut up, Carlos. This is important” The Frenchman raised his hand trying to block the Spanish's face.

Russell's bulging eyes rose to look at his colleagues “I mean... I don't know, between Max and Bella there is like this strange tension but at the same time they get along well. I guess it will be because they are both so focused about beating Hamilton but I thought they would end up together”.

The green eyes of the number 16 traveled to his childhood rival, his desire to throw up became even stronger when he saw that he was struggling not to let out a smile. He knew that he had liked the British's words and although he couldn’t blame him because, to be honest, they were all young men and she was practically a goddess so he was not too surprised that he was not the only one interested in her.

"Mmmh" Pierre's lips furrowed in agreement. "Yeah, they wouldn't look bad together. It would be kind of enemies on the track to lovers off the track, it would make sense”.

Russell pointed it at him “Right?”.

"But she and Lando have already kissed" After Verstappen's words, everyone looked at him strangely.

Carlos let out a high-pitched squeal “It was you who interrupted them!”.

"Yes" He laughed nodding as he drank from his glass, he moved his gaze towards the boy sitting next to him.

"Well, Landito has a lot of advantage then" Carlos' honey eyes returned to the dance floor causing the others to imitate him. The youngest pair of the group were dancing as close as they could to each other, they were sure that not even a pen could fit between them, Arabella was with her back to him with her arms hanging from his neck while Lando hid her face in her neck and his hands kept a firm grip on the girl's waist.

"Do you think they will fuck tonight?" The dirty blond with a beard smiled like a kid, entertained by the reaction of his best friend but also happy that his friends got some kind of action.

"Looks like it”.

Before Max's words, he squeezed the glass so much that it exploded, attracting the attention of others and even of some people around them. He felt the cold liquid from his cup pierce the fabric of his pants when he released the last piece of glass that he was still holding in his hands. He waved his hand to get rid of the liquid and let Carlos take it to inspect that no crystal had been stuck in his skin.

"Fuck, Leclerc" The one with the raspy voice handed him napkins from the napkin holder that was on the low table in the center of the sofas.

He looked back at the dance floor ignoring how Carlos called a waitress or how Pierre and Max tried to clean the mess by throwing an unnecessary amount of napkins on the floor. Suddenly he was relieved when he saw the dark-haired British boy walking towards the table, with no trace of the brunette next to him.

"What happened?" Lando's disheveled eyebrows came together when he saw his friends trying to clean the floor and Charles soaked from top to bottom.

The monegasque had to look away from the boy when he noticed a mark of lipstick of the same color as the one Arabella wore on his cheek. He got up abruptly releasing a quick "I'm going to the bathroom" before leaving.

He walked through the club as if the devil himself was behind him, he ignored the screams of the people when the song changed and also the looks of the Spanish girls on him in addition to their whispers. Once he reached the hallway where the bathroom was, he let out a sigh, his knuckles had turned white from how hard he was squeezing his fists. He leaned against the wall taking advantage of the fact that the hallway was empty and sighed, bringing a hand to his hair.

Damn the day he met Arabella Torres. Since that day, everything that could have gone wrong was going wrong. He didn't blame her but the damn fate for playing with him that way.

He leaned his head on the wall, looking at the ceiling and thought that it wasn’t as he had expected the night to be. He had gone to the party hoping to be able to talk to her and fix their problems but no, she hadn’t even give a single look to him and that drove him crazy because since their fight and having left him lying in her driver’s room they hadn’t spoken, except for some video that the Ferrari stuff had forced them to record for the YouTube channel and little else. They hadn't even seen each other since the last race, they were supposed to have flown together from Azerbaijan to Barcelona but Arabella had run away to Madrid to celebrate her brother's birthday with her family so it had been almost two weeks since they had last seen each other.

For a moment he wondered what his life would have been like if maybe they were in different teams or if they were normal people and met at a party like this or maybe at college. Everything would have been very different and much easier.

He moved his head following the rhythm of the song without knowing that the lyrics said because it was in spanish and sighed when he heard the door of one of the bathrooms open, he looked down even without separating his head from the wall.

Oh, what a coincidence.

"What happened to your pants?" Arabella was in front of him, looking with a frown at the dark spot that covered much of the fabric that covered his leg.

"My glass exploded" He replied in a hoarse voice because he had not said a word almost all night. He observed her through his long eyelashes, trying to memorize the image in front of him before she ignored him again.

"Ah, good luck cleaning that then" She squeezed her lips and began to turn, ready to get out of there, to run away from him again but he prevented her by grabbing her wrist. She froze in his place, she had missed his touch, she let out a sigh trying to stay calm “Charles, let me go”.

"Why?" A cynical smile stood on his lips "Are you in a hurry to go back to Lando?".

He saw how she tilted her head to the side before she let go of his grip and turned around, he saw how she looked at him confused.

“What does Lando have to do with this?”.

"I've seen how he was kissing your neck and how you danced very close. Too close to be just friends" Everything around Charles was red, as red as the cars they drove or the uniforms they wore on weekends. He was jealous and drunk and didn't think too clearly because they both knew that he wasn't like that. Arabella looked at him strangely, she never seen him that way “What, have you already found my replacement?”.

"What the fuck?" She murmured in spanish. The girl was surprised and as incredible as it may seem, turned on.

"Maybe you can go to McLaren" He bowed his head as his gaze went from her eyes to his lips "But you know that orange will never look as good as red on you”.

She immediately realized that it was a metaphor and wanted to laugh but was too confused to do so. The alcohol in her system next to Charles' perfume wasn't really helpful. She knew that he was playing a game and that if she followed it she could get burned but everyone knew that Arabella Torres was reckless and that she liked danger.

Her confused expression changed, Charles couldn’t describe it but when she began to shorten the distance between them he began to walk backwards, unconsciously entering the women's bathroom, which was empty thank God. He felt his mouth dry when he saw that the girl's hand went to her chest where she began to play with the buttons of the shirt she was wearing “I'm not sure if the red fits me so well” Slow but very slowly she unbuttoned the first buttons revealing a red lace bra. She gathered his eyebrows looking at him with feigned curiosity and in an innocent tone asked him "What do you think?"

He blinked a couple of times before looking up at her. He cursed in French before shortening the distance and smashing his lips against hers. He passed his hand through his neck entangled his fingers between the soft waves of brown hair, closed his fist and pulled her hair forcing her to walk towards the sink. Her ass hit the edge of the marble board making her moan in his mouth because his free hand was squeezing her butt making the Prada's skirt rise and she could feel the cold marble against her skin. The moan in his mouth made him smile, his hands moving from top to bottom through her body caressing her barely covered skin thanks to the open shirt and the short skirt.

Her hands traveled to the boy's neck, one of them taking over the small strands that were born on the back of his neck causing Charles to open his lips but not move them, he stayed in his place watching as she twisted under his touch, the smug smile he had on his lips made her know that he was enjoying it. The tips of his bangs stuck to her skin thanks to the thin space between their foreheads tickling her, which was making her nervous.

Arabella let out a small moan when she felt his right hand go up from her ass to her naked thigh and go through the bottom of her skirt to her underwear. He kissed her again as he pressed with his finger –she wouldn’t know which one– against the fine red lace garment that separated her skin from the contact of his hand.

For a second she thought that she had reached glory when she felt how he was pressing even harder but she fell from the cloud when he separated. She looked at him frowning at what he gave her a smile of apology before asking her with his eyes if she was okay and comfortable with that.

At another time maybe she would have thought it was cute but she was drunk and horny so she could only roll her eyes and take his hand with hers to place it back on her panties “For God's sake, Charles. Just do it”.

This time it was she who joined their lips, ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself as hard as she could against him while their tongues fought each other. She let herself be embraced by his pleasant smell and the thousand sensations she felt when he was like this with her.

She released her grip on his hair and took her hands along a path from his neck to his chest where she took the shirt in her fists and, in one movement, pulled it breaking the buttons making them fly. He walked away from her when he heard the buttons touch the ground, he looked at them without expression before turning his gaze towards her, raising an eyebrow looking at her between his eyelashes. She bit her lip because, let's be honest, he looked too good looking at her like that from that angle.

"I'll buy you a new one" She went to tell him, but before she opened her mouth, he screwed his hands on the back of her thighs, causing her to let out a small choked scream in surprise when she didn't feel the ground under her feet.

She hissed when the cold of the marble hit the skin of her thighs although she was silent when she felt Charles' hands raise her skirt more to have better access between her legs. The monegasque released the garment when he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her without raising his face, giving a dark touch to his gaze. They watched each other in silence for a few seconds until Charles took his right hand to her jaw and kissed her quickly, separated from her but not enough so that their breaths didn’t mix and took his fingers to her lips.

"Open your mouth" He murmured still holding her gaze, the girl obeyed by letting his fingers pass between her lips meanwhile he looked down at her mouth “Suck”.

He watched with delight as the girl's swollen lips closed around his digits, he felt her tongue playing with them. He looked into her eyes and found that she was already looking at him and almost moaned at that moment.

"Merde, mon ange" He cursed when she let go of his fingers making a pop resonate through the empty bathroom. Shit, my angel.

"Charles..." She said his name in a sigh. He looked at her expectantly with his fingers still touching her lips, the skin of her mouth stained by the red lipstick collided with his finger tips surely staining them too “Charles, please”.

"Please, what?" His voice came out in a murmur but she still heard him and of course she did because the only thing she could hear, feel and smell was him. She was drunk but the alcohol wasn’t what the room had circling around her but him.

She hated Charles Leclerc, she hated the effect he had on her, she hated that even though she was angry with him she felt the stupid need to feel his skin against hers, she hated that they couldn’t be together, she hated that he was playing with her that way, she hated that it made her question every damn aspect of his life. She hated him.

Damn Leclerc and his perfect eyes.

She squeezed her grip on his shirt and kissed the fingers that hadn’t yet separated from her lips before looking at him through her long eyelashes with the most pleading look she could give him "I need you. Please”.

Pathetic, she thought for a moment but the boy's hands rolling up on the fabric that covered her private parts returned her to reality or at least to that bubble in which they had both locked themselves. She rested her hands on the white marble countertop and raised her hips to help him slide the garment down her legs before he made a gap between them and kissed her abruptly.

She felt how the tips of his fingers caressed the inside of her thighs until he reached his destination. She felt how they grazed her folds, covering them with her juices and she groaned in his mouth when she felt him slowly rubbing her clit.

The boy broke the kiss by grabbing her neck when she saw that she made the move of throwing her head back “Was that what you wanted?” His voice was so calm, in contrast to how trembling her breathing was “Did you want my fingers, mmh?”.

"Please" She groaned and he pressed his fingers harder.

She let out a gasp when his fingers slightly touched her entrance, pushed her hips against his hand desperate for his touch, that caused him to laugh. He put one of his fingers inside and a soft moan came out of her, hips moving again to look for some kind of liberation “More” She complained in a murmur under the intense gaze of the boy.

"More?" He smiled and inserted another finger, feeling the walls tighten around his fingers, his hand moving to equalize the movements of her hips, putting in and pulling out his finger being able to hear the wet sounds.

The whining and moans began to get stronger, the nails stuck strongly in the skin of his shoulder on the fabric of his shirt and he moaned at the sensation, looking at her as he fucked her with his fingers.

Arabella thought that not only did his fingers feel incredible, but he also looked so good in front of her and just by looking at him touching her she thought he could send her to the limit. His thumb went up to rub her clit causing her to sink her teeth into her lower lip, the sensation became too intense.

"I'm so c-close" She groaned and he straightened up, crashing his lips in hers, their tongues dancing in a passionate kiss while his fingers pushed into her faster and deeper. The fluids ran through his hand while his thumb applied even more pressure. She felt so overwhelmed that she couldn't even keep up with the kiss, she was too focused on how well her fingers felt inside her.

And just when she began to feel those tickles in her lower belly that she had rarely felt in her life, everything stopped making her open her eyes abruptly. She looked at the boy in front of her confused and moaned when she felt how her disconnected their bodies.

“Charles...”.

His free hand squeezed on the back of her neck, he approached her ear and she heard how he smiled, "You're right, red doesn't look that good on you.

He walked away from her causing a sudden feeling of being cold to cover her body, she frowned when he saw him crouch and take her thong from the floor. With a mocking smile he shook it before storing it in the pocket of his pants “I'll keep this, maybe it will bring me good luck and I beat you in your home race. See you, mon ange”.

He winked at her, causing his dimples to be marked on his face. She looked at him, her eyes shining thanks to the tears of frustration that had accumulated. She clenched her jaw watching how he was leaving the bathroom so calmly. She looked silently for a couple of seconds at the door through which he had disappeared before releasing a scream of rage. She swallowed between quick breaths and closed her eyes, dropping her head against the cold mirror.

"Fucking asshole”.

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 added to their story!

A mischievous smile was present Charles' face, who was looking at the photos that Arabella had uploaded. He looked up from his phone when he heard footsteps enter his part of the garage, he saw one of his teammate's engineers approach his car to talk to his own engineers. He ignored him and looked back at the device in his hands, trying to hide his deception when he saw that it wasn't the brunette.

But when a part of the conversation made its way to him he couldn't help but turn his attention to them. He continued looking at the phone and moving his thumb across the screen from time to time to disguise it.

"I recommend that you don't talk to Arabella today" Said the man whose name Charles didn't know. He had seen him several times in the other part of the Ferrari garage but the truth was that he had never paid much attention to Arabella's team. His ears perked up at the girl's name.

“Why?” His engineers were clearly not as interested as Charles as they didn't even give him a second glance and continued inspecting the car.

"Just don't say anything to her unless she talks to you first".

And with that he ran to the other end of the red walls. He frowned and got up from his seat, left the garage belonging to his team and began to walk towards McLaren's, ready to find Carlos because he knew on good authority that the spaniard was the one who kept the paddock's princess' secrets.

He laughed to himself wondering if she had told him what happened in the bathroom at the nightclub last night. He hesitated because she told him everything but he wasn't so sure if she would tell him that.

I'll find it out now, he thought as he saw the spaniard sitting on the ground with several others. He clenched his jaw at the sight of the other part of the McLaren duo but continued his pace towards them anyway.

"Haven't you noticed that she's acting strange?" The Australian's notable nose wrinkled at his own question. He narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah? No, I don't know" Alex raised his head looking at the others confused "I mean, I don't know her as well as you do but there is something different about her".

"Maybe she's just focused on trying to win in her homerace" His best friend shrugged, turning his head to look at the other side of the paddock. He raised both eyebrows when he saw him and was immediately excited "Charles is his teammate, surely he can tell us what is happening to our girl".

He looked down at him, his expression showing very clearly that he had not liked the way he had referred to the spanish woman. Gasly's annoyed smile widened as he separated the green from the blue and shook his head.

"We argued so she doesn't talk to me" He put his hands on both hips and rested his weight on one leg. He looked at Carlos surreptitiously trying to see some kind of expression that would give away that he knew about their relationship but nothing. On the one hand he felt relieved, on the other he felt the need to talk to someone about it but he knew it was too big a risk.

He felt Ricciardo's hand collide with his shoulder and then his contagious laughter filled his ears "Have you never heard the expression "happy woman, happy garage"?.

"What have you done now?".

He looked at Albon, putting a hand to his chest, offended “Why does it have to be me?”.

"She's the one who doesn't talk to you, the one who must have screwed up must have been you" Carlos joined his hands on top of his knees, his eyes focused on some distant point behind Charles' body.

He opened his mouth to complain but the vpice of the protagonist's of the conversation made everyone look in the same direction that Carlos had his eyes on. The girl walked through the paddock alongside a group of cameras and interviewers, answering her questions with her calm even though the press seemed to be about to kill each other to be able to walk near her. As if she were some kind of saint who just by being close to her and breathing her air would cure most horrible symptoms.

Lando broke the silence that had formed between them by speaking for the first time since the monegasque had joined them “They have never fought to interview me.”

"Me neither".

"Neither" Daniel responded and Alex just clicked his tongue.

He curled his lips and then remembered that in the other two races she hadn't done any kind of press. Charles didn't know why but it wasn't like he could ask her either. He watched her walk away and twisted his head, something was happening here.

"POLE position, baby!" Alexandre exclaimed in her ears and she laughed at the man's enthusiasm. As always before getting out of the car, she thanked the team over the radio and took off her helmet followed by her balaclava. She heard the roar of the Mercedes and watched as Hamilton's car parked next to hers, she saw him get out of her and copy her, taking off his helmet and balaclava. He looked at her and smiled at her raising both eyebrows to which she rolled her eyes and started walking away.

“Why are you avoiding me?” The British accent sounded soft and sweet next to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye seeing that he had not taken long to get next to her. She tightened her grip on her helmet.

"Because I don't want to see you" She smiled sarcastically still looking ahead. Lewis frowned and quickened his pace to stand in front of her, walking backwards. He observed her face delighting in it when he saw her make a face of frustration when she saw him in front of her "You're going to fall".

A smile planted itself on his plump lips “Aw, you care about me.”

"On the contrary, it would brighten my day" Sarcasm continued decorating her pretty smile.

"I thought me being second was what would make your day" He stopped his pace abruptly, causing her to collide with him, she placed her hands on his hard chest to avoid stepping on him and grunted in annoyance while the british man smiled, clearly enjoying the moment.

As if he were poison, she quickly let go. She looked up to see him, remaining silent for a few seconds because she didn't know they were so close to each other. She blinked before pushing him away, his annoying laughter soon filling her ears “Enjoy the views from the second place.”

The man laughed again watching her walk away from him towards her garage, her car being driven by one of the engineers following her at a considerable speed. He sank her teeth into his bottom lip before raising his voice“I'll do it! Believe me, I will".

She hurried into the garage, clenching her jaw as she saw the monegasque driver giving her a smile as if nothing had happened between them "Congratulations…"

She raised a hand blocking his face and his words before passing by him and heading to the hallway that would take her to her room, ignoring how the red polo shirts were soaked with champagne and how everyone was celebrating the pole position. Upon arrival she dropped the helmet on the ground without giving much importance to the loud noise it made when it hit the ground and threw herself onto the sofa while releasing a sigh. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"ARABELLA TORRES CROSSES THE STARTING LINE CROWNED AS THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION!"

Despite the roar of the car engine and the cloaks covering her ears she could hear the screams of the audience. She frowned when she saw a sea of red and yellow flags, her team began to take their place on the fence that separated the track from the pedestrian zone, she saw how they shouted with smiles on their faces and how they waved their flag in the air and then she knew.

She had won.

She had won the last race of the season and just like that the fucking title of world champion was hers.

She laughed madly, raising her arm above the halo in celebration. She pressed the button on the radio and incredulously asked "Have I won?".

"YOU'RE WORLD CHAMPION, BABY!—She heard Susie's scream, behind the blonde's voice she could hear the others celebrating the victory. Her smile widened even more making her cheeks start to hurt. Wolff wiped her own tears and picked up the microphone, bringing it to her lips. "You've won, Arabella. You've done".

Her lips trembled but the smile didn't fade, her throat went dry and for a moment she saw blurred "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much to all of you, guys."

Come on, get out of the car so we can celebrate" This time it was Toto's voice that rang through her ears, he nodded and followed the few meters of road until she reached the sign with the number one. She parked in it and sighed before getting up from her seat and raising both arms in victory.

She got out of the car feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She took off her helmet and balaclava before kneeling on the ground right in front of the car, clasping her hands together and resting them against the nose of the black car and then resting her forehead on her hands, as if she were praying to the machine. She lowered her head until her forehead was almost touching the floor and, finally, she cried. She let out a sob so hard her chest hurt, and she grabbed the fabric of the chest of her suit tightly.

"Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!" For a moment she heard nothing but the audience chanting her name.

She sobbed again, raising her head, looking around around. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Was that really happening? She looked at the camera in front of her and with her hand on rop of her heart chehe vocalized several "Thank you" non-stop.

Suddenly she heard a loud bang and immediately afterward the screams of people, she looked at her hands and frowned when she saw that they were illuminated by an orange light.

She raised her head slowly seeing how her car was on fire, she moved her gaze to the right finding the red car embedded in the side of hers. She watched in horror as Charles's lifeless eyes looked back at her.

“Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!” The crowd's cries grew even louder and she willed them to shut up. She got up to run towards Charles but it was too late, neither he nor both cars nor even the circuit were there.

“Arabella, wake up” Some light pushes drew her to reality, with a gasp she opened her eyes, meeting Sebastian's face.

She smiled when she saw him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She heard his laugh and felt how he gave a kiss on her hair before caressing it.

"I'm here, siéger” He whispered into her ear, his voice immediately bringing him peace. She sighed against his shoulder “I'm here.” Champion.

"God, I've missed you so much" She murmured against his jacket, she hid her face even more in his neck, feeling the man's hand go up and down her back.

“Me too, siéger” He patted her on the back a couple of times and began to let her go. He looked at her with a frown “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yeah, but…wait” Her gaze ran to rest on the clock on the wall right next to the television. She opened her eyes in surprise before looking at the man kneeling in front of her "Is it Sunday already?".

Vettel nodded “Yes, you've been sleeping here since qualifying. It's been a long nap”.

She put her head in her hands, hiding her face in them, and let out a sigh “I didn't sleep much yesterday.”

“How much?”.

She denied, remembering that when she arrived at the villa that the boys had rented she couldn't sleep but instead stayed tossing and turning in bed all night without stopping thinking about the race and how frustrated the green-eyed boy had left her. Plus Carlos's unconscious body trying to hug her every chance she got didn't help her much “An hour”.

“Fuck, siéger” He let out an incredulous laugh “And yet you qualified on pole, incredible”.

She shrugged as if it was nothing. She turned her neck to both sides grimacing when she heard the bones creak and got up from the couch being followed by the german, who stepped forward to open the door for her.

They walked among the paddock, heading to the common cafeteria so the girl could have breakfast. They both ignored the surprised looks at seeing the former champion walk and chat so calmly next to the driver, since it was not public knowledge that she and Sebastian Vettel had known each other and had maintained a friendship since she was a child. She licked her lips watching the cameras not far from them, she knew that at any moment people were going to find out so she tried not to give it much importance while the dark blonde, on the other hand, looked a little worried.

Sebastian knew that the girl didn’t want the public to know about her friendship, either the one she had with him or with the Schumachers, since the public would quickly question all of her achievements in her career. Both Sebastian and Mick understood and agreed with her, they knew Michael would agree too. And that's how it had been since they met, distancing herself from the Schumacher’s son while they were in public when they met at a race even though they both wanted to talk or simply enjoy each other's company, not being able to go to Sebastian's races to support him or couldn't even talk about how the germans had become fundamental supports in her life since she met them at the tender age of eleven.

That's why he couldn't help but be surprised when he accepted her call and heard her invite him to the next race. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, he knew that she had had a bad time and he was worried about her, after all for him, she was like his eldest daughter. Not for nothing did his first-born daughter bear her name.

Once seated in the cafeteria, they were accompanied by the girl's manager and her publicist, who after waiting for her to have breakfast, dragged her away because she had to do some interviews.

“Don't you notice something strange on her?” Nicholas took a bite of his croissant, both men watching the two women walk away at a hasty pace.

“There is something in her gaze” He responded, nodding “Something that I don't know if I like”.

He had noticed it and it had not been difficult for him to recognize that shine in her eyes. He more than anyone could know it, because a while ago he also had that shine in his own eyes.

225 notes · View notes

hockeyshmockey · 7 months

Text

Lance Stroll- Biggest Champion

summary: a moment between the oldest wolff and lance after some scary moments in Qatar. lance stroll x wolff reader

warnings: talk about the medical issues in qatar!

wc: 1.1k

“Papa,” you said worriedly as you say next to Toto in the Mercedes garage in Qatar. Since you had begun seeing Lance, throughout this season, the set up usually was you watching your boyfriend and friends race from the Mercedes garage and stepping out to see Lance pre and post race. Unless Chloe was in town where the two of you could be found giggling in the Aston garage, this seemed to work for the two of you.

That day in Qatar had been otherworldly hot. Lance had not been having the greatest weekend, taking ice baths every hour it seemed like and spending a lot of time in his drivers room trying to work through his frustrations. You had joined him some of the time, offering him silent comfort which seemed to be what he needed with all the pressure sitting on his shoulders.

As you and Toto stared at the screens showing several onboards and now sharing Logan’s voluntary retirement, your worry crept up for not only Lance, but your friends as well. A hand fell on your shoulder, squeezing to offer support as Lewis joined your little group. Carmen was standing off to the side with George’s trainer, chewing on her nail as she shared similar worries about her boy in the drivers seat.

“I really can’t believe this,” Lewis shook his head as Logan was wheeled into the Williams garage. “This is so dangerous. The FIA can't let this happen again.”

The group all watched as more and more drivers chimed in over the radios about not feeling well. Alonso pretty much asking his team to throw water over him on his last pit, which they couldn’t do. After another round of Max crossing the line first, finally some relief hit as the groups shoulders lifted knowing their final driver and friends would be getting out of the cars soon.

Watching the other team onboards which your father kept on a separate screen for your benefit, you winced as you watched Alex have to be assisted out of his car. Switching over to Lances, you watched as he sat in his car for a minute before trying to haul himself out. You felt slight relief as he made it from the car, leaning over by the tire for a second. But that relief was short lived.

As you saw him stumble, you gasped, hand covering your mouth as your father frowned, the two of you watching as Lance’s knees buckled and sent him fumbling into the door of the ambulance. Toto put a hand on your back as you both watched medical personnel approach the driver, before the feed was cut.

“Go,” Toto nodded as you looked on helplessly, taking no time before hightailing it from the Mercedes garage to the Aston Martin one down the row.

“Is he ok?” You asked breathlessly as you saw Lawrence and Lance's Engineer standing together with matching frowns.

“He had some trouble with the heat,” Lawrence said as he put a hand on your shoulder in sympathy. “He didn’t look too good getting out of the car but they took him right to the medical center.”

“Will they let us in?” You immediately asked.

“I’ve got to wait for Fernando,” Lawrence sighed, looking over at Ben and Henry. “I think they’ll let Henry in, you want to go with him and work that charm? Check on our boy?”

“I’m on it,” you smiled weakly as Henry nodded, leading you out of the garage to where he grabbed an Aston golf cart and drove you over to the medical center. Considering the state of the drivers, the usually calm area was a mad house with other team members, drivers, and some partners as well.

You followed Henry’s lead as he walked up to one of the track workers. The two spoke for a moment, Henry gesturing over his shoulder to you. As the worker saw you wringing your hands and the clear worry on your face, her own expression softened and she nodded before pointing down the hall.

You hurried after Henry, keeping up with his long strides as the two of you approached a curtained off area. Henry peeked his head in before pulling back the sheets, showing your boyfriend sitting on the bed in no shirt and just his fire proof bottoms.

“Hey mate,” Henry said as he approached the bed, clapping Lances shoulder as the boy smiled up at him tiredly. “Boss man couldn’t get away but wanted us to make sure to come check on ya.”

“I’m alright,” Lance said, his words slightly slurred with exhaustion as he looked past Henry towards you. He reached out a hand, you immediately rushing over to grab it in both of yours. “Just exhausted. They’ve got me on some fluids right now.”

“Some good rest and food will get you right,” Henry squeezed his shoulder before looking back at you. “We’ll I’ll leave you and report back to Lawrence. You both should be able to get back to the garage but if not give me a shout, I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you Henry,” you said softly as he smiled at the both of you before heading back out the way he came. You took a long second now that you were alone to let your eyes take in all of Lance’s face- skin sweaty, eyes tired.

“I really am ok,” he murmured, cupping your cheek as he saw the unshed tears on your lash line. You nuzzled in to his touch, letting out a sigh as you felt some of the weight on your shoulders lift just having him in front of you.

“I’m glad, it was scary out there,” you rasped out, looking at him once more. “A few other guys apparently passed out in the mc post race.”

“God this should’ve never happened,” Lance shook his head. Any further talking was put on pause as a nurse shuffled in, taking stock of Lances IV drip and telling him he would still be here for another hour or so for observation.

“I know I wasn’t at my best this weekend,” Lance admitted thickly. “And I’ve got some apologies to make. But being in the car, feeling like I could’ve gone off at any moment. All I could think about was getting back to you. And telling you how much I adore you, and that I don’t say it enough, but I’m really thankful for you and everything you do for me.”

“Oh schatz,” you said as you leaned in teary eyed again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re doing your best. Your frustration is something everyone understands, we just need to find better ways for you to express it. There is nothing I would change about you. I love you and I love being your biggest champion. There’s no getting rid of me.”

“I love you,” he smiled tiredly, pursing his lips with a pout till you rolled your eyes and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

#f1 #formula one imagine #formula one #f1 driver #f1 imagine #f1 driver imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 driver #imagine #lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll angst

401 notes · View notes

thatsdemko · 10 months

Text

room 305 - l.stroll

masterlist

requested: n

pairing: Lance stroll x fem!reader

warnings: build up + childhood friends trope + not intended for minors + long(omg I’m so sorry) + mentions of oral (f + m receiving)

a/n: I want to thank @oconso, @monzabee, and @holllandtrash for being the people who inspired me to keep writing this fic 😅your reactions were my motivation to keep going! so sorry for the two posts in two days, just felt the need to get this out there xx feedback is appreciated 🫶

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

how you got to this point in the conversation is beyond you.

you can feel the saliva thicken in your throat. sweat begins to break out across your forehead that you wipe with the back of your hand nervously. he seems so calm, so collected. like he didn’t just learn his best friend, of childhood, was a virgin.

it wasn’t a problem you had. you didn’t mind walking around sexually frustrated that not a single man was ready to take you to the next base, but the way lances skin quickly dropped pale, eyes nearly jumping out of their sockets, you knew it wasn’t okay.

“so like,” he pauses, you can see he’s trying to digest the news. you watch him swallow before continuing, “you’ve just never had sex before?”

he realized how stupid he sounds. just repeating your words back to you, and he watches red spread further across your cheeks. he cannot imagine how embarrassing this conversation had to be, but he can thank the wine for finally pushing you open to him.

you nod, reaching for the bottle of wine in the middle of the table, your hands are too shaky from the embarrassment. the bottle dips, about to hit the wood table, but Lance is quick enough to catch it and takes a knowing look at you, “you don’t have to be afraid. it’s me.”

he says it in a matter of fact tone, because it is him. the guy who wasn’t shy to be your first kiss, or the guy who wasn’t shy to risk his life and teach you how to drive. he would be more than honored to teach you what good sex is, and he knows by the look in your eyes, you’re thinking about it.

“if not tonight,” he pauses, watching you adjust in the uncomfortable hard wood chair, hoping and praying this conversation would be over, “some other time. I’m always down.”

—

it’d been a week since your confession, and the idea always stayed lurking in the back of your mind.

even when he introduces you to his team, when his back muscles flexed in the skin tight fireproof, you were thinking about him on top of you, how his skin would feel against yours.

you’re lost in your thoughts, thinking about how warm his body would be against yours, his cold palm against your throat, when he interrupts your thoughts.

“so you’re thinking about it too?” he shifts in front of you. you watch the smirk turn against his lips as his hand slips down your arm, finger tips ever so gently brushing your skin.

he watches your lips slightly gap, eyes becoming doe-like. “the offer still stands.” he says.

the way he’s acting is killing you. he’s so nonchalant, like it’s not a big deal to him, but your mind races with the boundaries you were crossing. this was no longer going to be an easy childhood friendship, it’d much more complicated for crying out loud. he’d see your most vulnerable places, and you cannot believe he’s acting with not a care in the world.

“I want it to be with the right person,” you say, your voice sounds shaky like you weren’t sure of yourself, but deep down you were. “It’s important to me you understand that.” you add.

he shifts from one hip to the other, giving you a tiny nod in understanding, “do you think I’m not the right person for you?” he asks. he picks up on your hesitation, air caught in your lungs because you weren’t expecting that response. you had a whole planned out response, and instead you’re looking for words to answer.

that same smirk toys his lips again as he slips into his teal green racing suit, “you know where to find me.” he sends you a wink, but doesn’t leave without a final word, “I’ve got a condom with your name on it, you just say when.”

—

your fingernail is gushing with blood. you’ve been chewing it nonstop since the race started.

the gnawing at your skin might’ve started with the race, it wasn’t an easy start and finish, with yellow flags, safety cards, and animals at risk; the race was anything but calm. now that the race was over, and you were watching Lance climb out of the car, the nervous tick now wasn’t because of the race anymore. it was because of the butterflies in your stomach and the throbbing from your pussy.

you’ve never felt this hungry for someone before. you watch his hair fall out of the helmet, the dark brown locks were flattened due to the balaclava, but the hairs find their way back to their natural shape as he shakes them off his sweaty forehead.

you feel like a little girl at school again. getting all excited when your crushed looked your way, or how nervous you got around him, it all felt too familiar. it was how you used to feel about Lance when you were in middle school. always looking at him when no one was watching, and being anxious when you were left alone with him. some feelings never do go away.

“I heard p9 is the newest p1.” you say when he’s finally made his way over to you. you watch him as he steps up to your body, arms wrapping around you. there was nothing that could of prepared you for this moment, there was no better feeling than Lance against your own body.

his arms are loose around you, his hand rests in the middle of your back, thumb lightly stroking your back. you inhale his sweaty scent, the mixture of his cologne lingers the odor, it’s oddly enough to send a pulse back down between your inner thighs.

“p1, huh?” he asks pulling away from your body, fingers running through his hair, he gently pulls on the strands before running his fingers down his face.

“that’s what they’re saying.” you reply, stumbling backwards, knees a bit too weak to stand you need something to grab onto. you never expected a man to ever do this to you. at least not Lance.

he licks his lips, “what does p1 get?”

“me.” you say.

every vessel in your body is sure of this. you might not of been hours ago, when he was playing his asshole cards, but now? you’re sure he’s the one. in fact, you’re sure he’s the only one.

you watch him swallow the lump in his throat. he’s never seen you be so bold. he watches your face to see if any signs of bluffing, but you’re not folding, you’re sure of this.

“meet me back at the hotel, room 305.”

—

you sit on the edge of his hotel bed, once again gnawing at the skin of your fingertips. you weren’t sure what to expect, should you dress up for the occasion? maybe sport a g-string? you couldn’t even focus on trying to eat dinner, there was too much on your mind.

“would you stop eating your skin?” he asks emerging from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. he’d been in the shower when you arrived. he heard the door click open, and listened to you carefully place it behind you to not make too much noise. of course, you failed by running into bathroom door that was wide open allowing the steam from the shower out the room.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter putting your hand underneath your thighs, “I’m just nervous.” you admit, as if it wasn’t obvious. he’s known you your whole life, that tick was a dead giveaway of your anxiety.

you watch him bend down to pick up one of his shirts out of his suitcase. you’re a little unsure why he’s getting dressed if in the next ten minutes you’ll be throwing the shirt off of him, and you can tell he’s reading your confusion just by the way he laughs.

“we are doing this my way, dinner first then sex. I gotta get to know you before I fuck you.”

you scoff. like he hasn’t spent over a decade or two learning the in’s and outs of you. you find it ridiculous, but he’s truly the only man that’s ever agreed to second base. he’s your only safe option to show you what a first time should be like.

“fine, should I change?” you gesture to the outfit you’re wearing. a midi white skirt, pair of sandals, and a black tank top.

he shakes his head, “no it’s fine, skirts are easy to take off anyway.”

you laugh, and decide to wait for him to change. of course, he changes with the bathroom door cracked open. it’s not enough for you to see anything, but you can hear the zip of jeans, the sound of his socks against the cold tile, all the things to let you know he was naked.

“ready?” he asks while grabbing his keys and wallet off the nightstand.

you stand up and watch him, you see the gold packaging that was hidden beneath the wallet, and you know exactly what it is. he wasn’t hiding it.

“where to?”

he gives you a knowing look like you shouldn’t of asked, and you know exactly what he’s about to say, “Lester’s deli.”

—

the sandwich in front of you is just as good as you remember it being. Lance sits across from you, halfway finished with his when he looks up at you, “so tell me, what do you like in a guy?” he asks.

you nearly drop the sandwich just to swallow before replying. it took all of the strength in you to not look down at his growing hard cock in his jeans.

it was evident the whole drive. his hand resting on your bare thigh, fingertips dangerously move up your skirt. he was such a tease, it was killing you how he was acting.

you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know, just as long as he’s nice.” you reply to his question taking another bite out of your sandwich.

he nods taking a sip of his drink before asking another question, “I want the specifics. what did and didn’t work. do you like it when I touch you? do you hate hair pulling?”

the questions roll off his tongue, it’s hard to keep track. you can tell he’s been around the block, whereas you’ve barely been in the house let alone allowed to park your car in a man’s garage.

“Lance,” you say, finally stopping him from getting into orgys and sex toys, “I’ve never had sex. I don’t know what I like, but I know I like you.”

he finds himself blushing. he owes Chloe at least twenty bucks for predicting the expectable outcome: that you would fall for each other.

“well then what are we waiting for?” he asks, standing up from his chair. the few customers turn around hearing the legs of the chair scrape against the floor.

you watch him like you used to. with those silly little doe-eyes and follow his lead because even if you wanted to say no, you couldn’t. you dreamt of a moment like this at some point in your life, and you cannot believe it was Lance stroll who’d fuck you in his hotel room.

—

you lay against the mattress, his lips press against yours every so often while he takes off his shirt. you study the way his body looks as the black t-shirt comes off his back. you take your index finger and trace the outlines of his abs, the tattoo on his rib cage. there’s so much to see.

“I’ll help you.” he guides your hands to the zipper of his jeans. his hands steadies your shaking ones as you pull on the tiny metal that’s holding all of him together.

the jeans come off, they are in a ball on the floor along side his t-shirt he was once sporting. he’s hesitant to take off your tank top for you, his cold hands are on top of yours while you lift your shirt up over your head.

he licks his bottom lip before pressing them against yours for a brief second, “so beautiful.”

during the kiss he took the chance to unhook your bra, and when he pulls away, the material that was holding your breasts up is ripped off of you exposing your nipples to the cool air of the hotel room.

“lay back, for me.” he says, and you obey. it wasn’t much of a demand, rather than a statement for comfort. he takes the opportunity to spread your legs far apart, feet pressed into the mattress.

the white skirt you’re wearing rides up your thighs, he can see the lacy panties as clear as day, a smirk lifts his lips, “for me? you didn’t have to.” he jokes, but its sincere. he finds it charming you put in the effort to look presentable.

“whatever.” you grumble.

he smiles, hands running up your legs to your thighs. he stops at your hips that currently hold the floral lacy material in place. he’s careful to not tear the material as it trails down your legs before being tossed aside.

he gets off the bed for the gold wrapper on the nightstand. while he’s tugging off his boxers, the realization hits you. you’re about to have sex with the Lance stroll. the man who you once took showers with when you were babies, held you while your parents bickered and fought. this man was more than the perfect guy for the job to take your virginity.

“you just tell me when to stop, okay?”

his thumb grazes your cheek for a brief second before his hand slides down your throat. he’s gentle over your voice box, “I need to hear you, you’ll tell me to stop.”

his chain dangles off his of chest, the dim lights of the room reflect off it, nearly blinding you while he speaks. you feel that pulse once again as you nod, “I’ll tell you.” you try to vocalize your needs, but it’s caught in your throat making you sound raspy and hoarse.

he lets go. allowing that hand to caress your body while the other balances him in between you. his chain hovers over your eyelids, shoulder blades lining up with yours you can feel the heat radiating off of him. your breath is caught in your lungs by the sight of his beauty.

you feel his skin against yours before his tip inside of you. your hips grind together, chests nearly colliding with one another. your back arches into him, a gasp rolls off your tongue, nails digging deep into his skin. he hisses.

the strokes weren’t deep and long at first, rather quick and sporadic to get a feel. you’re tight, and he expected this, but he didn’t expect the challenge to open you up to feel so good.

his head tilts back a bit, a little grunt escaping his lips as he goes deeper into your core. you’re whining under him, absolutely soaking wet under him already.

he’s big, god he’s incredibly big. you’re not why he doesn’t walk around flaunting it, because you’re sure it’s the biggest dick you’ve ever seen and you weren’t even sure he’d fit in you.

you squirm when he goes long, the pain is met with pleasure shortly, a whimper escapes your lips, nails still digging into his back.

his strokes start to pick up again, you can feel the mattress beneath you two begin to shake, the headboard lightly tapping the wall behind you. you’re about a second away from coming when he hits the bundle of nerves that send a rush through your body. a whine slips off your tongue, and suddenly he’s slowing down— pulling out to be exact.

“yeah?” he asks. trying to catch his breath, he takes a long look into your angelic eyes, “let me taste you.” his voice is quiet. picking your legs up over his shoulders, his eyes dazzle with excitement at the thick moisture against your folds.

you shutter, when you feel his wet warm tongue against your skin, it’s a sensation that itches your brain, makes you dizzy, and gets your legs to twitch.

he takes his time wiping up your moisture in every fold before he re-enters your center— this time with his tongue. his name rolls off your lips, he stops for a brief moment before you guide him to continue. your fingers are tugging hard on the strands of his brown hair.

“you taste amazing.” he lifts up sitting on his knees wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a question in his mind sparks his interest.

“you want to try something?” he asks. curiosity flows through you. what more could he have up his sleeve?

you nod, allowing him to take your hands and lift you off the bed. you’re struggling to stand on your two feet, he helps you onto your knees, eye to eye with his hard cock.

“open your mouth, relax your jaw.” he instructs. you follow his commands, doing as so before taking his cock into your hands, fingers carefully stroke the shaft before your mouth closes around his tip.

the rest of his words get caught in his throat when your tongue swipes his tip. your fingers are beginning to wrap tight around his hard cock. how the hell were you so good at this? he thought to himself.

you may not be experienced enough, but you know just what you’re doing. you’ve read enough smut in your life to know where your hand should be, how your tongue should flick him. you know this will get him to come.

“g-good girl.” he moans.

his head is thrown back in pleasure. he can’t get enough of the feeling of your hand move up and down him, tongue swiping every inch of his cock.

he’s got one hand in your hair, the other is gripping the edge of the nightstand for balance. his knees are weak, he can’t stand it. he gives into the pleasure that he’s holding onto and let’s go. he’s enjoyed every second, every gasp that exits his mouth is a reward to your ego.

your mouth is met with his cum, a soft whimper escapes his lips that ends with a sigh in a relief. you pull away from his body, and when you look up from his cock, your eyes being greeted to his cocky smirk.

“not bad for a first timer.” he says, a light chuckle escapes his lips as he collapses against the mattress. it was finally over.

his arms are extended upward, fingers motioning for you to join him. you get up off the floor, and climb into his arms.

“now what?” you ask, resting your head against his chest. you can hear his heart still rapidly pounding.

it was a question you didn’t want to ask. once this was over, now that you no longer were a virgin, you figured there was no challenge left for him.

“now? we cuddle. next time? I get to teach you how to ride.”

“sounds like a plan.”

1K notes · View notes

youkissedareaderinthedark · 9 months

Text

Nothing is Easy

Synopsis: Y/n gets into a crash in Mexico, and it keeps her from finishing the 2023 season. It’s a long road of recovery, but it pays off in the end

female driver reader x F1 2023 grid

(reader is 24 in this one, and she drives for aston martin)

“And here she is now! Y/n L/n, we were just talking about you, how are you feeling about Mexico?” Martin Brundle approaches you while you’re walking through the paddock.

“Oh, hi Martin!” You greet the commentator with a smile.

“I’m feeling good, it’s nice out, there’s a lot of fans here, and the team is looking good today” You shrug.

“So, we can expect big things from Aston Martin?”

“Yeah, me and Lance and the team are all confident in the car and we’re hoping for a good finish in the points” You speak for your teammate, Lance Stroll, and the rest of the Aston Martin garage.

“Alright Y/n, thank you for talking with me and good luck on the race” He nods and places a hand on your shoulder before walking off to his next interview-ee.

All of what you said was true; you were just coming off a P6 finish at the Austin Grand Prix, it was a calm, sunny day in Mexico City, the stands were packed with eager fans, and everyone in Aston Martin had confidence in their driver lineup.

You and Lance first became teammates in 2021 when Racing Point became Aston Martin and as a part of their rebranding, they named you, the 2020 F2 World Champion, as a part of their 2021 Driver Lineup.

It took a bit for you to get used to the car, frequenting P10 and P9, but was fairly successful in 2022, getting used to taking P7 and P6. You and Lance worked together quite well, being the same age and having the same goals in Formula 1.

You felt less nerves and more anticipation as you completed your usual race day routine. It was the 20th/23rd race of the year and you’ve completed the same routine for three years, so your body is on auto pilot all morning.

A tap on your shoulder from your race engineer, Ben Michael, brings you out of your daze. “30-minute warning, Y/n. We have the get the cars out and onto the grid” The older man says to you.

You nod and pull off your headphones before replacing them with your helmet and balaclava. When you turn, you’re surprised to see your teammate mirroring you. “Good luck, we’re going to do great, yeah?” Lance sticks out his hand in a fist bump and you raise your arm to meet it.

“Yeah, of course. Good luck” You both move to get into your respective cars and wait for the signal to exit the garage.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, we’re about thirty seconds away from light’s out now. All twenty cars are out and completing the formation lap, here’s what our top 10 of the starting grid looks like;

“Lance Stroll, P10. Y/n L/n, P9. Oscar Piastri, P8. Lando Norris, P7. George Russell, P6. Sergio Perez, P5. Lewis Hamilton, P4. Charles Leclerc, P3. Carlos Sainz, P2, and starting at pole position is Max Verstappen” David Croft commentates for the viewers.

“71 Laps ahead of us, let’s see what unfolds, it’s light’s out and away we go! Verstappen and the Ferrari’s get away with no problems. Hamilton is off, trying to get away from Perez behind him”

“Russell is scrambling away in attempt to bring a gap between him and the two McLarens. Both Aston Martin’s start flawlessly, DRS isn’t available until Sector 2, but it looks like L/n is already trying to get a bit closer to Piastri in front of her”

“Okay Y/n, once DRS is available, push to catch up to Piastri and try to overtake him. We’re looking to advance early so Lance can get some overtakes done as well” Ben becomes audible through your radio.

“Understood” You reply before refocusing on the orange car in front of you.

“Lap 4, no changes in the lineup so far, but I wouldn’t speak too soon. Y/n L/n is gaining on Oscar Pisatri in front of her. Just leaving Turn 7, she’s going down the inside, wheel to wheel as they go into Turn 8, leaving Turn 9 does she have a lead?

Yes, she does! Y/n L/n has a McLaren beat, and I don’t think she’s going to hesitate in moving onto Lando Norris”

“Lap 12, now. Verstappen is, predictably, still leading, both Ferrari’s persistent behind him. Lewis Hamilton in P4 with his teammate behind him, trying to get away from the Aston Martin’s of L/n and Stroll, both just overtook the two McLarens of Norris and Piastri”

“Lap 20 and tension is starting to rise here. Most of the race today has been between Y/n L/n and whoever is in front of her. Right now, George Russell has his foot against the gas, taking every opportunity to try to extend the gap between him and the Aston Martin”

You’re trailing Russell as you approach Turn 2. Turn 3 is the last corner before the long straight and if you want to get up into P5, you have to catch up with him before the next bend.

“Y/n, you have more pace. You are faster than Russell, push and you’ll beat him” Ben speaks. “Understood, I’m trying” You reply shortly.

“Here we go, DRS is enabled. She’s gaining on him, trying to at least go wheel-to-wheel before the long straight. L/n’s moving aside from behind Russell and going around the outside”

The front of your car is aligned with the middle of his and you move to the right to avoid contact.

“They’re almost wheel-to-wheel! L/n’s front left tire is right behind Russell’s front right tire, George is not backing away from this”

You try to move closer to finish the move and before you can shift to the right again, your front left makes contact with George’s front right tire.

“There’s some contact in the tires and Y/n is spinning! She makes contact with George Russell and spins across the track!”

You see a blur of dark green and a mess of orange pass you, probably cars swerving around your collision.

“George Russell continues fine, moving ahead. Martin, I don’t even think he’s realized what happened” Croft speaks to the man next to him while staring at the track in front of him with worry.

You’ve managed to stop your car, but you’re in the middle of the track, so just as you’re about to turn your head around to look for the perfect opportunity to set yourself right, you feel a world of pain on the left side of you.

“Esteban Ocon did not see Y/n L/n’s car in front of him! He’s hit into the side of her Aston Martin! I think he tried to swerve to avoid her, but he was going too fast!” Crofty shouts.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Esteban Ocon’s Alpine has T-boned Y/n L/n’s Aston Martin and it’s a red flag”

Your eyes are closed both in fear and pain, causing you to miss all the other cars weave around the collision in the middle of the straight. The other 18 cars were guided into the pits by the safety car, so when Esteban climbs out of his car and runs towards yours, he doesn’t have to worry about other cars on track.

Your five senses are scrambled. All you feel is the pain in your hip, the only scent you smell is fuel, and while usually the scent will remind you of your karting days, it now just clouds your brain’s attempts to figure out what the hell happened.

A metallic taste fills your mouth, and you assume you’ve bit your lip so hard in pain, it started bleeding. Your eyes are closed and all you can hear is the combination of a voice in your ears, someone shouting near you, and the buzz of the crowd around you.

You force your eyes to meet the harsh Mexican sun and the distressed frame of Esteban Ocon hovering above you. You realize the voice in your ear is Ben through your radio, and it takes you a worrying amount of time to refocus your attention on the steering wheel your hands still clutch and answer the question your race engineer has been asking non-stop.

“Yeah, I’m okay. For the most part. I think” You radio back to the Aston Martin garage. You realize that that buzzing in your ear is only half because of the crowd, and it takes a moment for the humming to calm down so that the Alpine driver is audible.

“Y/n! Can you hear me? Are you okay?” He shouts and you quickly lift your hand to meet his resting on the side of your car in hopes he will stop yelling. “I’m okay, Esteban” You shift uncomfortably.

“Actually, I think I hurt my hip. I can’t move my left leg at all”

The Frenchman looks slightly relieved. “Do you need help getting out? I can-” You interrupt quickly.

“No! Please don’t do anything, I’ll just wait for the marshals” You weren’t very good friends with Esteban, but you appreciated his care for a fellow driver.

The marshals you spoke of arrived a few minutes later in another safety car and an ambulance. You told Ben that you couldn’t move, and the medics arrived prepared to lift you out of your crash car and onto a gurney. Once the marshals assured Esteban you would be okay, he was escorted into the safety car and back into the paddock.

The radio messages in team garages were confidential, so viewers and drivers only knew your status because of David Croft’s commentary.

“After a few minutes of uncertainty, it’s clear that Y/n L/n is okay and out of her car. According to the Aston Martin race engineer, Ben Micheal, she is off to the medical center and in good hands” Crofty says with clear traces of relief in his voice.

You ride in the elevator clutching tightly onto your race suit. Now that the shock of the crash is gone, the only thing you can feel is pain in the left side of your hip. It’s a searing pain that has spread across your body, but it burns the most above your thigh.

The medics inside the ambulance do the work of pulling your race suit down your body to make your hip visible and you try your best not to wince every time a hand touches the left side of your body, but you do it so much it becomes subconscious.

You get wheeled through the medical center and into a room where two doctors immediately start working around you. You hear one talking about x-rays and having a proper ambulance being called to take you to the closest hospital once they examined your hip.

Your eyes are shut in pain, but you look up when you hear the voice of your PR officer and best friend in the paddock, Addison, asking the doctors for an update on you. “We can’t be 100% sure but from the looks of it, it might be a fractured hip” The female doctor says. Addison sighs and frows before going to your side to replace your clinched race suit with her hand.

“Are you okay?” The British woman asks. “No” You grimace “Am I going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, the ambulance is on its way, should be here in a few minutes”

You’ve never been in an ambulance before, and the underwhelming expirience does nothing to cheer you up. You enter the hospital through the ER entryway, but it doesn’t stop everyone in the waiting room from staring at a woman they find familiar.

You get x-rays done first and then a different doctor comes into your room to update you on the results about an hour later. Apparently, you have a femoral neck fracture in the left side of your hip, meaning you broke the top of your femur bone.

In order to prevent further injuries, you needed surgery as soon as possible. You’re 24, so you’re beyond eligible to deal with your own medical incidents, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Addison helped you figure it all out and within three hours, you were being wheeled into the operating room.

You were put to sleep while surgeons placed three steel screws through the top of your femur and into your pelvis. It took three hours, but it was successful; you were still in a daze once they took you for another round of x-rays.

It freaked you out a bit, seeing and knowing steel was screwed into your body but your hip didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did before, so you count it as a plus.

While you’re sitting in your hospital bed after your surgery, your doctor and surgeon knock on your door. “Hey Y/n, how’re you feeling?” The surgeon says.

“Eh, I’m okay. The anesthesia has mostly worn off but I’m still kinda tired. My hip doesn’t hurt as bad, though”

“That’s good. So, we’ve printed out all the necessary information for taking care of your fracture in here” The surgeon holds up a packet of papers. “But I’ll give you the gist of it now” He continues.

“You’ll have to stay in the hospital until Tuesday night and because you still need to get home, but because you can’t travel normally with your fracture, you’ll need to leave in a scheduled airliner. That means that you’ll fly on a stretcher installed in the plane with a medical flight attendant looking after you”

“When you get home, you’ll have to book a follow-up appointment to follow bone healing. All the wound care and pain medication information are in here” He pauses to hold up the packet as the man next to him continues

“You’ll be able to walk and sit and lay down just fine, you’re just going to experience some pain when you do. Physical therapy is recommended, and it will take about 3 months of training to regain total range of motion and strength”

“Now, I know you are a Formula 1 driver, but for the sake of your hip, I instruct you don’t drive for six weeks at least”

In all the information he gave you, that was the one sentence that stuck out to you. Six weeks means you won’t be able to race for the rest of the season.

Shit

Addison squeezed your hand and sent you a sympathetic look. You think the two doctors said a few more things but the only thing you noticed was when they left. “I-I can’t drive?” You said in disbelief.

“Y/n, there’s only three races left, you won’t be missing much-” Your PR officer said but you interrupted.

“It’s still three races! I was doing great; I was scoring points for us and now I’m just out?”

“Y/n, maybe this is a good thing” She shrugged and picked up the packet on your night stand.

“It says that after these types of car crashes, your reaction time will be slow, and we don’t want you out there when you’re not ready”

You were about to continue your argument, but instead you just sighed and threw your head back into the pillow, grumbling, “Fine”

Your two days in the hospital were filled with answering messages and daily checkups. A lot of people had contacted you with worry, and you had a few discussions with the engineers at Aston Martin.

Expectedly, they were as frustrated as you once they heard of your condition and set up a time with your PR team to announce it. You talked to your family and friends first, ensuring you were okay and would be heading home soon.

Most drivers on the grid heard that you were going into surgery and texted to make sure you were alright, and once you replied to them, you went on social media to see what everyone was saying.

On Tuesday night, you packed up all your things and changed into the clothes Addison brought you in preparation to leave for the airport. All the excitement from the Grand Prix was gone from Mexico City, so you had no trouble navigating through the airport.

The flight was a bit strange; having to lay down the entire time and have an attendant checking up on you every hour, but you managed.

It was relieving to finally get home after an exhausting week away, and you realized you should get used to being at home. Like the doctor advised, you made a follow up appointment and scheduled physical therapy appointments to fill two months.

The doctors you met at the follow up appointment removed the staples used to close up your wound and a few days later, you were going to your first therapy appointment.

The worst part about being bed ridden was the fact you could not watch the races in person. Along with not driving, you weren’t supposed to travel for 6 weeks.

From your couch you watched Felipe Drugovich race your car in Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. You watched Max win the 2023 Championship and Lance finish 9th in the driver’s standings.

As soon as you could, you were on a flight to the Aston Martin Headquarters in Silverstone and included in many meetings regarding your injury and how to advance. You spend a few days in England on the simulator and being analyzed by race engineers.

You do the same once you arrive home, and your off-season schedule becomes fairly structured. You wake up, do the most amount physical training you can with your fitness trainer, go to physical therapy, race on your simulator, and go to sleep to do it all again tomorrow.

You travel to the Aston Martin headquarters a few more times but you don’t see anybody outside of your team until the pre-season testing session in February. You’re walking, without any pain, to the Aston Martin garage with Addison by your side when you feel two hands on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” A French voice exclaims. “Hey Esteban!” You turn to find the Alpine driver grinning. Since your crash, Esteban has checked in regularly asking about health updates and it became the beginning of a friendship between you two.

“It is so nice to see you in the paddock again. You are feeling better, yes?” He brings you into a hug as you walk together.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. I finished physical therapy last month and I was cleared to drive a few weeks ago”

“That’s great, I’m so happy you’re okay. I will see you later, Y/n” Your friend bids you goodbye and turns to walk to his own garage.

“You say hello to Esteban and not me?”

A voice comes from behind you, and you wheel around to see your teammate. “Hi Lance” You bring your teammate into a hug with a smile.

You’ve seen Lance a few times at Aston Martin HQ and it’s common for you two to train on your simulators at home together.

“How’s your hip, metal man?” He teases as you laugh. “It’s steel, actually, and it’s okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore” You nod.

“Good. Be careful today, I want my actual teammate with me this year” Felipe adjusted well to your car and sudden promotion, but your contract was solid, and the Brazilian remains as your reserve driver.

“Don’t worry, I will be. See you later, Lance” You waved as he said goodbye and you both entered your garage then to your drivers' rooms.

The testing session proved to be successful, as both Aston Martin’s traded taking fastest laps. Both of the new cars had several upgrades done on them over the winter break and you’re glad to see they’ve paid off.

Pre-season testing is fairly low-key, so after finishing your run, there was no media for you to complete and you were free to go back to your hotel to prepare for tomorrow.

Both green cars performed strongly on Friday and Saturday, and you left Sakhir Track confident.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the first race of 2024. After a few months of winter break and three days of pre-season testing, we have all twenty drivers in their new cars, 30 seconds away from lights out.”

“And, for the first time since Mexico 2023, Y/n L/n rejoins the grid after a hip fracture. She’s healed splendidly after her surgery in the beginning of November and with the Aston Martin’s looking fast, she’s expected to do well here in Bahrain” Martin Brundle introduces today’s race.

“Here’s our top 10 on the grid today; Max Verstappen, P1. Charles Leclerc, P2. Sergio Perez, P3. Y/n L/n, P4. Carlos Sainz, P5, Lewis Hamilton, P6. Lance Stroll, P7. George Russel, P8. Lando Norris, P9. Pierre Gasly, P10. It’s going to be an interesting race, the light’s come on, and its light’s out and away we go!”

You’ve waited five months to get back in your car and you’re not about to waste the opportunity. Instead, you win.

“1st race of the year, her first race in five months, her first race win, Y/n L/n goes P1! She went through a Ferrari and two Red Bull’s, and now she goes through the checkered flag first!”

And you win again.

“For the second time, Y/n L/n wins the Grand Prix! She started P5 and worked her way up to P1! What a battle between her and Verstappen! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re only in Saudi Arabia, but it’s safe to safe I would follow those two cars wherever Formula 1 takes them if we get more races like that!”

And again.

“She does it in Miami! As her fourth race win, Y/n L/n beats Max Verstappen to the checkered flag with her teammate behind her in P3!”

And again.

“Martin, I can’t believe it. Y/n L/n wins her fifth Grand Prix in Monaco! It’s only the 8th race of 2024 but we are looking into a very exciting racing season ahead of us”

“So, Y/n” A reporter asks you during a press conference in June. “Max has won six races” She gestures to the Red Bull driver next to you. “And you’ve won five, looking to make it six this weekend in Austria. Is it safe to say that it’s going to be between you two for the 2024 Driver’s Championship?”

“Well, I mean it’s never good to speak too early, but we’ve both been looking promising this year and according to our stats, that’s where we’re headed”

“It’s Max Verstappen’s home race here in the Netherlands, but it’s not going to be easy to win. Y/n L/n has been right on his tail all race, her teammate Lance Stroll behind her in his own fight with the other Red Bull. My, if you asked me if this year’s rivalry would be between Aston Martin and Red Bull, I would not have believed you”

“And it’s the first 1-2 for Aston Martin! Lance Stroll goes P1 with his teammate right behind him! Great day in Singapore for the Canadian, outstanding day for everyone wearing green!”

“We are back in Mexico today, the very race she crashed at last year, but if she’s nervous she doesn’t show it. It’s Y/n L/n for her 9th win in Formula 1 and in the 2023 season! Verstappen in P2, Stroll takes P3, Perez, P4, and Sainz, P5”

“In the November air, Daniel Ricciardo goes P1 in Las Vegas after Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n collided and retired! An amazing day for the Australian, a frustrating one for the Red Bull and Aston Martin drivers”

“After Verstappen took his ninth win in Quatar, he and L/n are now tied with wins and very close in points for the Driver’s Championship. Max starts P1 today in Abu Dhabi, and if Y/n can get in front of him, Formula 1 will have its first female World Champion”

You’ve come way too far to lose like this. It’s been probably the most stressful season you’ve driven in ever, there’s no way you’re going to lose after it all.

“Y/n, relax” Your teammate places his hands on your shoulders.

“You’re going to do great. You’re going P1, trust me. You don’t need it but good luck, we’re all rooting for you” Lance sends you a smile and you’re struck with gratitude for your teammate.

“Thanks Lance, you’re going to do great too”You hug your friend before pulling your balaclava and helmet on.

“It’s an anxious day in Abu Dhabi, this race could go either way, it’s lights out and away we go!”

You remember Daniel comparing the 2021 Abu Dhabi race to a flip of a coin, and you think history has repeated itself. All 58 laps, you and Max take turns overtaking each other.

This time, it’s not just Sergio playing a team’s game; Lance helps in whatever way he can, whether it’s taking your spot when you’re in the pitlane or defending against Max so you can pass him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, after the most exciting season yet, Y/n L/n overtakes Max Verstappen and becomes the world champion! It took a long road of recovery, but the reward is sweet! L/n takes the checkered flag first and the arena is booming with noise! The coin has landed on her side today, and she accepts it happily”

The Aston Martin Garage is just as happy as you are, bringing you into hugs and jumping up and down, grins never leaving their faces. Lance joins you on the podium in P3 and you two soak each other in champagne. You shake Max’s hand politely but continue to beam as you wrap your home country’s flag around your shoulders and wave at the crowd.

With steel screwed into your hip, you stand on the podium with your trophy held above your head, looking down at everyone who has waited for this moment as long as you have.

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