elle_clone
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Summary
It was supposed to be a simple training exercise. But when Senna decides Prost's "perfect, by-the-book ass" is his to protect, the resulting hangar showdown proves that cockpit tension isn't always about tactics. Sometimes, it's about who gets to be your rival's only problem.
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Stiles would have asked who in their right mind thought a kissing booth was a good idea for a fundraiser, except – oh, right – he’s on a lacrosse team populated entirely by male models.
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Lando wants to talk shit. The grid reluctantly participates.
Series
- Part 1 of Chat to Surviveverse
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“What is wrong with you?” Seb accuses. “What are you looking at?”
Lewis flips the invitation around, holding it up to the screen so Seb can see it through FaceTime.
“Ah,” Seb says. “Yes, mine arrived yesterday. They’re eager, aren’t they?”
Lewis purses his lips, then pulls the invite away so he can read over it again.
Max Verstappen
&
Charles Leclerc
Invite you to celebrate their wedding
17.08.24
“Do you think about getting married?” Seb asks.
Lewis can’t help his scoff. “Seb.”
“What?” Seb asks innocently. “You are 38 now, surely it is time to settle down.”
“And get some bees?” Lewis asks wryly, flipping the invitation over so it’s face down.
Seb shrugs. “There are worse things.”
Lewis struggles to swallow down the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat. His shoulder aches, a phantom pain that his doctor says is more psychosomatic than ongoing complications.
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “I guess there are.”
// The angsty brocedes backstory I've been promising for months, featuring the Lestappen wedding.
Series
- Part 3 of don't blame me, love made me crazy
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Summary
“I don’t know,” He finds himself staring at another picture. Max is laughing brightly, to the point where his eyes are crinkled, and his mother is smiling too. There is a navy cap on her head: it is a Red Bull cap. Max’s Red Bull cap. “It’s just hard to imagine, I think.”
Pascale looks at him. For a moment it is an odd look. But that quickly melts into a smile. One that is gentle around the eyes, and soft on the mouth. Somehow, it makes Charles feel young again — younger than how he already feels; twenty-one in a world where he is twenty-five.
“You don’t have to imagine it, mon garçon,” she says quietly. “It has already happened.”
Or,
The last thing Charles remembers is the 2019 Austrian Grand Prix.