#George Gomez

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Spy Hunter (1984)

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Lake County prosecutors Friday charged Robert Crimo Jr., father of alleged Highland Park Fourth of July parade shooter Robert “Bobby” Crimo III, with felony reckless conduct for sponsoring his son’s firearm owner’s identification card.

State’s Attorney Eric Rinehart would not say explicitly why Crimo Jr.’s sponsorship amounted to a crime, but hinted it was due to the father’s possible knowledge of his son’s troubled background.

“He knew what he knew and he signed the form anyway,” Rinehart said at a news conference at the Lake County courthouse in Waukegan. “This was criminally reckless and a contributing cause to the bodily harm suffered by the victims on July 4.”

Crimo Jr. faces seven counts of the charge — one for each person killed in the attack. Felony reckless conduct has maximum penalty of three years in prison, but probation is also an option.

Rinehart said Crimo Jr. turned himself in to Highland Park Police Friday, and faces a bond hearing Saturday.

Crimo Jr.’s lawyer, George Gomez, who said in the past that his client hadn’t been aware Crimo III was a danger to anyone when he sponsored the FOID card, blasted the charges as baseless and unprecedented.

“On the eve of the statute of limitations for reckless conduct related to the sponsorship of Crimo III’s FOID application, the Lake County state’s attorney hastily made a decision to charge my client,” Gomez said in a statement.

“This decision should alarm every single parent in the United States of America who according to the Lake County state’s attorney knows exactly what is going on with their 19-year-old adult children and can be held criminally liable for actions taken nearly three years later. These charges are absurd and we will fight them every step of the way. Mr. Crimo Jr. continues to sympathize and feel terrible for the individuals and families who were injured and lost loved ones this past July Fourth, but these charges are politically motivated and a distraction from the real change that needs to happen in this country.”

Prosecutors say Crimo III fired dozens of shots from a rooftop perch into the crowd gathered for a Fourth of July parade in Highland Park. Seven people were killed and 48 wounded.

Crimo III has been charged with seven counts of first-degree murder in what Rinehart called a “premeditated and calculated attack.” His next court hearing is scheduled for Jan. 31.

Meanwhile, police reports show officers were called to the Crimo home nine times between 2010 and 2014 in response to domestic altercations involving the parents, Robert Crimo Jr. and Denise Pesina. Records showed neither had been charged with domestic violence in Lake County.

In 2019, Highland Park Police reports stated officers were called to domestic cases involving the family, and were told Crimo III had tried to kill himself with a machete and threatened to kill “everyone.”

Crimo III denied it, and no charges were filed.

Local police reported Crimo III to Illinois State Police as a “clear and present danger,” but state police approved his application for a FOID card with his father’s sponsorship, in December 2019.

Crimo III was 19 at the time, which made him unable to get a FOID card — required to buy a firearm legally — without his father’s assistance, Rinehart said.

Crimo Jr. told ABC News he was shocked and felt “horrible” about the shooting, but had “no regret” over helping his son get access to guns.

The clear and present danger request was not retained in state police records, per the rules at the time. Meanwhile, there was no record that anyone — family or police — filed a firearms restraining order, or FRO, related to Crimo, something that would have allowed a judge to bar him from purchasing firearms based on evidence that he posed a threat to himself or others.

State Police officials last month announced changes to both clear and present danger and FRO. Officials said they had developed a new FRO policy that includes specific guidance for law enforcement on how to use the laws. In addition, clear and present danger requests will now be retained for longer periods of time.

Highland Park resident Dr. Emily Lieberman, who fled the Fourth of July gunfire with her family, said she thought Crimo Jr. should indeed be held responsible for helping his son secure a FOID card. But she added that there is a larger issue to face.

“These assault weapons should not be available,” she said when reached by phone Friday night. “They are made to kill the (largest) amount of people in the shortest amount of time. Had that weapon not been available, this horrible event would not have occurred.”

Rinehart echoed that sentiment while announcing the charges, urging the General Assembly to adopt new gun laws.

“For too long we have allowed a vocal minority to drown out the will of the majority and stall common sense legislation about gun safety,” he said. “In my role as state’s attorney of Lake County and as a father, I am once again asking legislators to make the decision that this will never happen again by banning assault weapons and large capacity magazines.”

[smbhax]

Game developer interviews in Midway Arcade Treasures (PS2)

Session: https://youtu.be/hF0LDyrLcdY

Eugene Jarvis (Robotron, Blaster, Defender, Smash T.V., etc), Larry DeMar (Robotron, Blaster, Defender, etc), John Newcomer (Joust, Splat!, etc), George Gomez (Satan's Hollow, Spy Hunter, etc)

[wolfstardaughter-jj]

Y/n: *literally just existing*

Fred from afar: *staring lovingly*

Fred: look at her...I would die for her...I would kill for her...either way, what bliss?

George:

Lee:

Everybody near him:

Fred:...I said that out loud, didn't I?

[amirasainz]

as someone who is currently badly injured, I would love to see Carlos and the drivers+WAG'd reactions to Baby! Sainz getting injured, like a broken bone

i love your writing so much!!! 💗💗

Hi love! I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope you'll be fine again soon. I hope you'll enjoy this little piece for you! 💕 My requests are always open and feedback is very much welcome. -XoXo

The broken arm

You know that moment when terror spreads through your whole body? The voices around you become muffled, and your heart hammers in your chest. You can’t get enough air into your lungs. For one millisecond, you think this is the end. Your hands start to shake, and your body heat seems to drain away. Carlos felt all of this right now. For that brief moment, the world stopped. Everything froze. His eyes remained glued to the floor, which stared right back at him. The color drained from his face. In that fleeting instant, Carlos wished the world would swallow him whole.

When he took his next breath, everything around him sprang back to life. He heard Kika and Alex crying, Oscar and Lewis arguing with the nurse, Lando fainting and falling, Charles taking deep, shuddering breaths, Carmen and George trying to console each other, Lily pacing the floor, Alex staring shell-shocked at the wall, Max rubbing his hands up and down Kelly’s leg, and Pierre cursing in French.

It was all too much. The only thing keeping Carlos from spiraling was Rebecca. She knelt down in front of him and took his face in her hands. “Hey, Carlos. Everything is okay. She’s alright. It’s just a broken arm.” Oh, how his heart broke.

No one would have thought that before 8 p.m., the hospital would be flooded with drivers and WAGs. Why? Because Amira Sainz accidentally slipped down the stairs. And boy, did that hurt. When she was on the floor again, she was surrounded by people. Before anyone could ask her anything, she started crying. That was all it took for the group, including Mamá and Papá Sainz, to rush to the hospital.

When the nurse emerged and informed them that his little sister had broken her arm, chaos erupted. The group’s loud reactions drew plenty of attention, but in their defense, the nurse had just shattered their hearts.

“It’s just a broken arm. She’ll be fine in 4 weeks.”

Four weeks! That couldn’t be right. While the atmosphere outside felt like the onset of an apocalypse, inside Amira’s room, it was surprisingly calm.

Mamá gently stroked Amira’s hair, while Papá held her hand (the uninjured one). “Estás bien, mi princesa. Eres tan valiente en este momento,” Mamá whispered sweetly in her ear. Reyes and Carlos Sr. knew how terrified their daughter was of hospitals, so they both did their best to reassure her.

The kind doctor addressed her."Señorita Amira, in four weeks, everything will be okay again. Just be careful not to get the cast wet.” Carlos Sr. thanked the doctor, and Reyes asked, “Are you ready to go, mi hija?” Amira nodded quickly, and with Papá’s assistance, she hopped down from the bed, still holding his hand. After all, she was his daughter.

As they returned to the entrance, they were met with a crowd of people. Over the next four weeks, Amira was treated like the little princess she truly was.

Carmen and George accompanied her on walks through the park. Charles and Alex visited with Baby Léo. Max shared some silly Red Bull rumors while Kelly gently painted her nails. Yuki prepared meals for her. Lewis pampered her with skincare routines. Alex and Lily joined her for movie nights, watching all her favorite films. Lando engaged in playful games with her. Kika and Pierre exchanged gossip. Oscar, Lily, and she went shopping together. They all did things for her, and she felt immense gratitude.

Yet, her most cherished moments were when Carlos and Rebecca were present. Her brother always cooked her favorite dishes, while Rebecca patiently braided her long hair. During those moments, everything felt calm. “Are you okay, darling?” Rebecca inquired. Amira glanced over her shoulder and quietly replied, “Yes.” Becca smiled, kissed her cheek, and resumed braiding, both of them engrossed in their show. As for Carlos, he relished seeing his two favorite girls bonding. But just as he settled into the scene, an odd smell reached his nose. When he turned around, he discovered the pizza had burned.

"Fuck…."

[spinteresting]

We don’t talk about this photo enough.

[privgeorgeluz]

band of brothers • behind the scenes

[yourspeirs]

[kafka-ohdear]

oh lord you little sad wet cat

[wiltedprayers]

rick gomez as george luz bts

[nick19203]

shittt my men look so good here fuckkkkkk

[vroomvroommuppett]

i am in the mood to do throuple smaus so please send requests for the following

george x alex x reader

charles x carlos x reader

carlos x lando x reader

lando x max x reader

lando x oscar x reader

logan x oscar x reader

pierre x charles x reader

max x charles x reader

george x carmen x reader

charles x alex x reader

pierre x kika x reader

alex x lily x reader

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

When the company was running Curahee Luz, who was good at disguising his voice, would call out, ‘Captain Sobel to the rear.’ Sobel, who always ran at the head of the column, would dutifully double back to see what was up. Finding no problems and undoubtedly perturbed, he’d run back up to the front of the column. Later the joke would be repeated.

~ Forest Guth

[she-wolf09231982]

I found this on Pinterest and I absolutely lost it 🤣 Toye’s face 😆 If you know, you know

[bloodstainedsaint]

thank you thank you thank yooou!! And I don’t mind waiting for good stuff 🤷‍♀️

Okay so my idea kinda was in episode 7 when George and Lipton is in the same foxhole. So they get “hit” by the dud but the reader is so scared something actually happened to George, so she is running towards their foxhole and George is screaming for her to stay put cuz he’s okay and then she gets hit….or almost…I mean something tragic. I wanna bawl my eyes out.

And of course…feel free to not do it, if you think it sucks🧡 Love your stuff and have a good day !

louder than bombs (george luz x reader)

word count: 1800+

warnings: blood, gore, death, angst (w happy ending), bff! roe, mutual pining, i hint at both renée x roe AND baberoe

notes: used some hcs from this (shameless self-plug), and happy new year to all! i hope that 2024 is your year :)

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

Despite Lieutenant Dike’s request not to (like you'd listen to a coward like him anyway, even if he did have a good point), you and Eugene were sharing a foxhole — one a few meters behind where Skip, Penk, Don, and Luz were standing around in a circle, joking and laughing.

Taking your eyes off the man in question — you'd been staring at him from afar for too long, anyway — you turned to Eugene with a befuddled expression. “What do you mean, ‘You and Luz?’”

He took one look at your face and chuckled around the cigarette in his mouth. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“You say that as if we’re together or something, Gene,” you scoffed and held yourself tighter for warmth.

“Practically. Seen yourself lately? You blush and smile whenever he talks to you.”

Spluttering in response, you could feel your ears going red. “Well, Bayou, what if I’m blushing because it's zero degrees out here? And what if he’s just a funny guy in general?”

Eugene glanced over to the group of men, and, as if on cue, they were cracking up at George’s impression of the chickenshit lieutenant. “He’s a good match for you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, I'm so glad you approve,” you said, rolling your eyes at your friend. “Gonna read our wedding rites now?”

He put out his cigarette. “He makes you laugh. We could all use some of that.”

You inspected the faraway look in Eugene’s eyes, and you knew he was right. The fatal accident with the goddamned Luger that killed Hoobler recently, the barrage earlier today that sent both Joe Toye and Bill home with missing right legs, the overall misery of this frozen hell. You’d all seen your fair share of blood and open flesh; the company needed the beam of light that was George Luz.

Watching Luz as he was pulled aside by Lipton, you exhaled, nodded, and huddled a little closer to Eugene. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.” After a few quiet, thoughtful moments, a small smile creeped back up on your face when you thought of something to bring up the mood again.

“You never heard me teasing you about Renée,” you muttered beneath your breath, loud enough for him to hear and correct you on because you had teased him about the Belgian nurse. Before he could, you pushed on, your grin growing, “Hey, what about you and Babe, huh?”

Now it was his turn to turn to you shocked. Your snickering was interrupted by the roaring, deafening sound of a bombardment shredding trees around you.

“Shit!” you cursed, the night sky lighting up with fireworks of yellow and white. Snow and dirt erupted from the ground like spurts of lava from a volcano. Through the ringing in your ears, you heard bellows of “Incoming!” and other indistinct cries.

Turning to the man next to you, you shouted above the din, “Eugene, you alright?”

“Fine,” he shouted back as he clutched his helmet tight to his head. “You?”

“Fine,” you echoed with a nod, though maybe your head had moved on its own with the shaking ground beneath you. You strained your ears to single out cries for a medic; you didn't catch any, and you weren't sure if that was because no one had gotten hurt yet or because they were dead within an instant.

You peeped over the edge of your foxhole. In the flashes of light, you could make out amongst the silhouette of wrecked trees George hurriedly crawling on the ground towards a foxhole with two soldiers in it, yelling for him to come on. If your hearing wasn't failing you, you recognized their voices as Skip and Penk.

“What d’ya see?” Eugene poked his head out of the foxhole.

Your voice was strangled in your throat as you helplessly watched George inch his way toward cover. “I—” you started, before a shell directly hit the two men in the middle of their calls. Frantically, you backed into your foxhole. “Skip and Penk, they’re…”

“What?” Eugene shouted, and you realized you had only murmured it.

“Muck and Penkala got hit!” you cried. The look you gave Eugene told him that there would be no saving them.

You got back up to peek over your foxhole and saw that Luz had vanished. Your heart sank in your chest, right down to the pits of your stomach.

Before your mind could register what was going on, your feet lifted you up and out of the foxhole. You could faintly hear Eugene yelling at you to come back, (Y/N), what the hell are you doing? You hit the ground at the same time a shell did just meters away from you, showering you in debris. Yet, you felt distant from the thought of danger or bodily harm, your raw instinct on overdrive; the only thing that was running through your mind as you dashed through the devastated forest was if George was okay.

Eyes flitting around, you caught a glimpse of him getting into a foxhole with Lip. As waves of relief washed over you, you jumped into a foxhole a distance behind them. A shell impacted nearby and swept the fallen trees acting as their cover towards you. You pulled your knees close to your chest and covered your head, staying like that as the barrage kept up.

Then, for just a second, it was silent. Closing your eyes, you caught your breath. A whistling sound ceased the brief respite, and you peered over just in time to see smoke coming from George and Lipton’s foxhole. Your mind disconnected itself from your body once again; it felt like you were moving in slow motion as your feet took you to them. That smoke clouded your senses, your thoughts — all you could see and hear were the vivid memories of Hoobler’s wound gushing blood and his dull eyes closing shut for the last time; you treating Bill’s still twitching leg while Toye’s shredded one was being bandaged by Eugene only feet away; and Muck and Penkala’s foxhole going up in a spray of dirt and a show of light, abruptly cutting off their shouting.

What were you going to see when you arrived at their foxhole? Bloodstained snow? Mangled limbs? Ruined corpses? Even the thought made you want to sob.

Your heart thundered in your ear, louder than any bombs or artillery the Germans could send at you, but you could vaguely discern George’s voice in your trance.

“Damn it, am I yelling medic? Stay right fucking there, (Y/N)!”

Right as you were shaken out of your own head, your eyes focusing on the two unharmed men as they yelled for you to stay put, a shell hit a tree hardly an arm’s length away from you. The burst launched you backwards, lodging shrapnel into your face and all over your body.

You let your eyes flutter closed as the screaming started.

-

“(Y/N)!” George bawled, witnessing the last shell of the bombardment blast the tree right next to you.

“George, get down!” Lip pushed George down into the foxhole from where he'd been peeking over to helplessly watch your unsteady advance.

George couldn't get the image of you shielding yourself at the last second out of his head. He broke free from Lipton and crawled out of his foxhole to your unmoving figure, relieved to find that you were still breathing out clouds of vapor, albeit unevenly. Your right cheek was cut and bleeding, as well as your arms, legs, torso — hell, was there anywhere you weren’t bleeding from?

He cradled your head to his, whispering that it's gonna be alright and you’re gonna be just dandy, (Y/N), even though he didn't believe those words himself. He lifted his head from yours and yelled for a medic with a hoarse voice, already scratched up from having to shout over the booming to tell Lipton that Muck and Penkala got hit.

George then realized that he had gotten extremely lucky that day; Muck and Penkala had been shelled just before he reached their foxhole, and the shell that had landed next to him and Lipton was a dud. Staring down at your bloodied form, he darkly concluded that maybe he wasn't lucky — maybe he just brought bad luck to everyone else.

Eugene seemed to materialize out of thin air at the panicked calls for a doctor and kneeled over you, ordering, “Set ‘em down, set ‘em down!” George laid you down on the icy ground, and he saw that your eyes were open now, darting around at your surroundings. You looked frightened and pained, yet when your eyes finally settled on him, you seemed somewhat at ease.

“Jesus, what did I tell you, (Y/N)?” Eugene reprimanded, but the concern in his voice was evident. He began picking out the shrapnel from your flesh, and you wailed out in agony. Ripping open a sulfa packet with his teeth, he then shook the powder onto your countless wounds.

In the back of his mind, George knew that your pained whimpers would haunt him forever if you didn't pull through, acting as the price of his "good luck".

“Told me to come back, Genie,” you smiled mirthlessly, which quickly became a wince with the gash in your cheek. The white medic band around your arm was stained the same color as the red cross on it.

Lipton was out of the foxhole at this point and assisting Eugene with bandaging your injuries. “You’ll be fine, alright? Just hang in there.”

George registered that he had only been staring, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed your clammy hand, to which you weakly squeezed back.

Grimacing while he injected you with morphine, Eugene said to Lipton, “They’re bleeding bad, Sarge; we gotta get ‘em back to an aid station.”

George’s voice sounded far off from himself. “I’ll radio for a jeep.” As he did so, his hand still clutching yours, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the excruciation on your face. For some reason, he felt guilty.

Though it felt like years to him, the jeep arrived shortly, and the three of them carried you to the stretcher on the hood of the vehicle and gingerly placed you upon it.

Gazing down upon you on that stretcher, your face streaked with crimson, your hair matted with dried blood, George wanted to say, “I still find you beautiful, Bloody Mary," but for what felt like first time in his life, the words weren't there and the wiseass comment just refused to come out right.

What came tumbling out of his lips instead was, “I love you.”

Pausing, Lipton and Eugene exchanged a knowing look and watched with bated breath. Meanwhile, George wanted to smack himself for letting the adrenaline coursing through his veins get to him; this was definitely not what you wanted to hear — rejecting him should be the least of your worries right now.

To his utter disbelief, you smiled, in spite of yourself and the grim circumstances. “I love you too, George.”

Once his brain wrapped around the fact that you needed him as much as he needed you, he implored, "Come back to me, alright?” He gently caressed your cheek, his voice sounding different to himself with the undertone of desperation. “I—I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You placed a feeble hand over his and turned to press a kiss to it. “I'm counting on it.”

The driver finally grew tired of the delay and urged them to get moving. George stepped away as Eugene hopped in the jeep’s shotgun seat to escort you back to the aid station.

Lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, George watched the jeep dissipate into the blanket of night.

-

Eugene let things sink in for a while; you were grateful for the time to rest as the morphine kicked in. When you arrived, though, you were awake enough to hear him ask again, a rare smirk hidden in his voice:

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe, @fxxiva

[amirasainz]

I admit I read everything with baby Sainz in it.🫢 And as I'm on a Lando bender again. (Loving all things Lando) I was wondering if you could write something with Baby Sainz and Lando about how they got into a fight and the whole grid is there for her and being mean to Lando but like the fight was something really little and silly. (Something like Lando not putting his clothes away)

I hope that makes sense.

Oooppp!!!! That make me so happy to know that people enjoy reading my writing. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as well and let me know if you have any requests. I will do my best to write them ASAP

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Trouble in paradise

There were two things Lando hated dearly: fish and seeing his girlfriend cry. The first one is pretty self-explanatory. For him, fish tasted horrible and looked disgusting. It had a weird consistency and smelled—oh god, don’t get him started on the smell. The second thing, seeing his girlfriend cry, was because a beautiful girl like her should never have to feel any sadness. Her pretty eyes should never fill with tears, making the window to her soul more obvious than ever. Her perfect lips should never tremble, and her voice should never crack. Amira was made for being happy and carefree.

However, this morning, Lando managed to do the worst thing ever. He made his girl cry. And why? Because he is the biggest idiot on earth. The only thing she asked him yesterday was if he could start doing the laundry. Like the lovesick fool he is, he was more enamored with her presence than actually listening to her words. When she wanted to wear her favorite shirt today, which was in the laundry, Lando had to admit that he didn’t do anything. Maybe it was the current heat, her jet lag, her hunger, or the frustration that he didn’t do the simple task she asked him to do, but all of it was too much. And Amira tried to be brave, she really did. But she couldn’t help but let her frustration and sadness out through her tears. When Lando saw his girlfriend crying in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to cry himself. What kind of monster is he, making his perfect girlfriend cry because he was a lazy idiot?

The others around them immediately realized something was wrong when the couple arrived this morning in the paddock. Usually, Lando would have his arm around her shoulders, their hands intertwined, kissing her shamelessly in front of everyone and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. But today, they arrived with only their pinkies intertwined. Despite having a huge fight about something so silly this morning, the couple couldn’t stand not touching one another. If their unusual entrance wasn’t a huge sign that something was wrong, it was Amira’s behavior. Instead of wearing bright, vibrant colors, the young woman wore a black jacket with sunglasses on. Her blue shirt was the only speck of color in her outfit. If even THAT wasn’t a sign that something was amiss between them, it was on their way to the motorhomes. Instead of leading Amira proudly into his side of the garage, he brought her to the Ferrari garage. There, one could see Lando hugging Amira, whose shoulders shook. Without another word, Amira left a heartbroken Lando inside. One might have thought that something terrible had happened to his family, instead of him forgetting to do the laundry…

The news spread like wildfire that Amira and Lando had a fight because Lando couldn’t be trusted to do a simple task. The drivers and WAGs were furious when they heard about what happened. Carlos even went as far as keeping his sister inside his driver’s room, making her sleep and eat something. While Carlos was busy taking care of his precious sister, Lando had the worst day of his life. EVER.

It all started when he ran into Carmen and George. The couple were busy staring daggers at him while he was on his way to the media pen. Lando was so distracted by their glares that he didn’t see Lewis. He bumped straight into the 8-time world champion, who wasn’t very keen on seeing the young Brit. “Oh, sorry Lewis. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Lando apologized. Lewis looked him up and down before muttering, “Seems like you never mean to do something.” Before Lando had a chance to ask what he meant, Lewis turned around and walked away.

A confused Lando continued walking to the media pen. During the conference, he was asked about his outfit ( new Quadrant merch) when Max muttered loud enough for the microphones to pick up: “Must be nice to have clothes you can wear because you can rely on your partner.” The atmosphere in the room became strained in a matter of seconds. The reporter awkwardly tried to move on. Lando wasn’t stupid; he knew what this was. This was his punishment for upsetting the paddock princess.

After a 40-minute-long speech from Lily and Kika about how important giving and taking in a healthy relationship was, Fernando calling him “El mayor idiota que ha existido en la tierra,” Charles letting Leo bite him, Lily and Oscar giving him the biggest side-eye ever throughout the day, Yuki “accidentally” pushing him into a wall, and Pierre starting gossip about him, he finally went to Carlos’s driver’s room.

He gently knocked on the door, wishing it would be his girl opening it. Sadly, today was truly not his day, because he was met with the sight of an angry Carlos. Before Lando had the chance to say anything, Carlos brought him closer. He whispered quietly in Lando’s ear: “If Amira wasn’t so damn much in love with you, you would already be under the earth. I know where you live, I know your password, I know your deepest secrets. If you ever, and I mean ever, in your entire life make my sister cry again, it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. ¿He sido claro?” Carlos only let poor Lando go after he swore to never do something stupid like that again. “Good, now you will go inside, apologize to Amira, and buy her a new freaking Birkin bag. Did I make myself clear?” Carlos sternly asked.

Safe to say that Lando did a lot of groveling that day. It took the drivers and WAGs 5 months, 1 week, 28 days, and 17 hours to stop with the “Lando-fuck-up” jokes. And Amira? She never had to wonder about a thing again; they now had a housemaid, Aurelia, who only adored Amira and not Lando.