#volkswagen we

[ethanharmonia]

Pokemon AU Day 12! :D

The God Himself

GOD IT TURNED OUT BETTER THAN I EXPECTED IT TO BE AHAAAA

Honestly i have been wanting to draw volo's god design for some time and today was the day i had to do it >:D

(and no, he is not evil, let him be a good guy for once, REDEMPTION ARC WHEN)

[victusinveritas]

[celepeace]

What is it about snow that the instant there starts being even a little buildup on the road drivers start acting like they got a brain transplant from a hamster and laws don't exist. Yesterday I had to take my boyfriend to urgent care and in the span of like 3 minutes I saw two people driving on the wrong side of the road, someone else whip through a parking lot perpendicular to the direction of traffic like they had right of way, and yet another person do 80 on the freeway during rush hour traffic and make multiple lane changes without a signal. In the snow.

[harleythealter]

Car things!!!

So. I finally got my dad to help with my car. And like. You know it’s bad when he says shit. Because usually he only swears in jokes.

But here’s what we did. He almost pulled out my front light and then I realized what he was doing and I was like. Actually no… we had to pull out the radiating box to change my lightbulb. Then realized that my lightbulb wasn’t burnt out and that it was all the exposed wires touching eachother. So we put tape around those. We found the box for the horn but it’s so old it apparently can’t be fixed? So fuck my life if somebody is about to hit me. 🤷‍♀️ and then we put the 1/4 used lightbulb back away. And then put everything in. Found out it still didn’t fix it. Sooooo then we wiggled a plastic piece on the bottom of my car. I checked my oil. It’s kinda low. We go and check my Spoiler. Which is what you see on race cars. It’s that extra bar on the back of my car. I always thought it was the wing? But it actually doesn’t matter.

This is when my dad says Shit. Really low under his breath because my fiber glass broke. Sooooo guess what we do… we put fucking caulk on my car to hold it together. I almost died trying to hold my laughter in.

Anyways. We then hee haw about how long I should wait until I drive my car again. We decide it doesn’t really matter. Then I mention the plastic under my car and my dad was like… it’s on that side? Oh… it is on that side. As he’s looking at this two square ft piece of plastic hanging off. So we wiggled it aggressively until it came off and threw it away.

And then I added a bit more oil to my car and coolant. I asked. How do I know how much coolant to put in?

And he just says… you fill it up until it overflows.

So incase anybody was wondering. We diagnosed a lot of shit but didn’t fix much of it :)

Oh and I have a leak in my rear tire.

HEY! The adventure didn’t stop there!! My mom just told me that she’s got my new registration coming in the next ten business days so my car will be a little less illegal than before. :P I’m so happy.

[edit] I forgot the picture

[thatcharmingjerk]

@angry-velociraptor

THANK YOU!!! I WILL!!!!! me too and it's been a while since last time so this is fun treat!! Plus this one's probably the biggest car show in Finland and I've only been to smaller ones so very excited!!!!

[snaileer]

We Didn’t Start The Fire

“See man, the moon!” Kid Flash said as they came outside, standing on the pile of rubble.

“And Superman! Do we fulfill our promises or what…” his voice trails off as a grinding clanking sound echoes behind them.

They turned around, confused to see a tricked out pale yellow Volkswagen bug trucking its way up the rubble and crumbled building blocks. It stopped before it got too steep, a man in a familiar white lab coat stumbling out.

Immediately, they were on guard, the man haphazardly climbing towards them.

Robin drew two batarangs in each hand, standing in front of Superboy as he got closer. It didn’t even matter that the Justice League had just landed behind them, if this CADMUS scientist tried something, Robin would be the first to defend Superboy. Without hesitance.

The man stopped in front of them, huffing for breath.

“You’re-!” He stopped, leaning over his knees with gasping breaths, “Sorry, one sec!” He held up a finger, gasping for another few seconds before stepping forward-

Chains of water surrounded him before they could blink, Robin looking back surprised to see Aqualad standing with extended weapons and a grim face.

“This is odd.” The man looked at the water wrapped around him, wriggling a bit before shrugging. His eyes zeroed in on Superboy, “You’re okay!” He said with a blinding grin.

Superboy recoiled and Robin immediately stepped between them.

“What.”

The man glanced at him briefly before looking back over Robin’s head, “You are okay right? I mean I tried my best but I couldn’t figure out a way to get you out- I mean if I’d known you were there to begin with I’d would have never-but then I wouldn’t have-

“Who are you?” Superman asks, suddenly close from behind them.

The man’s mouth clicks shut, looking between them all before a grimacing smile rises to his face.

He extends his hand at the elbow between the liquid chains, “Dr. Danny Fenton, ex-biochemical engineer of CADMUS labs Mr.Superman,sir.”

Flash zips forward, the eyes of his cowl narrowed, “Ex?”

The grimace turns into a wince. “Oh.. heh, yeah, I’ve found that arson is usually a pretty good kickstart of sudden unemployment,” there’s a thoughtful pause as he looks over the rubble, “It’s usually accidental though.”

Nobody responds.

“What? You didn’t think that lab fire started on its own did you? How else was I supposed to get you here?”

“There’s a Justice League public phone! That’s literally its entire purpose!” Kid Flash shouts, throwing his hands in the air. At this point, Aqualad cautiously lowers his water bearers, releasing Fenton.

“Oh, sure, I call a bunch of superheroes and tell them my boss is doing a Grow-Your-Own-Superman in the boiler room. That’d go over well.” He pauses, “Though the sidekicks was a surprise.”

The comment goes uncorrected, as the rest of the league has snapped to face Superboy the moment he says it.

Superman looks stricken as Superboy reveals the logo on his torn shirt.

Fenton unceremoniously breaks the tension, “Sorry I never asked, do you have a name? I’d feel really bad just calling you-“

“… They called me.. Superboy..” He says, still not looking away from the man of steel in front of him.

“That’s not-“ Fenton rubs his temples and sighs harshly, “Okay, I can fix that later, whatever-“

“You’re not gonna be ‘fixing’ anything, Doctor.” Robin snarls.

Fenton blinks. “Huh?”

Batman steps forward, “Green Lantern.”

Green construct cuffs snap around the Dr.Fenton’s wrists, though he looks at them puzzled.

“Superman, check for survivors in the damage, Flash find some salvageable evidence before it finishes burning. The rest of us, we’ll continue this interrogation at the hall.”

“Wait what?” Dr. Fenton says, perking up like a meerkat even as Batman turns away with swirl of his cape.

“What about me?” Superboy asks, desperation in his hesitant step forward.

Batman looks to Superman. Superman nods, and then shoots off into the rubble and emergency vehicles.

“For now, you come with us.” Batman says, and Superboy’s shoulders loosen just a hint.

The dark knight pauses again before turning completely, “And don’t think we’ve forgotten the rest of you,” he says, cowled eyes narrowed over his shoulder, “Robin.”

Robin shirks back, “Heh.. Right.”

“Wait what’s going on?” The Fenton scientist yelled back over his shoulder as Green Lantern pulls him away.

He starts to say something but the construct fully engulfs him now, shifting from a platform to a soundproof bubble.

It seems to shock him enough, Fenton tapping at the walls and looking like he wants to take it apart and take a sample.

Robin grit his teeth.

He was not gonna let these CADMUS freaks touch Superboy again.

Not Fenton or anybody else.

[trashbaget]

.

[chez-cinnamon]

Meet Daisy Bus!!

I've had this idea in my head for months now- Clown said that Eddie would be the most likely to drive a vehicle, so I've made that canon in the RW AU!! She's a sweet and ditzy Volkswagen camper given to Eddie as a present for passing his license; though no one is exactly sure how she gained sentience,, at least Home has a friend now!!

Daisy Bus has a v close place in my heart bc when I was a baby my parents owned the IRL Daisy Bus before having to sell her before we moved abroad - not a day goes by that I don't think of her......

(Bonus Eddie license bc I thought it would be fun lmao)

[smuthospital]

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Paul Blest at More Perfect Union:

Thousands of workers at a Volkswagen plant in Chattanooga, Tennessee have voted to join the United Auto Workers, defying an all-out union-busting effort from the state’s political leaders and marking a key victory for the United Auto Workers in their renewed effort to organize the South and non-union plants.

Unofficial results tallied Friday showed that after three days of voting, more than two-thirds of workers voted to join the UAW. The win in Chattanooga is the first successful attempt to organize a non-union automaker in decades and comes after multiple failed attempts to organize the plant, including in 2014 and 2019. More than 4,300 workers were eligible to vote this week.  “I can't explain it. It's not like the first times,” Renee Berry, who has worked at the Chattanooga plant for 14 years and through two prior facility-wide votes, told us in the lead-up to the election. “The first few times was hell…now it's like we can roll our shoulders back, because we got it.”  Volkswagen is the world’s largest auto company by revenue, and until today, every one of its plants around the globe has been unionized except for one.

"This is going to be in history books down the road. This is huge—forever huge,” Robert Soderstrom, a worker at the plant, told More Perfect Union. “People recognize for the first time in a long time, on a mass scale, that there's got to be some changes. And some of the power and stuff that's gone to the corporate world needs to come back to us little guys.” The victory in Tennessee continues a winning streak for the UAW, which negotiated record contracts at the Detroit Three of Ford, GM, and Stellantis last year following a lengthy “stand-up” strike. After passing the contracts, UAW President Shawn Fain announced a $40 million effort to organize non-union U.S. plants, largely based in right-to-work states like Tennessee and owned by auto companies based in Europe, Japan, and South Korea, as well as EV manufacturers like Tesla and Rivian. 

Since launching that new effort, more than 10,000 autoworkers around the country have signed union cards, according to the UAW. Earlier this month, workers at a Mercedes plant in Vance, Alabama became the second group to file for an election, which will be held from May 13 to 17. Alabama Gov. Kay Ivey and the state Chamber of Commerce have forcefully opposed the unionization effort, claiming it would hurt Alabama autoworkers—who, even before the pandemic, were making less than they did in 2002 when adjusted for inflation. The same dynamic has played out in Tennessee. Gov. Bill Lee, who denounced the last unsuccessful union campaign in 2019, said it would be a “mistake” for workers at the Chattanooga plant to unionize and boasted about the state’s “right-to-work” law. 

🚨🚨 BREAKING:🚨🚨 Workers at the Volkswagen (VW) plant in Chattanooga have voted yes to join the United Auto Workers (UAW) after 2 failed attempts in 2014 and 2019. #UAW #VWChattanooga #1u

[strawberrysainz]

about you. charles leclerc

“ snippets of times your paths cross. and how you begin to intertwine a little. / in which you, after many months, find your way back to him again. ”

charles leclerc x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

strongly advise listening to ‘about you’ by the 1975 just for extra vibes idk

The first thing you think, as he gestures for you to lean into the window of his car - Andrea is holding up your red iPhone to take this picture you may have dreamed of since forever - is that he smelled very real.

It sounds ridiculous. Of course it does, but there is a significant way in which he smells like almond and vanilla scented something that makes you feel like you’re sixteen in your shower with your mum’s body wash she was gifted that in turn was for your own use (she liked soap bars instead).

And as the man smiles and counts down from three, you try to smile effortlessly- you will be showing this photo for years to come- but instead your grin is real, because he is real now, you will remember the smell, his smile, the soft lilt of his voice that you knew wasn’t his proper one.

“Thank you,” you say for a moment, sincere. The Sunday evening is early and welcome, his race win is fresh on everyone’s minds.

“And congratulations.” You add, as an afterthought, smiling. “I seem to have forgotten that.”

He falters for a moment - your casualness has seemed to startle him - and your friends are already pulling you away from the car, wanting to beat the traffic. Andrea hands your phone back and you lean a bit awkwardly over Charles to get it. Charles is staring at you with some sort of amusement, and as you shout a goodbye and a thank you, he waves with a grin as some boys run up to the car.

You laugh into the night air as you get into the taxi, staring at the photos, some candid, some not, of the two of you.

His smile is as big as yours, clearly ecstatic about his win still.

🍷🍝📷💋

A few months later - it’s summer - and you’re in Italy, hot nights and all the Aperol Spritzes are powering you through the days. You’re bundled up in the front seat of a little Volkswagen Beetle on your way to someone’s villa/winery when you notice two guys standing on the side of the road with a car that’s run out of petrol.

You gesture to your friend, and she sighs, and you pause the song and stick your head out of the yellow car. “Are you guys okay?” You say in that heavy accented English, and with a jolt you realise it’s Charles and Joris.

Your friend has realised too - she was at the Grand Prix with you that night - and Charles is staring at the two of you through those RayBans, a little laughing smirk on his face. “The car’s gone.“

“Are you sorting it out, or…?” You say, giggling a little; Joris looks very uncomfortable in the summer sun.

“Everyone’s closed. We called. It’s a Sunday.”

“Get in,” you say, sharing a glance with your friend, “Come have some lunch. One of our friend’s dad is a mechanic, we’ll see what he can do.”

You watch him debate with Joris silently, and then with a shrug they get in.

“This is Stella,” you say, smiling, and introduce yourself too. Charles’ face kind of squints with recognition. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I met you in Monaco the night you won,” you smile, kind of embarrassed, and he slaps his thigh, making a noise of recognition to be nice (but you know he doesn’t remember that interaction at all).

You nod and Stel talks to them for a while, talking about how lovely Italy’s been in August, and the road is winding away until you’re at Luca’s.

🍷🍝📷💋

You friend Luca is very drunk, you note, the flush on his cheeks and the lazy lilt to his voice are very apparent. When he recognises Charles - this friend group is F1 mad - he hugs him and runs away immediately to get him a drink.

You’ve let your friends take on the role of entertainment for the guests, opting to strip down to your bikini and hop in the pool. It’s a scorching hot day, and you lather on sun cream before relaxing with a spicy margherita in your hands.

Your girlfriends pounce, Stella telling the story of picking up the hitchhikers and one of them thinks she can “totally bag Leclerc” before you’re all called inside for the food.

Before you walk in, you slip on the pair of denim shorts you were wearing and some sandals. Charles has a drink in hand and is sitting at the table already, the pasta and homemade bread having been broken into. Stel pulls you in to sit opposite him and Joris, and you lean over to dish some salad while Charles discusses the watch on his wrist with one of your friends (it’s the car chase robbery story that went viral a few months ago). Joris watches on, looking a bit awkward, so you lean in and begin to make some conversation.

He gladly accepts the invitation to talk, and you launch into a conversation about the holiday he is on before getting stuck on the road. You realise Charles is watching you speak now, oddly engaged, and you look down at your food, cheeks hot.

“So you two were in Monaco, right? For the Grand Prix? How was it?” Charles says, smiling sort of amicably, and a rush of embarrassment engulfs you as you smile at him. “So good. We loved it.” You say, and Stella launches into a story about a weird man who sat next to you on the grandstand.

🍷🍝📷💋

You squeeze in to the middle of the backseat, between Charles and Joris: your bare legs brush against them both in a moment that has you scrunching your nose with disbelief, Luca’s dad rattles on in Italian in the passenger seat with a large petrol can in his lap.

Twenty minutes later, you’re back on the hill on the dark and you’re hugging Charles and Joris goodbye, waving them away. You blow a kiss and get back in the backseat, laughing, shaking your heads.

🍷🍝📷💋

Seven months later, the cold February air finds you in Milan as you walk by an open window. You’re here for work, for Fashion Week, and you drift between fashion houses and shows, writing about them, chatting to models and designers and curators and it’s all so elegant, fun and exciting.

Next on your list is Ferrari’s show in the early evening, looking down to your list, and the waitress brings over your drink in the cosy restaurant.

Sitting on a cold hard (concrete?) bench across from the runway, you’re sitting between to an influencer with the most gorgeous pink jacket you’ve ever seen and an old fashionable Italian man with leathery tanned skin (how is he so tan?), and you launch into conversation with him about his experience this week so far, making notes. The show is as good as it could get for the brand, their classic leather, green and red and yellow ensembles with some gems in between that you adore. It’s alright, you think, it’s average, and just as you’re debating leaving someone roars in Italian and holy shit, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz are walking down the runway.

You immediately begin to laugh a little under your breath, taking some pictures, and as Charles passes your side the girl next to you tries not to shout.

They look pretty cool, you think - all leather pants and shirts and vests, stuff you think they could use a little more of for their everyday fashion. You cheer along with everyone else as Carlos blows a kiss when they leave, laughing a little.

🍷🍝📷💋

You’re just about to leave when a girl comes up to you and engulfs you in a hug, and you tentatively grip her back before looking back, only then relaxing. She’s from university, she eagerly recounts memories of 1st year linguistics class. She hands you a glass of champagne and invites you back to the after celebration, and with a shrug - it can’t hurt, right? - you follow, being led into a room at the back.

It smells like too much cologne, and you scrunch your nose as you find a stray canapé to munch on when Joris calls your name.

Of course he’s standing there, and you run over to give him a hug.

“My saviour!” He jokes, and you laughed, staying by his side to have a chat. You can’t believe he even remembered you. You’re chatting about your latest projects when you’re interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. It’s Charles and Carlos, and Charles has to stare at you for five seconds to figure out who you are before he says your name, squeezing your shoulder. You stand there, rocking on your high heels for a second before he introduces you to Carlos.

“She saved me and Joris in Italy last summer when our car ran out of petrol, we had lunch at their friend’s house.”

Carlos laughs a little when Joris chips in. You’re staring at someone walking past in a great pair of red leather pants when Joris taps your arm.

“We still have to pay you back for last year. Do you want to go for dinner with us?”

Now Carlos’ girlfriend, Rebecca, has turned up, achingly beautiful, and Carlos introduces you and you kiss cheeks before she nods and says she’s so hungry too.

So you end up in a big black car, and Charles is phoning the restaurant and they don’t have a table for 5pm until he does a subtle name drop and then they magically do. Italy has a big love for him, their il predestinato. When you all pull up, there are a lot of people milling about outside, in sparkly dresses and sweatpants, lots of makeup and bare-faced, and you spot Suki Waterhouse when you walk in.

They give you a spot near the back, the brown wall making the space warm as you and Rebecca slide in to the booth.

They order aperitifs and you all chat about what you’ve been seeing this fashion week, the boys’ experience walking, and then you talk to Rebecca about her life for a while.

Then you all order seafood, and it’s delicious and tastes like it’s been made with joy and love.

“I still feel like we have to repay you,” Charles says, catching your attention, and you laugh and shrug the idea away. “This dinner’s lovely. It’s okay.”

“Can I give you and … -“ Joris murmurs to him, “Stella nice tickets to Monaco? Or Monza? Is that fine?”

“Monaco,” Joris nods, and Charles looks at him then back to you. “Really, it’s the least we can do.”

You are busy turning down the offer when Charles shakes his head. “Sorry. See you in May.”

🍷🍝📷💋

You and Stella giggle gleefully as you hear the little sound of your card authorising your access to the paddock. The two of you intertwine arms, walking down. You walk around, peering at everyone supposedly trying to get on with their business in the Thursday morning.

You send a text to Joris, and you just keep walking around for twenty minutes until he replies and says he’s sent someone to come get you. It’s a woman, and she has a lovely smile and she takes you to the hospitality - it’s upstairs, because the paddock is so small in Monaco, and you two have a glass of champagne before Joris appears, slightly sweaty. He’s just got here, he explains, him and Charles - they were slightly held up by fans.

You and Stella laugh and hug him.

🍷🍝📷💋

You spent the day just talking with Joris and other people in the hospitality about their jobs. It’s genuinely the best experience, and it’s nearing 6pm when everyone starts closing up and you are standing near the entrance/exit of the paddock, Stella in the bathroom when Charles comes up to you.

You’re on your phone when you hear him walk up, and you look up with a smile. You haven’t seen him since that dinner - three months ago - and when he pulls you into a hug you feel a rush of energy (electricity?) flow through you. His smile is big and bright.

“How was your day?” You ask, fiddling with your phone case, and he sighs dramatically. “Busy. Monaco is always crazy.”

You nod.

“How was yours?”

“So great. The people in your team are so wonderful. I had a really lovely day.”

Your dress swishes in the wind and you see him cast a glance down at your exposed legs before meeting your eyes again. “Me and Joris are going to do pasta tonight. Do you want to come over for it?”

“Stella’s still here…” you say awkwardly. “I’m not sure what she wanted to do, she mentioned going out.”

“Oh.” He nods. “Ok.”

Stella comes back from the bathroom and she smiled at Charles. “I never got to say thanks for this trip, it’s been great so far.”

Charles smiles at her. “No problem.”

🍷🍝📷💋

Friday comes and goes, a slightly uneventful day (you don’t see Charles, he’s too busy with the practices and the press) and there you are on a rainy Saturday morning.

Stella insisted on hiring a bicycle to get the ‘authentic experience’ so the two of you are busy cursing the weather in plastic rain jackets as you whiz down the streets on bright green bikes.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you see that Charles and Andrea getting off their bikes as you arrive. He notices you, sodden like a wet rat, your nice jeans probably ruined, and giggles in the pouring rain, coming over to help you off your bike and give you an awfully cold hug. His arms wrap around you and you feel him kiss your cheeks, so you return them, but you’re shivering so much he keeps his arms around you until the same nice lady from Thursday comes with an umbrella and takes you inside. You wave goodbye to Charles as he goes to the garage and you blush, your hair soaked still.

The woman takes you and Stella to a tiny little room with cupboards and points to a drawer that contains a hairdryer and a Dyson airwrap (to your delight) so the two of you end up hair-drying yourselves dry - jeans and all. You also get to touch up your makeup after you dry your bag with the hairdryer too.

Nice and warm, you’re given cappuccinos and you peer out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the track, and see the boats rock in the harbour due to the rain and the wind.

“I don’t think we’ll have qualifying on time at this rate,” another man comments, also a guest of Ferrari, and you and Stella nod, trying to seem up to speed with track condition information.

So an hour later the two of you get to watch the boys film a YouTube video, and part of a vlog they seem to be making.

Afterwards, Charles comes over with Joris, and the four of you chat for twenty minutes before Charles is called away. It’s soft conversation, irritating talk about the weather because of the people around you, so you’re glad to change the topic when he leaves.

“What are your plans for tomorrow evening?” Joris comments. There’s a big party, you’ve heard from the groups of rich and famous people, happening on this gigantic yacht tomorrow, but you haven’t scored an invite so you might just go clubbing. But that sounds embarrassing, so you shrug. “Not sure yet.”

“You have to come to this big party an old friend of Charles is hosting. It’s on this yacht and everyone will be there.”

You and Stella fistbump under the table.

“And what are you guys doing tonight? Charles said you guys were having pasta last night.”

Joris looks a little surprised for a moment then quirks his lips in thought. “Probably not anything. He likes to be alone the night before the race. But last year we did this little dinner at his brother’s house which ended up being really nice.”

You nod.

Qualifying is postponed until five o’clock, and you’re taken to the paddock club by someone to be able to stand at the top and peer down at the track.

The rain has quietened down, yet there’s a lot of tyre warfare, teams mistakenly putting on hards before spinning out so there’s a red flag or two before Q3.

You watch the big screens to see Max score pole, and with a wince Charles is only third.

It’s highly upsetting because of how crucial qualifying is for Monaco. So everyone supporting Ferrari (Carlos is sixth) lets out a heavy sigh before going back to the hospitality.

🍷🍝📷💋

It’s 8 now, the sky dimming, and Stella has plans to see an old school friend so you hang around the hospitality, dreading taking the stupid bike back to the hotel.

There’s an energy in the air tonight, the kind you only get in a different place at night. It’s that kind of powerful feeling. You’re talking to one of the chefs as they all finish their service for the night when Charles comes to pick up food, and you’re surprised to see him when he comes to stand next to you.

“Hi,” you say softly, smiling when the chef you’re talking to launches himself at Charles for a hug, speaking rapid French.

“Where’s Stella?” He asks, and he’s checking how his food looks through a peek at the polystyrene container when you reply. “She has plans with another friend tonight.”

“So what’re you doing?” He looks up at you.

“Avoiding taking the bike back to the hotel, then I’ll probably have dinner there.”

“If you ride that stupid big bicycle 5km back to the hotel now at night and in the rain alone I’m going to kill you.” His expression is one of concern.

You laugh as he laughs too, his cheeks warming.

“I’ll get someone to come pick it up, I know they work at the company. Please let me take you somewhere for some food?”

“Don’t you want to wind down before the race?” You ask, uncertain.

He shakes his head. “You won’t be a bother.” He says quietly, and you blush, looking down at the floor.

So you two leave, and he’s got a car waiting for him, and you sprint from the hospitality because the rain’s started to pour again.

🍷🍝📷💋

You have to stop at his apartment so he can drop off the food that he now probably won’t eat and so he can change out of his garishly red clothing to be a little more discreet.

You two stand alone in the lift, and you look at him in the mirror for a moment before your eyes meet and he looks away.

His apartment is immediately cosy in the way a man just has stuff everywhere. He has a coat of his mom’s you can borrow after he noticed you shiver when you got out of the car, and when he hands it to you the look on his face is so tender you feel a little anxious.

Going back down, you stand a little closer and get back in the car. He smells comforting now, like that cologne you once caught a whiff of one hot Italian summer day.

Scrolling through your feed, your phone lights up the car and he gets a call from his mom, talking softly in French to her.

You lock your phone. The driver tells you to connect to the aux via Bluetooth and you freeze up with anxiety. But when you start with a Fleetwood Mac song Charles is mouthing the words silently as he texts someone so you relax.

Because of traffic, it takes you forty minutes to get to this restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. Charles opens your door for you.

Entering, the maître d’ is an elderly woman and she hugs Charles so tight. You stand there behind him and she comes to hug you too. She seats you two far away from the door after he asks.

“I think you should get pasta. It’s unreal here.” He says, after you’ve both ordered water.

You smile. “What are you eating?”

“Probably just a chicken salad. Have to stay in order for tomorrow,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not eating pasta if you have to eat a salad. That’s sad.”

You then bicker for ten minutes until the woman - Gilda - comes back. You make him order first - a chicken Parmesan salad - and then order the same and he shoots you a look (he thought he convinced you to order the pasta).

🍷🍝📷💋

After supper you leave in the drizzle, and he takes your arm and loops it through his. His arm is so warm, and you end up leaning your head against the beginning of his shoulder as you stand against the wall, waiting for the driver again.

He turns his head to say something to you, then stares at you for a second. He then leans down to whisper something in your ear and you giggle and then he’s moved to face you properly.

You’re anxiously biting your lip because he’s looking at you like you hang the stars in the sky and you feel terribly awkward and then he leans down and kisses you and he tastes like Parmesan so you laugh in the kiss.

You feel his body shake with laughter beneath your touch and his body is warm even in the drizzle. And when you kiss his lips make your whole body fire up. And his hand is gripping your waist through his mother’s coat and his other hand is running through your slowly dampening hair and he groans and you’re electric.

You pull away when the driver drives up, flushed and awfully happy. His cheeks are pink and his eyes soft.

“Get in the car,” he murmurs softly, and when he opens the door he slides on to the backseat behind you and wraps a hand around your shoulder and everything feels perfect.

back from hibernation. hope you enjoyed!!!!

here’s my masterlist

[jsprnt]

it’s difficult to communicate with a cute boy when you don’t speak each other’s language fluently

arda güler x jude’s younger sister

A/N: missed writing so much! based on this request, thank you babes! ❤️ (physical features are not specified!)

W/C: 1.574

"I'm outside, hurry up.."

you scream at your incredibly slow older brother through the phone. squinting as the july sun beams through your windshield, into your eyes.

"you're so impatient, you guys-" your brother huffs, his voice low and hushed.

"I'm not the impatient one! mister jobe over here, just ate an entire bag of sweet-and-salty popcorn in one sitting!"

you turn you head, giving jobe a nasty look, in turn, receiving a jab from your irish twin.

"stop! we got it to share!" you shout, rubbing your arm.

"now he's hitting me, come on, or I'll kick him out of the car!"

You scream, fighting back the urge to open the passenger door and kick your brother out to the curb.

"I'll be there in five, behave.."

"It's never just five minutes with you, and I'm not a dog, so I won't 'behave'-"

before you can end your sentence, your older brother hangs up on you. leaving you speechless as jobe snorts at you.

"fuckin' rude ass.."

you mumble, leaning back into your car seat.

"here, sis.." he suddenly says, nice enough, tipping the bag of popcorn just enough for you to see the contents.

it's not much, but it is something..

"thanks.." you reply, sticking your hand into the bag, and retrieving the sweet-and-salty goodness, popping the crunchy snack into your mouth.

five minutes turn into ten, and before you know it, it's been over half an hour.

"look! finally.."

you look up from your phone when jobe suddenly speaks. sighing in relief when you spot jude walking out of the real madrid training center.

"Is he alone?" you squint, moving your head to see.

"he's with brahim, and arda.."

you perk up at the names, immediately following his gaze to the three guys, all carrying their toiletry bags. indicating they'd just finished training.

the second name uttered by your brother, had your heart stuttering instantly. you try to hide the smile creeping up to your face, and pretend like you're still pissed at your older brother for being- extra late.

though, seeing the boy you've been crushing on for a couple months, next to him- maybe, just maybe you'll forgive jude for being so late.

you clear your throat, trying to act like seeing arda hadn't thrown you off a bit, and roll your window down as jude walks over to you.

"you're late.." you mutter, trying to scold your older brother, very discreetly.

you squeal when his hand comes up your face, his palm stretched over your face to shut you up.

"and I'm paying dinner, again, so shush.." he mutters, pulling his hand back when you slap his arm.

"paying for food is your duty as an older brother. it's not like you earn money to buy things for yourself.." you bite, smiling when jobe chimes in.

"yeah, big bro- she has a point.."

you grin at your big brother's expression, though your face falls when he starts talking to his teammates.

your eyes flicker to arda, noticing he'd gotten his hair cut since the last time you saw him.

you had been crushing on him since the day you two met, when you picked up jude after one of his spanish classes, and drove arda home too. out of the kindness of your licenseless-older-brother's heart.

arda didn't even speak that much english, nor did you speak any turkish.

spanish wasn't totally out of the question for the both of you, since you both were learning the language after moving there.

safe to say, you knew the guys communicated in a strange mix of spanish and mostly english. whatever was understood, went.

"can the guys join us?" jude suddenly says, breaking you out of your trance.

"you're paying, so I won't object.." jobe says, leaning back into his seat, and pulling his seatbelt on.

"sure, why not?"

not even twenty minutes pass, and your already parking your little volkswagen polo into the parking lot of the restaurant.

'a perfect first car for my daughter, especially in a new country..' your dad had beamed at the spanish dealership. shaking the dealer’s hand like he'd just bought a brand-new mercedes.

the ride to the unfamiliar restaurant is less awkward than you'd imagined, with two of your older brother's friends in the backseat. mainly lively due to your, suddenly very talkative brothers.

"we're here.." you speak, killing the engine and collecting your handbag.

your eyes dart to the building, and back to your outfit.

you'd never been before, and could only arrive correctly due to jude screaming a couple of directions in between his gossip session.

you sigh to yourself, your pretty summer dress was definitely better than the basic tee and sweatpants worn by the guys.

turning, you reach over to open your door, gasping when the door is opened by someone else.

you look up, making eye contact with a certain age mate of yours. you smile up at him, like it's on instinct, getting out of the car as he holds the door open for you.

"thank you, arda.." you speak, trying to hide the nervous tremble in your voice.

there was something about that smile that made you want to cheese over him all the time. and his brown hair, which looked golden in the sunlight, or the language barrier that made it extra difficult to get closer to him.

but, if your older brother could do it, you could too..

"have you been here before? to this restaurant?" you ask, eyes expressive as you watch him close your car door once you've stepped out.

"yes, two times.." he answers in his thick turkish accent, making eye contact with you.

"was it good?" you continue, eyes flickering to your brothers and brahim already walking into the restaurant.

noticing, you both speed up your pace, your handbag dangling from your hand, and in between you both.

"very good, delicious.."

you chuckle at the movements he makes to express himself, finding it absolutely adorable to his already sweet personality.

"that's good. I trust your taste.."

your words earn an awkward grin back, and you clear your throat. holding yourself back from completely crossing the line.

"you're insanely slow today.."

you hold back a surprised gasp when jobe grabs onto your hand, unaware of your moment with arda. your brother drags you towards a reserved table, and you sigh in reluctance before plastering a smile on your face and greeting the hostess.

the next couple minutes are filled with laughter and chatter, you glance across the table often. conveniently sitting across from arda. you notice the quick glances he takes, and grin to yourself.

taking a second bite of pasta, you look at your bothers. sneaking a bite of jobe's food when he's not looking.

you freeze when you hear a lone chuckle, looking up with red sauced lips to make eye contact with a smiley arda.

he quirks up a brow, looking down at his pizza, before sliding the plate closer to you.

"share?" he suggests with a smile, making you nod eagerly.

"deal.." you say, sliding your plate closer to him. before snatching a slice of the pizza.

"delicious..." you mutter, covering your mouth when you chew down on the cheesy goodness.

arda nods back excitedly, glancing at you with the most tender look in his eyes.

you gulp your food down with an ice-cold lemonade, watching as arda tries your pasta.

"very good.." he finally says, looking at you with a thumb pointing up. giving you the universal sign for 'good/okay'.

though, your cute food tasting moment is interrupted by jobe pricking his fork into your pasta, ruining the mood.

"can I have a breadstick?" he mutters, mouth full.

"I thought you said that you had a new diet for next season?"

"it's a breadstick. come on, sis.."

"okay- you're making it sound like I'm restricting you. eat all you want, damn.." you mutter, chuckling when you make eye contact with arda.

"you want one?" you ask, holding the breadbasket out.

"no, thank you.." you hear him say, before you're distracted by the rest of your food.

later, when dessert is ordered, and you're staring at your empty plate of food when it's being taken away, your phone pings.

you look up, unlocking your phone quickly before reading a pop up message.

'receive a note from 'arda's iphone'?'

you look up at him, quirking up a brow at the smiling boy.

you accept quickly, eyes scanning the message.

'you me, dinner again? I will study english for you.'

you almost lose your composure at the phone number underneath the sweet message, your face and body heating up.

your eyes lock, and you try to nod as discreetly as possible.

you save the number quickly, sending him a message, and watch his phone screen light up.

you grin to yourself, both of you sneaking glances at each other.

flustered enough, to not notice the look both your brothers and brahim are sending you two.

your older brother is protective as ever, though confused about what he should worry about.

arda was a good kid, and there was no way in hell he could give him the 'older brother talk' in your stead. 

"your dessert, miss..”

you tune out the waiter, mind drifting to the message arda sent. 

cute, you think.

what should you wear on your first date with him?

[rubiehart]

when leopard!reader realises what a mess the twinkie is, she decides to give it a little spritz-up.

she runs a black acrylic tipped finger along the bumper of the twinkie, a streak of colour trailing through the dull coat of dirt that had built up as she grimaces, the van swaying as the rest of the gang hop out of the rustbucket. she wipes the grub on her denim shorts casually and turns towards him.

“jesus, john b. when was the last time you cleaned this?” she calls to him, hand shielding her eyes as she squints towards the sun, watching as john b and jj continue towards the chateau, stomping the dead grass as kie and pope follow not too far behind.

“ew.” kie comments off handedly, face scrunching up in disgust as she notices the state of it. “uh, few months back?” john b calls back nonchalantly, ignoring jj’s comment of “dude, more like a ‘few years’.”

“haven’t had time to get ‘round to it yet.” he shrugs, spinning back around and traipsing up the wooden steps with the two other pogue boys on his trail. she rolls her eyes, plan already forming in her head as she slings her backpack over her shoulder and jogs to catch up with kie.

half an hour or so later, the boys are lounging on the porch with some beers, the early evening sunset casting a comfortable and calm energy over the group, so mellow they hadn’t even really noticed the absence of the girls until now.

the sloshing of water and grunts of struggle are heard before they’re seen, emerging from around the back of the chateau with buckets filled with water, adorned in the tiniest bikini the boys had possibly ever seen.

“this is gonna be a job n’ a half.” she sighs, panting as she places two heavy books on the ground next to the van, kie nodding along with her? hands on her hips as she catches her breath.

“oh my god john b, how do you even let it get this bad?” kie mumbles as she unravels the hose from the tap at the side of the house, both girls not picking up on all three boys stunned expressions.

“what’s goin’ on here?” john b drawls with a lazy smirk, eyes shamelessly trained on the both of them as the other two ogle in silence.

“what’s it look like, douchebag?” she sighs, grabbing the hose from kie and beginning to hose down the roof as kie goes for the sponges and soap.

“looks like you’re washing the twinkie.” pope answers for you dumbly, eyes wide and cheeks noticeably flushed as he stares straight ahead at the van. both of your eyebrows furrow in confusion but neither of you comment, focusing on sudding up the sponges in your grip.

jj chuckles dryly, taking a long swig of his beer, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands behind head. “sit back and enjoy the show, bro.” he grins, giving pope a brotherly pat on the shoulder, a silent plea to get him to ease up a little, eyes still ogling your ass as you scrub at a particularly stubborn spot.

“see the shit we do for you, john b?” you sigh, walking around to the bonnet as you dip your sponge into the bucket of water, tits almost spilling out of the thin material as you scrub at the volkswagen symbol until you can see your face in it.

“actively seein’ it.” he nods flirting, causing you to look at him with a sideways smirk, flipping all three boys off collectively when jj playfully lets out a low whistle. “you’re such pervs.” kie sighs, crouched down as she scrubs at the metal above the wheels, eyes flicking from your smooth thighs to the van.

of course you knew they were loving it, but you loved the chase, even if you’d never admit it. so of course you continued, noticing ever little look from kiara, every time jj adjusted the way he was sitting, every time pope cleared his throat nervously, and every time you caught john b shamelessly ogling when he thought you weren’t looking.

so, yeah. sudding up your tits and shaking your body a little exaggeratedly to get a rise out of them wasn’t exactly accidental. after all, little teasing never hurt nobody.

[fangirl-dot-com]

The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.” 

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point. 

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that? 

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there. 

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were. 

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better. 

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars. 

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots. 

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left. 

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door. 

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories. 

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you. 

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.” 

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation. 

“What do you plan to do with it?” 

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.” 

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.” 

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder. 

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you. 

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.” 

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?” 

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.” 

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room. 

“Kid!” 

“Seb?” 

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were. 

And they brought an assistant with them. 

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you. 

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!” 

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you. 

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.” 

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room. 

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you. 

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.” 

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.” 

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you. 

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head. 

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?” 

Another shake as a mouth dropped. 

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?” 

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.” 

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman. 

“House?” 

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him. 

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?” 

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.” 

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming. 

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.” 

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy. 

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max. 

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could. 

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper. 

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him. 

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?) 

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder. 

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.” 

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house. 

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you. 

“Kid?” 

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.” 

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you. 

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”) 

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms. 

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.” 

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage. 

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?” 

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop. 

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly. 

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next. 

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again. 

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.” 

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car. 

“What kind of car is that?” 

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession. 

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.) 

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.” 

Max looked down at the hyper car. 

“What that a V12?” 

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.” 

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.” 

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it. 

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him. 

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost. 

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.” 

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it. 

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier. 

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.” 

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.  

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.” 

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?” 

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink. 

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink. 

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!” 

“And the track?” 

“You have a track!?” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

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-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader Part 1

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid.

"And we here at Audi on our debut into Formula One are happy to announce our line up for this year. We have taken on Alexander Albon, and a new driver from the last F2 season to keep the youth of the grid, Y/N Y/L/N, the first female Formula One driver of the century" Andreas Seidl announces and cameras flash all around the press conference.

"So Alex is moving from Williams to an Audi, after not having a great seasons from 2021 in his reserve roll in Red Bull to him moving down as a Williams driver, why have you put your trust in a driver that hasn't been performing?" the interviewer asked. Andreas shuffles in his seat a little leaning closer to the mic.

"Well Alex's performance in Red Bull were phenomenal especially for a rookie. Unfortunately Red Bull decided to pull their finances into one car and one driver which led to Max over-powering many of his team-mates, which was one of the reasons Ricciardo switched to Renault. We want to give Alex the chance to prove his skills in a well-made car that once on the track will rival the Red Bull, Mercedes and Ferrari's" Andreas says looking towards Christian Horner who didn't look pleased at all.

"It's good to see Albon given the chance, as we saw George Russell improve the minute he joined Lewis Hamilton in Mercedes. There's also talk that there was an offers for Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc what happened there" another question is thrown out.

"We sent offers to anyone we thought would benefit from a contract with us, so Leclerc and Norris were both on that list"

"And you ended up choosing Albon, or were the offers rejected?"

"We chose Alexander before Norris and Leclerc turned the offer down. Norris is out-performing in his McLaren and as part of their young drivers scheme, he wants a win for them before ever moving on if he does. For now he is comfortable there. As far as Leclerc goes, he has dreams in Ferrari that they unfortunately aren't helping him pursue, which we hoped we could. The Volkswagen Group is an open arms family and our relationships with all drivers are ones we hold a lot of respect for" he explains nodding at the man who was asking the questions.

"Obviously Audi have now not only kept up with the youth of the grid but have added the first female since Lella Lombardi. Where did this choice come from, and did the other drivers know before today?" he pushes and Andreas smiles looking over towards you at the back of the room, hidden by your Audi cap.

"Well, she won the last F2 championship and she's a very promising driver, she has a degree that she completed three years ago in Aerodynamic Engineering and has some great opinions on her car and knows it very well. I'm sure her rookie season will be one nobody will want to miss" he smirks and the cameras click for more photos, you could already see the amount of headlines.

Now it was time for your first race of the season. Your first race was Bahrain and you were extremely nervous, you could see the camera on your left filming you as you pulled up the fireproof race suit over your shoulders. The mix of red and white fabric had your sponsors over it, as well as the four rings of your teams logo.

You eventually got into the car rubbing your hands together waiting to be handed the wheel by an crew member. You check that you radio is working with your engineer and give the pit crew a nod.

"Okay lets make this a good lap! Looking to try and get P12 or up" your engineer voices as you as you come out of the pits.

You had a good start, going into turn one slower, wanting to just test the waters. Turn two and three were similar, the car was wider and more powerful than that of an F2 car and even pre-season testing didn't help settle your nerves.

"Need to speed up on this straight to make up the time from the turns, stop overthinking and just drive. We believe in you" you hear your engineer and release a breath that you didn't even realize you were holding. You fly down the straight managing to still keep up quiet the speak into the sharp turn 4.

"Coming into sector 2 now, your currently in a predicted 14th place so we really need to catch up in Sector 2" he explains again.

You speed round the turns up until the hairpin on 8, breaking later and managing to overtake Russell who was slightly ahead of you on the track.

"Nice Y/N, you've got Lawson and Ocon ahead of you, if you can catch up to them you'll be in the top 10. Lets get you flat out on that straight in sector 3 yeah?"

As you get through the second hairpin with a little skidding from your misjudgment and managed to make up for time in turns 11,12 and 13 before putting your foot down so you sailed down the straight.

After another go you were called back to the pits.

"Well done, you got P9. That's amazing for your first drive"

"What position was Alex in?" you ask, hoping your team mate was getting on well in his new car.

"He was P4, Hamilton, Leclerc and Perez all infront of him, Verstappen P5 along with Norris, Piastri and Alonso just a few seconds ahead of your time. Wonderful driving" he says as you pull into the pit. You jump out the car, looking to see who was now out and didn't make it into Q2.

"Well done Y/N, you did do well! P9 is crazy!" Alex said rushing up to you pulling you into a teammate hug.

"Let's go get a drink, you wanna go toilet?" Zahara one of the crew asks. I nodded immediately realizing how i hadn't gone to the toilet before hand.

Q2 went a little worse, you crawled in P11, not making it into Q3. You'd made the typical rookie mistakes which is what angered you the most. You slapped you hands onto your halo in annoyance as your engineer tried to explain that P11 was amazing for a rookie, and if you had a good pace tomorrow you'd be able to get within the top 10.

You watched Alex compete for his position headphones on and seeing his overtake Norris who was currently in P5.

Eventually tomorrows start was set, Leclerc P1, Hamilton P2, Perez P3, Sainz P4, Alex P5, Verstappen P6, Norris P7, Russell P8, Piastri P9 and in P10 ahead of you was Alonso, he wouldn't make it easy for you tomorrow.

You hug Alex, congratulating him on a great start to the weekend and a great start to this season. You headed to your drivers room, changing out of your suit and into your Audi shirt and shorts. You head out and get to your R8, a benefit of working for the Audi team.

"Hey, Y/N right?" a voice calls you before you can even open the door to the car. You whirl round, worried it was a fan that had somehow managed to follow you to the carpark. In turn you actually saw the racer who finished in P1 today, Charles Leclerc.

"Oh, hello" you smile nodding you head down awkwardly in greeting.

"I just wanted to let you know, you did well, this wasn't my first race in F1 Australia was but you finished ahead of where i was in 2018, so take this as a win" he smiles placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't even think I'd be here this year, I was shocked when Audi reached out to me. I'm just annoyed at the mistakes i made in Q2, I could have made it to Q3 if I had just ..." you admitted softly, until he interrupts you.

"You've already had your debrief and you know what you did wrong, move on from it and come back tomorrow and get into the top 10" he smiles at you. He starts to walk away but stops when your hand wraps round his wrist.

"Thank you Charles, i needed to hear that. Congrats on P1 today, see you on the track tomorrow" you smile, letting go of his wrist before jumping into your car. You sighed revving the engine, thinking of the kindness you'd just been shown. You knew that people would probably be looking for you from other teams, as most people were still there but everything was a little overwhelming for you right now.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

VW wouldn't locate kidnapped child because his mother didn't pay for find-my-car subscription

The masked car-thieves who stole a Volkswagen SUV in Lake County, IL didn’t know that there was a two-year-old child in the back seat — but that’s no excuse. A violent car-theft has the potential to hurt or kill people, after all.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/28/kinderwagen/#worst-timeline

Likewise, the VW execs who decided to nonconsensually track the location of every driver and sell that data to shady brokers — but to deny car owners access to that data unless they paid for a “find my car” subscription — didn’t foresee that their cheap, bumbling subcontractors would refuse the local sheriff’s pleas to locate the car with the kidnapped toddler.

And yet, here we are. Like most (all?) major car makers, Volkswagen has filled its vehicles with surveillance gear, and has a hot side-hustle as a funnel for the data-brokerage industry.

After the masked man jumped out of a stolen BMW and leapt into the VW SUV to steal it, the child’s mother — who had been occupied bringing her other child inside her home — tried to save her two year old, who was still in the back seat. The thief “battered” her and drove off. She called 911.

The local sheriff called Volkswagen and begged them to track the car. VW refused, citing the fact that the mother had not paid for the $150 find-my-car subscription after the free trial period expired. Eventually, VW relented and called back with the location data — but not until after the stolen car had been found and the child had been retrieved.

Now that this idiotic story is in the news, VW is appropriately contrite. An anonymous company spokesman blamed the incident on “a serious breach” of company policy and threw their subcontractor under the (micro)bus, blaming it on them.

This is truly the worst of all worlds: Volkswagen is a company that has internal capacity to build innovative IT systems. Once upon a time, they had the in-house tech talent to build the “cheat device” behind Dieselgate, the means by which they turned millions of diesel vehicles into rolling gas-chambers, emitting lethal quantities of NOX.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volkswagen_emissions_scandal

But on the other hand, VW doesn’t have the internal capacity to operate Car-Net, it’s unimaginatively-named, $150/year location surveillance system. That gets subbed out to a contractor who can’t be relied on to locate a literal kidnapped child.

The IT adventures that car companies get up to give farce a bad name. Ferraris have “anti-tampering” kill-switches that immobilize cars if they suspect a third-party mechanic is working on them. When one of these tripped during a child-seat installation in an underground parking garage, the $500k car locked its transmission and refused to unlock it — and the car was so far underground that its cellular modem couldn’t receive the unlock code, permanently stranding it:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/15/expect-the-unexpected/#drm

BMW, meanwhile, is eagerly building out “innovations” like subscription steering-wheel heaters:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers

Big Car has loaded our rides up with so much surveillance gear that they were able to run scare ads opposing Massachusetts’s Right to Repair ballot initiative, warning Bay Staters that if third parties could access the data in their cars, it would lead to their literal murders:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

In short: the automotive sector has filled our cars with surveillance gear, but that data is only reliably available to commercial data-brokers and hackers who breach Big Cars’ massive data repositories. Big Car has the IT capacity to fill our cars with cheat devices — but not the capacity to operate an efficient surveillance system to use in real emergencies. Big Car says that giving you control over your car will result in your murder — but when a child’s life is on the line, they can’t give you access to your own car’s location.

This Thu (Mar 2) I’ll be in Brussels for Antitrust, Regulation and the Political Economy, along with a who’s-who of European and US trustbusters. It’s livestreamed, and both in-person and virtual attendance are free. On Fri (Mar 3), I’ll be in Graz for the Elevate Festival.

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

 — 

Upsilon Andromedae (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/upsand/212946929/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[Image ID: A blue vintage VW beetle speeds down a highway; a crying baby is pressed against the back driver's-side window. In the sky overhead is the red glaring eye of HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey, emblazoned with the VW logo. The eye is projecting a beam of red light that has enveloped the car.]