Hello! My name is Emily, I'm 20-something (but who's counting), and I have been on Tumblr for way longer than I should admit. I am a writer, a passionate history lover, a dedicated full time [and only kind of delusional] George Russell enthusiast, and an avid defender of both Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri.
♡ GR63, LN4, OP81, AA23, CL16, PG10, MV33, NR6 ♡
♡ GR63 Masterlist | Main F1 Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist ♡
I DO NOT DO PART TWOS UNLESS SPECIFIED IN MY A/N.
Please do not ask for part twos unless it is actually paired with a thoughtful, polite, and genuine comment on my original. Please appreciate the original fic properly before demanding more. I am not a machine.
MY BLOG IS A 'WAG FREE ZONE'. PLEASE RESPECT THIS.
I will not be posting, reblogging, or talking about any current or past partners of the drivers, including answering asks that mention their names.
The only exception are the Lilies. Don't ask questions.
Current WIPs:
The Braking Point [GR63, Single Parent Karting Fic]
Members Only [GR63, Adult Film Star AU (m/m & m/f)]
The Way It Goes 🩵 [GR63, Slice of Life Blurbs]
He's like Sansa Stark who dreamed about King's Landing and who was so loved by her family that she genuinely had no idea how bad it could get once she persuaded her dream
I keep thinking how pissed twig fmc would be at the disrespect her man has to deal with. From his own team no less!
Oooh, I've been thinking about this too!! After Spain, especially, when all of this really picked up in the media/on social media for her to see. I mean, being home with a baby most of the time, she only really gets her news from George himself (plus, she was there for Monaco, so there's that too)
But when he gets home from Spain, he's playing it off really well...like it doesn't bother him. But she is just going off. I have this vision of him standing there in the apartment with her storming around, tidying, whisper-shouting her frustrations at the team [since Laurie is napping down the hall]. George tries to interject with some 'it's okay' 'it doesn't matter' 'it is what it is' but she is not having it.
"It is what it is? No, don't say that shit to me right now. The team not showing up for your 100th race, your podium finish after an incredible weekend and after a tough few weeks, is shitty. That's not 'it is what it is', that's blatant disrespect." as she angrily folds a throw blanket.
George has no real response because, yeah, she's right. And if he thinks about it too much, it does hurt. But he was trying not to think about it so much because he doesn't need an excuse to get distracted, he doesn't want to admit that the team he poured so much into is just tossing him aside. So he says nothing. And he lets her rant. And he listens and he tries to ignore the tightness in his chest.
And finally, "I swear to God, I'm coming with you to Austria next weekend and I'm going to give Toto a piece of my fucking mind. You wanna throw my husband out to the wolves and not hold ownership to your team's fuck ups? Watch me fucking do something about it."
George sighs, "You're not going to fight Toto, love."
"No, because I will."
Sure, she's a trad dramatic and heated with her protective emotions, but it's all coming from a good place and he can't help but smile a little.
"Fully 'Michael Schumacher storming across the pitlane' up in this bitch."
Her saying that finally cracks her firm exterior with a little smirk at her own ridiculousness and George lets out a laugh. And he pulls her into a hug and peppers her cheek in kisses as much as she tries to squirm away to keep her angry edge at the forefront. But she can't stay angry for long in the face of his affections.
George kisses the shell of her ear before whispering right there, "As long as I have you...your support...your unbelievably protective fiery streak...I'll be just fine."
"No, but-"
"I'll be fine."
"I'll talk to them, I'm serious. Just say the word."
"That's not necessary, my love."
"Okay, but I'll be giving them serious angry looks next weekend."
"Okay." George chuckles and buries his face in her neck.
Hi sorry I'm early (because I jump on your notifications) but Mr Saturday lore drop gave me an idea
What if he went live (like webcam live, idk if he does that but let's pretend) and showed his face for the first time !!
Immediately shocked by the wave of donations triggered by the reveal of his beautiful face !!
I LOVEE that omg. I wasn't quite sure how to tackle how he went from anonymous to outwardly showing his face in content and being hosted as a speaker places but this is perfect. This would be the first time he felt truly nervous, I think! So much on the line...suddenly overlapping his real life and identity with such a taboo career.
But the comments on his live when he finally turns on his camera 🤭 got the prettiest smile on his face, the prettiest lil blush. Maybe he's encouraged enough in that live to do a lil live solo show for the audience...and wow now that people can see his expressions when he cums? There's no going back now hehe
I am so curious about “MrSaturday” and his lore and how he came to be in his career 👀🤭
Thank you for sending in a question!! I love love love having a lil chat about my universes and it's nice to know that you guys care just as much too <3
George went to uni for business and through his studies, he realized (like most uni students do) that he needed some sort of job, some sort of income. There was waiting at the campus restaurant or helping out in the library but nothing really appealed to him (or suited his need for flexible hours between studying). In his third year, he met another student in the dorms who was studying photography and she needed a model for one of her projects. She offered to provide him a free lunch if he was willing to be his model. So he accepted.
It was some simple photoshoot in black and white with moody lighting and she even had one of her friends put him in a flowy linen shirt with bell sleeves and topped it off with a bit of eyeliner. George had never debated modeling before, but he was surprised at how much he enjoyed being in front of the camera; of taking on a bit of a creative 'persona' even for just an afternoon. Plus, he was gorgeous and so he found himself on the receiving end of lots of compliments by those who admired the photographs.
So he picked it up some more; offering to be a model for photography students to help them out and only asked for a lunch in exchange. Thanks to his business and marketing degree, he even had put up little ads around campus for his modeling services like a right little professional.
By the end of third year, it felt like the entire photography student body was using him for their projects. There was even a rumour that the photography professors were begging their pupils to pick different models from one another.
It wasn't long until the fine art students caught wind of this guy and by the beginning of George's fourth year, he was paid by the faculty (only pennies, but it was something) to sit as the live model for a few drawing classes. Even as a nude model. Which he surprisingly didn't feel overly embarrassed about, standing in front of a couple dozen art students wearing nothing but his birthday suit. He got some eyes from guys and girls alike but it only seemed to fuel his enjoyment of the job.
Around that time, George saw an ad on the bulletin board in the campus cafe from a real, professional photographer in search for a model. He called the guy up, they had a quick chat, a casual interview, and then by only a snap of his fingers, George found himself hired. He would be paid £400 for an afternoon. A lot for a uni student.
The shoot was...risqué to say the least. George was nude for most of it with only the shiest of props (sheets or books or limbs) covering him, bathed in natural light from the large paned windows of the photographer's home studio. The man was very professional and George was having the time of his life. The camera just ate him up.
The photos were featured in a small art gallery in Norfolk and George went for the opening night in his best suit. Honestly, he was in awe by the shots, how he looked, the emotions captured. He was seeing himself in a whole new light...and feeling nothing but pride when strangers stared at his body and complimented him so genuinely.
A few weeks into fourth year, one of his friends mentioned about selling photos of himself online. He meant it as a joke but George considered it far more seriously. After four years of uni, student debt was wracking up and the do-me-a-favour modeling for students was not paying the bills.
So, George made an account on some well-known website and started with a simple shirtless selfie with his face well hidden. Using his business and marketing studies, prepared his profile the best he could to suit the needs of some hypothetical target audience.
He didn't expect the traction it got. A couple hundred subscribers in a week. And he hadn't even taken his pants off.
For the remainder of uni, he posted a new picture to his subscribers every Saturday; shirtless in bed, after the gym, and sometimes he risked a bit of v-line, a bit of pubic hair, just to gauge the response. And it was always positive. Very positive.
From what he had learned from those photography students over the last two years, he knew how to stage lighting and a composition. There were no grainy, cringey, cheap mirror shots. He was rearranging his lamps and tossing sheets over his laptop screen to diffuse the light and posing properly, always making sure to keep his face out of shot.
He posted his first full nude photo to his couple-thousand subscribers the Saturday after his university graduation. And it just kept coming.
It was staggering, really, how well it was going. He had a consistent income, a reliable audience, and a platform.
George wasn’t ignorant to the ‘bad side’ of the industry but he was determined to do right by it, if this was the path he wished to take. He met with other entrepreneurs and models to gain insight and advice and a better understanding to help boost his own platform.
His solo photos soon progressed into audios which progressed into videos. All written and produced and filmed and edited and posted on his own.
The numbers were climbing, the demand was there. He couldn’t do it all on his own anymore. Eventually, he signed on a manager. Together, they got him onboard with an ethical porn-for-women website; with whom he made his breakthrough as an adult film star.
George learned a lot from the company both on and off camera, incredible insights into the industry and how to create and produce and host guests. Within a year, he parted ways to branch out on his own, to stick to creating his own content for his own audience as he loved the creative freedom that came with the independence.
And he loves the business aspect of it too! Being able to change the narrative over adult film from something taboo into something ethical, if done right. He's worked himself up to being quite a well-known name because of his work in dong just that. Well, also because of his gorgeous body too but... lol
down where it's wetter
Galex, complete, 8k, rated E.
George pinches his nose and sighs. “Alright, so you want what? Him to be a merman?” He leaves as long a pause as he can before the second offering. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. But it’s one of his specialities and Alex knows that. “You to be a human?”
“That one! I want the legs, and the feet and the whole- um. The whole package. With the long bit and the two-”
George wants to die. Alex is cupping a hand in front of his tail like he’s juggling a couple of sea urchins and George wants to die.
(But to be real: there are tentacles. you already know whether or not you're going to read this.)
Many, many thanks to @sorbitoldaddy @onadarklingplain and my beloved @latecomersprivilege for reading this despite me peppering in far too much octopus anatomy. Also spiritually this is in honour of the @f1-pussy-curse-fest, I just couldn't wait until October.
Also sometimes the purpose of a sex scene is to be titillating and that's, like, fine. You wouldn't go out there and argue that movies shouldn't have jokes unless they "serve a narrative purpose" because you understand that generally the purpose of a joke is to make the audience laugh and perhaps release some tension. Being horny is a normal human emotion like being amused or being scared and sometimes media is trying to evoke that particular emotion; the artist doesn't owe you a 30-page double-spaced justification for trying to make you feel something through their art. Your separation of horniness and sex from other emotions and experiences is sex negative and deeply ingrained in cultural conservatism.
I think if Formula One and Disney want to make the most out of being the capitalist collaboration of the century then we need to make the drivers shoot PR at Disney World.
