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Youâre the clever one, arenât you?
on snapchat. x
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Jet black heart.
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WHY HAVE I NEVER SEEN THIS ON TUMBLR -Â I FEEL LIKE THIS ISSUE NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED.
I FEEL LIKE I HAVE BEEN DENIED A GREAT HONOR.
taken from emojipedia
a sweet baby, wants to be friends. trying their best.
a blue boi !!!! hes really friendly but knocks things over a lot. i love him.
wow there he is !!!!! he sure walks!!! o boy hes doin fine !!!!!!
very loving and gentle, just a baby. needs to escape where she lives.
his name is bob and heâs a father of three. i love him and support him.
oh man!!!!! shes a little on the wild side, even though she looks a lil plain. she might steal ur water with her beautiful trunk!!!!
a noble elephant!!! they protect their family and yours. likes to pose.
awwww. she;s a little shy and doesnt think shes all that much but!!! shes so good!! she loves her friends! :â)))
a small boy, still a baby! really wants to be a firefighter and has to be told not to spray things with water sometimes. he likes to help ppl!
this guy may look pure, but theyre a little mischievous! they like apples.Â
another blue !!! this guys on the older side, but he still tries to take care of his friends and family. loves babies. i trust him 100%.
MasterList
F1 Masterlist
Request: George Russell x Reader The Reader is a model and they meet at a fashion show and become the fashion couple of the grid.Â
The backstage chaos of a fashion show is a unique kind of madness stylists with scissors in their mouths, interns sprinting in heels, and makeup artists dabbing last-minute gloss on lips already trembling with nerves. I was used to it. I'd walked a dozen runways, been shot by the best, and worn gowns stitched in silence by names no one dared mispronounce.
But I wasnât prepared for him.
George Russell, of all people, standing backstage in a perfectly tailored suit like heâd walked straight out of a GQ cover shoot which, to be fair, he probably had. He was chatting to someone from the design house, all polite smiles and blue-eyed charm. And then he looked at me.
Not just looked. He noticed.
I tried to play it cool. Adjusted the strap on my heel and glanced away like I hadnât just felt my stomach flip.
âYouâre Y/N, arenât you?â he asked a few minutes later, after Iâd strutted down the runway in a sleek black number that hugged all the right places. He was waiting by the refreshment table, holding a sparkling water and looking annoyingly relaxed for someone causing minor havoc in my chest.
âI am,â I said, reaching for a bottle myself. âAnd youâre George Russell. The driver with the perfect posture.â
He laughed, a proper, belly-deep one. âIâll take that. Though Iâve been told I look more like a mannequin than a man sometimes.â
âWell,â I said with a smirk, âyouâre in the right place, then.â
That was how it started. A shared joke, a quiet moment among flashing lights and fabric. The next week, he invited me to a Grand Prix. I wore red. Ferrari red, despite him being a Mercedes man. He teased me about it the whole day.
Before long, the press had latched onto us. F1âs Fashion Couple. We became the unexpected duo that people didnât know they needed me in couture, him in sharp suits that made headlines. We werenât just walking red carpets; we were setting trends.
But behind all that, George was just⌠George. Sweet and supportive, always sneaking me chocolate after long fittings, always sending âgood luckâ texts before shoots. I returned the favour with calm pep talks on race weekends and silly superstitions we pretended worked.
Tonight, he was waiting for me after a Paris runway show, holding a single white rose and looking like a dream.
âKnocked âem dead again,â he said, pulling me into a hug that melted every inch of tension from my body.
âYou think so?â
âAbsolutely. They should build a statue in your honour outside the Louvre.â
I laughed, resting my head against his chest. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âOnly for you.â
And just like that, we walked hand-in-hand past flashing cameras, the click of shutters chasing our every step not that we noticed anymore. Because being the fashion couple of the grid wasnât about the headlines or the hype.
It was about him and me. Runways and race tracks. And a love that somehow fit better than any designer gown.
ashton how fucking hard is your drumming oh my god
JUSTIN DREW BIEBER OMG
| IF YOU GUYS DIDNâT SEE JUSTINâS DELETED TWEETS đ¤
Tyler Hoechlin singing LMFAO is something we all need to experience.