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hii just wanted to pop in and ask how are youu 🥺 you havent posted here in a while

omg hi yes !! so so so sorry for my absence, life's just been a bit hectic and i haven't felt any motivation to write/post on here (partially bc ive been getting a lot more into non football/f1 interests and don't want to bore y'all with them) but this was so sweet of u 😭im ok im alright dwdw - i didn't want to make like a hiatus post bc i don't know when I'll be posting again but just know i still love y'all and i'm just .... yeah im still here! i still lurk!!!

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I SAW YHE VIDEO OF FRANCO WITH THE CHRISTMAS CARDS AND IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF YOUU HAHAHAH

IM SHOCKED SO MANY PPL THOUGHT OF MY FIC HAHAHAA BUT I FEEL HONOUREDDDD

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PLEASE tell me you’ve seen williams’ new tik tok?

(assuming ur talking abt the franco one of him recreating the love actually scene) YES I DID HAHAHA I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT

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also due to me losing all possible motivation to even post on here I'll probably be closing my 1k event a little earlier than i had planned - maybe in a weeks time or so? or at least once i finish all the moodboard reqs in my inbox so in that time if you have any ideas for the last three songs (see them here) !!! pls send them thru <333

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to be loved is to be seen.

the little things that the blue lock men do for you as their way of saying, "i love you." featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku 𝜗𝜚 content: fluff

note. spreading down bad bllk men agenda 🫦 finals is this week, so that means i will not be able to write at all for 3-4 days, so i just wanted to pop this out rlly quickly (event fics will be written as soon as i wrap up this sem, PROMISE)

itoshi rin picks out the things you don't like in your food.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but rin has a folder in his notes app about you— things you like, things you dislike, and every little thing you’ve mentioned to him in passing. he wants to know every little detail about you, to write it down and memorize it until the knowledge becomes stuck in the back of his head. to the point that it becomes like common sense to him (if there were ever a pop quiz on facts about you, he would pass with flying colors.) at the end of every date, or every time he hangs out with you, he’ll update his notes with another little thing he’d learned. you will never catch him admitting it out loud, but it definitely shows in how he treats you.

there is one thing he’d memorized about you, by now, though. it’s written in bold, italicized, and underlined in his notes: you hate mushrooms. 

rin catches himself looking at the ingredients of certain meals whenever the two of you would eat at a new restaurant, or order food from an unfamiliar place. it’s not that he’s necessarily a picky eater because, frankly, he really doesn’t care. but he wants you to enjoy it, he wants you to be able to eat without stressing about having to pick it out. his eyes are always scanning through the print, actively checking if mushrooms are one of the ingredients listed. 

but, there are times when the ingredients aren’t listed, and there are times when you end up ordering something with mushrooms in it. 

he may be dense in certain aspects, but it’s hard for him to miss the disappointed look on your face. the way your expression falls ever so slightly, and your smile falters for half a second. before you could dig in, before you could even put yourself through five minutes of digging through the food— he’s swiftly grabbing it from you. 

truthfully, he does it without thinking. he’s acting on his thoughts before he could even process what he’s doing. rin tries to fight the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks, the way the heat crawls up his neck and to his face at the realization of what he’d done, and he fails. but he’s committed to the act now, and he’s not going to give it back to you until he’s done what he needed to do.

he tries to ignore the somewhat perplexed look on your face, and the way you watch him closely as his fingers make quick work of moving the mushrooms from your plate to his. (he tries to sneak in some of your favorite food from his plate to yours, but he’s not slick, and you definitely notice.)

“here,” he says, pushing the plate closer to you after a few minutes. “you can eat it now.”

he sees you glance at the plate, and then back up at him— he looks away as you beam at him with a grateful smile, trying to ignore his ever-increasing heart rate. 

itoshi sae remembers the small details about your routine.

it is almost guaranteed that sae will wake up before you do. his alarm is set to go off at the crack of dawn, right as the sun starts to peek through the horizon, and he's starting his day while you're still in deep sleep. there’s a set routine that he follows, to a tee: wake up (and then contemplate staying in bed, just to cuddle with you a little longer), stretch, do morning yoga, and then go on a jog. it’s something he’d been doing for years, and he has never gone out of his way to add anything new to his routine— that is, until one morning. 

at first, it started with a random thought. as he was getting ready to leave the house, to go for his morning jog, he had unsystematically decided to set out your favorite mug and go-to morning snack. 

sae didn’t think it would be that significant to you, and he, initially, had no plans of doing it again. he simply had extra time to spare, and he knew that making your morning drink was always the first part to your routine, so he decided to get the first step out of the way for you.

truly, he wasn’t planning to make a habit out of this. but then, you told him, “that was a sweet way to start off my morning,” with that sleepy, morning smile of yours. he tries to not pay attention to the way his heart softens at the sight, and the realization that that had made him happy. yet now, he does it every time.

from then on, his alarm was always set to go off two minutes earlier. it’s rewarding, in his opinion, to come home to you— sitting at the dining table, messy hair and still in your pajamas, eyes half-lidded from sleep, with a smile on your face as you take a sip from the mug. and then you greet him with a thank you and a kiss, without fail, even when he tries to lightly guide you away because he’s sweaty.

it never works, because he folds the second you tell him, “g’morning. i missed you.” and he finds himself adding another part to his schedule. 

before sae’s even aware of it, much of his daily habits had been molded to fit with yours. 

on days where he’s far from home, in another country, he finds that his morning just never feels right without you. it feels weird not having to set out your favorite mug, and it feels even weirder not having you there to smother him in kisses. his routine had always determined his mood, and without you, he’s extra sour. 

��i miss you,” he ends up texting you. (that, too, becomes part of his routine when he’s far from you.)

michael kaiser has all your subtle behaviors memorized.

if kaiser were to be asked to name one annoying habit of yours, it would be the fact that you, sometimes, say things that contradict how you truly feel. he calls you pesky, he tells you that he’ll take your word for it and not read too deeply into whatever you’re saying— but, in a way, he’s contradicting himself too by saying that. he’ll always read into it; he’ll always analyze you, gaze narrowed, and watching for every subtle sign in your body language. he knows you, all too well. 

but there’s one thing you always say, one contradictory statement that you always make, that he’d memorized at this point. “it’s okay, i’m not cold,” even when you visibly are.

it irks him to no end. he doesn’t understand why you would say that even when there are goosebumps scattered all over your skin, when you have your arms wrapped around yourself, and you’re visibly trembling. he can practically see the bones under your skin, rattling, making some comical, cartoony noise in his head. you know that he can see you, and yet, you still lie to him.

and, at times, he does this on purpose— he puts the air conditioning in the car on full blast, all vents pointed at you, just to see how far you’re willing to go. and every time, it’s always the same, with the same answer.

kaiser isn’t completely cruel, however. he’s tucked one of his spare hoodies (your favorite, actually) into the backseat, existing purely for your use. first, he’ll scoff at you, roll his eyes, and let you suffer for a few more minutes. but eventually, the guilt will catch up to him, and he’ll constantly be glancing at you through his periphery, shaking and looking absolutely miserable in your seat.

he’ll think to himself for a second, as if contemplating whether he’ll actually help you out (he always does, he does not want you to actually suffer). and then, he’ll internally sigh, before speaking up. “stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “i have a spare hoodie in the back, take it.”

it’s almost laughable, the way you quickly turn your body around to reach for the backseat, visibly seeking warmth. he sees the look of pure joy in your eyes when you realize that it’s your favorite, and he smiles to himself.

“you’re the best,” you always tell him, as you pull the fabric over your head, and he's content. 

he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t reprimand you— he lets you do this, every single time.

oliver aiku is always willing to listen to you ramble.

it doesn’t matter if aiku’s had an exceptionally long day, it doesn’t matter if he feels as if he’s on the verge of succumbing to sleep— he will always make time for you. he will never pass up a chance to call you, to listen to you talk about whatever you want, whenever you want. you could talk for hours, going on and on about something that he doesn’t quite understand, and not a single complaint will slip past his lips. then again, he thinks to himself, why would he complain? hearing your voice is the best part of any day, good or bad. and every night, he finds himself waiting by his phone, waiting for your contact to appear on his screen.

he finds no shame at the speed in which he accepts your call, which is immediately, nor does he try to mask the anticipation in his voice.

and if he were to look into a mirror at that exact moment, he would also see the lovesick smile that had started to tug on the corners of his lips. you can’t see him, but he’s sure you can hear it in his voice. the way it softens, the way it loses its rough edges and lightens up ever so slightly, when he greets you. you probably know he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. (he doesn’t think he is, but when it comes to you, he’s completely transparent.)

it doesn’t take long before you’re divulging into another one of your endless tangents. but aiku’s attention remains undivided, only for you. he sits on the other side of the phone, silently, only responding when you want him to. it doesn’t matter if his own thoughts are clouded with exhaustion, his mind racing with the weight of the day—when you call, everything else fades into nothingness.

“did you know that venus is an evening star for 263 days out of the year?” he can hear the excitement in your voice, he can practically see the sparkle in your eyes, even without seeing you. it’s been three hours, and he’s sure that he should’ve been in bed one hour ago. but you’re still as energetic as ever, so he fights the way his body craves for sleep. he locks his jaw, and bites back a yawn, and listens. “and then, the fact that it disappears from the sky for 50 days, before returning as a morning star?”

there’s silence on your end, and aiku takes that as his cue to talk. “no,” he responds, and there’s an amused lilt in his tone. “i didn’t, actually. you should tell me more.” and you do. 

one look at the clock to his side tells him that, at this point, he won’t be getting enough sleep. he’s sure he’s going to be exhausted when he wakes up in the morning— though, he doesn’t really care, and he’s sure he won’t regret it. he’ll let you ramble about the stars for as long as you want, even when the stars themselves start to fade into the morning sky. 

© rindreamery, 2024

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ok ykw idc that this theme is mostly football / formula one themed ... im gonna retweet anime stuff if i feel like it because this is MY BLOG.

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CHAT. AM I DREAMING.

Heyyyy, I'd like to request mistletoe for franco colapinto please<3

- so it'd be based on the doorstep/cue cards scene from the movie love actually (which goes so well w the xmas theme🤭) when mark shows up at juliet's door w several signs to declare his love ("to me you are perfect | and my wasted heart will love you | until you look like this | [insert ugly pic]")

BUT i need it to be happy and not angsty please😭 bc in the movie, mark's love is unrequited (juliet married his best friend)

Thank you sm if you end up writing this, I've been loving your fics since you appeared on my feed🫶🏻🫶🏻

say it's carol singers ⟡ ݁₊ . - franco colapinto

w/c: 800 a/n: arghdfjghdbf i'm so sorry this took me FOREVER to get to it's just that i got massive writers block half way through - but thank you !! i hope u like it <333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

"I'll get it!"

At the sound of a doorbell, you jump up from the couch where you and your roommate had spent the entirety of your day. Finally free from the worries of final exams and with Christmas rolling around, binge-watching cheesy romcoms had seemed like the perfect way to kill time.

As you reached for the doorknob, your mind ran through the possibilities of who could be behind it - maybe your neighbours asking if you wanted their leftover gingerbread or a delivery guy with the pizza you had just placed an order for. What you hadn't been expecting was to be met with a boyishly handsome face you knew all too well, a stack of poster-size cards and a radio.

"Oh, hi," you let out, trying to hide your surprise.

"Who is it?" your roommate's voice calls out, and you're about to answer before Franco hurriedly pulls a finger to his lips to stop you. Confused, you watch as he swings the stack of cards around to reveal a message.

"Say it's carol singers."

Intrigued, you oblige. "It's carol singers!"

"Oh, whatever," your roommate laughs, resuming her movie, though your feet stay in place. He bends over, setting down the radio and hitting play, and soon a floaty version of 'Silent Night' begins playing. You furrow your brows in confusion, but he doesn't say a word, instead flipping over the top card to reveal more words.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while."

'A while' is an understatement, considering that you haven't even seen each other in over a month - or however long it had been since you had ended an almost year-long relationship with one of Franco's closest friends.

After that, it seemed like there was no reason for the two of you to talk anymore, even if you had gotten to know each other rather well. Mostly because it had been just that fact that had catalysed the sudden end of your relationship - your boyfriend unhappy with how close you had gotten to Franco, and yourself growing more weary of just what that closeness might mean.

Through it all though, you had tried your best to keep Franco unaware of his involvement in the end of your relationship, and to this day he still didn't know a thing.

"And maybe this a bit weird, considering the terms we ended on."

Or so you thought.

You watch as he continues to flip through the large cards he's holding, eyes darting up to meet his every time he reveals a new message. It's strange, the fact that you're not even stopping to realise how ridiculous this situation is - that he's here, holding handwritten cards and leafing through them instead of just talking to you like a normal person.

"But just because it's Christmas - and at Christmas you tell the truth."

But the earnest look he keeps on giving you convinces you that maybe saying these things out loud may not be the easiest thing for him, and so you continue reading.

"To me, you are perfect."

The realisation hits you as you silently mouth the words he's written.

"And my wasted heart will go on loving you, forever."

You don't know what urges you to do it, but you're stepping out through your doorway, your arms reaching to grasp either side of his face - pulling his lips to crash into yours. He's just as surprised as you are, but you hear him drop the cards onto your doorstep, freeing his hands to wrap around your waist.

When you finally part, you're almost breathless, face flushed with shock and a sudden embarrassment.

"I thought that," Franco's just as out of breath as you are, "I thought you-"

"So much for a wasted heart," you laugh, tucking a couple stray strands of hair behind his ear.

"So you-" It's almost as if the shock of the situation is making him unable to finish his sentences.

"Yes, Franco, for ages."

"Oh, thank god, I was really nervous about coming here and making an idiot of myself."

"Where did you even get the idea from?"

"Saw it in a movie," he admits sheepishly before letting out a soft relieved laugh which is music to your ears. Even more so than the crackly carol that streams through his radio, which you've accidentally kicked down a step.

He lets go of your waist momentarily to pick it up, stop the recording, and gather the cards he's dropped, though you notice there's one more you haven't read.

"What does that one say?"

He flips it over revealing the final message - "Merry Christmas."

You let out a soft chuckle before cupping his face close to yours once more, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Merry Christmas, Franco."

taglist:@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

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on his tippy toes 😭😭😭

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jet!! guess what!!

i saw your this post on pinterest! heres the link https://pin.it/2EuDlgmip <3

i was like no way i have seen this before-

washdasjh>>?@!?@!? wow i made it i cant believe my most liked post ever is literally a franco shitpost i made on a whim this is wild

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ok ik the chances are incredibly slim but are any of my oomfs into … blue lock 😭😭😭 cus im very quickly falling back into my brainrot while catching up on season 2

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Heyyyy, I'd like to request mistletoe for franco colapinto please<3

- so it'd be based on the doorstep/cue cards scene from the movie love actually (which goes so well w the xmas theme🤭) when mark shows up at juliet's door w several signs to declare his love ("to me you are perfect | and my wasted heart will love you | until you look like this | [insert ugly pic]")

BUT i need it to be happy and not angsty please😭 bc in the movie, mark's love is unrequited (juliet married his best friend)

Thank you sm if you end up writing this, I've been loving your fics since you appeared on my feed🫶🏻🫶🏻

say it's carol singers ⟡ ݁₊ . - franco colapinto

w/c: 800 a/n: arghdfjghdbf i'm so sorry this took me FOREVER to get to it's just that i got massive writers block half way through - but thank you !! i hope u like it <333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

"I'll get it!"

At the sound of a doorbell, you jump up from the couch where you and your roommate had spent the entirety of your day. Finally free from the worries of final exams and with Christmas rolling around, binge-watching cheesy romcoms had seemed like the perfect way to kill time.

As you reached for the doorknob, your mind ran through the possibilities of who could be behind it - maybe your neighbours asking if you wanted their leftover gingerbread or a delivery guy with the pizza you had just placed an order for. What you hadn't been expecting was to be met with a boyishly handsome face you knew all too well, a stack of poster-size cards and a radio.

"Oh, hi," you let out, trying to hide your surprise.

"Who is it?" your roommate's voice calls out, and you're about to answer before Franco hurriedly pulls a finger to his lips to stop you. Confused, you watch as he swings the stack of cards around to reveal a message.

"Say it's carol singers."

Intrigued, you oblige. "It's carol singers!"

"Oh, whatever," your roommate laughs, resuming her movie, though your feet stay in place. He bends over, setting down the radio and hitting play, and soon a floaty version of 'Silent Night' begins playing. You furrow your brows in confusion, but he doesn't say a word, instead flipping over the top card to reveal more words.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while."

'A while' is an understatement, considering that you haven't even seen each other in over a month - or however long it had been since you had ended an almost year-long relationship with one of Franco's closest friends.

After that, it seemed like there was no reason for the two of you to talk anymore, even if you had gotten to know each other rather well. Mostly because it had been just that fact that had catalysed the sudden end of your relationship - your boyfriend unhappy with how close you had gotten to Franco, and yourself growing more weary of just what that closeness might mean.

Through it all though, you had tried your best to keep Franco unaware of his involvement in the end of your relationship, and to this day he still didn't know a thing.

"And maybe this a bit weird, considering the terms we ended on."

Or so you thought.

You watch as he continues to flip through the large cards he's holding, eyes darting up to meet his every time he reveals a new message. It's strange, the fact that you're not even stopping to realise how ridiculous this situation is - that he's here, holding handwritten cards and leafing through them instead of just talking to you like a normal person.

"But just because it's Christmas - and at Christmas you tell the truth."

But the earnest look he keeps on giving you convinces you that maybe saying these things out loud may not be the easiest thing for him, and so you continue reading.

"To me, you are perfect."

The realisation hits you as you silently mouth the words he's written.

"And my wasted heart will go on loving you, forever."

You don't know what urges you to do it, but you're stepping out through your doorway, your arms reaching to grasp either side of his face - pulling his lips to crash into yours. He's just as surprised as you are, but you hear him drop the cards onto your doorstep, freeing his hands to wrap around your waist.

When you finally part, you're almost breathless, face flushed with shock and a sudden embarrassment.

"I thought that," Franco's just as out of breath as you are, "I thought you-"

"So much for a wasted heart," you laugh, tucking a couple stray strands of hair behind his ear.

"So you-" It's almost as if the shock of the situation is making him unable to finish his sentences.

"Yes, Franco, for ages."

"Oh, thank god, I was really nervous about coming here and making an idiot of myself."

"Where did you even get the idea from?"

"Saw it in a movie," he admits sheepishly before letting out a soft relieved laugh which is music to your ears. Even more so than the crackly carol that streams through his radio, which you've accidentally kicked down a step.

He lets go of your waist momentarily to pick it up, stop the recording, and gather the cards he's dropped, though you notice there's one more you haven't read.

"What does that one say?"

He flips it over revealing the final message - "Merry Christmas."

You let out a soft chuckle before cupping his face close to yours once more, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Merry Christmas, Franco."

taglist:@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

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heyy!! can i ask for a stocking stuffer:)?i have fair skin, hazel eyes (more leaning towards green tho), brown hair that is pretty straight, i am very passionate and bold and i like to be friends with everyone. I am a pretty emotional person, i wear my heart on my sleeve. i love anything sweet, and im a girly girl , i love sage green, and i love to gossip with my closest friend and play around with fashion and makeup. A lot of my inpso is from the BRATZ girld as i grew up watching them A LOT. and i am rlly into photography. (and i have made joao felix a personality trait 🥲 jkjk)

for anon ˚⟡˖ ࣪

YOU SOUND SO CUTE <3 hope u like thiss anon

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

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FRANCO COLAPINTO | Post-quali interview Qatar GP 2024

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── .❤︎

itty bitty franco blurb to feed y'all while i combat writers block ,,,

new-ish boyfriend Franco who would rather die than admit to how much he likes the pet names you use for him. instead he just playfully rolls his eyes or shakes his head whenever you call him "baby" or "francito" to show that he's only tolerating it for your sake. until one day you finally decide to give him what he wants and just call him by his name and almost instantly he notices, coming to you with his tail between his legs to ask in his tiniest voice "are you mad at me, amor?" - because why else would you call him Franco? sure, that is his name, but to you it isn't, it never has been. even though you have to assure him that he hasn't actually done anything wrong, he'll only believe you once you go back to using them. because above all else they're little reminders of your affection, sprinkled into the very way you address him - because he isn't just 'francito', he's your francito.

taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

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watching the recent vids of franco talking about his journey to f1 makes me sooooo ugdhfidufgh its so heartwarming seeing how humbly he talks about it and how grateful he sounds for the opportunities he's been given - when he says things like "if i can do it so can anyone" and talks about moving to italy alone 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

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anyways me and my sister are watching how to lose a guy in 10 days and all i can think abt is how franco is soooo ben like i fear i may have to write a fic cus the dynamic is so there

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wanted to hop on here and say sorry for the semi inactivity lately - life's been a bit hectic and i'm sorry to all the people who requested moodboards, i promise I'll get around to them soon !!!!!!!