#5 Time World Boxing Champion

[wileys-russo]

washing machine malfunction II m.earps x reader

based on this request here washing machine malfunction II m.earps

"taking footage to scout with are you?" your best friend teased as you filmed a clip of the game, smacking her knee and sending her a playful glare. "no! proving to mary i sat through the entire game." you quipped back, sending the video to your girlfriend and pocketing your phone.

"oh sorry are we not up to your standards? do you only watch games at old trafford or wembley now?" your best friend cooed pinching your cheek sharply. "yes actually, or at least where they have actual toilet blocks and not portaloos." your face scrunched up with disgust.

"hey if you'd like to donate some money toward that we'd be very grateful, not every womens team gets funding you know." your best friend huffed as you frowned and squeezed her knee.

"i'm only teasing. you know i'm happy to be here, just wish i was watching you yell at people on the pitch and not at me for once!" you sighed as the girl scoffed and smacked you, she was normally the captain but was out in a boot having sprained her ankle last week.

"so where are you coming on the table?" you clarified, eyes set back on the match unfolding in front of you. "third, but its only the fourth round of the season. lots can change!" the brunette admitted as the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

"okay no offence to you and your entire team but your keeper kept you all alive this game, it should be 5-0." you whistled as the second half started to wind down.

"of course you favour the keeper, what a shock!" your best friend drawled sarcastically with a roll of her eyes as the whistle blew for full time and a 0-0 draw.

"hey just because my girlfriend is a golden glove holding, bbc sports personality of the year winning, world cup finalist and champion of europe with a tram named after her doesn't mean im bias to keepers!" you grinned holding your hands up as your best friend rolled your eyes.

"oh but you don't brag about her right." the girl mocked with a pout as your grin grew. "only to those who have no choice but to listen, i'd like to see you try and run away from me." you gently nudged your toe against her moon boot as she shoved you.

"you know you could always play with us next season! reallyyy make the girlfriend proud, i can see mary being a very loyal wag." the girl teased as you laughed sarcastically. "you couldn't afford my salary." you shrugged with a click of your tongue.

"more like we couldn't afford your two left feet and lack of hand eye coordination." the girl snickered gesturing for you to help her up. "yeah that too." you had no choice but to agree with a grimace, tugging her up and carefully helping her down toward the barrier.

you stood by as she gave a speech, commending the girls on their efforts as your phone buzzed and you looked down with a smile seeing it was a few messages from your girlfriend.

"god you're so in love its disgusting, get a grip!" you glanced back up and pocketed your phone, playfully punching your best friend in the arm as you waited for her to finish speaking with some of her team, having driven her to the game.

"you can tell us all about what we did wrong at training! stop making your poor mate wait around for you to run your mouth." the keeper from the game warned with a grin as she joined the small huddle you were in.

"you were perfect as per usual, only feedback is maybe score from the box next time? make the game a little spicy!" your best friend teased the taller girl who rolled her eyes. "no seriously you played great! that dive in injury time was textbook and that penalty save? world cup stuff." you complimented with a wide smile.

"and she'd know, her girlfriends played in one so thats high praise." your best friend interjected shoving your head playfully. "wait seriously? talk about a dream!" the girl exhaled with a whistle and a grin.

"well then since you clearly have a good eye for talent-" the girl paused to tug off her jersey, handing it to you with a grin before hugging the girls goodbye and heading off. "we best be off to, i'll see you all monday. i'll bring my whistle!" your best friend teased as the girls groaned, you waving goodbye as the two of you headed off to your car.

"i'd be leaving that in the car if you know whats good for you." your best friend nodded to the jersey on your back seat as you pulled a face and started up the car. "what! why?" you laughed as you drove off.

"umm because your girlfriend is a world class keeper and you just took a keepers jersey from someone else." your best friend hinted. "mary won't care! she's all for more girls wanting to be keepers and she loves the womens game." you rolled your eyes as your best friend only hummed, swiftly changing topics.

~

"maz? baby i'm home!" you called out as you let yourself in, unwrapping your scarf and hanging it up on the hook. "two seconds love!" you heard your girlfriend call out from the laundry as you took off your shoes.

"hello beautiful!" the brunette appeared with a grin, placing down a basket of clean laundry on the sofa and opening her arms as you melted into them. "you smell nice." you mumbled into her shoulder making the taller girl laugh.

"ah yes the wonders of soap and shampoo!" the keeper teased, kissing you hello before pulling away. "and she's doing laundry? house wife in the making over here!" you teased, smacking her playfully on the bum with a wink.

"oi! watch it cheeky." mary warned with a point, sitting down on the sofa as you leant over the back of it to peck her lips several times. "whats that babe?" mary noticed the jersey tucked into the back of your pants as you walked into the kitchen.

"oh! well the keeper of saf's team is like insane for the league level they play. i'm serious it could have been like twenty to nothing if she wasn't on her game. we were talking after the game and she gave me her jersey!" you shrugged, dropping the item onto the counter as you rummaged through the fridge, missing the look which crossed your girlfriends face.

"oh? thats nice." mary replied bluntly as you glanced at her with a small frown. "yeah it was." you shrugged it off, grabbing it and tossing it into the dirty basket of laundry.

"how was your afternoon?" you changed topics, grabbing out the stuff to make you and mary a cup of tea. "yeah fine, went shopping with tooney and had to make a last minute excuse to leave because she takes forever! so on the rare chance she asks, you're deathly ill and needed me back home." mary groaned dramatically, head thumping back against the sofa.

"like worse than you and thats saying something!" mary tutted as you made a noise of offence. "hey! if i have to sit in a sports store for two hours while you try on every fucking pair of gloves known to man and then buy none of them, you can carry my bags and sit on a comfy little waiting chair while i try a few outfits." you warned seriously as your girlfriend held her hands up in surrender.

"especially when some of those 'outfits' i spend hours trying on are for you." you hinted, handing her the mug of tea as a smug smile settled on the keepers lips.

"mm yeah we haven't been that sort of shopping for awhile, you free tomorrow baby?" mary grinned wolfishly as you flipped her off and settled into the section of the sofa that wasn't covered in laundry and flicking on the tv.

~

"change, put this on please babe." mary tugged on the bottom of your shirt, dropping a new item of clothing onto your head. "urgh mary!" you huffed, pulling it off and sending her a glare as she grinned at you with a mouthful of toothpaste.

"why do i need to change?" you noticed what she'd given you and asked with a knowing smile. "i don't like that shirt." mary shrugged pointing to your current top with her foot as she sat up on the counter brushing her teeth.

"its your shirt!" you laughed with a shake of your head. "then i want it back, so change." mary ordered, leaning over the sink and spitting. "what if i don't want to wear this?" you egged her on, holding up the jersey inbetween your fingers like it disgusted you.

"then go pick another one, theres about twenty or so in there you can choose from." mary shrugged nodding to her side of the closet where the jerseys she'd chosen to keep over the years hung proudly, rinsing out her mouth and stepping out of the bathroom.

"mmm i actually think i might go put on that jersey from today, saf's team just played so well." you stripped off your top and took a few steps back, watching your girlfriends eyes drop immediately to your chest.

"you know on second thoughts love i actually don't think you need to wear anything at all." you laughed as mary tackled you to the bed, attacking your face with kisses as you squealed and pushed her off. "you hate that i took that girls jersey today don't you?" you moved to sit on top of her with a grin.

"no!" mary rolled her eyes, reaching out for you as you grabbed her hands and pressed them into the mattress. "yes you are, admit it. you hate it, the thought of me wearing someone elses kit!" you teased with a smirk, pressing down her hands harder.

"okay well can you blame me? you're my girlfriend and you wear my jersey. nobody elses!" mary huffed with a frown as you smiled and leant down to kiss away her pout. "you're such a baby, its adorable." you mumbled against her lips.

"i am not! god you're such a wind up." mary pulled her hands free and flipped the two of you, hovering over you now as she ducked her head and started to gently kiss at your neck.

"and tomorrow the washing machine is going to malfunction and that girls jersey will sadly be gone."

[rosenclaws]

the pitch || Charlie Kenton x reader

a/n: what if i fucked around and wrote a charlie kenton drabble...anyways here it is and its not much but I'm a slut for an angry man learning to love through being a dad. Also sorry if this is really shit aldfjks

wc: 539

“Is that Phoenix?!” You turn around to see a young boy staring at your bot in awe. You set down your wrench and wipe your face with a rag.

“Sure is.” You say proudly. Fiery red paint decorated your award winning bot. Gold accents yielded the perfect amount of sparkle and shine that left enemies blinded by your attacks.

“She’s one of the best bots in the competitive circuit! 3 time world champion!” You smile as the boy practically bounces where he stands. He looks vaguely familiar as he continues to ramble on. Suddenly it clicks.

“You’re Max! I watched Atom’s fight against Zeus you guys killed it! What are you guys doing here?” You ask excitedly.

“You know who I am?” Max says with a grin.

“Of course! Who hasn’t heard of Atom.” You loved Atom.

It was about time someone put Zeus in his place and for it to be a training bot? Oh it was perfect. You watched in awe as him and his dad fought with everything they had. Especially in the last round. You were always a fan of boxing and well.

You knew exactly who Charlie Kenton was. Boxing was one of your favorite sports growing up and Charlie had always been your favorite. You watched all his matches. Even saw one in person once.

"In that case, would you be interested in a fight? Say five thousand for the winner?" Max asks slyly.

His overeager act dropping quickly as he exposes his true intentions. You let out a laugh, shaking your head at this kids brazen offer. He's got guts that's for sure.

"Oh I see why you're here now." You shift your weight to one foot and cross your arms.

"Atom's a great bot but, do you really think you can take on her?" You gesture towards Phoenix.

"Maybe not, but wouldn't you want to find out."

"Max!" You look up to see Charlie Kenton walking towards the two of you.

"I told you to stay put for 5 minutes." He ruffles Max's hair and Max pushes his hand off. Cute.

"Well while you were busy getting parts, I was getting us a match." Max says proudly.

"I never said yes, kid." Charlie looks up at you and freezes. Fuck you're prettier in person.

"Sorry about him, he gets excited." Charlie pushes Max to the side and Max frowns.

"This is bullshit." Max mumbles.

"Hey! Watch the language."

"Just because you have a crush on her doesn't mean you can hijack my pitch!" Charlie's eyes widen as he shushes Max.

A proud grin on his face as his dad glares at him. Looks like his tough guy persona isn't all its cracked up to be. Especially with Max around.

"We're leaving. Now." He pushes Max towards the door, practically dragging him towards the door.

You whistle loudly, grabbing the attention of both boys. Grabbing a pen you walk over to Charlie, smiling as you write down your number on his arm.

"Call me and we can talk about that fight." You finish off your number with a heart. He smirks and looks down at your number. He opens his mouth to say something but Max cuts in before he can.

"We'll call you!" Charlie rolls his eyes but looks at him lovingly.

"See you around." Even as they walk away you can still hear them talking.

"You're totally welcome by the way."

"Shut up kid."

[cazzyf1]

An Article about Lella Lombardi - Nobody makes jokes about women drivers around Lella Lombardi

The sleek Lola T-332 racing car crossed the starting line at the river side, Calif, Grand Prix, hurtled ahead of three cars, and swooped back inside with split-second timings.

"You mean that's really a girl?" Muttered three times indianapolis 500 winner A. J. Foyt, looking on in incredulously from the side liners.

For Lella Lombardi, the first woman in 17 years (and the second ever) to compete on high performance Formula One circut - the big leagues of professionals auto racing - the question is all but invetable. What in the world is a nice Italian girl like Lella doing in overalls and a crash helmet, risking her life at speeds close to 200 miles an hour?

"That's what mama keeps asking me," says the tomboyish 31-year-old Lella, "I guess she thinks I should be home with a good husband and a houseful of bambini."

It was obvious from the beginning, to Lella at least, that she was cut from different cloth compared to most girls. Born in the little Piedmontese village of Furgarolo, she was hooked on auto racing before she was out of diapers.

"The first I remember, I am perhaps 4 or 5 years old," she recalls, "I was making little cars from things I found in my mum's sewing box. When I was 8 I decided I shall be a racing driver. I didn't say anything but I made up my mind."

As a teenager Lella raced motorcycles with boys in her village. The boys were scandalized she beat them - their mothers that she was racing at all. Eventually the village priest came to call.

"He explained why I should be like a girl and what a girl must do," she remembers. "So I told him, 'yes father' but all the time I am thinking why am I not allowed to do as I want."

Nothing if not persistent, Lella saw her first race at 18. Five years later she brought a car of her own, secondhand, Formula Monza 500 that she tinkered with and drove in races herself. Last year, nearly after a decade of coming up through the ranks, she was approached by March Racing Ltd, of England which was looking for a driver for its two-man Grand Prix team.

"Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 5000 - I raced in them all," says Lella, "I win a lot in Italy - six times women's champion. So when March comes to ask me to try out for them, I say to myself, 'Why not?'"

March's decision to hire her was hardly made lightly. A single Grand Prix car costs $100,000 and putting it through a season of racing costs several hundred thousand dollars more.

"Putting a woman into a Grand Prix cockpit means shattering a lot of tradition," acknowledges March team manager, Max Mosley. "Of course, my wild told me, the only reason I was hesitating was because of Lella's sex, no doubt about her skill, in the end, I guess my wife was right."

Now prepping for this Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Lella is given little chance of winning a race this season (although she finished a respectable sixth in last week's accident-shorter Spanish Grand Prix) since March is designing its cars. Some drivers perhaps disturbed by Lella's invasion of their male peserve, doubt the chunky, 5"2, Lombardi has the stamina for long-distance racing. But March chief Roy Wardell, was watching her during a gruelling test of the company's racers, disagrees.

"Thrasing a car about it bloody hard work," he says, "most male drivers would have been bitching and complaining but she drove more than 300 miles flat out without a whimper." Her main fault, says Wardell, is a rookie's understandable caution. "Lella is still a bit afraid that if she spins out everyone will say, 'see a woman driver'" he says, "but her confidence is building. Pretty soon she'll be mixing it up with the best of them."

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

was born to be your favourite

Fandom: F1 RPF Pairings: Lestapstri/Established Lestappen Rating: Mature/Explicit Tags: Threesome, thigh riding, light humiliation, implied D/s dynamics, bottom Max Verstappen, top Charles Leclerc, top (?) Oscar Piastri Author's Note: Based off of this 5 sentence prompt that I wrote last night. Uh...apologies if this isn't great it was written in a fever dream or something....hehe. Title from Dream Boy by Waterparks.

He’s had enough to drink that the club’s a little too loud, the lights a little too bright, and he just wants to go home. Charles is boxing him in on one side, Lando on the other side with Alex beside him, and Oscar’s leaning across the table, looking at Charles with eyes bright, cheeks flushed pink, deep in conversation. He thinks – momentarily – about texting Charles, despite the fact that they’re sitting beside each other. But with the way Charles and Oscar seem intertwined in conversation, he’s not sure Charles would even feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket.��

So he has to settle for this, tilting his head back, letting his eyes flutter closed, listening to the hum of conversations he can’t quite pick up because he’s not listening hard enough. It’s a peaceful kind of stasis, if he’s honest with himself. But he feels a loneliness aching in his chest, despite the fact that Charles is sitting right beside him. Feels loneliness, and a hint of jealousy, curling through him like smoke. Because Oscar’s monopolizing Charles’ time despite the fact that Max is the world champion tonight, and it should be him that Charles is paying attention to. 

His fingers twitch toward Charles’ hand, where it’s resting on his thigh, pinkie brushing along the side of it before he realizes what he’s doing, pauses, hand hovering in the small gap of space between their thighs. Tentative. He can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks, and he tilts his head back up, reaching out with his free hand for the half-empty gin and tonic sitting on the table, taking a sip of it for something to do, like he’s not waiting for acknowledgement. 

Mere heartbeats later, Charles is turning his attention from Oscar to him, the smile breaking across his features soft as he reaches out, laces his fingers through Max’s, brushing his thumb along the side of his hand gently. Max can feel the tension bleed from his shoulders as he relaxes back against the booth, as Charles settles their joined hands on his thigh, before turning back to his conversation. It feels halfway dismissive, and Max hates it. 

There’s a small part of him – jealous and possessive – that hasn’t been soothed by Charles’ hand in his, he wants to bury his face in the crook of Charles’ neck, wants to sink his teeth into the tender flesh, just to show them all who Charles belongs to. To show Oscar who Charles belongs to. 

Charles squeezes his hand under the table, and Max squeezes back, relishes in the crumbs of affection he gets granted when they’re in public, like this. His brain’s still a little hazy, too many doubles and not enough water or enough food, and he tilts his head to gaze at Charles, eyes tracing along the curve of his cheek, the wave of dark hair where it curls around his ear, the glimmer of his green-gold eyes in the dim lighting. He’s still half-tempted to lean over and murmur in Charles’ ear, half-tempted to try and force himself into Charles and Oscar’s conversation so he can steal Charles away. 

“‘nother round?” Lando asks, voice too-loud and hot in Max’s ear, and he jolts out of the peaceful reverie, glances at the almost empty drink, mostly melted ice at this point, and nods. “Sure, yeah,” he knows his response is delayed, Lando’s brow raised in expectation, and then he’s gesturing at Alex and Oscar, to get them to move. 

“Should make you get the next round, mate,” Lando nudges Oscar in the ribs teasingly, and Oscar rolls his eyes, lips twitching upwards in a barely-there smile. 

Max doesn’t actually know if there’s going to be another round, though. Doesn’t even know if they’ll make it through this round. 

He takes advantage of the distraction to rest his chin on the steady line of Charles’ shoulder, tilts his face so his cheek is pressed against Charles’. He watches as Oscar steps closer, standing in front of Charles now, instead of across the table. He’s tempted, once again, just to sink his teeth in, wondering if it’ll make Oscar uncomfortable enough to leave. Wondering if Oscar will get the hint. 

“Max,” Charles’ voice is a warning, and the sound that Max makes in response is borderline wounded. “You’re not being very polite,” and if that’s not enough to reset his brain, he doesn’t know what is. The flush on Oscar’s cheeks is blazing now, more red than pink, and there’s a hesitance in the way he’s standing, shoulders rounded in, delicate hands twitching at his side. 

It takes him a minute to clue in, had forgotten that he’d asked for this if he won the championship, extra incentive. Charles picking out a suitable third to make him forget every bit about the shit season, to make him forget about the fact that Red Bull was crumbling around him. He wasn’t expecting it to be Oscar. 

“Want to leave,” he settles for whining in Charles’ ear, and Charles turns to look at him, green eyes bright, burning through him. “Apologize, Oscar is being so polite, and you are being rude, Max,” Charles’ tone is firm, and Max can’t help the flush that washes over him, breaks his stare first, eyes focused on the floor under their feet. 

“I am sorry, Oscar,” it’s embarrassing, to have to apologize, the shame of it curling through him, sharp and hot. Charles makes a noise in the back of his throat, but his fingers tighten in Max’s, and he knows that at least the apology is accepted. 

“No worries, mate,” Oscar sounds appropriately unbothered, if not a little embarrassed, and when Max brings his gaze up to meet the warm brown of Oscar’s, he’s pleased to find a small smile reflected back at them. “No hard feelings,” 

Charles is pulling him to his feet, and they’re making their way to the exit before Max’s brain can even really catch up with the fact that this is happening, with the fact that Oscar’s coming back with them. There’s a car idling at the curb, and Charles opens the door for both of them, helps Max into the car with a hand in the small of his back before he ducks in behind them both. 

“You are being very needy, Max,” Charles’ voice is warm, almost amused as Max tucks himself against Charles’ side, “It is almost as though you think Oscar will be fucking me instead of you, hm?” 

The words do something to him, and Max swallows, heavy, the click of his throat audible in the relative silence of the car. “You are thinking he would be fucking me, or I would be fucking him, yes? That is why you are being so jealous?” Charles scoffs like it’s funny, and Max makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat, pulling back from where he’s leaning against Charles. 

“Charles, you are making fun of me,” annoyance laces through Max’s tone, and Charles laughs, reaching out to place his free hand on Oscar’s thigh. 

“He is very pretty, yes?” The question is directed at Max, and he nods, brow furrowed, lips downturned. “But he is here to fuck you. I am having no desire to fuck anyone other than you, Max,” Charles words have finality, but Max still can’t stop the flare of jealousy. 

“You have been flirting with him all night, Charlie,” He sounds obstinate, wonders if Charles will put him in his place for it later, “Not even paying attention to me,” and Charles looks at him, eyes narrowed, brow raised.

“Ah, I see,” Charles’ voice gives nothing away, but the set of his lips, the tension in his jaw tell Max everything he needs to know. 

“Apologies, Oscar, I may need to remind him of his place first,” Charles’ tone is dismissive, and Max feels a shiver race down his spine, licks his lips and moves to say something, but Charles places a finger over his lips. “No, you will be quiet,” 

He snaps his mouth shut obediently, nods, and Charles returns to his softly murmured conversation with Oscar, arm still wrapped possessively around Max’s back, hand still splayed over Oscar’s thigh, and Max is already floating a little, leaning forward to bury his face in the side of Charles’ neck, where he’s soft and warm, and smells like cologne – something warm and rich. 

He hardly realizes that they’re at the hotel, until Charles is herding him out of the car, hand wrapped around his waist, keeping him close. Oscar’s following, arm brushing against Max’s, and Max has the warring desire to pull Oscar closer, or to shy away to bury himself closer to Charles. Doesn’t have much time to think about it, herded into the elevator, and then it’s just the three of them, confined, and Max feels his breath catch in his chest. Oscar’s eyes on him are soft and warm, and he feels them like a brand, just like he feels the press of Charles’ hand as it creeps under his shirt, brushing along the dip of his spine, dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans, warm and possessive. He can’t stop the sound that escapes him, desperate and needy. “You are still wanting this, yes, Max?” Charles asks, as the elevator shivers to a stop, the door sliding open to their floor, and Max meets Oscar’s eyes. There’s a shy smile on his face, confident and hopeful, desire smoldering in his gaze, as his eyes flutter over the lines of Max’s body. 

Max turns back to Charles and nods. “Yeah, yeah we can,” voice breathless. 

“Strip,” Charles’ tone is demanding, the moment the hotel room door is closed behind them, and Max’s brain has to take a moment to reset, stares at Charles, eyes wide, mouth open, but he can’t think of what he wanted to say, brain empty of thoughts as he looks at Charles, at the open desire reflected back at him. 

He kicks off his shoes, and is pulling off the Red Bull polo as he makes his way further into the room, tosses it into a corner, and waits for the reprimand to be neater, to fold it, but it never comes. Unbuttons his skinny jeans, and pulls them down with his boxers all in one go, hard cock springing up, red, flushed and aching. 

“Eager,” Oscar’s voice comes as a surprise, and Charles’ answering laugh is rich and warm, as he follows Max into the room, wraps his arm around Max’s waist and pulls him close, presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Obedient, usually,” Charles says, glancing over at Oscar with a raised brow, “He, of course, is being ill behaved because he thought he would not get fucked, and because he’s jealous,” Charles murmurs the word like it’s poison, and then squeezes at Max’s side, rings cool and burning against his skin. “Stay,” the command rolls off of him with ease, and Max waits. 

He watches as Charles moves towards Oscar, unbuttons his shirt with deft fingers, pushing it open, and off Oscar’s shoulders, before running a hand across the broad expanse of Oscar’s chest, fingers brushing across one nipple, and then the next. He watches the shiver that runs through Oscar, the jump of his jaw, the way his eyes flick from Charles to Max with hunger. 

His cock aches, and he can feel it weeping precome. He feels vulnerable like this, exposed to the room, Oscar’s eyes dragging over the lines of his body like he’s something to be devoured. 

“Max,” Oscar’s voice is ragged, as Max watches Charles fingers dance over the waistband of Oscar’s jeans, unbuttoning them, dragging the zipper down, “You look so good for us,” and Max can see the corner of Charles’ mouth tilt up in a smile, “Doesn’t he just?” Charles murmurs, leans in to press a kiss to Oscar’s cheek. 

“Pants off, and then on the bed,” Charles murmurs, so low that Max can barely hear him, “If you’re good at listening to instructions, I’ll let you know how to take him apart,” Charles glances over at him, and Max can’t stop the whine that slips from his lips. “Once he is remembering he had no reason to be jealous in the first place, hm, darling?” 

Max just nods, shifts from one foot to the other, watching as Oscar peels off his jeans, tossing them on the chair to the side of the room, before he crawls into the bed, leaning against the headboard and watching, eyes bright and blazing, despite the flush creeping over his cheeks again. 

Charles pulls Max in, fingers wrapped around the expanse of his wrist and tugging, tangling his fingers into Max’s hair. “Are you going to listen?” He murmurs, before leaning in to press a kiss to Max’s forehead, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips, gentle. “Yes, Charles,” can’t even hide the arousal, the naked obedience, as he leans into Charles’ hold, grinds against Charles where they’re pressed together. Charles laughs, soft and warm, in his ear, presses a kiss to the hinge of his jaw, before biting down. 

“Oh? So possessive in public, even when I was arranging this for you, and now you want to be grinding against me. Do you need to mark your territory, Max?” Charles asks, the hint of condescension blazing through Max, hips jerking forward at the words. “Do you need to be reminding everyone who you belong to?”  

“Charles,” his voice is breathless, whined out, and Charles just grins, sharp and wide, releases Max’s hair, and drags him towards the bed. “You are going to be good, yes, Max?” Charles asks, and Max nods, thinks everything other than Charles and Oscar have been burned out of his brain. Watches as Charles pulls off his t-shirt, steps out of his ridiculously baggy, wide-legged jeans, and crawls into the bed, leans in to kiss Oscar gently, before leaning against the headboard and patting his thigh. 

“Come, Max,” 

Max listens, on autopilot, clambering into the bed, straddling Charles’ thigh, before gazing at Charles, expectant, eyes wide and hazy, lips parted. 

“If you’re going to behave like a dog, you can be acting like one too, Max,” Charles says, and the words barely process in the hazy cloudiness of his brain, tilts his head to look at Charles, brow furrowed. “You want to mark your territory? Do it yourself, get yourself off on my thigh, baby,”

Max flushes crimson, cheeks hot, and he opens his mouth to protest to be met with Charles’ raised brow, a tilt of his head, “Are you going to be good?” Charles asks, and Max snaps his mouth shut. He squirms into a position where it’ll be comfortable, face buried into the swell of Charles’ pectoral, shifting, and flexing his hips, rolling against the hard, hot line of Charles thigh. It’s too dry, just on the wrong side of uncomfortable, and when he glances up to complain about it, Charles’ mouth is on Oscar’s, kissing him deep and hot, fingers tangled in Oscar’s hair, to tilt his mouth where he wants him. 

Max can’t stop the whine that escapes him, sinking his teeth into Charles skin, and Charles pulls back with a hiss, “I didn’t tell you that you could stop,” Charles voice is sharp, almost dismissive, “Hurts, too dry,” Max’s chest rises and falls rapidly, and Charles smiles, tilts his head and nods. 

He fumbles for the lube for a moment, and Max can’t stop himself from making tiny, aborted movements against the line of Charles’ thigh. Doesn’t want to stop the sparks jolting through him with each movement of his hips, but it’s achey in a way he doesn’t like. “Good boy,” Charles murmurs, as he squeezes lube into his palm, reaching down between them to wrap his fist loosely around the line of Max’s cock loosely, slicks him up in a motion that’s almost clinical, despite the way Max thrusts desperately into his grip. 

“Charles, please,” Max begs, and Charles just smiles, pulls his hand away, wipes the remainder of the lube on the duvet, and can’t stop the way his face pulls in disgust at his own actions. They’re going to have to call down for more bedding, and pay an additional cleaning fee, but it’s a problem for later. 

“What do you need, baby,” Charles asks, patronizing, and Max just whines into his skin, as he grinds and ruts against the line of Charles’ thigh. It’s lube slick and wet, and it’s almost enough to convince him that it’s good, the slow drag of his cock pressed against his own abdomen, against the line of Charles thigh. It’s hot, he can’t stop the sounds from slipping from his mouth, as Charles tangles his fingers in Max’s hair and tilts his head back so he can see the way Max’s mouth falls open at the friction, the way it turns from hesitant to desperate, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“So pretty baby, look at how good you’re being, how obedient,” Charles murmurs the praise, and when Max glances over at Oscar, he catches the flush on Oscar’s cheeks, his head tilted back, hand wrapped around his own cock. “You like seeing him like this, Max?” Charles asks, and Max nods frantically. 

“So silly, thinking that I would let him fuck me, hm? Not when he listens to me so well. He can be fucking you like you deserve,” Charles murmurs, can’t stop the way the filth falls freely from his mouth, as Max continues to rut against him, body shivering. 

“Oscar,” Charles' tone is clear, demanding, and Oscar looks over, brown eyes hazy, pupils blown wide. “Open him up,” it’s a demand, as he hands the bottle of lube over to Oscar, “and then you can fuck him,” 

It takes a moment, to get all the right angles, so that Max can continue the frantic grind against Charles’ thigh, and then Oscar’s hands are on him, stroking down the line of his back, the crack of his ass, until one finger is teasing at his hole, wet and warm, and Oscar lets out a soft little sound, plaintive behind him, and Charles moans “Both of you, so good,” he murmurs, not a mention of his own neglected cock, hard and dripping, keeping both hands anchored on Max’s hips, helping him move, fingers digging into the soft dips of his love handles. 

Oscar’s finger slips inside, lube slick and slow, and he thrusts experimentally in time with the roll of Max’s hips against Charles’ thigh. Avoids brushing against Max’s prostate until he’s got a second finger into him, scissoring him open, tentative and gentle. He gets more confident as Max’s mouth falls open, wail escaping him at the first graze of Oscar’s fingers against his prostate. It feels too good, too much, not enough all at the same time, and he can’t help the sob that escapes him. 

The friction of Charles’ thigh against his cock, and Oscar’s fingers, exactly where he needs them, has him close to the edge before he can even think. His head’s empty except for the coil of pleasure in his abdomen, and need, so thick it feels like it’s clouding up the room. 

“Charles, please, please,” He begs, babbling the words high and needy, and Charles runs a hand down his back reassuringly. “What do you need, baby,” the tone’s still a hint patronizing, like Charles already knows, but needs him to ask for it anyways. 

“Please let me come,” the words spill out with a sob. 

“Of course baby, you’re being so good for me, marking me up like this,” Charles murmurs softly, and Max’s is spilling all over his thigh with a sob, hot, wet and sticky, as Oscar’s three fingers deep inside of him, still insistently brushing over his prostate, the ache of overstimulation settling under his skin as he squirms where he’s pinned.

[lewisvinga]

skyfall | max verstappen x reader!

summary; when once again abu dhabi was the decider for the world championship, but this time it was between ex lovers.

warning; angst 😝

word count; 1.3k

note; skyfall by adele is so good , but there might be typos idk

masterlist !

Abu Dhabi 2023. A race Y/n has been looking forward to since the start of the season. Although her season had a bit of a rough start, the McLaren driver shocked the world. After ending below P10 in the first few races, Y/n pushed through and started winning races, quickly catching up points wise to a certain Red Bull river.

Max Verstappen.

What once was the perfect depiction of young love quickly turned into an intense rivalry. They were young and in love, but they were too focused on their career. With Max’s anger issues, and Y/n’s stubbornness, their relationship ended horribly.

It ended to horribly that the other drivers had to make sure they weren’t together. During media duties and post and pre race interviews, they had to make sure that Y/n and Max weren’t near each other. And if they ever were near each other, it was living hell for everyone on the grid.

It didn’t help the fact that they were currently tied in points for the World Championship. For Max, it’d be his 3rd, but for y/n? She’d do anything to become the first female Formula One driver to be the champion of the world.

The weekend started off tense in the McLaren and Red Bull garages. It was so tense that Lando and Sergio had come up with multiple plans to try to avoid the garages.

Next came qualifying, which went exceptional for Max as usual. For the McLaren driver, it didn’t turn out so well. Ending up at P8. y/n felt sick to her stomach. Not the type of sick from being so nervous, but the type of sick where she was so angry and struggled to contain it.

It just seemed like luck wasn’t on her side as she finished at P8. However, she knew she’d do anything to make it out on top on Sunday.

Lando avoided her like the plague on Sunday. As much as he loved his teammate and enjoyed being around her, he knew that it was no time to joke around. The other McLaren workers copied his strategy. They knew one wrong thing could set Y/n off and they did not want to risk her losing.

The young Brit told her good luck and gave her a quick hug which she didn’t want to admit that she needed. As y/n makes her way to her car, she sees Max stood by his car and glancing at her. They both swore a sudden bitter taste filled their mouth as they made eye contact. They knew this race will ruin anything they ever had and anything they could ever try to have.

Y/n takes a deep slow breath once she was finally at her spot of P8, waiting for the green light to go. It felt like time was moving insanely slow as she sees the red lights slowly go off before it finally turned green.

The start of the race was tame with Max keeping his place of P1 in the first few laps. Y/n managed to take over Charles and Lando, giving her the place of P6 in the beginning. She wasn’t satisfied with it. Of course, she couldn’t be. There were still 5 more drivers she needed to overtake in order to be first.

Y/n soon catches up to George and she easily overtakes him and Carlos soon after. Lewis was a bit of a challenge. He’s a 7x champion of the world and an experienced driver. Nonetheless, Y/n drove past him, placing herself in P3.

She was behind the two Red Bull drivers. Sergio was at least close to her but Max already had a bit of time ahead of his teammate. She was so close when suddenly heard a voice.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need you to box.”

“What?” She loudly exclaims, “No, I’m so close to taking him over. Why?” She continues, starting to get frustrated.

“Now, y/n. We don’t want to risk anything by doing it later.”

Y/n felt furious but she listened. She knew she had to push herself in order to pass Max. By the time she made it back on track, she was at P5. Luckily for her, she was a fantastic driver and in no time she made it back to P2.

Max was still 15 seconds ahead of her. He felt satisfied knowing that he was ahead of her. He ignored the strange feeling in the back of his mind that he started to feel. He used to be madly in love with her. She used to be the one who could make him smile and laugh with a simple joke. She was the one who he could go to after getting into an argument with his father.

Sometimes it shocked him how badly their seemingly perfect relationship ended.

It shocked him enough to be distracted until he realized that y/n was right behind him. He was getting yelled at through his radio to focus and get farther ahead so he can box.

He managed to gain speed and lengthen the time between them. But he could only keep it up for so long until his tires had to be changed. Despite Red Bull being quick at changing the tires, Y/n immediately took P1.

Once Max was back on track, it was like a war between the two. A minute later, he’d be in first, the next minute, y/n would take his place. The gap between the two of them and the rest of the drivers was large. They didn’t have to worry about someone else potentially taking their place.

The last lap was like a war. Everyone watched intensely they drove pretty much side by side. It was difficult to figure out who was ahead and who wasn’t.

Y/n glances at Max, only to see him looking back at her. Filled with hurt and anger from their past relationship, she pushed through on the last turn. She could see the checkered flag in the distance. The same flag she had been dreaming about throughout the week. She accelerated, gaining a second ahead of Max.

Time passed by slowly as she finally passes the waving checkered flag.

“Y/n L/n, you are champion of the world.”

Shock and disbelief filled Y/n’s body. Months of sacrifice and spending the last hour fighting for her spot was all worth it. It felt like she was on cloud nine as she parks the car in her designated spot and quickly gets out to celebrate with her teammate and her team.

Joy and ecstasy was all she felt as she made her into the cooldown room. Sergio, who placed third, gave her a tight hug to congratulate her.

“Felicidades, chiquita.” [congratulations, little one] Sergio says in a soft tone, pulling her into a tight hug. Despite being Max’s teammate, he always cared deeply for her.

Y/n lets out a chuckle as she wraps her arms around him. “Gracias, Checo.” [thank you, checo] she responds as they both pull away and take sit down at their designated seats.

The air in the cooldown became thick as a certain Dutch player made his way inside. Sergio awkwardly coughs as he turns away, wanting nothing more than to leave the room. Max and Y/n knew that there were camera’s recording which meant if they didn’t want to give their PR team a headache, they had to be civil.

Y/n gets a flashback of their relationship. Oh, how younger her would’ve loved to scream and run into his arms. Younger him would’ve kissed her from the joy and pride he would’ve been feeling.

They would’ve been celebrating on the podium together, proud of their journey. They would’ve been partying together to celebrate the end of a fantastic season. They would’ve gone home together and spend the rest of their week relaxing. They would’ve been the perfect couple.

But one argument let the sky fall and made their once seemingly perfect love, crumble.

[maliciousblog]

Fighter (Jungkook)

Warning: This is a dead dove fic ⚠️

You've always been a fan of MMA practising boxing and jujitsu in your spare time. It was a welcome distraction from your busy life.

Hitting the gym after a stressful day of being a corporate slave did ease the tension and helped you blow off some steam.

Learning jujitsu opened up a whole new world for you as you got more immersed into the sport you took a keen liking to watching it as well.

Soon enough you and your gym buddies would meet up over the weekend to watch fight broadcasts which eventually turned into you buying tickets to live matches.

It gave you a sort of adrenaline high.

It made you forget about your worries even if it were for a little while.

This weekend was no different than any other you and your friends were seated on the ring side.

Watching new fighters try to work their way up the ranks serving as an opening act for the main event.

They generally never really caught your attention much as most of them were just clumsy amateurs  trying to make it big.

Concentrating more on your beer at hand.

The commentator was introducing a new rookie from Korea Jeon Jungkook.

Fighting on a 2 loss streak this was his last chance to prove himself otherwise as a rookie he wouldn't be able to get a fighting contract.

Out of curiosity you looked up only to find him looking directly at you nervously sliding from one leg to another which was understandble given the fact that this one fight decided if he would have a career or not. The end was near for him.

He didn't have much hope or faith in himself.

He had sacrificed his all for his dream and now he slowly saw it drifting away from his grasp.

His head was filled with a million thouts

Voices crowded his mind of self doubt and anxiety as he made his way into the ring.

The sound was deafening he felt as if his head would explode.

Until suddenly everything went silent he became painfully aware of every detail in complete silence as he locked eyes with you.

It was as if for the first time in a long while he felt at ease.

He felt grounded

His breath leveled back to normal

The tremor in his hand subsided as he stood there entranced by you.

Until he heard the bell ring.

The referee pulling him into the centre of the ring starting the fight.

The first round went better than expected he was able to land a couple of punches causing some damage to his opponent.

He dominated the first round demonstrating his skill and impressive striking.

The second round he was grounded by his opponent jungkook knew he excelled in striking but lacked in wrestling and ground work

Using his weakness against him sending a powerful blow to his face which resulted in a deep gash.

With blood rushing down his face clouding his sight.

The fight had brought the audience to the edge of their seat the last round would decide who would win.

Jungkook was exhausted and bloody and beaten maybe it was best to accept defeat at this point things weren't going his way either way.

If he didn't win this fight he wouldn't have anything to return to he gave up all his savings to recieve training.

He had been alone all his life his parents died when he was about 5 leaving him to his grandfather who ran a boxing gym.

This is where he grew up this was all he ever knew ever since he was a child.

It wasn't soon when his grandfather too passed away leaving him all alone yet again. He promised that he would become world champion one day it was either that or he wouldn't want to live.

Without this life wasn't worth living.

The voice of self doubt took over once again he felt defeated he didn't know how much longer he could go on.

But they were once again silenced .

Silenced by your cheers it was the first time in his life that someone cheered for him.

You a complete stranger believed in him at that more than anyone ever did in his entire life.

At that moment you were all he needed your cheers gave him the strength to fight the last round knocking his opponent to the ground earning him the first victory in his professional career.

After the event he tried to find you in the crowd but you were no where in sight his lucky charm.

He knew he had to find you.

The days that followed he started training with a new found energy it was like he was a whole new man.

He gained confidence and knew that he had to work on his technique especially his wrestling.

His coach recommended a local jujitsu gym where he should begin training.

With his gym bag hanging on his shoulder he stepped into the gym.

And began sparring on the mat for about an hour or so not really caring about the building up fatigue.

Nearly spent he was about to call it a day until he saw something flash over the corner of his eye

He watched as you and your sparring partner giggled while tossing each other around.

It was a strange experience each time he saw it was like he was reborn.

It felt as though he was given a second chance at life ever since he saw you.

He couldn't work up the courage to speak to you that day so he tried his best to impress with his fighting skills despite being exhausted he sparred until you left in hopes of seeing you for as long as he could.

Packing up for the day he was just about to head back home as his phone began to buzz in his back pocket. To his surprise it was his manager informing him that his latest win had landed him a fighting contract and that he was scheduled for an upcoming fight that would offer his a decent pay check.

He was extatic things were finally turning around for him. He credited this win again to you.

It couldn't possibly be a coincidence he saw you the first time he won and now he again met you the day he got a contract.

He was sure that you were his lucky charm.

His suspicion was proved right when in his next fight there you were in the front row

That day he won by knockout and he won his next fight as well similarly with you right by his side.

It could no longer be a coincidence in his mind you were cemented as his lucky charm and he felt that he wouldn't win without as you sit obliviously to his strange theories by the ring you begin to feel a little uncomfortable with the way he is starting at you as if you would disappear the second he looks away.

Bruhsing it off as him probably being disoriented after the fight you didn't think too much of it.

But soon the feeling was harder to shake off he started showing up to your gym more often training when you would train offering to be your sparring partner which you kindly declined.

Given that you preferred to stick to your friends he wouldn't let any man near you either

His possessiveness was starting to creep you out. He wasn't your boyfriend but would tell everyone that he was and when you confronted him about this he told you that it would help keep the creeps away from you.

But who was going to tell him that he was the one creeping you out.

It didn't stop at that he would often wait until you finished to walk you to your car in the guise of keeping you safe or the way he would constantly borrow your stuff saying that he had forgotten his at home.

Soon things like your clothes started to go missing from your gym bag as he snuck them out as souvenirs.

As he clutched a bouquet of roses he followed you to your car today was the day he would finally confess and make you his.

He patiently waited for you to finish your session as he walked you out as usually but before you got into your car.

He stopped you.

You saw his face change to a shade of pink as he looked like a giddy school boy.

He held out the bouquet of roses to you confessing his love and undying affection for you.

It was sweet and he looked so hopefull but you couldn't lie to him and tell him you felt the same.

You tried to be as gentle as you could trying to let him down.

But he was in denial he didn't understand how you couldn't see that you were meant to be you were soulmates it was destiny.

He wasn't relenting so you just ripped off the bandage.

"Listen I said I don't like you it don't understand why that's so hard to get into that thick skull of yours leave me the fuck alone"

He stood there stunned as you stormed off slaming your car door and promptly driving off.

You saw his reflecting in your rear view mirror his eyes were glossed over and he looked like a kicked puppy with his head held low the bouquet of roses that he had so carefully picked out now layed on the cold concrete floor.

He watched as you disappeared off into the night.

It was obvious that you were playing hard to get. That's okay he would just smother you with love until you didn't say yes. Otherwise he would just have to turn to move unpleasant measures at least unpleasant for you he would surely enjoy what he would do to you.

Everyday he would show up at opening time at the gym and leave at closing in hopes of catching you but as the days went by you didn't show up.

You thought it was best to lay low for a couple of days for the awkwardness to wear off.

When he couldn't find you at the gym he started to show up at your office just waiting outside the parking lot waiting for you.

You could only avoid him for so long, soon he began to show up wherever you went it was starting to scare you.

You reached your breaking point when one day you were sleeping you heard the door to your apartment rattle as if someone was trying to break in.

You could hear him on the other side yelling at you to open the door.

" Open the fucking door. Why do you have to make this so difficult.

We are meant to be why can't you just accept it?

I'll do anything for you just tell me what I need to do.

I'll do anything just open the door I just want to talk to you.

I'll treat you so well no one can love you the way I do those jerks that you flirt with at the gym can't love the way I do.

What we have is something special they wouldn't understand.

Open the fucking door or I'm going to break it down. "

You saw the hinged of the door begin to come off as he started to break it down.

You were sure he was going to murder you tonight if it wasn't for security showing up

It took five men to subdue with great difficulty.

Eventually the cops had to be called to restrain him.

He was let out of jail with nothing more than a slap on the wrist as the fighting leage didn't want their top new prospect to not show up for his fights.

The cops adviced you to leave town and lay low for a while because there was nothing they could do about him as he hadn't hurt you yet.

And the officials at the fight leage would simply bail him out each time as his fights were starting to bring in money.

You packed up your essentials in a hurry and headed to your parents home in the country side to get as far away from him as possible.

He was warned by his manager to not get into trouble for a while as he had a big fight coming up that would bring him close to fighting for the championship.

He trained hard every single day maybe if he became champion you would finally love him.

Even when he coughed up blood from overtrainig

He never stopped he had to win.

When fight day came his eyes anxiously scanned the crowd for your face.

You surely couldn't have abandoned him now.

You were his lucky charm

The calm in an ocean of noise

Without you hear he wouldn't win.

He has to have you

How could you betray him like this all you had to do was show up.

The fight commenced and he was on a 4 fight winning streak he couldn't risk losing it when he was climbing up the ranks.

He gave it his all and nearly lost the fight the only reason he won was because of a technicality and a penalty awarded to his opponent he was beat up and his ego was severely bruised.

He blamed his near loss on you how was he supposed to win without his lucky charm.

His delusion was only further proved by the outcome of the fight.

He began to become superstitious and was convinced that it would bring bad luck if he didn't have you.

His only dream in life was to be world champion and he wasn't about to let your refusal stand in his way.

He had to take matters into his own hands he had to make discussions for you because you clearly don't know what's good for you.

Without wasting even a second still covered in blood and sweat he pulled on a jacket and fired up his truck to your home.

He knew where you parents lived he would occasionally show up at night to watch you through the window when he couldn't sleep your presence calmed him down.

He knew he had to lure you out some way or another.

That's when a sinister idea popped into his mind.

He took out a burner phone a dialled your number.

When he heard your voice greet him.

" I'm not going to repeat myself.

Be a good girl and come out. We are going on a little trip just you and I.

If you want to be bad and stay inside I'll just simply come in and drag you out but if I have to do that I can't guarantee the safety of your parents.

They are old and weak you wouldn't want them to get hurt now would you.

I certainly wouldn't mind sending them to an early grave so now be a good Little girl and come with me "

You knew he wasn't joking he was more than capable of killing a grown man let alone your aging parents and living in the country side meant that you couldn't even call for help by the time you did he would have easily murdered your entire blood line.

You had no option but to comply as you snuck out through the back door trying not to wake your parents up maybe some day you'd be able to see them again if he didnt end your life this instant.

Sneaking out you were met with his face a sinister grin plastered across his face.

It was still bloody with most of the blood having dried down you assumed he left the ring directly to find you it was only a matter of time.

He opened the door for you shoving you in as you hesitated.

You were paralyzed with fear he was like a wild animal that was pushed into a corner and wounded he was unpredictable.

All you could do now was comply.

As he sped through the empty highways you knew that if you didn't escape now you wouldn't ever leave.

When his eyes were glued to the road ahead you hesitantly unlocked to lock to the passenger side door.

Just as you were about to open the door to the moving car and make your escape.

You felt his hand grabbing the back of your neck with a bone crushing grip slamming your head into the dashboard effectively knocking you out cold.

He pulled you back and rested your head back onto the seat.

Gently brushing a few strands of hair off your face as he occasionally admired as he drove off.

You looked so peaceful like this so calm and serine he could spend his entire life admiring you.

After an hours drive you finally reached your destination it was a quaint little house just outside the city he had bought it with his first major pay check for you.

He had invisioned his entire future with you by his side today was only the beginning of your life together.

He couldn't help but smile in content as he carried your unconscious body into the threshold of your new home.

He layed you down on a soft mattress in a room he had designed to your liking the sheets matching to the walls painted in your favourite colour.

Slowly coming back to consciousness.

The side of your head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it.

You were slightly disoriented as you tried to take in your surroundings the soft mattress underneath you did little to provide you with comfort.

What little sense of safety you felt vanished as you saw him at sitting beside you running his calloused hands across your naked skin.

"I hope you don't mind I had to get you out of those filthy clothes. It wouldn't have had to be this way if you understood my love for you I never would have had to go this far."

A chill randown your spine as he began to go on and on about how he bought this house for you and how much he was looking forward to spend the rest of your lives together.

"I've done so much for you. I keep you safe.

I bought you this house that matches your liking I all but worship the ground you walk on don't you think I deserve something in return for all I have done for you. "

He said as he straddled your hips.

He tried to fight him off all only to land one punch on him reopening a cut that he had sustained in the fight as blood gushed down his face onto yours

You watched in horror as he seemed completely unfazed by it.

Infact he almost seemed excited by the sight of it.

" Guess I'll just have to fuck the fight out of you"

He grabbed both of your wrists with one one hand pinning you down.

His other hand roaming your body groping you as he pleased.

Ripping off the final coverings from your body leaving you bare for his hungry eyes to shamelessly eye fuck you.

He leaned down to kiss you to which you turned away.

The second time he tried his patience began to wear off with your non compliance wearing his patience thin.

He wasn't having any of it.

Before you could try to push him off you felt a searing slap land on your face the force of which whipped your head to the side.

Before you could even react to it another one followed then another he slapped you around like a rag doll mercilessly raining pain on you he only stopped when you tasted metallic blood on your tounge seeping in from your cheeks.

The fear in your eyes turned him on the fact that he has so much power over you at any given moment he could take your life without even having to try.

You were completely at his mercy and he wasn't feeling very generous today.

You trembled under him knowing that it was best to just comply.

"If you behave this can be a pleasurable experience for the both of us , and if you don't well I don't really care. I'll get what I want either way."

Having you immobilised with fear just made it easier for him to take advantage of you.

He still loved you in his own sick and twisted way and wanted you to feel good too.

He slide down your body grabbing your hips sliding them down to eye level as he spread apart your legs.

His breath fanning over your cunt making you shiver.

You tried to close them but either hand on your thighs held them down like chains.

He teased you gently running his toung through the expanse on your sex.

Slowly building up his pace while lapping you up.

His fingers teased your entrance as you bucked your hips towards him to get some sort of contact our of desperation he loved how needy you had gotten as he ate you out.

Edging you until you were on the verge of tears begging him to let you realse.

He loved the pained look of desperation on your face it made him feel needed.

He would move his tounge skillful working you up to your high only to stop just before you came.

He did this for what seemed like hours.

Teasing you torturing you with pleasure.

The frustration building up in your body was clouding your vision you needed to release one way or another it had gotten to a point where it was almost painful.

He himself could feel his cock strain against the fabric of his underwear.

Big and angry just waiting to burry itself into your soft warm walls.

As much as he enjoyed watching you be a desperate slut.

He needed some action himself.

Moving up caging you between his arms.

You didn't have much energy left in you with the assault he earlier did and the hours of edging you were completely spent.

As he slowly tried to fit his massive girth inside of you.

It was a tight fit as you tried weekly pushing him away telling him it was too much to handle.

He reassured you that you would be fine and to be a good girl and take whatever he gives you.

Once fully inside it felt as if he was splitting you open.

He tried his best to go as slow as he could but the months of pent up frustration and rage all led up to this moment.

He couldn't hold it in anymore as he drilled you into the mattress.

Your finger nails drew crimson marks all along his back as he brought you from one orgasm to another barely giving you rest between them.

It was like he was in a daze finally getting his hands on what he so desperately crave

[theanticool]

So you watched #PaulTyson, saw Amanda Serrano vs Katie Taylor, and now you want to watch more women's boxing? Here's a quick guide!

I have been beating the drum of women's boxing for over a decade at this point, so I feel uniquely qualified to help people who might want to get deeper into their women's boxing bag. So here are a handful of fights to help you jump into the sport!

(I've kept it to recent examples because these fighters are still active)

Katie Taylor vs Amanda Serrano 1 - April 30, 2022

I'm sure most people who saw Taylor-Serrano 2 on the undercard of the Mike Tyson-Jake Paul card did not get to see the first fight. And they should. The 2nd fight picked up right where the first one left off, with these two getting in the phonebooth and getting to work at a torrent pace. Absolutely fantastic fight. Worthy of the Fight of the Year honors it got from Sports Illustrated. Was lucky enough to be there in person and it is one of my favorite memories as a combat sports fan.

2. Claressa Shields vs Savannah Marshall - October 15, 2022

If there is any woman who has claim to the title of best ever outside of Katie Taylor and Amanda Serrano, it is the 'GWOAT' Claressa Shields. She is a 5 division champion who was also the undisputed champion at 154lbs. She's a two time Olympic gold medalist, winning her first one at the age of 16 year old. And through her pro and amateur career, only one woman had ever beat her (on the amateur circuit) - knockout artist Savannah Marshall. Marshall has a claim to being the biggest puncher women's boxing has ever seen and has a style unlike any ever seen in women's pro boxing. So a professional meeting between the two was always going to make for a fun clash.

3. Alycia Baumgardner vs Mikaela Mayer - October 15, 2022

Of the fights on the list, this is probably the least exciting but it carried significant weight and I still found it incredibly entertaining. Mayer is a former Olympian who was on her way to unifying all the belts at 130lbs to become undisputed champion. She had marched her way through the pros, earning a 17-0 record at the time and taking out former champions like Maïva Hamadouche, Erica Farias, and Jennifer Han. Alycia Baumgardner was not that. She was a pro boxer who was in the wilds, trying to cut her teeth at a time when no American promoter was investing in women's boxing. It wasn't until Matchroom (UK promotion) gave her a shot against a different super featherweight champion Terri Harper did Baumgardner finally breakthrough, knocking the champ out in an upset victory. That set these two on a collision course for unification

4. Gabriela Fundora vs Celeste Alaniz - November 2, 2024

This one is a little different. It was less a great, competitive fight than the ascension of the next great women's boxer. Gabriela Fundora comes from a boxing family. Her brother Sebastian is a world champion up at 154lbs. So her winning a world title at only 22 years old isn't too crazy. But fighting for the undisputed (all four belts) kind of is. Celeste Alaniz is a fellow young up and coming boxer who had just knocked off former two division champion and Olympic bronze medalist Marlen Esparza. The fight between these two was fun, while it lasted. Keep an eye out on the winner here. They're going places. Like the top of the P4P list.

5. Yesica Nery Plata vs Kim Clavel - January 13, 2023

Felt wrong not putting any Mexican boxers on this one so I'm going with the light flyweight champion, Yesica Nery Plata. At 30-2, Plata has built up an impressive run as a pro. She is the WBA and WBC light flyweight champion. Sadly, the fight I most want to see from her is a rematch with Kenia Enriquez and with Enriquez up a weight class, that ship has sailed. That said, would love to see her in there with a Yokasta Valle.

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) pt5

chapter 5: apologizes in order

warnings - none at all

series masterlist

The soft clinking of shopping bags filled the near-empty aisle as Y/N reached for a box of cereal. Clad in sweats and a messy braid, a stark contrast to the glamorous world of F1, she was lost in thought, replaying the events of the previous night. The memory of Lewis's cold glare and Nico's fierce protectiveness left a sour taste in her mouth.

Suddenly, a figure rounded the corner, sending a jolt of surprise through her. It was Lewis, clad in a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly mussed. The collision was minor, a brush of shoulders, but the throbbing pain in her hand made Y/N yelp, dropping her grocery bag with a clatter.

Lewis's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh my god, Y/N! Are you alright?" He knelt down to pick up her groceries, his face creasing with concern.

Y/N winced, biting her lip as she retrieved a box of pasta that had split open. "Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled, more to herself than him. Her voice dripped with a coolness that wasn't entirely genuine.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. Lewis cleared his throat, his gaze flitting between her face and the injured hand she cradled close to her chest. Finally, he spoke, his voice hesitant. "Look, Y/N…"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze. The last thing she wanted to do was have a heart-to-heart with Lewis Hamilton, especially after his behavior at the end of the race.

Sensing her resistance, Lewis took a deep breath. "About the other night… my reaction… I'm truly sorry. There's no excuse for what I did."

Y/N's defenses faltered a little. She hadn't expected an apology, and the sincerity in his voice surprised her.

"It's… fine," she mumbled, staring pointedly at the spilt pasta.

"It's not fine," Lewis countered, his voice firm. "You don't deserve that kind of treatment, from anyone. I crossed the line and that is never okay,"

He stood up, and for a moment, their eyes locked. Y/N saw something flicker in his gaze, a mix of regret and something she couldn't quite decipher. Y/N gave a gentle smile.

An unexpected silence descended upon them. The tension was still there, but a strange sense of ease settled in as well. They talked, starting with the mundane things – the lack of healthy options in the store, the upcoming race in China. Their responses were short and guarded at first, but they gradually settled into a comfortable conversation.

"So, cereal for breakfast, then?" Lewis asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N snorted. "What else am I going to make with this mess?" she gestured towards the split pasta.

Lewis chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "Well, you wouldn't want to upset your nutritionist, would you?"

Y/N couldn't help but smile back. The comment, laced with playful sarcasm, was the Lewis she knew from the press conferences – witty, confident. But there was a different layer to him she was starting to see, a man beneath the champion's facade.

As they walked out of the store together, bags balanced on their arms, the awkwardness had dissipated. A fragile truce had been formed, and for the first time since their heated exchange, Y/N allowed herself to consider a world where Lewis Hamilton wasn't just her rival, but perhaps, just perhaps, someone she could understand.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[xadored]

you and osamu as the feared champions of all you can eat restaurants

reader is in college and gender neutral | slight timeskip osamu and atsumu spoilers | you, a broke university student with a part time job and osamu working a crap job apprenticing under a fancy Tokyo chef who he hates. every day you and him bust your asses studying, working, and collapse into bed tired. but once a week, you'll abandon your assignments and osamu will be victorious off another dinner rush, and you and your boyfriend will dine like absolute kings at your favorite all you can eat sushi spot. flat fee, three hour time limit, no limitations on ordering, and of course, extra charge for any food uneaten. (Osamu likes the pressure to clear his plate) no water, no alcohol, not even the miso soup, just to maximize capacity Osamu's work in the kitchen means he knows what costs the most on the menu, so he always orders the best, and you and him will eat thrice your body weight in fish and still lie to the waiter and tell him it's osamu's birthday for the free dessert. (after the 15th time the restaurant starts ID-ing birthdays) each bite of food takes you one more step away from the grind of another hard week, and when you go out the two of you are just a happy couple with no cares in the world. no piles of homework, no exams, no bosses to yell at you, no rent to pay, you and osamu pretend you have absolutely no problems other than running this restaurant into the ground. afterwards, you and osamu cuddle up on your couch and promptly pass out while an episode of Kitchen Nightmares plays in the background and you and your boyfriend would've kept doing your weekly dates until the end of time, if it weren't for atsumu. he crashes your date night, drunk, after a bad loss couples with another failed situationship ("how do they not want me? I'm a pro athlete, and look at my hair!") in need of a win, atsumu challenges osamu to see who can eat more. this results in loud bickering, some crying from atsumu, osamu cheating, atsumu refusing to listen to you and trying to pull the free birthday desert, two broken plates, and a lot of fish eaten. at one point atsumu gets too full and leaves the restaurant to "take a digestion lap" and jogs around the block before coming back to eat. on the way home, atsumu leans too much body weight on his brother, causing them both to go crashing to the ground. A ring box tumbles out of osamu's jacket pocket, which he immediately scrambles to hide. (he'll later tell you he was carrying it around because there was no good place to hide it in your tiny apartment) You pretend not to have seen anything and fuss over helping atsumu back up, but the whole way home you can't stop smiling.

anyways, you, osamu and atsumu are officially banned from the restaurant by the head chef due to suffering too many damages in food expenditures. atsumu promises to use his fancy pro athlete money to pay for all the food and drinks at your wedding, and to pay for your anniversary dinner at a Michelin star restaurant for the next 5 years.

== hii omg i just rly wanted to try writing fanfic, i been like a ghost reader on here for a million years now! would love to chit chat if ur down! :^)

[twopoppies]

May I share some grieving thoughts from someone who has walked this road too many times for folks who may not have been through this before?

It is okay to feel how you feel, and there is no rhyme or reason to it. Your feelings are valid for you, and may not match what others are going through at the same time or at all, and it is okay. The only way out is through. Sometimes all you can do is the next right thing. And that is enough.

It is okay to box those feelings up for short periods of relief: just don’t leave them shoved away permanently. The only way out is through. But taking a time out is okay.

The loss and pain of the moment does not taint the past, in the long term. It may feel like it, but time and perspective will remind you what a gift the journey before was. That joy, love, growth while the person was alive is still valid and important and shaped who you are today. It is okay to celebrate that. It is okay if it is bittersweet. We honor the person by keeping that journey intact. They impacted us, and that is an important thing to honor in their story. Watch the videos. Replay the conversations. Celebrate what was. Don’t give death the power to ruin their positive impact on you.

Just like their absence hurts you, if you fall into being absent in your life because of the pain, you are causing your loved ones that same pain. Choose to honor the deceased’s life by loving yours fully, by being that light you are missing for the people in your life like the deceased was for you. I try to be thankful for the things I get to experience, even without them, because I am going to experience the hell out of them and then someday tell him about all the stuff he missed out on. Even though I believe he is here and sees.

Don’t perpetuate the pain, or initiate a legacy of withdrawal. Pick an honoring activity - for me it is tipping outrageously in their memory and finding joy in the joy they would have found in it. Make it something they championed, or took quiet pleasure in. Keep it to yourself, something between you and their memory. Walk a shelter dog and chat with your person, hide hug rocks, donate read books to the library, serve in a food center. Whatever makes you recall the bond you felt. And love people, for you and for them. The best legacy is one of love and joy, not sorrow and hurt.

Of course, it will be up and down. It strive for the up. Time does heal, and it DOES get better. Don’t let the negative win. Don’t let rot taint their life. OneDirection will never be the same. But it still meant a lot, and that should be honored. It can still mean a lot going forward, and that is honoring.

It has been 5 years since my last big loss. It catches me by surprise sometimes still. But their story is done, and mine goes on: I still reach for the joy I had in getting to be a part of their story. I refuse to lose that too. Because people are involved in my story now. I am still a part of theirs. And I don’t want them to have this hurt of me dropping out of my story: And I let him live on in my adventures, my good work with disadvantaged people, and my love for the people and world I am in. That is the only thing I can still give them, and with time, I am able to do that more and more.

It hurts. It hurts so much. It feels like I can’t breathe, like it overwhelms everything I do, and like I just want to hug his momma so much it causes me physical pain. But each day, it will get a little better. It will blindside you, may catch you by surprise, and that is okay. Because estoy know it won’t be like this forever.

Anyway. I thought grief was a straight line process, and if I power through the stages, it would be done with. That I was betraying their memories by laughing, finding joy, continuing my story. I hope this helps anyone feeling unsure or overwhelmed or lost or guilty.

Thank you for all of this, darling. I'm so sorry you have so much experience with grieving. But your insight is so helpful. ❤️

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

After doing some thinking on this, I think the most interesting movie in the Creed-Rocky universe is “Creed II”:

While most of the movies in the franchise are good, Creed II fascinates me since it’s actually different in how it approaches the main conflict. Most of the movies follow the same formula of underdog boxer must triumph over superior opponent, while Creed II feels more focused on the behind-the-scenes drama and history.

This movie could’ve easily just been a revenge story. Adonis wants to avenge his dad, so he beats up the son of his dad’s killer. However, it feels like the writers of the movie wanted to dig deeper into this. While the revenge story would be simpler and more theatrical, Creed II instead asks the audience how this would be realistically.

And the answer is…really sad, actually.

You’d think that Adonis would be at Kill Bill-levels of vengeful, but he’s not. Instead, he’s more frustrated by how he’s expected to want to avenge his father. He just became world champion and yet the media is only talking about him fighting Viktor Drago. Even Donnie admits you can’t talk about the Creeds without talking about the Dragos. Sure, he does resent Ivan, of course he would. But he doesn’t have a beef with Viktor, and it shows.

Viktor wasn’t doing any better. Although he was trash talking Donnie, you can tell how frustrated he was with how he was being used to “restore” Ivan’s honor. He hated how the Russian leaders, especially his mother, were only treating him and his father well after he started winning in the ring. None of it felt genuine, it’s like he was just a racehorse to them.

When you look at Donnie and Viktor’s arcs as a whole, it’s fascinating just how the arcs work as an overall discussion on legacy. Legacy ends up being the true villain of the movie:

1) Donnie can’t establish his own legacy since he’s chained to his father’s legacy. Even though he has the belt, no one cared. They just wanted the spiritual successor to Apollo vs. Ivan.

2) Viktor was literally raised in hardship because of what happened to his father in the 1980s. Then, he realized he was being used as a way to restore his father’s legacy, which disgusted him.

3) For both Adonis and Viktor, neither of them harbored any actual hate to each other. Any feelings of resentment came solely from their fathers’ actions.

4) Rocky wouldn’t even put up pictures of his fight with Ivan, which makes sense since there wasn’t anything uplifting about that match. Sure, he ended the Cold War (lol) but it doesn’t change the fact that the fight was about vengeance.

5) Ivan was so traumatized by his defeat that he felt like he deserved his exiling. Exiled…for losing a damn boxing match. It took nearly losing his son in the ring for him to realize that reclaiming his lost glory was not worth it.

The end fight is, in my opinion, the most interesting showdown in the franchise. Instead of feeling like a battle between a hero and a villain, it felt more…therapeutic? It’s like Donnie and Viktor knew that they couldn’t move forward with their lives until they got this fight over with, so that’s what they do. You can tell there’s a feeling of relief on both ends once the fight finishes since Donnie got the win over Viktor (thus ending the media’s obsession over a Creed-Drago revenge match) and Ivan affirmed to Viktor that he’ll always have his father’s love.

I should note that there’s a deleted scene (it shouldn’t have been!) where Donnie, Viktor, and Ivan all make peace with each other. I feel like that was the point of making this sequel. It’s not a revenge story like what most people thought, it’s a story of healing, past trauma, generational conflict, and moving on from the past. That’s also why Creed III is a brilliant follow-up since, for the first time in the Creed series, it’s a movie that’s about Donnie’s legacy, not Apollo or Rocky’s.

Basically, Creed II treated the fight between the sons of Apollo and Ivan as an obligation that needed to be fulfilled. It’s funny since that actually works as meta commentary on the audience since that was what a lot of people wanted to see when the first Creed movie was announced. Once that obligation was finished, Donnie and Viktor were able to move on with their lives and establish their own legacies, as seen in Creed III.

And that’s kinda beautiful.

[notyourprof]

F1 Explains – 9 November 2023 – Notes/Summary

When Em @powerful-owl first put out her call for primers (what feels like a hundred years ago now), I swore I had just recently listened to a description of what a race weekend was like for drivers on one of my podcasts, almost certainly F1 Explains. I listened back to the two episodes I thought it might be on, and figured I’d go ahead and take and share some notes on everything, in case there is some useful info in there for others. It turns out I had mis-remembered, because the discussion was about what a race weekend is like for media folks, not drivers, but I think it’s still useful because it does give information about what the drivers’ media obligations are.

In general, I highly recommend the F1 Explains podcast (previously called Formula Why), especially to new F1 fans who want to learn more details about the sport. Katie Osborne and Christian Hewgill co-host it, and on most episodes they pick a single topic (e.g. racing in the rain, street circuits, driver training regimens, etc.) and do a deep dive with a few different experts. But they also do semi-regular “quick-fire” episodes where they cover a bunch of questions that maybe don’t need a full episode to answer. Former Aston Martin strategist and current F1 + Sky Sports strategy analyst Bernie (Bernadette) Collins is a regular guest expert on the quick-fire episodes. (She’s also a regular in MY HEART, because she is amazing and wonderful and has the best Irish accent.) There are a few other rotating experts as well, usually from the F1/Sky Sports family.

Anyways, here is my write-up of the answer to the question about what a race weekend is like for media, which was on the episode from 9 November 2023:

Q: What are race weekends like for media and broadcasters? Are there dedicated times the media can speak to drivers? A: F1 is one of the sports where media actually get the most availability of drivers for the media. Thursday is Media Day. Each team puts out a list of times, usually a 5-20 minute window, where TV or print media can come along and ask questions. For TV it’s called a “scrum” where the media are in a sort of arc around the driver with all of their cameras pointed at the driver and they take turns asking questions. Written media is similar. If the driver misses that time for whatever reason, there usually aren’t any backup times. Media can also request one-to-one interviews at a separate time, but that is negotiated and set weeks and weeks in advance. Each team puts aside one hour for media time on a Thursday that includes the TV and written media scrums as well as any one-to-one interviews. Additionally, every weekend there are two press conferences held by the FIA on Media Day. Ten drivers do the press conference with written media where the drivers are all sat together at a desk or on couches answering questions. The other ten drivers do the TV pen, which is a U-shape with all of the TV crews standing around the outside and each driver works their way around the U talking to each TV crew. Each crew gets a maximum of two questions per driver. After each practice session, qualifying, and the race itself, the drivers will do the TV pen again and speak to written media. The top three finishers also do the post-race press conference.

So feel free to use this information when writing fic, but also remember that you don’t have to have all of your facts absolutely perfectly correct! It’s called fiction for a reason!

There were a lot of other interesting questions and answers in the episode, which I also took notes on, and I will put those below the cut. (Read on to find out which driver has Strong Feelings about the roundabouts near Milton Keynes, and which world champions have accidentally pulled into the wrong pit boxes before, LOL.)

Is this the kind of thing that is interesting and useful? I have a summary written up already for the 2 November 2023 episode, because I thought the "what is race weekend like" question might be in that one, but this is already super long. Should I post the notes on that episode in a different post? I can do notes/summaries for other episodes if that's something people are interested in, but I have a bad history of spending a lot of time documenting things in fandom that no one else ever uses or looks at, so I'm trying to...better allocate my limited spare time.

F1 Explains – 9 November 2023 Quick-fire questions with Bernie Collins & Lawrence Barretto

First, a sidenote: Daniel Ricciardo once did a shoey from one of Lawrence Baretto’s shoes. Daniel signed it and Lawrence has it on desk now.

Q: What construction and logistics have to go into a new street circuit, and how to teams prepare for a brand new track?

A: The streets used for the race track have to be re-laid with new tarmac, there has to be coordination with street opening and closing, hotels and other businesses around the circuit, etc. There is a full episode on racetrack design. To prepare for a new track, teams look closely at historical weather data (including temperatures and wind). They’ll load 2D and sometimes 3D scans of the track into their simulators, although often there isn’t full information yet because the final track hasn’t been finished. Lots of simulations and calculations in an attempt to get as much data as they can in advance. There’s also a full episode about how simulators work.

Q: How important is the engine manufacturer? Are they a glorified sponsor that provides an F1-approved generic engine or are there real technical differences between the engines from different suppliers?

A: There are differences between power units from different manufacturers. It also gives them a chance to really stretch themselves and bring in expertise from all around the company (e.g. if they also manufacture jet engines) and to hopefully get some good PR that will lead to more people buying their street cars. In 2023 for the first time, each engine manufacturer showed their engine off to the press to show the differences between each unit. 2023 engine manufacturers were Ferrari, Renault, Mercedes, and Honda. In 2026, Ford and Audi will join as new manufacturers.

Q: Why do drivers and engineers do track walks? Do all teams and drivers do this?

A: Not all drivers do it, some of them will do a run or go out on a scooter. Reasons to do it include looking for changes from last year (new bumps, changes to gravel or curbs (kerbs), etc.) as well as having a bit of uninterrupted time for drivers and their race engineers to talk to each other. Also can be helpful to the commentators/presenters. Helps everyone build/remember their muscle memory of the track if they’ve been there before.

Q: Is F1 using AI? Could it be used for race strategy?

A: Yes, most teams are already doing machine learning in calculations and simulations, but for now human input is still required (and probably always will be).

(Repeating this here because this is where it was in the episode) Q: What are race weekends like for media and broadcasters? Are there dedicated times the media can speak to drivers?

A: F1 is one of the sports where media actually get the most availability of drivers for the media. Thursday is Media Day. Each team puts out a list of times, usually a 5-20 minute window, where TV or print media can come along and ask questions. For TV it’s called a “scrum” where the media are in a sort of arc around the driver with all of their cameras pointed at the driver and they take turns asking questions. Written media is similar. If the driver misses that time for whatever reason, there usually aren’t any backup times. Media can also request one-to-one interviews at a separate time, but that is negotiated and set weeks and weeks in advance. Each team puts aside one hour for media time on a Thursday that includes the TV and written media scrums as well as any one-to-one interviews. Additionally, every weekend there are two press conferences held by the FIA on Media Day. Ten drivers do the press conference with written media where the drivers are all sat together at a desk or on couches answering questions. The other ten drivers do the TV pen, which is a U-shape with all of the TV crews standing around the outside and each driver works their way around the U talking to each TV crew. Each crew gets a maximum of two questions per driver. After each practice session, qualifying, and the race itself, the drivers will do the TV pen again and speak to written media. The top three finishers also do the post-race press conference.

Q: How much interaction is there between broadcasting teams from different countries?

A: A lot. They all see each other regularly so they get to know each other, and they often chat amongst themselves to communicate about what drivers have said to their home broadcasters, because they usually give longer/more detailed answers when they’re speaking in their native language.

Q: How does breaking news get shared with everyone?

A: Press releases used to be printed out on paper and handed out in the Media Center. Now each F1 team has a WhatsApp group specifically for media so they send info that way (e.g. about driver availability for interviews or problems with the cars) in addition to email and social media.

Q: Is there a dedicated space for journalists to write up their race reports?

A: Yes, it’s called the Media Center, there are desks, TV screens, food, and drinks (especially coffee!). The press conference room is in the Media Center as well, adjacent to the work area where journalists can sit and write.

Q: Has Bernie ever had a debrief delayed [when she was a team strategist] due to media interviews running long?

A: Many of the debriefs have been delayed by drivers, and blaming it on the media is an easy out when maybe it was actually the driver who stopped to get a coffee or whatever. Each F1 driver has their own press officer who helps them meet all of their press responsibilities. Often the drivers will talk longer than they are supposed to; Alex Albon and Oscar Piastri are specifically named as drivers who are very good at going off on tangents and talking to the media for too long. One time, Alex spent a good amount of time ranting about the roundabouts in Milton Keynes near the Red Bull factory is based.

Q: How is the order of the garages in the pit lane decided? Are there advantages to being in certain positions and does it play into race strategy?

A: At most tracks, the garages are in order based on how the teams finished in the constructor’s championship the previous year, so over a given season, the garages on either side of your teams don’t change. Sometimes the previous champions are right at the pit lane entry, sometimes near the exit, that depends on the track. If you’re right at the entry, it’s easier to come in and pit (i.e. there aren’t any other team’s mechanics in your way), but more difficult to get back out on track. Near the pit exit, the opposite is true (harder to get in, easier to get out). Depending on the track, it can be helpful to be right near the pit exit (e.g. if you want to get right out on track with clear air in front of you, Bernie mentions Monaco) or further back (e.g. if it’s better to have some other cars go first in qualifying, Bernie mentions Monza). The only exception to the rule of “garages are in order of last year’s championship standings” is Silverstone, where the pit lane is at about the same height as the track in the middle but at either end the pit lane is lower than the track so visibility is impaired. Because of this, the garages in the center (with a good view of the track) are considered most desirable and are thus taken by the top teams.

Christian Hewgill points out how surprising/impressive it is that drivers don’t pull into the wrong pit box more often. For example, at the 2011 Chinese Grand Prix, Jenson Button accidentally parked in the wrong garage and it cost him the lead in the race to Sebastian Vettel. Bernie points out that teams have done a lot of things to help drivers get to the correct pit lanes. It often happens when drivers switch teams (e.g. Lewis Hamilton once went into the McLaren pit when he had just moved to Mercedes, Sebastian Vettel went to the Ferrari pit once after he had switched to Aston Martin).

Q: What is parc fermé? What are the restrictions? How are they enforced?

A: Parc fermé is a period of time in which teams are not allowed to touch their cars or make any changes related to performance, however they can make changes related to safety. It promotes sustainability and rewards teams that do well in practice figuring out what works best for that track. During sprint weekends, teams only have one practice before the cars go into parc fermé, which makes it particularly difficult to adjust the cars to the track. Cars do often get taken apart and reassembled while in parc fermé to check components, clean things, etc., but the F1/FIA scrutineers will put stickers on the car parts to make sure the same parts are used when reassembling the car.

Q: What is an anti-stall? How is it different from a regular stall?

A: (Note that I am basically quoting Bernie verbatim here because I’ve never driven a manual/stick-shift car and don’t understand the details of how they work!) An anti-stall is very similar to a normal stall, but F1 have come up with clever ways to make sure the car engines don’t actually stall. In a regular manual car, if you were to let the clutch out too much or not give it enough throttle and the car stalled, the engine would cut out. At the starting grid, the driver might do the same thing (e.g. not give it enough throttle) and the car might stall, but the engine doesn’t actually cut out. (Another note: it’s not explicitly stated, but I think this is a safety thing so that even if the car stalls and doesn’t get a super fast start, the driver will be able to accelerate pretty quickly after, instead of sitting on the grid unable to move while the cars behind start crashing into the stalled car.)

Q: Why do F1 teams change names?

A: OK I started writing this in a way that makes sense beyond the short answers given on the podcast, but it really needs to be a separate post. The short answer to “why do teams change names?” is money. (Shocker!) 

Sometimes a team that also makes something else wants to promote one of their brands, e.g. Renault rebranding to Alpine, which is Renault’s sports car brand, or Toro Rosso rebranding to AlphaTauri, which is Red Bull’s clothing line. 

Sometimes a team will have a sponsor who pays enough money to be a title sponsor, e.g. Oracle Red Bull Racing or the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team, where Oracle and Petronas are completely separate companies that pay a lot of money in addition to providing relevant expertise to their teams. 

(In the other post, I’ll get into Sauber/Alfa Romeo/Stake/Kick, don’t worry. 😂)

Q: How is the number of laps in a Grand Prix determined?

A: The number of laps for a given circuit is however many laps are needed to get to a 305 km (~190 mi) race distance. The exception is Monaco where the distance is 260 km (~162 mi).

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Sports (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

Balling in Love (ao3) - ticklishpickle

Summary: Dan and Phil are captains of rival soccer teams, and have hated each other for as long as Dan can remember. However, it starts to seem as if Phil is out to win more than just the game…

box boys (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Playing hockey is easy in comparison.

Digging in the sand, looking for gold (ao3) - ShippingFangirl26 (IceQueenJules26)

Summary: When Dan's Beach-Volleyball partner retires, he's not sure how to continue his career. By coincidence he meets the aspiring Youngster Sascha, his best friend Marcelo and physiotherapist Phil, who shakes believes and rules Dan has lived by for all of his life. Suddenly, Dan's life becomes a lot more complicated...

Extra Time (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan had been planning to just hide away and find some WiFi and watch it on his phone, but there Quentin was asking him if he wanted to go to the room backstage and watch it with him and some of the others.

For You (ao3) - notcrazyipromise

Summary: dan and phil as ice skaters at the olympics

i feel a kick down in my soul (ao3) - chickenfree

Summary: “I’m going to obliterate you,” he says, taking a few long steps towards Phil.

Phil runs. It takes him a minute to realize the ball is in the opposite direction.

it just grows sweeter (ao3) - sunflowerwitches (orphan_account)

Summary: in a somewhat canon divergent world were phil can ice skate and dan finally lets him take him on the ice

Keep My Head Above Water (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Dan is the captain of his high school swim team and the sport means more than anything to him. He hopes to be recruited into college so he can continue to swim, however, his plan changes when he fails English. Being tutored by Phil, Dan soon sees that even though he still wants more than anything to continue to swim, he may also want something else too.

Kick Me While I'm Down (ao3) - jerseker

Summary: Dan and Phil meet in an adult kickball league. Phil is just there to make friends. Dan is - not.

Let Go Of The Reins (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan did not want to go home to his parents' house the summer after his first year of studying law - which he was failing at - so when a friend suggested a simple job that would keep him busy for three months and give him a place to live, he couldn't say no. Granted, shovelling horse shit wasn't glamorous and he was afraid of horses, but the Lester Stables had other things going for it.

Phil was newly graduated with a video editing degree and moving home to his parents' horse stables, even if he still would not get back on the horse since what happened earlier in the year. He had a complicated relationship with horses to begin with and he had decided he was done riding. When the new stablehand help arrives, Phil finds himself going out to the stables more often despite trying to stay away.

On Top of the World (ao3) - dnpangels

Summary: Dan Howell is known at Cedar Creek High School for being the star quarterback and for having dated every girl in the junior year. Phil Lester is known for almost always getting the lead in the school play and being a straight-A student. Dan is popular in the stereotypical way, while Phil is popular within the groups that he chooses to be a part of. Another thing that almost everyone knows is that Dan and Phil are definitely not friends.

An AU in which Dan is the school's quarterback, and Phil is a theater kid.

Silver Arrows To The Heart (ao3) - evermorepeyton

Summary: Phil loves his life, he loves being a Mercedes Formula 1 driver and he loves being PJ’s teammate, friend and neighbor. He loves the routine he has going on. He lives in a perfect bubble.

But now that bubble is about to burst when the news that PJ is leaving Mercedes hit the tabloids. And worst of all, his replacement is Red Bull’s two-time world champion Daniel Howell, who has a reputation for having a little bit of an ego.

Phil isn’t exactly happy about this.

To put it lightly, he fucking hates it here.

something to play for (ao3) - spaceandvinyls

Summary: a basketball!au where phil is the school's star player and dan is his best friend, watching from the sidelines. everything changes when the team makes it to state championships for the first time in ten years and dan and phil realize they want something more than friendship.

Speedos and Spikes (ao3) - QuietConspiracy

Summary: Three-time Olympian Phil Lester of Team Great Britain is headed to Rio, determined to focus on the podium and not let anything - or anyone - get in his way.

So why is it, then, that he can't get his (absolutely gorgeous) roommate out of his head?

Straight To Video (ao3) - DisasterSoundtrack

Summary: It’s his face. His eyes, especially. They’re brown, the color warm like melted chocolate, but they’re also vulnerable and terrified, playing into the vibe of the song even better than the dancer’s body, even though he twirls and jumps and spreads himself thin. The real heartbreak is appearing right here, right on the dancefloor, as the dancer sheds a single, perfect tear.

Phil's peaceful, ordinary life takes an unexpected detour into a passionate, forbidden romance with a dancer, Dan.

Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY (ao3) - natigail

Summary: @danielhowell: maybe i’d actually consider doing @bbcstrictly if they allowed same-sex couples. who wouldn’t want a sexy man spinning you around? it’s not just a girl’s dream. c'mon people let's see some pretty and fierce girls pair up and handsome and strong boys get it on. i dare you.

Dan Howell calls Strictly out on Twitter for not allowing any same-sex couples and accidentally volunteers himself to be one of the contestants if they were to change that. It was a joke. It had so clearly been a joke. Why did they take him up on it?! He’s sure he’ll trip over his own feet and hate every second, but then he meets his partner, the endearingly clumsy dancer Phil Lester.

Sweat, Dirt and Collants (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil loves to watch Dan dance

The Hockey Game (ao3) - Jinny12912

Summary: Dan and Phil go see a hockey game while touring through Canada. Dan has too much to drink during the game and needs some help from Phil to make it back home before wetting himself.

The Start of something new (ao3) - apoetacriminal

Summary: Dan is an insecure figure skater and phil is his charming coach…or the yoi au that nobody asked for

the truth is rarely pure and never simple (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: dan is natural athlete, the top player on his college ice hockey team. no one knows that he is actually really smart and is transferred into the Honours Literature class. that is when he meets a literature nerd, phil, who just might be able to give his life a little more importance.

When in Washington (ao3) - dnpangels

Summary: An outsider POV fic about a guy sitting behind Dan and Phil at the University of Washington football game.

[jhutchh19992]

Josh Futturman Christmas- Headcanons

1. Christmas Movie Marathon King

Josh would be all about a Christmas movie marathon, but not your typical Hallmark-style ones. He’d insist on showing you a bizarre mix of classic Christmas films with a few cult favorites thrown in (like Die Hard or Gremlins) to keep things interesting.

2. Gifts That Are Always an Adventure

Josh isn't the type to get you something traditional. He’d probably hand you a gift —like a custom-made sweater or a DVD box set of Star Trek and The X-Files because he knows you’d appreciate the nod to pop culture and weird science fiction references.

3. Ugly Sweater Champion

Josh would absolutely rock the ugliest Christmas sweater you could imagine, but he’d make it work. You’d find him proudly wearing a custom sweater covered in pictures of him and you in a bad Photoshop job.

5. Christmas Eve at Home: A Chill Vibe

On Christmas Eve, instead of a big family gathering, Josh would want to keep it low-key with just the two of you, hanging out in your comfy clothes. He’d make you a very questionable Christmas dinner—maybe a weird fusion of random dishes from different time periods. Picture a Christmas turkey... with a side of futuristic Soylent? Still, the effort would be there, and you’d both end up laughing about the culinary disaster. He’d make sure you’re comfortable, cozy, and feel the love without the fuss.

7. Endless Christmas Jokes and Lame Puns

Josh would be a Christmas pun machine, always coming up with the worst puns related to time travel, Christmas, and your relationship. You’d roll your eyes, but secretly love it when he makes a terrible joke that only the two of you would understand.

9. He’d Totally Be the One Who Still Believes in Santa

Josh Futturman? Definitely still believes in Santa Claus. He’d have a mischievous grin when it comes to Christmas Eve, assuring you that Santa is real.

10. After the Holidays: Reflection and Growth

Josh might not always show it, but Christmas would be a time where he'd get a little sentimental. He’d reflect on how far he’s come, and how much having you in his life has changed him for the better.

11. Unconventional Christmas Traditions

Josh would be all about starting new, unconventional Christmas traditions. Instead of a big, fancy dinner, he might suggest something fun and low-key like a DIY pizza-making night where you both build your own quirky Christmas pizzas (pepperoni snowflakes, anyone?). Or, maybe you two start a new tradition of wrapping each other's presents in a ridiculous way—like wrapping them in newspaper, old maps, or random fabric scraps.

12. Christmas Lights Disaster

Josh would take the Christmas lights way too seriously. After getting all pumped about the idea of setting up the perfect light display outside, he would inevitably get tangled up in the lights, trip over extension cords, and struggle with getting everything to look "just right." But instead of being frustrated, he’d just laugh at himself and keep going, probably convincing you to join in the chaos for moral support.

13. The World's Most Extra Christmas Stockings Josh isn’t the type to settle for normal Christmas stockings. No, no. He’d make sure your stockings are extra in every way—super big, hilariously overstuffed, and probably filled with a weird mix of things like arcade tokens, strange snacks from different parts of the world, and novelty gadgets that you’d never know how to use.

14. Mischievous Elf Mode

Josh would totally embrace the Christmas mischief and be that boyfriend who sets up little surprises around the house. He’d sneakily hide little gifts or notes for you to find throughout the day, maybe in the most random places—like tucked inside your favorite book, or hidden under the pillow.

15. Under the Mistletoe Mischief

Josh would take the tradition of mistletoe to a whole new level. He’d definitely use it as an excuse to kiss you, but he might make it playful, teasing you with slow, lingering kisses before pulling back and whispering something like, “Oh, no, no... I don’t think that was long enough. We need another kiss. And another. And another...” Until you're both wrapped up in each other, tangled in the heat of the moment, laughing and kissing under the mistletoe until it’s more than just a tradition—it’s a steamy ritual.

16. Fireside Seduction

Josh would be the type to set the mood with the fireplace crackling softly in the background. You'd be cuddled up on the couch together, under a thick blanket, with his hand casually resting on your leg. But Josh, being Josh, would always have a bit of mischief in his eyes. Slowly, he'd start teasing you with subtle touches—his fingers grazing the skin of your inner thigh, his lips brushing the back of your neck every time he leans in to whisper something, or even slipping a hand under your shirt just enough to feel your skin. The temperature would be rising as the two of you playfully build up the tension, knowing full well that no one else would be around to interrupt your private Christmas moment.

[starleska]

I am definitely here to find out more about your OC Harper if you wanna share 👀👀👀

oh my god yes yes yes thank you so much Jam i would LOVE to gush about Harper Spiel and their bizarre backstory, thank you so much 🙈💖 Doctor Who OCs are so fun to make!

my dear Harper's story begins right after the events of The Giggle! Harper Spiel is a 26-year-old ludologist, or games specialist: a former world champion in several board games who turned their fascination with games into a lucrative career. previously they worked with the British government investigating high-profile gambling rings and other criminal operations which involved gameplay mechanics! 👀

following The Giggle, UNIT wanted to find out all they could about the Toymaker, and so they hired Harper to create a full report on him...against The Doctor's wishes, and without his knowledge. during their research, Harper discovers that the Toymaker is not an isolated incident: he has cropped up in gaming lore and texts throughout history as a godlike entity no one can win against. most people would steer well clear...but Harper takes this as a challenge 🔥 so, they begin a series of experiments with the Toymaker's Toybox. Harper spends weeks trying to engage the Toymaker without opening the box, attempting to coax him into a game, but comes up short. until they have a mad idea! on their birthday, Harper brings a sand timer to the Toybox, and challenges the Toymaker to emerge before the sand runs out. they have no way of knowing if the game is accepted... until a bang!! then, a flash of light...and the vague image of a grin with far too many teeth, beaming through the fog. when Harper awakes, they are no longer in their own timeline. they are in 1984, in an empty lot where the UNIT building hasn't even been constructed yet! 😱 it takes a few days for the Doctor - specifically the Sixth Doctor - to find Harper, and it's because the TARDIS has become absolutely fixated on London in 1984 and he can't work out why. this leads him to Harper, who the Doctor recognises as a temporal anomaly: a living entity displaced in time who should not be able to exist in this reality, but has been rejected by their own. according to the Doctor, Harper's birthday - originally March 22nd, 1998 - is now March 22nd, 1956...which would make them 65 years old according to their original reality!! if not...that means they're minus 40 💀 the Doctor, horrified by this mess, takes Harper into the TARDIS and tries to bring them back to 2024...but the TARDIS nearly implodes! he then tries every workaround he knows, but something about the game Harper opened up with the Toymaker has caused their own timeline to shun them. like it or not, the only safe place for Harper to exist (at least without increasing timey-wimey shenanigans) is within the TARDIS 😉 so!! Harper gets stuck with the Sixth Doctor, to his chagrin and their delight. Harper is familiar with the Doctor, but only his most recent regenerations, and they take delight in playing off his bombastic, arrogant personality. they're always getting stuck into some part of the TARDIS they shouldn't be, or wandering off and nearly causing a category 5 space-time event. they're a magnet for disaster and time distortion, and it drives the Doctor mad! 🙈 but as funny as their relationship is, there is real grief here. the Doctor soon recognises Harper to be somewhat like him: a scientist whose fascination often overrides their emotions, so the process of understanding that they will never see their friends again (as they have no family to speak of) is tough. it doesn't take long for the Doctor to soften towards Harper...after all, Harper is something which the universe itself is trying to reject. who can relate more to that than the Sixth Doctor, whose regeneration was characterised by fear, anger and feeling like an alien in his own body? aaaand that's Harper Spiel!! unwitting companion to the Sixth Doctor and challenger of the Toymaker 🥰 their adventures would be characterised by them attempting to find some way back to Harper's original timeline safely, with Harper insisting they need to find the Toymaker to make it happen...😭

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How the Bucci Gang Loves (as told by tarot)

tags: gn!reader, headcanons, tarot

a/n: when in writer’s block doubt, tarot headcanon your way out. so i decided to do some more for jjba while working on some fics for a series i really enjoy. in my journey of getting someone i know into jojo, mom2 has finally reached part 5 and she loves it so far. she finds the bucci gang pretty interesting and she loves that they are playing a song by black artists for the first ed. ofc... she seriously questions why they picked jodeci’s horniest song fdfdfsd (sorry mista, everyone gets 4 cards no exceptions lol)

deck: true black tarot

giorno giovanna

the moon, anant, nine of pentacles, the world

giorno isn’t one to buy into cliches and fanciful terms like soulmates or twin flames, but if those connections were to exist, he thinks you come very close to them. to let someone in and see the most intimate parts of himself and be allowed to see the most intimate parts of another person, it can’t be anything less than a bond that goes far beyond mortal comprehension. it can’t be helped either that he wants to spoil you. things you mentioned wanting in passing ー books, food, jewels ー giorno gets them unprompted and relishes the look of surprise and warmth on your face when he presents them to you. he worries from time to time that his position in the gang may land you in the crossfire of any external and internal conflicts passione has, but he vows to keep you safe and believes he is more than able to uphold that promise. marriage likely isn’t far from his mind with such a serious relationship, a proposal will definitely be made in accordance to your preferences once giorno feels that the time is right.

bruno bucciarti

temperance, ten of cups, destiny, seven of cups

bruno believes you’re the right match for him. whether you’re his opposite that somehow matches his personality or someone similar but who brings different perspectives to the table he never considered. he’s experienced loss but by overcoming that loss and continuing to move forward, bruno was able to meet you. there has been many ups and downs in his life since the divorce of his parents and his joining passione but bruno is thankful that his choices in life led to your meeting. his past is just more motivation for him to grow stronger to protect you. he lost his family but now he has the chance to make one with you and his most trusted crew by his side. like giorno, bruno hopes to marry you one day. he’s entertained many times to himself a domestic life with you. a nice house, a few kids if it’s in the cards and many happy moments in between. it’s something that is at the forefront of his mind if a meeting gets too boring and his mind begins to wander. but he is in no rush, content to enjoy whatever phase of your relationship you are currently in. 

leone abbacchio

three of swords, strength, knight of pentacles, the devil

call this man a heavy-weight boxing champion because abbacchio fought tooth and nail to remain in the depths of denial about his feelings for you when he started noticing them. someone like abbacchio doesn’t need a relationship, nor does he deserve one. but once unable to be willfully blind and it’s gotten through his thick skull you want him as much he wants you, abbacchio is a dedicated boyfriend. it doesn’t feel right sometimes, indulging in your relationship after everything he’s done. it feels entirely selfish and he wonders if one day he’ll get his comeuppance and this happiness he has will be taken away. but after a lot of pondering what he would do if that day were to ever come, abbacchio made his decision. just as he fought to deny his feelings for you, he’d fight even harder to keep you. maybe it is selfish and it may even be despicable to others that he would dare to be this happy after everything he’s done, but abbacchio will bear those labels defiantly.

guido mista

the empress, king of wands, za warudo, the sun

flirty he may be, mista is hopeless romantic and when he’s in a relationship the man is on cloud 9. you know, the team knows it and to be honest, the whole of napoli probably knows it. mista’s not ashamed to let the whole world know he’s taken by the most wonderful person ever. should you ever voice your embarrassment and insist he doesn’t have to tell the whole world you’re dating, mista insists you actually gave him the time of day and he isn’t taking that for granted. prepare for many whirlwind dates and finding yourself somewhere in naples you’ve never been, taking in the warm sun and the ocean-scented breeze. even if things somehow go pear-shaped, it’s the fact you went through it together that counts in his eyes. mista is a physical lover and he doesn’t hide it in how he constantly touches you. he likes you and he wants you, but he respects your boundaries and will move at whatever pace you want or will gladly keep his urges to himself for your comfort if it isn’t something you desire personally. for mista, what matters most is that you’re happy and comfortable. he’s a goofball but mista is lot more observant than he looks and is very in-tune to how you feel.

pannacotta fugo

ace of swords, anant, the magician, three of cups

when it comes to the question “who fell first and who fell the hardest”, you fell first and fugo the hardest. it takes a while to get through the walls of rationality and fear of hurting others with his blind rage, but once you do, you find a passionate lover behind it. you’re fugo’s friend always and his partner first and in many ways you help ground him. fugo doubts that his problems with the rage he struggles to keep in check will ever dissipate, but thoughts of you when he is close to snapping tends to help stave off his volatile reactions most of the time. fugo isn’t one to date casually and as such takes your relationship seriously. relationships are give-and-take and fugo does so equally. embarrassing he may find things like pda, if he knows you have a preference for it, he will accommodate those desires in earnest. he simply wants you to be happy and if there is anything you don’t find to your liking fugo urges you to tell him. he can’t rectify a problem if he isn’t aware of one in the first place. he shows his love rather than tells. 

narancia ghirga

eight of wands, the fool, the star, page of cups

narancia falls first and falls the hardest. narancia seldom hides from his emotions, nor does he hide them from othersー as such, your relationship is no exception. he loves you and you know it, he tells you everyday with his words and his actions. you’re probably his first love and he approaches romance with an air of child-like innocence. love is a new adventure and for narancia it is equally as exciting as it is anxiety-inducing. he wants to be with you all the time, but he doesn’t want to turn you off by being clingy. he wants to brag to the world about his awesome partner, but he doesn’t want you getting embarrassed by his bold declarations. in the end though, narancia just follows his heart and let’s everything else fall into place, hoping for the best. trusting others and being unquestionably loyal has gotten him into more grief than he can imagine, but it has also led him to the best people in his life. a pearl is the result of a mollusk defending itself against an irritant with nacre and that result is beautiful. so too are the experiences that make narancia himself.