#Probably comforts him after his dnf

[janesurlife]

So Carlos flew with Lando after Austria.... cool

[missnxthingg]

could you do a lando norris x reader smut with that damn sucker at the austrian grand prix after he DNFed and maybe the reader gets turned on by his frustration and anger.

YOU'RE HOT WHEN YOU'RE ANGRY

Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Warnings: Smut & swearing Words: 1.8K (a shorty, compared to my other works) Author's note: Thank you so much for being so quick with the request. Loved doing this because angry Lando is absolutely hot. Also, found this template for the cover pic and absolutely loved it. It's so different.

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After the crash, Lando was pissed, to say the least. So far, things have been looking good for him this season. At the Austrian Grand Prix, the 11th race of the season, he was the only driver to finish among the points in the grid. But after a streak of almost wins, he crashed his car into Max Verstappen’s at the final laps, having to retire from the race just as he was starting to feel the victory taste between his lips.

He was fuming when he turned off the car in the pits, throwing daggers with his eyes at everyone that crossed him that day. Having to watch the finishing of the race from the garage was frustrating, and the last drop to make him lose it this week. So many almosts, and luck was never in Lando’s favour.

Y/N was gutted for her boyfriend. She had joined him in this triple header because she knew he was feeling very overwhelmed by the season, and it had only got worse after his bitter P2 at the Spanish Grand Prix. That day in Austria, she had been watching it from the garage and was one of the first people Lando met after the DNF. He quickly pecked her lips to find some comfort, but was so angry that didn’t want to be around her to affect her somehow.

Knowing he needs his space when he’s frustrated, Y/N stayed behind and watched Lando do his job. He was talking to his engineers, trying to at least help Oscar with the best outcome of the race, but he was angry, and his face showed. Jaw tense, fire in his eyes, no bubbly smiles. And somehow, that turned her on.

Usually, after bad races like this, she takes her time showering him with love and support through the whole night after the poor result. But Y/N was needy, and seeing him with the droplets of sweat on his forehead, disappointed look on his face and his suit hanging low on his hips were doing things to her. Well, to the point where her panties were soaking wet just by looking at him.

She tried hiding it while they were on track, but Lando noticed she was behaving weird, trying to keep more quiet as they were still surrounded by a lot of more people. He frowned when she tried her best to escape him after the post race media pen, and found it weird again when she changed her behaviour once they were in his driver's room.

He had sneaked away from the crowd a minute before her. Lando closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying to assimilate and calm from what had happened. He was only taken out of his trance when his girlfriend snaked her arms around his waist and started pressing kisses to his jaw. He opened the first genuine smile that day when he finally felt her right there with him.

“Hi, baby”, he said, making Y/N smile to finally have his attention. “I love you so much”

“Always nice to hear that after hours seeing your cranky face”, she said. “I love you more”.

“Probably impossible”, he winked, making her giggle. Then he pecked her lips, feeling easier to have her around, even though he still didn't understand her behaviour from earlier. 

“You good?”, she asked, and Lando sighed.

“I will be”, he assured, holding her a little tighter. “You make me better”.

Y/N smiled at his words and locked their lips together in a sweet kiss. But soon they turned things around into a more steamy make out, that had her palming his cock through his fireproofs. He moaned at the contact, but stop the kiss to see what that was about.

“You were literally avoiding me a few minutes ago, and now you're doing this?”

“I was avoiding you because I was horny, you muppet. Would've come undone right in front of everyone if I didn’t ignore you”, she smirked, making him smile. “But God, you look so hot when you're angry”.

“So you’re taking advantage of my misery?”, he provoked with a smirk, but didn't last long with his boyish behaviour when she started massaging his balls. “Oh, baby, this feels so good”.

“Let me take care of you, my love”, she pecked his lips again, making him smile in response. “Want to turn this day around for you”

Y/N gently pulled him to sit on his couch and kneeled in front of him. Then she took off his fireproofs, leaving him in his underwear between those tiny four walls. But before she could jump into giving him pleasure, he dug his digits on the skin of her waist, pulling her into his lap. She straddled his laps and sunk into him as they made out, trying to make it as silent as possible.

“Need you”, he whined, feeling that his boxers were too thick for his liking. Lando wanted to feel his girl more than anything.

“Let me make you feel good, baby”.

Y/N trailed kisses down his torso, her lips feeling like silk against his skin. Lando felt them burning deliciously through him and urged to feel her touch more and more. When his girl finally pulled his underwear down and wrapped her hands around his base, Norris lost it, throwing his head back in pleasure.

She licked him from up and down, but not doing much to get his relief. Lando was whining and groaning in frustration, but Y/N was taking her time with him.

“Fuck”, he moaned. “Please do something, angel. I need you”.

Y/N decided to grant his wish, popping the tip of his cock inside her mouth. Lando grunted with the move, and moaned louder when she started taking all of his length in her mouth. He could feel him hitting the back of her throat turning him into a mess.

“Baby, your mouth feels so good”, he held her hair away from her face and started thrusting a little into her throat. “Won't last long with you making me feel like this, fucking hell”.

Y/N stood quiet, completely focused on giving him pleasure. But desperate for some relief, she started  clenching her tights, needing some sort of friction between her legs. Lando noticed, and he most definitely didn’t want to leave his girl wanting him just as much as he wanted her.

“Baby, if you want me to continue, you're gonna have to stop”, he groaned, but she didn’t stop, only taking him further into her mouth. “Please, Y/N. Wanna feel your pussy around me”.

Those words had convinced her, who took his cock out of her mouth with a pop. Lando smiled with her move, pulling her by the arms to make her sit on his lap again. Then she kissed him once again, feeling him hard against her legs, and turning her on even more, if it was possible.

“Wanna cum inside you”, he admitted, letting his hand wrap around her throat. “Can I, baby?”

“Only if you bring back that angriness you were showing earlier in the garage”, she smirked. “It was fucking hot”.

“You want rough, uhm?”, Lando smirked once again, adding more pressure to her throat. “Ask for it, angel”.

“Please, Lan. I need you”, she whined, not really able to properly form sentences at his sudden domination. 

Y/N started to grind against his crotch, feeling some relief from her neediness. But most definitely wasn’t enough. So Lando switched their positions, pressing her against the couch and kissing her once again, as if his life depended on it. 

She was wearing a skirt, and Lando easily found access by pulling her tongue to the side. His fingers ran through her folds, making her moan on his mouth, shivering with the contact on her pussy. It felt even better when he started pumping two fingers inside her.

“Oh, Lando”, she whimpered. “So good, baby”.

“You like it, pretty girl?”, he smirked. “Wanna cum for me, uhm? I want you to cum on my fingers”

“Yes, please. Make me cum. I wanna cum, Lan”.

Y/N had been so far gone for Lando through the whole day that she came undone for him in seconds. But only his fingers weren't enough. She wanted to feel his frustration as a whole, pinning her down on the couch and fucking her senseless. 

“Baby, you’re so needy today”, he smirked, gripping on his cock and brushing the tip on her folds. Both of them moaned with the contact, loving to be this intimate with each other once again. “I'm gonna fill you up so good”

“Please, I need it so bad”, she cried.

When Lando finally put it inside her, Y/N immediately threw her arms and legs around him, wrapping herself onto him, needing to be as close as possible to her boyfriend. Together, they setted a firm pace that had them both in sync at giving each other pleasure. He held her by the throat and kissed her dearly as their hips kept meeting over and over again.

Lando transferred all his anger and frustrations onto his movements, loving that Y/N gave him the opportunity to feel better like that. At the end of the day, he would always win if he was with her. He knew that as he kissed her, feeling her pussy starting to clench around his cock.

“Gonna cum again, baby?” Lando asked, and she hummed, trying to nod, but being kept from moving by his hand on her throat. “Hang on, I'm almost there too. Wanna cum together?”

“Yes”.

“Then be a good girl and wait”, he asked, now picking the pace a little bit up, chasing for his high. Lando quickly found it, feeling his veins thicken downstairs and her nails digging on his back. “Fuck, baby, so tight for me. Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Lan. Make me cum”

Lando lowered one of his hands to her clit and rubbed it until she came undone for him. Less than a second later, he filled her up with his own cum, finally letting his weight collide over her body. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Lando and kissed his temples, trying to catch her breathing once again. He relaxed under her touches and pressed kisses to her collarbones as they laid in silence.

“I love you so much”, he said. “Thank you for this. For being my biggest supporter”

“I love you too. And I'll be here for you through the bad and good days”, she assured. “And will suck your cock every time you look pretty when throwing a tantrum”.

They giggled with her statement, sinking into each other, wanting nothing more than to just stay cuddled together, even though they knew they should get going. After all, they had a flight to England to catch.

“So… round two at the plane?”

Lando's taglist - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @carmenita122 @lqvesoph @poppyflower-22 @logischeroktopus @saturnbloom77 @formulaal @taisferrari-blog @eclipsedcherry @readingbringsjoy @kenzieyeballs @alilcloudy @eringaitskill @Honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @laiba26 @marialovesf1 @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @likedbygaslyy @notturloverr @c-losur3brizzy-xogorgrussell @loveofmylife12 @morketheduck @kravitzwhoree @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @phantomxoxonoobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambc @amorydsmt @slytherinholland @hstylesmermaid @harrysdimples05

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 16/10/2024 Charles Leclerc - FaceFucking

Plot: Charles always takes his frustration out on you after a bad race.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, facefucking. Blowjob, sex etc 18+ Minors DNI

The weekend hadn’t started of great, it was a wet one and Charles wasn’t confident going into FP1 coming out with a mediocre place and not pushing as much as he could have. Going into FP2 and he pushed to much, skidding off into the gravel and destroying the floor of his car.

FP3 and he was nervous to damage the car before qualifying, so took it slower on the Intermediates as it wasn’t as wet as it had been. And finally Qualifying where he’d had his lowest result of the season in P11.

Even thought you’d tried to be there for Charles it was difficult, he wasn’t the easiest person to cheer up on a frustrating race weekend.

The race itself is as horrendous. You sat watching from the garage wrapped up in a Ferrari hoodie that was Charles but the weather was much colder than anyone had anticipated.

You were biting your nails the whole time, watching the call outs of when to switch tyres and where he needed to improve. Until Piastri comes up behind him, going for the overtake, you watch as Charles defends but ends up confused at the margins because of the spray back and sends him and Oiatri into the wall causing a red flag halfway into the race.

You watch anxiously as Charles angrily gets out the car and the medical car picks them up and takes them back as all the other cars start to come into the pit lane.

A DNF …

He wasn’t happy, whatever and you could tell by the way he’d stormed though the garage to Fred to talk to all the mechanics and engineers about what had happened.

You remain in your place watching as the race resumes cheering with Rebecca for Carlos as he managed to get himself up into P1.

“Drivers room, now” Charles says as he slips past you, all you can do is scoff. He hadn’t spoken to you properly for the whole race weekend and now he wants to? You didn’t think so. You stayed with Rebecca, watching until the end of the race. And just to spite him even more you go to the podium celebration where Carlos, Lando and Max are all on the podium celebrating their wins.

“I should probably go find Charles, but have fun out at the club tonight yeah? Tell Carlos I’m proud of him!” You smile at her, squeezing her wrist in a happy and comforting manner before forcing your way through the podium crowds and getting back to the Ferrari motor home.

You anxiously make your way in, not knowing what state you’ll walk in on Charles in.

You’d kind of poked an already angry bear and didn’t want to know the consequences quite yet.

You got to his Drivers room, lightly knocking on the door not wanting to invade his privacy despite having been together for years, it still felt wrong to just walk in.

“Go away” a gruff voice commands

“Charlie it’s me, please let me in?” You ask hoping that he will come and unlock the door that you’d just tried the handle on. After some stomps and the sound of the door unlatching you’re pulled into the room, a small yelp coming from your mouth as you practically fall into your boyfriend.

“Where were you? I told you to come here” he says grumpily looking over you to see you looking a little guilty.

“Look I wanted to watch the end of the race as the team was winning” you explain pulling him in to you so you can kiss up his jaw in an apologetic sort of way.

“No no no, they weren’t! The team wasn’t winning because I didn’t get points I didn’t even make podium” he argues a face full of fury.

“You’re not the only Ferrari driver Charles! Carlos won today and I wanted to watch his podium to support him and Rebecca” you argue and he just scoffs.

“What about me! What about MY support huh?” He argues and you are quiet for a second realising he does in fact have a point.

“You’re a grown ass adult Charles, you don’t need me here 24/7 because my god you have barley spoken to me this weekend” you admit.

You guys just stare at each other for a few seconds before you both let a sigh release from you, still holding eye contact with one another.

“Fucking come here” he grunts out, before pulling you in not waiting for you make a choice and smashing his lips against yours. He holds the back of your head his fingers tangling in your hair.

He forces you down on your knees, he pulls his pants down his cock springing up and hitting his fresh team shirt that he’d put on after his post race shower.

“I’m in charge alright?” He asks and you just nod.

“Use your words” he commands and before you can reply you gulp back.

“I understand” you say and he remained standing which confused you. You get tell he wanted a blowjob, but he normally sat down so he could lean back and fully relax and take it all in.

“Gonna fuck that pretty face so good” he groans looking over you, tracing a finger off your already puffy lip from the kiss full of frustration you’d shared earlier.

Charles had actually never been this aggressive with you. But there was something about it, you on your knees below him, his cock looking as red and angry as him right in your eye line.

“Open up” he asks and you do, he grips the back your hair into a ponytail to hold you in place, before he helps himself into your mouth. He sinks in, and starts a slow pace, not going all the way in to help you adjust.

He holds the back of your head still before he starts to pound his cock, his pelvis hitting the tip of your nose and his cock forcing its way deep down into your throat.

A moan comes from you vibrating on him making his thrusts into your mouth become more erratic.

“That’s it. Feel so good” he moans holding your head as his hips snap in and out with vigor. His grip on your hair is so tight, your scalp starts to burn from the pressure.

You start to tap out on his thigh with how quickly he’s going tears are building in your eyes and you can feel yourself start to gag around him.

He stops, holding himself there for a second as he looks down at you, seeing you try pulling away before you lets you come of for a breath.

“Fucking hell Charles” you laugh out looking up at him. He gives you a small look before pushing back in.

He was pressing into you more as he groans and shoots his load down the back of your throat which you struggle to contain and swallow.

“Fuck” you groan as he pulls your hair back to get you off him.

He lifts you up, pulling your panties to one side and slipping in with ease on how worked up he’d gotten you just from fucking your face with so much energy and passion.

You were both incredibly worked up that he was cumming for the second time and you were tightening around him with a vice grip. Your hands in his hair tugging on the end locks.

“Fuck I love you so much”

“I love you too, I’m so sorry about this weekend I wasn’t nice to you” he says and you nod.

“I know but it’s okay. I understand” you say placing a kiss on his lips as you hell him pull out and jump down.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[pha55ed]

Bam Yang Gang | F1/F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: h/c, fluff tw/cw :: imposter syndrome (kimi), contains :: kimi!, carlos, paul request :: hi! i wanted to request the bam yang gang prompt for carlos and paul along with kimi, these are tough and trying times for us sainz and aron fans 😭🥲 (yessss! my favs from both series!!! and ik :( well get through it tho,,, i hope) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

He didn't lose the race, he did much better than others - but he was still harsh to himself. He got P14, which wasn't god awful since he beat many drivers. But compared to his other results, he was so disappointed with himself. He didn't even want to speak to you out of embarrassment from his results.

But you just have to force yourself in, since he most likely won't talk to anyone. So when you knock gently on his driver's room door, sneaking in, he tries his best to turn away from you. He doesn't like pity or false-comfort.

His results mean the world to him, there's always so much pressure on him. Although he basically has a good future secured within Mercedes, he's still terrified of it being ripped away from him one day. He feels a constant pressure to perform at his peak, to prove his worth to the world.

Imposter syndrome is something he feels often, he just never opened up about it to anyone. Anyone but you. You knew the best way to help was to assure him that it was just one bad race, not a bad career.

Staying near him and reassuring him he has more races is the best thing you can do. He likes cold hard facts over emotional help. So instead of saying he did amazing, tell him how he almost got fastest lap or tell him how his average position is still around P7.

Also, acts of service helps him as well. Taking any stress off of him that you can makes him feel special, he sees all the effort you put into making him feel better. So, cleaning his driver's room, fixing his hair, or wiping that gross sweat off his forehead means the world to him.

Carlos Sainz | 55

The race was going great for him, he was staying in P2 which was amazing compared to his last races. But it went downhill so fast when he unable to control his steering wheel, making him crash into the barrier and DNF. The entire car was broken, wheels popped off, metal scraps flying everywhere, and even a small baby fire that went out on it's own. The crash was scary, but wasn't his biggest crash.

To say he was disappointed was an understatement. He was angry, disappointed, guilty, and so much more. Instantly, he just ran to his drivers room, wanting to lock himself out of everyone. But when you come in the room, he's unable to say no to you.

The best way to comfort him is just remind him of all his good wins and achievements. His self doubt will build up if you don't remind him of how amazing he is. Physical touch also calms him down and reassures him more.

"You did amazing, Carlos" You say as you brush his sweaty hair to the side and plant a kiss on his forehead.

"You don't need to lie to me." He says as he tries to gently push you away, but you knew he wanted you close. "I was so close to winning, so close..."

"You'll be even closer next time Carlos, you've been improving every race!" You say, knowing you had to stroke his ego a little, "You started in P9 and went up to P2! Who cares if you DNF, you'll probably be driver of the day."

"Ah, I don't care about driver of the day." He says with a hand wave, but you could see the small relaxation his eye muscles made, softening his eyes. You knew he didn't mind the idea of being driver of the day.

"This is just one bad race! Think about Austria or Monaco! Those were great" You say, playing with his hair slightly despite the sweat. You see him give a small smile as he remembers those races.

It was a constant back and forth, of him downplaying himself and you. reassuring him. You knew he already felt better, but you could tell he just wanted more praise for his hard work.

Paul Aron | 17

After Silverstone, Paul was a mess. Mentally, he was screwed - but physically he was doing his best to hide it from others. He knew it was "just a race" but it means so much more to him. He doesn't just want to win, he needs to. With so much pressure to succeed, no academy behind him, and his family pouring this money into this dream of his: he feels the guilt and pressure to succeed 100 times more than any other driver.

He locked himself into his drivers room, too scared to lash out at someone or even worse, cry in public. But you sneak in, how could you not? Seeing him so stressed out would worry anyone.

When he sees you, he can't help but try and hide away for a bit. He needs space for some time to gather himself and assure himself first. It's nothing against you, he loves your company and reassurance, but he also likes to assure himself. His mental is surprisingly calm and collected despite how chaotic life can be.

Once he's ready to face you, most likely after 10 or 20 minutes of being alone, he'll want to move on from the topic. He's not one to dread on the past much and focusses more on the future. The best way to help him is to mention the race once, only once. Otherwise he'll start to think about the race again and feel embarrassed.

Something that helps him is physical touch and quality time. So after the race, just shower him in kisses and hugs and then take him to dinner. He's a very spoiled boyfriend, he is 100% part of the sassy-man apocalypse but he just hides it well

"Thammk you" Paul says in a mumble as you continue to drown him in kisses all across his face. He can't help but smile as you continue to go insane on his face, like a wood pecker. As you pull your head back to take a breathe, he gives you a rude side eye. He clears his throat dramatically, "I didn't say stop, did I?"

He says as he places his hands on your waist, making you sit on his lap as you continue to drown his entire face in kisses. He doesn't even care if you have lipstick or lipgloss on, if anything he prefers it. It makes him smile to see all of those kiss marks on him, it fuels his ego slightly.

[sofs16]

let you break my heart again —5

sof speaks ! i’m alive.

taglist @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg @cmleitora @annie115 @valntynebaby @mrosales16 @d3kstar @stopeatread @chimchimjiminie16 @viennakarma @peqch-pie @scaramou @daniellarogers @yourbane @maplesyrupsainz @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @blueflorals @c-losur3

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♫ right where you left me - taylor swift

yn.yln

liked by bawsixteen, landonorris, and 817,228 others

yn.yln Sometimes things just work out 🧡

view all 37,493 comments

ynslover MOM’S FIRST DAY!! ❤️‍🩹

[liked by yn.yln]

kylie_yln ❤️❤️❤️

user1 ORANGE FOR PAPAYA? ⤷ yn.yln I am not biased ⤷ landonorris Sureee

user27 what the fuck

march 26, 2018

liked by 372,373 others charles_leclerc Ciao Melbourne ! P13 today in the race. Very happy about our first race of the season, and had a lot of fun with the 3 overtakes on track. Huge amount learnt and we maxed out what we had this week-end. Can't wait for Bahrain to keep improving in the same way! p.s. second photo was my first race❤️

view all 37,102 comments

user1 IS THAT YN YLN IN THE 2ND PIC AT THE SIDE?

it had been 17 out of the 21 races that season and surprisingly, no interactions between you and charles.

the japanese grand prix changed that. charles, frustrated with his dnf, saw you in the paddock and a small smile started to form at the comfort you brought. he walked your way but halted when he heard two male voices, ones you could clearly hear yourself.

“she’s nothing but a slut, she doesn’t deserve to be a presenter” one laughed, glancing your way as you fiddled with your paddock pass and minded your own business. “yn probably slept her way here, pretty face tough” charles was already fuming “pretty is an understatement; she looks like one of those por-“ charles spun the man around, landed a punch on him. a little dramatic on his end, but he couldn’t contain the anger and disgust from the words he was hearing.

the other guy grabbed charles by the shirt and landed a good punch, his ring making a cut in his forehead.

you turned around with a gasp, sparing no time to get charles away. this could go worse if he stayed there. you grabbed his hand and dragged him to his driver’s room, turning back to see the reporter already cursing profanities very loudly to everyone.

charles gave you directions in to his driver’s room in alfa romeo, ignoring the looks they were both getting in the garage. a tv reporter dragging their rookie driver, who had a bruise forming, by the colar.

after getting the first aid kit, you got him sat down on a chair. charles was mustering up the words to say; he hadn’t exactly planned this to be the scenario where he’d first talk to you. “it’s your rookie year and you got into a fight because of me” you spoke first, inspecting the damage and grabbing a pack of ointment “yes” he replied simply, rubbing his fist softly.

“you cant do that charles” you scolded, grabbing one of the cold coca-cola cans and placing it against his fist. an all too familiar bracelet hanging just above his hand. “i did it for you, no one should say those things about you” your moves flattered “it’s not the first time” you chuckled, licking your lips.

“it shouldn’t be” you held the ice bag to his forehead and looked at him properly. you wouldn’t and couldn’t do this again. he stared at your necklace that spilled out from your blouse. the same necklace he had given you all those years ago.

you followed his eyes and stepped away, tucking the necklace back inside your shirt. you cleared you throat “don’t do this again. if you break your hand…” you paused and scrunched your face at the thought “you wont be able to drive, charles” you sighed heavily and he just continued staring at you “i’m going to get a clinic here.” and the door shut, leaving charles with a tight chest, wishing he said more.

— texts with gigi

october 7, 2018

gigi🪬🤍🫧

damn

Is it true Charlie boo got a 10 grid penalty for punching that reporter?

ynn 🎧🎀⭐️

unfortunately

gigi🪬🤍🫧

why unfortunately

ynn 🎧🎀⭐️

because now i feel like i owe him something and he got hurt, got a cut

gigi🪬🤍🫧

it’s not like you asked him to punch, right?

RIGHT?

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

YEAH I WOULDNT ASK HIM????

sometimes I contemplate going back to vogue. they told me if i stayed a little longer i’d secure a job.. forever…

gigi🪬🤍🫧

aren’t you happier there

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

yeah but this is all because of him. f1 is like.. him. i know the more time we spend together all the moving on i did will wash away

gigi🪬🤍🫧

is he single?

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

GIGI

gigi🪬🤍🫧

WHAT

It doesnt hurt to ask 😜

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

I think he is..

But it doesn't matter. He doesn't like me like that and I need to accept that.

gigi🪬🤍🫧

Did he message you after you left?

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

Good question…. I maybe changed my number..

gigi🪬🤍🫧

🫥

october 23, 2018

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

Oh

gigi🪬🤍🫧

WHAT THE FUCK

IS THAT FROM??

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

Yes. 😭

gigi🪬🤍🫧

he does have moves 😎

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

This isn’t funny, Gigi!!!!! What do I dooooooooooo

gigi🪬🤍🫧

IS THERE A CARD?

IF YEAH WHAT DOES IT SAY

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

“loving you is never a mistake. never let anyone make you think that. you are perfect either way :)”

Has significance by the way

gigi🪬🤍🫧

Righttt. The letter you left him. I say send him flowers back

ynn🎧🎀⭐️

He just followed me on Instagram again

gigi🪬🤍🫧

i say follow him back

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,583,181 others

yn.yln 🏎️

view all comments

user1 charles in the likes????

user2 charles throwing a punch for her😭😭😭😭

user3 are charles and yn dating

landonorris you’ve got something on your face

⤷ yn.yln thanks! it’s my beauty ❤️

⤷ landonorris I mean you’re not wrong ⤷ user4 👀

october 8, 2018

f1gossipb

liked by 6,373 others

f1gossipb okay but HEAR ME OUT! view all 273 comments l4ndolov3r “i mean you’re not wrong” 😭😊 SORRY YNCHARLES, I SAY YNLANDO

october 8, 2018

MON, OCTOBER 8, 2018

charles_leclerc

Hello, Yn 👋 Just wanted to ask if you received the flowers I sent you.

yn.yln

Hi, Charles :)

I did get the flowers… I’m sorry, I was going to thank you, but I got busy.

You really didn’t need to get me them or anything

I should be the one sending you something for the trouble you got in

Sorry for the penalty you got…

Thank you for the card by the way

I really appreciate it

sorry for the spam… good night

TUES, OCTOBER 9, 2018

charles_leclerc

Don’t apologize for the spam of messages, I like it. Nor the penalty, I would do it again without a second thought.

Not get the penalty! I meant punching that reporter who talked about you.

And I’m glad you got the flowers and card; I really mean what I put there. I missed you.

yn.yln

I missed you too

charles_leclerc

Would you like to go to this Harry Potter exhibition with me this Thursday?

I know you like those movies

yn.yln

I’m a little busy, Charles. Maybe next time?

charles_leclerc

Of course:) See you tomorrow

[tellyouily]

i'll take you all the way

dnf - fluff - late night conversations - 792 words

just dnf talking about silly things late at night and being very soft about it as per usual

my first dip into writing in a long while – i hope you enjoy!! :)

Credits start to roll on George’s laptop screen, and Dream lets his eyes fall shut to the familiar outro music. George’s warmth leaves him when he sits up to move the laptop onto the floor, and Dream is tired enough to try to pull him back immediately.

“Okay, chill,” George huffs, but Dream ignores it, burying his face in the back of George’s neck as soon as he’s lying down again.

“What even is that show?” Dream mumbles, his words muffled. “It’s ass.”

“It’s not,” George insists. They’ve had this discussion before, and Dream usually doesn’t win. Either way, he is happy to watch almost anything that George wants if it’s late enough and the day has been long enough.

George shuffles around and pushes at Dream’s shoulder gently, urging him to lay down flat so George can lay his head on his chest. “I think you like it subconsciously.”

Dream hums. Maybe he does—he honestly couldn’t name one detail of any episode they’ve watched. Mostly because he has been half– if not fully asleep for all of them. He closes his eyes and absentmindedly slips just his fingertips under the band of George’s sleep shorts.

“Dream.”

“Mm?”

“Do you think people actually have good sex on their honeymoons?”

“Wh–” The absurdity of the question makes Dream laugh despite the exhaustion in his limbs. “I don’t know—how would I know that?”

He can only assume that he missed something to do with this in the episode, but if he’s honest it could just as well be taken completely out of thin air. George shrugs, “You know things.”

Dream tries to picture it—the first night together between a married couple. “I mean, I’d assume not,” he says eventually.

“Why?”

Dream sinks slightly into the hand playing with his hair, feeling so comfortable that he could slip away to sleep in less than a minute if he wanted.

“‘Cause you’d be tired from the wedding and the dinner and all of that,” he replies anyway, because George asked.

“And there’d be so much pressure,” he adds.

George hums thoughtfully.

“Plus… you’d probably both be super drunk, and like, overexcited.”

Dream fidgets with the fabric hem between his fingertips, his thumb grazing the soft skin of George’s stomach. He’s been getting toned this past year and Dream is as obsessed with it as he is with everything George-related: very .

“Also, some people save their first time for their wedding night, right? And that sex just… can’t be good. There’s no way.”

George snorts, which makes Dream laugh, too.

“Why is that funny?”

“Just is,” George says with another shrug. “Why do you know everything?”

Dream noses at soft curls. “I don’t, idiot.” He slides his hand across George’s stomach, “I just know the answers to your stupid questions.”

George laughs, carding his fingers through Dream’s hair and trailing them down to his ear, his jaw. His thumb ghosts Dream’s bottom lip, pressing into it once.

“We’d both fall asleep early,” he predicts after a moment.

Dream smiles, because George is probably right. “Yeah.”

Silence envelops them then, and Dream feels like he’s punishing himself when he reluctantly draws his hand away from George and pokes one leg out from the duvet. He turns to George, “I have to go put Patches in her room."

George sighs and stretches, and Dream leans in and kisses his face at random before getting up. "I'll be right back."

The tiles in the hallway are cold beneath his feet and it might just be how tired he is, but not being in his bed right now hits him like physical pain. It hurts enough to make him hurry up, beelining for the room he knows Patches is in.

His office is her favorite room in the house as much as it’s his least favorite right now. Both because it’s a room without his warm bed that currently has George in it, and because Fusion is slowly making him lose his mind. He finds Patches curled up into herself in her usual spot in his office chair, and lifts her carefully into his arms to take her to her room.

She would wake them all up at four a.m. if they let her roam free, so getting her a room was the compromise. That is, a room with food, water, a litter box, soft blankets, and a cat door she hasn’t realized (yet) that she can use whenever she wants.

Back in his own room, Dream has never been so ready to let sleep overtake him. He slips back under the sleep-warm covers, and smiles when George – already dead asleep – immediately melts to his side.

If their honeymoon ends anything like this, he couldn't be happier.

[ray935sworld]

The right kind of comfort

This story is based on a very funny post by @yeastinfectionvale that I took a little to serious. I may have misunderstood the assignement and my brain came up with this story so... I hope you enjoy it anyway!

And shout-out to @hotmessmaxpress for explaining to me how to do the under the cut post. Thanks again.

Summary: Bez crashed in Assen and gets his d sucked by Valentino Rossi. But is that really what he needs or who he needs? (Hint Bez x Marc at the end) 3.4k words

Don't like it, don't read it. Continues under the cut and on AO3.

Story includes a negative self-view while dealing with insecurites. Please don't read if this may trigger you

A DNF. Another fucking DNF after Le mans. He had one podium back in Jerez and beside that had to be grateful to even have made it to P6. He had to get used to P14, P11 and P13. And he was regular outscored by his teammate. The year before Bez already had 2 wins before Assen and had lead the championship for 2 races. Now he was lucky to get points. He was fighting against Raul Fernandez in the championship standings for P11, with just 6 points separating them. If he had known that when he was 3rd last year, he probably would have laughed in disbelief.

What had happened? What had happened to him? Why had his performance suddenly drop drastically when he was still working hard? He was still trying his best. Now it was his cursed reality. He was doing everything. He put in the work to figure out what his problem was but it ended up being worthless. Whenever he thought he had made progress, he got in the race and messed up. Every time.

With more self-doubt than ever, he headed back to the garage. Technically his bike was still running and he wasn’t hurt – beside his pride. But he knew if he continue, he would just damage the bike further and he didn’t had to put his mechanics through the troubles. So he went back, keeping his head low. He tried not to face them.

His mind was screaming at him. They were disappointed in him. They had to. He kept messing up their hard work. He didn’t deserve being part of the team or even being in MotoGP. He should just go back home and beg his father to give him a job in his shop. He could hide in shame in the back and work on some cars, never to be seen again. Maybe that wasn’t the worst idea after all. No more cameras, nasty comments and he wouldn’t disappoint everyone the way he does now.

He felt random hands on his shoulders, trying to encourage him. Fake. Someone told him it was okay. It wasn’t. They said that he was just struggling. He’d soon make his comeback and show them what he is really able to do. Lies. They didn’t actually believe he could do it. They didn’t thought he was a good rider. They didn’t believe in him. They just had to say it. After all, his action determined how their work was depicted. So if they fucked him up further, they would hurt their own career. Right? So they needed him to perform. And every basic psychology said that talking shit about someone who trust you was the worst thing to do.

He sat down for a moment. He pretended to listen to his mechanic, just nodding along but in reality, he was trying to down the voices in his head. Valentino Rossi – a god a motorcycle racing – had thought he was good enough to be trained by him. Maybe he was wrong. He had gave him a place in his team. Twice. For 5 years he was in one of his teams. And now he was messing up his last year with them. How he managed to secure that god damn Aprilia contract was still a mystery to him. He didn’t actually deserve it. He would disappoint them too. They wouldn’t renew his contract, maybe even replace him during the season and he wouldn’t find another bike cause no one was as stupid to give him a chance. Not when so many talents were currently competing and already knowing on the door from Moto2 and Moto3. HE wanted to cry at the thought of having to give his dream up that early. After only a few seasons in MotoGP, he’d be forced out. He wanted to cry. He felt tears in his eyes and just as he was about to wipe them away he heard his head mechanic say “I think you should get changed and take a break. We will have a debrief later and talk about how to improve. Alright, Marco?”

He nodded. He wasn’t of any use anyway. He couldn’t even handle a debrief right now. How was he supposed to handle a bike?

He somehow ended up in his motorhome. He didn’t really remember the way there, just that he had hurried and did everything not to be seen. Luckily most people where watching the race so he could easily slip away.

He opened the door and the first thing he felt was the way his heart broke. He felt it deep in his chest. His tears started flowing and he pressed his back to the door. A sob left his lungs. He was crying and he wished he wouldn’t know whose hand it was when someone lifted his chin. But he knew.

He didn’t had to know to recognize how the skin felt on his. He looked up. He didn’t want to. “That was a stupid one” his mentor whispered. He almost cried harder but instead forced a laugh. “At least I’m young enough to actually compete” he shot back.

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he had started to cover up being hurt by attacking back. Maybe he had just started to copy his behaviour on track to off track. He really just wanted to break down and cry but right now, with Vale’s hand on his cheek, there was no way out. He could push him back and ran of course. Vale certainly wouldn’t stop him. But why would he? Wasn’t that man in front of him his gay awakening, the one he had jerked off when he was a teenager. Wasn’t he everything he wanted in moments like this?

It’s not like he had lost his looks since Bez was 17. He was still hot. Probably even hotter. And an orgasm was a good way to get ride of his thoughts.

“At least I was actually able to compete” The words felt like a knife was pushed in an already open wound. So Vale truly didn’t believe he was able to compete at the top? He swallowed when he felt his until then closed legs been pushed apart.

He smiled while sitting down almost pressed against his crotch. His grin wasn’t the one that Marco was used to. It wasn’t the kind Vale smile he usually had when the academy was together at the ranch. It was the one that made him feel like he was nothing more than prey for a wild animal. Like there was no purpose for him other to get fucked right there and then, on the floor of his motorhome.

As if he had read his thought, Rossi put his hands on him. His finger tips started to touch the neck of his suit. He was playing with it. “But what you are currently doing… It’s just sad to watch” He felt tears return to his eyes and his mind racing. All the thoughts he had tried to get ride of were suddenly back again. They were stronger. “Pathetic… Fighting for… What was it? P14? P15?” His hand were on his suit. He felt them burning through the white leather. His left hand was holding his hip in place. His right hand was on his zipper. He opened it painfully slow.

Bez let out a whine. He didn’t enjoy this kind of intro. Of course he liked foreplay, but not in sticky cloth, when his body was full of sweat and he felt like he was starting to cry if he didn’t got distracted. And he needed hands on his naked body not on the fucking zipper. “One or two points while Digga is on the podium keeping Marquez behind him. And you fail to stick to those few spare points.” “I’m sorry” he forced himself to say. He looked up again. He stared at him, refusing to break the eye contact first. “I made a mistake, okay?! I’m sorry” he defended himself. His mind didn't got quieter. It got louder with each of his words.

Skilled fingers found their way under his leathers. “I know” he said, there was no love in his voice. No kindness. No comfort, not real one. “And I know you wanna do better” “I… I do” That’s how it regularly went. “It’s just frustrating and I feel so-“

Vale’s fingers felt burning hot on his already warm skin. He pushed the material away from his shoulder and his lips silenced him. Kissing Valentino had long lost the feeling of unfamiliarity and strangeness. Back in 2022, it was an unusual, somehow excited feeling to be noticed like that by someone like him. Now that the hero bliss had worn off a little more – after seeing him naked and getting fucked by him regularly. The need to get ride of his thought was more dominant now. And there was no better way than this… Right? So why push him away? He smiled.

Instead he closed his eyes. He knew it wasn’t what he really needed but it was close enough. So he finally shut his mind up when he felt Vale’s hand in his hair. It glided over a pat of his forehand and buried itself in his curls. He felt his nails tear in his scalp. He moaned in the kiss at the sensation. Vale grabbed a big hand of curls at the back of his head and used it to pull his head back. At the same time his other hand added pressure to his still clothed dick.

Their lips parted with a needy sound. Bez heard an unplaceable sound leave his lips when he obligated Vale’s gesture and let his head fall back. He felt the wall of his motorhome against his head and it reminded him that they were still on the floor. Not that he cared. Not when he felt Vale kissing his throat. Once. Twice. Three times. Then the other side. One. Two… Three. Then he moved to his chest. For a moment he kissed his ribcage. He barely felt it. It was just a short, light kiss on his skin.

“Va-Vale-“ he didn’t even know himself what he was about to ask. “Mmmh?” “Please” he whined in a high voice. He felt needy. An embarrassing red colour painted his cheeks. “Awe” Vale mocked him. His chin hit the abs of the younger one as he looked up. He had put his head on his stomach to smile at him. “Don’t worry” His smile was not as cold as before. Instead there was a fire. Like he was playing a game and knew he was winning. “I got you, Marco. Don’t I? You’ll be a very, very good boy for me and let me take care of you so you can perform again”

He spoke his name so softly that Bez felt a sense of pride rise. He quickly nodded. Yes. Yes, he wanted that. He needed to be taken care of so he could perform again. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe the thing between them wasn’t as cold as he thought. Maybe there was passion and this whole foreplay was just how Vale was. Maybe he liked it. Bez could deal with it. No problem.

Vale’s hands had by now left his hair and were wandering over his body. He caressed his skin like it was treasure. “Oh Marco, you’re still so beautiful” he whispered.

He quickly grabbed his hips, like he was afraid he would run away or leave as if this was now an option. Bez felt the heat between his legs grow. Blood was rushing south way faster now that the older man’s hands were close to the remaining leathers. He felt himself getting hard. It was uncomfortable against his clothes and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Not that he really needed to. After all this was exactly why they were there.

“I want you” The retired rider whispered as he pushed the material away from his hips. His naked ass hit the cold floor. For a second if was uncomfortable but Bez made a sound of agreement and quickly kicked everything away from them. Vale could have said anything. With his hands basically on his now exposed cock, he would agree to everything. It felt good to be desired even though it's just in a weird way that he didn't even truly understand. But he didn’t care. He came back, every time and accepted greedily whatever he was willing to give him. He took anything. He wouldn't deny the pleasure his mentor brought him for anything.

He wanted to feel his hands on him, like he did right now. He needed to feel him grabbing his thighs. It was close to being violent. He pushed in the skin and buried his fingers in there for a moment. Marco moaned. He knew his skin was probably turning red, stained with the pressure. Pain and pleasure mixed and his neglected cock stood up for attention. There was a little bit of pre-cum leaking to prove his excitement.

He was no longer thinking. Desire took over and his hands grabbed Valentino. He felt his neck and pulled him closer. He hungryly kissed him. He wanted to feel his lips on his. He wanted to feel his body against his. He wanted to feel his skin on his and pretend just for a moment that this was real. That they were real. That there was hope. That those two had future together even though he wasn't even really sure if he wanted said future not that this was a concern for him at the moment. After all, all he wanted right now was there. He wanted a release. And the one willing to give him the release he needed was his hero Valentino Rossi. He was in front of him willing to fuck him stupid.

He felt his hand wandering down between his legs. Just for a moment he was carefully stroking his thighs. His mind was finally quiet. He could finally breathe. He could just enjoy the moment and that was all he wanted. He kissed his mentor and kissed him again while feeling the vibration leaving the older Italians chest. „How eager" he replied while starting to touch the tip of his cock.

Bez response followed with a needy whine that accidentally escaped his throat. He took it as an encouragement and rubbed the tip of his cock before suddenly leaning down. The rider felt his breath stop for a moment. He started at the dark hair that was now only a breath away. He could feel the breath of the older against the skin of his V-line. It somehow burned against his already hot skin.

There was no more hesitation. He put his hand on his head and tried pushing him towards his leaking dick. The next thing he knew he felt warm lips on the tip of his dick. Before he could even realise what was going on his whole cock was surrounded by heat and wetness. He almost screamed from the pleasure.

His lover sat a fast and unbroken speed. Clearly not his first time. Bez knew that. But now with his hand burried in Vale's hair, all he could do was moan his lovers name. He tried to control his breathing. He couldn't decide if having his eyes wide open or closed tight enough to see stars was the better option. His gronas formed words. "Vale! Va-Va-Fuck!"

He sucked him off and when he felt a familiar heat pool in his lower abdoman he let go of his head. Instead his hands now formed a fist and he pushed it against the ground. „I'm… I'm gonna… I'm gonna come! Fuck! Vale-!"

Then the sudden release hit him. The tension left his shoulders as he came. He didn't had the strength to continue to push himself against the wall so he didn't. He let go and breath. He was breathing heavily. He was trying to control it when he felt Vale's mouth leave his skin. He looked up. His eyes were tired but he could clearly see the smirk in the older man's face.

He had swallowed and was now getting ride of the last drops that were still in the corner of his mouth. „Better?" he asked and kneeled next to Bez. For a moment he hesitated but than quickly nodded. „Yes, thank you Vale." „Always" he whispered and kissed him. This time it was a soft one. Almost careful as if he wanted to apologize for being to rough earlier.

„Okay, the race should almost be over. I'll be heading back now and you should finally take a shower" he announced and stood up. Bez stared at him in disbelief. He had gotten used to the sudden end of their sessions. That didn't mean he liked it. “See you later, okay?”

Bez knew he couldn't expect anything different. It wasn't part of their arrangement. So he faked a smile. “Yeah, see- see you”

Vale didn't even looked back as he closed the door. The silent 'click' confirmed that he was now gone. He had left. Bez stared at the door. He imagined Vale was still standing there.“I just… I need someone and I don't want to be alone right now”

He buried his head against his knees. Emotions he couldn't place overcame him as he was cursing himself again.

That night he went out. Not with the academy or his team. They asked him to join but he politely declined. He wasn't in the mood, at least not for the popular, loud, straight club, they always went for. He now went to a different kind of club. More private. Less known. It was a messy one actually. The kind no one told you about. He preferred those one. Especially cause this one, was known to be a gay club.

So he sat down at the bar. He burried his head in one of the biggest hoddies he owned and looked around. He watched a young woman flirt with a slightly older one. Both laughing and sharing glances. They looked so in love. They looked happy and Bez wanted excatly that. He was on his 3rd drink when a voice behind him suddenly addressed him. For a moment he was annoyed. He had no interest in talking to a fan. He wanted to bury his Frust in alcohol.

“Sorry about your DNF. You really deserve better”

Confused he turned around. He knew this voice a little to well. He was meet with a shy smile. He smiled back. Maybe it was a reflex, the crippling loyalty or the alcohol. Probably a combination of all three. But he smiled back, a kind, real one.

“Sorry about your penalty. P10 after a fight like that was undeserved" he said and watched Marc Marquez smile.

[stcrgazings]

like a tatoo pt2?

two ghosts ➳ (c.l)

like a tatto pt2, you can read part one here

note: hi girls it’s been a while, and this is long promised and so I decided to finish it finally today to celebrate p4 and p5 in Canada, truth to be told i struggled terribly with this one, because I didn’t really planned for like a tatto to have a pt2, i mean it was an idea but i thought people wouldn’t even like it but then everyone wanted it so yeah, I basically wrote and rewrote the whole thing about 7-8 times because I didn’t liked it, but after a thousand rewrites I’m finally happy with the outcome, i hope you enjoy it and leave it tons of notes, it doesn’t really have to do much with the song but I thought of it when writing so it only seemed fitting.

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

summary: Charles can’t stop thinking about a certain someone and manifesting without realizing it’s a powerful thing, but will he be able to fix what he broke?

warnings: angsts (lots of it) swearings, fighting, crying, two heartbroken people almost killing each other.

word count: 5.4K (longest yet in the blog)

He’s thinking of you again.

In his dying car in the middle of the track, he thinks thinks in those same red lips that flood his mind at any given minute and also that he must be the most unlucky person in the world, and that if you were here you’ll probably tell him that he’s just being his negative self and that that he’ll be alright.

But you’re not, thanks to no one but him, so he curses to himself and gets out of the car.

He thinks of you again, as he answers all types of questions to the hound of reporters that surrounds him, he imagines that it’s you that’s waiting for him in the garage, ready to hold him and kiss him and make him feel better but it’s the new girl that he’s seeing that wraps him in her arms, and he hates it because it doesn’t feel the same and her comfort isn’t half as good as yours and quite frankly just because she isn’t you.

But what he hates even more is the lonely road to the hotel, and the way your face is plastered in every single advertisement in that big city he’s in, just like in Monaco, and France and every single country in the globe, and the sour feeling that is to look at your beautiful face knowing that he’ll never have you again is as bad as getting a DNF in the first race of the season, if not worse.

The girl besides him talks and talks, hoping that maybe he’ll feel better, but he doesn’t because her long lashes look just like yours and that definitely doesn’t help him feel better at all, he feels more like being punch in the gut, repeatedly. But he doesn’t say anything and just remains kept to himself the whole ride, thinking about how you are or what you’ve been doing.

Maybe right now you’re thinking of him too.

Eventually he’s too in his head, thinking about what you would tell him in this situation he’s in, what you would do to make him feel better and forget the week if not months he’s had, he ends up sending the girl by his side away, repeating the words that once he said to you “you just wouldn’t understand baby” and watches her face drops, he feels his hearts sinks because your torturing sobs ring in his hears whilst the girl besides him leaves the room without saying goodbye.

(Just like you once did)

He knows that what he is doing is definitely not healthy at all, but he can’t really help himself, the memories of you being the only thing that keeps him a float, because he can’t really have you now, you’re no longer one call or one flight away, he’s by himself now, so reminiscing about you and your time together brings him some sense of peace.

He imagines that you would be waiting for him at his Monaco apartment, or at the airport, he wishes in silence to accidentally bump into you at the supermarket aisle once he gets back, fooling no one but himself, knowing none of those things will be happening when he gets home.

He used to think that racing with be enough, that if he just went day by day by the time season started he would be able to get ahold of himself, and then a competitive car would just do the rest but looking at the car he has right now that doesn’t even look like an option.

It’s like it was one step forward, thinking of last year, how he could’ve had it all, the championship and the girl and everything he could ever wanted, but now a long year later he knows its really three steps back, because he doesn’t have anything in the championship, as not one point adds up in his standings and he definitely doesn’t have the girl, doesn’t have you.

He opens his phone searching up your name, something he does religiously every night, to check on you without actually doing it, to tell himself that you’re okay, that you’re happy, and better off without him, the urge to text you or call you is always there, itching on the tip of his fingers, but it never wins, even though he truly does want it to, so he can tell you that he misses you, and that he’s sorry, and that he can’t live without even though he has tried with everything he has in him.

But he doesn’t, he never does, he just scrolls through his phone, reading about how you were in Italy a few days back, in Rome, for a fashion show or something liked that, and then feels his heart drop like he does every time he reads about you, this time he stares at the pictures of you exiting a club clearly wasted with an Argentinian soccer player, called Dybala or something liked that, by your side with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist and your face was deeply into his neck.

He sighs and throws his phone to the other side of the bed with something that feels like sadness, anger and jealousy all together and decides that’s enough you for the night.

He knows he has no right to feel anything involving you, because he was the one that screwed up, he was the one that had broken up with you and essentially ended things but he still did because he missed you and was still completely in love with you; He would even say haunted by you, his heart still skipping a beat every time someone mentioned you, his mind was constantly flooded with everything that involved you, he still thought about you when he saw tulips because they were your favorite flower, and every time he sees a sunset he can almost picture you with your phone in hand taking a picture and when he listens to Taylor Swift you’re all that comes to mind, even though he probably didn’t know what your favorite song was anymore since it was always changing from time to time.

He thought way too often about the fact that you probably didn’t think of him anymore when you heard lover and probably all too well was the one to go now that it came to him.

Everyone told him that it would get better eventually, but every day it felt like it was actually getting worse because in every living breathing moment of every hour of every day he just wanted to be with you, to be worthy of your love, to be like you both used to be before things had gotten bad, before he became a douche and didn’t realize it, before he pushed away and damaged things beyond repair.

Maybe in another universe he did everything right.

You’re both 20 years old and nothing bad has ever happened to you.

In another universe everything went well, and he won the championship with Ferrari, and you’re sitting on his lap giggling in his neck whilst in the beach in his yacht.

In another universe he’s the bigger person and doesn’t open your contact info just to see your profile picture.

In another universe he does get over you and everything gets better.

But there isn’t another universe so his fingers ghost over your phone number as he wants to call you, but then decides that a text wouldn’t hurt anyone since you probably have him blocked like in any other social media and wouldn’t get it anyway.

So he types an “i miss you” and then presses the send button, with his hands shaking and his heart in his throat, somehow the “I hope that you’re ok” that he types after hurts him even more as he sends it.

He knows he’ll get no answer, like he said before, you have him blocked everywhere, and he wants to say he wrote that just to vent all of the feelings from the past few weeks, but a teeny tiny part of him still wishes for you to read them, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re just as miserable as he is right now.

But that doesn’t change how mortified he becomes as the word delivered appeared on his screen, his heart dropping from his throat to his stomach.

Well fuck.

(…)

I miss you.

You’ve always been an glass half empty type of girl and you’ve never even know why, you’ve always been negative except with everything that involved Charles.

But that doesn’t change how decompose you are after getting that text, silent tears stream down your face as you made your way out of the busy club, feeling like the air inside it was being slowly stripped away from you, your lungs failing to do their job as you felt like breathing was to much of a task.

I hope that you’re ok.

It knocks the air out of you, and before you know it you’re emptying your insides in the sidewalk in the back of the club, and you’re sweating and you feel like you’re about to pass out.

I miss you.

Everything is a blur, you feel your own bodyguards hand around your arm as they get you in the car, your friend behind you.

“You’re okay miss?” The question rings in your ears and you want to answer no but your voice doesn’t seem to come out, so you just move your head from side to side signaling a clear “no.”

From then on the voices feel distorted, worrying looks surrounding you, you feel your friends hands all over your face, her left hand firm on your chin as she took one good look at you, staring deep into your very drunk and disoriented eyes.

“I think she’s intoxicated”

I hope that you’re ok.

You are basically pass out in the back seat of the black Range Rover in, head pressed in your friends lap as she blows air on your face, there’s discussion in the front seat, something about taking you to a hospital, they tell you not to fall asleep, but you can’t really help your closing eyes, and so as everything turns into black you think that this whole thing is unfair, and that he doesn’t have a right to miss you after every he did but a drunk mumble comes out of you anyways.

“He needs to know that I miss him too” is the last thing that leaves you in a dry and tired whisper as your consciousness is lost in the back seat of the car.

(…)

“I fucking hate Balmain” you muster as you fix your hair in the bathroom, still a little drunk, definitely a lot hangover, your head pounding so much it felt like it was going to burst.

You were currently in an event, a Balmain one in case it wasn’t clear, a tiny skirt adorned your legs with a white top from the brand that squeezed you in all the right places, your hair was curly and down, the high ponytail that you’ve worn for the past months gone, since just a few hour ago you told your stylist that anymore pressure in your head would make you puke.

To say that you would rather be anywhere else than in this 20ft yacht was an understatement

but your manager had almost dragged you here in an attempt to do some damage control because of the show you just pulled last night.

So you smile and nod and chat politely with everyone that comes close, and you giggle and flirt with the Argentinian soccer player in front of you, allowing his roaming hands just above of the curve of your ass and into the naked back of your dress, laughing playfully.

And when Paulo Dybala leaves you, you do tell him that you might be free later that night.

You take another sip of champagne when all of the sudden you feel a heavy stare just at the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine and you would know that feeling everywhere because it’s what you’ve been missing all this time.

Charles fucking Leclerc, your ex, and the one you might consider the love of your life, it’s in the same enclosed space that you are right now, and not any enclosed space but in a stupid yacht that is kilometers away from mainland, kilometers away from any scape from him.

But of course that doesn’t stop you from finding the closest emergency exit from the room, and feeling him behind you before you even start running to the outside of the boat, the bow you think that it’s called, but it’s the last thing you think about as you basically jump stairs down.

“Y/n wait!” He calls out for you and your name from his mouth sounds just as you remember and it breaks you down almost completely.

“Get away from me Charles!” You shout at him, grabbing your dress and waking as fast as your heels allow you to, because you don’t want to see him and let alone hear whatever it is he has to say.

“y/n, please listen” he grabs you by the wrist before you can separate from him even further, you didn’t even know where you were going considering you were trap in a yacht in the middle of the sea but it was definitely away from him.

“There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear Charles, please let me go” you turn around to see him, to finally catch a glimpse of him, a good look into him at the person you used to love the most, and the moment you are met with does same eyes green you’ve thought about everyday since he left you, you feel yourself tremble because there’s begging in his eyes desperation even, and even though you want to look away from it, you can’t.

“I can’t— I can’t keep living like this, I need you to hear me out please” he looks at you too, and god me missed you, moon dancing over your good side making you look as beautiful as ever as he pulls you a little closer to him, because he needs you, like he never needed anything before, and it breaks him, it shatters his heart into a million peace the look that you give him, because it’s filled with hurt and pain, and your eyes looks glassy and broken and he knows that it’s all because of him.

“You need—! you need me to listen!” At this point you’re past hurt, now you’re livid because how dare he and he actually looks scared when you walk towards him and you thank God that all of the guests are inside having dinner because you now think that you might kill him.

“What about what I needed Charles!?” You push him away, freeing yourself from his grab on your wrist and decide that if he wants to talk then you’ll talk.

“I needed you! And you fucking left me, I held together our relationship for months Charles, I booked the flights, I killed myself going from New York to Monaco just to see for six or seven hours because you were busy and never had the time, I waited for you up every time you came back from a race just to see your face even though you never even spoke to me because you were sad, you pushed me away, you quite literally gave up on our relationship and I need to hear you out?. Fuck off Charles” you brush your hair out of your hair, tears staining your rosy cheeks, and you want to hate him you truly do, but as you look at him you simply can’t, and that makes you even more miserable.

The whole thing makes you want to jump from the boat and drown, your head pulsing from how bad it hurts and you don’t know if it is because the only thing you have eaten in the whole day were some olives or because of the hangover or because of how infuriated you are.

“Ange I…” the nickname sends chills down your spine, Charles simply stares at you and just wants to make it all better, wants to take these whole months back, wants to stop himself from treating you the way he did when you were still together but he knows he can’t.

“Don’t call me that” you spit before he can even continue but he walks towards you to grab you again, and you don’t stop him when his hands find your arms again. “Okay but please don’t cry, I can’t stand to see you cry”

“Baby I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for all of that, and If could take it back I would, in the split of a second, I didn’t know how to value you back then and I took you for granted when I shouldn’t have, and every day since we broke up I’ve lived to regret it, I’ve been miserable since the day you left” he says and it sounds truthful, but you can’t let yourself believe him. “You didn’t look miserable when you hooked up with every other girl in Monaco, including my best friend” you shoot back. Cleaning the tears from your cheeks before he can even dare to.

“Maybe I didn’t take the best choices, that I know, but they weren’t you!”

“It’s that supposed to make me feel better?” You mock him, because you are hurt and angry, and he can’t help but groan in frustration. “Yes—! No—! I mean that, I am trying to make it better, I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved someone before that I know, and it’s killing me, I hate seeing you like this, every time I’ve been happy it’s because I thought of you, in my car it’s you who I want singing at the songs in the radio, it’s you who I want to wake up to, it’s you who I want to come home to, it’s you, everything I’ve ever wanted, every living day, every night baby, it’s you who I come to, checking to see if you are okay, wondering how you are, if you are okay”

“Well I’m not, I’ve been miserable, fucking going insane because of how badly I’ve missed you, getting drunk every fucking weekend trying to get you out of my mind, because you are all I can think about, wearing your shirts in the bathroom floor while I can’t stop crying because of badly I want you, despite of what you did to, because even after everything I wanted to call you, to hear your voice and to tell you that I loved you, isn’t it pathetic?” You asked, because that is exactly how you’ve felt, pathetic, even now hearing him out when you know that you know better than that.

“What? No you are not pathetic baby, you could never be and I am so sorry for making feel less than how wonderful and amazing you are, I wanted to call you too, you have no idea”

“Then why didn’t you?!” You asked and that is the only thing you actually want to hear from him, because for him to call you was everything you ever wanted, for the longest time it was. “Because I convinced myself that you were better off without me, I didn’t wanted to keep hurting you”

“It’s—it’s what you are doing right now!”

You want to say something, anything really but you can’t, because the whole thing it’s to much and before things can get even worse, your body fucking betrays you and your lungs stop doing what they are supposed.

“Stop” you speak, softly for the first time since the whole conversation started, and it’s quiet and you can’t stop crying, and you want to scream and disappear because you don’t want to keep having this conversation because it hurts, it hurts so much.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He asks. Eyes glistening, fighting back the tears seeing you like this, how did you both end up here?, “I can’t breath” you muster and it’s wheezy and you don’t want him to see you like this but you can’t really stop it.

“I just want to go home!” You sob lowering your head, giving up at the whole thing, feeling like a small child who just wants her mom, dropping to the floor, Charles joining you by your side.

And it’s quiet while you sob, and cry, hands on your face and he wants to hug you but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, but he places a hand on your thigh, tracing it up and down and it’s gentle and completely innocent while he does it, eventually you place your head in his shoulder it’s almost natural like an instinct and you feel your heart flutter when he places a soft kiss in your temple, “I can’t let you hurt me again Charles, I won’t make it.”

“I won’t” he whispers in your head, and it’s a promise, grabbing and intertwining your hand with his leaves a kiss in your knuckles and stares deep into your eyes. “I love you baby, please give me another chance.” You cry again because you want to believe him but you can’t , falling apart completely into his arms allowing him to wrap you into his embrace, tears staining his shirt, soaking him completely, his hands meeting your neck, now combing your hair through his rings and fingers.

“I didn’t deserve what you did to me” you whisper, still buried deep in this chest while he stared at you and nodded, because he knows it’s true, that you didn’t deserve everything that he did to you, he knows that he did wrong.

“I know that you didn’t deserve it, you didn’t deserved any of it, that’s why I’m apologizing because I treated you so badly when all you did was being there for me, and that’s why I’m also asking you to please give me another chance so that I can prove to you that I’ll make it better, and that I’ll make it up to you for the rest of our lives, if you let me”

Part of you wants to believes him and I’m fact a part of you does, and it’s that part that crawls deep in your chest when you finally look at him, at those green eyes that you used to call home, but now are filled with tears and despair, but even then Charles still tries and smiles at you, and you can almost feel yourself crumble, because you remember the first time you ever saw him smile and thought that, that smile was the one that you wanted to see for the rest of your days, and suddenly you aren’t in the boat heartbroken and crying in his arms, but in your apartment together sitting on the counter tasting the pancakes he just made for you. You are in Monza getting so wasted that you can’t even walk so he has your high heels in hand carrying you in a bridal style back to your hotel room, you are in a simulator in Maranello sitting on his lap while he teaches you how to use it, you are by his side blasting a Taylor Swift song telling him how much you love him, you are kissing goodbye before he goes to another continent to race, you are in bed wearing his t-shirt, hugging him, crying on his arms like you are doing right now but because you saw a movie where a dog died, and you know that despite that everything that he ever did to you, you still love him.

That’s why you pull closer, both of your breaths becoming just one because of the proximity, noses touching completely while breathing heavily because neither of you pull away, Charles tugging a strand of hair behind your ear while cupping your cheek and your heart is beating just as fast as the car he drives for a living, his pupils dilated and you shouldn’t, you can’t.

But of course that he kisses you, and there’s stillness and hesitation because for a second you don’t don’t kiss him back because you are better than this and just when Charles thinks everything is lost, you kiss him back.

And his lips against yours it’s just as good as you remembered to be, and it’s soft and slow but also desperate and needy your back arching against him because the closeness is not enough, both of his hands in your back while yours are cupping his cheeks and neither of you can’t tell if you’re actually pulling or pushing away, and it’s magical and soothing and just as stomach twisting as it always was, even with your own tears mixing in the kiss, and you don’t ever want it, it to end.

So you kiss him, with all that you have whispering a breathy, “fuck.” Throwing your legs over his lap, foreheads touching while he smiles at you and you smile at him too, and it’s the happiest you’ve been in months.

“I missed this” Charles mutters softly against your lips and all you can do is nod, enjoying the gentle strokes in the naked part of your lower back still drunk in the whole thing. “I missed this too” and you kiss him back because it’s true, and the first thing you think is how were you able to survive this long with out it, without him.

You both stay there for the longest time, giggling and kissing and making up for the time lost, and it feels like before everything went to shit and you would be lying if you said that didn’t give you a shrink of hope.

You tell him about modeling, and how everything in your life work wise seems to be working out smoothly, you tell him about all the places you’ve been, and all the countries you’ve visit since you left each other, you tell him about parties and how you are kinda still drunk from last night. “Is that my fault?”, He asks shyly making you laugh softly.

“Well not really, when I got your text I was almost already pass out in the back of the club, I was just thinking about you yesterday” you confess, back against his chest, you’re both standing now against the rail of the boat. “um, I saw the race.” You say, playing with the rings in his fingers, his arms around your waist and his chin in your shoulder and you feel him sigh against you.

“You saw that huh” he mumbles in the crook of your neck, feeling the disappointment in himself in the tone of voice because you know him that well, you always have. “You know it’s not your fault, right?” You tell him, because it truly isn’t, because every time that the team fails him Charles feels like he’s the one that did.

“Doesn’t feel like it” he says pain clear in his voice. “Listen to me, Charles”, you turn around to face him, cupping his face in between his face, “I’ve been your number one hater for these past months, but please believe me when I tell you that that wasn’t your fault, even I can’t deny your talent, and if you need to believe someone, it’s me, I know you, more than Carlos, and Fred, and those reporters and engineers, I know you, and I know for a fact that you are gifted and talented, and that what happened was most definitely not your fault, okay?”

You tell him, still with your hands in his face, shaking him playfully so it enters his stubborn head while smiling jokingly.

“I believe you” he tells you, because it’s you and if there’s someone that can make him believe something it’s you, so he kisses you again, lips crashing against yours once again, loving and hungry and he wants to have you for the rest of his life.

“Soooo…” he begins again, playing with the fabric of your dress at the end of your naked back and just above the curve of your ass.

“…does this mean you’ll give me another chance?”

He drops the one million dollar question, with both your hearts still beating the fastest they can, and you’ve pictured this very exact moment a thousands times in the past few months and you’re shaking because it’s all you’ve ever wanted but even better, and fuck you love him, and his green earthshaking eyes, and his smile that’s every dentist dream, and the way that his lips feel against yours and the way his hands fit perfectly in the curve of your waist and intertwined with your hand, and you love him even when you hate him even when you just were crying because of him not even a hour ago, and is breathtakingly frustrating in the best way possible.

And so you throw your hands behind his head playing with his hair just like you always used to do, “Baby…” and you know the answer even before it can even come out of your lips.

“When we get off this boat I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again.” And it hits Charles like a brick in the face, because yes you love him, with everything that you have in you, but sometimes love isn’t enough and you know that in this point of your lives he can’t give you what you want, what you deserve even, that in the long run it’ll never work out because how could you trust him? Trust that he won’t hurt you again? After it took him almost three months to figure out that he can’t live without you? Because you’ll never look at him with the same eyes again, because you’re not who you used to be, because you are just two ghosts standing in the graveyard of your relationship, mourning what what I’ll never be again.

After that everything it’s foggy, you don’t know if it is because of how hard you’re trying to hold off the tears, because he’s crying at your feet, and it aches you, because he’s begging at you face deep into you, holding you so tightly you don’t even know how to think straight.

“Baby please don’t do this to me, please” he sobs against you, tears sliding freely through wetting your clothes completely with his now red face and you wonder if he felt this awful when he left you just a few months ago.

“If you ever loved m—“ you sob inevitably without even looking at him because you don’t think you’ll be able to take it, “if you ever loved— me like you say you did, you’ll respect my decision, it’s the least you can do for me” you say between tears and sobs before walking away and you think that it might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life.

But letting go of you it’s actually the hardest thing Charles ever done too, but at the end of the day all he ever wanted was for you to be happy, even when if it’s not with him, even when he doesn’t know what he’ll do with his life now that the smallest bit of hope that he had, was just crush right in front of him.

He loves you and he thinks that it might kill him, he thinks it’s the biggest piece of karma he’s ever gotten, because even though he’s never loved you more, you don’t want to see him again and if it’s what you want, it’s what he’ll do, because part of loving it’s letting go, right?

When you get off the boat and into your car you cry like you’ve never done before, but you know that you’ll be okay, that you’ll do everything to be so.

That you’ll even do as if you never even met Charles Leclerc because it might have been better that way, and you’ll go day by day trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat without him in your life.

THE END.

————

TAGLIST (everyone who asked for a pt2) [@ushygushybaby @beesbadger @tempo-rary-fix @honethatty12 @jollysaladprunefriend @leclerc16s @haydee5010 @taurussbabe @nmw-am @mycenterfold]

[earthtokhal]

At this point, either confirm it or stfu. This constant merry go around is annoying.

Daniel has not yet reached Yuki in points, but he has been picking up his performances and becoming more consistent.

People who want him gone fail to understand that everyone besides Marko is calling it a sister team, NOT a junior team. Marko himself has called it a sister team before. The whole rebrand was to make sure the team was able to stand on its own and get results, and now suddenly, the same shareholders want it to be a junior team?

To me, it sounds like a not so subtle way to remind the shareholders that Christian brought Daniel back as a potential replacement for Sergio and now that it didn't happen, Marko should have his say again but at this point it just looks silly, they've already told us why they re-signed him.

In addition to that, we've had countless confirmation that Daniel has been driving the technical side. He is the one giving feedback. Yes, the last upgrade didn't work as well in terms of results, but it was a whole new car, and we were able to overtake AND not completely botch the start. Both of which were difficult to do previously. And Yuki felt comfortable enough during quali that he said "that was a good lap" only to be told that he didn't make it. I genuinely feel like they will figure it out soon regarding the new upgrade. People don't want Daniel, but they still want the car he helped improve.

As for Joe, let's not forget that according to him, Daniel was supposed to be replaced in Miami, Alonso was supposed to have signed with Red Bull and a big announcement was supposed to be released last week. All this on top of his whole Logan/Kimi thing. He gets things right, but they are few and far between.

Whether he heard about the tyre test that Liam is doing in July and decided to put two and two together after Markos article and get 5 instead of 4, is beyond me .

Liam's result last year came after dnf's, but at the same time, he was able to keep it clean and drive a faultless race. His results look so great because, in reality, there was nothing to compare it to, Yuki suffered from some dismal luck.

Daniel isn't taking up Liam's seat. That seat was always Daniel's. Liam didn't "replace" him last year, Liam stood in for him. We must remember that on three occasions, they had the opportunity to put Liam in that seat, instead they chose Nyck, Daniel and then Daniel again.

Liam deserves a seat. As do Jack, Theo, Ollie... but expecting that seat to be made free by Daniel is unfair. There are multiple drivers there with fewer points than him and yes, one can argue that Daniel is almost half down in points than his team mate but then anyone who actually pays attention to Daniel's weekends can tell you how much of those results were not Daniel's fault.

On a weekend, when things align, even with a penalty for something that wasn't his fault and even with narrowly dodging the flying Williams and Ferrari, he will get points. In his short time there, he has already earned their highest quali and results twice.

It is also not surprising that Marko ran to the media a day after the news about Liam and Audi made its way around. Yuki's announcement was half assed too, less than an hour before quali just after news got out that other teams were interested.

On many occasions, we've been told that the management would look at driver options in the summer break.

It is also wise to note that Daniel is currently in a visa ad that will probably run for a while, I don't think it would be wise to replace the driver who brought in visa and is currently in the ad campaign by end of July.

Also, "sacking" Daniel for performance while, at the same time, rewarding someone who prior to the Spanish gp earned the same points as him in a superior car is laughable.

At the end of the day, Daniel and the team aren't only saying they're working together. We can see it. I'm annoyed that this is the weekend he is going to get all these annoying questions, but he has handled it well before.

Whatever happens, he won't go down easily.

Not without a fight.

[hrt2dnf]

Minecraft, a game to tie soulmates together. After almost two years of having arms wrapped around each other, they decided to simulate the same experience, but where they sent their first messages to each other.

[ Inspired by Dream’s short. A DNF fic. ]

“Dream? Are you here?” George mutters into his microphone. He was standing next to the area where Dream was meant to be, but Dream is nowhere to be found. He was meant to emerge as a pixelated figure of himself, but all that was there in his vision was the blue sky and the trees.

“Give me a minute, I’m entering,” Dream says.

After a while of waiting, Dream finally enters the game. With a black outfit, shirt covered in white swirls, he looked as if he was made sloppily, pixels flying in different and obscure directions. “You look ridiculous in the game,” George pointed out.

“Hey, at least you can see my shirt.”

“I can’t even see your face.”

“You’re too short.”

“No, it’s literally nothing. Your face has nothing on it.”

“Oh well.”

“Dream, shrink yourself.”

“No.” As Dream raises his arms, he grows. Bigger, bigger, bigger, almost until a strand of his hair could touch the heavens and the sky above.

“Dream! This is ridiculous.”

He laughs to himself, almost as if he had been possessed, almost as if an uncanny fire was starting to grow in his throat, and it’s spewing out. “You’re so tiny, almost like how we are in real life.”

“Get down to my size, idiot.”

“I could just step on you right now, and I’d kill you in a heartbeat! Isn’t that fun?”

“Dream, get down from there.”

As he sees Dream’s foot being lifted, he immediately scrambles from where he was, pressing multiple keys at a time to get away. However, his speed wasn’t enough, and he was suffocated when Dream’s stomped on him, lifting grass blocks along with the impact.

“Dream! You idiot!” George groans, as he’s met with a red screen. All he could think of beyond what had happened was the way Dream was cackling. “You’re dying right now.”

“I know, that was so good. The way you tried to run away but couldn’t and I stood still and was still able to kill you.” His words were forced out from the small gasps of air he was taking in.

“Oh my gosh.” He respawns, with a sigh. “This is so ridiculous, why did we ever give you the ability to squish me to the ground?”

“This is amazing, I can kill you with one hit.”

“Dream, shrink.”

“Okay, okay.” As he slowly shrinks until he is almost at George’s height, Dream walks towards him. “Better? Can you stare in my eyes easier now?”

“You don’t even have eyes, Dream.”

Dream laughs. “We probably need this to be more complex so that we can have my face in it. You’re literally pleading for my face, at this point.”

“Shut up and give me a hug.”

Dream’s arms open, and George walks into his embrace. Though he could feel nothing on his back, he liked to imagine that it was warm like a walk on the beach during the summer, comforting as a thick cloud akin to a pillow.

After a while, a ghost was haunting him by the way he couldn’t feel Dream, and he couldn’t handle its whispers. “I’ll be right back,” George tells him, and he slams his headphones on the desk and walks away. He could hear mutters, but he couldn’t make out what it was.

The door to Dream’s room was opened, and he could see how Dream jumped. He walked over to him, and embraced him. It felt as if they met again for the first time, with the way the longing for him grew the more he saw their characters do so.

“I’m back,” George tells him, and he refuses to let go of him. Dream was his home.

“You’re squishing me, George.” Dream tries to shake him off, but George knows that he’s only doing that for the fun of it, he knows Dream doesn’t want to let go. His movements had not much energy put into them, and he had a huge smile on his face.

“You’re the teddy bear I hug at night.”

“George! Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“You usually don’t say those kinds of things, oh my gosh.”

“What’s wrong with saying them now?”

“You—You—oh my gosh…”

He knew that Dream was blooming red like roses, and he enjoyed putting him into that state. Teasing him non-stop, and then kissing his cheeks to taste the honey on them. And it’s easy to do so, because he knows he has caught Dream’s heart.

And he knows he will always have his heart in his hands. To catch him when he falls. That’s how they have always been, and have destined to be, ever since they saw each other in Minecraft.

“Close the game. I’m done. Let’s sit back and relax,” George mumbles into Dream’s shirt, and when the computer turns off the game, they climb into bed, and take a long nap in each other’s arms.

[landinrris]

Photographer!Lando WIP Snippet

Inadvertently came across an F1 challenge on ao3 that included a prompt about paddock photographer Lando and Ferrari driver Carlos and now I am running wild with it. It's almost 20k help Since I'm horrible at making short, consistent things, here I am sharing a snippet of them meeting for the first time

Lando had just been starting in the F3 paddock the last time Ferrari had seriously challenged for the title. It hadn’t ultimately gone well— a masterclass in disaster if Lando’s being honest. The way hope had slowly petered out, all but gone by July. Lando doesn’t know Carlos personally, but he’s followed his career through the years— had posters of him up on his bedroom wall and everything. He’s not too proud to admit that it’d be pretty cool to watch Carlos take Ferrari to their first championship in eighteen years. What a story that would make.

The Red Bulls aren’t too far behind him on Friday practice, his teammate back in third to his second after Saturday’s qualifying is all said and done.

It’s not like Charles doesn’t also deserve to be champion, Lando thinks, watching from the castle as he’s practically on top of Carlos through the tricky corners. But there’s a part of Carlos that screams he’s done waiting, and compared to the two DNFs Charles has already had with another fifth place in Australia, he’s further back in the points already.

Carlos has been walking around with careful confidence every time Lando sees him, like he can’t quite believe it’s been going so well.

And Lando’s not a stranger as to the other reason he’d love for Carlos to win.

It starts with a cr and ends with an ush. Seeing Carlos know he’s leading even early on in the season has been doing wonders for Lando’s infatuation. While he’s not one of the photographers who wait around for the drivers arriving at the paddock each day, he’s half tempted to hang around to get some of Carlos.

Lando’s sitting with his camera in the old city complex around halfway through the race when one of the nearby marshals reaches for their yellow flag. A second later, he sees a distinctly red Ferrari come around the corner going much slower than it should be even given the area it’s in. The distinct 55 becomes clearer not too long after.

One of the marshals rushes up to Lando, ushering him away from the escape road that Carlos is trying to direct his car towards. Lando moves, numb and disappointed as the broadcast feed in his ears finally acknowledges Carlos’ impending DNF.

He’s supposed to be neutral, and he is for the most part. It’s just that Carlos had been comfortably in the lead after jumping Checo at the start and now he’ll walk away from the weekend without any points.

This is how it starts.

Carlos jumps from the car once it’s safely off track and marches behind the barriers. They’ve never spoken, but Lando can read the tension in his shoulders from ten feet away. He’s stuck standing still as some of the nearby photographers turn to capture Carlos’ annoyance. Lando can’t bring himself to raise his lens in Carlos’ direction and instead turns back to the track. Carlos is undoubtedly not in the mood.

The old city usually provides good vantage points to capture the cars as they come through, but bunched up behind the safety car while the tractor pulls Carlos’ car behind the barriers is even better. A nineteen-car squirming snake.

The other photographers wander off after a handful of shots leaving Lando to believe that Carlos has mounted whatever scooter of shame they have for him back to the paddock. He’ll probably want to go punch something.

When Lando turns around after all the cars have cycled past though, a shock of red sitting with his back against the barrier without a helmet on, greets him. Lando only feels slightly guilty for thinking Carlos looks hot when he’s sad. The sight of Carlos sitting there, legs bent and hands dangling atop his knees, takes Lando’s breath away.

He should focus on the race, maybe move to a new location as the safety car comes in and the race goes green again. Instead, all Lando does is open his big mouth in the most embarrassing way.

“So, come here often?” It’s not overly loud, but with the lull in noise and Carlos close by, of course he hears it.

Carlos cracks open an eye and shifts his head level with Lando. “That is the best you could come up with?” It’s not overly nasty, but the element of unimpressed is definitely there that has Lando cringing internally.

“I mean, unless you’d rather me ask if you’re okay? And clearly you are, physically. Mentally, you’re probably kicking yourself. Points opportunity gone and everything when you know you need every one you can get.” Carlos is staring at Lando dead-eyed when Lando’s brain finally cooperates and slots its filter back in place.

“Are you finished?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

The tell-tale roar of engines making their way down the straight pulls Lando’s attention back to the track.

God, he’s such a moron. Out of all times for his filter to up and disappear, of course it happens while meeting one of the hottest people he’s ever seen. All while clad in the billowy white and purple mesh photographer vest he’s made to wear. Carlos probably thinks he’s some piece of shit who thinks he’s right about everything.

Checo’s leading when the cars snake past them but the only noise that lingers once they pass is his own self screaming wanker inside his head over and over.

“I haven’t seen you before, I think.” Carlos unexpectedly speaks nearly in conjunction with Lando’s finger lifting from the shutter.

Lando carefully holds himself still, trying to evoke an air of uncaring rather than one of eagerness to please. “Uh, no. This is my first season in the F1 paddock. Been with F2 and F3 since 2019 though. I’m Lando— Norris. Lando Norris.” He would hold his hand out for Carlos to shake if they weren’t awkwardly far apart and Lando was sure Carlos wouldn’t punch him for speaking out of his ass.

Carlos doesn’t punch him though. He nods and turns his head to look over at the marshal standing at their post fifteen feet away. “Tell me, Lando Norris, do you think this will cost me in a few months?”

Lando should say no, especially after shoving his foot in his mouth earlier. “It’s not gonna make it easier,” he says. God. “I mean— it’s not like I don’t think you can’t. I think if anyone could come back, it’s you. With like, consistency and all that. But the field is like, so close, you know? I should really stop talking.”

But Carlos is at least smiling at him this time like he’s enjoying watching Lando struggle to stop digging himself an ever deeper hole. He probably just needs to run and find a new photo spot where he won’t be at risk of talking to drivers who DNF.

“You think I’m consistent?” Carlos teases. Because that’s 100% what he’s doing, Lando can see it now. Proper smile and everything.

He points his camera at Carlos and takes a burst of shots in retaliation. They don’t deter Carlos’ grin.

“I mean, you beat your veteran teammate twice over the seasons since you’ve been at Ferrari, and then before when you were at McLaren even though you had shit luck. You know how to keep it in one piece.” Lando can feel how hot his face is and wonders if his blush is visible.

Carlos sighs. “I guess we will see, no? Where is Charles right now?”

The cars come roaring back up the hill and Lando counts fifth. Carlos seems mildly okay with that. Lando can only imagine how quickly Ferrari would switch allegiances if Carlos’ performance fell off. At least Lando can offer some reassurance.

One of the Haases clips a corner and gets some spectacular front axle damage a few laps later. Carlos takes that as his cue to push himself up and make his way back down to the paddock. Part of Lando is morose to see him go even though he definitely needs to move as well to get some variety in what he sends off later.

“I will see you around?” Carlos asks as he picks his helmet off the ground.

Lando flashes him a smile. “I’ll be here as long as they let me. Hopefully next time you’ll be back up on that podium.” And then Carlos is trudging back in the direction of the pits. Lando gives Carlos a few minutes before setting off in the same direction. Better to be closer to the podium at this stage in the race than farther away.

Lando doesn’t see Carlos again for the remainder of the afternoon. When he’s editing his photos later as the paddock begins to clear and the champagne has dried, he comes across the ones he quickly took of Carlos. They stop him in his tracks.

The photographers who had swarmed him after getting out of the car and sitting down on the ground all got photos of Carlos at his most vulnerable. Lando’s sure they look like he’s about to cry or scream or maybe both. They’ll use them to paint pictures of defeat and concern over Carlos’ championship chances— the likelihood of continuing with a DNF under his belt.

Lando’s photo shows the opposite. There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he sits on the ground looking in Lando’s direction. It doesn’t speak of dashed championship hopes, but rather fortified determination. That a DNF isn’t the end of the world, nor does Carlos think so.

He spends a few minutes correcting the balances and then opens Instagram. Carlos is one of those longstanding drivers Lando’s followed practically since he signed up for an account. He’s sure Carlos gets overwhelming numbers of DMs on a regular basis, but Lando has no other way of contacting him and he wants Carlos to have the photos.

The way his gut jumps when Carlos not only opens the message but replies with a short message of gratitude, should be embarrassing. Like a fucking teenager. And then Carlos honest to God posts them, crediting Lando’s page.

Lando tries not to feel guilty when he goes back to the hotel later and pulls up Pornhub on his phone. Dark-haired and dark-eyed guys aren’t solely reminiscent of Carlos. He’s totally normal and within his rights.

Nothing to worry about.

[oranjeleeuw]

fanfiction ideas master list

I will add new ideas to this on the go, and also update on the progress of each story regularly

Catboy streamer girlfriend Charles

Smut, 1-2k words at best, lestappen

Charles is doing game streams but he gets a bit more brave about acting up for the camera

He's still shit at it though

But he has a very supportive donator

It's Max

Charles doesn't know that

He got his cat ear headphones from this donator so he's responding to some commissions of this person

The fic is either description of Charles movements and thoughts or chat comments from twitch CUT description to Max pov

It's something equivalent of phone sex but through stream video/chat commands I guess

this was requested by my bf hfdhj <3

WIP state: only a draft

Toto Wolf uses Roscoe for spying (he fails)

Crack fic, all the teams on the grid mentioned, 1k words probably

Toto has this fantastic idea that Roscoe gets along with every pilot

So the dog can be used for some mischief

He sends the dog out in different silly scenarios to go off and spy on different teams, figuring out their strategies

But since Roscoe can't talk and he's not trained for this, the dog just collects pets

At the end Hamilton takes home his kinda sensory overloaded baby

WIP state: only a draft

My condolences

Lestappen one shot, hurt/comfort, more so comfort, will become sweeter in the end

Charles DNF in Zandvoort, Max is catching up with him right after the winner ceremony

Definitely more than friends (were we ever friends?), less than boyfriends relationship status

Max is praising the skills of Charles and goes on how he's wasting his talent at Ferrari

Charles ends up crying/having a breakdown bc what if it's not the car but him who's not performing any better

Max offers to take him down to the beach for a walk to clear his head (Charles stops crying and starts laughing when he thinks Max wants to take him to the nudist side of the beach)

They walk, look at the sea, enjoy the wind

It's peaceful, it is helping

They kiss, and kiss

Charles wishes he could treat everything as easy as it is with Max, even though nothing is easy with Max

But these corresponding things are what stick them to each other so it's fine

WIP state: 1/3 of it is written, rest of it is drafted out in detail

That infamous Ted and Robin pact

You know, the "let's marry each other if we are still single by 30"

Young Versainz with some added jump into their current age

“I mean it'd be fun to make a pact like that” Max prompts, which makes Carlos snort.

“Yeah, get me a home country where it's legal first” he says bitterly,

Toro Rosso days, Max and Carlos watch himym in their free time

Max fancies the thought of having someone secured for himself if things go south

Carlos is cynical

But the possibility of this pact lingers, haunting the thoughts of both of them

The emotional journey of Max Verstappen with men

Goddamn this boy is Gay™

I really want to have a self-indulgent analysis of how I see Max's relationship with the most important men in his life

Like I want to explore his feelings and flash of thoughts of sexual awakenings

Starting with Charles (as kids, young teenagers)

Jumping to Carlos which is a Very intense jump

Like losing virginity kind of a jump

Oh it was awkward but the best and most he'd wanted

Then the whole ordeal that is Danny Ricciardo for this kid

Goddamn he's so gay for him

Getting together with Carlos seemed so easy that he thinks maybe it's a sealed deal with Danny too

Like he likes him, that's obvious, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Then an older Charles enters the stage of racing (and Max’s heart) once again

Keep in mind this won't be an actual ship fic since none of the pairings will end up as couples, it's more so a study of Max emotions

[bunnytalksf1]

on ferrari politics, strategy and carlos sainz

Just a heads-up / disclaimer, i am a leclerc fan and therefore not unbiased. I did, however, come into the sport as a ferrari fan and tried to give Sainz his dues, and I still want him to, but- oh, well. We'll just get into it.

Ferrari, for a while, has actively suffered due to its own politics. Seb Vettel didn't seem to get on well in the atmosphere. They haven't been able to hold on for a championship since 2007.

There's a little bit of background I think is important for the current setup in ferrari:

Charles Leclerc was the last driver signed by the ex-TP, Arrivabene, and renewed by him also.

Carlos Sainz was the first (major) signing by Mattia Binotto, and was then propped by the management of the team through 2022, influencing car development in a negative direction.

After Silverstone 2022, Leclerc allegedly threatened to leave Ferrari. Binotto was fired and replaced with Fred Vasseur, who worked with Leclerc in his rookie season in F1 in Sauber. It's heavily speculated that this decision was made to please Leclerc and prevent him from leaving.

The 2022 and 2023 cars were influenced by Sainz's feedback predominantly, and his comfort.

Sainz has been beaten in teammate H2H by Hulkenberg, Leclerc and Verstappen. He looked good against a rookie Norris, which earnt him the Ferrari seat in 21.

In 2021, Sainz outscored Leclerc by five points. Leclerc had two dnfs to Sainz's zero, and lost probably about 40-50 points through no fault of his own. 2022, Ferrari started the year with the fastest car, and went backwards throughout because they refused to valorise their faster driver, who lead the championship by a fair distance after the first few races, picking up a grand slam in australia and winning by twenty seconds there, instead aiming to get Sainz "comfortable in the car" (Mekies' words). In 2023, from Carlos Sainz Sr's words, the car was developed in Sainz's direction, and every ferrari fan agrees the sf-23 was a shitbox. Still, Leclerc was the only driver to overtake Verstappen on equal stints (LV23) and picked up a ton of poles, outperforming his teammate and AGAIN losing out to bad luck with the trilogy of DNF, DNS, DSQ in a season. These weren't small points losses, either. all in all, he probably lost forty points alone in the second half of the season.

So, under Vasseur, the team is taking a different direction, being now firmly lead by Leclerc, who signed a contract extension of five+ years with the scuderia. Meanwhile, Sainz struggled to be offered more than a one-year deal, and there were rumours in the press about Ferrari wanting to bring in Albon, Norris in 2025/6. They very clearly wanted to keep that second seat open, regardless of Hamilton - his availability was just a bonus.

The narrative, somehow, has been twisted into Carlos' departure being comparable to Sebastian's: a betrayal. Carlos was offered an extension in 2023, and didn't sign it, and instead his camp decided to start talking about their Audi offers during the Monza 23 weekend, as a way to put pressure on surrounding contracts, and Ferrari basically turned around, and said: fine. Go if you want.

Sainz has had a full season to negotiate. He's not particularly a victim here, in my opinion. He's repeatedly, across the course of his four-year stint with Ferrari, ignored team orders in both quali and the race to serve his own interests, and lies in interviews after. Two recent instances that spring to mind are Bahrain 2024, where he implied to the press he had similar braking issues to Charles' (he didn't) and Barcelona 2024/ Austria 2024, where he went against his own TP to say he never agreed to saving his tyres after overtaking and making contact with his teammate, potentially costing Leclerc and the team a podium / a position.

There's a reason Sainz is leaving. If it weren't for Hamilton, it would be Albon, Norris, or someone else. The two drivers aren't a good fit. Vasseur said he had to calm them down every two GPs. Sainz's camp is reportedly incredibly toxic to be around, in general, and Ferrari is one of the only teams where somewhere in the contracts they can't prioritise upgrades to one driver. they're the only team to consistently bring upgrades to both cars, regardless of how urgent those upgrades are.

The team has been obsessed with giving Sainz and Leclerc equal status. Now its actively harming them. Leclerc has long been faster. In 2019 he outperformed a 4xWDC in the form of Seb Vettel at points. He won his first two races back-to-back. People who know both compare him to Verstappen. After firing Seb in 2020, it was expected Leclerc would lead the team moving forward, but Carlos came in and demanded equal status, and now there's a whole mess as a result. No other top team is this nice. RBR, McLaren, even Mercedes to some extent, make no pretenses about who they prioritise, and it helps them. There's team orders regularly. This doesn't happen at Ferrari, and even if it does, Sainz ignores them anyway. and this isn't just from this year. This is from 23, 22 ("stop inventing!" comes to mind).

Along with this, he lies (or is just delusional) to the media, about pace, damage, strategy. It's exhausting to keep up with. Then, when Leclerc hits back, he's labelled a poor sport (his comments about "that moment in his career" were so cheeky, but in my opinion, not uncalled for), and he also made a comment after imola quali, but it was in french, to canal+. Anyone who follows Leclerc knows these comments aren't out of nowhere, and he can bite back if he needs to.

The issue isn't teammates fighting each other. It's that there's long since been a power imbalance in this team and Ferrari has suffered as a result. And it looks like they're going to continue to suffer in the next few races.

(Just needed to get this off my chest. I think Sainz actually is a pretty decent driver, but his politics just. Rubs me the wrong way and I need him to sign a contract so everyone else can start to move. I'm sick of talking about him).

[charles-leclerc-official]

2024 Jeddah Grand Prix Race Analysis

Jeddah was certainly an exciting second race in the 2024 season, with Ollie Bearman's F1 debut in Ferrari, to Lance's DNF, to the absolute chaos in the midfield there was a lot going on.

I am of course going to start by talking about Ferrari Charles and Ollie's race.

Ollie

Ollie Bearman (18) the F2 driver was called last minute to fill in at Ferrari for Carlos Sainz, who had to have surgery to treat appendicitis. Ollie got to participate in FP3 before he then went into qualifying and came in P11.

Ollie managed to come in P7 during the race bringing home his first points in Formula 1, and some important constuctor's points for Ferrari.

Given how little prep time he had, Ollie adapted to the car very quickly. Even comparing his race to qualifying it's clear he was getting more at home in the car with each lap. He struggled the most on the low speed corners in those high braking zones(also where there are lots of lateral Gs which he did mention were tough) but he was not behind at all on straight line speed.

Ollie ran a remarkably clean race. He overtook 4 cars in total and only struggled a little with the car settings when overtaking Kevin Magnussen.

It cannot be overstated what an amazing first F1 performance he put on. Ollie did the most overtakes of the race in a car he'd only just driven the day before on the highest speed track in F1.

Overall this was an amazing debut and Ollie 100% deserved driver of the day!

Charles

Charles race was pretty clean. He started in P2 but lost the position pretty early to Perez and came in P3. Apparently there was an issue with the car and the way the tyres felt and I do think this impacted his ability to really push, especially at the beginning of the race.

He held on to P3 pretty easily.

The standout part of his race was of course setting the fastest lap on lap 50 on old tyres. That is actually kind of insane and I don't know why more people aren't talking about it. After his tyre wear looked so good, like too good.

Charles did say that he was having trouble warming up the tyres. This was seen in quali, but the impact was felt during the race. He had to try to defend and overtake while still warming up his tyres and that is probably what cost him that place to Checo. After he got the tyres warmed up the gap to Checo was pretty stable.

Ferrari

Ferrari is easily P2 in constructors. It was very helpful that Ollie brought home points to continue the lead on Mclaren and Mercedes.

We learned a few things from this race:

The SF-24 has made massive improvements on tyre degen on the SF-23.

However the car is having issues warming up the tyres which for sure impacted Charles' race. There are multiple ways to solve this issue, upgrades and adjustments should be able to take care of it(at the very least mitigate the issue) Another thing to note is that this race was at night and temps were cooler so that likely amplified what was already a problem. I wouldn't expect it to be as bad in Australia even if nothing is altered on the car.

The SF-24 still needs to do some catching up to Red Bull

The SF-24 is certainly more reliable, because Ollie was able to get comfortable pretty quickly and that is in part thanks to the reliability of the car itself(as well as his skill)

Kevin

So thoughts on Kevin's race and the Haas strategy in general.

Early in the race Kevin took a 10 second penalty for track limits. That basically ended his race. So Haas apparently decided to use him to hold off the rest of the mid-field so that his teammate Nico could score a point. In doing so Kevin got an additional 10 second penalty for overtaking off track.

Now people have criticized this strategy, as Kevin not giving the place back messed up a lot of driver's races (Yuki, Logan, Alex, Este, Zhou). But it was all within the rules, and if it's within the rules then I can't begrudge a team for playing to their advantage. It's up to the stewards to issue additional instructions, or for the FIA to change the rules to prevent such a strategy in the future.

The other notable thing was that Kevin still finished P12 which is higher than you'd expect given he racked up 20 seconds of penalties however he finished his race in just under the lap time, so he got a time and the cars behind him were stuck with +1 lap, which further negated that penalty for himself.

Jump Starts: Lando and Sergio

There were two jumped starts this race. One was spotted as it happened (Lando) and one was discovered after the race(Sergio)

Now neither driver received a penalty, and I think this was the right choice for Lando but not for Sergio.

Important things to keep in mind: jumping the start is penalized because it can create early forward momentum that can give an advantage in those first few seconds. Sensors under the track are used to determine if a car jumped the start.

Lando started moving before the lights, it was very obvious, but then he came to a full stop before starting again. He wasn't given the penalty because the movement did not register on the sensors and the stewards make the decision based on if the sensors picked up anything.

Now I do actually agree that this didn't really need to be penalized for 2 reasons.

Lando came to a complete stop after the initial movement and thus probably hurt his start more than anything

It didn't impact any race results. Lando didn't seemingly gain anything and there aren't any results that you could argue might have been different(if he had gained some advantage then it 100% should have been a penalty, but from what we saw he really didn't)

I think had his actions impacted someone's results etc then other teams would have pushed harder for a penalty, but it just wasn't worth it because this didn't really do anything.

However I do believe that Sergio's jumped start should have been penalized.

He didn't brake, thus has slight forward momentum going into the lights out

It potentially did impact the first turn pressure he was able to put on Charles right away

Mostly the fact he did for sure get some small amount of forward momentum for me makes it a pretty clear penalty.

Both of these didn't register on the sensors which is also weird because they were very clearly visible.

Other Drivers and moments of note:

Zhou: his race was compromised by both Kevin and the fact he had a 46 second pit stop

Lance: hit the wall, locked up and ended up in the barrier on lap 7, ending his race

Pierre: had a mechanical failure on lap 1 and had to retire the car

Max: won again

Oscar and Lewis: had one of the most tight battles of the race. Lewis defended for so many laps while Oscar was within DRS so often. Oscar did end up ahead and that lead on Hamilton was hard fought. Lewis' performance as well was impressive given the struggles of the current W15.

Esteban/Alpine: Esteban managed to come in P13 which is Alpine's best result so far this year.

Nico: Came in P10 scoring Haas' first points, placing them 6th currently in the constructor's

George: George battled the pace issues the W15 seems to be having. He is quick in the car, but the race pace seems to be suffering as well as the top speed. This was a bad track for the W15 overall looking at both his and Lewis' results.

This race was memorable for Ollie's F1 debut, and the youngest Ferrari driver lineup in history. As well as plenty of action in the midfield.

See you next time with Australia race analysis!

[bagelrites]

A House Full of Love

The Dream Team do a Valentine’s Day stream, and it goes about as well as you’d expect. Oh, and Patches is there too, because how could they forget the birthday girl?

(DTeam + Patches fluff, with a pinch of DNF. You can also read on AO3.)

This is my gift for @dreamboozled​ for the valentines gift exchange hosted by @dreblrtine-gift-exchange​! I hope you like it (and be sure to read to the end for a second illustration!)

The only normal part of the stream was the introduction. They had a camera set up in the living room, pointing down at the coffee table, which was strewn with all manner of red and pink crafting supplies: thick cardstock paper, lacy heart doilies, ribbons, stickers, and glitter glue galore. Dream explained that they were just doing a chill crafting stream for Valentine’s Day, and George and Sapnap came and sat around the table with him.

After that, the stream was nothing but chaos.

“What are we even meant to be doing?” George asked, scissors in hand and gesturing wildly with them without a care for the sharp edges, a ruined piece of cardstock all cut to bits in front of him on the table.

“Making valentines,” Sapnap said. “Obviously.” He was working diligently on something at the far side of the table, while George and Dream were across from him, their shoulders practically touching.

“Yeah, but like, for who? I don’t get it.” George tossed the scissors to the table with a clatter.

“George, careful.” Dream put his hand over the scissors and moved them towards himself. “And we’re making valentines for our friends, George. People do that, you know. It doesn’t have to be like—like a whole thing.”

“So like, for each other?” George gestured to the three of them.

“Yeah, sure. I’m making one for you guys, for Karl and Tina, uhhh, I’ll probably do ones for Hannah and Sylvee and Punz, I don’t know. Anyone I can think of.”

(The chat started listing off names of all the people that they wanted Dream to make valentines for, but no one was reading it.)

“Dude, that’s a lot of people. How are you gonna have time for that?” Sapnap asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.” Dream shrugged.

“Okay, so I can make one for anyone, basically?” George said. “Can I make one for myself?”

“Bro is selfish,” Sapnap mumbled.

“George, c’mon.” Dream rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I won’t geez!” George put his head in his hand, leaning on the table, his legs bouncing, agitated. “Fine. I know what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make one for Skeppy.”

Sapnap laughed out loud at that, and it was instantly contagious. They all giggled about it for far longer than they really should have. When George grabbed more paper and a tube of glitter glue, however, they started right back up again.

“Wait, are you actually doing it?” Sapnap asked.

“Yeah, duh.”

“Uh-oh,” Dream chuckled.

“What?”

“You better​​—” he cut himself off, laughing too hard to say it. “You better watch out for Bad.”

“JealousBoyHalo,” Sapnap said in a mocking voice, and they all broke out into another fit.

Eventually, things calmed down, and they crafted in comfortable silence for a little while, occasionally making small talk or answering a question when George got bored and pulled up chat on his phone.

Dream grabbed a sheet of pink and red heart stickers and started putting them on his valentines. He had about ten laid out in front of him, rectangles of varying sizes with short messages written in them, covers left to decorate. He peeled off a large, pink heart, and then paused, not finding a place to put it.

“Shoot. What do I do with this?” he said, holding up his hand to George, the heart attached to his thumb by the corner. “It doesn’t fit.”

“You do this.” George said, and without missing a beat, grabbed the sticker from him and put it on Dream’s cheek.

“George,” Dream said, his tone both admonishing and dripping with affection. George giggled, his cheeks pushed up into his eyes and turning pink. One hand came and covered his mouth, and the other snatched the sheet of stickers from Dream.

“Gimme these,” he said.

“What? Why? George!” Dream tried only half-heartedly to escape as George peeled off more stickers and put them all over Dream’s face.

“There. Much better.” George said, leaning away to admire his handiwork.

Dream huffed and faced the camera, making a why do I love this idiot face, before he shook his head and blinked hard a few times, making the more poorly attached stickers fall off. Only a few remained on his cheeks and forehead—the tiny red heart on the tip of his nose fluttered down into lap—and then he went back to work on his valentines like that, without bothering to take the others off.

(Chat, of course, was collectively losing its mind and spamming DNF.)

“Alright. If you two nimrods are done pandering over there, I have cards for you,” Sapnap said, lifting up the valentines he’d been dutifully working on the whole time. They were both heart-shaped cards cut from red cardstock, white doilies glued to the front, Dream written in green glitter glue on one, George in blue on the other. A few random plastic-gem stickers were thrown on for good measure.

“Aww, thank you,” Dream said, smiling wide as he took his and opened it. George grabbed his silently, but when he opened it, he had the exact opposite reaction.

“Sapnap, what the fuck?” He threw the card at him, and Sapnap flinched even as he laughed. It didn’t go very far, though, just stopped short and fluttered down to the middle of the table.

“What? What’d he do?” Dream asked, and George leaned over the table, snatching the card back up.

“Look! Look what this idiot wrote!” He opened it up and showed it to the camera, holding it still to let it focus on the words. In large, blocky letters, Sapnap had written YOU STINK.

“I hate you! You suck!” George crumpled the valentine up and threw it at him, this time with more success.

“Dude! You ruined it!” Sapnap picked the ball up off the ground and tried to straighten it out. “I worked really hard on that, you know…”

“What does yours say?” George was ignoring him, pushing up against Dream’s side, grabbing at his card.

“Don’t—don’t rip it—” Dream said through a wheezing laugh. George paused, reading the short but kind note in Dream’s card, then scoffed and slumped back onto the table, head in his hand again.

“You guys suck. Why does he get a real one?”

“And you swallow,” Sapnap mumbled.

George grabbed a spool of ribbon and threw it at him. Sapnap shrieked and ducked, the much more solid projectile thankfully flying right over his head.

“Dude what the—are you seeing this?” he yelled, pointing at George and looking at Dream like he was their kindergarten teacher and he was complaining about some playground roughness.

“Okay, okay, okay. Chill guys, chill,” Dream said. “You’ll get a real card, George. I’m making you one.”

“You are?” George leaned over his work, and Dream gently nudged him out of the way, using his arm to protect the cards.

“Don’t look,” he admonished. “Work on your own cards!”

“Ugh! Fine.”

They fell back into silence for a while, Dream working dutifully on his army of valentines, George fiddling around with all the supplies, and Sapnap starting a new project which seemed to involve cutting out a big paw shape from pink paper.

(The chat, seeing this, began to ask questions about Patches. They all knew, of course, that it was her birthday, and there’d been no mention of her yet.)

George finally seemed to be happy with what he was making, and grabbed a tube of silver glitter glue to finish it off. He was drawing a squiggly border with it, when he squeezed too hard and the cap popped off, the glue exploding all over his hands and the card.

“Ewww!” he screamed, holding his hand up and away from himself.

“Oh my god, George,” Sapnap said through a laugh. Dream was wheezing too hard to speak.

“Dreeaammm, what do I do?” George whined.

“Go—clean yourself up, idiot!” Dream finally managed to get a few words out.

“Ugh! I hate this! Let’s end the stupid stream,” George said as he got up and marched off camera to wash up.

“Well, I mean… we can’t end yet,” Dream said.

Sapnap started smiling and making faces at the camera.

“Should I tell them? Or you?” he asked.

“Mmm, let’s wait for George to get back.”

“Ugh, fine.” Sapnap looked back down at his work, added a few more details, and then slid it to Dream.

“Sign it,” he said. Dream smiled, reading it, and nodded silently as he grabbed a pen.

“Guys, look who I found!” George’s voice sang from off screen. Dream and Sapnap looked up, and smiled as soon as they saw him.

“It’s the birthday girl!” Dream finally spilled the beans, and Sapnap cheered and clapped as George brought her into view for the stream: Patches, curled up in his arms, looking around with wide, slightly confused eyes.

“You all thought we forgot,” George said, voice teasing, shaking his head right in front of the camera. “Where’s Patches? Where’s Patches? She’s right here, idiots.”

“Sap, should I get the stuff, or do you want to?” Dream asked, just barely visible behind George, who remained right in front of the camera, rocking Patches in his arms.

“You get it. I’ll move the camera,” he answered.

Patches moved in George’s arms, and he giggled as he readjusted his grip, then made a little meow sound and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. It seemed he was on Patches duty while Sapnap and Dream got the second part of the stream set-up. Sapnap moved the camera so it was facing the fireplace, where Patches’s mini-couch was, a large “Happy Birthday" banner hung over it. Dream came back with a small cake-box, some candles, and a lighter, as well as a bunch of party hats.

“Okay, c’mon everyone.” He called them over, sitting on the ground next to the cat-couch.

“Wait, George, you have to sign the card,” Sapnap said.

“I can’t, I’m holding her,” he said. “She wants to run away. I can feel it.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Everyone sit down.” Dream urged them over. George sat on the other side of the couch-bed and held Patches in his lap, and Sapnap settled next to him. Meanwhile, Dream had put on a party hat and was opening up the cake box.

“Ooh, gimme one of those!” Sapnap took a party hat and put it on, and then giggled as he put one on George for him, since his hands were occupied.

“Ow. Ow!” George complained even though it was obvious Sapnap wasn’t hurting him.

“Okay! So, as you all know, today is also Patches’s birthday!” Dream said, talking to stream. “So we got her a kitty cake—” he held it up towards the camera “—which is, like, made of… I don’t know, fish or something? Anyways, it’s safe for her to eat.”

“And I made her a card!” Sapnap butt in, putting the card in front of the camera and struggling to get it to focus on it. Eventually, he gave up, because Dream had gotten a candle in the cake and was lighting it, insisting they needed to sing Happy Birthday fast because the flame wasn’t holding up very well.

“Okay, c’mon everyone. Chat! Sing with us!” he said, nudging the cake closer to Patches. She seemed to finally smell it then, and leaned her head off of George’s knee, sniffing the air with wide eyes.

“Happy birthday to you,” they sang, a little off-tempo and entirely off-tune. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Patches—” they extended her name as long as they could, all looking down at her with the biggest, dopiest smiles. “Happy birthday to you!”

Dream blew out the candle, and George and Sapnap cheered. Patches was fully trying to get off of George’s lap by then, very interested in the fishy-smelling cake, and George laughed as he tried to hold her back.

“Just a minute Patches. Just a second!” he said. Dream finally got the candle out, and then they let her go. She lunged for the cake, her furry little body settling in a tight loaf in front of it as she licked all along the sides and took small bites, chewing rather loudly.

“Aww, she likes it,” Dream cooed, gently stroking the back of her neck with three fingers. “Happy birthday, Patchy.”

“Wait, why don’t we get any cake?” Sapnap asked.

“Ew, you want to eat that?” George said.

“No—I mean we should have gotten, like, people-cake, too.”

“Oh, that would’ve been a good idea,” Dream said.

(The chat suggested they do a baking stream and just make a cake, though everyone knew that was wishful thinking. They’d already been live for over an hour, and it was clearly winding down.)

“Well, I guess that’s kinda it, huh?” Dream said, pulling out his phone to look at chat. George was distracted, making cat-noises at Patches as he scratched her behind the ears. Sapnap was sitting back on his hands, foot tapping the ground a little impatient, though a contented smile was resting on his lips.

“Oh, wait, that’s right.” Dream stood up, reminded by chat about his valentines. “I made cards for you guys.”

“Yeah!” George sat up, suddenly interested again. “Where’s my card?”

“This isn’t gonna be like the Christmas stream, is it?” Sapnap called after him.

“What? What do you mean?” Dream said, and even thought he was off camera, his mischievous grin was audible in his voice.

Sapnap and George looked at each other and laughed without saying anything.

Dream came back into view, holding out two cards to them.

“I didn’t really have time to finish them, but, you know. Close enough,” he said.

“Can we read them on stream?” Sapnap asked.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Dream shrugged. He sat down next to Patches and mumbled something about don’t eat the whole thing, then picked her up and put her in his lap, distracting her from the cake with chin-scratches.

“Oh, it’s not that exciting,” Sapnap said. “It just says Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend.”

“What? That’s false. I’m his best friend,” George said, then opened his own valentine, and his cheeks flared red. “Nevermind. Whatever.”

“What? Come on, read it—” Sapnap tried to grab it from him, but George held it away. Dream giggled, smiling so wide at the scene his eyes were pressed up into crescent moons by his cheeks.

(Of the stickers, only the big pink heart on his cheek remained, the rest had fallen away one by one. Still, the image of him smiling so wide like that with a heart on his cheek was so endearing, screenshots of it were circulating around the internet within seconds.)

“He doesn’t have to read it,” Dream said.

“I’m not reading it,” George huffed, and finally Sapnap relented.

“Fine, whatever. I know you hate our fans,” he said. George snorted and rolled his eyes, while Sapnap turned to the camera. “Don’t worry guys. I love you. I don’t keep secrets like these idiots.”

“Well—” Dream started, but quickly cut himself off with a laugh. They all had a good chuckle about it, then moved on, ignoring the pleas of the chat to know what was in the card and what they meant by that.

The stream wrapped up soon enough, after a long, drawn-out argument over who should have to clean up, especially considering the glitter-glue mess that was currently drying on the table which George refused to be responsible for.

Before they ended, though, Dream went behind the camera and zoomed in on Patches, who had remained in the living room with them and was sitting on her couch-bed, loafed up so only one white paw was visible, poking out from under her fuzzy chest. She looked up at him, green eyes gazing past the camera, and when it focused, the stream could see every detail of her face: the brown patterns glowing a little gold in the light, her whiskers flicking ever-so-slightly, and eyes wide, a few small, white reflections glittering off her round, black pupils.

“I love you Patches,” Dream cooed, even as George and Sapnap were screaming at each other in the background—but only in jest, of course. Everyone knew they loved each other, that they all loved each other. There was no denying that theirs was a house full of love.

[13eyond13]

When reading a book or watching a series, have you :

a. Finish a book or a series, even when you dislike the mc until the end but love the story (What's the title?)

b. Finish a book or a series, even when you dislike the story but love the mc (what's the title?)

c. Finish a book or a series, even when you dislike the mc and story but love the worldbuilding (what's the title?)

d. Finish a book or a series, even when you dislike the mc, story, worldbuilding but still finish it for whatever reason (what's the title?)

Thanks if you want to answer.

Hey, sorry to take a while to reply! And thanks a bunch for sending all these interesting questions 😁 I'm just going to answer about books because I quite honestly almost never finish any TV shows, even when I like them.

(A) Finished a book or show where I disliked the main character to the end, but liked the story:

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson is a great little novel where the main character/first-person narrator is probably one of the most interesting and well-done things about it, but also I can't say that I normally felt many warm and fuzzy feelings toward her either! I don't want to give much about it away, but I'd say this book fell into this category for me.

(B) Finished a book or show where I disliked the story, but loved the main character?

I finished the whole 5 book Tom Ripley series by Patricia Highsmith almost entirely because I got really attached to hanging out with Tom throughout The Talented Mr. Ripley (it's by far the best of them, and quite frankly I don't think he even really feels quite like the same complicated character anymore in any of the 4 sequels). The other 4 books in the series ranged from fine to kind of bad to me, and the overarching story in them doesn't reach any kind of incredibly satisfying conclusion in the end. But something about Tom's perspective and the aesthetics his sinister little conman world just makes weirdly soothing and comforting company on a page to me, even when it's not quite as good or the same in the sequels anymore 😆

Oh ALSO the Nana manga series probably falls into this category for me! The story started amazing and then got SO depressing and frustrating to follow after a while, but I just got super attached to Hachi / Nana K. and kept reading because I wanted so badly for things to turn out OK for her in the end!

(C) Finished a book or show where I disliked the main character and story, but loved the worldbuilding?

Hmm. I might put the novel Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind in this category. Mind you, I'm sure that Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is not MEANT to be a likable main character, and the author certainly makes no great effort to endear him to you. And I feel like the plot/story does a fine job doing what it's setting out to do, and doesn't have anything overtly flawed about it. But I think for me the major appeal of the book and the reason I might read it again wasn't so much because the creepy ambition of Jean-Baptiste intrigued me (it honestly got a little more annoying and cliche for me to read once he decides the scent of virginal girls is the best scent he has ever smelled or whatever), but instead because the grotesque and lively version of 18th century France that it takes place in was so vivid and interesting a setting for me. And the detailed and original and imaginative way it focuses on the often-overlooked sense of smell above all else in the descriptions truly made me start thinking about familiar things in totally new ways, which I always appreciate in a good book!

(D) Finished a book or series where I disliked the main character, story, and worldbuilding, but still finished it for some reason?

Hahaha. Normally that's probably going to just make me DNF a series or a book, unless I'm committing to finish it for something like school or a book club or a challenge to myself! And I don't think there's anything wrong with doing that.

However I recently read all of It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover because I wanted to see what all the fuss (both the good and the bad) was about! To me it was a pretty mediocre book, and definitely not my taste, but I also think it's silly to say she's singlehandedly ruining young women's ideas of healthy relationships with her writing as well (which is what I kept seeing people on r/books saying, until I actually had to find out for myself... like is it ACTUALLY glorifying abusive relationships or not?). I found everything from the characters to the plot to the worldbuilding in the story pretty lame, but it also it pretty clearly wasn't trying to make abusive relationships seem great, either? Quite the opposite in fact. Anyways, glad I read it for myself and glad I finished it, but that will probably be both the first and the last one by her I read.