#but the one for hungary still comes on top

[lavendermemoriess]

lando's special helmet for singapore — liquid carbon.

[fangirl-dot-com]

👑Track 10 - King of My Heart

wow, it has been a hot minute since I've uploaded. I apologize for my summer hiatus but it was so busy, there was very little time for me to get away to put thought into this. I always believe in writing to my very best for you all, and not half-assing something. thank you for being patient, and good luck with this chapter (you're going to need it.)

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

In terms of the British back to 1776 in Silverstone, there was no sending the British back to 1776 in Silverstone. A turn one incident involving you, Logan, and Oscar saw all three cars DNF. It wasn’t a weekend to write home about. However, the three of you stood below during the podium celebration to be there for Lewis. You can’t remember if you had ever seen the older man cry, but his tears of fulfillment of the 104th win had you crying as well. 

And then came Hungary, which was a turnaround from Silverstone. You had found yourself not far behind the two McLarens, which would be an automatic podium for you if you could keep it steady. And then came the pitstops. 

“Which car is ahead?” you questioned over your radio as you saw a McLaren come out of the pits. Andretti had decided to pit you a lap before, hoping that your tyres would be to the best temperature by the time the rest stopped. 

“That is Oscar. He is 1.375 seconds ahead.” 

That had you curious since Oscar had been leading every lap so far. 

“Oscar?” 

“Correct. The undercut him with Norris.” 

“Are they going to swap positions?” 

“I like how you’re thinking.” 

“Tell Logan to be ready.” 

And ready he was. When Lando finally decided to swap back with Oscar, the two of you were ready for the sudden deceleration and were able to overtake him at the next corner. The crowds were going wild. 

Alex in the commentary box couldn’t stop yelling. “WHAT A MOVE FROM THE TWO LAMBOS! UNBELIEVABLE STUFF! NORRIS CANNOT BE HAPPY RIGHT NOW!”   

When you and Logan got out of your cars, you immediately rushed to each other. 

“Babe that was so crazy!” he yelled through his helmet. 

You gripped his shoulders. “I know! I can’t believe it work! I’m glad you were ready!” 

Logan looked around. “Where’s Osc?” 

The two of you turned to where his car was still parked, helmet still evidently on and him still in the cockpit. The both of you quickly stepped over and reached down in. It took you a minute to clock the tear streaks on Oscar’s face. However, you knew he needed to get out of the car for Logan to hug. The American male all but yanked the poor Aussie out to bring him into a hug. 

“Don’t you dare listen to what anyone has to say. This was your win,” you heard Logan tell him as they were in their hug. 

Oscar nodded slightly, mostly thankful that it would be the two of you on the podium and not his hot-headed teammate. He could feel someone glaring at him, but before he could worry about it, he was being ushered to the weighing stations. 

On his way, he was stopped by Max and Charles, the duo laying massive congratulations on him. 

“I’m proud of you, son,” Charles said with a wink, to which Oscar only rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks, dad.” 

Oscar might have imagined it, but he could swear he saw the Monegasque’s eyes soften.

Next was the Britcedes, who, like the first pair, was quick to congratulate him on his maiden win. Through all the words of encouragement, Oscar could feel like he deserved this win. Which, he did, but when your teammate hates you for it, it doesn’t feel as sweet. 

Yet, the Australian anthem sounded clearer than ever as he stood on that top step. He could see Mark down below, looking like a proud dad with his phone out in front, probably recording everything. 

The Aussie didn’t have even a moment’s notice before he was drenched in champagne. 

“Ok, ok, you can stop!” he tried to yell, but you and Logan weren’t having it until Oscar properly smiled, teeth and all. 

Later that night, Oscar scrolled through Twitter but was surprised to see so many positive comments about his win. Sure, there were some Lando accounts who wished a DNF for him next race, but the positive ones were all that mattered. 

Spa was a different story. 

After a short drought, you had finally found yourself back on the top step. Lewis was beside you along with Oscar. 

When you had pressed for a 1-stop during the race, the team was still questioning you. Yet, you were able to prove yourself right. You sighed in relief as you heard the Star-Spangled Banner for the first time in a while. As of right now, you didn’t care if you were leading the championship or in P2 or P3. You were just happy to be back on top. 

Until the post came later that night. 

You weren’t sure what to do. A part of your brain said that it was your fault. That you should have listen to the team and done a two-stop race. 

To have a win stripped away made you feel hollow inside. 

Logan got back to your hotel room almost immediately after the statements had been made. His heart broke to see tears on your face. He got in the bed with you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 

“Talk to me darlin’,” he whispered. 

You laid your head on his shoulder. “I just want to go home.”

“I’ll make that happen for you, don’t worry.” 

Your eyes soften as you looked at him. Your lips gently touched his, echoing the tender moment in the hotel room. 

“King of my heart. It was always you.” 

Logan got to work to get plane tickets for that night. If you didn’t want to stay, he would do everything to get you out as fast as possible. The two of you arrived in Florida the next morning. You sighed once you reached your bed and flopped face first into the plus covers. 

Logan put the bags down and joined you soon after. You were sleepy, but you didn’t want to fall asleep and mess up your schedule. 

“What are you wanting to do for the break, baby?” Logan murmured as you two just basked in each other’s company. 

Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt. “I think I just want to stay here. No racing, just the quiet.” 

Logan’s chest vibrated with a hum. “I think my family are going to St. Tropez for a bit. I can always say that I’m not going.” 

You turned your head up to face him. “No, please don’t miss out because I’m wallowing in self-pity. Go have fun with your family.”

He hugged you a bit tighter. “Do you want to see if Charles or Max would let you visit?” 

Your shoulders upturned in a shrug. “Maybe. For now, can we just stay here.” 

“Of course, darlin’.” 

“I know I’ve been sad the past few days but thank you for letting me hide in your shadow for a bit. You are so good to me.” 

“Always, my gorgeous girl.” 

Turns out, Charles was more than happy to let you come visit him when Logan went to St. Tropez. You definitely got enough puppy love from Leo to last a while decade. You enjoyed your time with Alexandra and her friends, often finding yourself shopping for new outfits. 

The gentle rocking of the yacht always made you so sleepy. It felt like one of Logan’s warm hugs that made your often busy mind grow silent. He was your anchor in the waves of your life, always keeping you steady.

Summer break was going great, until it wasn’t. 

“Y/n, have you seen Logan’s new post?” 

Charles had a serious tone, which made your heart drop. You quickly reached for your phone, unlocking it as quickly as humanly possible. Your hands shook as you opened Instagram. His post was the first one you saw. 

You heard a quiet gasp over your shoulder as you swiped through the pictures. They were all nice, except for the second one. A hand was placed on your lower back. Your head turned to Alex and then back to your phone, tears in your eyes. 

“That’s his ex, right?” 

“He didn’t tell me she was going to be there. It looks like they’re together, together.” 

Charles ripped your phone out of your hand before throwing it onto one of the plush couches on the deck. 

“He doesn’t matter. Let’s go swimming.” 

The cool water did wonders for your head, and you forgot about the whole incident. Later, Charles had told you that he texted Logan that your phone had fallen overboard and wouldn’t be able to respond. He also mentioned that you wanted to stay a bit longer and would see him in the Netherlands. 

You hugged Charles so tight, the Monegasque thought you might have left bruises. 

On the other side of the world, Logan was wondering how your phone fell off the boat and why you weren’t wanting to come back after the two of you decided to go to the Netherlands together. He was frustrated and pretty peeved. His phone had also fallen off their rented yacht, and his manager was up his ass about a summer break post for his Instagram. 

Something about how the people needed to know that he was doing fine amidst having a small gap in the championships. So, he decided to ask his friend if he could email his manager some pictures.

The rest of the time, he enjoyed the sun and tried to stay away from his ex, whom he had no clue was even going to be there. He took one picture because she wouldn’t stop whining about it. You weren’t there, and all he wanted was some peace and quiet. 

But now that he was in the Netherlands and it was race week, he could feel some tension he didn’t know was there. Your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes when you looked at him, and you refused to be physical with him in any ways. 

Charles was also giving him the cold shoulder. Thankfully, everyone else seemed oblivious as to what was happening. Logan still didn’t have a phone. Well, he did but his manager had yet to give it to him with promises of handing it over after the race. 

The podium in Zandvoort was nothing special. Max was able to win his home race after Lando made another error near the end, putting him from P1 to P5. You were on the podium, and Logan was a bit thankful that he was in P4 so he wouldn’t have to watch you avoid him. 

Charles completed you and Max, earning a P3 after an early overtake at the start. 

Logan had to watch with sad eyes as you didn’t even look at him once. 

When he got back to the hotel, he was surprised to see you sitting on his bed. 

“Hi baby,” he gently said. You only let out a sigh. 

“We need to talk.” 

The blond was quick to pick up on the tension in the air and nodded his head. He took a seat in the chair that was in the corner. He stayed silent as he waited for you start. 

“I think we need to have a break.” 

Someone probably heard Logan’s heart drop. His eyes immediately welled up with tears as he leaned forward and reached for you. His heart broke when you flinched back from him. 

“I-I don’t understand?” 

“Logan, I saw your summer post.” 

He cocked his head. “Yeah, it was me, my mom and dad, Dalton, and our friends. Baby, you knew this.” 

You rolled your eyes. “And?” 

Logan went over everyone that was there. When it hit him, he deeply sighed. “I didn’t know she was going to be there, I swear.” 

You weren’t having any of it. “Then why did you post that picture of her and you? You made me look like a fool, Logan.” 

He winced as the harshness of his name escaping your lips. 

“I didn’t. My manager did because my phone fell off the boat. I would never do anything with her darlin’ you know this.” 

The tears that were in your eyes finally fell, putting the last nail in the coffin that held Logan’s heart. 

“I’ve been hurt before, and I think I just need to step back.” 

Logan’s head fell between his hands. He reached out for you once again, and this time you didn’t flinch. Once your hands were in his, he slowly got down on his knees in front of you. His sad blue eyes looked into yours. 

“I will wait for you until you’re ready. I promise you.” 

You gently leaned down and connected your forehead to his. “Thank you. You are so good.” 

After a bit, you stood up and grabbed your duffle bag that was on the bed. Logan refused to watch you go, and the minute the door closed, his sobs echoed in the now empty room. He didn’t care if you heard him or the room next door, but his heart hurt. 

He was getting to the point of hysterical when he pulled out his new phone. He immediately went to Instagram and deleted the post. It wouldn’t change anything, but it would stop future damage from being done. 

Logan sat alone on the bed, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t call anyone that was close, scared of the repercussions from your little family. He scrolled through his contacts until he found a name. 

Praying that he would pick up, Logan brought the phone to his ear, whispering “Please pick up” over and over. 

Finally, the dial tone stopped, and a voice sounded in his ear. 

“Logan?” 

“I messed up, Alex. And I don’t know how to fix it.” 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry648579 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[maxlarens]

OP: i can’t complain but i will

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri

word count: 2.4k+

an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!

I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out

Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.

His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—

No one’s cheering for Oscar—

Tom is on the radio.

Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.

Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.

Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.

A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.

He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.

He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—

Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.

He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.

And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.

Fuck.

So Oscar grins and he bears it.

He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—

That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…

He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.

Oscar gets it more than anyone.

II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay

Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.

It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.

He’s trying to be okay.

He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.

And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.

It’s making him crazy.

He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.

You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.

Fuck, and he would—

He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.

Lando frowns, his back to the lens.

Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.

Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—

Speaking of Oscar.

He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.

Because it hurts.

Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.

Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.

Some chained, angry dog on a leash.

Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.

It’s enough.

III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal

You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.

It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.

Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—

Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.

You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.

You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.

It's making your heart ache.

You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.

And it's fucking unfortunate.

But it's them. So it's fine.

You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.

But they're trying.

And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.

So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—

It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.

Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.

"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.

You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.

"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."

"Yeah," you whisper back.

You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.

"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.

You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.

"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.

You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.

Lando clears his throat.

In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.

You laugh, just a little.

Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.

Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.

“Hey,” you smile warmly.

He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.

You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.

“You okay?”, you ask.

Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”

You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”

He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Yeah,” because you get it,

Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—

Speaking of.

Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.

“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”

You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.

Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—

You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.

You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.

Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”

You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—

“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—

and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.

this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.

ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!

[pastryfication]

Can you please, if you'd be so kind, do one with Oscar x driver!reader, and him proposing on media day, when they're talking in front of people? And Lando has to hype him up before. 🤭

hi!! thank you for your request!!

i can’t imagine oscar proposing in front of so many people—i think he’d be more the type to do a private, intimate proposal—so i’ve changed the request a bit. i hope you still like it!

just say yes | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader

content warnings: mentions of hungary 2024… also, this is messy! i’m not even sure myself what is going on.

the race hadn’t worked in your favour. starting p8 and moving down to p11 wasn’t good enough. just out of the points, in a race with so much potential, wasn’t good enough.

in the final lap, you wanted nothing more than to exit the car, throw away your helmet and hide yourself away in the hotel. but then, your race engineer turned on the radio and delivered the message you had waited to hear for so, so, so long. oscar had won the race. oscar passed the finish line in first place.

now, after such news, your eagerness to finish the race wasn’t build on the need to sulk, but instead, an eagerness to celebrate your boyfriend.

as soon as you were out of the car, you were running towards were you knew he would be. the smell of burnt tires and gasoline faded to the background and you threw yourself against him, race suite and helmet still on, and enveloped him in a hug.

you were so happy you wanted to cry. he deserves this more than anyone else and to see him achieve it was a dream come true for you. as he decented the podium, you were in the crowd and clapped louder than anyone else.

oscar had found your face in the crowd as he stood on the top step. he smiled brightly when your eyes met, and when lando initially ignored him and he felt the world slowly crashing down on his happiness, your silhouette was what he sought again.

you were there. you were always there. even when you had a shitty race yourself, even when he could see how sad you were about the position you ended up in, you still came to celebrate him. and you poured your entire heart into the celebration, pushing yourself into the crowd of papaya to be closer to his beaming face.

too caught up the the giddiness you felt, you truly hadn’t noticed anything wrong until oscar pulled you aside just before your media duties. he wasn’t smiling quite as bright as he was supposed to, considering he just had his maiden win. he explained, voice a bit strained, that he had been allowed to pass lando. he told you how the win didn’t feel completely like his own, like he didn’t quite deserve it, and you listened with a frown on your face.

this was his win. he deserved it. he earned it fair and square. and you told him exactly that. you told him while holding him close in another hug, your mouth up close to his ear so only he could hear the sweet words you whispered.

as you leaned your head on his shoulder and comfortingly rubbed his back, oscar mind began to cloud with thoughts of the ring in his trouser pocket. barely a hundred meters away, tucked safely away in his jeans in his drivers room, lay the diamond ring he so delicately had picked out with your sister.

he wanted it then, he wished so desperately to have magical powers so he could make it spawn in his hand, but he didn’t, so instead, he took your hand in his and dragged you along.

“where are we going?” you asked, but it was for deaf ears. he had a mission and he was going to accomplish it. he was going to propose right then and there. he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

୨୧

the reporter had to fight hard to hide the smirk when he spotted the diamond on your finger. it stood in stark contrast to the dull race suit hanging from your waist, sparkling prettily against the sweaty fireproof shirt clinging desperately to your damp skin, compliment the op1 cap on your head perfectly.

“what is it i spot on your finger?” he asked, microphone pushed up against you eagerly in await of your response.

“well, what does it look like?” you answered, showing it to him with a joyful smile adorning your face.

“i guess your boyfriend wasn’t satisfied with just a win.” the reporter laughed.

“fiancé.” you corrected. “and my fiancé is quite satisfied with his amazing win. but you can never get too many things to celebrate.”

[latenightdaydreams]

I can't stop thinking about Mafia Konig who never let his wife wear bras because once she complained about how uncomfortable her bra is. And he just loves to circle his finger on her nips through the fabric whenever they have meetings with allies, in front of everyone! But if any guys dare to make dirty jokes about her body (how plump her ass is, how round her breasts are, etc) he will shoot that mfker in the middle of his eyebrows in a heartbeat. That's so disrespectful respectfully 😩😍😍 thank you for accepting a lot of my previous requests, love youuuuu🎀🎀🎀

Ofc!!! 🩷🩷 I love breast man König

Mafia!König x Braless!Wife (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw fem/afab, blood, gun violence, groping

1.0k word count

.

.

König has always loved the fact that you are a curvy woman. When he first saw you, you were dating one of his associates. He charmed you with his Austrian accent and icy blue eyes. Soon he had you coming to his office late at night, buying you expensive gifts, and bringing you home. One day, your ex showed up at a meeting with his boss, König, to just see you sitting on his lap. Your breasts were so large and filled his hands, and he knew you were his. Your body is just perfect for him. He can never keep his hands off of you; no matter what. That’s why he married you after only six months.

Your breasts are so large, bras are very uncomfortable. The underwire is always digging into you, the straps never feeling right on your shoulders. Sports bras never fitting right, always too tight. That’s when you approached König about the idea of giving up bras all together.

Obviously, he agreed quickly. Bras were only another barrier in between him and those bouncy, perfect pair of tits. König bought you light colored or sheer fabric tops and dresses. Your breasts are marvelous and deserve to be shown off.

König, seats you on his lap, you’re wearing a cream-colored shirt that clings to the curve of your breast naturally sitting on your chest. One of his hands is busy sifting through papers. The other squeezes your breast. Fingers slowly rubbing circles around your hardened nipple. You squirm over his erection as you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“Sit still, Liebling.” König whispers into your ear, his warm lips kiss your neck tenderly before looking away.

The table you’re sitting at has seven men seated, associates of König. They all look at your breast, watching as König’s finger begins to pinch and tug at your nipple that is visible through your shirt. They all share glances with one another; eyebrows raised with cheeky smirks across their lips. Some men had to adjust themselves as they watched König’s display of affection.

One man clears his throat. König’s eyes shoot in his direction. His gaze bore into the man waiting for him to speak.

“-Uh, sir, we have a shipment coming in from Hungary on Wednesday.” His eyes glued to your breasts as he speaks makes him forget his train of thought. “There are no set plans on who will be at pick up.”

“Mein Gott, your breasts are perfect.” König ignores the man to focus on you.

The man looks around at everyone’s eyes glued to you. “Sir?”

“You. Take Johan as well.” König’s attention shifts from you to the men. He notices their lustful gaze.

An awkward silence falls across the room as König pulls your shirt from the back as he looks over your shoulder at your breast. He perfectly sees the texture and color of your areolas and nipples. Perfection.

He continues to hold the back of your shirt with one hand. The other comes around and squeezes your breast. Cupping them in his hands before running them over your nipples, making you moan quietly. You turn your head to him and lift his hood slightly to kiss the pale skin of his neck. His cock is painfully hard. He cannot wait until this meeting is over so he can fuck these beautiful fucking breasts.

“Is that all we had to discuss?” König asks in a snappy voice.

“I can’t blame the guy; I’d want to hurry this up too.” One associate whispers to the one sitting next to him.

König hears him and smiles. His smile quickly disappears once he hears what the other man’s response was.

“I’d love to squeeze those massive breasts.” He lets out a low whisper before they laugh together.

König’s eyes fall on him, the both of them, and just glares. They don’t notice his gaze just yet, so they continue.

“Yeah, well, she was Christoph’s before, so we might get our turn.” They chuckle between them.

“Excuse me, my love.” König gently takes you off of his lap.

You stand and look up at König. His large hands come down and caress your face gently. “Take a seat Maus.”

König slowly walks past you around the table, his footsteps loud as he walks. He stops right behind the two men that were talking about you. Everyone at the table had eyes on the two men. Their fear was palpable.

König leans down slightly before whispering, “You know, this table isn’t big at all. And my hearing is wonderful.”

“Sir, I was just-”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before König quickly withdrew his gun and shot the man in between his eyes. His body lingered upright for a moment as everyone stared with wide eyes. Finally, the body fell forward onto the desk, causing a loud thump.

There was shock written all over the face of the man, sides of him that got all the blood splatter. König then turned the gun to the man that said he might have a turn with you in the future. His icy blue eyes bore into the man’s soul, almost.

Shaking, the man got out a short sentence. “I- I didn’t mean it…She’s your wife…”

“She is.” König nods and looks over at you sitting in his seat.

Your nipples are still hard and your breast jiggle lightly as you breathe rapidly from everything that just happened. My god you’re so perfect.

Without looking back at the man, König shoots him too. He puts his gun back into his holster and looks around the room.

“Anyone else have anything to say?”

A unanimous “no sir” breaks out across the remaining five men. All of them are too scared to look at König or me, so they keep their gaze down at the wooden table. König scans the table and looks at how they cower in fear.

“Gut.” König begins to walk back over to you. “Now, where was I?”

[disneyprincemuke]

everything at 18, but nothing at 22

alternatively: times she finished in the points while he dnfs

in which the drastic difference in their performance in their career seems to finally be catching up to them

(series masterlist)

-> australia, 2023

she simply cannot wipe the permanent smile on her face. she runs into her garage, straight from weigh-in, immediately greeted by blythe and ciara who are quick to take her in for a hug.

"oh, i made the points!" she laughs, jumping in a circle with her sisters. "can you believe it? i made history just by finishing in the top 10 today!"

"i told you you'll be amazing!" ciara puts her hands on her older sister's cheeks, before quickly pulling her in for another tight hug. "you did so well on the track amidst all the chaos!"

"history in the making with you just being here!" blythe shrieks, grabbing her shoulder. "you were amazing on the track. half the grid retired - did seb tell you?"

"he did," she laughs, slowly settling down as she stands on her feet. "speaking of that, i've got to speak to logan."

"no need to look around, i've got him here with me," oscar's accent fills her garage. "good job finishing above me, mate."

another shrill shriek escapes her mouth as she hops over to the two boys still in their race suits. she is received by oscar first, whispering neverending praises into her ear as they sway in their spot. she rubs circles on his back as they exchange compliments, both proud at their feat of achieving points in arguably one of the more chaotic races they've found themselves in.

as she pulls away, she meets a forced smile and sad green eyes as she is pulled into a hug by logan. "i'm so proud of you today. i stayed and watched the race just for you."

"baby, i'm sorry for the dnf," she whispers, her smile faltering slightly as she wraps her arms around his neck. she's lifted off the ground slightly, the height difference making their public hug slightly awkward. "this is only the third race - i swear it won't stay like this all season."

"no, don't worry about me," logan grins, pulling away from her. with a tender hand on her cheek, he quickly pulls it away when a flash goes off at the corner of his eye. instead, he settles for a hand on her shoulder and shakes her slightly. "today is all about you, ms. record breaker."

"for what it's worth, the fia is under fire for the chaos of today's race," she frowns, rubbing his sleeves up and down to offer a sense of familiarity.

their dream of getting into f1 together has finally come true. it's just a shame that they've got to keep their romantic gestures on the down low, or kept under wraps in fear of the backlash she might get.

"stop trying to justify my race," logan smiles, squeezing a cheek. he takes a step back and huffs, tilting his head as he looks at her. "look at you - i could have sworn you were just that lonely girl oscar decided to befriend at karting. now you're in f1 making history."

her smile carves into something softer, and looks up at him with a glimmer in his eyes that he couldn't ever get tired of. "i wouldn't be here without either of you."

logan squeezes her arm. "sneak into my hotel room later? let's watch a movie."

"oh, max invited me for drinks at some bar tonight. celebrate my first points or something like that," she frowns. "come with us, please? oscar will be there."

"i'll be okay," he smiles. "then sneak in after the drinks. you're funny when you're drunk, anyway."

"i'll sneak some cocktails in your room so we can watch a disney movie together and cuddle," she giggles. at the call of her name by sebastian, mentioning something about an interview she has to go do now. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later." logan bends down, closing an eye when he feels her lips pressed against his cheek. "love you."

she turns around, already being pulled away by an impatient sebastian. she twists her body back to look at him. she mouths, "love you."

-> hungary, 2023

she presses her lips together, rocking back and forth on her feet as she awaits the door to open. when it does, it reveals a clearly dishevelled logan with a towel hung around his shoulders.

he's already in his sweatpants, while she stood out in the hallway in a romper, ready to head out for the evening. she scans her boyfriend head to toe and slumps her shoulders. "baby, you're not going out with us tonight?"

he pokes his head past the door, looking left and right before he lets her walk into his hotel room. she sighs softly, following him further into the room.

he drops himself onto the bed and shakes his head. "i don't deserve to be out and about celebrating after the race today. you go ahead and enjoy yourself, babe."

"my love," she hums, climbing onto the bed with a hand finding his neck to massage the muscle. "just because the race didn't go your way today doesn't mean you should lock yourself up here and be by yourself."

he leans into her touch, turning to lie on his side. he slings an arm around her waist while she comfortably sits on his bed. "i just don't think i should be outside. i'm an embarrassment." he nuzzles his face into the side of her thigh. "good call to keep the relationship behind closed doors - you'll be ridiculed for being with me."

"what?" she says softly, never really getting used to logan's harsh words against himself. she hangs her head low, trying to meet his eyes. "please, don't say that. i'm very proud of you. dnf or not."

"you and oscar have gotten your first points this year. i still have not," he sighs, turning to lie on his back again. "trust me, you don't want people to know you're dating me."

"i do want people to know i'm dating you," she coos, running her fingertip down the side of his face. she moves down and props herself up on her elbow to look over him. "it's just complicated right now - you know that."

"but you get what i'm saying, right?"

"i do," she lays on her stomach, pressing a kiss on his bare shoulder. "okay, let me tell max i'm not feeling great to head out tonight for drinks. do you want to go and eat somewhere just the two of us?"

"what? (y/n), please. you don't have to do any of this. i'm fine being by myself tonight."

"i want to be with you tonight," she grins. "let's go shopping? it's our first time in hungary."

-> zandvoort, 2023

"mate, have you seen logan?" she asks, approaching oscar with a frown. with a pepsi can in hand, she sips on the straw as her bright eyes scan the paddocks for her missing boyfriend. "usually, he'd be right by my garage after a race, but i've yet to find him."

"i can't say i've seen him since before the race," oscar frowns, realising that it's been a while since he's seen logan. he also scans the crowd, hoping that it's just her height that's hindering her chances of finding logan. to no avail, he doesn't find logan either. "is everything okay?"

she shrugs. "i don't know. he retired from the race again, did you hear?"

"i heard. do you know why?"

"no," she shrugs. "seb's got no idea either. can you let me know if you find him, please? i've got an interview i need to go and do."

-> singapore, 2023

"seriously?" she cries, tears rushing into her eyes. she takes the bouquet of loud colours and holds it against her chest. "this is the sweetest thing ever!"

"you like them?" logan grins down at the flowers that clash against the dark motif of her race suit tailor-made for tonight. "i saw them in the mall the other day when oscar and i were out. i was banking on the fact that you'd make it into the points today.

"even luckier that you made podium."

"this is the cutest thing ever," she smiles, sniffling as she drops her head to smell the flowers. "thank you so much, logan."

"you deserve it."

"but i'm sorry for where you finished today," she frowns, dropping an arm and moving to his side. she puts an arm around his waist and squeezes him slightly. "was the car not good today?"

"i think it's the street circuits not being very kind to me," logan sighs, shaking his head. "but, please, enjoy your podium celebrations. i'll join you for drinks tonight?"

"oh, really? you're joining tonight?"

"of course! my girlfriend just made history again," logan says softly into her ear. he squeezes her shoulder. "i have to be there to celebrate with her, right?"

-> qatar, 2023

"fuck!"

"logan, please. just sit down - you're really dehydrated."

"no, god. i'm such a fuck up!"

"hey, don't say that!"

"i retired again because i couldn't take the fucking heat!" he tugs at the roots of his hair, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

meanwhile, his girlfriend sits in the corner on a plastic chair with her lips pressed together as he paces around the room against the medical advice of every personnel who's attended to him.

still in her fireproofs, the younger girl nurses her helmet in her lap as she tries to calm logan down. "it's okay, baby. you weren't feeling well. you couldn't have done anything else."

"i could have just sucked it up and raced like everybody else!" logan frowns. "even you finished the race despite your period! what's that say about me?"

she scoffs, eyebrows furrowed as his statement manages to hit her the wrong way. "what are you trying to say? that between you and me, you deserved to finish more because i was hindered by the fact that i've got my period?"

regret strikes logan immediately, and she can see it in the way his look softens and his shoulders slump. "no, that's not what i meant. i mean, like-"

"it sounds like the way it sounds," she says softly, hurt lacing her every word. she shakes her head as she gets up to her feet, helmet hanging off her fingers by the strap. "i'll call you tomorrow, logan."

"(y/n), please wait. i'm sorry."

"i just need to be alone," she frowns, turning her back on him as she heads for the door. "feel better and stay put until the nurse comes back with an iv for you. but i've got to go - i just can't believe you'd say that to me."

-> mexico, 2023

"god, i'm no better at 22 than i was at 18." logan holds his face in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees as he finds comfort in the beanbag in her driver's room after their media commitments. "i don't understand."

it's another race where he's forcibly retired and she's managed to climb her way into the points. despite starting in the back of the grid that afternoon, she managed to challenge lando climbing up the positions on the track.

while she lost out to the more experienced driver, starting 16th and eventually climbing to 8th is no easy task. with sebastian in her ear, it was a slightly easier task that had a lot of people confused and shocked at where she suddenly finished the race.

realistically, it helped that the car was just feeling much better with the upgrades that the team brought in for her this weekend.

but logan unexpectedly had to retire towards the end of the race. which, was disheartening after the point that he got just last week in austin.

"am i just not made to be in f1? i don't get it," he says softly. "something's not right."

all she can do is sigh. nothing about their predicament now is easy: she can't fully relate to the low he's feeling because- well, she's doing fine in her rookie season compared to him.

she knows that and so does he. they try not to talk about it, but it's something that looms over their head whenever they're on social media or are attending interviews together. it doesn't make it any easier that fans are easily gawking at her presence when they chance upon them together in public.

while logan loves being her boyfriend, the past couple of years being the best times he's ever experienced, it's easier said than done to be proud of your girlfriend's achievements when you're always in the trenches week after week.

"i don't even know if i'll still have a seat next year," he sighs, throwing his head back to rest on the wall behind him. "god. i don't know what to do."

"i don't even know what to say," she whispers, crawling over to where he is. she places a hand on his knee and rests her chin on her hand. "i'm sorry you're feeling like this, lo."

"i know you don't get it."

"i know i don't. but i'm your girlfriend."

"you being by my side means more than you think it does." he breathes out with a sigh passing his lips, a hand resting on her shoulder as they sit in silence. "you can boast about your achievements to me, you know?"

"i know." she turns her head to look up at him. logan forces another smile, her worried stare igniting something in him to make sure that she knows he's okay. "but i'm with you even in your darkest hours."

"i'm extremely proud of how far you've come this season."

"i'm proud of how eloquently you're trying to hold yourself around me," she frowns, tracing circles on the material of his jeans. "but you don't have to pretend around me. we celebrate my achievements when you're feeling better."

"we can do both." logan sits up, a hand cupping her cheek to lift it up to meet his gaze. "your achievements shouldn't be tucked away in some box just because i had a bad weekend. i'm happy enough seeing you make history."

"logan..."

"let's head out to dinner with oscar tonight. it's a celebration - you guys have done so well."

"we can just stay in if you want."

"no more of that!" he cheers, his lips meeting the tip of her nose. "we're celebrating tonight. let's dress up, let's go out and take pictures, and then we can post about them on instagram while people speculate about how too close we seem to be. i don't care.

"you've done so much for the sport, you should be celebrated, babe. if you don't want to, i will celebrate you."

she sighs, rolling her eyes. "you're an idiot."

"but an idiot you love, yes?"

"an idiot i love, correct."

[vro0m]

the whole thing around how drivers will race even when injured and/or sick for the sake of their teams and the championships rlly gives me the ick honestly, especially bc of the message it's sending to kids in junior series, which is that they should be willing to sacrifice their health and wellbeing if it means they go up in the standings or whatever. f1 historically being a dangerous sport probably hasn't helped this idea, esp taking into account the glorification of things like niki coming back after his accident in '76 to keep on fighting for the wdc and senna's death, but the fact that it's persisted this long honestly can have some really dangerous implications. yes, these injured drivers go onto win races and championships (niki only losing the wdc at the last race in '76, max winning races and eventually the wdc 2021 despite blurry vision following silverstone, lewis winning formula a with a broken wrist (at 15 too which is properly mind boggling honestly), lewis getting pole in german 2019 despite having a 40ºC fever, carlos winning australia after appendicitis, oscar winning hungary with a broken rib) but imo it's setting a borderline dangerous precedent for other drivers and kids coming up through the junior formulas.

What annoys me about it is that the athletes themselves can't say no, in this sport or any other. They can't and won't say no because they've been taught to not listen to their bodies and to push through and sometimes that they are weak if they need a break* and that the chance they have to be where they are is fleeting and they need to be on top all day every single day to not lose it. So they won't say no.

Remember Qatar 23? Some of these drivers reported losing vision in the corners due to the heat and the effort and they didn't stop. Ocon threw up in his helmet twice and he didn't stop. George said he almost passed out before the end of the race. He didn't stop. Only Sargeant stopped.

Noah Lyles ran the 200m with covid and he might or might not have permanent damage from doing so. And he still went.

What all of them and the ones you cited have in common, is that nobody around them said no for them. No one in Lyles entourage said man that's a bad idea. His girlfriend spent the night turning him around in his bed because of how much he coughed and she didn't say maybe you shouldn't go. No one said maybe it's a bad idea even though he had severe asthma in his childhood. Carlos was in horrible pain from appendicitis and no one told him maybe sit this one out. They gave him painkillers and sent him back out. Oscar had a broken rib and they sat him in the car all the same.

And sure these are adults, not puppets, not victims, they are responsible for themselves as adults and they do have some responsibility in these decisions. But truly even if they wanted to, which I'm not convinced they do, these people can't say no. The people around them should say no for them. They won't because they're greedy. The athletes don't see it because they've been primed not to see it and/or they also are greedy (for money or other things). No one is there to say no. I'm betting if people (doctors) are saying no, they are ignored. Someone needs to say no.

*btw remember that Lewis, who did not race in Qatar 23 because of the contact with George, said a whole thing about how that's just how it is and if the drivers suffered they had to train more because they weren't prepared enough. they are all part of this culture and very few seem to even notice it.

[billybob598]

Look What I've Got (Sophia Smith x Reader)

Heyyyyy. I did not want to put this gif in because it makes me sad, but I thought it made sense with the story. Also, this is a F1 reader, there was a little vote between f1 reader or swewnt reader and f1 won 8-6 so sorry to anyone wanting the swewnt reader but this is a democracy. I might do a similar one later with a swewnt reader for those people. Anyways, it's a shit title and a shit ending so have fun reading! Remember any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.8k (My longest fic ever wooooo!!!)

You were a proud girlfriend right now. Here you were watching your girlfriend of almost two years, Sophia Smith,  playing in her first-ever World Cup. While you missed the group stage games due to the F1 Grand Prix in Hungary and Belgium, you were finally able to come to Australia. Your girlfriend didn’t know that you were here yet nor that you were attending the USA’s Round of 16 match against Sweden. Throughout the warm-ups, Sophia seems laser-focused, so much so that she doesn’t see you sitting in the stands wearing her jersey. Of course, it is instead her best friend Naomi Girma who spots you first. When she points you out you don’t think you’ve ever seen your girlfriend's head turn so fast. Her eyes land on you and she sprints towards you with a blinding smile.

“Oh, my God! Baby, I’ve missed you so much!” Sophia squeals out as she hugs you tightly. 

You chuckle, “I’ve missed you too, love.” When you pull away from the hug, Sophia immediately connects your lips. You reach back and slip your arms around her neck, trying to deepen the kiss. Gagging sounds come from beside you. Sophia groans and tries to chase your lips when you take your lips off of hers, suddenly aware of all the cameras, family members, and teammates surrounding you. You give her a weak smile and slightly push her back to the field. 

“Nooo, I wanna stay with you,” she pouts. You find her pouting adorable, but as much as you want her to stay with you, you know that she has to go continue to warm up. 

“Hi Y/N! I’m your favourite player right?” Naomi yells from across the field.

You wink at her with a cheeky smile, “Oh, of course. Girma on top baby.” Sophia gives her best friend a harsh glare before leaning in to give you one last hug.

“I’m your favourite though, right baby?” She asks quietly. You give her a subtle kiss on her ear while mumbling an “Always” to her. 

As the game gets underway, you watch nervously at every movement the US makes. Each time Musovic makes a fantastic save you can’t help the little groan of frustration that leaves your mouth. You can tell Sophia is starting to get frustrated with herself, whenever she feels she misses an opportunity she puts her head in her hands. The skin around your nails has been chewn. When extra time ends still in a 0-0 draw, your nerves increase tenfold. As Andi steps up to take the first penalty kick, Mollie, Sophia’s mom, reaches down and grabs your hand, squeezing tightly. When Sophia steps up to take a potentially game-winning penalty, you and her mom hold your breath. You can only watch in despair as her kick goes over the bar, her hands going straight to her head as the reality that she missed sinks in.

When the VAR call comes through and Lina Hurtig’s penalty is called good, your entire body deflates. The entirety of the US team breaks down, including your girlfriend. All you want to do is hold her and comfort her when you see her crying. It’s not her fault, you know that, but she’s already got it in her head that she’s to blame for everything. After a couple of minutes of tears and hugs among the team, the players start to make their way to their families and friends. You let Sophia sob into her parents' shoulders for a while. Finally, she pulls away and looks at you. You try to give her a smile and reach for her. She looks away and slowly starts to back away from you. The confusion you feel is represented on your face. 

“I’m sorry Y/N I just need some space right now,” she softly speaks. You nod, albeit confused but trying your best to be understanding.  After a long time in the locker room and taking their showers, the players start to emerge. Sophia shows up, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. She heads straight for her family once again. You hang back unsure of what she wants you to do. Her family leaves the two of you alone when her eyes meet yours. Opening your mouth to say something, you are caught off guard when she speaks first.

“Just don’t, okay?” Once again confusion writes itself all over you.

“Don’t what?” You ask.

“Don’t say that I did such a good job, that it was just unlucky I missed and that I’m still young, or some shit like that,” she says, a bit of anger seeping into her voice. You nod slowly, carefully choosing your next words.

“Okay, I won’t say that. I do think you did a good job, though. But, if you don’t think you did then whatever. All I know is that you made me crazy proud,” you state, trying to cheer her up. You don’t know what happened, but it seemed that sentence had set off Sophia. 

“Well I don’t care if you're proud of me, that doesn’t change the fact that we lost and it was all my fault! If you think that it wasn’t my fault, you’re astronomically wrong,” her voice rising with each word said, “I don’t care if you're proud of me. I don’t even know why you’re here, I don’t want you to be.” Her words sting. You take a step back, trying not to show just how hurt you are. 

“Do you really mean that?” You ask quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Sophia says harshly. Of course, she didn’t mean it. She has no idea why she’s saying these things right now, her heart cracking at how dejected you look. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel I guess,” you whisper, looking down at the ground to ensure that she doesn’t see the tears pooling in your eyes. Quickly, you turn around and make your way to the parking lot. Your eyes stinging and your vision blurring, but you’ll be damned if Sophia gets to see you cry. The second you disappear out of her sight, Sophia feels terrible. Why on Earth would she say that? “I don’t care if you're proud of me,” who the fuck even says that? You flew halfway across the world to spend some time with her during your summer break which was only a few weeks, and this is how she treated you? For the entire bus ride back to the hotel, everyone is silent. Some people are crying, but Sophia is kicking herself over how she behaved towards you. She sends you a couple of texts, which she can see you read but don’t respond to. Then, when the team gets back to the hotel, she tries to call you a few times. Each attempt just gets your voicemail. Naomi, who was aware of the situation, just told her friend to rest and try again tomorrow. Sophia relents and comes to the conclusion that you won’t respond tonight and that she just needs to let you sleep and calm down a bit. 

The next day, as soon as she wakes up Sophia tries to get a hold of you. She calls you again and again. While eating breakfast she’s on her phone, praying that you’ll reply to one of the many texts she’s sent you. Her friends are slightly concerned at how dejected the forward looks after each passing minute with no word from you. Finally, Ashley Sanchez suggests that Sophia goes to your hotel to try and iron things out. Their flight wasn’t until the next day so she had the time. After thinking about the idea for a bit, Sophia decides to just go for it. She does know where you are staying and figures it’s only a fifteen-minute walk over. Sophia plays with her rings the entire time, her nerves only increasing as she gets closer to the hotel. Finding your room easily, she stands outside of it for a few minutes, trying to plan out exactly what she’ll say. Eventually, she knocks and holds her breath. When you open the door, Sophia’s heart breaks at the sight. Your eyes were red and you looked tired. You had heavy bags under your eyes and your hair looks dishevelled. You were definitely caught off guard by Sophia just showing up at your door. 

“Hey,” Sophia speaks softly.

“Hey, what do you want?” Your words have a slight bite to them. Sophia winces at your tone, but she knows it’s well deserved. 

“Um, I just wanted to apologize, you know, for last night,” she says avoiding eye contact with you. You sigh heavily.

“Yeah, okay,” your girlfriend looks up at you confused by your words.

“Okay?” 

“Okay. What you said was totally out of line and right now I don’t particularly feel like talking to you,” your voice is flat and she can sense a hint of anger in it. 

“Oh…” Sophia trails off, now feeling stupid for coming over. Obviously you wouldn’t want to talk to her. “Right, sorry. But can’t we just try and talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about? I understand you were sad and disappointed in yourself, Soph, but you don’t get to just lash out at someone who didn’t actually need to be there. I chose to be there, for you, and then you say shit like, ‘I don’t want you to be here’ That’s not fair to me and you know it,” you breathe out, happy to finally get that off your chest. 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I have to do to show you that I’m sorry. Please just forgive me and I’ll make it up to you, please Y/N,” she begs, her eyes full of tears at this point. Now it’s your turn to avoid eye contact, looking anywhere but her eyes. You hate seeing her cry, more than anything. While your heart aches to just forgive her, you know that you can’t just let it go that easily. She’s said sorry, but that alone is not enough. 

“Soph, I’m sorry. I think I need some space.”

“What? No, no, no, please Y/N. I’ll do anything,” she continues to plead with you. 

“I’m not breaking up with you, okay? Don’t worry. I just need some time. What you said wasn’t cool and I just want to calm down a bit,” you say trying to keep the emotions out of your voice. You feel terrible at how heartbroken Sophia looks. “Sophia?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, that’s okay. As long as you're not breaking up with me,” she mumbles, wiping at the tears running down her cheeks.

“No, God no. It’s just a break,” you say quickly, wanting to make sure she understood. She smiles slightly at how panicked you looked. With that, she moves to walk away, but not before giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek. You blush slightly, watching sadly as she walks away. 

For the next few weeks, you and Sophia did not talk. You went back to your apartment in Monaco and continued to train and prepare for the Dutch Grand Prix. Sophia went back to Portland and after taking a week off recovering from the World Cup, rejoined training with the Thorns. Everyone could see how distracted Sophia looked at training and outside of it. They knew that you guys were on a break and that you were not talking to each other. While she was still playing well, her friends noticed that she was a lot quieter and that she didn’t seem to want to spend too much time with other people more than she had to. Your own team could also see how sad and distant you looked. So, a few days before you were due to fly to the Netherlands, your teammate and friend, Lando Norris, suggested you ask her if she wanted to come to the race.

A/N: I know that the race weekend is scheduled from the 25-27th and that Portland has a game on the 27th, but let’s just pretend that there is no game lol.

Agreeing with the idea, you send Sophia a text asking if she wanted to fly out to the Netherlands and watch the race. Sophia, of course, says yes and immediately starts to pack her bags. You send her the tickets for the weekend and the plane. 

As Sophia walks into the paddock, she’s nervous but excited. There was someone from the McLaren team showing her to the garage, and while she had come to a few Grand Prix’s before the car had been terrible then. Since the last time she came, the team had seen a ginormous amount of improvement. Now, you were competing for podiums and top 5 finishes instead of trying to not finish in the bottom 5. She was shown to your driver room and told that you were in a meeting, but you’d be done soon. After waiting for about ten minutes the door opens and you walk in, with your race suit hanging around your waist and the black fireproofs leaving little to the imagination. You stop your movements when you see Sophia sitting there.

“Hey, thanks for coming I know it was pretty last second,” you say sincerely.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Thanks for inviting me,” she responds. She notices you playing with your hands nervously. Deciding that you need to stop, she stands up and reaches out, grabbing your hands and encouraging you to play with the rings on her hands instead. You smile softly, finding it sweet that she always remembers you like to play with her rings. For a few moments, there was silence. Then you break it with your words,

“How have you been?” Sophia sighs, thinking back to the last couple of weeks.

“I’ve been…okay,” you give her a look, “What?”

“The bags under your eyes say differently.” The US player looks down, embarrassed. 

“Okay, so maybe I haven’t been that great.”

“Mhm, well I guarantee you’ve been better than I have,” you murmur. Sophia gives you a questioning look. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t focus, I did terrible in the simulator training. I think some space was good for us, but now I think I’m feeling better.” She smiles at you, raising her eyebrows, encouraging you to continue “Do you wanna get back together?” Sophia smirks,

“I thought we didn’t break up? We were just on a break,” she challenges. Your eyes widen at your mistake,

“Err, well, shit.” She laughs at the expression on your face. “Well, whatever we were on, do you want to stop it now?”

“Yes please,” she requests. You chuckle lightly, before wrapping your arms around her neck. She smirks and rests her hands on your hips then leans in slowly. Your lips meet and start to move against each other. One of her hands moves across your abdomen, your abs tensing slightly under your fireproofs. She runs her tongue across your lips asking for access which you grant. Your tongues fight for dominance as she pushes you against the wall, deepening the kiss. After a couple more seconds, you pull away from each other.

“So, no more break right?” You ask teasingly. She fake ponders the question until you hit her shoulder lightly. She laughs,

“Yeah, yeah. No more break, babe” You grin and connect your lips once again.

For the rest of the weekend, Sophia is by your side. She loves hanging out with the mechanics and engineers. She also really likes Lando, who’s in a good mood for most of the weekend because the car is performing really well. Your girlfriend watches from the garage in excitement as you get your first-ever podium in F1 at Zandvoort. The Internet goes mad when you point and blow her a kiss from the podium, something which she returns. The team starts the post-race celebrations inside the garage while you are finishing up some media and debriefs. When you come running in everybody cheers and there are a lot of hugs and high-fives given out. You go straight to Sophia, holding your 2nd place trophy proudly.

“Babe! Babe! Look what I’ve got! It’s so shiny!” You shout happily. She laughs at the giddy expression on your face.

“Yeah I see it, love. It’s pretty cool,” she says while pulling you into a tight hug, “I’m so proud of you.” The smile that you give her melts her heart. For the rest of the night, you two stay tight together and drink the rest of the champagne in the bottle given to the podium finishers. A couple of weeks ago you thought your relationship was over, but now here you are with your girlfriend proudly beside you for one of your lifelong dreams. It doesn’t get much better than that.

[joblrcensus]

it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌

before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3

so buckle up and let’s get into it

general questions

Which continent are you from?

Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.

Which country are you from? (optional)

With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)

Drumrolls 🥁…..

Finland - 29

UK & USA - 15

Germany - 11

Poland - 9

Italy - 8

Australia - 7

Sweden - 6

Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5

Croatia, Slovenia - 4

Czechia, France, Romania - 3

Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2

Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1

How old are you?

45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.

Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?

Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈

Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no

tumblr activity questions

How do you participate on JOblr?

a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters

Do you post any of the following?

It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶

Do you also post about Käärijä?

Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much

50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom

joker out questions

How did you find out about Joker Out?

Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:

finding out about JO through Käärijä

through a music blog review

on slovenian radio

Who from the current members is your favorite?

One of the hardest questions but it had to be done

So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:

Bojan - 69 votes

Jan - 42 votes

Kris - 40 votes

Nace - 35 votes

Jure - 17 votes

Have you been to a Joker Out concert?

I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹

If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?

Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple

If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?

Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.

Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?

Drumrolls again 🥁…….

BoJere - 58 votes

BoKris - 57 votes

Jance - 56 votes

The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:

BoMartin

Jan/Jure

Kris/Jure

Nace/Kris

Nace/Jere

poly!JO

aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!

[froot-batty]

post this bird when they least expect it

(LORE BE DOWN THERE)

Oswald Cobblepot was born to a poor family in a small Hungarian village, the eldest child of what would come to be six children. From the moment he could function by himself, he was expected to take up responsibilities around the house - taking care of his siblings, earning a little extra money when he could. Not because his parents were neglectful, but because they were trying to scrape together what little money they earned from multiple jobs. Oz had to help out somehow, because there was no one else to do it.

Oz was 12 when they left Hungary. His father had gotten desperate and had turned to working for some bad people in order to provide for his family. When continuing down that path grew too dangerous, they fled to Britain, where their life was only a tiny bit better. They were still poor, but by now Oz was able to get a couple of real jobs (through lying about his age) to help properly support the family. However, by his early teen years the symptoms of his IED had begun to develop and show, and his frequent outbursts oftentimes got him sacked or even, on a couple of occasions, jailed for short periods of time.

Though he tried his best to keep his head inside of his home, it was something he couldn't control. He would always feel awful about being cruel to his family after the fact, but he had never been the type to apologize with words, so he decided that to pay them back, he needed to provide even more for them.

This is when Oswald began to dip into criminality. He couldn't keep a proper job, but peddling drugs or breaking bones worked just as well (and even paid better, in most cases). His outbursts even helped him, giving him a reputation amongst low-level criminals that eventually grew into recognition from bigger ones.

These more powerful criminals could see that under the anger and the violence, Oswald was actually incredibly cunning when he was allowed to be. He could come up with schemes that, while risky, did prove to pay out in the majority of cases. Eventually, one of Oswald's more frequent employers and a major crime boss decided to take him in, impressed by how naturally he'd taken to the criminal life.

It was through the experience within that crime family where Oswald really honed his skills. He learned how to be intimidating and send a message without doing more than lifting a finger. He was never able to tame his reactions to the slightest provocations, but he learned how to be less impulsive. Throw his tantrums in the moment, but properly plan after he'd calmed down.

With the trust and wisdom gained from this family, Oswald grew...cocky. He felt untouchable; like he could master the game he'd only recently been taught. The money was coming in, he was respected, feared...and it made him feel on top of the world.

This was when he made a plan. A plan that would get him and his family all the money they needed to leave the country and start somewhere new, somewhere where Oswald could create his own criminal empire and shower them all in all the riches they could ever imagine.

He went behind his employer's back and started to feed information to the other crime families. Things that would not only distract his boss, and leave him and his property vulnerable, but endear him to the other families. Slowly, through a lot of verbal manipulation and betrayal, Oswald stole....a ton of money, from a lot of different people. It only made him more and more confident.

Still, despite all he'd done to get where he was, he hadn't really understood that people in this business do whatever it takes to get ahead. Someone snitched on him to his boss, and he was very quickly dragged right back to where he'd started. Oz was briefly tortured for his disloyalty (where he got his blind eye), and then dragged to a scrap yard, where he was put into an old car under a car crusher.

Luckily, the scrap yard they took him to used a very outdated, very slow machine, so Oz was able to figure out a way to escape undetected. It did, however, leave him with a permanently mangled leg, which he didn't have the means to treat at the time. Instead, he used the remaining time to put his escape plan into action. He collected the money he'd squirreled away and took his forged documents onto a boat headed to America, never saying a word to the family he'd leave behind. As long as the world thinks the person he used to be is dead, they're safe, so he's accepted he can never speak to them again.

Gotham City, the world capital of crime, was the perfect place to build his own criminal empire. He doesn't regret anything that lead to where he is now, but sometimes he does miss what he used to have, though he'll kill you before he admits it. But the way he treats the younger members of the rogues gallery - like wayward younger siblings to reluctantly corral - proves that there's a heart somewhere under all of that ice.

[mariacallous]

Europe’s center of political gravity is veering to the right.

Center-right and far-right parties are set to take the largest number of seats in Sunday’s European Union election in the most populous nations: Germany, France, Italy, Spain and Poland.

France led the rightward lurch with such a crushing victory for the far-right National Rally that liberal President Emmanuel Macron dissolved France’s parliament and called an early election. Early results suggested the National Rally would win some 32 percent of the vote, more than twice that of the president’s party.

“The president of the Republic cannot remain deaf to the message sent this evening by the people of France,” National Rally’s President Jordan Bardella told his supporters at the Parc Floral in Paris.

In Germany, the center-right is cruising to a comfortable victory, with the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) coming second and beating Chancellor Olaf Scholz’s Socialists into third place.

Voters across 27 nations have voted over the past week to select 720 members of the European Parliament, who will serve over the next five years. Their first main role with be to approve or reject the main candidate for Europe’s top job: president of the European Commission.

In a Continent that has sought to exorcise the ghosts of fascism for eight decades, the scale of the presence of far-right will be one of the hottest topics of conversation.

Even though they are highly unlikely to be able to coordinate as a unified group inside the European Parliament — thanks to divisions on topics such as Russia — they will still be able to influence the overall direction of the EU, on everything from immigration to climate policies.   

Collected together, the radical right parties would theoretically represent the second biggest bloc in the Parliament — being on track to come first in France and Italy, and second in Germany, the three biggest and most important countries in the 27-nation bloc. In Italy, Giorgia Meloni’s right-wing party secured the most support, projected to be about 28 percent.

The far-right is also expected to win in Hungary, and picked up five more seats in the Netherlands. The center-right was comfortably first in Greece and Bulgaria.

The single most ominous warning signal for the future of the EU is France, given the scale of the far right’s win over Macron. All eyes will now be on whether France’s populist wave can maintain its momentum through the impending parliamentary elections and on to presidential elections in 2027 — where a victory for far-right leader Marine Le Pen would threaten to throw the whole EU into turmoil.

The official winner of the evening looks set to be European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen whose center-right European People’s Party will still make up the single-biggest bloc in Parliament. 

With early projections showing the EPP will secure about 181 out of the 720 seats in Parliament, the center right will be the dominant force but can hardly govern alone as it will be miles from an absolute majority in the chamber.

The main challenge for von der Leyen in the coming days and weeks will be whether she can strike a deal with the traditional centrist parties — the socialists and liberals — to build a majority of 361 or more in the Parliament.

“Today is a good day for [the] EPP. We won the European elections, my friends. We are the strongest party, we are the anchor of stability … Together with others we will build a bastion against the extremes from the left and from the right. We will stop them!”

Her supporters replied with chants of “Five more years.”

In all, the three big center groups look set to have just over 400 seats. That means von der Leyen’s reapproval will go down to the wire, because she will be rejected if only about 10 percent of lawmakers from the main parties rebel against their party lines. The rebellion rate is normally higher.

This raises a big question of whether she will need to fish around for other allies, ranging from the Greens to Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni’s right-wing Brothers of Italy.

Von der Leyen’s center-right is quick to reject the xenophobia and euroskepticism of the far right, but it knows its voters share the same concerns on the cost of living, migration and a sense that Europe’s traditional core businesses — manufacturing and farming — are being strangled by green regulation.

Staking out its ground in the culture war over the EU’s identity, the EPP opened its EU election manifesto with its commitment to Europe’s “Judeo-Christian roots.”

[umlewis]

Hamilton Says Ralf Schumacher's Coming-Out Sends "Positive Message"

Lewis Hamilton says Ralf Schumacher's revelation that he is in a same-sex relationship is a "positive message" for Formula 1, but feels more has to be done to promote inclusivity. Six-time F1 race winner Schumacher made the announcement on social media this week, posting an image of himself and his business manager, Étienne, with the words: "The most beautiful thing in life is when you have the right partner by your side with whom you can share everything." Schumacher posted another photo of himself with his partner a day later, saying: "Many thanks for the many congratulations and comments. We are very happy and thank you all." The younger brother of seven-time world champion Michael Schumacher is the fourth driver to come out in F1's history, and the first to do so having competed in the 21st Century. It follows Mike Beuttler, who drove privately-entered Marches in F1 between 1971 and 1973; Lella Lombardi, the first female driver to score a point, in 1975; and Mario de Araujo Cabral, who came out almost fifty years after the last of his five F1 race starts in 1964.

F1 drivers were asked in Hungary for their thoughts on Schumacher's decision and were full of support for the ex-Jordan, Williams, and Toyota driver, who made 180 starts between 1997 and 2007. Hamilton, who has championed LGBTQ+ rights and raced with the six-colored pride flag painted on his helmet in races staged in nations where homosexuality is illegal, said: "I think within sports it still has a long way to go. It's one thing saying that it's accepted, but it's another thing to make sure that people feel comfortable in the environment. This is a male-dominated space and, as far as I know, he is one of the first to publicly be open. I think we are very inclusive within our team, but I think the sport does need to continue to do more to help people feel more comfortable; to help women more welcomed in this space. I know there is a lot more to do." When pressed whether Schumacher's decision showed a change in attitude, Hamilton pointed to his and Sebastian Vettel's decision to support the LGBTQ+ community at the 2021 Hungarian Grand Prix, against a backdrop where the nation's government was looking to pass laws banning the teachings of LGBTQ+ issues to under-18s.

The Mercedes driver added: "I don't know if he felt he wasn't able to say it in the past, but I think it just shows that we are at a time when finally we can take that step and don't have to fear. So far it's got positive feedback from people, but it's a different time and it's changed who we are, and it's all started from Seb and I standing on the grid here, fighting against all the governments that are here, and in Saudi Arabia, and Qatar. And if Ralf felt that he was going to be able to do those things perhaps today, it may have shifted his mind, and even him taking that step sent such a positive message. And race drivers have got to do the same, and we need more of these people to be able to do that." When asked what more F1 could do, Hamilton added: "It's a good question. I don't know if I can come up with a solution off the top of my head, but I do know, more often than not, it's about conversation, it's about dialogue with key stakeholders. It's about how we're analysing how the accessibility is. It's getting information from people who do or don't feel included. It's engaging the community. It's easy to do. You could do a questionnaire for every single person that's here, and just have a few questions and just ask them honestly how they feel and what they feel could be done. There's a lot that you could do. But it's firstly speaking about it, rather than ignoring that it's an issue, and having a lot more of the priorities to bring it up and actually set some people a task and going about how can we make people feel."

[23fallencomets]

That's right, Daniel still has to prove himself because he doesn't have a suga daddy to buy him a seat. Hope this makes you happy and hope you enjoy watching checo wreck that car for the rest of the race.

okay so first, do not come into my blog and be rude. that’s not gonna fly here as I respect all the drivers regardless of their driving abilities.

The reason I said he has to improve is because in the last 14 races, his teammate Yuki has outperformed him in every race but 5 which were Bahrain, Canada, Spain, Austria and Spa. If we count in Daniel’s DNF in Japan, then will have to count in the double DNF in China.

Yuki is ahead of Daniel in the standings by 10 points! That means Yuki missed out of points in 6 races!! If anything, Yuki deserves that seat. We can blame it all we want on the car and team and strategy all we want —and i’m genuinely biting myself in the ass with this given the team i follow—but one made it work and the other is struggling.

Do I personally believe that Daniel is out of his prime? No! He clearly still has potential, it’s just that he’s currently being outshined by a teammate that is clearly doing better. Yuki himself thinks that he deserves a chance in the Redull seat.

Now, with Checo.

The first time he dropped out of the top five was in Emilia when he ended up in P8, in Monaco he was crashed out, in Canada he DNF’d, in Spain he placed P8, P7 in Austria, he got P17 in Silverstone and Daniel got P13, both of them out of the points. In Hungary he got P8 again and P7 again in Belgium. In 14 races, Checo missed out on points 3 times. The reason it looked bad was because he crashed out back to back.

Wanna know the difference? Checo was and is still scoring points. In the last 14 races, Daniel outperformed Checo once. Besides those three races, Checo has consistently stayed within the top ten.

Compare Checo’s 131 points and 4 podiums to Daniel’s 12 points and 0 podiums.

Another reason his performance looks “bad” is because of the Red Bull dominance. While it’s not completely wavering, Mclaren has shown how fast they are with how consistent they’ve been within the top 10 and top 5.

It puts the Red Bull Dominance in jeopardy if Checo continues to place lower than the Ferraris and Mclarens, who again, are their biggest competitors right now.

Had it been any other team, they would have been satisfied with Checo’s placement but because it’s not just any team, it puts an insane amount of pressure on Checo.

And the car is bad!! Checo has been saying that he’s been struggling with it and no one bats an eye, but the moment Max struggled to pull a miracle out of his ass at the Hungarian GP, everyone started pointing out how shitty the car is.

Now, did Checo’s financial backing save his seat? In a way yeah. That’s the power of having personal sponsors and the financial means to back him up.

If Red Bull starts listening to their drivers and figure out what’s wrongs with the car, then i wholeheartedly believe that the two can climb to the top again and stay there.

And since it seems that you didn’t read the second part of my original post, I said that if Checo doesn’t improve then they’ll have no choice but to drop him and promote a VCARB driver and in parentheses i put Daniel even though i personally believe that Yuki deserves that seat.

In the end, that post was just my opinion but you had to go and be rude on my blog and I had to pull all this information out. Remember that there was at least three drivers in consideration for Checo’s seat, it genuinely could’ve been anyone.

[lewisinho]

✨lewis hamilton’s most underrated mercedes drives ✨🏎️

as promised, part 2 with some mercedes drives (by all means not an exhaustive list, but at the very least i hope, a worthy one); lewis’ mclazza drives collection for those interested: here

fav lil’ guy finally free from the clutches of ron dennis and mclaren, handed some rocketships, reunited with blond guy named nico and entering his domination era; live laugh love achieving zen era comes much later; this is lewis hamilton who is ready to fight god and anyone who stands in his way; there’s a ruthlessness to him and his driving, which he will use and he will use it well, he’s talented and good, you watch lewis in a car that can perform and it’s just such a pleasure to witness what he is capable of doing; he is a racer, first and foremost, and he is obsessed with winning, i mean obsessed, the way he celebrates every single win like it’s his very first; he loves and bleeds this sport, even if it can be incredibly cruel to him (and still is, to this day). and btw still the king of the fucking circus, don’t you forget it. chasing your own destiny and creating a myth out of your legacy, you know when david bowie said i always had a repulsive need to be something more than human… yeah lewis who’s afraid of not doing enough, of not being enough, he cannot remain human, he must be something more, he needs to be the best and he wants it more, and you know for a man who has ‘divine love’ tattooed on his hand, what does a narrative mean? for someone who believes that what he does is an art form and who describes racing as a spiritual experience, one must presume there is some form of divinity he believes he can obtain,,,anyway 🙃, allons-y: 

hungary 2014 🇭🇺 aka the usual hamilton hungarian cook sesh’ (he’s a bit insane around this track ngl)

arguably his most underrated non-win drive; pitlane start to p3 and features radio gold such as ✨i’m not slowing down for nico ✨💅 iconique if you ask me; the racing gods decided to plague him with brake issues and a hot seat burning his ass on top of his car already catching on fire during quali (give this guy a break lmao); everything was against him, and he still got a podium. also his overtakes during this race...and specifically THAT overtake on jev *chefs kiss*. i also endorse his criminal behaviour and his last-lap shenanigans with nico as well. 10/10 no notes.

silverstone 2015 🇬🇧 aka cloud watching pays off

lewis at silverstone. yeah. but add a bit of spice in the form of english weather™️. instincts of a man from stevenage and one prescient decision to pit for inters at just the right time before the heavens opened and you get a win by 11 seconds ahead of the next guy and a whole field of cars scrambling in the wet. luck or genius? they asked. 'i can see the clouds over stowe'. he saw the clouds and nico approaching, pulled the trigger on lap 43 and won the race, so you tell me. also features some celebratory donuts (he was so happy after the race, silverstone means a lot to him and you can really tell) and bono soaking wet on the podium 😁

brazil 2016 🇧🇷 aka the interlagos saga continues

whatever max verstappen was doing to nico rosberg in this race is one thing (objectively hilarious), but lewis hamilton, you see he won that race; babes after the race said he was watching the screens around the track while driving in the brazilian downpour, unbothered, incredibly moisturised, happy, very much in his lane, focused and flourishing; and as mentioned in lewis’ underrated mclaren drives post, lewis at interlagos is special, the lore, the myth of it all runs deep, and this is the first time he’s won! in the pouring rain, while trailing in a championship he will eventually lose, he’s finally achieved a dream he’s had: winning in brazil; the red flag period also features baby sharl nervously glancing at lewis in the haas garage (who’d have thought they’d trauma bond over a dsq in austin 7 years later…)

abu dhabi 2016 🇦🇪aka anarchy

yes, i included this race because i stand with my cancelled wife; they were calling for his ass to be fired after the race, paddy lowe was screaming in his ear to speed the hell up, blasphemy, heresy, how dare he disobey his team, how dare he want to win the championship! anyway, like yeah ofc it wasn’t entirely respectful, but it’s racing at the end of the day; a driver will prioritise himself, and lil’ war criminal lewis, i adore you very much (he had horner defending him lmfao while torger was sending him to red bull); the shitstorm in the media afterwards, goodness gracious tho; no wonder lewis and toto needed a sit-down in toto’s kitchen lol; but it’s such a beautifully well-managed race; of course he could go faster, of course he knew exactly what he was doing slowing down and speeding up in just the right places…all in one desperate but masterful attempt at winning the championship; in the end, it wasn’t in his hands, but it is still a great race to watch purely for the mind fuckery and mercedes being absolutely pissed. also, it’s very much an end of an era.

monza 2018 🇮🇹 aka one man and his machine against a nation of ~60 million people

maybe 'underrated' is the wrong word to use for this one in all honesty, people give his ‘18 post-summer break run its due honours, because this is lewis destroying the hopes and dreams of the tifosi, sebastian vettel and the ferrari establishment with maurizio arrivabene at the helm race by race, lap by lap; it’s lewis at arguably, his strongest yet, he danced in that w09, those magnificent quali laps, those races that he dominated from start to finish...but monza, oh monza, maybe there’s something so poetic about that race and starting the run of domination in ferrari land; it’s got lewis vs kimi!!! nostalgia merchants will absolutely adore this one because it’s just like those ‘07 races, also brilliant strategy from merc and lewis and his incredible, jaw-dropping race pace driving like a man possessed 

hungary 2019 🇭🇺 aka the infamous one that inspired spain '21

when lewis arrives at the hungaroring, you know the man is about to cook something worthy of a michelin star. add a two-stop strategy masterclass from one james vowles and you get an absolute classic of a race and if you know what happened just a week earlier (the trials and tribulations of hockenheim), it also feels like redemption; two cars fighting for the win, lewis banging in quali lap after quali lap as he hunts down max; clinical, faultless, and brilliant and it’s such a satisfying race to rewatch (bonus: there’s also jv on the podium and lewis looking incredibly proud)

spain 2020 🇪🇸 aka the pure brilliance of lewis and the w11

jallison’s monster, w11. when she first appeared in fp1 on a friday morning in southeastern austria, best believe the first notes of the imperial march already sounded prophetically around the styrian alps. an icon, a legend, she was the moment and we miss her dearly. pair her with one lewis hamilton, a man on a mission both on track and off it, and you will produce sexiness. purple helmet + black w11 legendary combo, the sheer cunt serving, the audacity, THE presence; i could mention any race from 2020 (notably, tuscany and portugal bc they fly under the radar as well in terms of lewis' performances) but i will add spain to this list, mostly because of what lewis said post-race about what he experienced during the race and why it epitomises the brillance of him as a driver: "i was just in a daze out there", "i was in a different zone then, didn't know it was the last lap" ; you don't reach perfection, but you chase it (as he also mentioned in the press-co), but there's something quite sublime in seeing him deliver such a performance, when he himself is left well, stunned; this is the race that could be lewis hamilton's 90 minute masterclass on tyre management.

hope you enjoyed these vroom vroom recs; might still yet do a merc 2.5 post cause there are a few other drives that also deserve a mention 💜🏎️

[acheronist]

🧛🏻‍♀️⚰️

disclaimer i am not a scholar or a historian or an archaeologist. i just like vampires in a freak way and read a lot of weird articles + listen to podcasts and think about this a lot.

so the vampire burials that i know the most about were done in the general region of like... hungary / slovakia / romania / poland kind of following along the line of the carpathian mountain range. but also then in like, early america as well for some reason. random ass 1700s vampire hysteria panic swept the nation (all 25 square miles of it).

anyways so this area in europe is notorious for vampire folklore anyways so it tracks that where the european vampire folklore was originating = where people are most frightened of it for real. and so the vampire graves that have been excavated and studied are HONESTLY PROBABLY just the graves of like..... normal people who were ill in some way, and therefore cast into a suspicious light, and then died. but it was a fairly common belief that if someone WAS a vampire, especially prior to dying, then they'd return from the dead and attack and kill their family first before moving onto friends and neighbors and the rest of the community. bad for the community. so after the "vampire" in question died, the living would take extra steps to ensure that the deceased would not rise from the grave again and start killing them because well No One would like that! so one one hand its really kind of upsetting that-- essentially-- the dead were being accused and vandalized without the ability to protect or defend themselves AND THEN ALSO having their burial rites get screwed around with. sure you prevented the vampires but now we've got fucking ghosts. great work everyone.

and then on the other hand morbid freaky trivia is so fascinating to MEEEEEEE so here some of the most dramatic methods that i can recall from the top of my head:

dismembering the deceased's corpse ( with an emphasize on decapitation)

and for the decapitation, sickles or hand scythes were placed over the deceased's neck, so if they lived and sat up again, they'd cut their own throat

also rearranging the dismembered body (pieces) or the body (whole) in specific patterns

padlocking the deceased's feet together

placing bricks or rocks into the deceased's mouth, either breaking their teeth or making it impossible for any postmortem vampire zombie bite damage to be inflicted upon the living

pinning the deceased's corpse into the ground via steel or iron stakes to keep them from getting up. often stakes were stabbed thru the heart which is where the motif in media today comes from

but also sometimes removing the heart from the deceased completely and burning it also happened

burying the deceased with wreathes of garlic and poppy seeds and paprika peppers to act as wards to keep them where they were. which is hilarious also when you take into account how much garlic and poppy and paprika gets used in eastern european cuisine

and i might be making this part up LMAO but i feel like in my heart. and brain. that i remember a colonial american(?) story where an autopsy was performed on a recently deceased girl(??) whose organs still looked "fresh" and functional, as it were, and not like the organs of someone dead. because she was obviously rising from the dead and drinking the blood of the living which we can tell from her remarkably fresh organs. this was another great instance of vampire organ harvesting but i for SURE need to go try and find my source for this again.

and similarly, i also am like 90% sure I've read about exhuming someone who had been accused of being a vampire, and judging how their rate of decomposition was going, and if they looked too fresh and alive then they were a vampire and we can brutally kill them again. obviously differences in burial climates and situations would have no bearing or affect upon the body's rate of decay btw.

but then as we work our way up thru history, illegal body snatching also became an incredibly common thing as anatomists and doctors and surgeons needed the bodies to learn from. and I'm SOOOO so certain that grave cages / mort safes were invented because normal people did not want their corpses to be body snatched and turned into underground med student dissection homework. BUT ☝🏻 i have also seen claims that cages over the graves were put in place to keep the vampires IN the grave, not to keep body snatchers OUT of the grave. and then I went hmm. where have I seen big elaborate grave cages before?

mother fucking henry ford has a mort safe cage on his shit, so the only reasonable conclusion to all of this is that henry ford was a vampire. amen. my edible is hitting now and i cant think of a good conclusion to this post sorry. someday i will write an essay. or finish making my gay ass zine about this.

[raceweek]

Hey what happened in the 2020 season with Alex? (Sorry new fan and still learning)

omg you never need to apologise to me for not knowing things i literally know nothing

the 2020 season from the alexnation perspective was like being in a hamster ball being hurled around for 5 months straight basically but here’s the breakdown:

so for context 2019 was really really good for alex he was promoted as a rookie and he shunted a fair few times and most of the time wasn’t on maxs quali pace but red bull were the third quickest team so he wasn’t expected to win or anything. alex ultimately beat pierres points tally from his 12 races in the red bull within 7 as a rookie so like. whilst it was insane behaviour for red bull to promote him in the first place he did perform phenomenally

then we turn to 2020 pre season testing. mercedes was dominant as per (dreamy sigh) and the red bull was quick but looked. edgy. for both alex and max but ferrari were fucking nowhere so it was still like really positive for red bull bc it was basically two extra places gained and then. global pandemic. and then as a footnote to the whole you know. global pandemic. sebastian vettel was dumped from the love island villa (ferrari (everyone gasped))

and then! triple header one and the first race in austria had max running an upgraded front wing and none for alex and it was like understood i think like it wasn’t a big deal at the time

and then everything that could have possibly happened. happened. in the race and alex and lewis…yeah. but the world did in fact keep spinning!

and then alex got p4 in the second austria race (altho. significantly off of maxs pace in p3 for sureee) and everyone was like if only max had a rear gunner (wistful) which in my opinion is an insult to lewis and the w11 but whatever. nothing else really happened here other than horner and marko making kissy faces at seb during this time but that’s just contextfkdkd

so then the next race in hungary alex qualified p13 and even though max only qualified p7 and it was the third race of the season alex was getting eaten alive and george was on live tv like red bull are making him look like an idiot and he’s not an idiot and they need to fix it for him and it was like fucking hell what is going ONNN we haven’t even made it to the third race yet (like imagine anyone coming out and declaring this after australia quali this year like. wild scenes)

so then one week break and then triple header two started and during the races at silverstone they start talking in the media about when the best time to demote alex is even though the only times he’d finished outside the top six was brazil 2019 and austria 2020 which. pls consult youtube if you need further info here

they also changed alexs race engineer in silverstone so More turbulence altho completely welcome this time (simon rennie come back we love u, ur so sexc haha x)

then during the final triple header 2 race in barcelona he gets put on the most ass strategy known to man like with context this was criminal behaviour actually

and then one week break and then triple header 3 starts (do you feel like a hamster yet) at spa and unbeknownst to us all at the time but later confirmed by will buxton and dts horner is in the mf pitlane in spa propositioning seb like one more year and then you can come home which. have some decorum alex is behind you in the garage. but anyway in the general media everyone was gagging for pierre’s red bull return so there were bigger fish

anyway. SPA. they did this to my boy

and alex made the best out of it but as per the comeback kid episode of dts that everyone loves (🙃) alex was made out to be useless and it was like. wtf did you expect

THEN between spa and monza helmut marko was like oh btw alex hasn’t actually had the same parts as max for most races this year okay bye and alexnation was like…wtf. but then no one else really cared and it was like UMMM OKAY

and then monza happened and alex was in a first lap sandwich involving pierre and then second lap crashed into grosjean (alexs fault - live laugh love x) and had a huge chunk of his floor missing so finished p nowhere and then. pierre won and good for her i guess but then ex drivers were on live tv demanding alex step down for pierre which like no one has ever done this in the history of the sport as far as im aware so it was fucking savage especially when this was the first race alex had finished outside of the points for red bull in (with the exception of the two aforementioned events)

and then mugello wooooooooooooo!! alexs first podium!!!!!! i was gassed at the time but it was sort of sad looking back like if you listen to his team radio across the line from getting p7 in canada and then compare it to his first podium in mugello it’s. yeah! we were enduring it!!

and then sochi happened in its own weird bubble and alex was nowhere really got caught behind carlos hitting the wall at the first corner after a poor quali and that was that

then. triple header number four starts with horner giving alex an ultimatum of we’re backing you but we want results in the next three races or ur finished hunny which. okay

then first race of the triple header max ends up blocking alex in his quali run (live laugh love 2.0 x) and then:

YEAH

nurburgring was the they race me so hard incident. available to view elsewhere bc god knows im not reliving that!!

imola was again nightmarish. red bull media team said alex was working with a mental coach (patrick his trainer had got mental health qualifications basically) and was supporting him etc which. here comes paul di resta live on air laughing about how max wouldn’t need mental support. it was once again. brutal. especially bc he was getting a load of xenophobic abuse online already like fuck off

back on the track alex basically spun on his own but thought he had been hit and no one thought to tell him before he went into the media pen that he hadn’t actually been hit so it was fucking awkward and yeah twitter was brutal again

then istanbul happened. red bull looked promising but both max and alex finished well off so it was just whatever really lewis did a madness no one really cared about red bull

then final three races of the season started with the grosjean crash in bahrain which ended with alex on the podium and then checo won sakhir and alex wasn’t really there and then we were at the final race in abu dhabi where red bull officially signed checo (as confirmed by will buxtons analysis of the curtains. god i can’t believe this season was real)

but alex didn’t find out for like two weeks later when the season was well and truly over and was taking drinks to the factory for everyone and it was heartbreaking and then he didn’t have a seat and spent the next year saying it killed him so. yeah…TA-DA