#guy they're convinced they can fix

[carnage-queen-exe]

Had to go and filter tags for the stupid BG3 wizard guy cause none of you heathens have taste. Karlach. Karlach is the one true option. Get that weak shit out of here.

[harrysfolklore]

labyrinth - fc43

summary: as the only female driver on the grid, everything in yn's life was planned like a perfect qualifying lap. then franco colapinto had to show up. first, he was just that annoying new guy who took her best friend's seat. then he became the driver she absolutely couldn't stand (or at least that's what she kept telling herself) word count: over 13k + social media posts

folkie radio: GUYYYYSSS SHE'S HERE! i started writing this fic in september and it's finally her time to shine!! this is my first time writing driver!reader so please be gentle with me. also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! may all of your wishes come true

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,027,537 others

yourinstagram p6 in zandvoort ! happy to see max on the podium for his home race. see you soon monza 🇮🇹

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username1 LEGEND

username2 p6 with that tractor feels like a podium finish fr

username3 give your seat to danny already

oscarpiastri Well done stinks 👊

↳ logansargeant Don’t praise her, her ego gets inflated

↳ username2 BEST TRIO ON THE GRID

↳ yourinstagram you’re both so jealous of me

redbullracing Keep pushing ! 💙

↳ username1 FIX HER FUCKING CAR

username4 p6 in a redbull? just hand the seat to someone more deserving

francolapinto Amazing 🙌🙌

↳ username2 franco is such a fannn

danielricciardo Proud of you 👌👌

↳ username1 haters want to create this beef between yn and danny for the seat but him adores her

maxverstappen1 Look she’s a nice teammate

↳ yourinstagram you adore me 😤

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A knot forms in your stomach as you read the messages. Something about the tone doesn't sit right with you. You quickly head towards Logan's motorhome, your mind racing and your axiety creeping in.

When you arrive, Oscar is already there, leaning against the wall with a concerned expression. Logan sits on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Logan?" you ask softly, stepping into the room. "What's going on?"

He looks up at you, then at Oscar, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and resignation. "I… I'm not coming back for the next race," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. Deep down, a part of you had known this was coming. Rumors in the paddock spread faster than a Formula 1 car on a straight, and there had been whispers about Logan's seat for weeks. But you hadn't wanted to believe it. You'd pushed those thoughts aside, convinced that if you just ignored them, they wouldn't come true.

"What? What do you mean you're not coming back?"

Oscar pushes off the wall, his brow furrowed. "Mate, what happened?"

Logan takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Williams… they're replacing me. I'm out."

The room falls silent for a moment as the news sinks in. Then, all at once, you feel a surge of anger coursing through your veins.

"They can't do that!" you exclaim, your voice rising. "It's mid-season! You've been improving, you've been working so hard. How can they just… just throw you away like this?"

Logan shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "Apparently, they can. And they have."

A wave of emotions come crashing to you. Anger at Williams for their decision, frustration at the ruthless nature of the sport, and an overwhelming sadness for Logan.

Oscar moves to sit beside Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, mate. This is bullshit."

You start pacing the room, your anger building with each step. "Who are they replacing you with? Some pay driver? Some rookie who's never even touched an F1 car?"

"Franco Colapinto," Logan says quietly.

You stop in your tracks, whirling to face him. "Colapinto? The F2 kid? Are they out of their minds?"

Oscar tries to interject, his voice calm. "YN, maybe we should-"

But you're too fired up to listen. "No, Oscar! This is wrong. It's so wrong. Logan deserves better than this. He deserves a chance to prove himself. How is he supposed to do that if they don't even give him a full season?"

Logan looks up at you, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "I appreciate you having my back, stinks. But it's done. There's nothing we can do about it now."

You shake your head. "No, there has to be something. They can't just replace you with some F2 kid like that. They're out of their minds."

"YN," Oscar cuts in firmly. "I know you're angry. We all are. But right now, we need to be here for Logan. This isn't about us or what we think is fair. It's about supporting our friend."

As Oscar's words sink in, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. He's right, of course. This isn't about your anger or your sense of injustice. It's about Logan, your friend who's just had his dream ripped away from him.

The three of you have been racing together since you were kids, climbing through the ranks side by side. You've shared victories and defeats, laughter and tears. You've pushed each other to be better, to chase your dreams relentlessly. And now, one of you is being left behind.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I just… I can't believe this is happening."

Logan manages a small smile. "It's okay, stinks. I appreciate your passion. It's one of the things I've always admired about you."

"Remember when we were in karting, and YN nearly got into a fist fight with that kid who tried to push Logan off the track?" Oscar says with a small smile, trying to light up the mood.

"How could I forget?" +

Logan chuckles softly, "She was like a tiny ball of fury."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. "Hey, nobody messes with my boys and gets away with it."

"And nothing's changed," Oscar adds, giving you a fond look. "We've always had each other's backs, through everything. This is not the exception."

Without another word, the three of you come together in a tight group hug, a physical representation of the bond you've shared for so many years.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2,017,697 others

yourinstagram logan, you’re more than just a friend — you’re family. we’ve raced together since we were kids, dreaming of f1. to see that dream cut short for you is heartbreaking

your talent, dedication and kindness have always shone through. you deserved better than this mid-season swap. this sport can be cruel, but this feels especially unfair and i’m angry that my friend’s journey has been interrupted

but i’m also incredibly proud of you, logan. you have handled this with grace and strength and this isn’t the end for you — it’s just a detour. love you, stinks 🥲

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username1 IM SOBBING

username2 i still can’t believe this

username3 well hold your tears because you’re next

pierregasly Chin up, mate @/logansargeant you’re a champ 👊

alex_albon You will always be family @/logansargeant, It’s so sad to see you go

username4 that was cute now hand your seat to daniel or yuki

username5 THE FIRST PIC 🥺🥺 IM NOT OKAY

username6 oh she’s PISSED

username7 this is so unfair for logan

username8 colapinto has an enemy on track already and it’s her 😭

username9 the best trio will be incomplete now i’m not okay

username10 YOU NEXT BYE BYE

logansargeant Thank you for everything, go make me proud 💙

↳ username1 IM SOBBING AGAIN

liked by francolapinto, landonorris and 410,764 others

williamsracing Franco Colapinto to race for the remainder of the 2024 season.

username1 VAMOOOS

username2 hello?? hes cute

username3 OKAY I SEE

username4 good thing for the team, sargeant was just not it

alex_albon Welcome to the fam @/francolapinto 👊

username5 KIIING

username6 an f1 kid who's not even top 5 right now in the championship? risky move

yourinstagram not even giving logan a proper goodbye? yall suck

THIS COMMENT HAS BEEN DETELED

username1 OMFG YN WE SAW THAT

username2 YN 😭😭

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Monza is always a race to look forward no matter what team you drive for, but today, your excitement is just not there.

The paddock feels different without Logan's presence, you have always raced alongside him, and not seeing his face during a race weekend feels wrong.

As you make your way through the bustling crowd, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness and anger. Inside the Red Bull hospitality area, you find Max already settled in, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you approach, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up?" he asks, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," you slump into the chair, running a hand through your hair. "It just feels wrong, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Max nods, his expression thoughtful, "How's Logan doing? Have you talked to him?"

The mention of Logan's name ignites that spark of anger inside you again. "He's… he's putting on a brave face, but I know he's hurting. This whole situation is such bullshit, Max. Williams made a huge mistake."

Max raises an eyebrow, sensing the storm brewing beneath your calm exterior. "You want to talk about it?"

That's all the invitation you need. The words start pouring out of you, your voice rising with each sentence.

"It's just so unfair! Logan was improving every race. He was working his ass off, putting in the hours, doing everything the team asked of him. And for what? To be tossed aside mid-season for some rookie?"

Max tries to interject, "Well, Colapinto has been pretty impressive in F2-"

But you're on a roll now, barely registering his words. "Impressive in F2? So what? F1 is a whole different ball game. Logan was just starting to get comfortable, to really show what he could do. And now they've brought in this Colapinto kid who's never even driven an F1 car, who's probably a paid driver who's just going to waste everyone's times. What kind of message does that send?"

You stand up, pacing back and forth as you continue your rant. "Williams is making a huge mistake. They're throwing away all the work Logan put in, all the data they've gathered. For what? A gamble on some unproven talent? And don't even get me started on how they handled it. No warning, no real explanation. Just 'Thanks for your service, now get out.' It's disrespectful, it's short-sighted, and it's everything that's wrong with this sport sometimes."

Max watches you, a mix of concern and surprise on his face. He's never seen you this fired up before. "YN, I understand you're upset, but-"

"No, Max!" you interrupt him, "You don't understand because you'll never have the fear of having your seat taken from you out of nowhere. You're Max Verstappen. You're safe. But for the rest of us… we're always one bad weekend away from losing everything."

Max's brow furrows, clearly taken aback by your statement. "YN, that's not true. I worked hard to get where I am-"

"I know you did," you interrupt again, your voice softer now. "I'm not saying you didn't. But you have to admit, your position is different. You're a world champion. You're untouchable. But for drivers like Logan, like me… we're always looking over our shoulders, always wondering if this race will be our last."

Max is silent for a moment, processing your words. "I guess you're right, I've been in a secure position for so long, I forgot what it's like to worry about your seat." He pauses, then adds, "But you know, you're in a unique position too. You're the only woman driving a Formula 1 car. That's pretty special. You should feel-"

You cut him off, your frustration flaring up again. "Exactly! I'm the only woman here, Max. Do you have any idea how much more pressure that puts on me? Every move I make is scrutinized. Every-"

Before you can continue, you spot Franco Colapinto walking past the Red Bull area, chatting animatedly with his new race engineer. The sight of him in Williams colors sends another wave of resentment through you, and you turn away abruptly.

"I need some air," you mutter, storming out of the hospitality area, leaving a bewildered Max in your wake.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The sun beats down as you stand next to Oscar on the flatbed truck, waiting for the drivers' parade to begin. The usual buzz of excitement surrounding Monza feels muted to you, overshadowed still by Logan's absence and the presence of his replacement.

"Oi, what's with the long face?" Oscar nudges you playfully with his elbow. "You look like someone stole your last Tim Tam."

"Oh shut up, you dork," you can't help but crack a small smile, "As if I'd ever let anyone near my precious Tim Tams."

"Too right," Oscar grins. "But seriously, how are you holding up?"

You shrug, trying to keep your expression neutral for the cameras. "Oh, you know, just peachy. Nothing like a bit of midseason drama to spice things up, right?"

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Oscar rolls his eyes, "Come on, I bet you twenty quid you can't name all the Italian F1 circuits without googling."

"You're on, Piastri," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Monza, Imola, Mugello…"

As you're racking your brain for more, you notice Franco Colapinto approaching. Your playful mood evaporates instantly.

Franco's eyes widen as he gets closer, clearly starstruck. "Uh, hi," he says nervously. "I'm Franco. I just wanted to introduce myself."

Oscar, ever the diplomat, smiles and extends his hand. "Hey mate, welcome to F1. I'm Oscar."

Franco shakes his hand before turning to you, his expression one of barely contained awe. "And you're YN. I… I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. You're such an inspiration. The way you've broken barriers in this sport, it's incredible. I've followed your career since your F3 days and-"

You cut him off, your voice cool. "Thanks. Welcome to the grid."

Franco's smile falters, but he presses on. "I just wanted to say how much I admire what you've accomplished. You've paved the way for so many young drivers, especially women in motorsport. It's an honor to be racing alongside you."

You nod stiffly. "Thanks," you repeat, your tone making it clear that you're not interested in continuing the conversation.

An awkward silence falls over the group. Oscar, sensing the tension, tries to smooth things over. "So, Franco, how are you finding the step up to F1 so far?"

As Franco turns to answer Oscar, you take the opportunity to step away, moving to the other side of the truck. You can feel Oscar's gaze following you, but you can't bring yourself to engage in small talk with Logan's replacement, no matter how well-intentioned he might be.

As you're standing alone, Alex approaches, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

You shrug. "Free country, Albon. Or free truck, I guess."

Alex chuckles softly. "How are you doing? I know this can't be easy for you."

You sigh, your guard dropping slightly with Alex. "It's… complicated. I'm angry for Logan, but I know it's not Franco's fault. It's just…"

"It's the reality of the sport we're in," Alex finishes for you. "Trust me, I get it. Been there, done that, got the Red Bull rejection t-shirt."

Your stomach twists at the mention of that, suddenly remembering the endless conversations and warnings from your team. And how despite having a contract for next season, there's threats about your seat being take away after every race weekend. But you push the thought away.

"Always the comedian, aren't you?"

"Someone's got to keep the mood light around here," Alex grins. "But seriously, I know it's tough. Franco's a good kid, though. He's been working really hard, trying to learn as much as he can."

You nod, not quite ready to let go of your resentment but appreciating Alex's perspective. "How's he settling in?"

"As well as can be expected," Alex says. "He's got a lot to learn, but he's eager. It's a big step up from F2, but he's handling the pressure well so far."

You're about to respond when the parade starts moving. Alex gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder before moving back to his spot. As the truck rolls down the straight, the cheers of the Tifosi wash over you. You lift your hand to wave, a mix of emotions swirling inside you that go beyond just Logan's replacement.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,638,578 others

yourinstagram p8. it is what it is. ciao monza 👋

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username1 you will always be the moment

username2 FIX THE FUCKING CAR ALREADY

username3 ouu shes DONEEE

username4 most undeserved seat on the grid i swear

username5 anyway RICBULL IS COMING

francolapinto Such a pleasure to race alongside you!

↳ username1 franco respects and admires her so much i love it

↳ username2 im pretty sure yn hates him tho

username6 the constructors championship is gone thanks to her

logansargeant Chin up, love you 💙

↳ username2 i miss them so much

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,739 others

f1gossip YN arriving at Red Bull HQ in Milton Keynes

Tensions running high as rumors swirl about potential driver shake-ups. Sources say YN’s recent performance has bosses considering options

Is the Honey Badger eyeing a comeback or could young Liam Lawson be making the leap to F1? 🤔

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username1 bro...

username2 they better fix her car NOW

username3 RICBULL RICBULL

username4 honestly the best thing for the team would be her getting replaced

username5 YAAAS SHE'S OUT FINALLY

username6 oscar is the only 2023 rookie who actually puts in the work

username7 some people need to start putting some respect on yn's name bc yall keep forgetting she was third in the championship and got her first win during her ROOKIE SEASON and the reason she's struggling rn is bc redbull is not getting their shit together

↳ username1 right??? they're just saying shit

↳ username4 you said it yourself, she has a championship winning car and she's not delivering. she should be out

username8 YN GET BEHIND ME

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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,638,538 others

yourinstagram great quali, we should have some fun tomorrow 😚

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username1 SLAYYY

username2 p4 after all the nonsense surrounding her seat? feels right

username3 THE QUEEN OF BAKU FOR REAL

lilyzneimer my favorite supergirl 💙

username4 she got lucky

username5 don't care, we still want danny or liam in that seat

username6 enjoy the race bc it might be your last

username7 watch her on that podium tomorrow

logansargeant Super proud always

↳ username2 LOGAN WE MISSS YOUUUU

francolapinto 🤩

liked by username1, logansargeant and 270,847 others

redbullracing Solid race and a bunch of points for the team 👊

Result 🏁PIA, LEC, YN P3, NOR, Max P5, ALO, ALB, COL, HAM, BEA

#F1 #RedBullRacing #AzerbaijanGP

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username1 SO DAMN TRUE

username2 yn back on the podium FINALLY

username3 yn saw the rumors about her seat and decided to shut them up

username4 SHES BEATING MAX FINALLY

username5 did they finally fix the car

username6 i don't want anyone commenting on her seat anymore

username7 i knew she got into that care absolutely PISSED

username8 QUEEN OF BAKU

liked by oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 1,764,933 others

yourinstagram was that entertaining? 😙 so happy to be on the podium for osco's second win, i love you so muuuch you diva

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username1 LEGEND

username2 she's so smug

username3 TELL THEM QUEEEN

landonorris The third pic is definitely your best @/oscarpiastri

↳ yourinstagram IKR

↳ username1 I LOVE THEM

logansargeant Congrats to both of you @/oscarpiastri @/yourinstagram I'm always proud of everything you achieve ❤️

↳ username2 logan should be there too i'm sad now

↳ oscarpiastri Love you mate

↳ yourinstagram this paddock will never be the same without you

maxvertsappen1 🙌🙌 So proud of you little sister

oscarpiastri Love you stinks

francolapinto Congrats! Always an honor to race alongside you

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The drivers' briefing has just concluded, and you find yourself lingering in the room, chatting with your friends.

"I swear, I almost peed my pants at that press conference!," Lando says, his eyes widening as he recalls, "When Max and YN just sat there in silence, staring down the journalists… I thought I was going to lose it!"

Pierre chuckles, giving you a knowing look. "I knew YN was the mastermind behind that. It has her written all over it."

"Well, someone had to make a point about these ridiculous penalties," you can't help but grin.

The group's laughter is interrupted as Franco approaches, a tentative smile on his face. "Hey guys, mind if I join?"

The others welcome him warmly, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. You force a tight smile, trying to keep your emotions in check.

"Franco, mate!" George exclaims, patting him on the back. "That was some impressive driving in practice. You're settling in well."

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're really holding your own out there. Williams made a good choice."

You feel your jaw clench at Alex's words, but you remain silent, watching as Franco's face lights up with pride and gratitude.

"Thanks, guys," Franco says, his voice humble. "I still have a lot to learn, but I'm giving it my all."

"Well, it's paying off," Lando chimes in, "Points in just your second race? You're pushing that Williams harder than we've seen in a while."

As the conversation continues, with each driver offering praise and encouragement to Franco, you feel your frustration and anger building.

The memory of Logan's disappointment and unfairness of it all, mixed with the ever present threat of you seat having the same fate, bubbles up inside you until you can't contain it anymore.

"And what about Logan?" you snap, your voice cutting through the friendly chatter like a knife. The group falls silent, all eyes turning to you in surprise. Franco's smile fades, replaced by a look of discomfort and guilt.

"YN…" Oscar starts, his tone cautionary.

But you're too fired up to stop now. "No, seriously. Everyone's so quick to praise him, but what about Logan? He was improving every race, working his ass off, and for what? To be tossed aside mid-season?"

The atmosphere in the room becomes tense. George and Alex exchange uncomfortable glances, while Pierre shifts uneasily.

Franco, looking distressed, speaks up. "I never meant for Logan to lose his seat. I just took the opportunity when it was offered to me. Any driver would have done the same."

"Oh, so that makes it okay?" his words only fuel your anger. "You just 'took the opportunity'? Do you have any idea how hard Logan worked for that seat? How much he sacrificed?"

"YN, that's enough," Oscar says firmly, placing a hand on your arm.

But you shrug him off, your eyes blazing as you face Franco. "You waltz in here, taking a seat you didn't earn, and everyone's falling over themselves to congratulate you. It's not right. It's not fair."

The room falls into a shocked silence. Franco looks like he's been slapped, his earlier excitement completely deflated. The other drivers are staring at you with a mix of surprise and disapproval.

It's George who finally breaks the tension. "YN, I think we all understand you're upset about Logan. We all are. But this isn't Franco's fault. He's just trying to make the most of his chance, like any of us would."

You feel a flush of shame creeping up your neck, but your anger is still simmering. "You don't understand," you mutter, but the fight has gone out of your voice.

Franco, looking genuinely distressed, takes a step towards you. "I'm sorry about what happened to Logan. I really am. I have nothing but respect for him, and for you. I never wanted to cause any problems."

His sincerity catches you off guard, and for a moment, you see not the driver who replaced your friend, but a young, talented kid trying to navigate a difficult situation. However, your anger and frustration gets the best of you.

"Whatever," you mumble, pushing past the group and out of the room, leaving a stunned silence as you disappear.

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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 709,639 others

francolapinto still buzzing from singapore 🇸🇬growing up watching Lewis battle in marina bay and now getting to race wheel to wheel with him... surreal doesn't even begin to cover it 🤯 and that fight with YN for position was proper racing - those last few laps were intense! thank you to the team for giving me a car that could fight at the front. vamos 💪

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username1 he’s an f1 driver now but he’ll always be a fanboy

lewishamilton Good racing kid, you've got a bright future ahead 👊🏾

williamsracing Our boy! 💙

username3 Did anyone else notice how aggressive YN was when overtaking Franco? Almost pushed him into the wall...

↳ username1 fr she looked like she wanted to crash him

↳ username4 they were racing for position, that's what racing drivers do 🙄

username5 the way he always mentions YN in his posts but she never acknowledges him 👀

username6 that move from YN was unnecessarily aggressive, could've ended badly

landonorris Great drive mate!

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 2,370,739 others

f1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced. Liam Lawson will race in place of Ricciardo for the remaining six races of the season for the team.

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username1 DANNY NOOOO

username2 this sucks man

danielricciardo Been a hell of a ride! Thank you RB family ❤️

maxverstappen1 Going to miss you mate!

username3 Wrong driver leaving... YN should be the one out

↳ username1 exactly! she's been underperforming all season

yourinstagram always grateful for everything you taught me DR. more than a driver - you've been a big brother, mentor, and friend since day one. going to miss our pre-race dance parties 🥺🤍

↳ username3 now give him your seat

↳ username1 it's no annoying to see that drivers like her have an undeserved contract extension and talented drivers get left out

↳ danielricciardo Love you kiddo! Make me proud

username5 Gutted to see Danny Ric go 💔

landonorris Won't be the same without you mate!

username7 @/yourinstagram Maybe focus more on racing than dancing 🙄

↳ username8 she's literally P5 in the championship, shut up

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As you step off the plane in Florida, the warm air envelops you, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn weather you left behind in Europe. Your heart lightens as you spot Logan waiting for you, his familiar grin a welcome sight after weeks of tension and stress. You missed your best friend so much.

You rush towards him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. "I missed you so much," you say, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "That paddock sucks without you."

Logan chuckles, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I missed you too, stinks." He pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Now, let's grab a beer since you're out of race cars for a while."

You nod eagerly, letting him lead the way. He drives you to a nearby bar, one you've learned over the years of knowing him was the one he used to go to during his teenage years. The casual atmosphere is a refreshing change from the high-pressure environment of the paddock. As you settle into a booth with cold beers in hand, you feel some of the tension from the past few months start to melt away.

"So, how's life outside the F1 bubble?" you ask, taking a sip of beer.

Logan grins, leaning back in his seat. "It's… different. But not all bad. Actually, I've got some news." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I've been in talks with a few IndyCar teams."

Your eyes widen with excitement. "Logan, that's fantastic! Tell me everything!"

For the next hour, Logan animatedly describes his meetings with IndyCar team principals, the tracks he's excited to race on, and the new challenges he's looking forward to. You listen intently, genuinely happy for your friend's potential new chapter.

"It's not F1," Logan admits, "but it's a hell of a racing series. And who knows? Maybe it'll lead me back to F1 someday."

"I have no doubt," you assure him, raising your bottle in a toast. "To new beginnings!"

As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in months. You chat about mutual friends, swap funny stories from your junior racing days, and discuss the latest paddock gossip.

Eventually, Logan's expression turns a bit more serious. "So, Oscar's been keeping me updated on what's been going on in F1. Sounds like things have been… tense with Franco."

You feel your mood shift at the mention of Franco's name. "Yeah, you could say that," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer.

Logan leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. "YN, I know you're upset on my behalf, but you can't keep this grudge going forever. Franco's just a kid trying to make his way in the sport, like we all were not too long ago."

"I know, I know. It's just," you sigh heavily, "Every time I see him in the garage, in your overalls, talking to your engineers… it feels wrong, Logan. Like he's stolen something that belongs to you."

"But he didn't steal anything," Logan counters. "The team made a decision. It sucks for me, yeah, but that's not on Franco. He just took an opportunity that was offered to him. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same in his position?"

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Logan has a point, and you know it.

"Look," Logan continues, "I've had some time to process all this, and I've come to terms with it. It's a cutthroat sport, YN. We all know that. Franco's not the villain here."

"But the way it happened," you protest, "mid-season, with no warning. It wasn't fair to you."

"Fair doesn't always come into it in F1. It just happens," Logan shrugs, "Besides," he adds with a hint of a smile, "I hear he's doing a decent job. The kid's got talent."

"He's alright," you grudgingly admit. "But he's not you."

Logan laughs. "No one's me, stinks. I'm one of a kind."

You can't help but crack a smile at that. "True enough."

"So," Logan says, his tone turning serious again, "can you promise me you'll try to ease up on Franco? Give him a fair shot? For me?"

You sigh deeply, considering his words. "I'll try," you finally concede. "But I'm not promising to be his best friend or anything."

"That's all I ask," Logan says, looking relieved. "Now, is this just about Franco replacing me, or is there something else going on? You seem… I don't know, more on edge than usual."

For a moment, you consider telling him about the talks with Red Bull, about the uncertainty surrounding your own seat. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something holds you back. Maybe it's not wanting to burden Logan with your problems, or maybe it's not being ready to voice your fears out loud.

"No, nothing else," you lie, forcing a smile. "Just the usual F1 stress, you know how it is."

Logan nods, though he doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, if there ever is anything, you know you can talk to me, right? Even if I'm not in the paddock anymore."

"I know," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "Thanks, Logan. Really."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,289,673 others

yourinstagram florida !!! is one hell of a drug

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username1 AHHH she visited logan

logansargeant Next time we're doing the gator tour 🐊

↳ username2 i love them sm

oscarpiastri No invite for your favourite Aussie? Rude

↳ username2 we need the iconic trio together again

username3 they've been friends since forever, love how they support each other

username4 Logan and YN's friendship >>>>>

username5 Why is she on holiday when she should be working on her driving?

username6 the way logan always has her back 🥺

username7 surely there are better uses of time with 4 races left and her seat under threat?

francolapinto Amazing 🙌

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You arrive at the Red Bull hospitality area in Austin, the excitement of being back after the break palpable in the air. As you walk in, you spot Max lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Max grins, looking up from his device. "Did you get lost in the Texas wilderness?"

You roll your eyes playfully, dropping your bag on a nearby chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Did I keep you waiting? I was busy signing autographs for all my adoring fans. You know how it is… oh wait, you don't."

"Ouch, that hurt," Max clutches his chest in mock pain, "And here I was, about to show you something interesting, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. The banter with Max always helps you relax before a race weekend, and you've missed this during the break. "Oh come on, spill it, Verstappen. You know you want to. Don't make me steal your phone."

Max chuckles and pats the seat next to him. "Alright, alright. Sit down before you hurt yourself trying to reach my phone."

As you sit down, he pulls up a video on his phone. "Check this out. It's an interview with your biggest fan."

It's an interview with Franco. Your initial instinct is to look away, a mix of guilt and stubbornness rising in your chest. But something in Max's expression makes you watch.

"Lewis Hamilton and YN are my biggest idols in F1," Franco is saying, his face earnest. "The way YN races, her dedication and skill, it's truly inspiring. She's broken so many barriers and shown that talent knows no gender. I feel honored just to be on the same grid as her."

As the interview continues, Franco heaps more praise on you, his admiration clear in every word. You feel a twinge of guilt, remembering how cold you've been towards him. The genuine respect in his voice makes you uncomfortable, forcing you to confront your own prejudices.

"Her overtake on Leclerc in Interlagos last year? That was pure brilliance," Franco continues. "I've watched that move countless times, trying to learn from it. YN's not just a great driver, she's changing the face of the sport. I hope one day I can race wheel-to-wheel with her and show her the respect she deserves on track."

Max turns off the video and looks at you expectantly. "I think you owe someone an apology," he says, his tone gentle but firm.

You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. A wave of shame washes over you as you remember your cold behavior towards Franco. "I think I do," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, we all make mistakes. What matters is how we fix them. Franco's a good kid, and he really looks up to you. Maybe it's time to give him a chance?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I actually talked to Logan last week," you confess, watching Max's eyebrows rise in surprise. "He's doing well, actually - focusing on IndyCar now. But we talked a lot about… everything."

"Yeah?" Max shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued. It's not often you open up about these things.

"He basically told me I needed to stop fighting battles that weren't mine to fight. Said he appreciates me having his back, but Franco isn't the enemy here. He's just chasing his dream, like we all did. Logan said he remembers how it felt, getting his first chance - we all do."

Max nods thoughtfully. "Logan's right, you know. We've all been there at some point - getting an opportunity because someone else lost theirs. It's just how F1 works sometimes."

"I know," you admit, standing up. "And I've been unfair to Franco. He's actually doing a really good job with Williams, fighting in the midfield with a car that's not the easiest to drive. And here I am, making him feel unwelcome when I should be supporting talent. Some role model I am, right?"

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks, though his smile suggests he already knows.

You spot Franco heading towards the Williams hospitality area. "I'm going to make it right."

Walking over to Williams, you feel your heart pounding a little faster with each step. You find Franco sitting at one of the tables, going through data on his laptop with his race engineer.

"Franco?" you call out. "Could I steal you for a moment?"

He looks up, surprise evident on his face. "YN? Hi… yeah, of course." He glances at his engineer, who nods and excuses himself.

"Mind if I sit?" you ask, gesturing to the empty chair. When he nods, you take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. A proper one."

Franco starts to shake his head, but you hold up a hand. "Please, let me finish. I've been unfair to you, and it wasn't right. I let my loyalty to Logan blind me to the fact that you're just a talented driver making the most of your opportunity. I've been cold, sometimes even hostile, and you didn't deserve any of that."

"I… thank you," Franco says quietly. "That means a lot. I want you to know, I reached out to Logan when-"

"I know," you interrupt gently. "He told me. That's partly why I'm here. You showed real class doing that, Franco. And you're doing a great job with the car. That P8 in Baku? That was proper racing."

A genuine smile breaks across his face. "Coming from you, that really means a lot. You know, I've watched your races since I was in F3. The way you fought through all the doubters, proved everyone wrong… you're really an inspiration."

You feel your throat tighten unexpectedly. "I had no idea."

"That's why your opinion means so much," Franco admits, fiddling with his water bottle. "When you seemed disappointed in me being here… it hurt, you know?"

"I'm sorry," you say again, meaning it more than ever. "How about we start fresh? Maybe you can talk me through that overtake in Baku - I noticed you used a similar line to what I did in Interlagos last year."

Franco's eyes light up. "You caught that? I actually studied your move while preparing for the race! The way you positioned the car on entry…"

You spend the next twenty minutes discussing racing lines and overtaking techniques, the earlier tension completely dissolved. Franco's enthusiasm is infectious, reminding you of your own early days in F1.

When you finally walk back to Max, you feel lighter than you have in months. He greets you with a knowing smile. "Feel better?"

"Much better," you admit. "Sometimes you need a kick in the right direction So thank you, I needed that wake-up call."

"Anytime," he smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders, "Can't have my teammate being the paddock villain, can I? That's my job."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,667,459 others

yourinstagram rookies keeping us on our toes 😤 good battles today @/francolapinto

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username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY

username3 franco is going to piss his pants

williamsracing Our rookie giving the Red Bull a run for their money 💙

username4 she shouldn’t be acknowledging that a rookie in a williams is making it hard for her… embarrasing

username5 the start of YN and Franco's friendship? 👀

username7 the tension between these two was getting old, glad they're friends now

username8 HANDLE YOUR SEAT

username8 MY DUO 😭❤️

francolapinto Next time I won’t make it easy for you!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The private jet hums quietly through the night sky towards Mexico City. Most of the other drivers are asleep, exhausted from the intense Austin weekend. You find yourself unable to sleep, your mind still racing from the events of the day. Glancing around the dimly lit cabin, you notice Franco is also awake, absently flipping through a magazine.

Catching your eye, he gives you a warm smile and moves to the empty seat across from you. "Can't sleep either?"

"Too much adrenaline still," you admit, adjusting your position to face him better. "Great drive today, by the way. That point was well-deserved."

Franco's face lights up at the compliment. "Thanks! Though it's nothing compared to your battle with Lando. I was watching it from behind and thought 'there's no way she's going to make that stick' but then you just… did. It was incredible."

You laugh softly, careful not to wake the others. "There was a moment there where I wasn't sure either. But sometimes you just have to go for it, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Franco grins. "Like that time in F3 when I tried to go around the outside at Spa and ended up practically in another timezone."

"Please tell me there's video of that," you snicker.

"Unfortunately for my dignity, yes. I think my engineer still uses it as an example of what not to do."

The conversation flows naturally, jumping from racing stories to childhood memories. You find yourself genuinely enjoying his company, something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.

"So what made you want to be a racing driver?" you ask, genuinely curious.

As Franco launches into how he found his passion for the sport, you find yourself really looking at him properly for the first time. The soft cabin lighting catches the angles of his face, and you notice details you'd overlooked before. His eyes are warm with flecks of gold, crinkling slightly at the corners when he smiles. There's a small scar above his right eyebrow, barely noticeable unless you're paying attention. His dark hair is slightly disheveled from the long race day, a few strands falling across his forehead.

You catch yourself thinking how handsome he actually is, in that classic way. His animated expressions as he talks about racing make him even more attractive, his passion for the sport evident in every gesture.

"...and that's when I knew I wanted to do this forever," he finishes, then looks slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to get carried away when talking about racing."

"No, don't apologize," you say quickly. "It's refreshing to see that kind of enthusiasm. Some of the guys get so jaded after a while."

Franco's smile turns a bit shy. "Speaking of enthusiasm, I'm really excited about racing in Mexico this weekend. It's one of my favorite cities - the atmosphere is just incredible."

"The fans are amazing there," you agree. "Though I still haven't found a really good place to eat in Mexico City. The hotel restaurant gets old pretty quickly."

Franco's eyes light up. "Oh, you have to let me help with that! I know a couple of amazing restaurants in the city. There's this incredible place that serves the best traditional dishes you've ever tasted, and another one in that does contemporary Mexican cuisine that would blow your mind."

You find yourself intrigued, both by the suggestion and the eager way he's describing it. "That sounds way better than room service."

"We could..." he hesitates for a moment, then continues with determination, "we could go together, if you'd like? After Thursday's media duties maybe? I'd love to show you my favorite spots."

There's something endearing about the way he's trying to sound casual while clearly being nervous about asking. You feel a flutter in your stomach that you definitely weren't expecting.

"You know what? That sounds great," you say, surprised by how much you mean it. "It's about time I experienced proper Mexican cuisine."

Franco's face breaks into a brilliant smile. "Perfect! I'll make a reservation for Thursday evening then. Trust me, you won't regret it."

As the conversation continues, you can't help but notice how natural it feels now, how easily you're laughing at his jokes and sharing stories. It's hard to believe this is the same person you were avoiding just a few weeks ago.

As other drivers start stirring from their sleep, Franco returns to his original seat, but not before confirming your dinner plans one more time.

Watching him walk away, you find yourself looking forward to Thursday evening more than you probably should. It's just dinner with a colleague, you tell yourself, even as you catch yourself smiling at the thought of it.

"Just dinner," you whisper to yourself, but somehow, you're not entirely convinced.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourinstagram has added to their close friends stories

replies:

georgerussell63 So that was all the giggling I heard during the flight

oscarpiastri I’m so telling Logan

maxverstappen1 Can I say “I told you so” now?

francolapinto close friends privileges already? wow

↳ yourinstagram don’t push it colapinto

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The hotel lobby is relatively quiet as you wait for Franco, having agreed to meet there before heading to the restaurant. You've opted for casual - a simple black dress that makes you feel confident but not overdressed.

"Ready to have your mind blown by the best food in Mexico City?" Franco's voice makes you turn. He's wearing dark jeans and a well-fitted navy button-down, and you try not to notice how good he looks.

"Big claims require big proof," you tease, falling into step beside him.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lando's familiar accent cuts through the lobby. He's just coming in from what looks like a gym session, and his surprised smirk makes you want to roll your eyes. "Interesting dinner plans?"

"Just showing YN the local cuisine," Franco says smoothly, though you notice his ears turning slightly pink.

"Right, right," Lando drawls, his eyes dancing with amusement. "The local cuisine. In your nice shirt. At that fancy place you've been talking about for weeks-"

"Goodbye, Lando," you cut him off, grabbing Franco's arm and steering him toward the exit, trying to ignore Lando's knowing chuckle behind you. You knew it was a matter of time before the entire grid finds out you went out with Franco.

The restaurant is everything Franco promised and more. The conversation flows easily between you, and you find yourself charmed by the way he seamlessly switches between Spanish and English while ordering, the way he leans in slightly when you're talking, the way his hand occasionally brushes yours across the table.

"No way," you laugh, taking another sip of wine. "You did not challenge your friend to a dance-off."

"I absolutely did," Franco grins. "And I won, by the way. Though there might have been some tequila involved."

"I would pay good money to see that."

"Play your cards right," he says with a playful wink, "and maybe you'll get a private demonstration."

The flirtatious comment catches you off guard, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. Franco seems pleased with this reaction, his confidence growing throughout the evening.

The evening continues, warm and comfortable. Franco insists on ordering dessert - "You haven't lived until you've tried their churros con chocolate" - and you find yourself sharing stories between bites of perfectly crispy churros.

"So," Franco says, wiping chocolate from his lip with a napkin, "you, Oscar, and Logan - that's quite the trio. How did that happen?"

You laugh, fondly remembering those early days. "We practically grew up together in karting. I was this tiny kid trying to prove myself, Oscar was already sassy even at eight years old, and Logan… well, Logan was Logan."

"Let me guess - immediate chaos?" Franco grins.

"Oh, absolutely. We used to drive our parents and coaches crazy. These three kids who wouldn't stop racing each other even after practice was over." You smile at the memory. "We've been inseparable ever since. Though now Logan's living his best life in Florida."

Franco's eyes soften. "You really miss having him in the paddock, don't you?"

"Yeah," you admit quietly. "I do. But he's happy, and that's what matters. Plus, he texts me stupid memes at least twenty times a day, so it's like he never left."

After asking for the bill — one that Franco didn't let you pay no matter how much you insisted — you decided to walk back to the hotel. You were aware that his hand was close to yours as you walked side by side, almost brushing your fingers, but you didn't dare to take that step, and neither did he.

You reach the hotel, but instead of heading straight for the elevators, Franco suggests taking the scenic route through the garden. The night is too nice to end just yet.

"I have to say," he remarks as you walk, "you look beautiful tonight. That dress is…" he makes an exaggerated chef's kiss gesture, making you laugh.

"Smooth, Colapinto. Very smooth."

"I try," he winks, and you roll your eyes but can't hide your smile.

The walk to your room comes too quickly. Outside your door, Franco turns to you with a soft smile.

"Thank you for tonight," he says. "It was… nice. Really nice."

"It was," you agree, finding yourself meaning it completely. "Thank you for showing me your favorite spot."

There's a moment where you both just look at each other, the air charged with something unspoken. Franco takes a small step closer, then seems to think better of it.

"Goodnight, YN," he says softly, squeezing your hand once before letting go.

"Goodnight, Franco," you reply, watching him head down the hallway.

As you close the door behind you, you lean against it, smiling to yourself. You can already hear Max's smug "I told you so" tomorrow, but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 14,892 users

f1gossip🚨 Franco Colapinto and YN spotted having dinner together in Mexico City. They spent over two hours at the restaurant according to witnesses.

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username2 This is getting interesting... 👀

username3 STOP I'M CRYING 😭❤️

username4 they're just friends guys, calm down

username4 the way he makes her laugh though!!!

username5 watch how they'll deny everything tomorrow

username6 MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS

username8 this has to be more than just friendship...

username10 I MANIFESTED THIS

username12 focus on racing instead of dating maybe?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Brazilian rain hammers down relentlessly on the Interlagos circuit. It's barely 6 AM, but the paddock is already buzzing with nervous energy for the early sprint qualifying. You stifle a yawn as you check your phone for what must be the hundredth time that morning. Another message from Franco pops up - a picture of himself looking comically miserable in the rain with the caption "Maybe if we all pretend we didn't see the rain, they'll cancel quali?"

The past week has been unexpected in the best way possible. After that dinner in Mexico, something shifted. What started as sharing breakfast in the hotel turned into spending every free moment together. During the long flight to São Paulo, George had dramatically sighed and switched seats with Franco, muttering something about "not being able to take the longing looks across the plane anymore."

"Someone's cheerful for 6 AM," Max comments, walking into the garage as you quickly type a response to Franco. "Let me guess - Argetinian company keeping you entertained?"

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably. "Shut up and focus on qualifying."

"Oh, I'm focused," he grins. "Unlike someone who keeps looking at their phone every two minutes."

"I'm just-"

"YN," Max interrupts, counting off on his fingers, "he waited outside our debrief yesterday just to walk you to dinner. He somehow always knows your coffee order. And don't think I didn't notice him giving you his jacket yesterday."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "We're just friends."

"Right," Max smirks. "Friends. Like how Charles and I are 'just friends' when we're trying to punt each other off track."

"Shut up, as if you weren't secretly in love with each other."

A few hours later, as you prepare for the drivers' parade, Oscar sidles up next to you with his trademark grin.

"Well, well, if it isn't the stranger," he says dramatically. "Remember me? One of your best friends? Though I suppose you wouldn't know, being attached at the hip with a certain Williams driver these days."

You roll your eyes, but there's no heat in it. "Miss me that much, Piastri?"

"Just saying, used to be we'd get coffee before parade, now it's all 'Sorry Oscar, Franco already got me coffee,'" he mimics your voice terribly.

You're about to retort when Franco appears, and Oscar's grin widens. "And that's my cue. Have fun, kids!" He winks before sauntering off.

"Ignore him," you say when you notice a small smile in Franco's face, "He's the perpetual pain in my ass."

"He's okay," Franco says, standing closer to you. You're trying to get your hair in order when you realize something's missing.

"Shit," you mutter, patting your pockets. "I forgot my hair tie."

"You always braid it before races, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh, still searching. "I'm stupidly superstitious about it. Haven't gotten into the car without a perfect braid since F3."

"Here," Franco pulls a hair tie from his wrist. At your surprised look, he shrugs. "I started carrying one after Mexico. Just in case," he shrugs, as if he was saying the most obvious thing ever, "Turn around."

"You know how to braid hair?"

"Sisters, remember? I'm practically a professional." His fingers are gentle as they work through your hair. "Besides, can't have you breaking your streak because of a missing hair tie."

You're acutely aware of the other drivers watching with varying degrees of amusement. Lewis gives you a knowing wink as he passes, while Charles not-so-subtly elbows Oscar and gestures toward you two.

"There," he says finally, securing the end with your hair tie. "Perfect braid for perfect racing."

You reach back to feel it - it is indeed perfect. When you turn to thank him, you find him much closer than expected, his eyes soft as they meet yours.

"Show off," you manage to say, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing.

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, and you hear what sounds suspiciously like Alex whispering "Just kiss already" to George.

The moment is broken by the announcement for drivers to take their places on the parade truck. As you climb aboard, you catch Oscar making exaggerated swooning gestures at you, while Max simply mouths "Just friends?" with a knowing smirk.

Franco takes his place beside you on the truck, close enough that your shoulders touch, and somehow you find you don't really care who's watching.

"Nice braid, by the way," Charles calls out teasingly from behind you. "Franco, think you could do mine next time?"

"Get your own hair stylist, Leclerc," you call back, and Franco's laugh next to you makes everything - the bad qualifying, the rain, the teasing - worth it.

The truck starts moving, and Franco's hand finds yours, hidden from view between you. You intertwine your fingers with his, and neither of you let go for the entire parade.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 21,765 others

f1_insider🚨 Christian Horner spotted leaving Williams hospitality after a 2-hour meeting in Brazil. This comes amid increasing speculation about driver changes for 2025.

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username1 They're not even trying to be subtle anymore…

username2 leave YN alone challenge

username3 Franco to Red Bull confirmed? 👀

username5 WAIT WHAT

username7 the timing of this… right before quali 😬

username8 everyone acting surprised like this hasn't been brewing for weeks username11 They're trying to destabilize her before the race

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 2,093,032 others

yourinstagram brazil never disappoints. p15 ➡️ p2. proud of this one.

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username1 IM STILL CRYING

username2 MIC DROP

maxverstappen1 Proper racing today 💪🏻 That defense in the last 10 laps 🔥Love you kiddo, couldn't ask for a better teammate

↳ username1 max said SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE

danielricciardo THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! That's my girl!

username3 EVERYONE'S PRIDE AND JOY

username4 she got lucky and still no win this season

landonorris Absolute monster in the wet

logansargeant THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND

username5 this is why she deserves that seat

username6 where are all the haters now? 🤫

username7 that battle through the midfield was masterclass

username8 Silencing critics in the best way possible

liked by username1, username2 and 14,088 others

f1gossip YN's radio messages during Franco's crash show a different side to their "rivalry." Listen to how her voice changes when she finds out it's him. Sometimes the real feelings come through in moments like these.

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username2 this doesn't sound like someone who "hates" him

username3 top I'm crying 😭

username4 "tell me he's okay" broke me

username6 forget the rivalry narrative, that's genuine concern

username7 MY DRIVERS STOOOOP

username8 this is the most emotion we've heard from her all season

username9 notice how she's been cold towards him for weeks but the second he's in danger…

username10 SOMETHING SHIFTED

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The easy banter has become your normal over the past week. Ever since Brazil, where you fought your way from P15 to P2 in treacherous conditions, something has shifted between you. The walls you'd carefully maintained started crumbling during that rain-soaked weekend.

Your phone buzzes again - this time it's Christian Horner requesting a meeting. Your stomach tightens instinctively. These meetings have become more frequent throughout the season, always with subtle undertones about your future with the team.

Franco: "Meeting with James in 10. Wish me luck not falling asleep in the sim debrief. Call you after?"

You: "Sure, good luck x"

The 'x' slips out before you can stop it - you've never added that before. Your finger hovers over the delete button, but he's already seen it.

Franco: "Did THE YN just send me a kiss? Screenshots being taken. This is historic

You're still smiling about your early interaction with Franco when you walk into Christian Horner's office, but his expression is serious enough to make your smile fade. You've been here before - these "casual meetings" that could determine your future.

"YN, thanks for making time," he gives a polite smile, "Please, take a seat."

You sit, trying to read his expression. Last week's podium trophy sits on a shelf behind him - your trophy, earned after fighting through half the grid.

"As you're aware, your contract includes certain performance clauses. While your recent results, particularly Brazil, have been impressive, we need to consider all options for the team's future."

That familiar knot in your stomach returns. "What kind of options?"

"I was at Williams recently," Christian says carefully, "discussing various possibilities, including Franco Colapinto."

The world seems to tilt slightly. Franco. At Williams. Meeting about possibilities. Just like with Logan.

"I got P2 in Brazil," you say, hating how defensive your voice sounds. "Started P15. In the rain. I battled with the entire grid while also defending for Max to secure a double podium."

"Yes, and it was an exceptional drive-"

"I'm fifth in the championship. I've scored podiums consistently despite the car being a nightmare to drive most of the times. What more do I need to do?"

Christian's expression remains neutral. "This isn't about any single result, YN. We need to evaluate all potential scenarios for the team's future."

"So you're considering replacing me," you say flatly. "With Franco."

"I trust you understand this is just business, YN," Christian says as you stand to leave. "We have to explore every option."

You pause at the door, turning back slightly. "Of course. Business." Your voice is perfectly controlled. "Just like my P2 in Brazil was business. My podiums were business. Everything I've given to this team has been business."

"YN-"

"No, I get it. Really." You manage a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I have some sim work to review."

It hits you as you drive back to your apartment - every friendly conversation, every shared coffee, every late-night text… none of it was real. Franco isn't your friend. He's just another driver who sees you as an obstacle to overcome, a seat to claim. Just like everyone else since you entered F1, smiling to your face while plotting to take what's yours.

Back in your apartment, your phone keeps lighting up with Franco's messages, each one making your chest tighter. You can't bring yourself to block him - that feels too much like acknowledging how much this hurts. Instead, you just... stop responding. Set the phone aside. Focus on your laptop, on race data, on anything else.

Your phone rings - Oscar's familiar face popping up on the screen.

"Finally!" he exclaims when you answer. "I've been trying to reach you all day. You missed the most hilarious thing - Lando tried to make vegemite pasta."

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling. "Please tell me someone filmed it."

The conversation flows easily, almost making you forget about everything else. Almost.

"Oh yeah," Oscar adds casually, "ran into Franco at paddle today. He seemed pretty worried-"

"He better focus on preparing for his Red Bull seat instead."

"His what?" Oscar sounds confused. "Stinks, what are you on about?"

"Horner had meetings at Williams. About Franco. About possibilities. Sound familiar?"

"Hang on, hang on. Did you even talk to Franco about this? Because he genuinely seemed concerned-"

"Of course he seemed concerned, Os. That's the whole point."

"YN, I know you. You're doing that thing where you push people away before they can hurt you. But stinks, I really don't think-"

"I have to go. Sim data to review."

"At least talk to him-"

You end the call, turning back to your laptop. Three races left. Three chances to prove everyone wrong. No more distractions, no more letting your guard down.

You'll do it the only way that matters in F1 - on track, where lap times speak louder than friendly texts, and championship points mean more than shared coffee breaks.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You've managed three weeks. Three weeks of perfectly crafted indifference, of calling him "the Williams driver" in interviews, of taking different routes through the paddock just to avoid those chance encounters that used to make your heart skip. Three weeks of pretending you don't miss his stupid sparkle messages, or the way he always saves you a coffee during early practice sessions.

But now your hands won't stop shaking as you stare at your dark phone screen, trying to ignore the screens showing the mangled Williams in the Las Vegas Strip. You've watched the replay seventeen times without meaning to, each time feeling your heart stop at the impact.

"This is getting ridiculous," Max's voice is quiet beside you, making you jump. You didn't even hear him approach. "Stop with this nonsense."

"I'm fine," you respond automatically, thumb still pretending to scroll on your black screen. "Just checking the timing sheets."

"Your phone isn't even on." Max's hand appears, gently taking the phone from your trembling grip. "They've taken him to UMC. Just go."

"I can't," you whisper, finally looking up at your teammate. You hate how your voice catches. "Everyone will—"

"Who cares what everyone will say?" Max interrupts, already reaching for your bag. "Hannah's got a car waiting. Go."

"I don't want to," you protest weakly, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds. "I don't need to—"

"Stop," Max's voice is firm but gentle. "You're not going back to this. Not after everything. You care about him, stop pretending you don't."

You take a shaky breath, then nod once. You're out of the garage before you can change your mind and rebuild those walls you've spent three weeks perfecting. Because Max is right – you do care. You care so much it terrifies you. And right now, nothing else matters except knowing he's okay.

You hate hospitals. You've spent too many hours in them after your own crashes, but somehow this is worse. Standing outside his room, you're suddenly unsure of everything. Three weeks of carefully constructed distance seems ridiculous now.

"You can come in instead of hovering at the door," Franco's voice carries from inside, slightly hoarse but still holding that hint of amusement that always used to drive you crazy. "Unless you're planning to run away again."

You step inside, trying to maintain some composure even as your heart clenches at the sight of him. "I wasn't running away," you say automatically, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"No?" He raises an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the movement. "So you just happened to take different paddock routes?"

"Franco—"

"It's back to Franco now? Not 'the Williams driver'?" There's hurt beneath his teasing tone, and it makes your chest tight. "That last interview was particularly cold, by the way. Very convincing."

You stay by the door, arms crossed. "I thought that's what everyone wanted. Space. Distance. Rivalry."

"You're here now though."

"Max made me come," you lie.

"Sure he did." Franco's small smile tells you he sees right through you. "Nothing to do with how many times you asked if I was okay over the radio?"

You feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he's heard the radio already. "I would have asked about any driver."

"YN," his voice softens, and it breaks something in you. "Stop pretending. Please. I miss my friend."

The last words hit you hard, and you finally let your arms drop, taking a step closer. "I miss you too," you whisper, and it feels like admitting defeat and victory all at once. "I was so scared when I saw the crash."

"Come here," he says quietly, patting the edge of the bed.

You hesitate for just a moment before crossing the room, carefully sitting beside him. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "For these past weeks. For being harsh. For—"

"I know," he interrupts, his hand finding yours. "I know. But you're here now."

You squeeze his hand gently, feeling the walls you've built crumbling completely. "You could have died today and I would have never—" you stop yourself, running your thumb over his knuckles without thinking. "All because of this stupid seat."

Franco's quiet for a moment, then lets out a small laugh that turns into a wince. "Is that what you think? That I'm after your seat?"

"Aren't you?" You try to pull your hand away but he holds on. "The meetings with Christian, the—"

"YN," he interrupts, waiting until you look at him. "I never got any offers from RedBull.”

You freeze. "What?"

"I'm not taking your seat," he says softly. "In fact, I still don't have a seat."

"But...the meetings with Horner?" You're struggling to process this. "He basically told me they were considering options for next season, and those options were you in my seat."

"Sounds to me that he was pressuring you." His eyes hold yours. "My team had meetings with RedBull, yes. But we never got a solid offer, not even for VCARB."

You feel slightly dizzy. Three weeks of avoiding him, of building up walls, of convincing yourself he was just another driver trying to take your seat...

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" you finally manage.

"Well, you've taken the long way through the paddock just to avoid me," he teases, then becomes serious. "I wouldn't hurt you like that. You know that. Or at least, you used to."

"I got scared," you admit quietly. "When I heard about the meetings, I just... it was easier to push you away than to admit that I care about you."

The silence that follows feels heavy with everything unsaid. Finally, Franco squeezes your hand gently.

"Well," he says softly, "nearly dying seems to have worked out well for me then."

"That's not funny," but you're fighting a smile.

"Made you come see me though, didn't it?"

"I hate you," but there's no heat in it.

"No, you don't," he says confidently. "You just admitted you care about me. No taking it back now."

You roll your eyes but don't deny it. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I crashed a car at 200mph," he grins, then softens. "Better now though."

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liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,908,479 others

yourinstagram champion x4 🏆so proud to be part of this journey. no one deserves it more than you @/maxverstappen1. thank you for being the best teammate anyone could ask for, on and off track.

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username1 IM CRYINGGGGG

username2 this is my family

maxverstappen1 Couldn't ask for a better teammate and bonus little sister. Thanks for having my back all season 💪🏻

↳ username1 HE SAID SHE'LL ALWAYS BE MY TEAMMATE

danielricciardo Look at my kids making me proud 🥹

christianhorner Fantastic team effort all year. Proud of both of you.

↳ username1 FIX HER CAR AND STOP FEEDING HER TO THE PRESS!!

username5 the way max waited to celebrate until she crossed the finish line

username6 remember when they said they wouldn't get along

username7 brother sister energy we love to see it

francolapinto Amazing work 🙌

↳ username8 bro ready to take her seat

username9 their relationship is too pure. max adores her like she's his little sister and yn would take a murder charge for him pretty much

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After showering and changing post-race, you're walking back to your hotel room when your phone buzzes. Franco's name lights up the screen: "Hey... could you come to my room? Need to get my mind off today. Room 412."

You hesitate only briefly before responding. After everything that's happened - the crash, the hospital, the conversations that followed - things between you have felt different.

Qatar had been grueling, you managed to score a solid P4 but the story for Franco had been different. He was part of a collision during turn one that ended his race right there. You heard it on the radio and your heart couldn't help but ache for him.

When you knock, Franco opens the door looking drained, his usual spark dimmed by the day's events. He's changed into soft sweatpants and a team shirt, hair still damp from his shower.

"That bad, huh?" you say softly, following him into the room.

He drops onto the bed with a sigh. "First lap incidents are the worst. All that preparation, all those hours in the sim… gone in seconds."

You settle into the armchair across from him. "I saw the replay. That wasn't your fault - Hulkenberg came across way too aggressively."

"Doesn't matter whose fault it was. Points are points, and I need them." He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've come to recognize as stress. "The pressure's getting intense. Everyone keeps asking about next year's plans, and I just… I don't know."

"Hey," you say gently, moving to sit beside him. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there. Everyone sees it."

"Do they?" His voice is uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Because right now it feels like every mistake is being magnified. One DNF and suddenly everyone's questioning if I deserve the seat."

"I know that feeling too well," you admit. "I mean, I spent three weeks avoiding you because I thought you were after my seat."

That draws a small laugh from him. "Not my finest moment in the hospital, guilt-tripping you about it."

"It worked though, didn't it?" you nudge his shoulder playfully, "Plus, I guilt tripped you about Logan's seat for the longest time, it's only fair."

"Yeah, well, I was desperate. Do you know how hard it was watching you take different routes through the paddock just to avoid me?"

"About as hard as it was taking those routes," you say softly. "I missed you."

"You did manage to find some creative paths though," he teases, his mood lightening slightly. "I particularly enjoyed watching you duck behind Lando in the airport."

"I did not duck!"

"You absolutely did. Practically dove behind him. Poor guy had no idea why you suddenly needed an urgent conversation about sim settings."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "Well, what about you? Mr. 'Oh sorry, I didn't see you there' when we literally made eye contact in the media pen?"

"That was Oscar's fault! He told me my hair looked weird and I got distracted."

"Your hair always looks weird."

He gasps in mock offense. "Take that back! This hair has its own fan accounts."

"Yeah, horror fan accounts maybe," you tease.

"Says the person who needed my expert braiding skills before races."

"Which you learned from your sisters, if I remember correctly?"

His expression softens. "Actually… I might have YouTube'd it after Mexico."

That catches you off guard. "You… what?"

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "Spent like three hours practicing on a rope I found in the gym. Alex caught me and wouldn't stop laughing."

"That's…" you feel something warm bloom in your chest. "That's actually really sweet."

"Don't tell anyone," he grins. "I have a reputation to maintain."

"Oh yeah? What reputation is that?"

"You know, cool, mysterious, definitely not the type to watch hair braiding tutorials."

You laugh. "Hate to break it to you, but anyone who's seen you try to work the coffee machine knows you're not mysterious."

"That machine is complicated!"

"It has three buttons!"

"Three very confusing buttons," he protests. "Besides, you're the one who always shows up right when I'm struggling with it."

"Pure coincidence."

"Right," he smirks. "Just like how you 'coincidentally' started showing up earlier to breakfast after I mentioned that's when I usually go?"

You feel your cheeks warm again. "I just… wanted to beat the rush."

"The rush of exactly two other drivers who eat that early?"

"Shut up," you mutter, but you're smiling.

The air between you changes, becomes charged with everything unsaid. You're suddenly very aware of how close you're sitting, how his eyes have dropped to your lips.

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he leans forward and kisses you, soft and careful, like he's afraid you might pull away. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you feel yourself melting into the touch.

When he pulls back, you blink at him, slightly dazed. "You kissed me."

His familiar smirk returns, though his eyes remain soft. "Well done, Sherlock."

You roll your eyes at his sass, but can't help smiling. This time, you're the one who leans in, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss is deeper, more certain. His hand slides into your hair as you press closer, and you feel him smile against your mouth.

"You know," he says softly, playing with a strand of your hair, "besides being one of my racing idols, you've also always been my crush."

You pull back slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Don't let it go to your head," he grins.

"Oh my god," you laugh. "You were such a fan! Did you have posters too?"

He groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I'm never telling you anything again."

"No, no, this is great," you tease. "I'm just a year and a half older than you, Colapinto, and you completely idolized me."

"I hate you," he mumbles into your shoulder.

"No you don't," you say confidently. "You just admitted you had a crush on me."

He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Still do, actually. Although the real you is much more annoying than poster you."

"Poster me didn't call you out on your coffee machine struggles."

"Poster you was much nicer," he agrees, but he's smiling as he leans in to kiss you again.

This kiss is slower, deeper, filled with everything you've both been holding back. When you finally pull apart, you rest your forehead against his.

"Been wanting to do that for a while," he admits softly.

"Even when I was avoiding you? Or giving you crap to defend my best friend's honor?"

"Especially then. Do you know how adorable you looked trying to pretend you didn't see me in the paddock?"

"Shut up," you laugh.

"Never," he grins, pulling you closer. "I have years of fan stories to make up for."

You kiss him again just to shut him up, but you can feel him smiling against your lips, and you think maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you're meant to be.

"You're never going to let me live down the fan thing, are you?" he asks when you break apart.

"Not a chance," you smirk. "I bet Alex has pictures of you practicing those braids too."

"Don't you dare!"

But you're already reaching for your phone, laughing as he tries to grab it from you, and somehow you end up tangled together on the bed, both laughing too hard to care about anything else.

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You're halfway through your coffee when Franco appears, wearing his team polo and that signature grin that used to irritate you but now makes your stomach flutter. It's still surreal how much has changed - from despising him for taking Logan's seat, to avoiding him over your seat rumors, to… whatever this is now. He slides into the seat next to you, leaning in for a kiss. You quickly place a hand on his chest, pushing him back playfully.

"Easy there, hotshot," you tease. "Let's keep it professional."

"Professional?" He raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, don't be shy now. Not after last week."

You feel your cheeks warm at the memory. "Last week was different. We were alone."

"Oh, so that's the rule? Only when we're alone?" He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Should we discuss what else happened when we were alone?"

"Franco!" You swat his arm, but you're fighting a smile.

"What? I'm just saying, for someone who used to avoid me like I had the plague, you sure changed your tune."

"Yeah, well," you stir your coffee, trying to maintain your composure, "turns out you're not as annoying as I thought."

"High praise," he chuckles. "Remember when you wouldn't even look at me in driver briefings?"

"Remember when you replaced my best friend and then tried to steal my seat?"

"I didn't try to steal your seat!" he protests. "That was all media speculation."

Before you can respond, Max drops into the seat across from you, already looking amused at finding you two together.

"Well, well," he says, reaching for the coffee pot. "If it isn't my favorite teammate and her… what are we calling this now?"

You roll your eyes. "We're calling it none of Max's business."

"Everything is Max's business," Max says cheerfully. "Especially when said business involves my teammate getting cozy with the competition."

Franco's phone buzzes and his expression shifts slightly as he reads the message, and you catch that flicker of worry he's been trying to hide all weekend. The weight of it being potentially his last race in F1 has been hanging over both of you.

"Engineers?" you ask softly.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Last pre-race meeting of the season. Hopefully not my last ever," he adds, attempting a joke that falls flat.

You reach for his hand under the table, giving it a quick squeeze. "Hey, you've shown what you can do this year. The pace is there, the talent is there-"

"The results aren't," he cuts in, running his free hand through his hair. "DNF and crashes don't exactly scream 'keep me for next year.'"

"The car's been shit though," Max speaks up, "Everyone knows that. You've outqualified your teammate and scored points."

"Try telling that to the team principals," Franco says, attempting a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Anyway, better go before they add 'chronically late' to my resume." He stands, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "See you later?"

"Of course," you say softly. "Good luck in the meeting."

Once Franco leaves, Max leans forward, "Okay, spill. Everything. Now."

"There's nothing to spill."

"Nothing to spill?" Max scoffs. "Last month you were convinced he was plotting to take your seat, and now he's kissing you goodbye at breakfast? That's not nothing."

"You don't need to know everything about my life, Max," you try to busy yourself with your coffee, that's pretty much cold by now.

"I'm the older brother you never wanted but got stuck with anyway, so I do need to know about these things."

You sigh, knowing he won't let this go. "Fine. After Qatar, things changed. We… spent time together."

"Spent time together?" Max wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not like that!" you protest, then lower your voice. "Well, not just like that. We talked a lot. About everything again - the rumors, the misunderstandings, why I was so angry about Logan, and… I don't know. It's different now. Good different. When I'm with him, everything just feels…" you trail off, searching for the right words.

"Right?" Max supplies, his teasing tone softening.

"Yeah," you admit. "Which makes this whole situation even harder. If he doesn't get a seat…"

"Then you'll figure it out," Max says, "But let's not write him off yet. Season's not over until the checkered flag."

You nod, but can't help glancing at the door Franco left through. "You know what's ironic?" you say, turning back to Max. "A few months ago, I was worried about him taking my seat. Now I'd give anything for him to have one, anywhere on the grid."

Max smiles knowingly. "Amazing what a few kisses can do."

"It's not just that," you protest. "He deserves to be here. He's so talented-"

"And you're completely smitten," Max interrupts, grinning.

"Shut up," You throw a napkin at him. "I'm getting a new teammate next year," you declare.

"No you're not," Max laughs. "You love me." He pauses, suddenly looking both nervous and excited. "Actually… want to know a secret?"

Something in his tone makes you lean forward. "Always."

"Kelly's pregnant," he says, a huge grin spreading across his face. "We just found out last month"

You practically leap across the table to hug him, nearly knocking over both your coffees in the process. "Oh my god! Max! I'm going to be an auntie!"

He laughs, hugging you back. "Actually…" he pulls back slightly to look at you, "What do you think about being a godmother?"

Your eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," he grins. "Who else would I trust to teach my kid how to properly terrorize the paddock?"

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm going to spoil them so much," you warn, hugging him again. "Like, an absolutely ridiculous amount."

"I know," he laughs. "That's kind of counting on it."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Just family for now," he says. "And you, obviously. Because you are family."

You're definitely crying now. "I hate you for making me cry before a race weekend."

"Sure you do," he grins. "Just like you hate Franco, right?"

You wipe your eyes, deciding to ignore his comment. "God, I can't believe you're going to be a dad!"

"Me neither," he admits, and there's something soft and vulnerable in his expression that makes your heart squeeze. "It's scary but… in a good way, you know?"

"You're going to be amazing," you tell him seriously. "The best dad ever."

His smile turns mischievous. "Just wait until Franco gets you pregnant-"

"And that's my cue to leave," you gather your things. "Congratulations again, future dad. I love you, even when you're the worst."

His laughter follows you out of the room. "Love you too, future godmother!"

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liked by maxverstappen1, francolapinto and 2,099,437 others

yourinstagram ABU DHABI WINNER! 🏆✨ still feels surreal to type those words. to win the last race of the season, after everything… no words can describe this feeling. thank you to every single person who never stopped believing in me, even when things got tough. to my incredible team - this one's for you. we did it! 🧡

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username1 SHE FUCKING DID IT

username2 first win of the season in the last race - poetic justice

username3 the way everyone doubted her at the start of the season and now look at her QUEEN BEHAVIOR

logansargeant YESSSS! That move was legendary! So proud of you!

username4 this feels so RIGHT

francolapinto Mi campeona 🖤 That last lap move was 🔥

↳ username1 IM CRYING OMFG

↳ username2 THEY'RE SO TOGETHER I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

username5 brb i'll be crying while i watch that video of her hugging franco

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You're still riding the high of your Abu Dhabi win as you unlock your apartment door. Your first win of the season, in the last race - it feels poetic, somehow. Like a final "fuck you" to everyone who doubted you, who questioned your seat, who spent the entire season speculating about your future.

The trophy sits in your bag, along with the champagne bottle Charles insisted you keep. Franco follows you in, still wearing that soft smile he's had since he watched you cross the finish line.

He's staying at your apartment since he doesn't have a place in Monaco and the now traditional drivers dinner is happening, after all you time together, inviting him over felt...natural.

The past few days have been a whirlwind - the podium, the celebrations, the multiple kisses stolen in your motorhome between media duties. The flight to Monaco where you both pretended to sleep but kept "accidentally" touching hands. It should feel fast, rushed, but somehow it just feels right.

"Still can't believe you pulled that move on the last lap," Franco says, dropping his bags by the door. "Even Max was impressed, I think you broke his brain a little."

"Speaking of broken, try not to destroy anything while you're here," you tease. "Some of us actually live in Monaco full-time."

Franco turns to you with mock offense. "When have I ever broken anything?"

"Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?" you raise an eyebrow. "Because I distinctly remember a certain incident with Lewis' scooter…"

"That was a manufacturing defect and you know it," he protests, moving closer.

"Sure it was," you laugh. "Just like the tablet in Singapore was a 'technical malfunction'?"

He's close enough now that you can smell his cologne, the same one that's been driving you crazy since Qatar. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never," you confirm, but your voice comes out softer than intended because he's looking at you the way he has been since that first kiss in his room - like you're something precious.

"Guest room's down the hall," you say quickly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Bathroom's across from it, you know the drill."

Franco raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes that you're starting to know too well. "You're really going to make me take the guest room? After all our bonding?"

"Bonding?" you scoff. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Well, what would you call making out in your motorhome? And the plane bathroom? And-"

You cut him off by pressing your hand to his mouth. "Those were… moments of weakness."

He kisses your palm before moving your hand, and the simple gesture shouldn't make your heart race like it does. "Lots of moments."

"I was emotionally vulnerable," you argue weakly.

"Uh-huh," he steps closer, backing you against the wall. "And now?Are you emotionally vulnerable now?" His hands find your waist, and you try to ignore how right they feel there.

"I'm…" you start, but then he's kissing you, slow and deep, and you forget what you were going to say.

When he pulls back, you're both breathing heavily. "We should get ready for dinner," you manage.

"We should," he agrees, but kisses you again.

"Franco," you mumble against his lips. "We're already late."

"Five more minutes," he murmurs, trailing kisses down your neck.

It ends up being fifteen minutes before you finally push him away, your lips swollen and hair slightly messed up.

"Guest room," you point firmly. "Get changed."

He grins, stealing one last quick kiss before grabbing his bag. "Yes, boss."

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yourinstagram has added to their close friends story

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You arrive at Lewis' Monaco penthouse a fashionably acceptable ten minutes late, Franco's hand resting casually on your lower back as the elevator opens to the top floor. The space is already filled with the familiar chatter of your fellow drivers, the city lights twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Look who finally made it," Charles calls out, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Got lost on the way from your apartment? It's only three blocks…"

"Traffic," you say smoothly, ignoring Franco's poorly concealed laugh beside you.

"Must have been terrible," Alex joins in, eyes twinkling. "Considering you live literally around the corner."

Lewis appears, saving you from having to respond. He hugs you warmly before turning to Franco with a grin. "No scooters allowed inside this time, mate."

"That was one time!" Franco protests as everyone laughs. "And it was definitely faulty manufacturing."

The evening flows easily, conversation and wine flowing freely as everyone celebrates the end of another season. You find yourself constantly aware of Franco's presence - the way he automatically hands you your favorite wine, how his hand finds yours under the table, the soft looks he gives you when he thinks no one's watching.

(They're all watching. These are racing drivers - subtlety isn't their strong suit.)

"Get together, everyone!" you call out later, holding up your phone. "I want a picture."

There's the usual chaos of twenty-odd drivers trying to arrange themselves, plenty of shoving and laughing as everyone finds their spot. Franco ends up behind you, his chest pressed against your back, hands resting lightly on your waist.

"Alright, someone else take it," Lando announces. "YN's too busy making heart eyes at Franco to frame it properly."

"I am not-"

"You kind of are," Pierre interrupts with a grin.

"Just like in Abu Dhabi," Oscar adds. "And the flight home. And baggage claim. And-"

"I hate all of you."

The night continues with more conversation, more drinks, and constant teasing from your friends. Even Charles joins in, muttering something about "finally dealing with all that sexual tension in the briefings."

By the time you leave, you're both pleasantly tipsy, walking back to your apartment with slightly unsteady steps. The moment your door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts.

"So," he says finally, stepping closer. "About that guest room…"

"What about it?" you ask, but you're already moving toward him.

"I'm thinking," he cups your face with one hand, "that it would be a shame to use it."

"Would it?"

"Mhmm," he's close enough now that you can feel his breath on your lips. "Especially when the winner deserves proper celebrations."

"Or maybe you're just being a horndog," you tease, even as your hands find their way to his chest.

"Maybe," he concedes. "Or maybe I just can't stop thinking about kissing you."

Your breath catches. "You've already kissed me plenty today."

"Not enough," he murmurs, then proves his point by capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is different from all the others. Those were stolen moments, quick and heated. This is slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize every second.

"Don't make me take the guest room," he murmurs against your lips.

You pretend to think about it, even as your hands slip under his shirt. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

"I can be very nice," he grins, then kisses you again, backing you toward your bedroom.

"Prove it," you challenge.

The guest room remains empty that night. And many nights after.

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liked by pierregasly, francolapinto and 2,044,387 others

yourinstagram i love my little dysfunctional family !! yes i'm the one behind the camera

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username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY

username3 FRANCO'S FACE ??? DEVASTATED BC HIS GIRL IS NOT NEXT TO HIM

lewishamilton Always family ❤️

oscarpiastri Never sitting between you and your lover boy again..

↳ username1 HUH??

↳ username2 oscar spill the deets PLEASE

↳ logansargeant to the gc NOW

↳ username3 LET ME INNNNN

↳ username4 im crying

↳ yourinstagram i hate you both

francolapinto ❤️

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yn's biggest fans groupchat

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You're curled up on your couch, watching the lights of Monaco twinkle through your window as snow falls softly outside. Franco's just finished unpacking his bags, having arrived from Argentina an hour ago. The past weeks without him felt strangely empty, even though you'd been surrounded by family for Christmas.

"Mama keeps asking about the foods I mentioned you cook," Franco says, settling beside you with a grin. "She's convinced I'm making it up."

"Did you tell her it's mostly pasta and those empanadas you taught me to make?"

"Si, but she says my standards have dropped since moving to Europe," he laughs, stealing some of your blanket. "How was your family?"

"Good. Dad's still buzzing about Abu Dhabi. He's watched the replay about fifty times, especially that last lap battle with Max," you grin, throwing your legs over his lap. "How was home?"

"Hot," he sighs contentedly. "Really hot. Nothing like a proper Argentinian summer."

"Meanwhile I was freezing in London," you poke his side. "Speaking of which… don't you have some news to share?"

He raises an eyebrow. "How did you-"

"Carlos texted me. He's terrible at keeping secrets."

Franco runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you've come to recognize. "I signed with Williams. As their reserve driver for next season, there's talk about 2026, but nothing concrete yet."

"Franco!" you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. "That's amazing!"

He hugs you back, letting out a relieved laugh. "You think so?"

"Of course I do!" you pull back to look at him. "Williams is doing great things, and with Carlos and Alex there…" you trail off, seeing something in his expression. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing bad," he assures quickly. "Just… I'll be based in England a lot. For simulator work and development."

"Oh," you say quietly, understanding dawning. You'd gotten used to having him here, in your space, in the paddock, in your life.

"Hey," he tilts your chin up. "It's not that far. And I'll still be at all the races. Plus," his lips quirk up, "I hear Nice has a pretty good airport."

You can't help but smile. "True. And I suppose I could be convinced to visit Grove occasionally."

"Only occasionally?" he teases.

"Well, I am very busy and important," you say loftily, making him laugh.

His eyes drop to your lips. "I'm sure you can save some time for me," he murmurs before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is soft and familiar, like coming home after a long trip. When you pull back, he's wearing that small smile that always makes your stomach flip.

You settle back against him, comfortable silence falling between you. "Talk to me about next season," he says eventually. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Honestly? I'm nervous," you admit. "Abu Dhabi was amazing, but what if it was just luck? What if I can't do it again?"

"The same way Suzuka was luck? And Singapore? And that insane qualifying in Baku?" Franco shifts to look at you properly, "You've been fast all season. Abu Dhabi just proved what everyone already knew."

"Smooth," you laugh, then remember something. "Oh! Speaking of next year - what are you doing for New Year's Eve?"

"Nothing yet. Why?"

"Logan's throwing a party in Florida for his birthday. Want to come?"

Franco hesitates. "Won't that be…"

"What? Weird because you stole his seat?" you tease, making him groan.

"I thought we cleared that up months ago," he protests.

"We did, I just like messing with you," you grin. "Come on, it'll be fun. There'll be cake."

“You know my weakness,” he sighs dramatically. “Does this mean I get to kiss you at midnight?”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll be my midnight kiss,” you tease, even as you lean into him.

“No? Planning on kissing someone else?” he raises an eyebrow, hands settling on your waist.

“Maybe. Logan might have a hot friend…”

"Terrible," he murmurs against your lips. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you whisper back, just before he kisses you again.

When you finally break apart, he's already reaching for the remote. "Want to watch Qatar?"

You groan, but you're smiling. "I hate you."

"No you don't," he says confidently, pulling up the race highlights.

And as he starts his terrible commentary, making you laugh despite yourself, you think about how easy this is - whatever this is between you. No labels, no pressure, just… this.

Outside, Monaco continues to sparkle under the falling snow, but in here, with Franco's warmth beside you and his voice in your ear pointing out "that brilliant move you did in turn 4" for the hundredth time, you think maybe some things don't need defining to be perfect.

Plus, you already know who your midnight kiss is going to be. Not that you'll tell him that - his ego's big enough as it is.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,870 others

f1gossip Spotted: F1's power couple enjoying a day out in Monaco! Franco Colapinto and YN were seen strolling around today, looking very cozy! The pair, who have been subject to dating rumors seemed to have no interest in hiding their relationship anymore.

view all comments

username1 THE FUUUUUCK

username2 i don't like this..

username3 FRANCO GET AWAYYYY she's going to distract him

username4 why is this lowkey powerful

username5 THIS PLOT TWIST OMFG

username6 i thought they hated each other ??

username7 oh how the tables have turned

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Music pulses from Logan's Miami beach house as you and Franco make your way up the palm-lined driveway. The December air is surprisingly warm, fairy lights twinkling in every tree and reflecting off the pool visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your hand is loosely intertwined with Franco's, something that still gives you butterflies even after weeks of... whatever this is between you.

"Birthday boy!" you call out as Logan spots you from the entrance, where he's greeting guests in a ridiculous party hat and an even more ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.

"If it isn't my best friend and the guy who stole my seat," Logan grins, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Franco with an exaggerated suspicious look that quickly breaks into a genuine smile. "Good to see you, man."

"Happy birthday," Franco offers with a grin, accepting Logan's enthusiastic handshake-turned-hug. "Nice shirt."

"Right? YN said it was terrible, but what does she know about fashion?"

"Hey!" you protest, but you're laughing. "I have great taste."

Logan's eyes drift meaningfully to your joined hands. "Clearly," he smirks, making you blush and Franco chuckle. "Drinks are everywhere, food's by the pool, try not to fall in."

"That was one time," you mutter as Logan gets pulled away by more arriving guests.

Franco raises an eyebrow. "One time?"

"Don't ask. Come on, I need a drink before I tell you that story."

After getting drinks, you find yourself drifting between groups, Franco's hand a constant presence at the small of your back or linked with yours. It's nice, you think, not having to overthink every interaction, every touch. Here, away from the paddock and the cameras, you can just... be.

It's about an hour into the party when Logan finds you again, now sporting two party hats and what looks suspiciously like glitter on his cheek.

"Stinks! Just the person I wanted to see," he announces, dragging you away from where Franco is deep in conversation with Alex. "Back in five," he tells Franco with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes.

"Subtle," you comment as Logan leads you to the makeshift bar.

"Please, subtle went out the window when you two showed up holding hands like teenagers at prom," he snorts, mixing drinks with practiced ease. "Speaking of which..."

"Don't start," you warn, but you're fighting a smile.

"Me? Start something? Never," he puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I just find it interesting that the same person who spent three hours ranting to me about 'that arrogant Argentine who stole your seat' is now making heart eyes at him across my party."

"You're impossible."

"And you're happy," he says softly, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. "Like, really happy. I haven't seen you like this in… well, ever."

You look down at your drink, feeling your cheeks warm. "Yeah, well…"

"Hey," Logan nudges your shoulder. "It's a good thing. You deserve this, YN. Someone who gets you, who understands the pressure and the crazy schedule and still looks at you like you hung the moon."

"He doesn't-"

"He absolutely does. Trust me, I've been watching him watch you all night. It's disgustingly cute."

"I'm kind of scared, Logan," you look down at your hands nervously, "Six months ago, I hated him. And now I can't picture myself apart from him. It's all happening really fast and I'm not quite sure when everything shifted, but I feel like there's no going back now. And that's terrifies me."

"Stinks," Logan says gently, "you didn't hate him. You were hurt because of how everything went down with the seat, and you projected that onto him. I get being scared. This sport… it complicates things. But I've seen how he looks at you and how you look at him. It's okay to have feelings for him."

"How do you always know what to say?" you look up at him.

"Because I'm your best friend," he squeezes your shoulder. "Now go get your man. And please kiss him at midnight so I can win the bet with Alex."

"You bet on us?!"

"The whole grid did. I have fifty bucks riding on tonight!"

Later, as midnight approaches, you find yourself on the beach with Franco, fairy lights and stars twinkling above. Your conversation with Logan keeps playing in your mind, making you fidgety.

"You okay?" Franco asks softly, touching your arm.

"FIVE MINUTES!" someone shouts from the house.

"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "Like, real feelings. And I know it's fast and complicated and I was horrible to you at first because I was hurt about the seat thing but then you were so nice and understanding and you brought me coffee after bad practice sessions and you defended me to the press and you make me laugh even when I'm trying to be mad and your accent gets thicker when you're tired which is unfairly adorable and-"

"THREE MINUTES!"

"-and sometimes I catch you looking at me in debriefs and it makes me forget what I'm saying and Oscar keeps making these knowing faces at us and I pretend to be annoyed but actually I kind of like it and-"

"SIXTY SECONDS!"

"-and I know this could complicate everything but I can't stop thinking about you and the way you smile when you see me in the morning and how you remember how I like my coffee and-"

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"

"-and maybe this is crazy but I really really like you and I know we should probably talk about what this means for next season but-"

"FOUR! THREE!"

"-and I just needed you to know-"

"TWO! ONE!"

Franco cuts off your rambling with a kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other pulls you closer. You melt into him as fireworks explode overhead, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the celebration around you.

When he pulls back, he's wearing that soft smile that always makes your stomach flip. "You're so cute when you rant."

"I don't rant," you protest weakly.

"Mi amor, you just spent ten minutes listing all the things you like about me, including my accent."

"Shut up."

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I want to be with you, YN. Officially, properly, no more undefined territory. I want everyone to know that you're mine and I'm yours. I want morning coffees and post-race celebrations and quiet moments like this. I want all of it, with you."

"Yeah?" you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yeah," he confirms, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "I'm crazy about you, in case my terrible attempts at flirting haven't made that obvious."

"Your flirting isn't terrible."

He kisses you again, laughing against your lips. "So… is that a yes?"

You pretend to think about it. "I don't know, Logan's friend is looking pretty good tonight…"

"Terrible," he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I like everything about you."

Your heart skips. "Everything?"

"Everything," he confirms. "Even your terrible taste in coffee."

You laugh, bright and happy, before pulling him down for another kiss. Around you, the party continues, music and waves and distant fireworks creating a perfect backdrop to this moment. When you finally break apart, you're both breathless and smiling.

"Happy New Year," you murmur.

"The happiest," he agrees, and as he leans in again, you think that maybe some feelings are worth being scared of, especially when they lead to moments like this.

Plus, you just won Logan a bet. Not that you'll tell him that.

[impulsivelycontentious]

This is bullshit and harmful rhetoric. No one is "depending on him". There are no third parties who can win. That's a fact.

This is exactly the same shit that happened before trump was elected last time and IT GOT WORSE. It is much worse.

Expecting a president to save you is sheer ridiculousness. Do you think ANY civil rights movement was won by insisting on voting third party to come rescue the oppressed?

NO. You are voting for your best chance to protest against successfully, and that *is* biden. Everything you hate about him *is worse*.

Hw actually HAS done some good shit; much more than seen under Trump and DO YOU WANT TRUMP PICKING SUPREME COURT JUSTICES AGAIN?

Because that's your alternative. Not a third party win.

This way of voting is fundamentally flawed. It means that if people have similar views or a similar choice they split the voting and the less popular but still kinda popular choice wins.

And because this country is so badly gerrymandered and the laws that prohibit felons and the incarcerated from voting while handing out felony charges like candy and imprisoning more people than any other prison system in the world, it's not gonna go the way of a third party without SIGNIFICANT WORK.

Which you have to do when it ISN'T an election year. And you have to spend a long time doing it because the system is screwy. We're actually making progress on that front but you know what would fuck it up? The literal actual dictatorship planned and publicly available for viewing (project 2025, the expansion of presidential powers under a republican government). That would fuck it up.

Workinf under biden is hard.

Working under Trump will be considerably harder and more dangerous. And he WILL win if we're split up.

Do not fall for the psyops purity bullshit again. You should have learned from the bots and russian shit LAST TIME. And yeah, that did happen. You forgot didn't you?

So many of you got radicalized by a government employee being paid to fuck over the US political system. And you learned nothing.

I'm not interested in hearing "oh well it didn't work instantly now therefore it's all bad". That's coming from someone who hasn't been paying attention for years, it seems, to rhe progresses we are making and what we're still recovering from because y'all let a megalomaniac pick court justices.

They're not GOOD; they're also not the goal. The government isn't your FRIEND. You're picking the players on your opponent's team.

"but you're just consenting to a corrupt system," / "i am not voting for the evil" / "of we don't vote that'll show them" see all of history and show me where picking government wasn't like this when it was even an option.

The voting elsewhere didn't exactly work last time did it? See roe v wade.

"we want better" - great, keep working in that until it's viable. It's not gonna magic anything up but a RIDICULOUSLY INCREASED hostility for minorities at the moment.

There isn't one thing you hate that won't get worse.

Stop treating politicians like they solve ypur problems and they could be your buddy if only we were all idealistic enough. It isn't going to happen. Not in the next few months. Not before this November.

If you're LGBT and you think you need to vote Biden instead of voting for a third party. I understand. I get it, I really do. The problem here is that you're falling for the foot in the face technique.

You're relying on a man who is committing genocide to come to your aid out of the goodness of his heart. He'll be on his lame duck term after the election, which means he has nothing to gain from helping you.

We're talking about a man who authored the extremely racist Crime Bill, which saw thousands of black men sentenced to life in prison for simple drug possession. We're talking about a known segregationist who opposed bussing 20 years after Brown. A man who eulogised Strom Thurmond. A man who pushed for the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Why exactly would you expect anything of him?

[i-like-loserz]

favorite spots ⋆.˚

synopsis: i just want to talk about the most sensitive parts of their bodies...

featuring: hongjoong, san, and mingi

word count: 1.7k

warnings: SMUT (18+), soft!boys, oral fixation, biting/sucking lips, pda, french kissing, finger sucking, blue-balling (lol), groping, nipple play (m), hickies, for san -- reader has hair that fingers can grip into, mild choking, dry humping, premature orgasms, they're sensitive and aren't afraid to show it

masterlist

✧ HONGJOONG - MOUTH/LIPS ✧

Hongjoong isn't a big pda guy.

The most he does is rest his hand on your waist, hold your hand, or gently fix your hair. Words of affection or acts of service are big in your relationship, but kissing is absolutely a no-go.

Not in public, at least.

In the beginning of your relationship cute pecks on the lips were allowed, though Hongjoong would start acting more antsy and possessive after (you didn't notice as much as his friends would). Short kisses lasting less than a second he could handle -- or that's what he'd convince himself.

Beneath the surface, however, he was holding himself back. He was exerting a concerning amount of self-control over himself every time he tasted your sweet lips, willing himself to hold back from instantly melting against you.

His hands would squeeze into a fist as he'd watch you with dark eyes, going back to whatever you were doing, acting so unaffected -- as if you didn't leave him wanting for the rest of the day.

At the time, you could tell that he enjoyed the affection and attention (a bit too much), and you were more than happy to dish it out. But then one day, he started to shy away from your kisses, turning strategically so you'd kiss his cheek instead of his lips.

At first you thought it was because he wanted to keep your relationship private. He's never been the type of guy to flaunt you like an accessory, so it made sense why he acts so low-key about your love life when in public.

But then you started noticing how he'd act after you'd give him more than a peck.

---

A make-out between the two of you usually leads to sex.

Okay, scratch that, it always leads to sex.

It's like he can't help himself.

As soon as your tongue traces the seam of his lips, he's roughly pulling you against him. He overly indulges in tasting you, laving his tongue against yours as he moans wantonly into your mouth.

You thought he was just enthusiastic about sex, but it was something else that had him shivering against you.

So you began subtly experimenting with your boyfriend:

Tracing his lips with the soft pad of your finger as you feed him a juicy chocolate-covered strawberry (he'd look up at you with those adoring brown eyes as he obediently slurps up the sweet juices from your skin)

Playfully nibbling on his bottom lip to draw out a delicious growl from him (he couldn't hold himself back from grinding his hips against yours like a dog in heat, overwhelmed by the pleasurable pain)

Forcing him to suck on your fingers as you ride him roughly (you could feel the vibration of his broken groans as you pressed down on his silky tongue)

It became increasingly clear that Hongjoong's lips were a bit more sensitive than the average person. The real test was a kiss in public.

It was right after one of his concerts. You were so proud of your boyfriend that when he finally got off stage, you jumped in his arms and pressed your lips to his, eager to give him a deep kiss.

His hands, wrapped around your waist, tighten their hold on you as soon as your lips met his, pressing your body to be flush with his.

Barely a few seconds into the kiss, you feel it, pressing so eagerly against your stomach.

He's hard already, throbbing for attention under his tight pants as his slick tongue meets yours in desperation. His adrenaline from performing may be influencing his sudden boldness, but it's the kiss that was making him so hot and bothered.

"Mmph~" You try to break the kiss, worried that you were receiving stares from others, but he won't let you.

"Not yet, baby" He whispers hotly against your mouth.

"Hongjoong--!" You hit him playfully on the chest as you force him to separate from you. "Later." You grit out, handing him your jacket to use as a barrier between his obvious boner and everyone else.

Your face is heated with a blush as you turn to look around at the sly smirks that the others were sending you. It seems to sober him up a bit as he awkwardly coughs and starts a speech commending everyone for a great show.

So now you know -- Hongjoong's lips are for home.

✧ SAN - CHEST ✧

You were the one who sprouted a sudden obsession with his chest.

He's been working out a lot lately and he loves showing off, even if he doesn't admit it. He comes home in his tank tops or compression shirts with a shy smile, subtly flexing until you say something.

"Ooh, look at my boyfriend!" You tease, smiling as he saunters through the door. "He's so big and masculine~"

San laughs gently, shaking his head at your words (+ slightly fluffing his hair). He loves the way you dote on him, period -- small hands feeling over his biceps and showering him with compliments until he's pink in the face, begging with cute boba eyes for kisses and cuddles.

When you cuddle with him, naked -- or nearly there, your hands are like magnets to his chest. It's just so built and his skin is so hot and smooth, you can't help it!

San didn't get it at first, simply amused by the way you knead his skin like a cat. Sometimes you get particularly feral and start biting his biceps and shoulder -- another odd, yet endearing habit you've gathered recently.

He has started working out with longer-sleeved shirts because he's dotted with bite marks and bruises all over his upper body (with a few on his thighs and one on his cute butt).

You can't get enough of his body and he loves it.

But biting his chest -- that he wasn't expecting.

And he didn't expect that he'd like it so much either.

--

You were timid at first, placing soft kisses against his ribs and torso before gradually moving upwards.

He shivered as you brushed your lips against his right pec, his skin already buzzing from the lustful look you had in your eyes as you assessed his body.

You pressed gentle kisses over his skin, drinking in the soft sighs that fell from his pretty lips.

He gasped quietly when you gently licked over his nipple, flicking your soft tongue over and around his sensitive bud. Your eyes glanced up at him to see his reactions.

His pink lips were plump and shiny, bitten so deliciously from his attempts to ground himself, not used to this new sensation you were giving him. His flushed chest was rising rapidly under you, unwittingly pressing himself closer to your mouth.

He let out a whisper of a groan as you sucked his nipple in hot mouth, laving your slick tongue over him. A shock of pleasure traveled straight to his cock, making him achingly hard for release.

You squeaked as fingers were suddenly weaved into your hair, tugging slightly at the roots -- not pressing you closer or pulling you away.

You moved your mouth to the other pec, giving his other nipple attention. His hold on your hair became harsher the more you'd suck on him. And you loved it.

You moaned with him as you pulled him into your mouth, teeth just barely pressed against his skin.

"N-nghh~" He shivered, "Baby -- fuck -- p-please."

"What is it?" You swiped a finger over his hard nipple, finding the pleading look on his face to be unbearably adorable.

"I'm gonna bust if you keep going." He groaned softly as you pinched him teasingly, "Lemme get inside you."

"I don't know... I think I'd like to see you finish from this..."

✧ MINGI - NECK ✧

Mingi is a very sensitive boy, overall.

When your fingers intertwine with his, he can't help but squeeze your smaller hand in his, staring down your hands like he can barely believe that you're allowing him to touch you -- even as innocently as this.

When you press sweet kisses to his lips, teasingly and soft, he's instantly smiling against you from happy he is, pressing harder to deepen the kiss and eliminate the space between you.

When you drag your hand over his thighs, settling to your knees in front of him, he holds himself back from throwing you on the bed and fucking you into the mattress.

He's constantly overwhelmed with his affection for you.

Everything is intense for him.

But when your small fingers wrap around his neck, squeezing so gently as you pull him in for another kiss -- he almost makes a mess in his pants.

You sit above him, weight settling nicely over his lap, pinning him to the couch as you lick over his puffy lips.

Mingi whines against your lips as your grasp tightens around him, loving how his head grows hazy from the way you control his breathing.

His cock throbs under you as you start to pressing wet kisses on his chin, jaw...and his neck. Your slick tongue flicks over his heated skin, laving over fading marks that you've left over the past few days.

"Like it?" You whisper, staring up at his flushed face. He shudders as you drag the edge of your teeth against the crook of his neck, eagerly leaning into the feeling.

"You know it do..." He groans deeply as you suck his sensitive skin into your mouth. His large hands hold you by the waist, pressing your body down against his as he grind against your ass, making you feel how desperately hard he is for you.

You suck harder and his hips jolt against yours, stuttering deliciously as he mewls from the intensity.

"F-fuck -- wait --"

You don't. You go to that spot right under his ear, the one that makes him lose it, and suck another love bruise into his skin.

And it ruins him.

His back arches slightly as he throws his head back with a broken moan. You release his skin, licking your lips as you watch him shake under you, panting out heated breathes, coming down from his high.

"So sweet." You coo, comfortingly rubbing a hand on his chest as he starts to calm down.

"It's embarrassing..." Mingi whines. This isn't the first time this has happened.

You place a gentle kiss on the spot, pulling away when he starts to shudder again.

"I like it."

[erwinsvow]

omgg what about kook trio where rafe and reader are sleeping and rafe is laying on her chests and top and kalce walk in and keep making fun of him all dayy. i need<3333

truthfully, rafe hadn't been feeling well all day. he was hungover from last night, because you seemingly become a drain for alcohol, drinking endless amounts and only getting drunker and drunker. when you smile up at him and offer him another shot, he finds it hard to refuse.

"c'mon, rafe, stop being such a pussy and just take it with me. ugh," you yell over the music, shoving the drink into his hand. it's harder still to refuse after that.

so he wakes up hungover. you're up beside him, having slept in his bed at tannyhill like you always do after they have a party. the light's pouring into his bedroom, and you look like an angel, dressed in one of his old frat shirts.

"rise and shine," you chirp, stretching your arms and showing him a glimpse of pink panties that are making his head pound even more. "rafe? get up."

"shut up," he mumbles, turning around to look away from you before his dick gets hard. "get the curtains. m'head hurts."

"aww," you purr, getting closer to rafe, resting your head back on the pillow. you stroke rafe's hair for a second, hand hovering with hesitation before going back to do it again. it feels too intimate between friends, even friends like you and rafe.

he groans against his pillow, and you let your hand fall back.

"come on rafe.. we'll go get greasy bacon and pancakes. it'll fix you right up. good as gold, right?" you say, mimicking the phrase he always uses.

with some convincing, you get rafe up and at the dinner. you text top and kelce to come too, but you don't know where they went off to—you really never keep track, always busy with rafe the morning after.

when you make it back to tannyhill after breakfast—or rather lunch—rafe is still complaining about his headache.

"you need water and-"

"what i need is for you to stop yappin'. woke me up for this shit. those eggs sucked."

"i thought they were fine. you're just cranky, rafe you need a nap and an advil-"

"m'not napping, not a child. jus' let me go lay down."

"whatever you say," you chirp back. "you big baby."

"shut your mouth before i shut it for you." he goes and lays down on the couch, while you get a cup of water for him and sit by rafe's head. you run your fingers through his hair, not as worried this time.

"mm. keep doin' that." he mumbles back, eyes shutting. you hold back a laugh, curling up to get more comfortable, bringing rafe's head into your lap.

you don't know when you fell asleep—just remember stretching your legs and getting pulled into rafe's warm grip. you're not even hungover, but it was hard to pull away when rafe had an arm across your stomach and the other inside your shirt—his shirt—with a hand on your back. rafe's head is now on your chest, nestled comfortably on your boobs. he's snoring, which means he's really tired.

you wake up to the sound of snickering. your eyes open for a second to take in kelce and top laughing, phone out and taking a picture of you and rafe.

"guys," you whisper, not wanting to wake up rafe. "don't laugh. he was hungover."

"so if i get hungover, i can feel you up too?"

"shut up," rafe mumbles against your chest. "fuck off. let us sleep." they shuffle away, still laughing.

"you know they're never gonna let this go, right?"

"don't care. you shut up too. m'sleeping. this is nice." you smile.

"yeah. it is."

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: Okay, guys. I actually love here!

Ace: *has been finally able to connect to them* The fuck you're talking about? Grim needs you!

MC: Nah. Fr bro. I've got myself a baby goat. *moves the phone at Rollo*

Rollo: ...

Rollo: I'm not the goat they're referring to, but this. *showing the baby goat to the camera*

The baby goat: MEEEEHHH!

MC: *moves the phone back to them* Guys here are so mentally healthy.

MC: Except Rollo.

Rollo: *in the background* Excuse me?

Ace: Ohh... Okay, okay. I think I get it.

Ace: So you need to fix him?

MC: Yeah... I think? I mean, the Bell of Solace can't talk so I don't really know what she wants from me.

MC: Either therapy or marriage, right?

Rollo: What?

Ace: Bruh? What's with your obsession of emo boys?

MC: BWAHAHAHA!

Rollo: You should end that call now.

MC: We still have a few minutes before the class starts?

Rollo: The student council starts working before the classes even start. You should know that by now.

MC: I'm not part of the student council. The heck-

Rollo: You are now. *grabs the phone and hangs up*

Ace: ...

Epel: So...?

Ace: Yeah. We need to go there.

Deuce: How can they be convinced to stay there when it hasn't been a week?

Ace: They got tired being our therapist.

The secretary: You'll be doing my job from now on! Good luck! <3

MC: Ayo- Why?

The vice president: President Rollo wants you to learn the student council's tasks immediately.

MC: ...

MC: *looking at Rollo* Really?

Rollo: Yes.

MC: ...

MC: Or you just want to have an alone time?

The vice and the secretary: Pft-

Rollo: *frowns*

Rollo: You're disappointing me with your behavior.

MC: Your depression is a shame. Speak for yourself.

The vice president: Now, now. Fighting isn't good.

The secretary: That's right! Besides, you two always get along!

Rollo: *scoffs* Start working.

MC: Tch. Fine.

Lilia: I'm glad you're not mad that MC is studying in Noble Bell College.

Malleus: Why would I be? When they are sending me updates.

Lilia: Wait. Really?

Malleus: Yes. *shows him their recent chat*

MC: Find some free time so we can troll Rollo. :D

Lilia: ...

Lilia: *laughs*

[orkbutch]

Rambling about Astarion bc im bored at work. I like Astarion because I think he is a genius take on The Evil RPG Companion, and is an especially great take on The Fixable Bad Guy. I don't think hes evil, but I do think Astarion is a genuinely bad person at the beginning, and I think Astarion is only drawn away from being a bad person - and experiences a great redemption arc - via active intervention from others. Astarion would not redeem himself without guidance; he is absolutely bent toward self destruction and evil at the beginning of the story.

I think comparing him with Shadowheart is what drew me to that conclusion. If you are nice to Shadowheart, as in you talk to her and respect her boundaries and do stuff she generally agrees with, she will choose to free Nightsong all on her own. You don't need to roll to convince her at all, or romance her or even push back on her Shar worship that much. You just leave it up to her, and she chooses that path. (Side note, what brilliant writing.)

Astarion is not like that at all. Even if you were tight as fuck he would not choose the good option, with no input, in Act 2. Astarion, like all the companions, needs help and connection to reach healthy actualization, but I think its great, resonant writing that Astarion needs the most active intervention of all. Because he's had his autonomy so completely taken away from him, he simply doesn't know how to use it anymore. He doesn't know how to connect with other people anymore. He's someone that's learned to enjoy cruelty, to resent the pleasure of others, and to be entirely selfish for survival. It makes sense that he must be dragged back into being capable of trust. He needs to be forced to be part of a community again; caring about things; allowing for vulnerability and optimism.

And like. How fucking smart is it to have THIS guy in THIS game. Because of the tadpole and the existential threat they're up against, he is actually forced to work with you. This kind of character is so hard to do in most RPGs because its like... why wouldn't he just betray you all and leave? Why would he stick with you? The tadpole clears all of that up. Astarion must stick with you or hes lost and dead. Astarion knows that you and the other companions are collectively stronger than him, so he can't betray you. He is forced to rely on you by default.

This is also what makes him SUCH a good version of the "you can fix him" romance; you are almost never the direct target of Astarion's bastardry because he can't fuck with you. The problem with Fix Him's is that usually they are a threat to the romantic lead, and fixing him requires enduring, soothing and forgiving the worst of his badness as some kind of test of loyalty, hopefully proving to him that being bad isn't necessary (toxic shit). But Astarion... can't do that. He is afraid to actually fuck you over because you are directly tied to his survival, and because you quickly show yourself to be more capable than him. He cannot have real power over you. (Until he's ascended, then he becomes the absolute worst version of the fix-it.)

I do think the trade off is that Astarion not directing his bastardry at you makes it easier to Ignore that Astarion is A Bad Guy, but I think that'd happen even if he was more of an asshole to you, so who cares. I think he's got the best written Redeemable Evil RPG Companion arch I've seen honestly. I love that he's so fun while being so tragic, whether redeemed or not.

[tinfoil-jones]

Somewhere out there in the multiverse there exists a Jerk Ford

Not an evil Ford, he's just a massive jerk. To everyone, except (ironically) his own version of Stan.

People didn't exclude him while he was growing up because of his six fingers, but because he was an absolute dick all of the time.

The only reason their high school wanted Ford to go to that fancy college was to send him away, and make it way less likely he would ever come back to Jersey.

Stan still breaks his Perpetual Motion Machine, but this version of Ford chooses to believe him when he says it was an accident, and stands up for him when Filbrick tries to kick Stan out.

He still goes to Backupsmore, this time with Stan (who graduated) in tow, and the only reason he and Fiddleford are 'friends' is because Ford still mathematically proved Fiddlefords theory on the Universe being a Hologram, but he rubs it in Fiddlefords face for not proving it on his own.

Backupsmore University only gives Ford the research grant in hope he'll leave and never come back.

The only reason he takes a deal with Bill is because he's going to build that portal, only to never activate it as a 'SIKE!' on Bill. He doesn't even care he's creating something that would revolutionize science as they know it, he just wants to troll a 'God'.

Stan has to convince (i.e actually beg) Fiddleford to help Ford.

Fiddleford doesn't even accidentally get his head sucked into the portal this time, he leaves because he could only stand Ford for so long before being done (he kept peeling the stickers off the Cubiks Cubes and putting them on different squares so Fiddleford couldn't solve them).

This time Ford goes through the portal, and it breaks, because he accidentally fell asleep in the portal room and got possessed by Bill who tried opening the portal, but Stan had to fight him to stop him, only to accidentally shove Bill!Ford into the portal.

They had a celebration and everything. Stan was the only one in town who didn't go.

Since Stan and Ford were known to be two separate people the whole time, and Stan just reported Ford as 'Missing' and he never took his identity, the townsfolk assumed he'd actually murdered Ford, but they never question it because they're just so glad that he's gone.

Jerk Ford goes out into the multiverse and every single other Ford, even the evil ones, absolutely hate this guy because no one can push their buttons better than, well, themself. He's not even a wanted criminal, because none of the dimensions want him there, they want him to be another dimensions problem.

There's a Ford Hate Club that isn't for hating on all Fords, just this one. Most of it is made up of other Fords.

Canon Ford hates him for being a massive jerk, only for Jerk Ford to tell him that biggest difference between them really is that he chooses to not be a jerk to the one person who matters most to them (i.e their twin brother Stan). The one Ford who appreciates his Stan and it's the Biggest Jerk ever.

Jerk Ford is still a jerk to alternate versions of Stanley, too. It's literally just his own that he's not a jerk to.

Thirty years later when Stan fixes the portal and brings him back, everyone else in Gravity Falls is immediately mad at him for bringing him back, including Dipper and Mabel who dislike him as soon as the glamour of a 'cool space Grunkle' wears off. Although, Dipper already disliked Ford before he even met him because his research journals give advice on cryptids that seems helpful, but is actually the opposite. (Like saying people should definitely and exclusively use water on Gremloblins).

The only reason Dipper wanted to find The Author in this dimension is that he wants to punch him in the face for his trolling.

So when Ford comes out of the portal he doesn't try to punch Stan, in fact he goes in for a hug, only for Dipper to punch him instead as soon as he heard 'The Author of the Journals'.

Stan tries to convince Ford to be nice to Mabel and Dipper; Ford isn't necessarily nice to them, but he isn't as big of a jerk as he could have been, which is a lot for him. So he doesn't purposely tangle all of Mabels yarn, or kill off Dippers character in Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.

Weirdmageddon still happens, but this time it's Dipper who destroys the snowglobe with the rift because he never wanted to be Fords apprentice, so he never knew what the rift was. He ended up breaking it on purpose because he got so sick of Fords shit that he wanted to break something Ford liked.

The reason they couldn't get the zodiac circle together during Weirdmageddon isn't because of Stan and Ford fighting, but because Ford couldn't stop being a jerk for two seconds and Robbie let go of his hand.

Weirdmageddon ends the same as it did in canon, with Stan sacrificing himself because of Fords metal plate, except this time Mabel and Dipper are even more frantic to bring their Grunkle Stan back, because they don't want him to be a blank slate that their Grunkle Ford would influence and possibly turn into another jerk (Which is something Jerk Ford actually wouldn't do, because he loves his brother for who he is).

Old Man McGucket himself personally funds The Stan O'War II expedition (not just the boat itself but stuff like the passports, paperwork, living expenses, ect.) just to keep Ford on the ocean, as far away from other people as possible.

And this is a sane Steve Jobs -esque Old Man McGucket who was never traumatized by the nightmare realm because of Ford. That's how much of a jerk this Ford is.

Follow Up

[empty-movement]

Welcome to Something Eternal: A Website Forum in 2023 wtf lmao

It's 2023, and a single belligerent rich guy destroyed one of the primary focal points of uh...global communication. Tumblr is, shockingly, kinda thriving despite the abuse it gets from its owners, but that I will call the iconic refusal of Tumblr users to let Tumblr get in the way of their using Tumblr. Reddit killed its API, removing the functionality of mobile apps that made it remotely readable (rip rif.) Discord, our current primary hangout, has made countless strange choices lately that indicate it has reached the summit of its usability and functionality, and can only decline from here as changes get made to prepare for shareholders. (NOTE: WROTE THIS POST BEFORE THEIR MOBILE "REDESIGN" LMAO)

The enshittification is intense, and it's coming from every direction. Social media platforms that felt like permanent institutions are instead slowly going to let fall fallow incredible amounts of history, works of art, thought, and fandoms. It kinda sucks!

A couple years ago, I posted about a new plan with a new domain, to focus on the archiving of media content, as I saw that to be the fatal weakness of the current ways the internet and fandoms work. Much has happened since to convince me to alter the direction of those efforts, though not abandon them entirely.

Long story short? We are launching a fucking website forum. In 2023.

If you remember In the Rose Garden, much about Something Eternal will be familiar. But this has been a year in the making, and in many ways it's far more ambitious than IRG was. We have put money on this. The forum is running on the same software major IT and technology businesses use, because I don't want the software to age out of usability within five years. It has an attached gallery system for me to post content to, including the Chiho Saito art collection. It has a profile post system that everyone already on the forum has decided is kinda like mini Twitter? But it is, fundamentally, a website forum, owned and run and moderated by us. We are not web devs. But we have run a website on pure spite and headbutting code for over twenty years, and we have over a decade of experience maintaining social spaces online, both on the OG forum, and on our Discord. Better skilled people with far more time than we have can and will build incredible alternatives to what is collapsing around us. But they're not in the room right now. We are. And you know what? Maybe it's time to return to a clunkier, slower moving, more conversation focused platform.

You're not joining a social media platform with the full polish of dozens of devs and automated moderation. Things might break, and I might need time to fix them. The emojis and such are still a work in progress. Because e-mails no longer route in reasonable normal ways, the sign-up process instead happens within the software, and has to be approved by mods. Design and structure elements may change. Etc. The point being, that the forum isn't finished, but it is at a place where I feel like I can present it to people, and it's people I need to help direct what functions and things will be in this space. You all will shape its norms, its traditions, its options...choices I could try to make now, but really...they're for us to create as a group! But the important stuff? That's there. Now let's drive this baby off the damn lot already!

Come! Join us!!

PS. As always, TERFs and Nazis need not apply.

[httpsserene]

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑

welcome to the table of contents for my one-thousand followers special !

i'm baffled at the amount of love and support from all of you; in under the two-months i've been writing on this blog, i've managed to have good enough writing to convince you guys to save my blog. i started writing f1 ff's with the sole purpose to provide more black!reader based content, and i never imagined that i'd have a thousand eyes reading my delusional scenarios lol. thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart :)

as promised, the special event is a continuation of the first upload of my f1 kinktober series. those of you who were desperate for a part-two of the corruption kink with charles leclerc / max verstappen / black!reader--here it is, in abundance. a five-part series (including the f1-ktober upload). merry christmas, loves xxx

if you would like to be added to this series' taglist, send me an ask or leave a reply.

all episodes uploaded at 12 PM EST on their release date.

posts tagged as # httpss :// 1k special.

all works can be found in my table of contents (m.list).

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: max and charles don’t mind receiving a five-second penalty for slipping past your boundaries. seeing a black and white flag doesn’t scare them in the slightest; not when you're performing so well under their guidance. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: multi-chaptered series.

view playlist? ↴

pilot: corruption kink w/ charles leclerc and max verstappen

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

episode two: 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿 | handjobs | 12/9/23

slightly less innocent, virgin!reader has had her view of pleasure shifted. her libido has increased to insane levels after she finally allowed her boyfriends to fix her…dry spell. charles and max have no issues with helping her ride out her newfound sexual appetite, and figure that she may be ready to take the next step. or, more accurately, take the next hand.

soundtrack - gun • doja cat

episode three: 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝘃𝗲 | fingering | 12/11/23

tainted, virgin!reader is growing tired of grinding against her boyfriends. she’s never touched herself before—no toys, no fingers, no fondling—the friction from a pillow used to be enough. but, maybe having something inside of her isn’t as terrifying as she believed. charles’ pretty pianist fingers don’t look too scary, and they way he raves about how talented max’s daunting thicker fingers are; well, she could be convinced to see what all the fuss is about.

soundtrack - pressure • ari lennox

episode four: 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘁𝗵 | oral sex | 12/15/23

soiled, virgin!reader is well aware of her boyfriends’ desire to eat her alive, sorry, to eat her out. from the way they can’t resist drinking her wetness off their (or her own) fingers, to the way they can’t stop running their mouths about getting their mouths on you: they’ve made how desperate they are, very clear. for some reason, she can’t get past her mental block to allow them to feast between her legs, or to taste what’s between theirs. max figures she just needs a demonstration to quell her fears; charles is a more than willing participant.

soundtrack - super freaky girl • nicki minaj

finale: 𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿 | vaginal sex | 12/17/23

tonight, innocent and virgin!reader will be defiled, deflowered, tarnished—whichever word you prefer. from the moment she told them she was ready to lose her virginity, they’ve been carefully planning out a special night, for her. and shockingly, there’s not an ounce of fear, anxiety, or doubt in her mind—max and charles have gained her complete trust. they haven’t given her a single reason to believe that they wouldn’t treat her right. she couldn’t have asked for better men to take her virginity—if this is corruption, she’s delighted to experience it.

soundtrack - wet dreamz • j.cole

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 ↴

extra scene: downforce

all my (terrified and oversensitive) homies hate vibrators!! max and charles introduce you to something better

© httpsserene2023

[evilminji]

You know... >.>

My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.

Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?

Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.

So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.

Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.

Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.

So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.

Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.

Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.

They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.

Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.

They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.

Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.

Which she was.

Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)

They have Apology Bribes.

They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...

Maybe...

That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?

They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...

And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...

She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.

Fine.

"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"

And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.

The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.

But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?

It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.

Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.

Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!

But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?

Uuuuuuhhhh?

Hi?

That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!

Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.

Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...

Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.

Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.

Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

[10underoot2]

I thought I would have so much to say about the car accident scene. And while I could go on for a while on why it's everything I've ever wanted from a scene of this nature and why it's a beautifully acted cinematic piece, I do think the beauty of the scene lies so much in silence. Their expressions are do a fantastic job to express their emotional state so I'm just gonna call attention to a few things I won't get over anytime soon.

Imagine being Haein and seeing your husband wrecking a car window in hysteria. Imagine seeing disbelief on his face when he sees you and walks towards you. Imagine watching him unable to breathe properly (sound on and high for this scene). Imagine seeing life flood into him as soon as you touch him.

Jiwon plays such an important part here. Because Haein has NEVER seen Hyunwoo like this. He's a pretty calm nice, non-violent guy. She knows him to like mostly everyone and he rarely gets angry - he's pretty composed. But then what is this look of complete shattered pain on his face? With a mix of disbelief, bearing the heaviest heart on the planet? He's unrecognisable to her. She can't make sense of any of his actions. She's in utter shock hearing how hardly any air is making it's way into his lungs.

In his eyes is a look of crazed wilderness just tamed. He's out of his sense. Completely lost in the events that have just passed. Not believing that he can breathe. That it's okay. All is well in the world for now. She's unscathed.

'What's going on? Calm down.'

The way she asks him to calm down - touching his face - cause she just doesn't know what in the world could send him in such a frenzy to forget himself. Her asking him to calm down here is everything to me. She's really just saying I'm here okay. Calm down. Calm down, you can breathe. Tell me what happened and I can fix it.

'Even still, Are you crazy? How could you break the window with your bare hands? Look at this!'

I know it probably didn't register to him at that point. But he's hearing her being worried for him again when he thought her lost forever. Wouldn't that sound like music to his ears.

And her...god she's so worried for him. She's never seen him like this. She doesn't know what happened to make him like this. One she sees his absolutely broken bloody hand. Two she's seeing her husband absolutely crushed. She's so confused.

That is until his words hit her like a truck. I think she had an idea that he did it to save her but she didn't know he did it because he thought her dead. And that makes all the difference for her.

Also I thought it was very interesting to keep showing his injured hand clenching. I think it was a way to show how the physical pain still didn't hold a candle to his emotional turmoil. He CLENCHES that broken hand multiple times. I can't even begin to think when he actively registered the pain.

The need for constant touch to reaffirm that she indeed is there. The sitting down. The head on her hand. The heavy breathing. *Chef's kiss*

I love women comforting the man they love when he's broken. Gah! That hand on his face and hug. Her embracing him. Letting him cry all he wants. Giving him the reaffirmation he needs by placing her self as close to him as possible. Trying to tame and override his sense. The hand on the nape of his neck. The hand caressing his hair lovingly. And good god, the RINGS.

Also notice his breathing on her shoulder. He's trying to calm himself. Telling himself she's here. Hearing her say it's alright. Everything will be alright.

I'm sure they stay like this until the ambulance comes and asks them if they're hurt. Only then Haein must've gently tore him apart from her (hand on his face again ofcourse) and convinced/guided him to finally get treatment. I can just Imagine Hyunwoo completely dishevelled going, 'Huh *sniffs*......oh.......Right, my hand' and that's when the pain hits him.

Special mention to the hospital conversation when Haein asks him 'Will you sob like this if I die?' and he says truthfully, bashfully, embarrassed but without missing a beat 'Ofcourse.' He's hiding behind nothing. He truly meant to give up on himself after her.

For me this is also the night Haein starts to write her diary. Hyunwoo must've been sound asleep, amped up on painkillers and she must've had so much time to sit and admire him and write.

Gif credits: @wolha and @seawherethesunsets

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Academic economists get big payouts when they help monopolists beat antitrust

After 40 years of rampant corporate crime, there's a new sheriff in town: Jonathan Kanter was appointed by Biden to run the DOJ Antitrust Divisoon, and he's overseen 170 "significant antitrust actions" in the past 2.5 years, culminating in a court case where Google was ruled to be an illegal monopolist:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

Kanter's work is both extraordinary and par for the course. As Kanter said in a recent keynote for the Fordham Law Competition Law Institute’s 51st Annual Conference on International Antitrust Law and Policy, we're witnessing an epochal, global resurgence of antitrust:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/speech/assistant-attorney-general-jonathan-kanter-delivers-remarks-fordham-competition-law-0

Kanter's incredible enforcement track record isn't just part of a national trend – his colleagues in the FTC, CFPB and other agencies have also been pursuing an antitrust agenda not seen in generations – but also a worldwide trend. Antitrust enforcers in Canada, the UK, the EU, South Korea, Australia, Japan and even China are all taking aim at smashing corporate monopolies. Not only are they racking up impressive victories against these giant corporations, they're stealing the companies' swagger. After all, the point of enforcement isn't just to punish wrongdoing, but also to deter wrongdoing by others.

Until recently, companies hurled themselves into illegal schemes (mergers, predatory pricing, tying, refusals to deal, etc) without fear or hesitation. Now, many of these habitual offenders are breaking the habit, giving up before they've even tried. Take Wiz, a startup that turned down Google's record-shattering $23b buyout offer, understanding that the attempt would draw more antitrust scrutiny than it was worth:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/wiz-turns-down-23-billion-022926296.html

As welcome as this antitrust renaissance is, it prompts an important question: why didn't we enforce antitrust law for the 40 years between Reagan and Biden?

That's what Kanter addresses the majority of his remarks to. The short answer is: crooked academic economists took bribes from monopolists and would-be monopolists to falsify their research on the impacts of monopolists, and made millions (literally – one guy made over $100m at this) testifying that monopolies were good and efficient.

After all, governments aren't just there to enforce rules – they have to make the rules first, and do to that, they need to understand how the world works, so they can understand how to fix the places where it's broken. That's where experts come in, filling regulators' dockets and juries' ears with truthful, factual testimony about their research. Experts can still be wrong, of course, but when the system works well, they're only wrong by accident.

The system doesn't work well. Back in the 1950s, the tobacco industry was threatened by the growing scientific consensus that smoking caused cancer. Industry scientists confirmed this finding. In response, the industry paid statisticians, doctors and scientists to produce deceptive research reports and testimony about the tobacco/cancer link.

The point of this work wasn't necessarily to convince people that tobacco was safe – rather, it was to create the sense that the safety of tobacco was a fundamentally unanswerable question. "Experts disagree," and you're not qualified to figure out who's right and who's wrong, so just stop trying to figure it out and light up.

In other words, Big Tobacco's cancer denial playbook wasn't so much an attack on "the truth" as it was an attack on epistemology – the system by which we figure out what is true and what isn't. The tactic was devastatingly effective. Not only did it allow the tobacco giants to kill millions of people with impunity, it allowed them to reap billions of dollars by doing so.

Since then, epistemology has been under sustained assault. By the 1970s, Big Oil knew that its products would render the Earth unfit for human habitation, and they hired the same companies that had abetted Big Tobacco's mass murder to provide cover for their own slow-motion, planetary scale killing spree.

Time and again, big business has used assaults on epistemology to provide cover for unthinkable crimes. This has given rise to today's epistemological crisis, in which we don't merely disagree about what is true, but (far more importantly) disagree about how the truth can be known:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/25/black-boxes/#when-you-know-you-know

Ask a conspiratorialist why they believe in Qanon or Hatians in Springfield eating pets, and you'll get an extremely vibes-based answer – fundamentally, they believe it because it feels true. As the old saying goes, you can't reason someone out of a belief they didn't reason their way into.

This assault on reason itself is at the core of Kanter's critique. He starts off by listing three cases in which academic economists allowed themselves to be corrupted by the monopolies they studied:

George Mason University tricked an international antitrust enforcer into attending a training seminar that they believed to be affiliated with the US government. It was actually sponsored by the very companies that enforcer was scrutnizing, and featured a parade of "experts" who asserted that these companies were great, actually.

An academic from GMU – which receives substantial tech industry funding – signed an amicus brief opposing an enforcement action against their funders. The academic also presented a defense of these funders to the OECD, all while posing as a neutral academic and not disclosing their funding sources.

An ex-GMU economist, Joshua Wright, submitted a study defending Qualcomm against the FTC, without disclosing that he'd been paid to do so. Wright has elevated undisclosed conflicts of interest to an art form:

https://www.wsj.com/us-news/law/google-lawyer-secret-weapon-joshua-wright-c98d5a31

Kanter is at pains to point out that these three examples aren't exceptional. The economics profession – whose core tenet is "incentive matter" – has made it standard practice for individual researchers and their academic institutions to take massive sums from giant corporations. Incredibly, they insist that this has nothing to do with their support of monopolies as "efficient."

Academic centers often serve as money-laundries for monopolist funders; researchers can evade disclosure requirements when they publish in journals or testify in court, saying only that they work for some esteemed university, without noting that the university is utterly dependent on money from the companies they're defending.

Now, Kanter is a lawyer, not an academic, and that means that his job is to advocate for positions, and he's at pains to say that he's got nothing but respect for ideological advocacy. What he's objecting to is partisan advocacy dressed up as impartial expertise.

For Kanter, mixing advocacy with expertise doesn't create expert advocacy – it obliterates expertise, as least when it comes to making good policy. This mixing has created a "crisis of expertise…a pervasive breakdown in the distinction between expertise and advocacy in competition policy."

The point of an independent academia, enshrined in the American Association of University Professors' charter, is to "advance knowledge by the unrestricted research and unfettered discussion of impartial investigators." We need an independent academy, because "to be of use to the legislator or the administrator, [an academic] must enjoy their complete confidence in the disinterestedness of [his or her] conclusions."

It's hard to overstate just how much money economists can make by defending monopolies. Writing for The American Prospect, Robert Kuttner gives the rate at $1,000/hour. Monopoly's top defenders make unimaginable sums, like U Chicago's Dennis Carlton, who's brought in over $100m in consulting fees:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-09-24-economists-as-apologists/

The hidden cost of all of this is epistemological consensus. As Tim Harford writes in his 2021 book The Data Detective, the truth can be known through research and peer-review:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford

But when experts deliberately seek to undermine the idea of expertise, they cast laypeople into an epistemological void. We know these questions are important, but we can't trust our corrupted expert institutions. That leaves us with urgent questions – and no answers. That's a terrifying state to be in, and it makes you easy pickings for authoritarian grifters and conspiratorial swindlers.

Seen in this light, Kanter's antitrust work is even more important. In attacking corporate power itself, he is going after the machine that funds this nihilism-inducing corruption machine.

This week, Tor Books published SPILL, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/25/epistemological-chaos/#incentives-matter

Image: Ron Cogswell (modified) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:George.Mason.University.Arlington.Campus.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[queenie-ofthe-void]

I've seen a few secret admirer Steddies going around where Steve's the one giving the notes (which I LOVE! I feel like those aren't as common)

But I headcanon Steve as having the worst handwriting. Therefore, I present platonic partners in crime CheerKing (is that right? Idk)

~~~

Under no conditions would Steve ask Carol to write the notes. But he's always liked Chrissy, and she seems trustworthy.

They strike up a deal. Chrissy will dictate Steve's notes and drop them in Eddie's locker herself. In return, Steve has to act as her fake-boyfriend to keep Jason at bay.

Then SHENANIGANS! Eddie gets feelings for Admirer, he sees Chrissy slip a note in his locker after Hellfire one evening. He's never had someone crush on him before, and he's straight (cue internalized homophobia, childhood trauma, big feelings for Steve he can't process) so he tries to convince himself he likes her.

The only problem is she's dating King Steve. Eddie hates the guy, with his stupid shiny hair and his big brown eyes and his moles and his smile... why does he get all the girls? Chrissy's the first girl to ever like him and of course Mr. Dreamy is dating her. They're not even clingy like he was with Wheeler so he probably doesn't even like her that much, just sees her as a rebound.

Eddie actually replies to the notes, leaving them in the library books Admirer tells him to. Steve knows Eddie likes Admirer, the pieces of Steve he shares in the notes, and it's the only way Steve gets to talk to him and he lives for it. But instead of Eddie asking who Admirer is, Steve watches as Eddie starts flirting with Chrissy. Steve gets all hurt and jealous because he thought Eddie was gay but now he's unsure. Still, he can't give up getting Eddie's replies, so he keeps writing.

Does Chrissy play along to keep Steve's secret even though this guy is crushing on her? Chrissy really likes Eddie, but she likes him as a friend. She decides to not tell him he's mistaken, because she wants to keep getting invites to band practice at Gareth's so she can spend more time with their cute friend Jeff.

Let's make it even more complicated! Instead of Tammy Thompson, Robin has a crush on Chrissy and sees her slip a note into Munson's locker on her way out of band practice and decides she's going to tell Steve to take him down a peg and hopefully breaks up with Chrissy. They then have a bathroom scene: she's been watching Steve and Chrissy for months and tells him how it's fucked up that he follows Eddie around, stares at him across the cafeteria, etc (she's saying it's bc Steve's jealous / Steve thinks she's calling him out). So he confesses, and cries. She feels like an asshat so she comes out too. They're just two gay idiots in love with straight people (only one of them is wrong. Sorry Robin!! Idk how to fix that part).

Steve starts coming with Chrissy to Hellfire night. Steve's doing it for protection from Jason, who's getting increasingly angry about Chrissy and Eddie. Eddie thinks Steve's being nice because he's sizing him up, trying to insert himself in between him and Chrissy in some macho way.

It all comes to a head when Jason catches Chrissy hanging with Jeff in the library (she's told Jeff EVERYTHING and is picking up Eddie's last reply). Jason hears them talking about Eddie planning to ask Chrissy out and decides to follow Eddie out to the quarry after school. Robin saw Jason pull out behind him and runs to tell Steve before he starts practice.

Steve rushes out and saves Eddie, then brings him home to patch him up. Eddie's pissy about it, Steve thinks it's adorable but frustrating. Jeff and Chrissy stop by the trailer when Eddie misses practice.

Eddie confesses his feelings to Chrissy, but she's holding hands with Jeff. Steve's forced to admit he's Admirer, sending Eddie head first into a sexuality crisis. But it's happy ever after so it's all good.

We get platonic hellcheer, platonic kingcheer (??), platonic stobin, Jeff x Chrissy (corrodedcheer??), and Steddie.

Idk there's something here but I don't want to write it lol Too many POVs and through lines for a person who already has a million WIPs.

[pyrodolls]

can you write sounding with one of the yan boys or ignoring them because of something?

GIVING SUPERFAN! AND STALKER! YANDERE BOYS THE COLD SHOULDER HCS

WARNINGS: obsessiveness, sfw, some slight su!c!de references, bayani is basically a servant and victor needs a therapist, just overall unhealthy behavior cuz they're yanderes. (i do not condone yanderes irl and this is for writing purposes) gender neutral reader, no use of y/n.

A/N: hey guys i just found out my best friend might be dating my ex bf (that made me hide in my house for a year) which is funny bc he told me "not to worry about her" while we were dating. and my birthday is in 2 hours so it's quite an unfortunate time to find out that they've apparently been dating for a few months. if it's true, then whatever LMFAOOO now she's gotta deal with him and it ain't my problem. also thanks for 1k followers, you guys are awesome!! sorry for not updating much, i just don't have a lot of motivation these days

if you ignored bayani...

bro do you *want* him to jump off a cliff???

he is panicking. he is having a CRISIS

bayani lives to please you. if he's talking to you and you just ignored him for whatever reason, he would be heartbroken. absolutely crushed.

he would attempt to ask what's wrong, and fix it as soon as possible. as much as he enjoys being mistreated by you, he'd hate for you to be upset with him for an extended period of time.

his first instinct is to fix whatever he did wrong. he would automatically blame himself, even if it wasn't actually his fault.

he always seeks your love and validation. if you were to ignore him, he would literally sink into the floor and die.

if you forgive him and stop ignoring him, he would be overjoyed. and he'd be less clingy, and a lot more careful around you. he wouldn't want you to get mad at him ever again. that would be his worst nightmare. if you want him to return to his old self, let him know he can be clingy again. if you don't, he'll remain cautious around you for the rest of his life. he just wants you to be happy with him. he can hold himself back from showing too much affection if it means you'll approve of him.

if you ignored victor...

yeah no he's not having it lmao

he'd be so butthurt. and unlike bayani, victor would be very annoying and start hanging around you more. usually he lets you do the talking, or follows you around from a far distance. but if you started ignoring him, he'd become more talkative just to piss you off.

he hates being ordered around, so he's not gonna let you stop him from interacting with you. he's gonna keep talking to you and hanging around you no matter what.

it'd take about a week for him to get agitated. he'd wonder what he did wrong, and try to ignore his insecurities by pushing them on you. instead of drowning in his sorrow, he'd turn it into anger and blame you. you're the one being unreasonable, he did nothing wrong. of course he doesn't believe that, but that's what he would convince himself. he would rather take his anger out on you, the love of his life, rather than admit how unhappy he is with himself and how he treats others.

he'd find ways to punish you for your behavior. as much as he loves you, he won't accept any disrespect. he takes it as a huge blow to his (very fragile) ego.

BUT if you gave up and started talking to him again, he'd get a huge ego boost. of course you'd talk to him again, he's just irresistible! this was totally expected... even though he was crying in his bedroom every night wondering why you weren't talking to him and got very insecure, wondering what he did to make you mad at him. would he ever confess this, though? nope.

he's too prideful to admit that he missed your voice and attention, but he'd show how sorry he is by helping you with chores and work. if you bring it up, he'll say something along the lines of: "i'm not doing this because i'm sorry... i just think you weren't doing it right. i know how to do it better."

this insecure and bratty ass man child would rather sit naked on a hot grill than verbally say sorry lmao

[yelenasbitch]

Flu Season

Summary: The flu is going around, and Natasha's girlfriend and sister both get it.

Word Count: 1,059

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: Reader and Nat are in an established relationship.

There's a horrible flu going around the entire city, and Tony has brought it to the compound. Or maybe one of the staff or agents, but still: you like to blame Tony. It helps keep him humble (as humble as that man can be, anyway). 

Bruce is the first one to get ill and he keeps trying to sneak into the lab and work, while Tony keeps having to escort him out and back to his room to rest. The big cry baby puts on his whole suit and helmet saying that it ‘keeps out the germs, you know!’ and maybe he was right about that… 

Sam is ill too; the poor guy moves into the compound permanently and gets the flu two days later. You had immediately begun making them both soup, even as you laughed at their misfortune with Yelena. In fact, the two of you had made so many jokes, and laughed for so long, that your stomachs hurt. And didn't stop hurting. And now you’re both in bed, day four of feeling quite horrible, and you don’t even have the energy to yell at Stark. You comfort yourself by planning mean things to do to him when you’re feeling better. It works, a bit.

Steve and Bucky, their immune systems far superior thanks to the super soldier serum, are taking care of Sam, rounding up Bruce, and helping Natasha with you and Yelena. Because your girlfriend is feeling perfectly fine, still. Even when her girlfriend and her sister and several friends have gotten ill. It’s not fair. 

She enters your bedroom and you throw a pillow at her which she neatly sidesteps. Yelena, next to you in bed, laughs until she heaves and you laugh even as you start to tear up, emotions all over the place while you're sick. Natasha looks… tired and fond as she ambles over to the two of you, pressing a glass of water into Yelena’s hand and encouraging small sips, and then walking over and placing a light kiss on your head. 

“I don’t feel well,” you pout as you look up at her, nonsensically hoping she can fix it.

“We don’t feel well,” says Yelena, mirroring your pout.

“Go get Tony, and beat him up in front of us,” you continue, “that’ll help.” And Yelena is nodding, carefully, next to you.

“I’m not going to do that, he’s having enough trouble dealing with Banner and Sam. I don’t know which one is more annoying while they're sick,” Natasha muses, handing a thermometer to each of you as she speaks.

You roll your eyes at her and Yelena chooses to flip her off, though both of you dutifully place the thermometers in your mouths. You’ve both learned. The first time it was handed to you and you shook your head, the stern look in Natasha’s eyes had been enough to convince you. Unfortunately, Yelena had been more difficult and fought so much that she had thrown up while backing away from Natasha, dizziness overtaking her. That had set you off and you were sure you had almost witnessed a murder. Still, neither one of you had gone against Natasha since. 

The thermometers both beep and Natasha takes them, a relieved look passing over her face as she says that “both your temperatures are normal again. You’ll be better in no time.”

That said, she still presses more of the foul tasting medicine into both of your hands, watching as you both take it, wincing at the aftertaste. You glare at her and it sounds like Yelena has said something unkind in Russian, which even though you can’t understand, you agree with on a spiritual level.

“It's still too cold in here,” Yelena complains, and you're shaking your head at her, relieved when you don’t become dizzy (maybe you really are getting better). Strangely, you always prefer a colder room than the tough Russian spy, even when you’re both healthy. 

“Too warm.” 

“C’mon Lena,” says Natasha, before it can turn into a serious disagreement, “you can go back to your room and rest. I turned up the heat for you already.” And Yelena perks up at that, enough that she lets her sister help her up and escort her to her bedroom.

You stay in bed and ask FRIDAY to turn down the temperature a bit more, now that Yelena's gone. 

“Unfortunately Miss Romanoff has asked me to ensure it does not get any colder than the present temperature, as it won’t be helpful to get too cold while you’re still ill.”

You curse and glare daggers at Natasha as she walks back in. She smiles at you, eyes brighter now that you and her sister are both doing better, and you love her so much in that instant that you forget to breathe for a second. It must show on your face since she smiles even wider, and gets into bed with you, tucking you into her arms. You grumble a bit for show, even as you nestle in closer to her chest, listening to her heartbeat and her steady breathing. 

You’re drowsy from the medicine, eyes fluttering while she talks to you about this and that, knowing that you like hearing her voice. And it's at this point, when you’re drifting in and out that you hear her say the word vacation, and you try to pull yourself away from the edge of sleep. 

It works long enough for you to tune in to her for a second, “…a nice beach or something, just the two of us, and I’m pretty sure Tony owns his own island. Or maybe we should visit Paris or Rome, or both, because…”

You lose the battle against sleep, but you aren’t that upset since your dreams are now filled with scenes of Natasha: laughing on a beach, sun on her exposed skin and mischief in her eyes, the two of you walking along the Seine at night, and eating Italian gelato together on cobblestoned streets. 

Thoughts of a vacation, however, are put on hold when, two days later, Natasha wakes up with a fever. 

(You gladly pamper her and repay her for taking such good care of you while you were sick.)

(Yelena ‘helps’ by gleefully giving Natasha the disgusting medicine and taking her temperature more than you really think is necessary.)