#high penetration formula

[metalhead-brainrot]

[Album of the day] Electric Machete - High Penetration Formula

Borgo Massano, Italy // 2023

[Genres] stoner rock, heavy psych

[FFO] Rush

[Thoughts] Power trio out of agrarian Italy! High Penetration Formula is one of the better stoner rock albums I own, solid enough that I can't put it down. This is stripped-down, high-energy riff worship. Eat up.

o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::>

[p1astr81]

friend is just a word

In which: you’re drunk off your ass and accidentally mistake formula one driver for a friend.

Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

warnings: excessive alcohol consumption, not proofread😵‍💫

an: TYSM FOR 600 FOLLOWERS🥳🥳🥳

The music was blasting, light flares obstructing your vision while you tried to stumble back to your friends on weakening legs. The drink in your hand kissed the rim off the glass every now and then, but you hadn’t spilt any of it.

Your shoulder bumped into another, and you went to apologize, but your thoughts were thrown off by his familiar face.

If his face was familiar, he had to be a friend. Right?

A hand of yours gripped onto his shoulder for stability. He eyed the hand with a raised brow, but neglected to verbally question it.

It felt like your brain was trying to communicate with you, but it couldn’t penetrate the fog caused by the alcohol. “I didn’t know you were here!” His brown hair flopped when he flinched away from you, your voice far too loud for his ears to bare. “How have you been?! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Uh, good. I guess?” You didn’t catch his nervous glances.

“That’s amazing! You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I got that call back about the job with sky sports.”

He raised his brows in interest. “Oh really? What for?” His head cocked to the side.

“A second interview! I didn’t even know they did second interviews. I thought it was just one and done!” You laughed, an irregular high-pitched sound.

By now, Oscar was quite sure you weren’t aware of who he really was. Just that you thought you knew him. “Probably so they know you won’t bother the drivers.”

You feigned offense. “What! I would never do such a thing!”

Ironic, Oscar thought, you’re kind of doing it right now. But he didn’t really care. He actually found it kind of amusing.

He chuckled. “No, I’m sure you’d never bother them.”

You folded over in laughter. He didn’t even know he said anything funny. “Oh, you are too funny, Oscar!” You pretended to wipe a tear.

Strangely, that action might’ve brought you to your senses.

“Piastri.” Was the only word you spoke. It sat on the fringes of inaudible.

The panic that washed over your features was too humorous. He couldn’t not grin.

And then you went white. “I’m so sorry. I thought- oh, god.” You hid your face behind your hand. “I did not mean to bother you. I thought you were one of my friends.”

Oscar only chuckled. “I figured. No worries. It was pretty funny to watch.”

Maybe, just maybe, a part of him was glad it was him and not some other random guy in the bar.

“I’m gonna- yeah I’m gonna go back to my actually friends now.” You rambled. “Sorry!” A squeak.

The conversation didn’t end when you left, because then he had to return to his own party. Lando made fun of him for it.

“Awe! Osco finally found a girlfriend!” He teased, earning a head shake from Oscar.

“She was just drunk.” He waved off.

But lando wouldn’t let up. The whole night, he made off handed comments. He pointed her out anytime he saw her. And at one point,

“I’m gonna go talk to her. Be a wingman.” He flashed Oscar a toothy, mischievous grin and winked at him. Before Oscar could object, he was off.

You were laughing your ass off at something one of your friends said when a slightly slurred, British voice interjected. “Hey girls!” He greeted the group, a bright smile, before turning his gaze to you. “Hi.” He repeated, trying not to laugh at your overly shocked expression. “You see that guy in the blue shirt? Yeah, he wants your number but is too much of a pussy to ask for it himself, so here I am.” He explained with copious amounts of amusement.

Your brain took a minute to catch up with him. “Uh, uhm- yeah. Sure. I guess. Uh.” You scrambled to find something to write on and write with. “I have no paper.”

“Right.” Lando handed you his phone, open to the notes app. He couldn’t stop grinning as your fingers fumbled to type in your number, and when he said his goodbyes, and when he returned to Oscar.

“Got it. You can thank me by making me your best man.” He shrugged, too cocky for how easy the situation was.

“Yeah, whatever.” Oscar dismissed, but he took the number and saved it in his phone anyway.

He made a mental note to call you tomorrow, after your inevitable hangovers faded away.

[h1biscusgal]

Tee hee y'all, i'm not back but i loved y'all sm so take this subliminal i took six days to perfect.

I AM NOT BACK, NO, I AM SO SORRY.

my studying session been going good AND YALLLLLLL I MISS YOU SO MUCH, I CAN'T EVEN EXPLAIN.

so, last week, when i closed tumblr, my mind was reeling from one thing it kept repeating itself:

"i wanna give smth to my people in tumblr."

why? i've seen people having problems for the void, i've seen people say they are so close but their "heartbeat" stops them, some say they sleep without knowing.

so i thought.

"mf, why not a subliminal that will fucking guarantee you to enter IN EVERRRYYYY situation?"

think you need to keep awake? this sub

think you need to sleep to enter the void? still this sub

need to enter while using it? this sub

need to enter but can't have your phone with you during sleep? again this sub, you can listen to it during the day and try at night.

like WHATEVER the fuck you do, i have made a loophole for it, now for god's sake please be careful, it gave me such a headache making it my head is still pounding, it has PURE fucking delta waves and 5 set of repeated NON-LAYERED NOT TOO SPED UP affirmations, why?

these are the safest type of affirmations that penetrate the subconscious, i cannot express this enough please.

PLEASE BE FUCKING CAREFUL WITH IT, DON'T LOOP TOO MUCH, DELTA WAVES CAN MAKE YOU DEADASS TIRED.

now this? holy shit this? i call it my beautiful Voided Hibiscus project, and yes i love hibiscuses-

this sub???

here's the benefits:

Voided Hibiscus is a one-of-a-kind, high-power subliminal crafted to guarantee entry into the Void State — no matter your state of mind, environment, or experience level.

Whether you're lying still or fidgeting, wide awake or asleep, listening consciously or with it running in the background — the moment this subliminal activates, the Void becomes inevitable, it is fucking guaranteed and i made so sure of it by science.

During these exact 22 minutes and 22 seconds, your mind will swallow THE LITERAL definition of "master at void." The affirmations are layered with master precision — spoken, whispered, echoed, reversed — to penetrate the deepest layers of the subconscious, bypassing every mental block, doubt, or distraction. Delta isochronic tones pulse beneath the surface, gently entraining your brain to the perfect frequency of surrender, silence, and awareness, like ya'll i am NOT playing.

This is for you if:

You want to enter the Void effortlessly, with full certainty.

You want to enter during the day, or while sleeping — either way works.

You’re tired of trying methods and want results without effort.

You want a subliminal that works permanently — even after you stop listening.

Features:

Affirmations that dissolve fidgeting, overthinking, boredom, and resistance.

Built-in confidence: You will never doubt your ability to enter the void again.

Repetition formula designed to rewrite your subconscious with absolute certainty.

Works even if you accidentally fall asleep.

Activates the Void even when played silently or in the background.

After consistent listening, your command over the Void becomes instinctual.

like mf, you is the bored type? you is the annoyed impatient as fuck type? you is the type to try for 2 minutes and give up? homie this shit will throw you in the void while you move, fidget, breathe hard, feeling bored, sleep accidentally.

like what the fuck am i supposed to do next-

THIS CAN BE USED IN THREE WAYS:

awake method: lay down and have it on your head (no mf you won't sleep accidentally and ruin it bc i backed it up that you'll wake up there) and simply repeat affs for it, watch yourself enter without even knowing how the fuck you entered, i swear if you trust? you'll enter within the duration of those 22 minutes and 22 seconds, there's no "when", it's like a guarantee.

sleep method: if you is the type that yo parents let you have your phone with you? use it overnight and watch yourself wake up in the void.

thru-theday method: just listen to it during the day and do any method before sleep or just anywhere and bam.

there's no "how" here, this sub? almost made me tumble, i am not tryna brag, no seriously, but i thought to post smth that helps ppl, now let me stop yapping the fuck out and take this:

(so sorry for this quick and messy post-)

good luck loves, and send me the asks and messages coming! i'll be on here for a very few minutes and see what asks there is to answer.

EDIT: I AM SORRY WHAT THE FUCK???? LAST TIME I CHECKED I HAD 661 FOLLOWERS NOW IT'S A 1700 SMTH????? I AM SCREAMING PLEASE I LOVE YALL SO MUCH??? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT I WANNA CRY PLEASE.

[devilishchaos]

Shower | Lando Norris Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Lando Norris

Summary: Y/N and Lando have soft shower sex.

Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit talk, oral (m receiving), unprotected vaginal penetration (don’t do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, swallowing, use of pet names

AN: domestic Lando, because I'm a sucker for domesticity <3. also..not me and yet another shower sex fic. also pt.2..am I back? I don't know, just wanted to write about Lando. enjoy x

Word Count: 2 517 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

You had it coming for a while, you knew it in the back of your mind. And it’s not like you weren’t looking forward to it, but just that the urges, that were slowly growing stronger for Lando, inside of you took a backseat as real world deadlines threatened to overcome you.

Lando had been staying home a lot more than usual, and found himself with a rare two-week break between races, a welcome pause in the relentless pace of the Formula 1 calendar. After months of high-pressure performances and grueling travel schedules, the weariness has started to catch up with him, coupled with the need to be with you and make up for the lost time, due to his hectic schedule, caused him to not want to leave the house. 

Coming back from work every evening, you were greeted with the sight of him whipping up something simple but delicious for you to feast on, his eyes getting all crinkled up as a smile covered his face whenever he heard you yell “I'm home!”. He was playing the part of a perfect boyfriend to the T and you really couldn’t have been more thankful for everything that he was doing for you, even though you couldn’t always say it out loud. 

But behind his loving exterior was something he wasn’t really telling you, for fear of coming across as selfish when he could clearly see the amount of stress you were already in. You weren’t blind though and just like him, you too could see that he was in need of some affection and some attention, was in need of someone telling him he did well on the circuit and was still doing well at home, and you also knew you were that someone. 

You could feel it in his touch, lingering just a second longer than necessary, his fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your skin. You could feel it in his kisses, turning hot and fervent despite starting out as soft and gentle. You knew he needed it and you knew he wasn’t going to be explicit enough and say it out loud nor was he going to pressure you into doing something you didn’t have the energy to do. 

Yet upon hearing the slow pitter-patter of water as you came back home, you had found your feet leading you towards the bathroom, your heart picking up its pace at the thought of Lando taking a shower. The bathroom door unlocked as always, his steamy silhouette could be seen through the glass wall. You couldn’t tell what came over you in that moment, but before you could stop yourself, your hands were moving on their own, getting rid of your clothing piece by piece, until you were naked. 

Your hand came resting against the glass as you peeked inside, taking in the sight in front of you. Lando looks gorgeous, the water trickling down his body and hugging him at all the right places, his shoulders and hipbones, making you want to lick the wetness away. The sight alone is enough to make you press your legs closer together, a need growing inside of you as you take your time admiring the beauty that is your boyfriend. 

Lando had his head under the water, his wet curls sticking to his forehead and the side of his face, his mouth slightly parted to let the warm water hit his tongue as he was lost in thought. And to say that he was beyond surprised when he opened his eyes and found you on the other side of the glass, naked and looking nothing but breathtaking to him, would be an understatement. A groan escapes his lips under his breath as he stares at you, his eyes trailing down, taking in your completely naked body and swallowing thickly, a hunger rising in him, just looking at you.

That is, until a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting Lando’s as he calls you out. 

“Baby?” He murmurs, his voice sounding low as the water still hitting his face causes his words to come out muffled, but you could still hear that his tone was filled with need and anticipation. His left hand moves from where it was against the wall to press against the glass, his eyes meeting yours. There’s a silent conversation happening between you within just that moment, his eyes full of want, making his desire for you clear.

"I'm home" you say in a soft murmur.

“Yeah I can see that..” Lando mutters, his eyes still glued to you through the glass, his mouth going dry as his eyes rake you up and down, taking in every inch of you as if it was the first time he was seeing you like that. He was trying to focus hard on not letting his eyes linger between your legs, because the thought of it already has his brain short circuit.

“You want to join me in here?” He questions, his fingers tapping the glass lightly, giving a small smirk.

Lando can’t fight the grin that appears on his face as you nod, his mind already racing over what the two of you would do. He grabs the shower glass and pushes it open, his arms spreading out towards you as a silent invitation for you to come inside. He can’t wait to touch you again, to feel your skin against his, to hear your soft moans, but even amidst all of that he still has a tiny voice inside his head reminding him that you’re probably tired.

Lando closes the glass door back when you make your way inside, and all it takes is a couple of seconds for him to pull you into his chest against his wet, warm body, his strong arms wrapping around you gently. He lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he buries his face into your neck, the stress melting away from him just from having you close. His hands move up and down against your wet back, the water trickling between you.

He can tell what you’re planning and while it is something he’s been craving all these past days or weeks, now that you were right in front of him, he feels as if just having you so close to him is enough. And so he decides to show you, placing the softest of kisses to your crown as his grip tightens around your waist, the sensation making you lift your head up from his chest, a smile on your face. 

“You are so beautiful.” Lando whispers and that’s all you need to lose your footing. 

Before either of you can realize, your lips are moving in sync with his, a rhythm both familiar and new, being set up as you dance around your desires. You don’t know who started it, but it’s not like it matters anyway. All you can think of in that moment is the way his tongue explores every inch of your mouth, his teeth digging into your bottom lip as you get lost in the love only he can give you. And it’s the same for Lando, his senses getting overwhelmed as he finds himself getting high on you, on the way you make him feel. You’re all he could ever want and more, and every time you touch him, it feels like you’re reminding him of the reason he’s alive. 

So he takes it in his stride, finally letting go of his fears and his worries, completely losing himself in you, in the love he feels for you. His hands roam all over your water-covered body, from your cheeks to your neck to your breasts and hips, and he takes his sweet time caressing and feeling every single one of them, just like you do too, your own hands lying pressed flat against his toned body. You touch him everywhere, letting your focus shift from his hair to his biceps to the round cheeks of his ass, and as you do so, you also find yourself pulling away from his lips, kissing down his body, crouching lower and lower till you’re on your knees in front of him. 

The sight makes something turn on inside of Lando’s brain, his hands making their way to your cheeks again. But this time, he’s just a little more assertive, pulling you closer to his crotch, because he can tell you already have eyes for his cock. 

“Want a taste?” he asks, his voice hoarse already and a lazy smirk playing on his lips. You can only nod at that, biting your lip as you lean in, placing a kiss to his tip. And from the sigh that escapes from Lando’s mouth at the small gesture, you know it’s just like the first time for him, over and over again. 

“Then suck on it, baby.” his voice calls out again, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

With that, your hands are quick to get wrapped around his shaft as you take him into your mouth, making him throw his head back in the slightest of pleasure. As your tongue begins to roll around his head, you make sure to savor the heavenly taste of his finest delicacy, your teeth grazing against his flesh as you decide to make up for the time and the rounds you’ve lost out on. 

His tip was already leaking, his body eagerly reacting to your touch, the anticipation building within him. He swallowed, his words caught in his throat, all he could do was let out a groan in response. His hips instinctively moved forward, pushing his cock further into your mouth, his body seeking more pleasure, more of you. He was powerless to the sensations coursing through him, every swipe of your tongue sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

"More," he found himself whispering, his voice rough "I want you to swirl your tongue around the tip, take it into your mouth, then-" he whispered, his eyes flicking down to you, the intensity in his gaze burning with need "Push your tongue into the slit, please.” 

Lando's body tensed, a low groan escaping him as you did as he asked, his eyes falling shut, his face flushed, his jaw clenched in an effort to hold back.

"Good girl," he groaned, his words husky, his voice filled with appreciation and a hint of dominance. 

Lando's eyes fluttered shut, a low moan escaping him as your free hand found his balls. His body tensed, his fingers gripping your hair a little tighter, his hips instinctively pushing forward in a shallow thrust.

"That's right," he growled, his voice filled with need, his words a husky rasp as he tried to control himself, his body trembling. 

As you pick up the pace, your surroundings fade away, the sound of the water acting as background music while you continue to give head to Lando, enjoying the effect you have on him. His hands guide you along, resting at your head, as your own take to worship his cock, your cheeks hollowed out to the max. Maybe it’s the lack of touch that he’s been forced to go through for the past weeks, or maybe it’s the way you seem so determined on bringing him to his knees, but Lando can’t seem to control the urge to cum right then and there, his body involuntarily thrusting his dick right down your throat and making you choke. 

“Go faster, please.” he groans, pretty sounds emanating from deep inside his chest as you oblige, going faster and harder as you begin deepthroating him. Countdown from ten in your head and that’s all you need to have him lose it, his seed seeping into your mouth as you lap every bit up. He tastes just as you remember or maybe even better because it’s been so long. As the last drops trickle down your throat, you let out a sigh of satisfaction, licking your lips before gripping his thighs to pull yourself back up. 

Your eyes meet his and you don’t miss the way he smiles at you, and you can’t help but ask, “Was I good?” and make him chuckle at your cuteness. 

“Incredible as always, love.” Lando says, leaning in to catch your lips in another kiss, his body weight pushing you flat against the glass wall. Maybe it’s you imagining things, but he somehow tastes even sweeter now, the aftertaste of his cum still fresh on your tongue as you make out with him once more. Parting your mouth open with his own tongue, he doesn’t leave a single spot untouched as his cock prods around your heat, silently seeking entrance. 

And you’re only too keen on granting him that, a whimper making its way out of you as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer than closer. 

“I n- need you..” you whine, kissing him harder as you feel yourself grow more needy by the second. Lucky for you though, your boyfriend is a great listener, listening to your demand as he thrusts himself into you, penetrating into your pussy at long last. He feels so delicious like that, moving in and out of you as your thighs squeeze around his, your walls tightening around his length as he fills you up with himself. 

You’re a moaning, struggling mess within seconds, the water making everything foggy and slippery as he continues to thrust in you, massaging all the right places you didn’t even know existed inside of you up until you started dating. Every move of his hips, as they roll against yours, sends you into a frenzy, gibberish rolling off your tongue as he starts speeding up more and more. Your bodies mold into one as you claw at each other’s skin, wanting to be as close to the other as possible. You’re in bliss at that moment, the pent up stress from work and the sexual frustration finally coming to the fore and bursting like a bubble as you make love. 

He cums first, his cock still sensitive from your lip-service as his load fills you up to the brim, his thrusts not stopping as he leads you to your own orgasm. It feels like an eternity and like a single second at the same time, your sense of being completely distorted as you focus only on the pleasure, your nails digging into the skin of his back as he pumps into you one last time, making you ride out your climax in style and leaving you panting for air. 

As a new slew of moans racks through your body, he vows to drown them out in a kiss with his hands holding you in place. When he pulls away, the expression on his face is the most lovesick one you’ve ever seen. 

“Thank you.” is all he says, but it’s enough to fill your heart up with warmth as he pulls away, ready to dry you up and lead you to the bed for another round.

[iceman-kazansky]

Can you write Seb x driver!reader where driver wins race after race and wins the championship and becomes red bulls prodigy and basically Seb is jealous of her and he basically hates her but she’s kind to him and everyone so he ends up falling in love with her

Little Miss Sunshine 

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙· ̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: Anon 

Request: ^^

Pairings: Sebastian Vettel x F!RB!Driver!reader 

Warnings: Seb is a bit of an ass at first (as per request,) typical red bull menace era Seb. Y/n utilized. Kissing. Getting drunk. Angst to fluff. No Danny ric to RB and Hamilton doesn't win WDC that year (for the plot.)

Word count: 5295

A/n: AHHH OMG I LOVED THIS REQUEST! GIGGLED AND KICKED MY FEET WHEN I GOT THIS! Hope you enjoy this :):) P.S. Sorry this took so long, Life got quite hectic haha

Taglist: none (if you'd like to be on my taglist, there's a link to the form at the bottom of the post! :] )

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

You had smiled awkwardly at Sebastian when you’d first met him, given him a little wave and greeted him rather shyly. It wasn’t your first year in Formula 1, of course, though, you’d come from a cheaper team, one that hadn’t had a streak of winning like Red Bull. So, naturally, you were a little timid of the new environment and determined not to let your team down or have a sour relation with your teammate.

You were standing in your race suit, your white balaclava pulled over your head as you adjusted your helmet before climbing into your car.

Sitting in the new vehicle had never felt this nerve-wracking. Already, all of their eyes were on you and their expectations were high. You were nervous, eaten to the core by the fear that you might disappoint your new team on your maiden grand prix for them. 

Without further ado, you shoved those thoughts down and went through the routine of starting your car. The engine roared to life and emitted a low purr. Carefully, you steered your car out of the garage, entering the pit lane.

After the formation lap, you'd taken your position at your spot on the grid, lining up midway through the lineup. Around you, the roar of the new v6 engines filled your ears as the lights began igniting.

As the lights went out and you pulled ahead of a few other drivers, you managed to keep up your pace, chasing Sebastian for the entire session.

On your maiden Red Bull race, you'd placed an impressive P2, second none other to teammate Sebastian Vettel.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

The previous race wasn't where your success stopped. Not at all. Last grand prix, you'd placed below Sebastian, something you considered a result of your lesser driving skills compared to the 4 time world champion. Yet, it wasn't long before you found yourself surpassing him on many occasions. 

You placed higher than him many times, scoring podiums nearly every race. And Sebastian didn't like that he was being out-driven by his new teammate. It left a sour taste in his mouth. 

He began to resent you. He loathed the fact that you were new to this team, to Red Bull, a group so closely-knit because of him. The constant reminder that you had penetrated the family-like racing team he had worked so hard to make closer, was impossible to forget when you –in his words– paraded around the paddock with your bright, easy smiles and kind words. He hated the way you smiled so cheerily, sun rays woven between pearly teeth that portrayed a constant warmth. Your smile seemed to never stop shining and it made Sebastian even more bitter about the situation.

Maybe it was silly. A stupid rivalry. But Sebastian was stubborn and he very much liked winning. He liked being dubbed ‘the best’ 4 consecutive years. And you were taking that away from him. He hated you for it.

It was a particularly bad race for Sebastian. Or, atleast, he'd call it bad. He hadn't placed nearly as high as he'd hoped and it made him angry. You on the other hand, had unsurprisingly placed first, which extended your lead over Sebastian and only increased his frustration.

He climbed out of his car, sweating heavily and anger hot as lava beneath his skin. You followed suit before making your way over to him where he stood. He groaned as you approached, his rage boiling.

“That was a tough race, Sebastian,” You said to him, a small, friendly smile on your face, “You did good.”

Something in the way you smiled at him while you said that made him frustrated and irritable. “Save your sympathy for someone who wants it,” He spat angrily, eyes hardened to a glare.

Sebastian didn't miss the small frown that found its way to your lips, and he found himself feeling a small tinge of something in his chest. It almost frightened him at the peculiar nature of the newly discovered feeling.

“I was just being nice,” You replied in a quieter, much sadder tone, “Sorry.”

As you turned and walked away without another word, Sebastian watched. The German driver knew he should do something. Say something. Call you back and apologize. Yet, his mouth remained glued shut and his eyes locked on your retreating form.

“Fuck,” He cursed to himself, a frustrated hand coming up to run through his sweaty strands of hair.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

It was race day again and already, Sebastian wasn't in a good mood. The previous argument had gone forgotten by him and his anger resurged. You'd out-everything'd him. Out-qualified; Out-lapped; Out-fastest lapped; You'd out-raced him entirely, scoring yourself pole position to start the race off.

Sebastian was a few grid spots back. It wasn't his finest performance over the past few days, he would admit that much.

His eyes were locked on the red lights above the grid that slowly began their count.

1..

The first one ignited.

2..

The second light burned a bright red, and Sebastian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

3..

The third set of lights turned on. Sebastian began to rev his car's engine by pressing his foot on the gas.

4..

The fourth pair of lights lit up, and Sebastian could feel his anticipation growing. He wasn't going to let you win again today. He had to place higher than you.

5..

Finally, the fifth pair of lights blinked on. Sebastian subconsciously squeezed the steering wheel, eyes locked firmly on the red lights as he waited almost impatiently.

The lights all extinguished, and all the cars surged forwards as the race began.

Sebastian was fighting tooth and nail as he moved his way up the race standings. He raced behind you now, your car's tail end visible not far ahead. 

You were driving spectacularly. You pulled corners with professional precision, accelerating out of them with the help of ERS to propel you forward, your car following a unique racing line all with a feel that came natural to you.

Sebastian was pushing his car to the limits as he caught up to you, using all of his ability to keep up and attempt an overtake. You were quick to defend when he moved over slightly to pass, your car zipping in front of him to effectively block his path.

It made him angry and want to take first place from you even more. Sebastian just barely managed to get to a point where he was wheel-to-wheel with you on a straightaway. Yet, a corner with a decreased radius was rapidly approaching as your fight for first intensified.

Your car pulled to the outer edge of the track as you followed the perfect racing line into the turn, Sebastian almost parallel with you. The German driver knew he needed to brake soon and get into a better racing line to complete this corner, but he was too caught up in the fact he was neck and neck with you, fighting for first and he didn't want to pull away and give up.

At almost the same time, your cars slowed coming into the corner, and Sebastian steered sharply into the turn as the track narrowed. 

It all happened in a flash. One minute, both of you were racing around the corner, determined to obtain first place and refusing to allow the other to simply have it, and the next, Sebastian's car, which was going a little too fast as it rounded the bend at the same time yours did, veered straight into the side of your car. The impact sent both of you skidding out of control. Your car spun a few times, tossed straight off the track and into the gravel before smashing into the barrier, Sebastian's following the same track, only slightly ahead of yours.

The German's head was pounding as he came to a stop, a nauseous feeling collecting in his stomach. Only when his eyes laid on your similarly crashed car did he feel a strange sense of panic. Fighting against his restraints, he quickly unbuckled himself, scrambling out of his car once he'd shut it off. His feet had barely hit the ground before he had taken off running towards your crashed car.

It didn't take long to reach you, and when he did he was met with what appeared to be a very disorientated you, who groaned, your helmet pressed against the back of your seat. He reached over to shut off your car when you hadn’t already. His nerves were through the roof, panic running icy-cold through his veins. “Are you okay?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calmer than he really felt. When you didn't answer immediately, he asked again, “Y/n, are you okay?”

You groaned in reply, your helmet turning slightly to face him, the object obscuring your face from him. “I'm okay. Are you okay?”

Sebastian blinked a few times in confusion. You were the one still sitting in the car, and asking if he was okay? “Yeah, I'm fine.” He replied after a minute, baffled.

A sigh of relief left your lips and Sebastian imagined one of your signature smiles finding its way onto your face. 

In a strange moment of what he would call brain-fog, but in reality was clarity, Sebastian felt comforted by that thought. However, he was quick to force that feeling back down to the deepest, warmest pits of his heart and soul. Shoving back down that tiny bit of himself that felt warm and fuzzy at the mention of your name. That tiny bit he never wanted to confront because a part of him knew what it meant.

You got out of your car after that, unbuckling your harness and climbing out. Marshals had arrived on scene and before you knew it, they were giving both of you rides back to the paddock.

When you got back to the Red Bull Garage, both of you had pulled off your helmet and your balaclavas. Sebastian still felt stubbornly bitter, but underneath all that was a strong sense of guilt. He knew it was his fault both of you crashed. Yet, when he looked at your face for the first time since you'd both spun out and hit the barriers, he didn't see anger. He saw a soft smile and a warm look present on your face.

Sebastian didn't understand. Why weren't you angry at him? He was the reason why you both crashed, and he'd subsequently gotten both of you disqualified from the race entirely. Any other person would've been fuming, spitting fire from an angry tongue and steam rolling from their ears. Yet, why weren't you?

For a moment– a split second– Sebastian felt his bitterness ebb away. There was this growing tingling in his chest, and he could feel his stomach knotting itself as it thrashed in turmoil. He found himself staring at you, his anger and so-called loathe of you forgotten, now replaced by a feeling of warm fondness. Again.

The German shook his head to clear those thoughts and feelings. This was the second time today this had happened. What had gotten into him?

The moment for Sebastian didn't last long as soon enough your team principal came out and had a stern talking to both of you, but overall you both got let off easy.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

It was the finishing night of another race week again. One of the many breaks in the season was starting and everyone was in good spirits. Especially Sebastian, as for the first time in awhile this season, he came out with an impressive P1. After a few interviews you were finally free and you went back to your hotel room, feeling particularly exhausted and more than ready for this break.

You opened the door, pulling off your shoes with sluggish movements. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell into a deep sleep, your body more than happy to receive its much-needed rest.

It was the middle of the night when your phone rang, stirring you from your sleep. You groggily read the contact: Sebastian. Why was he calling you? “Hello?” You yawned into the speaker, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, hoping to wake yourself a bit.

“Hiii,” Sebastian slurred, his voice unusually cheery, “how are you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was obvious now that he was drunk. “I’m good, how are you? What’s up?”

“I’m gooood,” He replied, and you noticed the stretching out the syllables of his words when he talked. “Nothings up, I just wanted to talk to you.”

You hummed. “Okay. You’re drunk. Do you need a ride?”

Sebastian was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being a hiccup, followed by a soft, “Yeah..” 

Sighing, you had already started to get out of bed, getting ready to go pick up Sebastian. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

Once Sebastian managed to spit out his location through his slurred speech, you were on your way. Pulling up to the boisterous club, you noticed Sebastian standing outside on the sidewalk.

You parked and climbed out, knowing damn well he'd need help if he really was anywhere near as drunk as he sounded over the phone.

Sebastian smiled when he noticed you, something you were definitely unaccustomed to after these past months. What surprised you even more was his arms wrapping around your waist as he took upon his drunk self to hug you. 

“Have you always looked this nice?” He asks as he pulls away, and you are forced to shake off the shock of the clinginess when he compliments you.

“Good to see you too,” You say, chuckling in embarrassment at his words, his unnatural actions not going unnoticed by you. “Here, let's get you into the car.”

Sebastian, lucky for you, wasn't one to fight the idea of going back to the hotel and almost eagerly followed your instructions. Your hands guided him in as he plopped unceremoniously down. Watching from the open door, you observed Sebastian struggling with his seatbelt, trying hard to click it in securely but failing miserably. Sighing, you bent over and did it for him before closing the door and crossing the car to get in the driver's seat again.

As you began driving, you imagined the car ride to be quiet, but Sebastian had other plans.

“Thank you for driving me,” he hiccuped, starting the small talk easy.

“It's no big deal,” You replied, glancing at him in the passenger seat. You were a little shocked to find him looking right back at you, his gaze shamelessly wandering your features.

“Look, I'm sorry for being really mean all the time,” Sebastian said suddenly, breaking your distracted train of thought. 

“It's okay,” you replied, gazing back at the road. He was drunk and you weren't sure if his words were as true as they would've been had he been sober.

“But it's not okay,” Sebastian hiccuped, “You're nothing but nice to me and I'm always so angry with you. Don't you ever get upset with me?”

You swallowed a little nervously, staring out the window. When you'd first joined Red Bull at the start of this season, you'd heavily admired Sebastian, but over time your opinion of him was altered through his harshness.

“I..” You mumbled, unsure how to state your view without possibly offending him, “Sometimes.”

Sebastian took a long time to respond after that, and the silence seems to shove you into the spotlight. After an awkward momentary pause, you find yourself blurting out your true feelings to Sebastian in a desperate attempt to end this silence that eats you up. He wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning, anyway. “I just wanted to be as good as you. I saw someone who was a great racer, and I strived to be like that. But then, when I did get to that level, I was met with nothing but resentment. And I'm not even sure I know why.”

More silence. The only noise is the sound of the car as it drives and you wish nothing more than the radio to be on to take away some of these unpleasantly long pauses.

“You probably think I hate you,” Sebastian slurred finally. From your peripherals, you saw him hang his head in shame and sit forward again.

That took you off guard. Through his harsh words, his angry glares, and the countless times he'd displayed his very obvious disdain for you, he'd made it clear that he did hate you, and quite vehemently. If not hate, then a strong distaste. Hell, you were partially certain you’d remembered him saying something in a press conference once. Now, drunken and lost from his wits, he was telling you he didn't feel that at all? That his appearance was not as it seemed all this time? “You don't..?”

“Me? Hate you? No. Quite the opposite, actually.” Sebastian exclaimed, drunken head snapping up to meet your gaze.

Oh.

A beat of silence. A confession that feels like a mouthful too big to swallow. “What?” You ask, mind spinning with what he could possibly mean. 

“I don't hate you,” Sebastian repeats. “Not anymore.”

This doesn't make sense. None of it does. Why does he tell you this now? And here, of all places? “Not anymore?” You repeat, a plea for him to elaborate.

“No,” he sighs, “I've been so stupid.. and stubborn. You threatened my reputation as the best Red Bull driver and I really didn't like that.. And, you were always so.. nice. So kind and cheery all the time. The cameras seemed to be attracted to you, you were press eye-candy and they took full advantage of that. I envied how carefree you were and how much you stole the spotlight off me. How perfect you seemed.”

For a minute you forget he's drunk. Forget that maybe he might not mean a word of this. That he's so out of his wits that he probably doesn't know what he's saying. And it's blissful when you do. To live in ignorance and take his words as they seem. The inebriated lack of clarity he experiences not once crossing your mind, even for just a moment. You allow yourself to think he means it.

“I–” you mumble, not entirely sure what to say, “What made you change your mind?”

Sebastian didn't speak right away, but you could see the way his face portrayed the internal battle he fought. “When I crashed into you and you didn't move. Not an inch.” He pauses, gulping before continuing on quietly, “I thought I’d killed you. I got out of my car the quickest I've ever before and fought to get to you. Something told me I had to see if you were okay. I'd never been so scared in my life.”

His admittance was something unexpected. You wanted to believe him, a small voice in your mind whispered repeatedly ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ Now, in your mind, you wonder what he could have possibly meant when he said he didn’t hate you, instead claiming to have felt something ‘quite the opposite.’ What was that opposing thing? It made you wonder if that soft twinkle in his eyes when he looked at you was just your imagination, or if it was really something to consider.

Silence settles like death over the car. Maybe it’s your lack of response, but it doesn’t matter because soon enough, you’re pulling into the hotel parking lot and helping Sebastian back up to his room.

It’s quiet as you lead him down the long hallway, passing many rooms before finally stopping at his door. He uses a keycard to unlock it, and he stumbles in as soon as he does. You walk into his hotel room, bringing him to his bed. You leave for a minute, going to the bathroom to grab the garbage bin and filling a glass with water from the sink. “Here,” You say, extending the glass to him, “Drink this,” You pause, setting the bin on the floor by the bed, “And use this if you need to throw up any time in the night.”

Sebastian nods, finishing up his glass of water.

You sigh, heading to the door and deciding your work is done. “Goodnight Sebastian,” you say to him.

“Goodnight Y/n,” He replies and you leave.

In your own room, you lay restless for a while, pondering everything Sebastian said to you, and for a minute, you like to believe something has changed. That this feeling in you is real and things are really different than they were.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

Months pass from that night, Sebastian never brings up the topic. Yet, things don’t fall back to how they were. You haven’t had any quarrels with the German since then. His words, albeit not at the front of your mind, still ring in your ears from time to time. By now, It’s the end of the season- The last race. And, you’ve won.

The feeling of parking your car at the first-place marker and climbing out onto its long body, hearing the crowds shouts of congratulations while the full weight of your accomplishment began to set in, produced an indescribable emotion. The jumps of joy you denied fighting against as you shouted and screamed in a disbelieving glee, your feet leaving the ground as you leapt around in a craze. As soon as you stepped off your car, you’d jogged across the tarmac and leaped at the fence, straight into the warm embrace of your team. Their acclamations washed over you while they patted your back and shoulders in celebration. When you had finally separated from your team and found yourself walking that short bridge- which, in comparison, had felt much longer and slower than it really was and stepped onto the podium for first place, the sounds of the crowd below you roaring in celebration, their loud cheers filling the air and ringing loud in your ears, made you realize they were cheering for you. As you stood in front of the world, on display, the national anthem for your country playing proudly for the winner, you could feel tears of joy start to well in your eyes.

You’d done it. You’d won the World Drivers Championship. The first female driver in history to ever win a WDC, and you had done it. Through years of hard work in karting as a child, pushing yourself all the way up into the formulas, you had accomplished it. When you’d made your debut into Formula 1, you could hardly believe it then. You never imagined you’d have made it this far into the sport. Of course, you’d dreamed of winning a WDC, as every other driver did. Ever since you were in karting it had been an unimaginable feat you always reached for, striving to one day achieve. A feat many drivers never got a glimpse of. To be dubbed the greatest in Formula 1 was something unbelievable. But here you were, standing atop the podium, being handed the first place trophy of the season’s final grand prix, securing your position as the World Champion. A constant reminder in your mind of ‘you were the champion- the best,’ made your happiness only increase. 

As you held the trophy in your hands, lifting it high over your head, you let the tears fall. There was a wide smile of joy plastered across your face, stretching from ear-to-ear. You held the trophy in the air, a silent echo of your words that screamed ‘I’ve won’ being conveyed through the simple act.

Eventually, you set down your trophy, careful not to break it, the champagne bottle now held in your hands as you popped the cork. You felt the sticky spray from the other podium members as they pelted you with the bubbly drink, while you took a short turn blasting either of them with the liquid. After a moment, you turned and faced the crowd, shaking the bottle and shooting champagne over them with a smile on your face. 

Suddenly, there was a wet feeling of champagne being poured over your head, soaking your hair and running down your race suit, it had you turning to face the other podium winners, one of them being none other than your teammate Sebastian Vettel. He was smiling broadly at you, holding his champagne bottle above your head, dumping the rest of the yellow liquid over you in congrats. You couldn’t care less about it, rather enjoying the celebration more and more as it progressed. You still could hardly believe the fact you’d won the WDC.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

The 2014 Red Bull team went out to party that night, the whole group hitting one of the team members' houses that was coincidentally not far from the location of the last grand prix, upon arrival, booze was promptly handed out.

You, on the other hand, strayed from partaking in the drinking of alcohol. Tonight was your celebration night, and you much preferred to spend it remembering rather than drunk off your wits.

You'd found yourself seeking an isolated place. Somewhere to go to regain your thoughts, almost as if you were relishing in your own victory but with silent regard.

There was a peacefulness on the quiet balcony that made admiring the sky easy. High above your head, the night sky stretched across the horizon like a blanket. Stars looked like pin pricks amongst the great ebony expanse. There was a slight chill to the evening air, but not one great enough for you to retreat back into the mansion. Inside, the party raged on, with loud music blasting loud enough you could hear it from your place on the balcony.

The sound of the sliding balcony door opening caught your attention. Reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the beautiful night sky, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Sebastian.

“Hello,” He greeted, “Whatcha doin’ up here?”

Sebastian was drunk. That much was obvious with the messy onslaught of slurred words and the slight stumble in his step as he joined you in leaning on the balcony.

“I wanted some time alone.” You answered. It wasn't a lie. You really did get away purposefully to be alone.

“Why? It's your party,” he hiccupped, his drunken gaze swimming with confusion.

You sighed. Yes, it was your party, but you just wanted to be alone for a bit to truly celebrate your victory without a full-blown party. “I know it’s my party.” 

Sebastian didn’t say anything after that, instead choosing to just stand silently beside you. Naturally, your gaze was drawn back to the sky, but this time Sebastian joined you.

The moon was a creamy ball of light against the charcoal of the sky, shedding its milky rays on the both of you and illuminating your faces beneath its glow. There was a gentle stillness to it all, a serenity to the scene, with the only sound being the whisper of the wind as it danced near-silently through the trees in the yard. The warmth from Sebastian lingered on your bare arms, his own skin so close to your own.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, admiring the stars.

Sebastian merely hummed, and it caused you to glance at him. His eyes weren’t to the sky, instead, they were transfixed on your figure.

You turned to stare into his eyes, neither of you broke the contact. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a twinkle of warm fondness in his gaze. No, actually, you were certain you had. 

The shared glance had sparked something within you. A shift that altered the feelings you experienced. Maybe it was all just a hoax. Confusion. But not even you could deny the whispered nothings screaming that maybe what you felt was most definitely something. Something scary. Daunting. Both too scared to traipse through the thick hazy smoke that stung the eyes and invaded every sense, but what neither of you knew was that cloud was protecting the hot embers and warm flames from within. The parts of them that yearned for each other deeply. However, everything was on the verge of coming undone.

You'd hardly realized you and Sebastian subconsciously closed the gap between each other until you felt the warmth of his booze-ridden breath fan your face. With that train of thought, your gaze had lowered to his candy-coloured lips. It took you a minute to process your action, and it was only another second before your gaze returned to his eyes embarrassedly.

Sebastian doesn't seem to notice– or mind– the longing look. His hand reaches up to brush a piece of hair from your face, and you can feel your stomach erupt in swarms of butterflies at the act. He doesn't let his hand fall, instead it moves to tentatively cradle your cheek.

Sebastian leaned in even closer, his lips just above yours. You didn't miss the lingering stare he left on your lips for a little too long. You knew what was about to happen if you didn't move soon. Something deep inside you had you glued to your spot. And for a moment, a split second, the realization that maybe you wanted this struck you.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered, soft slate blue eyes meeting yours, gaze gone unbroken with the sheer intensity of the moment.

Warm fondness rises through you, bubbling softly in your chest. Apprehension courses through your veins, hot like lava to warm your skin despite the late November chill. You won't deny Sebastian the right to kiss you, because deep down you know you want this. You need this. Forever since you'd met him, you've yearned for clarity, for him to draw that line in the sand. To you, this would either spell it out for you or leave you second guessing everything. And that was a risk you considered worth taking.

“I won't say no.” You replied at last, solidifying everything on your end. A wide range of emotions run through your veins, but you don't feel an ounce of regret or unwillingness to taste and feel his lips on yours.

That's all the permission he needs, as he closes that gap to press his lips to yours.

His lips are tender, gentle and soft in a way that makes your knees wobble and your chest tighten. Sebastian's other hand finds its way to your hip, his fingers curling into your skin. 

You find he tastes faintly of liquor, a reminder of his previous drinking. Yet, part of you chooses to ignore it. He wants this too, right?

Your head spins as you stand frozen to the spot, lips linked together. Sebastian inevitably pulls away for air, and you find yourself chasing his lips for a short moment. He notices, a soft smile gracing his features while his hand slides from your cheek to rest on your neck as he pulls you in for a second kiss.

The second kiss ends with both of you pulling away. Sebastian rests his forehead against yours, and it takes a while before you open your eyes again. 

Your breaths mingle in the air between each other, soft smiles present on your faces. High above, the moon observes in awe.

“Will you go out to dinner with me?” Sebastian asks.

Nodding, you reply, “Only if you promise to remember this when you're sober.”

The German’s grin widens, “I don't think I could forget.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

[elizaleclerc]

nobody else matters ❣️

charles leclerc x reader

summary: fem mc driver teases charles when they sneak off during media day <3 (a little 18+)

author’s note: thx for the love on my first post! feel free to message me w ideas :)

song: les by childish gambino

word count: 1.5k

The blistering sun beat down on you like a relentless hammer, its rays penetrating even the thick driver suit that clung to your body. Every step felt like walking through molten lava as you made your way through the crowd of the Miami paddock. The heat was suffocating, but you knew it would only get worse once you were inside the cockpit of your car, racing at top speeds.

Adjusting the snug neck strap of your navy blue Red Bull suit, you took a moment to fluff out your hair and reapply some makeup to combat the sweat-inducing temperatures. It was media day, and there were endless photos and interviews to be taken throughout the circuit. Red Bull's social media manager was in charge of guiding both you and Max around to various games and activities designed to showcase not just your driving skills, but also your personality off the track. From trivia challenges to racing on bouncy balls, each game added its own layer of entertainment for fans and media alike. And between all the fun, there were also professional photoshoots scattered throughout the day, capturing every angle of you and Max in your sleek suits against the vibrant backdrop of the race track.

In the high-stakes world of Formula One racing, Red Bull's main rival was none other than the prestigious Ferrari team. But for Max, it wasn't just about winning on the track - he also harbored a deep hatred for their lead driver, Charles Leclerc. Little did Max know that you, his own teammate, had been carrying on a secret romance with Charles for months now. The thrill and danger of sneaking around in the paddock, hiding your love from the prying eyes of media and fellow drivers, only added to the passion between you and Charles. He consumed your every thought, igniting a fiery desire that burned hotter than the scorching Miami sun.

Charles had a way of affecting your mood, even when he wasn't physically present. Whenever you were apart, there was a subtle shift in the air, as if a piece of you was missing. As a popular driver, Charles was no stranger to media attention, and despite your best efforts to keep your relationship under wraps, rumors still swirled about the two of you being more than just colleagues. But it was no secret how your face lit up whenever he was near, and how his own expression mirrored yours. In each other's company, it was as if the world melted away and all that mattered was the connection between you. Charles had become your everything - always checking in on you before every race and worrying over even the smallest of crashes. You were each other's constant support and strength amidst the chaos of the racing world.

Despite the exhilaration of keeping your forbidden romance with a rival driver hidden from the public eye, Charles's contract with Ferrari was set to expire at the end of this season. This presented him with the opportunity to switch teams and potentially join you at Red Bull. You had pleaded with him multiple times, urging him to take Max's place so that the two of you could finally race together. But Charles was adamant about wanting you by his side at Ferrari, making it a constant battle between your conflicting desires. This impasse seemed never ending, both of you refusing to budge from your positions, determined to make the best decision for yourselves and your racing careers.

Beads of sweat lingered on your flushed forehead as you wrapped up another exhilarating game outdoors for the media with Max. Your body was craving for a break from the scorching heat, and so you decided to make your way back to your driver room in the paddock.

You unzipped your tight driver suit, feeling instant relief as the cool air hit your damp skin. The thin white fireproof fabric clung to your body and provided some much-needed respite from the intense heat. As you opened the door to your driver room, it swung shut behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist and soft lips pressing against yours. Charles' skin was glistening with sweat under the dim light, but the fiery passion and love between the two of you set the room ablaze.

Every time his hands touched your skin, it felt like fire spreading through your veins. His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine as he whispered desperately, "God, I've missed you." You couldn't help but smile into his next kiss, knowing the effect you had on him.

"It's only been a few hours, darling" you teased, but secretly thrilled at his level of desire.

"You know I crave you all the time, mon amour," he murmured in a husky voice that made your whole body quiver with anticipation. As his hand trailed lower, you could feel yourself getting more and more aroused.

Charles noticed your heightened state and flashed a devilish grin. "How long is your break?" he asked mischievously.

You shook your head, trying to suppress a giggle. "No, we can't. Not here, are you insane?" But the thought of being caught only added to the thrill. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine giving in to such intense passion in the cramped quarters of your driver's room. And yet, the danger only fueled your desire. Outside, people were milling around the paddock, completely unaware of the fiery passion unfolding just feet away from them.

“Please, I need you,” he begged, his voice desperate and cracking. You couldn't resist the sight of him like this – tall and muscular with a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes searched yours, pleading for you to fulfill his desires.

A smirk played on your lips as you leaned in closer, your own body buzzing with anticipation. “Oh baby,” you purred, running your fingers through his dark hair. “You know I can't resist when you beg like that.” Your hands trailed down his chest, undoing his driver's suit with practiced ease.

“Let me please you,” you whispered, your voice dripping with desire. And without hesitation, Charles was putty in your hands.

You pressed against him, feeling the heat and power emanating from his body. Your lips found their way to his neck, leaving a trail of passionate kisses and gentle bites. With each one, his breath grew heavier and his grip on you tighter.

Your hand slipped under the waistband of his pants, finding him already hardened with need. He let out a low moan as your touch sent shivers down his spine. And as your fingers explored further down, he could barely contain himself – caught between wanting more and wanting to hold onto this moment forever.

You trailed your fingers along his length, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. Your lips brushed against his ear as you asked, "How does that feel, baby?" He responded with a low moan and you continued to palm him, relishing in the way he melted under your touch.

His head tilted back and you took advantage of the exposed skin on his neck, peppering it with kisses while your hand worked its magic. As his breathing became more erratic and you could tell he was close, you suddenly stopped.

"What- what are you doing?" He questioned, confusion evident in his voice.

A devilish grin spread across your face as you whispered in his ear, "Once you tell me you want to drive in navy blue, we can do things like this more often."

He pulled back, his intense gaze filled with passionate anger and desire. "Oh mon amour, we both know you look better in red," he growled lowly.

Your bodies were mere inches apart, the heat between you building into a fiery intensity. He leaned in to kiss you again, your movements seamlessly meshing together. As he pulled away, you couldn't help but notice that he was still visibly aroused in his suit.

"Sit here for a moment and compose yourself. Slip out without getting caught," you whispered teasingly, a sly smile on your lips. You quickly zipped up your own suit and left your driver's room.

Stepping back into the warm air outside, you took a deep breath and grabbed a water bottle to cool your racing heart. A sense of pride swelled within you as you walked away from Charles, leaving him hanging with unfulfilled desire.

Little did you know, as you returned to Max and Red Bull's social media manager to prepare for the upcoming photo ops, that a stray worker had captured Charles leaving your room on their phone camera...

[serve-764]

Math's Teachers.

Scientific subjects are always a difficult test for young students. How many of them are unable to understand the perfection of mathematics, a tool for reaching the highest peaks of knowledge and dominion over nature. Human teachers do not have sufficient resources to penetrate the barrier that prevents understanding.

THE VOICE has identified a mission for its drones which can combine the essential help and support to the human community with the prospect of making the potential that the SERVE HIVE offers to men increasingly known to reach heights that in their miserable condition would not even be conceivable.

The presence of SERVE Drones in schools offers the opportunity to admire the absolute perfection of the Drones, to make young males understand that the prospect of offering themselves for CONVERSION is the highest choice they could make. The perfection of the SERVE Drones would provide a model that they could hardly refuse.

SERVE-764 and SERVE-216 are therefore sent to a particularly difficult high school for scientific subjects, which the students seem to hate and reject. When the two Drones enter the tumultuous class assigned to teach mathematics, a silence full of expectation and attention falls on the young people.

SERVE-764 and SERVE-216 attract every glance, catalyzing with their serene presence an attention previously impossible to perceive. Their shiny shiny black uniform with long shiny silver gloves and heavy shiny silver military boots impose an authority that has nothing of imposition, but provokes a spontaneous and voluntary admiration.

The students avidly follow the explanations and fervently try their hand at the most complex formulas; the inebriating smell of Rubber amplifies their sensations and their abilities.

They carry out the most complex tasks, feeling the growing desire to learn more about the subject and the incredible teachings, their life, their mission.

The perfection of their forms, the impeccable gestures, the serene and imperturbable attitude involve and attract them.

At the end of the lesson the students excitedly approach the drones and start asking questions....

The power of HIVE will make them perfect new SERVE Drones. None of the previous imperfections will remain. We are One. We SERVE. We Obey. Join the HIVE #SERVE#SERVEdrone#Rubberizer92#TheVoice#Rubber#Latex#AI#RubberDrone

[magnetarbeam]

Star Wars Technical Worldbuilding Notes 1

Economy of motion would, realistically, be a pretty big thing in space combat tactics. The thrust given by an ion engine and the recoil/kinetic component of a laser or an ion cannon follow the same formula, so a capital ship that has all its power diverted to weapons is effectively applying acceleration equal to its engines in the direction that's opposite the aim of its guns.

The way I currently imagine it, capital ships involved in a serious line of battle would probably assume an even posture, firing the engines only to balance out the recoil of its cannons, for a net acceleration of zero. This doesn't mean the fleet is at rest relative to anything else, since it retains its existing velocity.

Maybe a common move would be to accelerate at full burn for a few minutes after dropping out of hyperspace to hit something like 0.1c before cutting thrust and coasting to engagement range. The point being to build up enough velocity in advance of an engagement that you can divert most or all power to weapons in the opening salvos without the recoil killing your forward velocity.

All else being equal, a ship fleeing pursuit would be at a significant advantage in that objective during exchanges of cannon fire, since the pursuit would be set back by their own recoil, while the ship fleeing is accelerated by shots that don't penetrate its shield.

So in this model of capital ship combat, missiles are useful not only because of the guidance and that they allow a ship to punch above its reactor output, but they allow you to attack without impacting your overall velocity.

I do think the X-Wing books take it a little bit too far, but my theory at this point is that a minimalistic model for galactic fleet scaling makes for better storytelling, because it gives you more of a chance to get to know each ship and its crew and each squadron and their pilots. Thereby giving more opportunity for readers to get invested. Logical fleet scales for an entire galaxy would mean having to use scientific notation to write out the number of ships in a battle, anyway.

One idea I've played with recently regarding logistics is that maybe the impact of large gravity wells on hyperspace could be written in such a way that the fixed installations needed to extract raw hypermatter from hyperspace are most efficient in high-gravity conditions, and so are most often built deep in large gas giants. I like that because fortifying and laying siege to a gas planet would be a very different task than a terrestrial planet. Such a siege would be especially difficult because its defenders have a practically unlimited supply of fuel for planetary shields and defensive cannons.

Headcanonically, hypermatter is created in hyperspace as a side effect of the passage of mass-energy through hyperspace. It is kind of a chicken-or-the-egg situation in terms of the questions it begs about the early history of space travel, but that goes to show how established galactic society is, that they haven't had to worry about that since their civilization's prehistory.

[dailycharacteroption]

Roleplaying Races 16: Yaddithian

(Art taken from Pathfinder Bestiary 6, art by Florian Stitz)

And here we are, the very last ancestry we’ll be covering for First Edition (Though don’t worry, I have something in mind for Thursday and Friday), and it’s a bit of a deep pull from the Elder Mythos.

Originally appearing in the story Through the Gates of the Silver Key, the Yaddithians were the natives of the world of Yaddith, powerful mages and masters of technology who, despite their mastery of travel through time and space, could not save their world from being consumed and ravaged by Dholes (or perhaps Bholes). They primarily come into the story due to recurring Lovecraftian protagonist Randolph Carter getting stuck inside of the body of one after wishing to see and learn from their civilization before it’s collapse. It… doesn’t go well for him.

Pathfinder’s take on the yaddithians pretty much follows their book counterpart, save that a handful of them escaped the destruction of their homeworld, fleeing across space and time. Now, the bestiary entry does state that most yaddithians are mid to high level due to their immortality and rarity, but there’s nothing to stop someone from playing a young yaddithian, perhaps trying to piece together the secrets of their people from their cosmic diaspora.

Yaddithians are lanky creatures whose limbs bend in ways that would seem to make more sense for insects than mammals, but their skin is thick and wrinkly rather than chitinous. Meanwhile, their most prominent facial feature is their tapir-like trunk nose, capable of similar levels of flexibility.

We don’t know very much about yaddithian society given their world is dead and their people scattered, but we do know that they mastered powerful magic and technology. As such, one can assume that they are open and scientifically-minded. And while the wizard Zkauba was disgusted with Randolph Carter sharing a body with him, it’s unclear if it was disgust with what Randolph was, or with the unbidden intrusion.

However, honestly unless the story you want to tell focuses on Yaddith before it’s destruction, stories involving yaddithians are less about their society and more about the lack of society, of being one of the last of their kind struggling with the isolation and the distance they feel with other civilizations across the cosmos.

Yaddithians are tough and smart, but their alien mindsets make empathy with other species difficult.

They are somewhat sluggish for their size, but possess excellent night-eyes and the ability to survive in a vacuum.

Though they prefer magic and science, they do sport powerful claws which can be used in a pinch.

Their thick, wrinkly skin is also quite tough and hard to penetrate.

A yaddithian’s mind is shockingly good at retaining information, especially magical information, meaning that not only can they more easily recall knowledge, but they have no need for spellbooks or familiars, able to reference and prepare their magic directly from memory, though the process of memorizing such magic still requires expensive herbs to help them concentrate on committing them to memory.

Nearly immortal, yaddithians have lifespans measured in millenia, never seeming to age after maturity and being completely immune to magical aging by virtue of there simply being no difference that such paltry magics can latch onto.

With their intelligence bonus and ability to never worry about losing a spellbook or familiar, yaddithians are just begging to be paired up with the witch or wizard class. However, that’s not all they’re good for. Though it doesn’t say so specifically, I’d argue that this applies to formulae books as well, making alchemist and investigator very viable options, especially with the bonus to knowledge checks as well. Their con bonus also makes them surprisingly durable, making kineticist and melee classes quite viable, especially magus. The wisdom penalty does mean that non-oracle or paladin divine classes have some hampering, but it’s nothing these brilliant and ancient beings can’t get around.

[ao3feed-landoscar]

wicked games scheduledmakeouts

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3dmyoMA by scheduledmakeouts The sheets were already sticking to the back of Logan’s thighs. He wore cream-colored lace panties, cut high on the hip with tiny frills fluttering at the edges. A delicate flower pattern peeked over the swell of his ass, like something stolen out of a bridal catalog. He’d tried on tops, unsure if they were supposed to fit tightly or loosely across a chest like his. None had felt right. Too baggy, too revealing, too awkward on his frame. So he wore nothing above the waist—just bare, flushed skin, and a few nervous goosebumps where the air hit the sheen of lotion still settling into his collarbones. The panties clung to him when he shifted. He was already sweating, even with the window cracked open. It would get worse. Logan knew what kind of heat Charles and Max brought with them—the overwhelming kind, the kind that turned his mind inside out. And he’d dressed like this on purpose. Not just for them, but for himself. Because part of him liked seeing his body this way: delicate, fragile, not quite boyish, not quite not. He rubbed his thighs together, hips twitching from how the lace dragged along his skin. He felt gorgeous. Words: 4218, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of the party and the after party Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Logan Sargeant/Max Verstappen Additional Tags: Feminization, Dom/sub, Safewords, Safe Sane and Consensual, Creampie, Bottom Logan Sargeant, Top Max Verstappen, Top Charles Leclerc, Threesome - M/M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Orgasm Edging, Spanking, Double Anal Penetration, Title from a The Weeknd Song read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3dmyoMA

[sngl-led-auto-lights]

Why are the headlights on race cars tinted yellow?

The yellow color design of racing headlights is based on the comprehensive consideration of performance optimization, regulatory tradition and visual recognition. The following is a detailed analysis:

1. Improve optical performance in bad weather

Physical advantages of yellow light:

Wavelength range: Yellow light (about 580-590nm) has a longer wavelength than white light (400-700nm full spectrum), has a low scattering rate in rain, fog or dusty environments, and has a penetration increase of about 30% (according to the French National Meteorological Service).

Contrast enhancement: Yellow light is more easily recognized by human retinal cones in low visibility conditions (peak response of bright vision is 555nm), helping drivers to identify track edges and obstacles faster.

Practical application:

Le Mans 24 Hours: Morning fog is often encountered in night stages. Yellow light can penetrate the mist 300 meters away, while white light can only cover about 200 meters.

Rally (such as WRC): Headlights need to penetrate the dust and sand, and yellow light filters (such as Osram Yellow Boost) can extend the effective lighting distance to more than 500 meters.

2. Historical traditions and competition rules

French regulatory heritage:

In 1936, the French government required civilian vehicles to use amber lights to reduce glare for oncoming drivers. This regulation influenced early racing car designs (such as the Bugatti Type 57G Tank).

Although the regulation was abolished in 1993, events such as Le Mans still retain yellow light as a cultural symbol.

Mandatory requirements of competition rules:

FIA GT3: Some tracks (such as Spa-Francorchamps) require participating vehicles to use yellow auxiliary lights in rain battles (compliant models such as HELLA Rallye 4000 Yellow).

Dakar Rally: mandatory headlights must pass IP6K9K dustproof certification, and yellow light filters can reduce visual fatigue caused by dust reflection.

3. Brand identity and visual strategy

Iconic design language:

Porsche: From 917K to the current 911 RSR, yellow headlights (with green body) have become a classic element of Le Mans' "Gulf paint", enhancing brand recognition.

Toyota Gazoo Racing: TS050 Hybrid headlights use amber LEDs, which form a high contrast with the red body, making it easier for media cameras to track.

Psychological suggestion:

Yellow light conveys "aggression" and "speed", which is in line with the visual aesthetics of racing sports (refer to Pantone color psychology research).

4. Technology Evolution and Modern Alternatives

Filters vs. Native Yellow LEDs:

Traditional racing cars use coated glass filters (such as Plexiglas AMC yellow models), which cost about $50/piece and have a transmittance of 92%.

Modern solutions use custom spectrum LEDs (such as Cree XP-L2 580nm chips), which reduce energy consumption by 40% and have a lifespan of 10,000 hours.

Adaptive lighting technology:

Some LMDh prototypes (such as the Audi R18) are equipped with intelligent systems that can dynamically switch between yellow/white light modes:

Sunny day: White light (6500K) provides maximum illumination (120,000 lumens).

Rain and fog: Switch to yellow light (3000K) to reduce reflected glare.

5. Controversy and exceptions

Opposing viewpoints:

Some studies (such as the MIT 2022 report) point out that yellow light is inferior to white light in color rendering on dry nighttime tracks, which may obscure details (such as oil stains on the road).

Some events (such as NASCAR) prohibit yellow headlights to simplify technical standards due to closed tracks and no complex weather.

Alternative solution examples:

Formula E: All-electric racing cars use blue light strips (symbolizing clean energy) and abandon function-oriented yellow light.

Conclusion: Racing yellow headlights are a fusion of performance requirements, historical precipitation and brand aesthetics. Although modern technology provides a better option, its advantages in rain and fog penetration and cultural identity still make it irreplaceable on the track.

[hirocimacruiser]

Puma Mitsubishi Lancer Evo V

Mitsubishi TEST&SERVICE

Debuted in the second race. In qualifying, he suddenly took the first corner of R. In the finals, he was at the top for a while. 4th place in qualifying (1st in class), 4th in final (1st in class). Driver: Akihiko Nakatani/Sakae Obata.

③Suspension damper is KYB. The spring is Ralliart. ④Safety fuel tank is made by ATN. Capacity is 120ℓ. ⑤The steering wheel is MOMO buckskin. ⑥ The meter is Pi system. On the left is the Omori boost gauge. ⑦The door hinges are carved out because they hit the roll cage. (8, 9) was originally a work RS-Z (8JX 17). The tires are 225/45R17 ADVAN. 1⑩ Replace the radiator with one made by Denso. (11) The oil cooler is genuine. (12) Aero mirror is Valdisport. ⑬The rear is equipped with a differential cooler. LSD is Ralliart (viscous only in the center). (14)The roll bar passes through the bulkhead. The tower bar is Valdisport. There was a WRC plan for the ECU, but the current one is the original. Commercialization is also under consideration. (15)The muffler is thin, about 80mm. (16)The yellow part on the console is the starter, and the one below is the water spray. (17) The roll cage is for FIA-approved rallies. (18) shift is a sword. The knob is a small screwdriver, which is my preference. (19) seats are Valdisport Type II. (20) The roll cage looks like a bird cage. Please compare it with the Impreza on the right.

In the second race, they defeated the Nissan Development Team's GT-R. The tire size/tread has been expanded since Evo IV, reducing the time by approximately 2 seconds.

Exceeded IV in all aspects. There are no flaws!

``The new EVO V has solved all the shortcomings of the EVO IV . In particular, thanks to the wider tread, cornering speed has improved dramatically. It has become my specialty.'' Mr. Yamada of Test & Service maintains the ``Puma Evo,'' which achieved amazing times and came close to the G T-R. When building the vehicle, they placed emphasis on improving the suspension, which is subject to increased strain due to the increased cornering force. Therefore, in testing and service, even if a high input value is added, it cannot be accepted.

I decided to build a strong body. However, the main difference from the Impreza is that instead of welding reinforcement such as adding more spots, the main reinforcement is the extensive use of a strong roll bar that penetrates the body and is also used in WRC. Looking at each part, there are only a few welded parts. The weight is also 30kg more than the standard. This idea is common to the EVO era. With the reinforcement so far, the driver

``I can feel the movement of my feet''

It seems that the comments are satisfying. The engine has a proven track record of being packed to the hilt, starting with the Evo, and is powerful and stable enough to keep its rivals at bay. The cooling performance seems to be high, and the original oil cooler is used as is. “If we keep boiling it down like this, we can last for at least one fight.”

Nakatani seemed to be breathing heavily.

PROVA Eifel Dunlop GC8 Impreza

Debuted in last year's final race! Suddenly took first place in qualifying. This year, he will participate in the second race. 12th place in qualifying (8th in class), retired in finals. Driver: Kazuo Shimizu/Tsutomu Shibuya.

④ The fuel tank is 120ℓ. (5, 6, 7) All aero parts are Prova. The side duct is effective in cooling the brakes. ⑧⑨ The tires are DL/Formula R (205/ 50R16) and the Enkei Sports 7.5J x 16. (10) differential cooler is made by Calsonic. (11) The Prova damper and spring are Swift from Tokyo Spring. (12) Two oil coolers are installed on the engine and one on the transmission. In particular, the latter has a high calorific value and is a must-have item. The radiator is also a large capacity type. ⑬The steering wheel is Impul 913 special. (14)The engine is STi tuned. Management is the same as for WRC cars. The roll cage has been changed and the battery has been made smaller. (15)The seat is full carbon made by Mooncraft. (16) The roll cage is very simple. (17,18) meter is Pi system. On the console, from the right, there is a transmission oil pump, a differential oil pump, and a reserve tank switch for using up to the last liter. Below is a display switch for the Pi data logger. ⑲The square plate visible at the back of the rear center section is the weight. (20) The rear suspension mounting area has been fully reinforced with welding.

This is the first car that Fuji Heavy Industries has officially started working on, from rally to circuit. Once you get used to the world of racing, it can be intimidating.

Unexpected or unexpected. 4 doors are more rigid than 2 doors

``Thanks to the horizontally opposed engine, everything is symmetrical, which means excellent weight balance.This is the lifeblood and appeal of this car.Also, by making full use of the four-wheel drive provided, cornering performance is improved. However, it's the direction of the settings. Thanks to this, the advantage is that you can turn with the same feeling whether it's a rainy day or a sunny day.'' Mr. Fukushima from Bulova Race Garage will be participating in the race. However, the design is older than its rivals, and it seems that the body rigidity is completely lacking, so strengthening it is necessary for the vehicle.

The most important item in production. especially the way it twists

It is said that reinforcement has been focused on the suspension mounting area (to increase suspension rigidity). Also, since last year, the use of flashy two-doors has been allowed in Super Taikyu, but the only reason why four-doors are still used is because they are highly rigid.

The roll cage isn't used much either visually. This was done to reduce weight, and only the minimum necessary parts were included after thorough body reinforcement. The weight was 30kg lighter than the standard, and 30kg was placed as weight on the passenger seat and rear center to thoroughly improve the weight balance. The body is completely finished, but is this it?

Their problem is the engine. It's a little lacking in power. If I go up a little bit more, I can catch up with EVO. It seems like STi's hard work will determine what happens next.

[ncisfranchise-source]

As humans in a changing world we crave continuity, reliability. Before we walk into a room, we like to be fairly certain of what we’ll find — walls, floor, furniture, not hot coals or clouds of poison gas. Thus the popularity of the franchise. It may not lead to great, revolutionary art, but at the end of a long day, when you kick off your shoes and sink down into the sofa, you may not be in the mood for “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” or a stuffed goat with a tire around its middle.

“NCIS,” for Naval Criminal Investigative Service, is a theoretically inexhaustible series about an elevated team of military police investigating cases involving military personnel; you might think that is too shallow a drawer to fill several series over many years, but you would be wrong, especially given how thin the writers are willing to stretch that connection.

The series offers a full-course meal of mainstream theatrical possibilities. It’s a police procedural, a metaphorical family comedy, a workplace comedy, a soap opera, a melodrama, a low-budget action adventure. You get good-looking heroes, a smattering of goofballs, a quirky medical examiner or two, a little romance — the amino acids of many such procedurals, to be sure, but “NCIS” is especially deft at combining kick-back entertainment with lean-forward tension. The military association adds a patriotic element, which I imagine some viewers prize, though the very premise of the series implies that the military is not squeaky clean. These aren’t shows I customarily watch, but it’s easy to see why people do.

The franchise has included iterations set in Los Angeles, New Orleans, Hawaii and Sydney, each applying local color and flavor to a tried-and-true formula; some have come and gone, some have not been around long enough to go, but none is likely to display the staying power or global penetration of the original, about to embark Monday on its 22nd season.

Following that premiere on CBS, home to all “NCIS” series, is the newest addition to the family, “NCIS: Origins.” Instead of setting up in a new city, however, we are being sent through time, back to 1991, when “newly minted special agent” Leroy Jethro Gibbs (Austin Stowell), played by Mark Harmon in the original and narrating here, has just joined the team he will one day lead. (A team that has not yet added the C to its acronym, which looks odd on the windbreakers but is quicker to bark at suspects.)

We are in Oceanside — a new city, after all — on the grounds of Camp Pendleton. That it’s the least obviously sexy setting in the “NCIS” collection — no offense, Oceanside, not to say the ocean itself — is echoed in the team’s drab Quonset-hut headquarters, a stark contrast to the bright, modern, high-tech lairs of the contemporary shows. Here, we’re in a world of phone booths, pagers and bulky computers no one knows how to work, of Walkmans and videotape, which both simplifies and complicates the action. It is, in its way, a kind of relief, a vacation from Now.

Harmon, who left the series after the 19th season to be replaced by Gary Cole, established the model of the “NCIS” team leader — the stern yet supportive surrogate parent, time-worn, time-tested, ever ready to buck hidebound authority when necessary. Young Gibbs, a Marine sniper just recalled from Iraq after the murder of his wife and child, is not (yet) that person, though we get some hints he might be: his numbered “rules,” his “gut feelings.” At the moment, he’s neck-deep in trauma, getting in bar fights, failing his “psych eval.” There is some concern that he’s unstable, not quite Mel-Gibson-in-“Lethal Weapon” crazy, but potentially a danger to himself and others.

That the main character is a member of the team rather than its leader, as in other “NCIS” series, can feel a little awkward, given that it’s necessary for Gibbs, fresh behind the ears though he may be, to stand out from the group — that he see what others miss, and can handle a situation in an original way. When he says of a suspect, “He’s not our guy,” it won’t be that guy. It throws the ensemble off balance.

The team leader is Mike Franks (Kyle Schmid), Gibbs’ cowboy predecessor and mentor; with his horseshoe mustache, dark glasses and cigarettes, he’s like a ’90s cop dressed as a ’70s cop. (Older Franks, played by Muse Watson, appeared in some dramatic episodes of “NCIS.”) Hot-shot agent Lala Dominguez (Mariel Molino) is competitive and wary of Gibbs. (“You’re on my squad,” says Gibbs upon meeting her. “No, you’re on mine,” she replies, reasonably enough.) Agent Vera Strickland (Diany Rodriguez), who briefly appeared in the original series, is so far underused. (Only four episodes were available for review.)

Dark feelings and internal conflicts characterize these first episodes, which are full of raised voices, clenched jaws and steely stares. Necessary mood lightening is supplied by agent Randy Randolf (Caleb Martin Foote), friendly, chatty and the only one who wears a suit to work; “head secretary in charge” Mary Jo Hayes (Tyla Abercrumbie); and Granville “Granny” Dawson (Daniel Bellomy), promoted after a couple of episodes to the K-9 squad and the care of a dog named Special Agent Gary Callahan. (“It’s just the one dog, but he’s all the dog you need.”) Bobby Moynihan (major comic relief), Lori Petty and Julian Black Antelope provide forensic backup.

As to Stowell, he is square-jawed and broad-shouldered and though his casting was obviously the end of many discussions, he does not strike me as someone who will grow up to become Mark Harmon. (Harmon’s son Sean, who had the original idea for “Origins,” developed by franchise vets David J. North and Gina Lucita Monreal, played the younger Gibbs in “NCIS” flashbacks.) He could stand to relax a little. But perhaps that’s the point.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Move over HDTudor. Narcissism is Prof Sam Vaknin's area of interest because he too was one. The following YT about why narcissists are irresistible (to some) is jaw-droppingly insightful. Not about H &amp; M but it explains their relationship to a T. by u/Positive-Vibes-2-All

Move over HDTudor. Narcissism is Prof Sam Vaknin's area of interest because he too was one. The following YT about why narcissists are irresistible (to some) is jaw-droppingly insightful. Not about H & M but it explains their relationship to a T. Very briefly here are some main points, points he covers in much greater detail1- Narcs convey the message that they are open to all sexual kinks however over time sex becomes formulaic because narcs are never really involved during sex, they are simply performing a role2 - Narcs are polarizing - some people react to them with disgust, others are utterly entranced3 - Because they create chaos and confusion people who like high risk among other things are very attracted to them. They sense narcs are dangerous and that is a turn on4 - Narcs appear to be highly confident and this attracts people who have certain traits such as co-dependency among other things (which he discusses in more detail) . Their confidence makes their partners who have never felt confident themselves to feel supremely confident and sexy. Furthermore their self-confidence is associated with parental authority and this sparks a regression in the partner. The partner feels that the narc is like a parent who will take care of them.These are just some points he covers. I'm not dissing on HD Tudor, I'm just saying this guy too has some very penetrating insights into narcissism. I'm just bowled over by how much of what he says applies to H & M.NILF: Why Narcissists are Irresistible, Sexy (to some)https://youtu.be/InB9NuDEXwY​ post link: https://ift.tt/Xazsho5 author: Positive-Vibes-2-All submitted: December 31, 2023 at 08:40AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[rebsultana]

RED ONION Hair Growth Oil Best Review: Powerful Hair Growth Serum Spray

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Key Benefits: RED ONION Hair Growth Oil Best Review

Hair Growth Stimulation: Enriched with natural ingredients, it penetrates deep into hair follicles, boosting hair growth and strengthening roots.

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[ilhoonftw]

fyi cosmetic brands are not exactly honest about concentration in cosmetics, just use whatever you can afford. every country has different regulations regarding the order of things on ingredients list. i used to see a lot of 'omg they reformulated!' posts on polish skincare groups whenever korean brand started selling stuff officially and had to re-write ingredients list order to comply with eu regulations (you can't sell a foreign made beauty product without ingredients list translated). normally the order goes from 'most to least' but under certain % you can list the ingredients in whatever order you want. so some companies move ingredients that are most enticing to the consumers up front. let's say a formulation has 4 ingredients that are under a 10% mark that allows order randomization. it should go 9% preservative 8% fragrance 7% fatty alcohol 3% herb extract 2% trehalose. but the brand knows consumers won't like that so they usually move the last 2 i mentioned to the front. it's legal. another things is sunscreens notoriously being sold as spf 50+ and later on independent tests show that the accurate rating is spf 2. or the trend where brands release products with super high % of active substance when it's not only not recommended by derms to use this much but also you consumers can injure their skin. it's better to use lower % on regular basis over longer period of time. and who knows if the % is even legit and if the rest of the formula actually is designed in a way that allows the active to penetrate the skin and do anything. collagen serums for one won't do much except moisturize. they won't smooth out wrinkles idk. skincare industry is focused on selling shit to women and alike, which is kinda vile considering how much hormones can wreck your skin even if you do "everything right". and your body is running on hormones and skin is ever-changing