#however Oscar moves me on occasion

[maxpadelchampion]

people wondering why ferrari fans hate mclaren when they are the original rivals of the sport 😭 literally ferrari and mclaren used to hate each other so bad like this is nothing… we need to go back to our ROOTS

[adventuringblind]

Can I request Lando x Sainz! reader, Maybe she is younger than him and she was previously dating Charles but always being bff with Lando and how Carlos would react

I love you, please save me.

Lando Norris x Sainz!reader

Genre: angst and fluff

Summary: when readers relashonship with Charles leaves her broken, Lando and Carlos are there to help pick up the peices.

Warnings: talks of cheating and toxic behavior.

Request: Yes, and I hope you like it! My requests are open for Lando, Max, Oscar, Daniel, and Charles.

Notes: written in second person.

Masterlist // part two

Charles leclerc had been a dream on a boyfriend. He was everything you could have asked for. But Lando was there for you after the fall.

You spent lots of time around the paddock. Usually trailing after your older brother or attempting to find his girlfriend.

With all the time you spent there, it was only natural you got to know Lando. Your brother being a driver for McLaren meant getting to be a menace to your brother with Lando.

The two of you became fast friends. Oddly enough, because of the age gap between you and your brother, it meant that somehow he'd convinced Lando to also take on a more protective role.

You basically had personal body guards if you went anywhere.

When Carlos moved to Ferrari, you found yourself spending more time with a certain monegasque. Carlos and Lando both like Charles, so when he asked you out they were happy for you.

Carlos knew felt bad for the Brit as you had told them. The subtle hurt over not finding the courage to confess his feelings earlier, did not go unnoticed by the Spaniard.

You stayed good friends with Lando. Splitting your time evenly between the McLaren and Ferrari garages. Even staying with Lando on multiple occasions over breaks and spending time in his hotel room watching movies.

You’d started becoming distant as of late. Concerning both Carlos and Lando. The two determined to know the reason behind your eye bags and mildly defensive manner.

“Do you think it’s something with Charles?” Asked Lando to the Spaniard on day over lunch.

Carlos pauses for a minute to consider. “I don’t think so, Charles has seemed fine. I feel like we would know if something was going on with them.” He then tilts his head, pondering over every situation that could be happening. “Right?”

~

This, however, was the beginning of a downward spiral. The first nine months wth Charles was great. You two got along well and have a shared interest in music and art. There hadn't been a dull moment.

Now you felt stuck in an endless cycle. Charles had started being secretive. Going out late at night without you and not coming back until the morning.

He'd been blowing you off and avoiding your questions. Anger rising in his voice when you did so.

You blamed Ferraris back luck. He blamed the bad luck on you.

But then he'd come back to you. Tell you sweet words and make you feel loved.

You didn't know how to leave, and if you did, it might affect your brother. You didn't want to put that kind of strain on their relationship.

So you stayed. Even now. Almost two years into your relationship.

Everyone has sensed something wasn't right, but you could never find the words to make it known.

Your brother had become more gentle with his tone. Hoping you would let him in so he could help you.

Lando had become your rock. Taking advice from Carlos to be gentle with you. There might be more going on than what meets the eye.

And he'd confirmed it one day after a race.

Another bout of bad luck hit Ferrari, and the Monegasque driver was far from happy.

Carlos happened to be walking by Charles driver room when he heard the yelling. The male switching languages so fast it gave him whiplash.

Concerned, Carlos presses his ear to the door. Fire building in his bones when he hears your broken voice attempting to soothe him only to be berated back.

Carlos knew it wouldn't go well if he picked a fight. He needed to be smart about this.

If this was how charles had been treating you, no wonder you were so tired.

Last week, you'd fallen asleep at Lando's apartment. Lando had tried to get you to move away from him. Not wanting to push any boundaries.

Eventually, he'd just settled on giving you his bed and trying to get a hold of Charles to come get you.

When Charles picked up, he could hear the loud music in the background and Charles slurring his words.

He'd tried to explain the situation only to met with an angry grunt and the sound of the call ending.

Heaving in frustration, he'd settled on taking you home himself in the morning.

He woke up to your tears the next morning. Staring at your phone and begging him to help you.

You'd told him everything that morning. Going as far as to confess, you'd had feelings for the Brit. You just couldn't get away from Charles. Trying and failing multiple times.

Lando kissed you that morning and promised to help get you out.

Now Carlos was on the phone with him, but he couldn't hear anything past Charles had once again made you cry.

He was angry, to say the least. You were so kind and funny, and you were one of the best listeners he'd ever met. You didn't care that he's a picky eater and cheered him up after rough races.

Everyone knew to stay out of his way. He was a man on a mission. Determination fills his lungs with each breath.

He ignored the confused looks of the Ferrari staff. Pushing past as they tried to ask him questions.

After what felt like an eternity to him, he made it to Carlos. The two are now waiting for someone to open the door.

"Can't write just open it ourselves?" Lando questions. His foot tapping a hole through the ground out on anxiety and impatience.

Carlos shakes his head. "Already tried it."

They hear the lock click and watch the door swing open. Without hesitation, Carlos is on Charles trying to understand the yelling. Both boys are getting defensive.

Lando finds you balled in the corner. Your eyes are red and puffy. Hands over your ears to block out the noise. He's immediately down by your side. Cupping your cheeks in his hands.

You embraced him. Using his heartbeat to steady your own.

You two stayed like that. Lando as your shield.

"Stay away from my sister." Carlos seethed. Having pushed Charles so far back, he created an opening big enough for Lando to heave you up and guide you out of the room. Carlos marching close behind you two.

It felt like a breath air being out of the garage.

You immediately detach from Lando and hug your brother. Your thanks being muffled by his chest.

He stroked your hair. "I wish I could've helped earlier. Also, I think someone else is more deserving of your love."

He looks behind you at Lando, who is now awkwardly waving at you two.

You smile through the tears. "Thank you for saving me."

Lando throws his arms around you and gently places his lips on yours. "It's my honor. Even better is that I get you all to myself now."

[cutielando]

addressing the hate.

i have a lot to say about this entire weekend, so buckle up.

there have a lot of ups and downs for us this weekend, we can all agree with that.

hope was there on Friday, with both cars up there both in FP1 and Sprint Quali.

then came the Sprint.

i support both Lando and Oscar, and i can admit, and proudly at that, that Oscar 100% deserved to win that Sprint. but at the same time, he knew that at that point, Lando was close to Max in the championship and needed every possible point that he could take. so, Oscar played the team game. i know some people don’t agree with it, but in my opinion, it was kind of fair play. Lando took one for the team when he switched positions with Oscar in Hungary (for this one, i blame the team and the team only because they fucked up their pit stops and made the whole thing much worse than it needed to be), Oscar took one for the team today in the Sprint, which realistically does not bring a lot of points for the top 8.

qualifying for the race was when things started to not go in our favor. Lando barely managed to get in terms with the car to make it to Q2, by the skin of his teeth, and even though he put an incredible time on the timesheets and got Pole, the race was where it all went to hell.

losing the lead after the first corner, admittedly making mistakes that had no room to be made yesterday when the opportunity to close the championship gap was so great, the team once again fucking up his race with that pit stop (which Russell also suffered from), nothing went in his favor.

despite everything, i am very proud of Max and his performance yesterday. to come from P17 to P1 and finish the race with a 19 second lead to 2nd place is something beyond amazing, and Max truly deserved that win. he has shown, once again, why he is a master in the wet and despite everything that has happened in the past few weeks that we are not proud of, he has shown why he is a soon-to-be 4 time World Champion. i bow my hat to you, Max Verstappen, because you are the best driver of your generation and one of the best drivers the sport has ever seen.

however, this brings me to my main point.

the hate that i’ve seen thrown Lando’s away from the moment the race ended is baffling to me. i know a lot of people are saying that Lando never deserved to win the championship, that he’s not talented enough or he’s just lucky to have won.

let’s not forget that Max has been undefeated for 3 years straight, especially last season, and this time around Lando is the only driver who has managed to get even remotely close to him in the championship battle. you don’t have to like Lando, but you have to give some credit for putting in the work and making it at the top.

i find it very funny that a lot of you talk about how mental health is really important for these drivers because of the insane pressure they’re under, but you jump at the occasion to send death threats to one of them like it’s nothing. you defend your favorite driver when someone hates on them and you complain about the people that hate on your favorite, but you do the same to Lando, someone else’s favorite driver. you guys are no better than the people you complain about and claim to hate.

these drivers are first and foremost human beings. they know what’s at stake, they know what they’re dealing with, and they feel these wins and losses on a different level than we do.

Lando has been very vocal about his past struggles with mental health, and now everyone is sending him hateful messages and threats? when he’s proved time and time again what a kind soul he is?

you people have no decency.

these are human beings. how would you like it if your every move was scrutinized and judged to the maximum? how would you feel if you were in their place, seeing so many people’s hateful comments and wishes of harm towards you?

think about how you would feel if you were on the receiving end of your hateful comments.

please, do better.

stop the hate.

congratulations, Max Verstappen, for this incredible win.

congratulations, Lando Norris, for all the work you’ve put into becoming better and actually fighting at the top.

shame on you, the people who pretend to be their fans.

do better.

[theroseceleste]

Pilot Miguel - Part 11 - My Hero

Miguel seems to be in a bit of a mood and a celebrity passenger only seems to worsen it. However, all problems have to be put aside in an emergency situation.

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

Word count - 4172

Minors DNI

If you don't want spoilers, don't read the 'contains' bit below.

Contains : Jealous behaviour, flight incident - bird ingestion / engine failure, emergency landing - no casualties. Smut : Fingering, mutual masturbation, penetrative sex.

Enjoy! xx

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

There’s excitement in the staff lounge at Adolfo Suárez Madrid-Barajas airport. A celebrity is going to be on your flight and obviously, you’ll be serving him in first-class. Sergio Velasquez, who is only just the handsomest actor in the film industry; nominated for many Oscars and seemingly the nicest man in the world.

You and Miguel turn up in the staff lounge, on a rare occasion where he flies you back to Nueva York after having flown you to Madrid just a couple of days before.

The last forty-eight hours have once again been magical and you have enjoyed spending time with your man, wandering around the city and making mad, passionate love together in your hotel room.

“Oh my God, oh my God…” you mutter under your breath excitedly when you hear about Sergio Velasquez.

Miguel looks down at you, as he thrusts his phone into his pocket.

“What’s the matter?” he asks you, looking slightly irritated, but not at you.

You stare back up at him.

“Sergio Velasquez… You know; charming actor, famous, really nice guy…”

Your tone almost sounds dreamy as you imagine what meeting him is going to be like.

Miguel huffs in a disinterested manner.

“So what?”

You blink at him in surprise, but it’s clear that Miguel really does not understand what all the excitement is about.

“Just another passenger to me…”

Rolling your eyes slightly at him, you scoff.

“So what? He’ll be the first celebrity passenger I’ve ever served, and the one I’ve been most keen to meet.”

“Ahh, well, you know what they say, (Y/N). Never meet your heroes,” Peter interrupts as he steps into the conversation.

“Peter!” you cry out happily and give him a hug.

So much has happened since you last saw the co-pilot and you’re thrilled to see him. He always makes your flights interesting and full of good humour.

“Hey Migs, how are you doing? Good to see you again,” Peter says as he holds his hand out to the Captain who audibly groans upon hearing the name ‘Migs’.

He reluctantly takes Peter’s hand and shakes it.

“Let me guess, Lyla told you that nickname?”

“Sure did!”

“Here’s some advice – forget the name.” Miguel replies as he lets go of Peter’s hand and adjusts his tie.

Despite having an amazing time with you for two days in Spain, it seems his mood has plummeted even lower than normal. You notice he’s received a few texts which you feel troubles him.. And now his mood has worsened at the mention of the celebrity. Is he… jealous?

Peter shrugs and moves on to say hello to another member of the cabin crew, leaving you alone with Miguel once more.

“You’re not - jealous are you babe?” you whisper quietly so only he can hear.

He scoffs as he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous of Sergio Velasquez?”

He’s totally jealous…

“Okay, so Migs is a ‘no-go’ for you, so what can I call you?” Peter asks as he takes his seat on the right of the cockpit.

Most of Miguel’s attention is on the weather report. Decent conditions are forecast until approaching Nueva York in the evening.

“Checks, Parker.”

“Checks? That’s an odd name-“

“Tch…” he tuts, “not my name! Do. Your. Checks!”

Peter goes red in the face, partially out of embarrassment but also frustration. No one struggles warming up to him, so why is Captain O’Hara being super prickly?

Without another word he does his once-over checks on his side of the controls. Everything looks in good working order.

Miguel is now reading the plane’s log-book. Once again, a squeaky clean history. No issues or malfunctioning equipment. Feeling satisfied, he stuffs the book back where he found it.

“You can call me Miguel,” he finally responds to Peter, unable to shake off feeling a little bad about his outburst earlier.

Since his recent contact with Xina, and her persistent pestering, he feels a little on edge most of the time.

“Miguel - nice name,” Peter replies with a compliment, but it doesn’t match his usual warmth.

The Captain frowns. He’s finally managed to shut Flight Officer Parker up, but at what cost? Then he casts his mind to you while he does his equipment checks. He wonders what you’re doing and if you’ve met Sergio Velasquez.

“Good afternoon Mr Velasquez, such an honour to be serving you today,” you stutter ever so slightly as you greet the actor you’ve liked for quite a while now.

After taking a look at his ticket you show him to his seat and offer him a glass of champagne. He gives you a weak smile and he continues to wear his sunglasses despite being inside the plane.

“Thanks,” he mutters to you quietly as he takes the glass and makes himself comfortable.

Your immediate thought is that he’s probably faced a bunch of fans at the airport and simply wants some time to himself, which you can understand, of course.

There is a slight delay as it takes a while to get all passengers on board. Some are running late and have put everything on hold. During that time you check on the pilots to see if they need any quick refreshments before they’re committed to takeoff. Peter asks for water, but Miguel just shakes his head in response.

After a quick trip into the galley you return with a cup of water for Flight Officer Parker as the last few passengers come on board and put their bags in the overhead lockers.

“How’s Sergio?” your boyfriend asks with mock interest.

“Awww, you do care,” you tease Miguel, ruffling the back of his hair as Peter looks away to get his checklist ready.

“He’s alright - quiet. Not quite like how I expected.”

“Never meet your heroes,” Peter repeats from earlier, but you sense he’s in a mood now, too.

Silence fills the cockpit as you look at both of the pilots with a concerned frown.

“Is everything o—“

“Hello?”

You hear someone calling out near the entrance to the cockpit, grabbing your attention immediately.

“Shit, that’s him…” you mutter.

As you step away, Miguel opens his grumpy mouth to speak as he smooths over his now messy hair.

“Yes, you go deal with him.”

His words make both you and Peter look at him with a stunned expression. This is unlike him when you’re around…

Stepping back towards Miguel, you allow yourself to wrap your arms around his shoulders in front of Peter - you trust him. A quick, soft and tender kiss is delivered to his cheek, making him freeze on the spot, eyes fixed on the apparatus before him.

“Be good,” you whisper against his cheek while your hand strokes the other, immediately causing his heart to pound hard in his chest.

Pulling yourself away, you give a flabbergasted Peter a wink before leaving the cockpit to deal with Sergio.

Miguel can feel Peter’s eyes on him.

“Don’t even think about saying anything…”

Peter raises his hands placatingly.

“Absolutely. Staying out of this one.”

Despite not saying anything, he wonders just what has happened between the both of you since he last saw you in Acapulco. He hopes that Miguel treats you better than how he just did too.

“We need to start pre-flight checks…” Miguel mutters quietly in hope to get out of this awkward situation.

Despite still feeling your kiss on his skin and the sound of it lingering in his ear. An unignorable and uncomfortable squeezing around his heart continues. Jealousy is an ugly feeling and he hates the fact he’s behaving the way he is. It’s suffocating and heavy in his chest. He trusts you, but despises the fact that another man that gets you excited is receiving your attention right now…

You sigh as you finally strap yourself in the jump seat. Sergio has been giving you the runaround, whilst not being particularly pleasant about it either.

He asked for a new glass of champagne as his first drink was ‘too bubbly’ for his liking, and insisted that the cabin was too dark despite you telling him numerous times it was because he was still wearing his sunglasses. It’s safe to say you’re not looking forward to the rest of the flight, but feeling thankful for this respite as the plane begins its journey to the runway.

As you wait for the plane to take off, you hear the usual sound of passengers talking to their neighbours, a calm and peaceful atmosphere until the engines start to roar. You get thrusted forward a little more than usual out of your seat as your back faces the front of the plane.

You might be a little paranoid, but you can’t help but think Miguel’s foul mood is reflected in how the plane behaves. Perhaps he’s a little overzealous with the thrusters today?

The air above the runway shimmers in the heat as the Boeing-747 tears its way along it, engines screaming as all four of them push hard to get 397 tons at the right speed to take flight.

The familiar dropping sensation in your stomach tells you that all wheels have left the ground and the back of the plane looks like it’s at the bottom of an incredibly steep hill.

Inside the cockpit, both pilots are silent as they monitor the equipment. Miguel presses a switch that calls back the landing gear, stowing them away in the plane’s belly. A clunking sound indicates that the automatic doors have shut the wheels in.

Everything seems completely normal until the two men hear a loud bang, shaking the whole plane and making them flinch. Lights on the cockpit dashboard illuminate, highlighting that engine three is in total shut-down.

“Mierda!” (Shit!) Miguel yells as his mind runs rapidly, remembering the emergency landing procedure.

The bang is heard throughout the fuselage, followed by panicked screams and yelps of shock on the right hand side of the aircraft. Some passengers witness one of the four engines suffer a catastrophic failure. Flames burst out of the back, spurring chaos.

Your heart pounds as various thoughts rush through your mind all at once. What the hell has happened and if Miguel and Peter are okay?

If there is ever a time to panic, now is not it. After the initial shock, both pilots revert to their extensive training that got them here in the first place.

“Mayday, mayday, flight AA-1610 has suffered what we suspect is a bird ingestion in engine three. Requesting priority to circle round and land immediately.”

Peter sounds calm and collected as he radios the air traffic control tower. As he does this, Miguel levels the plane out to stop it from climbing any higher.

“Understood flight AA-1610, can you confirm you still have control of the aircraft?” a man in air traffic control asks.

“Yes, we can still control the aircraft,” Peter answers plainly.

“Okay, I will be advising all flights in the air and on the ground to hold until you land. And I will request the assistance from airport emergency services.”

Miguel has been given the all clear to land. He banks the plane in a gentle turn to loop back and approach the runway for an emergency landing.

Back in the cabin, you hear Miguel inform the passengers and crew of the emergency landing and suspected bird ingestion resulting in the engine failure. To your relief, he sounds unphased and calm. Unlike Sergio who has suddenly gone very pale and begun whimpering. You’re starting to see him in a new light, and it’s not very flattering…

Passengers try and peer out of their windows to try and see the engine. Thankfully they’re not screaming or yelling. It seems Miguel has done a good job not to incite panic with the passengers with his announcement.

You feel the plane tilt as it makes its final approach. As it lines up with the runway, other planes loop around higher in the sky as they wait to be cleared to land.

Another clunking sound is heard through the fuselage, causing the already nervous passengers to worry even more, but you know that is the sound of the landing gear lowering and locking into place.

As Miguel brings the plane lower towards the runway, he can see emergency vehicles poised to roll along after the aircraft, ready to assist if needed. Some of them are fire trucks and a few others are ambulances in case there are any casualties should things become dire.

Despite being down one engine, the plane is flying exceptionally well. It still handles perfectly to get them back down on the ground safely.

The landing gear connects with land as smoothly as he can make it. Flaps on the wings extended at the fullest setting to slow the plane down before taxiing off the runway.

Cheers and applause are heard throughout the cabin as passengers feel great relief to be back on terra-firma. You spot Sergio blubbering, pressing his hands together as if to thank God for surviving a traumatic experience.

Despite rolling your eyes at him, you, too, feel like crying, but out of sheer pride for Miguel and Peter for dealing with the situation so professionally and efficiently. Everyone is safe on the ground thanks to them and their ability to fly and remain calm in an otherwise stressful situation.

Thankfully, there is a spare gate for the damaged plane to park at. It is safe to go near the terminal as the flames on the engine went out on their own after it died completely.

All on board are going to have to re-enter the terminal to wait for another plane to be organised by AracnAir for their flight to Nueva York. Some passengers feel thankful to be alive, others know this is the beginning of a painful wait in the airport while things are re-organised.

You itch to see Miguel but you have to do your duties of saying goodbye to all passengers and assisting those who need help. Sergio takes his time to leave as his phone is blowing up after tweeting about nearly dying on a flight. It seems the drama extends beyond the films in which he plays… Yes, what happened is serious, but the plane can fly pretty well with one or two engines out - it’s just not advisable.

Finally, everyone is gone, including Sergio. You’re glad to see the back of him. Peter is right and you begin to wonder if he’s ever run into his hero and regretted it.

You loiter in the galley, pacing it with anticipation while your other colleagues have already left. You know better than to interrupt the pilots when they’re completing their final checklists, shutting the plane’s systems down safely.

Eventually, the cockpit door clicks open, and the brave pilots emerge. The Flight Officer holds up his hand for a high five but you plough into him for a friendly hug, surprising both him and Miguel.

“Well done, you,” you mutter to him, giving him a squeeze with your arms.

Peter pats his hand against your back, obviously touched by your sweet gesture.

“Thank you (Y/N),” replies as you release him and then turn to face Miguel.

“And you too…”

Your man catches you in his arms, holding you close in his embrace. Finally, a smile breaks across his lips.

“You both did amazing and I’m so proud of you.”

Peter can’t believe what he’s seeing. He’s not entirely sure he’s seen a smile that wide on Miguel’s face, he pinches himself to see if he’s dreaming - nope, definitely awake.

“I’ll uhh, leave you two to it…” Peter begins, but Miguel steps forward, still holding you with one arm.

“Wait.”

Flight Officer Parker glances back up to the Captain.

“Thank you, Peter. I’m glad I had you with me today. And…” he pauses for a second as he puts you back down. “I should probably apologise to both of you. I was being a dick earlier and, I’m sorry.”

“Water under the bridge,” Peter replies, he’s not the type to hold grudges.

He extends his arm and pats Miguel on the shoulder.

“I’ve got to go and call my wife - excuse me.”

The Captain nods and then looks down at you as Peter makes his way off of the plane. Miguel wraps his arm around you, keeping you close.

“Come on chiquita, I guess we have at least one more day in Madrid,” he whispers to you, despite you two being the only ones there.

As you both walk into the terminal through the gate, you’re completely alone. The rest of your colleagues are way ahead of you.

Miguel holds onto you tightly, his arm firm around your waist. There is no longer any care for if anyone does see the two of you. He wants people to know that you’re his, and he is yours. Sergio Velasquez’s presence did make him jealous, he admits that now - to himself. But also, before he knew it was the engine that got destroyed, his first thought was you after hearing the concerning sound that shook the aircraft. For a split second, he thought something awful happened to you. It seems strange that he felt relieved it was a catastrophic failure of an engine instead. In that moment, his mind prioritised you over four-hundred passengers and cabin crew.

He looks back through the large windows of the gate at the giant, wounded, metal bird. A darkened, charred engine hangs under the right wing. The damaged turbine, missing blades, while the remainders are twisted and warped. It reminds him just how much worse things could have been and he’s thankful that he and Peter worked together like a well oiled machine to bring the plane safely back to the airport.

There’s a bathroom ahead along the corridor leading back to customs. After what has happened, he’s left feeling the urgent need to shower you with love. To make up for his jealous behaviour earlier.

With a quick glance around to check that you both are truly alone, he pulls you into the bathroom with no warning. You squeal at the sudden change of direction but you don’t complain when you find yourself shut in the room, alone with him. His lips against yours in a matter of seconds and his hands roaming your body as though he has never touched you before.

“Necesito tenerte, ahora,” (I need to have you, now) he whispers against your lips, his breath shaking with overwhelming need.

He takes your breath away with his urgency. You feel the bathroom door press against your back and you hear him sliding the lock into place.

“People will hear when they walk past,” you gasp out as he pulls the hem of your skirt up over your hips.

“I don’t care…” he moans as his fingers massage your clit through your panties.

Your moan follows soon after as you open your legs slightly to allow him better access.

“Lo siento chiquita…” Miguel groans against your lips.

“What for?” you ask breathlessly, brows knitting together as pleasure rushes around your body.

Eventually his fingers find the edge of your panties and pull them to one side. Running the tips of his digits against your aroused entrance.

“I lied,” he pauses to kiss you on the lips. “I was jealous.” Another kiss is planted on your cheek. “I trust you.” Another kiss against your neck. “I just didn’t like that Sergio was getting your attention.”

Now it all makes sense. You’re not mad at him. He was rude to you, yes, but he’s apologised for it. You can even understand him, remembering the times when your female colleagues were practically salivating over him. It feels like a punch in the gut, even though he never entertained the thought of being with anyone else.

His fingers plunge inside of you, making you tip your head back in pleasure and almost cry out at the sensation of his warm fingers massaging you.

It’s irresistible, you can’t help but grind yourself against his hand, seeking more contact against your clit and a deeper reach of his fingers.

“Ride my hand, that’s it chiquita,” me murmurs against your lips again as you hear the clinking of his belt buckle.

“I want you nice and wet for me.”

His fingers reach deeper, as the heel of his palm rubs against your swelling, sensitive bud. The words he uses and his actions always get you aroused - without fail.

As you remain pressed against the bathroom door, you see that he’s unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants. Reaching forward, your fingers tug on the taut hem of his boxer briefs and pull them down, his twitching cock springs free, pre-cum already beading at the tip.

“Mmmm… touch me there, por favor…”

His hand guides yours to his length, wrapping your fingers around it and pulls it up and down to get you started.

“Like that baby, sí…” he moans as his hips thrust forwards gently.

You feel his digits pump into you harder, desperate to get you ready, although he doesn’t think you’re far off.

The bathroom is soon full of yours and his moans of pleasure as you mutually play with one another. He breathes deeply as if he’s trying to control himself. Champing at the bit to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.

Your lips part wider as a gasp escapes your mouth. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty before he grabs you under your ass and lifts you up. There’s a thud against the door as he presses you against it, preparing to fill you with his throbbing shaft.

“I need to be inside you, baby…”

His words are practically spoken into your mouth as he kisses and talks at the same time. Feeling fogged with need, he doesn’t know what action to stop and what to start. All that he does know is that he needs to feel you wrapping around him, clenching on his dick.

He lets you slide down the door slightly until he’s able to thrust into you, filling and stretching you instantly.

“Miguel~!” you squeal before covering your mouth.

“Say it, say my name, I don’t care who hears us…”

The door bangs as he pumps into you. At first, you’re on edge; worried who might hear, but when he starts hitting the right spot inside you, all your worries fade away. Care and concern seeps out of you as all you can think about is him panting in your ear, fucking you harder as each minute goes by.

“Fuck! So good!”

He grits his teeth and grunts into your ear. His fingers dig into your flesh as he holds you under your thighs.

Your hand finds the door handle for something to hold onto. His thrusts are beginning to push you over the edge.

“Baby - I’m gonna…” you gasp as he pumps even harder, those bangs getting louder.

“Yes! That’s it. I’m not far behind-” Grunt.

Your world comes crashing down, in the best way possible. Ecstasy consumes your body, washing over you like a tidal wave and you tumble along with it, following the flow it pushes you in. You’re lost to the feeling of him inside you, to his sounds vibrating in your ear and his hot breath against your neck.

Finally his body shudders hard as he groans, the ultimate pleasure overwhelming him too. He slows his movements and rests his head against yours.

“Two days with you isn’t enough chiquita,” he mumbles, trying to catch his breath.

“I need more…”

You nuzzle against him as you recover. Your legs wrapped around him, holding him still inside you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, chiquita, I want us to go away on holiday. Where I can have you all to myself, somewhere sunny and warm so I can see you dressed in nothing but bikinis and pretty dresses.”

Your teeth bite down on your lip as you listen to his answer. A retreat sounds perfect.

“Where do you have in mind?” you eventually ask as you feel him prepare to pull out and lower you to the floor.

“I hear Tenerife this time of year is great.”

The both of you get yourselves cleaned up and fix your clothing.

“So, was it good to meet Sergio?” Miguel asks, as he does up his zip.

You give a shrug while you roll your skirt back down your thighs and smooth over the material.

“Peter’s right. Never meet your heroes.”

A quizzical eyebrow raises at your response. He can’t deny feeling a lot happier hearing this.

“Besides, I have a new hero now.”

The quizzical eyebrow is joined by another, completing a more surprised expression on his face.

“Oh? And who might that be?”

You lean into him, pulling on his shirt to get him down to your level.

“You’re my hero…”

I hope you enjoyed part 11!

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[letsgolando-4]

Formula 1 explained (I think)

Here is a not-so-brief explanation of some of the important things in formula 1. Enjoy!

Free Practice

Free practice is drivers remembering how to not suck before they have to go and not suck in front of a lot of people with a lot more cameras. Whoever goes fastest gets people to momentarily hope (on the rare occasion that it is not Verstappen) that someone other then Verstappen will win a race. To put things into perspective, this never happens. Takes place on a Friday.

Qualifying

Qualifying is like a race but not a race. It’s short and if you suck in qualifying, unless you’re god (or again, Verstappen) you’re gonna suck in the race as well because however you finish is however you start in the actual race. If you manage to finish first in qualifying your on pole. Unfortunately, it no longer matters if anyone other than Verstappen is one pole because the guy somehow manages to clinch a race win anyway. Takes place on a Saturday.

Grand Prix (the actual race)

Finally, we have reached the actual race. There’s a lot of panic and stress for nothing and they make a big show of five lights going out and then people race. A lot of people go out in turn 1 so try to keep your head screwed on for the first few laps. If Williams are higher than P20 and P19, look outside because the world may be ending. Alfa Romeo disappear out of the points and tend to just suck in general. McLaren will either do really shit or really good but they can never actually WIN a race, just get onto the podium. Ferrari will occasionally let their fans sniff the air in P1 before either crashing or getting taken out by Verstappen. One of the two. The Mercedes will probably be nice and comfy having not moved from their cemented P4 and P5, and the Redbulls? Well, Checo doesn’t really get a lot of limelight but the aforementioned Verstappen will be winning. Not a negotiable fact. The other teams will be somewhere in between. Takes place on a Sunday.

Sprint Races

Occasionally the FIA are feeling quirky and they decide to have a sprint race which is like a race but not a race. It’s short so you don’t need to pit. Sometimes when they decide they don’t want blood on their hands they’ll stop a race halfway through if the conditions are dangerous and then resume it when the weather dies down. These are also technically little sprint races. They do regular qualifying on a Friday and then on Saturday they have what the FIA like to call a ✨sprint shootout✨ which is qualifying for a sprint race. Same rules apply. Then they have some fun with a sprint race and when they’ve calmed down a bit, have a normal race on Sunday.

Teams And Drivers

The current formula 1 grid has 20 drivers, two drivers per team, and in case you suck at maths, that makes 10 teams. Teams have first and second driver. This is a way of saying who is shit and who is not without hurting their feelings. These teams and their drivers are as follows:

Redbull: Max Verstappen (first driver) and Sergio “Checo” Perez (second driver)

Ferrari: Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz. No first driver because the team principal likes Leclerc more but Sainz’s father realised this.

Mercedes: Lewis Hamilton (first driver) and George Russell (second driver)

McLaren: Lando Norris (first drivers) and Oscar Piastri (second driver)

Alpine: Esteban Ocon and Pierre Gasly. Again, no first driver because the French civil war is too intense. At least I think.

Alfa Romeo: Valtteri Bottas (first driver) and Zhou Guyanu (second driver)

Alpha Tauri: Yuki Tsunoda (first driver) and Daniel Ricciardo (second driver) although Ricciardo had a bad crash and broke his arm so as of October 2023 Liam Lawson from F2 is stepping in.

Aston Martin: Fernando Alonso (first driver) and Lance Stroll (second driver)

Haas: Kevin Magnussen (first driver) and Nico Hulkenberg (second driver)

Williams: Alexander Albon (first driver) and Logan Sargeant (second driver)

So that’s the low-down on the bare bones of an F1 race. Tell me if I’ve missed anything or got anything wrong!

Danny out.

[spectordameron]

⊹₊ We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ I'm Nym (she/her), and I'm 25 years old. My hobbies include gifmaking, writing fanfiction, and talking about how much I love Poe Dameron. I'm neurodivergent & ace as hell, and I treat tumblr as a scrapbook of my favorite things. We do cringe here, and we do it well.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Because of the aforementioned scrapbooking, I keep my asks off majority of the time, and I mute all gifsets that I post to avoid negativity. I will rarely blog about current events or fandom discourse, & although I do love to kvetch on occasion about things, I'm trying to keep this a positive space. Given that I'm an adult, I will occasionally blog about adult topics, and I don't typically tag that, so this is technically an 18+ account.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ I'm a multifandom entity, but I post the most about Star Wars, with a focus on the Sequel Trilogy, SWTOR, and Star Wars Rebels. You probably won't be seeing the prequels here much, as I don't personally care for them outside of the Phantom Menace (it invented cinema, which is very kind since it came out the year I was born). ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ I also have a special interest in Marvel that's slowly been resurging. You can expect a lot of Moon Knight (the TV show), Spider-Man (anything but the Holland films), and the X-Men (Rogue, Gambit, Logan, Jean & Kurt especially). Occasionally, I blog about other MCU things, usually pertaining to Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova, or Kate Bishop. ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Other things I'm interested in that might pop up on this blog includes: Oscar Isaac & his filmography, Sabrina Carpenter, Taylor Swift, My Lady Jane, various movies (usually fantasy or romance, with some horror mixed in), Castle, Gilmore Girls, Disney animated films, and Doctor Who (Moffat's era)!

You can find more stuff under the cut, such as info on my OCs and links to my other social media pages! ⊹₊

As aforementioned, I write a lot of canon/oc fanfiction and I play SWTOR, so I've got a lot of OCs that I'll likely mention in passing on this blog. On SWTOR, I'm known as the Starlight Legacy <3 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Volya Doneeta —  my original girlie, the light of my life. Initially a Clone Wars era Jedi archivist, nowadays I focus on writing her in the middle of time-travel shenanigans that result in her becoming a pilot in the Resistance. She's a blue, chubby Twi'lek with short lekku, and a temper that bellies her size. ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Emilia McKnight — a not-quite-so retired vigilante who went by the name of Nephila, until tragedy resulted in her moving to Brixton, London. However, with gods and monsters around every corner, she ends up putting the suit back on. Mostly set in a not canon-compliant to the MCU Moon Knight 'verse, but I sometimes toy with her in Spiderverse (as she was originally meant to be). ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Lucina Thelanis — my Jedi Knight/Outlander for SWTOR that I main. Born on Kijimi and taken in by the Jedi Order, Lucina grew into a rude and arrogant Jedi until taking on an apprentice, and learning humility. She slowly lost herself across the years of the war, becoming more symbol than person, until a chance meeting with Theron Shan. Light Side IV

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Divider Credits go to: thecutestgrotto & drizztdohurtin ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ You can find me elsewhere @dameronswife (self-ship blog) and @disabledameron (inactive, disability centered blog). ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ if you ever want to see what I do when I'm not on Tumblr, you can also find me on Spotify, Pinterest, Bluesky, Letterboxd & Toyhouse!

[dream-meister-translations]

OSCAR CHARACTER CARD #2

━

A few days later, I was attending a fruit market with Oscar, in order to better observe and understand his work for the guild. OSCAR : Not enough sugar. You've overwatered your fruit, it's obvious. FRUIT FARMER 1 : Yes! Yes! A gourmet is one that sees everything that makes up a dish. With just one bite, Oscar is able to instantly pick apart any meal and tell you what is missing. FRUIT FARMER 2 : Next, try our melons, please!

OSCAR : The texture isn't the best…I believe these were harvested three days early? You should always remember to harvest your fruit at their ripest. FRUIT FARMER 3 : Next look at mine! FRUIT FARMER 4 : No, no! Look at this huge melon from my garden! OSCAR : Now, now. No need to be so hasty. I'll get to everything in due time. The next thirty minutes or so were spent with Oscar eating one fruit after another, vocalizing his thoughts on whether they were tasty or not. And what the farmers could do better. They all listen and eagerly ask for more advice. It must be because everyone trusts Oscar's opinions as a gourmet. OSCAR : Emma, it's your turn. If you're to be the guild keeper of the gastronomy guild, you must be able to do this. Take a bite and tell me what you think. EMMA : You want to know what I think? Biting my bottom lip I hesitantly glance down at the fruit in Oscar's hand, before finally taking a bite of it. As I chew, I try to observe what it tastes like. EMMA : It tastes like a fresh breeze on the mountainside… OSCAR : Poetic expressions have no use in gastronomy. EMMA : (How dare he…!) OSCAR : I appreciate your attempt to express your thoughts on food in a multifaceted way. However, you still have a lot to learn. We have six more places to go before we call it a night. Pay attention to what I do and take notes. EMMA : Yes, sir! After many more taste-testings, we visited a small Western-style restaurant in the middle of the marketplace. So far I have managed to keep up with Oscar, but I can feel my stomach is about to burst. I don't think I can eat much more. EMMA : (Ugh…My stomach is suffering!) OSCAR : Is that the best you can do? EMMA : Yeah… OSCAR : Okay. You should never eat beyond your limits. Because you can't truly appreciate food on a full stomach. Do you think you can take one final bite of this cake? EMMA : Yeah, I think I can... With a smile tugging at his lips, Oscar picks up his fork and takes a bite from the cake, before holding it out to me. OSCAR : Here. Try a bite. EMMA : Eh!? OSCAR : So, you lied to me when you said you still had room for one more bite? EMMA : No…It's not that… He stared at me with so much expectation, I could feel the pressure weighing on me. Even though my stomach was full, I couldn't say no to him. With a glance down at the cake I took a bite of it. EMMA : It's delicious…! OSCAR : Naturally. After all, this is one of my favorite restaurants. EMMA : Still, it was kinda unexpected. OSCAR : What was unexpected about it? EMMA : Well, I thought you were really strict about table manners and decorum… OSCAR : Hm…? Oh, you mean because I fed you the cake? I wouldn't typically do something like that, you're correct. But, it depends on the occasion.

OSCAR : What if, for example, we were eating food from an uncivilized land? In that culture people may eat their food with their hands. It would only be fair to the food to eat it how it was intended to be eaten. The only thing that really matters is that we enjoy the food. Oscar flashed me a smile and took a bite of the cake. After finishing his meal, the two of us left the restaurant and headed down the road. OSCAR : Alright, we've taste-tested their newest cake, let's move on! EMMA : Oh, you're still going!? OSCAR : I've finished all that I planned for the day, but there are still more foods to try! Gastronomy is forever evolving! Oscar walked swiftly down the road. I chased after him, so that I would not be left behind.

[animalnarratives]

Bingo: logan ofc

tears i saw you rb the post and i was going to ask you about him too...

going in order. JUST A LITTLE GUY. Not much else to add. hes just a dude :( trying his best to drive the car :( me personally i am so moved. funny little dude of course. he jests a little during williams videos and i find it very endearing. yes king keep the shy tentative jokes coming i love you

i am addicted to traumatizing him is a DRAMATIC way to put it... though i have. a couple of. (coughs) wips of sorts. mostly i think he is especially compelling in unrequited/unbalanced love scenarios. thats my bad. i could make him worse but i could make anyone worse thats not exactly a flex. i could however also make him worse in that i could make an asshole out of him. i couldnt fix him because he doesnt need fixing <3

my opinions are not popular, because the popular opinions are WRONG. people wildly mischaracterize as this brash patriotic guy for some reason and i know its the patriotic american stereotype but come on ... literally All the interviews saying to some degree that hes quiet or shy. the gq (?) article saying the team says he says hi to the security guards and to a surgeon (???). he is so lovely. and nobody gets it. also people characterizing him as a fratboy that gets a shitton of pussy i am so sorry i think he is chronically rizzless. massive virgin if you will. and also that he would get a 100ish score on the raads-r

people liking him for the wrong reason is a very specific gripe i just mean people on twitter flocking to defend him from the trump supporter allegations because they like trump. now ill do you one better PEOPLE HATE HIM FOR THE WRONG REASON. And mischaracterize him by that same occasion. he is NOT an asshole he is NOT bad tempered he is NOT boring if you think he is that is a SKILL ISSUE.

i lied actually there is not One thing that makes me insane about him. there are MANY things. Again such a shy little guy... but also how hes an absolute touch freak. always in people's space. specifically oscar's and alex's and sometimes benny's (thank the Lord...).

Of course. i think its pretty obvious because i keep on rambling. he fills me with such an intense emotion... everything about him. maybe i shouldve ticked the gen compelling box actually. My boy... always fidgeting. touching his own hands. sitting weirdly. walking weirdly. And his weird right ear and his smile he almost never lets cameras capture but that makes his eyes crinkle... and how he says he's been so so unhappy until literally last year in London because he misses the sun and the sea and you kind of feel like an outsider in europe all the time. and again how hes a touch freak but he rarely puts his hands on people---most often nudging them with his hip or his arm or his shoulder. how he listens to drake the most and eminem of course but then hes also into that saxophone song he mentioned? how he asks benny about 90s rock? and i could go on and on. hes such a creature. i love him. he is my everything. genuinely havent been compelled by any of the drivers like i have been with him. and trust me in the almost 3 years ive been here ive been MASSIVELY compelled. Hes also a bit of a loser and thats the cherry on top

[faces-of-7th-art]

@juliettebinoche @ralphfiennes.official portraits. Cannes 1996. On the occasion of their appearance at the Thessaloniki International Film Festival, I am publishing two of my portraits of the iconic actors. I had captured them repeatedly in Paris and Cannes… Two great figures of the 7th Art who met for the first time in the iconic film "The English Patient" awarded with 9 oscars, (2nd female role for Juliette Binoche and nomination for first male role for Ralph Fiennes) by #anthonyminghella. However, the reason for the arrival of the two actors in our country was their new film signed by Uberto Pasolini and entitled "The Return". This is the third time that they have joined forces in their career after the Windswept Heights. "I visited your monasteries, walked your streets, felt your stones and the shade of your trees, tasted your bread, fish and vegetables, admired your Byzantine treasures! What a beautiful day it was!" said Juliette Binoche in her speech. "Your sky, your sea is an inspiration to me," added the French actress, referring to Sophocles and Homer, the great Greek philosophers and Saints. After greeting the audience in Greek, Ralph Fiennes expressed the gratitude he feels, both for the honor of the Festival and for the fact that he is "with this great woman". "Working with her is something like a dream. She's a great artist, unique, unusual in her energy, she inspires you to work, I haven't experienced that with any other co-star," he said visibly moved. … In the portraits I created with them, I noticed that they both had this smirk that revealed a restrained discretion, a "timidity", but at the same time an enormous stubbornness and will…

[desperately0seeking]

12.08.22

A DREADED SUNNY DAY

We’d marked Friday as the day to have a little picnic at the Eiffel Towel, an evening picnic, so after eating an okay falafel in Le Marais for lunch (i’ve had better in brunny) we bought a few cheeses and meat from some pretty delis for later. At the cheese shop the plan was to buy one hard and one soft, but with the little french we had between us we resolved to pointing at one that looked hard and one that looked soft to take to Champ de Mars, with no idea what kind of cheese we’d be eating. On the way back to the airbnb I split from my company to visit the famous cemetery down the hill from where we were staying. I’d hitherto spent many hours in the cemeteries of the cities and towns I’d visited, however none as illustrious as the Cimetière du Père Lachaise, resting place of Chopin, Seurat, Proust, Modigliani, et al. I had a lot of time to work with as I wasn’t picnicking with the others until sunset, and it was a sweet and warm afternoon. I took myself to the monoprix by the necropolis’ southern entrance and browsed the beer fridge. A tall, scruffy, and skinny man of about my age joined me in contemplating the various bottles chilling in front of us. He was wearing a poncho over his meek shoulders, thus giving his appearance the effect of a folded standing umbrella. He asked me, in french, if I spoke english and I replied and nothing else, in english.

He selected a large and dark bottle from the fridge with a gaudy label containing scrawling (french) writing and three plump tomatoes. He asked me if I had tried this before (I hadn’t), if it was beer made from tomatoes (I supposed), and what I thought of it (sounds gross). We continued our conversation beyond his peculiar drink choice and he mentioned that he was on the way up to the cemetery to visit a grave. I mentioned I was heading there too so we bought our beers and strolled up to the cemetery gates. It was a stinker of a day for my companion - he just learned he’d received a speeding fine back home in Bristol, the last he was allowed before licence rescission, and that this was a disaster as he lives in his van and, as his parents just moved to Paris, he will now have nowhere to live. As a remedy he wanted to have some beers by the tomb of his hero: Jim Morrison. 

My knowledge of Jim Morrison doesn’t go much further than his leading of The Doors, and his intense bon vivant lifestyle that lead to an early death, in Paris (one must either have lived in or died in Paris to be buried at Pere Lachaise). Mon ami passionately filled my Jim Morrison lacuna as we walked to the grave, finding it enclosed by graffiti-laden steel temp fencing around it and an array of flowers, letters, photographs and random knick knacks, such as small dog trinkets. The Bristolian was such a fan of the lizard king that he had committed multiple Morrison poems to memory, reciting one to me by the graveside. I offered to take a photo of him standing by the grave, a grave mistake indeed as I got sent back on three occasions before he was happy with the shot (and note we were not the only visitors at the time). I called on my friend to follow me up to what I thought was the cemetery’s main attraction, the tomb of Oscar Wilde. We broke on through to the other side of the cemetery where the great Sphinx-like sculpture levitates above its neighbours. One of the more renown tombs of the world, the tomb of Oscar Wilde is not just famous due to the dandy lying within, but its design, the controversy surrounding its construction and the ongoing engagement or vandalism, depending how ya brain works, by Wilde fans makes it a very intriguing site. The tomb, a great block of stone with a kind of naked sphinx carved out of it, had various priggish detractors when it was announced it would be living in the cemetery, and the sculptor, Jacob Epstine, was given fines and hurdles to jump over from hostile police when installing it. The angelic sphinx originally had genitals where a man would usually have them, but Epstine returned to the site one day of working on it to find the testicles covered by plaster. Compromise with the police was reached when Wilde’s executor agreed a bronze butterfly would be installed to cover the testicles. Epstine did not give permission for the artwork to be altered and refused to attend the unveiling, leaving the unveiling to Aleister 'The Great Beast' Crowley, of all people. It’s said that a short time later Crowley approached Epstine at a Paris cafe to let Epstine know his problem had been fixed: around Crowley’s neck hung a necklace with the castrated butterfly balancing in its centre. 

As Wildes name and reputation progressed from scandalous to marvellous, the tomb began to apply makeup. For years visitors made their own mark on the grave by kissing it with red lipstick and liner. After a while it was realised the lipstick, and its irregular removal, was causing damage to the stone, but nothing was done about it. This adoration went on for years to the point where the tomb’s erosion was so bad that longevity was genuinely at risk, and in 2014 a glass casing was installed around it. Those who still want to kiss the stone can do so by climbing on the neighbouring grave and jumping up, and a smattering of kisses were there on my visit, for each man kills the thing he loves. All this and more was pontificated to my fellow traveller, a little bit of payback for earlier. By now the shadows from the tombs were starting to stretch across the cemetery streets so, worried about my infamous unpunctuality and time taken to get ready to go out, I thanked my companion and wishing him well headed back to the accom. 

Showered, shaved and pampered for our picnic we borrowed some wine glasses from the accommodation and smashed all but one of them in our backpack on the way to there. We came armed with champagne and the aforementioned cheese and meats and sat on the grass watching many successful proposals. Both the cheeses were soft, and one of the cheeses smelt and tasted so abhorrently it had to be removed and disposed of far away. As is common in many touristy spots, walking salesmen with ciggies, buckets of iced beer and champagne patrol the area. While we were stocked up to begin with, the champagne went down with the sun and before long we were flagging the gallic Willy Loman down and paying too much for his champagne; ice cold and brought direct to your lap, we were not protesting.  

Reading us well, our champagne salesman began to make half hourly stops past our bivouac, where he’d prosper consistently, albeit for less euros each time. One bottle went then came two then three, then four and many more and then it was 5 and we thought we’d probably had a good look at the Eiffel tower by now, surrendering to the sunrise. 

[f1-ferraero]

We're sort of on the same page, yeah, and I've really enjoyed this as well! It's nice to be able to have a level-headed and objective discussion about something despite actually having very different personal opinions about it. Hopefully we'll get more good racing in Baku and Singapore!

I fully agree with everything you said about McLaren. They're in a difficult position and it would make sense for them to prioritise Norris, but it's just more complicated than that. We'll have to wait and see what they decide to do.

"...which is why I’m baffled that McLaren haven’t used their fancy brainy strategists to just look at the table and go from there." Respectfully, this made me laugh a bit because Ferrari have seemingly sent all of their shitty strategists to McLaren this season. They CANNOT strategize for the life of them.

I knew when I compared the MCL38 to RB19 that it was a little bit of an exaggeration, sorry about that! It's very track dependent, but I do think it's quite close in most cases, especially since I also don't think either driver have maximised it on any occasion other than perhaps Zandvoort. The RB19 was dominant because Verstappen made it dominant, I think the same could have been true for the MCL38. BUT here's hoping it does NOT gets better. How dare you accuse me of being a McLaren fan (/j). I thought all the everything about my blog made it very clear where I stand, but if I doesn't I need to make some drastic changes.

ANYWAY, I think we've said all that needs to be said about Zandvoort. We have pretty much the same opinion about it: bad start but good drive otherwise. However I think we're just on opposite sides of whether it was an underrated or overrated performance, with you being a Norris fan and me being very tired of the British media bias lol

About the Monza start, the only part I have to comment on is the "double DNF if Norris hadn't backed out", because I don't think that's quite fair. It's not false, but it does make the overtake seem out of control or more aggressive than it actually was. It was a clean move, Piastri took the racing line and therefore claimed the right to the corner, which meant Norris had to concede the place. It's not really a big deal, but I see similar phrases all. the. time and it's really not that dramatic. And of course Oscar is going to prioritise himself if the team hasn't explicitly ordered anything else.

Okay, tyre degradation time! Your source isn't necessarily incorrect but it isn't the best. I really really hope this doesn't sound condescending, as that's definitely not my intention, but I wanted to write about this because I think it's very important.

Data doesn't exist in a vacuum—there's always context. Unless two drivers are on the exact same strategy and both are in clean air the data, while still factually correct, isn't fully representative. It needs to be adjusted for strategy. (I know I've seen similar graphs which are adjusted, and I can try to find them again if you're interested!)

Looking at that graph without context leads you to believe Ferrari had some of the worst tyre degradation, when actually they had among the best, which made the one stop possible. While Norris and Piastri both did two pit stops, their stint lengths weren't the same. Piastri's first two stints were longer and the last was very short. His degradation allowed him to extend the stints to get the benefit of track position and having fresher tyres at the end. Doing longer stints meant the degradation of those tyres was higher, while he still gained time by having a better average speed. A strategy adjusted graph would show both him and Ferrari as having better degradation. It's kind of similar to survivorship bias.

I'll add this picture again, just so you don't have to scroll up so far. This graph is from f1 tempo: the y-axis shows the lap time range and the x-axis shows the race lap number. Every dot shows the lap time by the driver on every lap (orange for Norris and white for Piastri). Yellow dots represent medium tyres and white dots represent hards. The spikes are the inlap and outlap of their pitstops.

We're not talking about any huge margins, but the data still shows that Piastri's average pace and degradation was marginally-to-noticeably better than Norris's this race. But like we've already established (lol) their performances relative to each other bounce back and forth, so it doesn't really matter beyond this specific race.

I'm sorry if I'm pushing this a lot but, like you said, there's been so much drama about it and I've seen people throw around the idea that "Oscar obviously wouldn't be capable of a one stop, but Norris probably would have" so much that others have started taking it as a fact. It just annoys me because the data doesn't support that claim, even if Norris would have had free air.

Anyway, I really did enjoy discussing this with you! I'd love to be mutuals with you because you seem like a really great person, but I'm not sure if you're going to like my blog because I am 100% a McLaren hater, have zero respect for Norris as a person and do not rate him very highly as a driver, and I am sometimes a lot louder and less polite about it, just so you know. I'll let you make the call of whether you want to deal with me on your dash or not😂

The commentators being like "oh Piastri compromised Lando's race by overtaking him🥺 I don't understand why McLaren would do that to him🥺 they need to swap places🥺"

THEYRE RACING DRIVERS????? THEYRE GONNA RACE???? The FUCK?

[clockwork-angels]

TLH Will/Jem Moments That Break My Heart (part 1/?)

Part 1: Chain of Gold

#1

James’s father, Will, had often told him about the patrols he used to do with his parabatai, Jem Carstairs—now James’s uncle Jem—back when they had battled demons nearly every night.

》 i dunno why but for some reason this brings me to tears

#2

I think this next one is the part everyone cried at. But I gotta say i literally had to close the book when i read it and then i wept for literally 10 minutes:

The night after they learned of Linette’s and Edmund’s deaths, Will had been sitting on the floor in the drawing room, Tessa in the overstuffed armchair behind him, and Lucie and James had been stretched upon the fireplace rug. Will’s back had been against Tessa’s legs as he stared unseeing into the fire. They had all heard the front doors open; Will had looked up when Jem came in, and Jem, in his Silent Brother robes, went over to Will and sat down beside him. He drew Will’s head against his shoulder, and Will held the front of Jem’s robes in his fists and he cried. Tessa bowed her head over both of them, and the three were united in adult grief, a sphere James could not yet touch.

#3

this one is just purely hilarious, but also imagine Will teasing Jem about 'how proud he is that his parabatai has finally found a sense of humour':

On one memorable occasion, Jem borrowed Matthew’s dog, Oscar Wilde, riled him up, and released him on an unsuspecting James during breakfast.

James thought some of Jem’s training ideas were deliberate pranks—Silent Brothers had the best poker faces he could imagine, after all. His father assured him that it wasn’t in Jem’s nature, and that however odd the training, he was sure it was intended sincerely.

#4

i love crying about both Jem/Will and James/Matthew after reading a single paragraph

Jem’s violin had pride of place—a Stradivarius carved of mellow wood, it rested in an open case atop a high table. James had seen his father come into this room just to touch the violin sometimes, a faraway look in his eyes. He wondered if he would do the same with Matthew’s belongings if one day, he lost his parabatai.

#5

laughing through the tears

The door opened, and Will stuck his head into the music room. He looked weary, his shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow, his shirt stained with tinctures and salve. Still, he smiled when he saw James and Jem. “Is everything all right?”

“Uncle Jem was worried about me,” said James. “But I am quite well.”

Will came up to his son and pulled him into a quick, rough hug. He said, “I am glad to hear it, Jamie bach. Gideon and Sophie have arrived, and to see them with Barbara—” He kissed the top of James’s head. “It does not bear thinking of.”

I should return to the infirmary, said Jem. There is much still for me to do.

Will nodded, releasing James. “I know Gideon and Sophie would feel better if you were the one tending Barbara. Not to insult Brother Shadrach, who I’m sure is an excellent and well-respected member of the Brotherhood.”

Jem shook his head, which was as close as he got to smiling, and the three of them left the music room.

#6

“The only equivalent in real life is memory,” Tessa said, looking up as Will Herondale came into the room, followed by Cousin Jem. “But memories can be bitter as well as sweet.”

#7

“Is it selfishly awful to worry that all this business will delay our becoming parabatai? I feel I will be a better Shadowhunter when it is done. Were you not one, after you became parabatai with Uncle Jem?”

“A better Shadowhunter and a better man,” said Will. “All the best of me, I learned from Jem and your mother. All I want for you and Cordelia is to have what I had, a friendship that shall shape all your days. And never to be parted.”

#8 Will being Will AKA Will seeking solace in Jem

Will had been angry at the world, and then gone to see Jem.

#9

Will wanting to immediately share the exciting news with Jem is something that can be so personal

A broad smile spread across Will’s face.

“Then we have no choice but to give our blessing too. Cordelia Carstairs,” he said, “the Carstairs and the Herondales will be bonded even more closely now. If James could have chosen his wife from all the women in all the worlds that are or ever were, I would wish for no other.”

Tessa laughed. “Will! You cannot compliment our new daughter only on the chance of her last name!”

Will was grinning like a boy. “Wait until I tell Jem—”

#10

Was it strange for Will, she wondered, to be aging and have Jem remain in appearance still a boy? Or when you loved someone, did you not notice these things, just as her parents saw no difference between themselves?

#11

any reminder that Jem and Will were parabatai brings me to tears

“But I did it for Cordelia!” she exclaimed, as her parents drew back, her mother seating herself on the bed beside Lucie, where she could hold her hand. “You would have done it for Jem, Papa, when you were parabatai.”

Will leaned back against a post of the bed. “You aren’t parabatai with Cordelia yet.”

#12

It was his father, but Will was not alone: Uncle Jem was with him, a noiseless presence in his drifting parchment robes. His hood was down, as it often was when he was inside the Institute. Will had told James many years ago that when Jem had first become a Silent Brother, he had not liked people to see his scars. It was strange to think of Uncle Jem having such feelings.

“Someone’s here to see you,” Will said, moving aside to let Jem pass into the room. He glanced from his son to his old parabatai.

#13

If you saw humanity as I can see it, Uncle Jem said. There is very little brightness and warmth in the world for me. There are only four flames, in the whole world, that burn fiercely enough for me to feel something like the person I was. Your mother, your father, Lucie, and you.

#14

“Will.” Tessa sank down beside him on the bed. “There is no war.”

She knew why he worried. For them, there had been war, and loss. Tessa’s brother, Nate. Thomas Tanner. Agatha Grant. Jessamine Lovelace, their friend, who now guarded the London Institute in ghostly form. And Jem, who they had both lost and kept.

(stay tuned for part 2 with Chain of Iron snippets and snippets from the Tessa/Will wedding short story)

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Patton and Monty at War: Unbelieving the unbearable rivalry.

Monty is trying to steal the show and with the assistance of Divine Destiny [Eisenhower] he may do so.

- General George S. Patton, on the Sicily Campaign, private diaries 16 July 1943

So every week I play my usual game of chess over a glass of wine with one of my neighbours in my Parisian apartment building. He’s a retired army general but remains active as a military historian and speaker. He’s curmudgeonly but one warms to him quickly as he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. He’s not a fan of women in the military but reluctantly concedes he would make an exception for me (besides who else could he play chess with?). We get on really well now because of the Covid lockdown this past year. We often have long discussions about military history and current politics until the bottle of wine is completely drained.

On one occasion he invited me to watch the 1969 classic war film, Patton, about the life of one of America’s greatest iconic World War Two generals, George S. Patton. It’s been years since I’ve seen it and I almost had forgotten how great the movie is with George C. Scott as Patton and Karl Malden as General Omar Bradley. We watched it in English and then discussed many things that came out of the film.

Hollywood and history usually do not mix. It is quite common for  filmmakers to take a historical subject and to distort it for their purposes and to dumb it down for entertainment purposes. In the case of the movie, Patton, there was no real attempt to distort the story of Patton. It was a fantastic and stirring Hollywood movie. Moreover it was an excellent study in character given Oscar worthy heft by the great George C. Scott as the crusty General George S. Patton. Francis Ford Coppola’s script was severely under-rated.

However there remain glaring inaccuracies such as Patton’s opening speech in the movie - admittedly a an iconic bit of cinema - but even this was based on his statements and captured the character of  the man, something even acknowledged by the Generals’ family.

Much  of the details of his role in the defeat of Germany are true. The only real omission was the lack of focus on Patton’s Lorraine Campaign, where he distinguished himself. There are some exaggerations in the movie and some minor distortions such as in the weather-prayer scene. In general,  the movie managed to produce a great overview portrayal of the  character and career of an extraordinary American leader.

The film does accurately relate the leading role played by Patton in the  liberation of Sicily. His daring use of armour was crucial in the defeat of the German army on the island.

However long after the film had ended I did think about one thing that irked me. And this was how the movie seemed to linger on the belief Patton was motivated by the desire to do better than General Montgomery, the victor  at El Alamein. Indeed the film probably reinforced the accepted conventional wisdom that these two driven and ambitious men hated each other.

There was a great personal rivalry between the two men.  They were both driven and wildly ambitious. The movie suggests that the rivalry between Montgomery and Patton was the main feature of the Sicilian Allied campaign and was perhaps a factor in why it ended so quickly with a  decisive Allied victory.

The rivalry was not as intense as the motion  picture suggests and the two men worked together when needed for the  good of the Allied cause.

Born two years apart, both were commissioned within a year of each other  and both were wounded in France in the First World War. Both men  encompassed very different but very valuable characteristics in combat:  Monty-careful and meticulous, Patton-dashing and diplomatic.   Despite  the differences, both generals demonstrated striking similarities:  commitment to their careers, a ruthless egotism, interesting when you  consider neither held superior command. This did not impede their desire  for the limelight and fame in warfare, arrogance and the manipulation  of colleagues in high places to advance their careers.  Both were  machiavellian in their own affairs and self-interested in their own  personal progression.

The great rivalries amongst the Allies that made a real imact were Marshall and Brooke over war policy, Nimitz and MacArthur over resources, Eisenhower and Montgomery over strategy; and then between Percival and MacArthur for incompetence,  Patton and O'Connor for aggressiveness, MacArthur and Clarke for vainglory,  (and possibly  Clarke and Wavell for the stupidity of letting defeated enemies escape),  were the issues that defined the war for the Western allies.

The idea  that a competition between Patton and Montgomery was more important is cute, but naive. I am not even sure where the idea comes from. 

Much is made of the bet between Patton and Montgomery over reaching Palermo in Sicily first, but in practical terms that was the only time in the war that Patton ever appeared on Montgomery's radar.

For the rest  of the war Monty was so much higher up the food chain than Patton that  he was unaware, or disinterested in Patton's opinions. Montgomery  was, by 1944, an experienced general who very successfully fought extensively in both combat and staff roles for 4 years throughout World  War One. (Patton got a combat command for a few weeks when the Germans  were already collapsing.) Montgomery led a division very successfully  through the Battle of France, and a corps through the crucial Battle of  Britain training and rebuilding years. He led an army in combat for two  years, through many successful battles both on defense and in attack.

By  1944 Patton had led a corps for a few months, and an army for a few weeks. For the very brief period of the Sicily compaign they were  theoretically equals in command, but probably only in Patton's mind. Montgomery saw Patton as an enthusiastic if amateurish old man but respected his aggressive boldness. Montgomery saw his HQ 'betting book' as a bit of fun (and was delighted when bet a  B17 by someone who should have known better).

When he and Patton met  and co-ordinated the Sicilian campaign Alexander seemed not interested in co-ordinating, Monty saw Palermo as a similar bit of fun to pursue, no bigger or smaller than the hundreds of other bets in the book.

Patton saw it, as he saw anything relating to his persona, as the most vitally important challenge of his whole life...up until the next one.  Montgomery lost a bet and moved on to the next challenge. Patton won but  didn't. (Or at least that is what bad writers have tried to suggest. I  think he moved straight on to the next challenge anyway.)

That  was the last time Monty and Patton were in direct competition, no matter what revisionists or romantics would say.

The next time Patton was  allowed in the field he was one of half a dozen army commanders in  Monty's Normandy army group, and, familiarly, he did not arrive until  the Germans in Normandy were already collapsing. Very soon afterwards Eisenhower split off Bradley's army group, and Monty had no control, nor much interest, in what Patton was up to thereafter.

The  romantics like to suggest that thereafter Monty railed against Patton's supplies, and that Patton railed against Montgomery's caution. The truth is less foolish for both of them. In fact Montgomery railed  against Eisenhower's broad front strategy regardless of which of the  other sub-commanders was benifitting (to the point of Montgomery making  an offer to serve under Bradley as long as someone got single control to  pursue a single strategy). He railed against the diversion of resources  anywhere not at the main point where a thrust might have achieved early  victory.

Leaving aside whether that victory could have happened,  Montgomery's beef was with Eisenhower first, his appalling chief of supply Lee second, fellow Army Group Commanders who couldn't control the excesses of their subordinates like Bradley (and to a lesser extent) Devers third, and only then with the several army commanders who each tried to do their own thing.

In practical terms Montgomery seemed more appalled by the negative effects of the incompetence of Hodges (1st US Army,) and  the obnoxiousness of General De Gaulle's orders to 'his' army (French First Army), and perhaps even  the ineffectiveness of his own subordinate Crerar  (Canadian 1st army) , than he did by Patton's enthusiasms. There is  hardly a mention of Patton in his diaries through this period, compared  to several comments on Bradley and De Gualle, and endless ones on  Eisenhower.

Patton too is being maligned by the pretense that his  war was taken up with a vain competition with Montgomery. Patton, like  Montgomery, was totally concerned with the main issue of defeating  Germany. But unlike Montgomery, he did not have Brooke  -  the Chief of Imperial General Staff - to rely on for support against  Eisenhower's broad front strategy.

Patton too was convinced that this was the wrong way to go, but to get his version of a thrust (with him at  the front) happening, he had to be a bit more manipulative than Montgomery.

Every word Patton used to wheedle and manipulate  support, or at least a blind eye to what he was doing, was designed to  get more resources from his superiors. Indeed, if he couldn't get them from Eisenhower, he was willing to steal them wherever he could, and  then get Bradley to pretend to not know what he was doing. In this he was quite willing to encourage Bradley's inferiority complex in relation  to Montgomery, and to happily manipulate Bradley into tantrums to get  what they both wanted, but it seems likely that Patton was more  interested in getting his way by making his superiors compete with  Montgomery, than in competing with Montgomery himself.

Patton is  actually a more complex and clever character than the romantics give him credit for. His 'kill them even if they try to surrender' speeches in  Sicily were part of his stage management of troops, not part of his innate personality. HIs 'us against the world' propaganda was more  manipulative, not so much like Bradley's inferiority complex. He wanted to win, and he would use anything to get what he needed to win, even  ramping up his superiors to distrust their allies. But his genuine competitiveness with Montgomery at this stage was less about him and Montgomery, and more about him and how he could maneouvre others to  support him. He would have shown the same level of competitiveness, and  the same willingness to undermine, any competitor at this point, British, French, Russian or even American.

Montgomery on the  other hand only saw Patton as one more junior general syphoning supplies  from an inadequate source. Montgomery was in competition with  Eisenhower for control, and possibly with Bradley for resources. Minor  army commanders in other people's army groups only registered on his horizon if he could get their armies assigned to his army group.

Just for amusement, it might be fun to consider how Montgomery and Patton might have worked together?

Montgomery was notoriously superb to serve under, no matter what your nationality.  British, Australian, New Zealander, South African, Indian, Canadian, French, Polish, and American troops who served under him  were all very happy to do so. So were their generals. Bradley certainly learned more  about being a field commander from a few months of Montgomery's distant mentoring than from anything Eisenhower ever did for him in their much closer relationship.

There is no doubt that Montgomery preferred effective subordinates to ineffective ones, and it seems possible that Patton would have made a preferable subordinate to Crerar or Bradley in his mind.

As for Patton, he would have served anyone who got him what he wanted. Had Montgomery offered him the chance to spearhead the attack into Germany, there is virtually no doubt that Patton would have  jumped at the chance.

Patton was not the racist that Bradley or Eisenhower were, and was happy to have black troops. He was not the American supremacist that Roosevelt or MacArthur were, and worked well with others (as long as they let him have enough lime light).

Had Montgomery been left as land forces commander, there is little doubt that he would have used Patton's aggression in a way that would have  made Patton much happier than Eisenhower's broad front strategy ever allowed.

It is fun to imagine Montgomery as land forces commander using Patton's 3rd Army in conjunction with British 2nd to leapfrog ahead at top speed into Germany. The best British tactics were never the  broad front strategy that the worst American's like Marshall and Eisenhower fancied. They were always the 'hold the enemy, crumble the  enemy, breakthrough the enemy, and pursue with as much force as fast and  far as possible' skills that had worked since the development of  mechanised warfare in 1918. (As demonstrated by the Germans in Poland  and France and Russia, the British and Germans in North Africa, the  Japanese and British in Asia, and the Russians in Eastern Europe.)

Montgomery would have used his traditional two corps up, one back, one resting deployment, adapted to armies, to keep up the momentum. Patton's preferred tactics were almost exactly the same, and he and his 3rd  Army would have fit it like a glove into Montgomery's thrust strategy.

Personally  I think that the limited reality behind their competitiveness paid trumps in Sicily, and I wish that it had been repeated in France. Patton could not have been a worse Army group commander than Bradley was, and would almost certainly have been better.

It is amusing to think of Patton and Montgomery effectively conspiring to destroy the broad front strategy while they got on with winning the war in the best spirit of competition. Although I have a sneaking suspicion that one of Patton's biographers was right to suggest that by 1945 he had suffered a few too many hits on the head, there is little doubt that he would have been almost as valuable to the Allied cause in Bradley's place against Eisenhower's policies directly, as he would have under Montgomery's army  group. That might have been a useful version of rivalry.

[brian-in-finance]

Interview: MPB meets ‘Belfast’ stills photographer Rob Youngson

Written and directed by Kenneth Branagh, Belfast features stars including Dame Judi Dench and Jamie Dornan. We caught up with Rob Youngson @rob_youngson_photography, who worked as the unit stills photographer for the multi Oscar-nominated film, including best picture. In this interview, Rob tells us about his on-set experience and shares his advice for aspiring film still photographers. Over you to, Rob.

MPB: Could you tell us more about yourself and your creative background?

RY: I found photography as a teenager. I was hooked the moment I realised that a photo pass meant getting into gigs for free. University followed, where I studied lighting design for theatre. Modules covered art history, colour theory and how light can help tell stories. Useful stuff for a future photographer.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

I realise now, how privileged I was to grow up in a home where my curiosity was encouraged. And a home that had cameras for me to pick up and use. I started on digital, I think it was a 1-megapixel Pentax. My photography practice took its biggest leap forward when I learned how to shoot on film in my early twenties. I went freelance as a unit stills photographer over five years ago. Before that, I worked in camera rentals. The job entailed cleaning filters and lenses, formatting cards and loading vans. It was like finishing school for being in the film industry. I learnt the kit, met great cinematographers and managed to get on set. I used my leave to work on short films and build my portfolio.

MPB: What advice would you have for aspiring film stills photographers? What makes a great film stills photographer?

RY: There are so many great stills photographers that I look up to. People such as Niko Tavernise @nikotavernise or Kimberley French @kimberleyfrench. They consistently take images that convey both emotion and story. These images almost always have a clear point of tension, be it between two actors or between the actor and their surroundings.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

For aspiring film stills photographers, know that there’s not one route into this career. That's a strength. Every photographer has a different story. Don’t read about my journey, and think that because your starting place is different, it isn’t an achievable goal. It can be. To do well in this job, you have to be able to read the mood in the room, to read people and leave your ego at the door. Film sets are time-pressured. Hundreds of people are working long hours to make everything work. Sometimes that means the photographer’s job is to know when to step back and give the crew and actors space. You should try to have the technical skills of photography down to second nature. That way, you can focus your energy on everything else.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

My main piece of advice is to treat every job you do as though it’s your dream job, however small it seems. Arrive early, with charged batteries, formatted memory cards and waterproofs and then enjoy yourself! There’ll be hard days, but every so often I take a step back and realise I’m part of something bigger. Creating something that may move people that I will never meet. Be amazed by that fact, because it is amazing.

MPB: Could you give us an insight into the day in the life of a film stills photographer? Is it as glamorous as it looks?

RY: Glamour isn't the first word that comes to mind! British filmmaking is more likely to find me on a night shoot, up to my knees in mud, in the Essex estuary for eight hours at -5°C [23°F] . There are rare occasions when I end up in a hot country, being served brilliant local food, working with fantastic actors surrounded by gorgeous scenery—those days feel a little more glamorous. A few summers ago, in the UK, we had a scorching day whilst filming Blithe Spirit. The shoot was out on a river, and the crew all jumped in at lunch for a swim. Catering set up on the riverbank and served us a BBQ, that was pretty special—not glamorous per se, but memorable.

A typical day might start with an 08:00 call time. But it could be 05:00 or 21:00, depending on the day. Say it’s 08:00, I’d arrive at where we are filming at 07:15, park, grab some breakfast from catering and find a spot for my kit to safely live. Peli Cases are a must for me! I’ll introduce myself to the 1st AD, the boom operators and the 1st AC, among other key people I need to work with. I'll get my bearings on set, and the day begins. Actors rehearse with the director, 1st AD, cinematographer and script supervisor. Then there is a ‘crew show’, we get to see the action for that scene. Lighting and all the other departments get to work.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

During takes, I’ll place myself out of the actor's eye-lines, and out of the camera's line of sight. Sometimes, there’ll be three or more cameras shooting at once, which doesn't leave much choice as to where to go and may dictate much of the composition. I’ll shoot between takes as well. Photographing the sets, props and other details.

My day on set will finish around 19:30–19:00, and then I’ll get home or to where I’m staying and backup the images. On average, I’ll shoot between 400–600 images on a normal day, and 600+ on a day with stunts. I usually deliver between 150–250 images per day to publicity. I’ll straighten the horizon on images if necessary. Then I’ll pick my favourite 10–12 images to colour-grade properly and add those to a highlights folder.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

RY: On the set of Belfast, my kitbag consisted of a Nikon Z7 and Nikon Z6, four 128GB XQD cards and Sony reader, ten spare batteries, plus two Nikon chargers, 70-200mm f/2.8 S lens, 24-70mm f/2.8 F Mount with FTZ Adaptor, Sigma Art 24mm f/1.4 with FTZ Adaptor, Nikon 85mm f/1.4 G lens, Leica 50mm f/2 Summicron with Z-mount adaptor (Non Apo), Hasselblad XPAN, Nikon FE2 with 50mm f/2.8, Nikon FM II with 28mm f/2.8, Gitzo Systematic Tripod, Spiderholster Twin system on a Panavision quick-release belt, NexttoDI NPS-10 Field Backup Drive, Peli Case Air 1535 and a Billingham 555.

The main quality an on-set camera needs is a silent shutter. A few years ago, before mirrorless cameras, I had to shoot with my DSLRs inside a foam and plastic case called a blimp to block out the sound of the shutter. I made my first blimp out of a small Peli Case, some foam and a remote shutter release. These were awkward and heavy. Having a silent shutter on mirrorless cameras makes life a lot easier. Banding and rolling shutter have been a problem until recently. The advent of the Nikon Z9 and the top tier Sony mirrorless cameras has pretty much solved both problems. Using a camera for 10+ hours a day, ergonomics are critical. That’s one of the reasons I favour Nikon over Sony, the big grip, good buttons and a familiar menu system all appeal to me.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

MPB: Take us behind the scenes on the shoot—how long was the shoot? Where was it filmed? The film deals with a sensitive time in Northern Ireland’s history but in a beautifully uplifting way, did that have an effect on the mood on the set?

RY: The shoot was six weeks, in total. That’s short, a full-length feature is usually anything from 3–6+ months. A small film unit went to Belfast for a week of shooting exteriors. The rest of the film, all the acting, was filmed in Farnborough. Production designer Jim Clay led his team in a herculean effort to build beautiful sets, including a full-sized Belfast street.

Kenneth Branagh wrote the film during the first lockdown. He has spoken about how the feeling of life turning upside that we all experienced in the first lockdown threw him back to what he felt as a nine-year-old boy when he first experienced violence in Belfast. There were moments that were difficult to watch. Certain scenes left the crew reeling and needing a moment. But those scenes were interspersed with scenes that show the Belfast sense of humour. A wit and levity that has come to define the place and the people.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

I felt a responsibility to do the best work possible, to do justice to the real people we were representing. I took great inspiration from the Magnum photographer Phillip Jones Griffiths. His work in Northern Ireland helped highlight the absurdity of normal life continuing under a strong military presence. One well-publicised image of Phillip’s shows a woman mowing the front lawn, while a soldier lies in wait in the same garden. During filming, I was able to capture a couple of images I felt paid homage to his work. In one, I lined myself up to photograph a tank coming down the street, but through a child’s pram. A second was capturing the moment the soldiers in the street helped the family move a sofa into the house.

The first day on set was jubilant, most of us hadn’t worked since lockdown. We were PCR tested every day, wore masks and visors, hand-washing stations, one way systems, temperature checks. There were big smiles behind the masks. Most of the team had worked together on previous films, so it was lovely to come together again. There was still a sense of focus and seriousness. We all had to be vigilant about Covid to see this film through to completion, and we all had to pull off our best work. That atmosphere pushed me to create work I was proud of.

MPB: You’ve worked for some iconic clients, including Netflix, Fox and Disney. What projects were these? What advice would you have for getting noticed by such iconic brands?

RY: For Netflix, there is a new series coming out this spring called Heartstopper. Based on the graphic novels by Alice Oseman, Heartstopper tells the story of two boys who meet at a British grammar school and develop feelings for each other. What follows is a beautiful and thoughtful story of love, life, and friendship. For Fox, I shot stills for Death On The Nile, released in cinemas in the UK on February the 11th. As the sequel to Murder on The Orient Express, it sees the return of Kenneth Branagh as Detective Hercule Point.

To be honest, the films I love working on the most are those with the best scripts, best casts and the loveliest crews. That might be for one of the big players, or it might be for a more indie company.

One of my favourite shows to work on last year was the UK adaptation of Call My Agent. That will be coming to your screens later in 2022.

My advice is to treat every job as though it’s important. Work on stories you believe in or with people you enjoy working with and persist. If you do that, and your work is good, then those brands will start to take notice.

People are leaving film school right now with stories to tell but without big budgets. In a few years’ time, some of those people will be Oscar-nominated and making films for these big brands. Go and meet your people, talk about film, art, life, experience everything you can. Try not to see a freelance career as though it’s a ladder, there isn’t usually a linear progression. In my experience, what can at first seem a setback often opens out into an opportunity.

MPB: Your work is split between capturing shots to be used as promotional material and behind the scenes shots, is there a type you prefer and why?

RY: Interesting question—behind-the-scenes shots only make up 5–10% of what I shoot in a day. I love capturing unique images from behind-the-scenes; incredible sets or one-off prosthetics. Growing up, I watched the behind-the-scenes featurettes of The Lord of the Rings constantly. That first switched me on to the world behind the camera. I know that capturing the hard work of people behind the camera holds a certain fascination for many of us. In general, though, it’s the interaction between actors in a scene that tells the most compelling story as to why someone should go and see a film.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

MPB: Belfast features some royalty of British cinema, including Jamie Dorran and Judi Dench, and is directed by Kenneth Branagh. What is it like to work with stars like these? Did you ever find it intimidating?

RY: An important part of my job is to not get starstruck. Or, at least, not change how I behave around people based on preconceptions of their celebrity. I'm privileged to work with these people, I have massive respect for their work. I’ve been lucky enough to work with Judi Dench several times now. Judi has a fervent wit and an effervescence, she is unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. The first time I worked with Judi, I thought “this is it, my career peaks here, I can’t beat this moment”. I found out, through good luck, that the only way to top that was to work with her again and again. Executing the images, I apply the same pressure to myself whoever is in front of the camera. It's important to respect the vulnerability that an actor has to go through to perform a scene. Watching Ken direct is a masterclass every single day. One of the greatest things about my job is being an observer. I love to see the ways in which different directors get the best from those around them. On Belfast, Ken worked with his long-term collaborator, cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos. They communicate with an effective shorthand that's built out of trust. They are also both very well researched before arriving to set. I hope I get to work with them again because there's still so much I have to learn.

MPB: With the vast majority of the film being in black-and-white, it has meant your work has followed the same style. Are you pleased with the outcome?

RY: I wish I could shoot in black-and-white more often! I love it. I shot rolls of Ilford FP4 and HP5 during the first week. I took scans of those images as references to create a series of presets/styles within capture one and within Nik Efex Silver Efex Pro 4. Likewise, I created a custom black and white preset in the Nikon Z6 and Z7 so that I could compose in the digital viewfinder in black and white—another win for mirrorless! I would drop in to the DIT on set to see screen-grabs from the film. I’d be noting whether the shadows were going all the way to black, or whether the greys were more silver or flatter.

I shot everything in RAW, and I did a colour edit of all the images as well. The costumes and hair and makeup by Charlotte Walter charlottewaltercostume.com and Wakana Yoshihara @wakana_yoshihara were incredible. The colours and textures translated beautifully to black-and-white. Though I hope that some more of the colour images might one day get released. If I did another project with a lot of black-and-white, then I’d consider hiring a Leica M Monochrom to see where that would take my work because I love rangefinders.

MPB: Working on a project this size means your work gets huge exposure, any film nominated for an Oscar becomes one of the most talked-about films of the year—what does it feel like to see your work on billboards or the side of buses?

RY: It’s remarkable. I always get a buzz from friends and family sending me pictures of themselves showing where in the world they are seeing my work. It’s special, knowing that for many people their first moment interacting with the story of Belfast, or any other project, is my work. That means I’ve done justice to the script and the film in helping bring an audience to it. Seeing a billboard or a magazine cover always reminds me how incredible the marketing teams are. The graphic designers, who take my images and elevate them into something more, definitely don’t get enough praise.

MPB: What are your plans for the future?

RY: I plan to keep working on stories I love. Keep improving and keep a firm lid on my ‘gear acquisition syndrome’. More and more, I’m approached with questions about how to do what I do. I want to be able to give useful and clear insights—I don’t always have time to respond in detail whilst out on shoots though. That’s why I am planning to launch a YouTube channel and a Patreon this spring. I’ll be able to offer more insights, gear reviews from on the road, and more opportunities for Q&As.

Thanks, Rob. You can see more of Rob Youngson’s work on Instagram @rob_youngson_photography and at robyoungsonphotography.com. Or, read more interviews on the MPB blog.

Note: links to various names and to photographic equipment mentioned in this story ⬇️

https://www.mpb.com/en-uk/blog/article/12863/

Remember… I realise now, how privileged I was to grow up in a home where my curiosity was encouraged. And a home that had cameras for me to pick up and use. — Rob Youngson

[nexyra]

James Ironwood, for character ask? 👀

Aaaa thank you so much for the ask ♡ More rambling incoming !! Sorry for the wait btw, I've been both pretty busy and tired ;;

If you hate James Ironwood and don't wanna hear one good thing about him tap out now please ღ

My fav ship(s) for the character

I am not a super big shipper when it comes to James, but there are still some I like more than others soo here goes :

I think Ironwitch is a pretty good one. It's not necessarily a ship I'd search content for but I think these two would work well together ! Glynda is stern and honest and a no-nonsense kind of woman. She has the strenght to stand up to James when he slips or gets too stubborn when faced with the high stakes. At the same time, we've been shown that she cares for him and she knows he's only trying to do what's best for people. She has faith in him but also the ability to stand at his side as an equal. She seems to be the more steadfast of Ozpin's circle : loyal, you know you can trust her, and she will not crumble. This is the kind of personnality that I think James both admire and feel safe with. And the other way around, I think James is a good match for Glynda too. On a day to day basis, he's serious enough to not annoy here, but he's also a softie in some aspects and that's a nice combination to smooth out Glynda's edges.

Ironqrow is a completely different dynamic. The "we're annoying each other" dynamic is not one I'm particularly interested in usually xD But these two certainly had strong & interesting moments so it's a pretty valid ship !! Despite how they might butt heads because of the difference in their upbringing they (prior to V8) clearly trusted each other with their life. Even if Qrow jokes about shooting himself if he had to be one of James' man, when everything goes to shit there is no doubt in his mind that James wasn't responsible. Similarly, while James talks of shooting Qrow for his misbehaviour, when push comes to shove and we meet a tired Ironwood, run ragged by the pressure he's under... the only thing he does is hug him and reiterates how glad he is to see him. So again, they clearly have a lot of faith and trust in the other, and that's solid ground for a relationship.

My least favorite ship(s) for the character

Same spiel as always, shipping kids and adults is a big no from me; so any ships between Ironwood and RWBYJNOR can qualify here. That said, among the less uncomfortable ones, here are those I don't really like

This one is again because I love their relationship but platonically only, I'm talking of Winter Soldier. The reading I like best is not that Ironwood is Winter's Jacques 2.0, nor that he groomed her; but that he was an important father figure in her life. Protective and caring, who tried to help her escape with what he knew. I don't see James recruiting Winter as a way to gain a strong ally. But rather that Winter wanted to detach herself from her family name, and make something worthwhile of herself all on her own. And that the military is what Ironwood knows and understand, so naturally it's a career he'd see as a good path. Just like Winter then proposed it to Weiss. I like to think they care about each other a LOT and they're their own tight family in between the lines, even if professionalism might throw a wrench into it. For short I love them together but not romantically please =)

I don't know if there's a ship name for this, but Salem x James Ironwood would be a big nope from me too... In general, let's just assume I ship Salem with nobody because abuse.

My fav & least fav platonic relationship(s) for the character

Fav platonic relationship would be (have been because we dont talk about V8?) with Winter. Fooor the reasons I've explained above I suppose x) I (again) love the trust they had in one another and the quiet support.

There was also his relationship with Oscar that I really liked during V7, although it has been soured a bit by the (valid) reading from some people that Ironwood sought out Ozpin a lot through Oscar, and given his identity issues it is not ground for a greatly healthy relationship. Their interactions were still very intersting though ♡ I consider Oscar to be the kid who went at trying to appease James' fear or make him reconsider his decisions the best way. There was true understanding and hope for a working relationship here. I do feel that Oscar put in more work than James however (emotionally) and I wish there had been pay-back instead of a gunshot.

For my least fav relationship ? Probably Robyn or Watts ? Robyn was always very antagonistic toward Ironwood since their priorities are so different. And I overall just don't really like her after V7 so there are very few relationships with her I'm interested in (the exception is her ship with Fiona I think it's cute). Meanwhile, Watts is just a petty asshole hell bent on ruining Ironwood because he didn't pick his project. I'm not very interested in hate relationships, and since theirs wasn't deeply explored anyway, it's even more the case here. Their fight was great though, one of my favorite RWBY fights !

My favorite thing about the character

Well this was completely proven wrong by V8 buuut as of V7 I liked that he was a deconstruction of the military general (dictator) trope. Sooo you can guess how i feel about V8 X) In general among RWBY, several of my fav are fav BECAUSE they look like one trope but also have key differences that from the get go make the character stray away from said trope. For example I'm not a fan of the princess tsundere archetype at all, but I loooved Weiss in V1 BECAUSE she was extra-willing to listen and change her mind, and you could very easily tell that it was her upbringing speaking more than herself in most occasions.

Similarly, I wasn't a big fan of Ironwood before V7. I didn't hate him you know and he wasn't lower than most characters in my Tier list but I also didn't particularly care. But you know what ? I've aaaalways had a really soft spot for the "angsty angry traumatized teen". And RWBY made the mistake of extending that soft spot to "tired adults trying their best" (only to repeatedly beat them up/make them villains after making me care about them but what can you do uh)

Soo in general, I loved that Ironwood was trying so hard. I loved that he was tired and in over his head but learning and listening and trying to do good and be better despite his fears. I liked that he told his entourage about Salem and was loyal. I liked that he cared about helping the people above his own image and the way people perceived him. I liked that you could tell this was a terrible situation all around, and his decisions WERE questionnable but we could SEE that he meant WELL and was genuinely trying so hard despite how scared and tired he was.

My biggest criticism for the character

Well this won't be a surprise but in general I just wished he had stayed a morally grey character we were allowed to feel for instead of a cartoon black villain. I didn't need James to be THE Hero or anything like this despite some accusations levelled at those who like him. Him becoming one of RWBY's antagonist is honestly fine by me ! It is interesting. But I'd have preferred they kept him ambiguous and trying in his own way. (And smart because V8 Ironwood was dumb af)

I can be a tad overprotective of his character since he's just... so despised, so I think that I have inadvertently distanced myself from any of his flaws... somehow like "people are already yelling all of them so I don't need to add to this shit show" you know ? skjfkd But I KNOW he has them and it would still have been good to develop his flaws, just... not like that

But yea I'd have liked it if V8 Ironwood DID diverge from RWBYJNORQ and became an antagonist but not an iredeemable villain. LIKE,, we redeemed Hazel and Emerald and IRONWOOD is where the writers draw the line by saying "nope this one is rotten" ?? What ?

When was their writing at the peak according to me (ex : best season)

V7 definitely ! Ironwood carried V7 so hard haha. His character was fleshed out and given nuance and made to struggle and evolve and I loved him in that volume.

A song I think fits them & why

Hunger • Monsters & Men Human • Rag'n'Bone Man Way down we go • Kaleo Beekeeper • Keaton Henson Thistle and weeds • Mumford and Sons Castle of Glass • Linkin Park It's all so incredibly loud • Glass Animals

A headcanon to make up about them

His metal parts impact his metabolism so Ironwood is terrible at holding his alcohool and very little manages to knock him out. He's a workaholic. His low tolerence for alcohool is a great tool whn friends need to put him to sleep.

His joints crack and hurt in the cold, his metal parts as well and they are an hassle in the sand. James like to keep his room temperature warmer than the average atlasian because of this, otherwise he has to spend 30 min every morning simply unwiding muscles to move around efficiently.

He's not a good singer but has a nice low voice for telling stories. If he had kids, he'd probably avoid lullabies but compensate with bedtimes stories.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

As always, I'm kind of reflecting along the way as I write this, and one thing I'm thinking right now is... Doesn't it take away from the atlas arc message ITSELF to just pile up so many "standard bad guy" stuff on Ironwood ? Like, I wanna ask... why do we hate him ? Is he an antagonist because he lets fear get the best of him ? Because he's a classist who doesn't care about Mantle like some fans argue ? Because he's too stubborn and wants to be THE hero ? Because he doesn't listen to others ? Because he abandonned Mantle ? Because he kills peopke left and right ? Because he wanted to bomb a city ? I think you might see where I'm going with this : his status as villain is kind of messy. V8 just kept piling-up flaws and villainous actions onto Ironwood with no concern for whether this was a lenght he would go to (using the certainty that he would go to any lenghts to enact his plans), ,or whether these were one of the initial flaws/failings that led to his "fall" as an antagonist. What lesson is Ironwood supposed to learn ? Personally the very first time I yelled at my screen "No ! Why would the writers choose that ?" is when Ironwood shot Oscar. When answering criticism against medias, many people tend to look at it only through the lense of "well it makes sense in universe" or as if there were no other ways for the story to devolve. But at the end of the way, everything in a story is a choice from the writer even if it is influenced by the characters' personnalities. If I took the scene where Ironwood shoots Oscar, someone might tell me "he's crippled by his PTSD, he COULD do this." Maybe, that's a reading I can somewhat understand at least. But the writers have the power to NOT put his character in such a position. When I saw the wreck that was V7 finale, I ranted to my bestfriend about it and at no point did i say "why did Ironwood do that", I said "why did the writers make him shoot Oscar, the only point narratively would be to make irredeemable" Aaaand that's what they went for and I obviously didn't care for it. So if I had to rewrite it; I would have kept Ironwood's "mistakes" more focused. If he's wrong because he wants to abandon Mantle, because he's (understandably) scared and doesn't want to take risks; then stay focused on that. It's what makes RWBY leave, and out of all his V8 actions that's really the only thing RWBY needed to tell the whole world he wasn't an ally anymore apparently. - Don't make him shoot Oscar point blank, instead Oscar can simply fall because he flinches away from Ironwood's outburst; and a distraught/guilty Ironwood can decide that he doesn't have the time or capacity to help because of the tense situation. (Killing and not saving someone don't hold the same moral weight at all). - Don't make him kill people left and right or bomb cities, maintain the flaw of Ironwood struggling with his PTSD and his fear and not being able to take risks. - Don't paint him as a black villain, and eventually write V8 in such a way that RWBYJNORQ show taking risks might lead to a bigger victory, which was the volume's theme anyway. For example, following Oscar's destruction of the whale, a growth can occur that would bring back together the two anti-Salem factions : Oscar's risk put Atlas out of harm's way, which leads to Ironwood seeing that maybe there WAS a way to save Mantle as well as Atlas despite Salem's presence and he might have jumped the gun too quickly because of his fears. I'm not sure, I haven't thought about this extensively honestly but I hope you see what I mean. I think it would have been more focused & more in-character to focus Ironwood's failings on his fear; and the fact that he cares for the people and the greater good sometimes at the cost of the individuals. The idea that by sacrificing individuals too much you forget the people you're fighting for in the first place, could have been interesting to dig deeper into. Keep to the idea that Ironwood is somewhat disensitized to the individuals suffering for the sake of the greater good, instead of making him just

callous & uncaring.

My guess for their MBTI/Enneagram

I think pre-V8 Ironwood was an unconventionnal ENFJ. Aka, the type of character no one would type ENFJ because they go by stereotypes and Fe stereotypes are just enneagram 2 everywhere (aka nice, kind, helpful) whereas Ironwood has an enneagram tritype very common among xxTJs so that's what he looks/behaves like, but the way he thinks (what's best for the people, ethical values derived from an Atlasian upbringing) align more with Fe cognitively I think I'm going with ENFJ 6w5 1w2 3w4

Starting from V8 though, Ironwood veered clearly into ENTJ territory (types aren't supposed to change but I wouldn't say RWBY is the most consistent media when it comes to characters' personnalities)

One aspect that I think would be nice to delve deeper into ?

I understand why they didn't care to, but it'd have been interesting to get a few backstory hints for Ironwood. How did he lose half his body ? How did Oz recruit him ? Or some pieces about his upbringing ?

[merakiaes]

Claim Me - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Let me know what you think and please send in more requests xx

Wordcount: 2460

Summary: Spooky has a crush on you and comes clean about it by claiming you in front of everyone when another Santo tries to get with you and he gets jealous.

The day of Spooky’s annual end of the summer party had come and the backyard of the Diaz residence was bustling with mingling people. 

Most of them except Mario and a few other exceptions were Santos and their rucas, and you were sure you had seen Cesar and his friends lurking around behind the fence a while ago too.

You were neither a Santo nor one of their rucas, but having been Spooky’s best friend since you were mere children made you an honoree guest to pretty much every get-together he hosted.

On any other day, you weren’t a very big party-person. You couldn’t hold your alcohol even if you tried and more often than not ended up either getting nauseous and going home early or passing out before the night was even close to being over.

But tonight… tonight you were looking forward to letting your hair down and having some fun. More specifically, you were looking forward to getting some action after the guy you had been seeing for the past three weeks had ran away screaming two days prior courtesy of your over-protective best friend.

No matter how good-mannered and respected the guys you would be seeing were, Oscar would always scare them away in some way or another. 

Most times you didn’t even know what he told them seeing as he always pounced on them when you weren’t present, and when you would ask, neither them nor him would say.

The guys would only tell you they weren’t ready for something serious right now or that they needed some time to figure themselves out and that they promised to call, but shocker, they never did. And Oscar… Oscar wouldn’t tell you shit, only smirk and shrug.

To a start, you only figured it was because he was being an overly protective best friend and that he didn’t want to see you get hurt by falling in love with the wrong person. But when he started putting his nose into your one night stands too, where no feelings whatsoever were involved, you had started to get suspicious.

Either way, it was getting tiring not to get what you wanted because he was being an ass and kept getting in the way, and you were adamant on not leaving alone tonight.

Mario hadn’t wasted any time in making a move on you at the start of the night, and his game was strong. He was charming, good-looking and you had known him for a long time so you knew he would be good to you.

But even though you were only looking for a no-strings-attached fuck for the night, he had just gotten dumped by Angelica and you weren’t about to be his rebound. He needed to sort himself out.

Luckily, he got the hint pretty quickly and left to call Angelica, again, leaving you open for everyone else. And it hadn’t taken long for someone to slide in beside you where you were sitting in one of the sofas.

Carlos was a relatively new Santo, having been jumped in only a few weeks ago. He was Sad Eyes’ cousin so he hadn’t had to do much to prove himself, basically being a Santos legacy.

He was a year older than you but he was shy, not even close to being as brave as Spooky, Mario and his cousin when it came to women. However, alcohol seemed to change that completely as he had been shamelessly flirting with you for the past twenty minutes.

And you were enjoying it, even though you briefly found yourself thinking there was someone you would rather be in his spot. 

It was an all too familiar and often reoccurring thought and just like every other time it entered your head, you forced it to the back of your mind and locked it away, focusing on the man sitting in front of you.

“Man, why you gotta look so fine all the time, (Y/N)? I can barely keep my hands to myself over here.” Carlos flirted, his arm resting on the back of the sofa behind you.

You returned his flirty behavior with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Who says you have to?” You questioned, touching the collar of his green and black flannel and leaning closer to his face. “You can touch me all you want.”

He bit down on his lip, and you watched as his eyes traveled from your eyes and down to your lips. “And risk getting beat up by Spooky?” He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous game to play, mami.”

Raising an eyebrow, your smirk widened. “You’re a Santo.” You purred. “You shouldn’t be scared of taking a little risk.”

He hummed, leaning even closer, his eyes still flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You make a good point.” He answered, smirking, and finally began leaning in.

You wasted no time in following his example, tilting your head upwards to hurry the process up, but just as your lips were about to meet, there was a tug on the back of his shirt, and just like that he was gone again.

Your glare instantly found Oscar who was now standing behind him, but he didn’t even look at you, glaring down at Carlos who was now looking like he was about to piss himself.

“You, get out of my sight.” Oscar ordered him, and after sparing you one final glance, Carlos stood up and walked off to where his cousin was chilling at the other side of the backyard, leaving only you and Oscar.

The latter was now looking right at you with a distasteful look in his eyes and nodded his head to a more secluded corner, away from all the other people. “You, over there. Now.”

You rolled your eyes at his bossy tone, but he left no time for you to argue, already starting to walk away from you with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You stood up begrudgingly and followed behind him, watching bitterly as he leaned his head down to light his cigarette.

The two of you came to a stop in the corner he had pointed out and he instantly turned to you, staring you down. “You ain’t no zorra, better stop making it seem like you are before you start something you can’t finish.”

He took a drag of the cigarette and you raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the fence behind you.

“What, you gonna stop me from getting laid now, too?” You asked, clicking your tongue. “Talk about coitus interruptus.”

He raised an eyebrow to match your own, looking awfully amused. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

You snorted through your nose, narrowing your eyes at him. “It’s a fancy word for cockblocker, estúpido.” You said, but could feel the corners of your lips twitching. “I thought you were supposed to be smart, Mr. Straight-A-Honor-Roll-Student.”

He gave you a playful smile, taking another drag of the cigarette and you watched as he breathed out a thick cloud of smoke, and kicked yourself off the wall in order to walk closer to him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as you leaned on the wall beside him and smirked up at him.

“So are you going to tell me why you’ve been so adamant on not letting me get lucky lately? Because it’s starting to get on my nerves.” You admitted, clicking your tongue again.

Oscar suddenly turned tense, turning his head to the side to avoid your gaze, which only made your suspicions grow.

“I’m just looking out for you.” He answered shortly, shrugging his shoulders and taking a particularly large drag of the cigarette, fiddling with the white stick of tobacco, something you knew that he did when he on the rare occasion felt nervous or anxious about something.

You weren’t stupid. You could take a hint and you could also read him like an open book. You saw right through his bullshit, but you kept pretending to be clueless, crossing your arms over your chest and smirking at him.

“I hardly see how it could be harmful for me to get my needs satisfied.” You hummed, teasing him. “You be fucking hynas every day and you’re as healthy as ever. How is it any different for me?”

“I haven’t been with no hyna for months.” He answered awfully quickly, and you couldn’t deny that this revelation shocked you.

For as long as you had known him he had always gotten around, so to say you were confused as to why that had changed was an understatement.

“Really?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes. “Why?”

You knew why, of course, but at the same time you were confused why he was suddenly going to such extreme extents when he hadn’t before.

“I’ve got more important shit to deal with.” He said, rolling his lips.

This caused you to snort. “What’s ever been more important than getting your dick sucked for you cholos?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

When he didn’t answer, you pushed yourself off the wall and reached your hand out for his cigarette just as he was about to take another drag. He watched with a sour expression as you took it from between his fingers and tossed it to the ground, putting it out with the heel of your shoe.

You then took his chin in your hand and forced him to look at you, taking in the way his adam’s apple bobbled when he came face to face with your mocking smirk.

You raised an eyebrow and held his chin in place. “Why don’t you cut the shit and tell me why you’re really not wanting me to get with anyone?”

He glared down at you, obviously not very happy with the games you were playing and spoke bitterly. “It sounds like you already know.”

Putting on a feign clueless look, you dropped his chin and threw your arms out. “I don’t, that’s why I’m asking.” You said innocently. “Why do you insist on cockblocking me every day?”

“You gonna make me say it?” He asked, eyes narrowed into slits by now. But he wasn’t angry, you knew. He was just uncomfortable as shit from being put on the spot like this, and you were having too much fun with it.

Rather than answering his question you simply raised your eyebrows as to challenge him, and after closing his eyes and taking a long, annoyed breath through his nose, the words finally left his lips.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” He spoke through his teeth, opening his eyes to look at you again. “And I don’t want you being with no other fool.”

Ah, there it was, what you had suspected for a long time now but not been sure enough about to make the first move.

Your smirk fell from your face, your lips instead pulling into a sincere smile. “You love me?” You asked. 

But even though you had now turned sincere, a playful hint of teasing still remained in your voice, which only made his glare harden.

“I ain’t repeating myself.” He told you stubbornly, clenching his fists at his sides; another sign of how uncomfortable he was. “This is where you’re supposed to tell me you love me too, or some shit.”

You grinned up at him, nodding. “I could do that, but I’m having so much fun watching you squirm.” He turned his head to the side with a scoff and you aww:ed. “Aw, are you blushing, Oscar?”

He kissed his teeth and shook his head. But he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He was indeed blushing, his neck and ears taking a red tint as a result of your merciless torture. 

He chuckled, pulling his hand over his mouth and chin, muttering under his breath. “Pendeja.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall again. “Is that any way to talk to your girl?”

At the sound of your words, he turned back to look at you, a smirk now growing on his face. “My girl, huh?” He questioned, and you smiled, moving forward.

“I’ve always been your girl, Diaz.” You confessed, taking a hold of the collar of his plaid shirt and straightening it out before looking up to meet his gaze through your eyelashes. “I’ve just been waiting for you to grow a pair and step up and claim me.”

You shrugged, a small teasing smile playing at your lips. “But you know, you better hurry your ass up if you want to claim me before Carlos does. He seemed to like me an awful lot back there.”

A glare fell on his face and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pulling you flush against him. “You’re mine.” He seethed, leaning his head down closer to yours.

Your faces were now only inches apart, your arms wrapping around his neck and the feeling of his hands squeezing your sides making your insides flutter and causing your heart to nearly beat out of your chest with excitement and anticipation.

Tilting your head up ever so slightly, your lips brushed over each other’s for the shortest second, but you stopped yourself before they could touch properly, giving him a seductive look and whispering: “Prove it.”

And that’s all it took for Oscar’s confidence to come flooding back, his lips pressing against yours the next second with such intimacy you were getting weak at the knees. 

You gripped at the back of his neck and you desperately tried to pull each other closer, even though you were already as close as the physics of space would allow. 

Around you, people were whistling and hollering, telling you to ‘get it’. The sound brought a smile to your face and you couldn’t keep the laughter in for long, forcing you to break apart.

Oscar was wearing a satisfied smirk of his own and once everyone had quietened down, he pulled you into his side and yelled out for all to hear, “Anyone put a hand on her and they’ll have me to answer to!” He squeezed your side and turned to look down at you affectionately. “Ella es mi ruca.”

He was still talking to the others when he said the last part, but with the way he was staring down at you, it felt like it was meant just for you. 

Everyone made some kind of sound of agreement and went back to their business, and you chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. “Alright, papi. No need to get all macho on them.”

The grip he had on your waist tightened and before you had time to react he had turned you around so you were standing in his arms again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and looked at you with dark eyes. “Call me that again and I’ll show you just how macho I can get, princesa.” He spoke lowly, his accent more evident than ever, and you wasted no time in pressing your lips to his in another kiss; the second one and not by far the last.