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#i love daniel a normal amount
trikis-turntables · 2 years
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I drew this in a fevered fugue after 14 hours of assignment writing
Ethan & Daniel based on the Centaur's Kiss by George Lennoc
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hideousvampire · 3 months
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evil green puppy and his dumb accomplice
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corrodedbisexual · 1 year
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From this thrilling saga
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anaid-queen · 10 months
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"This time, I won't save your life."
aka Thoughts on hints of Daniel being turned against his will
[note: there are no explicit hints, but there has been talk he'll be turned "soon" and that Armand will physically fight him, which i can't imagine him doing with his fragile human boy. so....!]
i have thoughts. on Armand and Daniel, and on Armand and Louis and all his lies coming back to haunt him. i suck at actually completing (and not just drafting) fic but. i have THOUGHTS. fic idea under the cut!!
("This time, I won't save your life", he said. like a lying liar who lies.)
Louis finally broke through all of Armand's mind blocks. Louis found out Armand had KEPT LESTAT IN THE FUCKING BASEMENT FOR DECADES [The Groan Theory]. Louis turns on Armand with the fury of a thousand suns, you killed my daughter you maimed the love of my life my husband YOU MADE ME FORGET ALL OF THIS. YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!! picture a Louis HELL-BENT on vengeance.
and then.
Louis' eyes suddenly shift to Daniel. and he's a FRACTION faster than Armand and picks him up.
by the throat.
and straight-up smashes him through a window and dangles him there, fuck only knows how many meters above the ground.
Armand pleads with him…. when nothing helps, he falls to his knees. picture Armand BREAKING.
picture Louis trying, so so hard, to hold onto his anger as some part of his DEAR heart (bless his good heart like god damn, he's got so much anger and darkness but he's got so much GOOD in him too) wants to balk. doesn't actually WANT to give pain for pain.
he knows this is the only way he has to hurt Armand back.
he wants to hurt Armand. he's a MONSTER. HE DESERVES IT.
Armand manipulated him from the very start -
but Armand isn't manipulating him now. isn't even trying. not even a small mental push. he's just on his knees. pleading. "Not Danny…."
Louis' mouth sets in a hard line.
any moment he's gonna drop him.
(much longer, and Daniel's dead anyway, he's been holding his throat way too tight. there's glass shards in his hair (in his head?), he's got a concussion at the very least. Louis' claws have already torn into him.)
silent tears roll down Armand's face. even his whispered "please" is silent, now.
Louis balls his fist, claws ripping Daniel's windpipe right out, and throws him on the penthouse floor. then he runs out of the room, vamp-speed. (to Lestat.)
Armand doesn't even see him go, he screams as he falls to Daniel's side.
(sound cuts, only music over Armand's weeping and wailing. over Armand's heaving chest as he stares at Daniel, bleeding out. eyes already empty, so close to dead. so so close. Armand tears into what's left of his throat and drinks.)
cut to: a scene in complete silence, save for the steady beeping that gives a hospital atmosphere, though this can't be anywhere but the penthouse. camera pans through a white minimalist room. Armand comes into frame, sitting on a chair, staring at something (someone?) just off-screen. eyes hollow, face unreadable. camera slowly pans down. there is a needle in his arm, and the tube is running red.
[CUT TO CREDITS]
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soobiesworld · 6 months
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Daniel, Johnny, and Ali for Character Bingo! 👁️👁️
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template made by @petrichormeraki
character bingo: daniel larusso!!
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character bingo: johnny lawrence!!
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character bingo: ali mills !
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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DCxDP Fanfic idea: Love at first (club) Meeting.
Damian wants to make friends in school. He asked Colin what he should do to get this accomplishment after months of failure.
The friend recommended joining school clubs, affectionately telling him that he was in a sewing club at his own public school.
Damian didn't see how getting into an organization dedicated to some hobby was going to cause friendships, but Colin seemed to have a decent amount of friends when he wasn't running around as Abuse.
He went to check on the clubs available, but nothing really got his attention. There was the art club but only one meeting told him that it wasn't for him. The club was more for his classmates to stand around and chit chat.
None of them actually did any art, seeing as the ussually club advisor was away on maternity leave. The substitute is the baseball couch on off-season, and although he encouraged everyone to draw, it wasn't the same amount of fun as normal activities.
The other kids assured him that they would be painting and sculpting once Mrs. Flor came back, but Damian didn't want to wait.
So he leaves and tries to find a new one. The world history club bored him with useless trivia, and the chess club had no worthy challengers.
Damian decides to try one last time before giving up, when he encounters Daniel Fenton trying to get a second signature for his Ghost Hunting Club.
Fenton is from outside of Gotham. He moved here with his family after Father bought out his family business, having turned their research into defenses against aliens. Damian had seen him around school, but other than the occasional bully, no one paid too much attention to him.
Gotham Academy had four requirements for a student run club. There had to be two members to be officially started. They needed to keep a clear recap of their club minutes, a teacher had to sign as their advisor and, for the first two years, had to be without a bank account.
Fenton held up his pathetic sign-up sheet in front of passing students. He stammers, "Would like to join the Ghost hunter-um if I could bother you for a moment - are you interested in-excuse me"
Damian watches Fenton try over and over to ask for a second club memeber, but no one bothers to even hear his full question. They walk right by him as if though they could see through Fenton. He can't say why but that upsets him.
Before Damian knows what he's doing he finds his feet marching towards Fenton. The boy is staring down at his clipboard with a disheartened expression before he spots Damian.
Fenton's jaw drops, and his eyes grow impossiblely wide as Damian gets closer. He draws his clip board up to his chest, staring at the Wayne as if he was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.
Surely Damian is not that different looking than any other human. Why is he acting like that?
"Good morning," He says when he finally stands in front of Fenton. The boy's face turns s red "I am Damian Wayne."
"Hi, I'm Danny, um Fenton, I'm Danny Fenton," the other rambles while nervously tapping his fingers on the back of the clipboard.
"Well, met Fenton. I overheard you are requesting signatures for a club?"
"Oh!" Fenton turns the clipboard but in his haste it slips from his hold, landing on the ground with loud thump. Damian raises a brow while Fenton breaks out into a sweat.
Damian leans down to grab the board at the same time, Fenton throws himself forward, and he sees the collusion before it happens, but Damian knows that a regular child wouldn't be able to dodge it without raising questions. He allows Fenton's forhead to slam against his with a hiss.
"I'm sorry!" Fenton gasps out, but Damian heeds him no mind, as he signs the form with a flourish. The harsh strokes of his pen echo in the hallway, informing Damian that he needs to head to class before the second bell.
"I shall see you after school. We can see the famous haunted bathroom in the gym. " He tells the fool, slapping the clipboard into the boy's hand. Damian twists on his heel, strutting away. He throws a hand over his shoulder, calling back. "Ta"
He misses the look of utter awe adoration aimed at his back or the rapid growing infatuation in his clubmates' eyes.
It's the start of Damian's very odd club because he finds he actually enjoys walking around the school trying to find readings for ghosts. He even enjoys following Fenton to abandon buildings, dark sewers and sitting around with childish recordings asking for any signs of the afterlife.
That's mostly due to how nervous Fenton was when wandering into haunted places. He finds great joy in watching Fenton try to put a brave face on despite shaking in his boots when a ghost might be around.
It may be cruel of Damian, but it's highly entertaining.
Danny is not scared of ghosts - that would be a bit counterproductive given his Halfa status. He is crushing hard on Damian Wayne, and when he has a crush, he gets ridiculous nervous around them that it's easier to blame the shaking, the sweating and shuttering on phasmophobia.
But could anyone blame him? Damian Wayne is a walking work of art, so much that when Danny first saw him in the hallway, he was half sure, the surroundings had dimmed.
He wasn't exaggerating when Danny thought Damian had stardust and white doves floating around his head at all times. He was that stunning.
And he had walked up to Danny to join his club, the one he had been trying for almost a week to get started because he was tired of being a friendless loser and took up Sam's advice in a desperate last ditch effort. He is so glad he had that video call with her because without it, he would never have gotten to speak to Damian.
They were in different classes, had different lunch periods, and frankly, Damian was the son of the richest man in the country. Danny was the random kid on scholarship with creepy ghost powers hunting other ghosts.
He wrote poems about Damian's eyes when flying over Gotham, sighing like a pathetic school boy. He also dodges a kuni shoot at him by Robin.
Ugh, he hates that guy. He's so rude and has been trying to hunt Danny down ever sense they arrived in Gotham. He was scary good at what he did, and the only reason Danny stayed free was Robin not understanding that he was after a ghost.
Robin thought he was a meta and had attack because of that. Which, racist much? Danny openly mocked him just to get on Robin's nerves.
Batman let Robin cause after the meta because he could tell from that little smile as he raced after the glowing figure that Damian found the other attractive. It reminds him of his early years chasing Catwoman across the rooftops.
Maybe Gotham wasn't so bad a move after all.
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userlando · 1 year
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a different light — max verstappen
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max verstappen x fem!reader [6.9k] summary: you weren’t just friends. friends didn’t touch you the way he did (or the one where max has an epiphany and realizes he's in love with his best friend) warnings: 18+ explicit smut, idiots in love, friends to lovers a/n: idk what it is with me and writing fics at work, but here i am again. i had SO much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading this ♡
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Max hadn’t experienced many moments where he felt true and utter bliss, especially when he was growing up. His home life made it hard, and he’d rejected any type of positive feelings for a long time until you came along. You’d been a force to be reckoned with, matching Max’s energy so well that it wasn’t hard to build a solid friendship that would last for as long as it did.
He found comfort in your soft skin, in your reassuring smile. Even in the way your voice would get all high pitched when you told a white lie. You’d been his one true pillar when his career went from karting to racing, becoming a known household name in the chaos of it all. You’d kept his feet on the ground when he needed it most, and there was no amount of money to ever repay you for everything you’d done for him, and you vice versa.
So, he found comfort in a lot of things when it came to you. But you, sitting close to him when you had so many seats and chairs to choose from? That was everything.
You had claimed the two-seater for yourselves, but it didn’t stop you from snuggling right up to your best friend’s side with his arm around you and your head comfortably resting on his pectoral. It was a common occurence, you so deeply embedded in his arms that it might as well have been a permanent shape of you on his skin. Max had grown up with you, so he'd basically memorized the smell of your shampoo that you'd used since you were fifteen, the freckles and moles on your face and how goosebumps rose on your skin at the slightest cold breeze because that's who you were.
He'd naively thought it to be normal, to be so in tune with his best friend and it wasn't until he'd entered early adulthood and actually spent time with his friends on the grid that he realized that maybe it wasn't usual.
He still remembered the day he'd brought you along for the Baku Grand Prix and you'd mentioned being childhood friends in a passing conversation, registering the sheer looks of confusion coming from his friends. It had made him flush, a little embarrassed and a little confused until Daniel had hooked an arm around his shoulders and murmured I've been going around for three months thinking she was your girlfriend, man.
Max had shoved his friend and pulled a face, the usual ‘gross, she’s like a sister’ phrase on his tongue that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. But it had stuck with him for the rest of that day, and the more he thought about it, the more Daniel was probably right in thinking so.
Max couldn't pinpoint what exactly had shifted after that day, but he knew that something had changed. He became hyper aware of your touches and lingering looks, your ability to flirt but still toe the line of it being a little too inappropriate.
Sharing hotel rooms became weird, and it dawned on Max that maybe the two of you were acting a little too much like a couple when he found himself in bed with you snoring by his side, Daniel's words still haunting him like a ghost at the corner of the king sized bed.
He’d stared at your face in the dark for an hour, the street lights doing a good job of contouring your face in the dark and he’d felt a knot in his stomach when you’d shifted in your slumber and reached for something. He hadn’t realized what you looked for until you placed your hand on his arm.
Not grabbing. Just… setting it there like you needed his comfort even in your sleep. Such a simple gesture that had shook your best friend to the core.
The Aussie made it, along with Lando, his life's mission to send looks and make comments after that race weekend in Baku.
That was eight months ago, and they clearly had no intention of stopping as you sat in the backyard of Carlos' family vacation home in Palma de Mallorca, surrounded by drivers and their partners alike. You’d been there for two days, the relaxation already blanketing your group the more you spent time in the ocean and dozed in the loungers. The nights consisted of card games, drinking games and bonfires until someone had the stupid idea to go for a dip in the sea that just so happened to be in your backyard.
You'd been dozing tonight, finding it hard to stay awake with the way Max's fingers absentmindedly drew patterns up and down your drawn up legs.
The sun had clearly done its number on you during the day, draining every bit of energy you’d had. Heat and humidity always did that to you, so it wasn’t a surprise that you’d find the comfort of your best friend’s embrace the moment everyone sat down and curl up much like a cat.
The rhythm of his chest was enough to lull you into a sense of security, watching your group of friends across the table as they played Uno with the occassional accusation and shouts that came with playing the card game.
It had been Charles' idea to play it, clearly wanting to see the world burn as he put a group of competitive people into a game of Uno. It had been great entertainment though, your lips curled into a permanent amused smile as you watched on in silence.
Lando pulled a draw four card, setting it down with a grin and Carlos cursed in Spanish, clearly annoyed as he shoved the curly haired boy. A ripple of laughter tore through the group at the display, and you figured that it wasn't long before the game would dissolve into angry arguments.
"You can't beat the master of Uno." Lando said, clearly looking to agitate the Spaniard as the black haired man picked up an additional four cards to his already stacked hand.
"You've lost the last four games, mate." Charles muttered into his glass, taking a sip of his icy margarita for good measure.
"My luck is turning, mate.” Lando flipped him off, earning laughter from Pierre and George. “Get off my back."
You watched them bicker, thoughts stuttering to a halt when Max shifted beneath you. He drew the hand that had been on your legs up, ruffling your hair gently and you glanced up at him.
"Have you fallen asleep on me yet?" He asked quietly, for your ears only and you grinned sleepily, the perfect picture of comfortable.
“Not yet.” You muttered, covering your mouth as a yawn took you by surprise and Max smiled in amusement.
“Do you wanna go for a walk?” He glanced up at the boys when their voices picked up volume. “Get out before this becomes massacre.”
You laughed, nodding your head in agreement and letting him pull you up. No one really noticed as you slipped away, or if they did, they didn’t question it.
The voices of your friends faded into the background the further you got away from the house, grass and gravel transformed into cobblestones leading up to the town and further from the ocean.
“It’s so pretty here.” You mused, looking down the cobbled path, lit up by street lamps. “I’d love to live some place like this, some day.”
Max’s brows furrowed, following your gaze before looking at you questioningly.
“You basically do.” He said, humourous lilt to his voice. “Mooching off of me, living it up in Monaco.”
It would’ve made you feel self-conscious and even a little embarrassed if those words had come from anyone else but Max, but you’d been friends for so long that you knew when he was joking and when he was being serious. And in this case, it was the former. It was evident in the teasing smile and his light voice, aside from the fact that he’d always find a way to rebook your flight and beg you to stay for a few more days. As if you hadn’t been with him for a week already, as if you didn’t attend nearly every race because he claimed that he didn’t want anyone else around but you.
You were aware that it wasn’t a normal friendship, what the two of you had. And you knew that people thought it to be unbelievable that you weren’t romantically involved, some days you questioned that yourself. But that was a whole can of worms that you weren’t ready to crack open just yet. It felt too dangerous.
“I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You said, voice airy as you tossed your hair over your shoulder and skipped a step forward before turning and walking backwards in front of Max. He arched a confused brow, almost disappearing under his cap and the sight was a little too funny. “As soon as I find another man to live off of. Preferably handsome and rich.”
You were kidding, obviously, but the thought still made something sour well up in Max’s throat and he struggled to not frown in annoyance. He looked away, making it seem as if he was admiring the ocean view that he could barely see in the dark, when he was in fact trying to shield his face from your attentive eyes.
“Shouldn’t be too hard.” He said, cursing himself when his voice shook. It was so minimal though and you thankfully didn’t call him out on it. ”I mean, look at you.”
There was an awkward silence seeping into the space between you and you tried to maintain the aloof expression on your face but it was hard when your stomach was doing weird flip flops. Look at you.
“And also,” Max continued, rushing to fill the silence and break the sudden and rare awkwardness. “You’ve got me as your wingman.”
That made you laugh, and something like relief flooded Max’s stomach.
“Wingman? Right.” You turned, walking ahead of him and the boy frowned at the disbelieving tone in your voice.
“What do you mean? I’m an excellent wingman.” He jogged up to catch up with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in.
It always amused him how you stumbled into his embrace whenever he did that, always so caught off guard but never once doubting that he’d be there to keep you upright. It was his favourite thing to do, mainly because you’d grumble and peer up at him with your eyes and Max would grin like the close proximity didn’t make him want to vomit with how much he craved to press his lips to yours. Just to see what it’d be like.
“Max,” you rolled your eyes. “No one ever dares to approach me when you’re by my side. You’re like a guard dog.”
“What?” He pulled back a little to look at your face, still keeping his arm around you. “I’m not! What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You scare off every single man!” Your voice went high in amusement and something else that he couldn't put his finger on. At Max’s furrowed brows, you sucked your teeth in exasperation and continued, “Last weekend, we were out in Monaco, remember? Two guys approached me, and you just magically seemed to show up and stake your claim. You might as well have peed all over me.”
The furrow between Max’s eyebrows seemed to deepen, feeling a little lost all of a sudden because you sounded genuinely upset and he didn’t know what to do with that.
“That's disgusting. And I wasn’t staking anything.” Max grumbled when the silence stretched on. “They were idiots anyway. Who wears sunglasses inside a club? At night?"
The both of you stared at each other as you walked and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle that broke the sudden tension. Just the sound of it made Max relax a little from where he'd suddenly gone tense.
“He was kind of a loser, wasn’t he?” You agreed, because it was true. “But you still scare every guy off.”
Okay, so maybe he did. And he’d done so unintentionally until last year before his feelings for you started to enter dangerous territory. Whereas before, he’d genuinely think that the guys you dated were total idiots, now he’d find a way to glare and act standoffish until the men took that as a sign and bailed.
“Sorry.” He said, but he really wasn’t. And you clearly didn’t believe he was sincere, judging by the arched brows on your forehead. “What? I am.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because you weren’t really upset about the fact that Max managed to chase men off whenever they got close to you. It was just the fact that he ran them off and then continued to act as if his actions didn’t have any hidden motives.
There was clearly something between the two of you, and it scared you but it also made you want more. Max was just too much of a wuss to act out on it, and so were you, in a way.
You didn’t know how many hints you could dish out before it got borderline ridiculous. Max didn't need a push, he needed a shove.
The both of you took a walk around the small village before circling back home. A few had retired to bed already, and you found Daniel, Pierre and Lando lounging around by the outdoor fireplace. Lando clocked the both of you walking into the backyard, looking a little suspicious and you shot him a questioning glance.
“Welcome back, children.” The man himself greeted, earning a flick to the head by Max in passing. He yelped, making you laugh as you sat down by Pierre.
“We’re older than you, idiot.” You pointed out and Max made a hum in agreement, looking around with a small frown.
It was ridiculous how he all of a sudden felt a little lost when you didn’t immediately go for a seat that held two people. You always managed to find a seat right next to Max, even going as far as sitting in his lap when he was in a chair; neither of you pointing out the fact that there were other seats to choose from.
But now you’d sat next to Pierre, and he felt something ugly bloom in his chest when the man in question draped a friendly arm over the backrest. You were good friends with the Frenchman, and he had a girlfriend but it still made Max annoyed.
He reluctantly sat in a chair when he realised that he’d lingered for too long, trying to tune into the conversation that had gone on for the whole time he’d gotten lost in his head.
You’d noticed, of course you had, there was no one as in tune with Max Verstappen as you were. It made you feel a smidge of glee because it was just further confirmation that whatever was going on between the two of you wasn’t friends being friends.
And it only seemed to solidify when Max looked your way, a hundred emotions shining in his eyes as he glared daggers at Pierre and his harmless arm. You arched an eyebrow, silently and innocently asking him what was wrong.
You watched Max shift in his seat.
“So, where’s Kika, Pierre?” He asked, the question coming out of the blue and you almost rolled your eyes, trying not to react when Daniel and Lando’s conversation trailed off to look at the three of you.
Pierre touched your shoulder with a finger, a tap that conveyed so much and you hid a smile by biting your cheek. Leave it to Pierre to read a room and embody the innocent and clueless man perfectly in order to help you.
“She’s sleeping.” He replied easily, kindly. “Had a little too much to drink. Which reminds me…” He trailed off and turned his head to look at you. “She wanted me to remind you of your plans tomorrow.”
“What plans?” Max asked before you had a chance to reply.
“We’re just going to a boutique we came across. It looked cute,” you smiled. “It was closed when we walked by today. But they had these nice bikinis I wanted to get my hands on.”
Lando looked up at the mention of bikinis, a smarmy smile that told you exactly what he’d say before he even opened his mouth.
“Can I come?” He asked, making Daniel cackle.
You stretched your leg out to kick his shin, grinning at his cheekiness. Lando dodged your kick just barely, a smile of his own stretching his lips.
“You’re being weird.” Max said, giving the British boy a look that looked an awful lot like a warning. It didn’t deter Lando though, not like it’d make a grown man running if it were aimed at a stranger.
The curly haired boy only rolled his eyes, a playful air to him as he glanced between you and Max.
“I’m being weird, sure.” He said. “Not as weird as you two sharing a bed.”
A hot flush traveled up your spine and reached your cheeks when Pierre and Daniel laughed, like they were trying to hold it in but couldn’t. You had half a mind to reach over the table and strangle your friend who looked way too smug to have aired out the one thing everyone probably had thought at least once, but never said out loud.
You and Max shared a glance, expecting him to look embarrassed but he looked smug and you didn’t know why your stomach rolled at the sight. He looked… hot. Confidence had always looked good on Max.
“At least I have someone to share a bed with, dipshit.” He stretched out his hand to pinch Lando, making everyone laugh. “Can’t say the same for you.”
“Oh, ha!” Lando raised his voice in a fake laugh, face scrunched up adorably sarcastic. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny, Max. Maybe you should consider being a comedian instead of the insufferable driver that you are.”
“Maybe then you’d have a chance to get podium.” Max said around a laugh and it took exactly two seconds before everyone started hollering and cackling, Lando standing up to deliver half-assed punches and nips at the laughing Dutchman who tried to dodge the incoming attacks.
You watched with an amused smile as they scuffled, both red in the face from laughter and shouts. There was no way that they wouldn’t end up waking up everyone in the house, so you stood up and ushered Lando away from Max with a laugh.
“You’re both children.” You pointed your finger at Lando when he took a step back.
“Still more mature than you.” Lando said, not maturely at all and you smiled in amusement.
“That's a fucking lie, mate.” Daniel scoffed, laughter in his voice and Lando turned around to give him a piece of his mind.
You watched them dish out insults at each other that really sounded a lot like friendly love in disguise, startling a little when you suddenly felt arms circle your waist. A yelp left your lips when you were pulled into Max’s lap, twisting until you could look at him.
The closeness of his face caught you off guard, the blue in his eyes so striking with the fireplace reflecting in them. You draped both legs over his lap, making yourself comfortable with a shy smile.
“Hi.” He greeted you softly once you’d settled down.
“Hello.” Your breath stuttered a little when he brushed his fingers against your waist, skin against skin where your tank top had ridden up.
“I think that’s our cue to go to bed.” Daniel said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear and look at him.
Lando shot him a look, eyebrows raising when both Daniel and Pierre stood up.
“I’m not tired? You go —“ He halted his words when Daniel glared at him. “Right. Whatever.”
The boys stood up, bidding you goodnight and kisses to your head before disappearing inside. You watched them through the sliding doors as they shoved each other and laughed, vanishing around a corner. Max squeezed your side and you glanced at him.
“What?” You asked when you spotted the smile that so badly wanted to break out on his face, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.
“You were trying to make me jealous.” He said, not as a question but as a sure statement. You rolled your eyes and tried to steady your breathing when he leaned forward to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, his hot puffs of breath making goosebumps rise on your skin.
You squirmed when his beard tickled you, shoving halfheartedly on his shoulder but he didn’t budge. He pressed his lips against your pulse point and you knew that was it; he could definitely feel your racing pulse, there was no way he couldn’t.
“Well, it worked.” You replied belatedly, voice a lot weaker and shakier than you would’ve liked it to be.
Max didn’t say anything of it, though you could feel his lips move as he smiled into your throat.
“It did.” He confessed quietly, feeling your pulse jump beneath his lips. “I wanted to break Pierre’s fingers.”
He touched your shoulder where the Frenchman had previously touched you, like he was wiping off evidence of any man but himself. It made something coil tightly in your stomach, and you struggled to not squirm in your best friend’s lap.
“That would be unwise.” You whispered, glancing over at the house where there was no sign of life.
You didn’t know how you’d explain it away, if someone were to walk back out and find the two of you in this position. You, in his lap with your arm wound around his shoulder and Max under you, pressed so close in every way. It would certainly be hard to convince anyone you were just friends after this.
But you weren’t just friends. Friends didn’t touch you the way he did, with his hand stroking the skin over your collarbone, trailing a path down the cup of your tank top and feeling the swell of your breast. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes locked on his hand as it mapped out every inch of your skin; fingers stroking down between your tits before he opened the palm of his hand to slide it over your ribs, almost cupping your heaving chest. You almost wished that he did, every inch of your body aching to be defiled by the very same man you’d called your best friend for years.
“Breathe.” He murmured against your throat and you realised that you’d been holding your breath, a rush of air escaping your mouth as you willed yourself to relax.
“Max.” Your brows furrowed, arching your back a little and pushing your chest closer to him.
He said your name, the sound of it so beautifully intimate and hot on his tongue that it almost made you whine. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess in your head, making it hard for you to think of anything other than his hand. The very same hand that caressed your ribs, fingers spanning out until he brushed your nipple. You inhaled sharply at the twinge of pain when he went over it again, making out the shape of it through the thin material of your top and circling it teasingly just so he could hear your stuttered and laboured breaths.
“You sound so pretty for me.” He spoke against your skin, welcoming the twinge of pain when you pulled at his hair slightly.
The whispered compliment lit your body on fire, made your hand tighten in his hair so you could push his face against your neck. He seemed to get the memo, opening his mouth to latch onto the sensitive skin there and suck. The combination of suction and the sharp pain of his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple made you moan, the loudness of the sound catching you off guard.
“Fuck!” You cursed when he rolled the bud between his fingers, enjoying the way you squirmed; like you weren’t sure whether to push into or away from him.
You glanced up at the sky, trying to focus on the light of the stars but there was no stopping the way your eyes rolled when he bit into your skin where he’d been sucking a nasty mark into it, flattening his tongue out to lave over it. Almost like he wanted to soothe the sting.
“This isn’t weird, is it?” You asked breathlessly, even though you both knew the answer to that.
“Does it feel weird?” He countered, pulling away and you blinked down at him; struck by the absolute need in his face.
It was the first time you’d seen his face since you sat down, taking in the saliva on his lip and the blown out pupils. He looked good enough to eat and you couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth the way you'd thought of doing for the last year.
He welcomed it with gusto, pulling away for a swift second to gauge your reaction. Max must’ve liked what he saw on your face because he dove right back, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss that had you moaning from your throat.
“Been thinking about this for a long time now.” Max confessed when you both let up for air, staring at each other through hooded lids and bruised lips.
“Me too.” You said, pushing his hair back softly. “So long.”
He kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it and you let him claim your lips however he pleased before he trailed down your jawline, sucking a few more hickeys down the side of your neck for good measure. You pushed your chest out when he neared the swell of them, watching how he pulled your top down just enough to get a better look at your tits.
Max stared at them, marvelling at the sight before the need to have his mouth on them became too great. A whimper tumbled from your lips when he sucked and licked until your skin turned raw, giving the other nipple the very same treatment.
“Oh, what the fuck?” A voice exclaimed and you jumped, turning to shield yourself from whoever had decided to turn up unannounced.
Max hurried to pull up your tank top, shooting you a glance before he leaned to the side and peered around you at the same time you looked over your shoulder. George had his back turned to you, one hand on his waist and face turned toward the sky. You couldn’t see his face, but the exasperation was clear as day in his body language.
“You guys are fucking gross.” He said and you bit your lips together to stop from laughing.
“What the fuck do you want, Russell?” Max asked, clearly annoyed that you’d been interrupted and you smoothed a thumb over the crease on his forehead.
“I forgot my phone, asshole.” He replied, agitated. “Are you guys decent?”
“Yes, you drama queen.” You rolled your eyes and watched him turn around.
There was a grimace etched on his face as he walked forward, sticking his hand down between the couch cushions until he fished out his phone. George stood upright, and there was a moment of awkwardness as you all looked at each other.
“Congratulations on finally coming to your senses.” He said finally, saluting you and walking backwards. “But please don’t shag on the patio furniture, we still have a week left and I don’t think Carlos would like an ass print on the cushions.”
“Why don’t you come over here and kiss my ass?” Max flipped him off with no real heat and you laughed.
“No thanks,” he grinned as he reached the sliding doors. “I’ll leave that to your girl.”
A silence filled the air after George made his exit and you slowly turned around, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of prodding questions that would surely come in the morning. George could never keep his mouth shut, enjoying chaos where it wasn’t necessary and you’d been friends with everyone long enough to know that it only took one person for word to spread like wildfire.
“It could’ve been worse.” Max said, who’d been sitting silently and regarding the faraway look in your eyes. It never ceased to amaze you how easily he could read you.
“Don’t remind me.” You widened your eyes at him, a smile overtaking your face when you saw the sparkle of humour in his eyes. “Maybe we should…”
You trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint because the sudden embarrassment kept you from finish the sentence. What would you even say? Maybe we should go to bed so we can finish what we started?
Max seemed to pick up what you were putting down, as he always did. He gave you a nod, face soft with reassurance as he cupped your face in his hand, brushing a few strands of your hair away from your face.
“Are we good?” He asked, and you took a good look at him; noting the slight worry in his eyes and you realised that while he was reassuring you, he needed a little reassurance of his own.
You placed a hand over his, giving him a gentle nod with a smile. His eyes fluttered shut when you leaned over to peck his lips, placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek for good measure.
“We’re more than good.” You gave another nod, climbing out of his lap and reaching both your hands out so he could grab them. “Take me to bed, Max.”
He made a show of groaning loudly until you laughed, hauling him up and dragging him across the lawn. You preened under his wandering hands as he crowded your space from behind, plastering his front to your back and winding his arms around you.
“Stop that.” You hissed when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, making loud and lewd noises until it tickled you.
“But you’re so soft.” He complained, sliding both hands up your sides and under your top, fingers grazing your under boob.
You squirmed but made no real effort to push him away, opening the sliding doors and walking inside with a little difficulty. The both of you got as far as the living area before Max turned you around and kissed you, rendering you useless to stop him or protest. You could feel his mouth stretch into a smirk, like he knew what he was doing and you didn’t have the heart to make any effort to scold him even as he backed you into the sofa. A loud yelp left your lips when the backs of your knees hit the sofa, accompanied by his startled shout when you both went tumbling down on the furniture with him over you.
“That wasn’t nearly as sexy as they make it out to be in the movies.” You complained, watching Max smile down at you. He adjusted the both of you until you had your legs around him, testing the waters by grinding down on you and your mouth dropped open when you felt the hardness of his cock against your crotch. “Oh, hello.”
Max exhaled, like he was relieved to finally take some pressure off by grinding against you and you angled your hips to meet his thrusts, keeping your eyes on his to watch as his face went through a hundred of different emotions. You were struggling though, the rough denim of his shorts against your cotton ones felt deliciously nice and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep quiet.
“I’d sometimes lie awake and imagine what you’d sound like.” Max murmured quietly, teeth bearing down on his lower lip when you gripped his shoulders a little harder. He ground down, listening to you whine high in your throat. “I’d fantasise what you looked like when you came.”
You dug your heels into his ass, silently telling him to keep going because a few minutes more of his incessant thrusting and he’d have you coming. Max kissed down your jawline, sucking tiny little marks into the skin that he knew you’d give him shit for when your mind had cleared, but it was the thought of your friends seeing your bruised skin that worked him up into a frenzy. He wanted, needed to show everyone that you were his. Fuck Pierre and his wandering hands, and Daniel who’d smugly smiled at him from across the paddock all those times.
He’d show them.
“You gonna make that reality, my love?” He was getting close, voice losing its edge as he spoke the words into your clavicle. He bit the thin skin there until you keened, digging your blunt nails into his shoulders. “Gonna show me what you look like when you come?”
“Yes, yes, yes…” your words were becoming jumbled, making these high noises from your chest that seized Max by the throat.
He didn’t think you were even aware of how loud you were becoming, but he’d be damned to stop you. It reminded him of the same noises you’d make when you’d take a quick dip into a cold ocean and he’d splash you just for the sake of it. You’d make this high pitched, whiny noise like the chill of the water took your breath away. It was mesmerising and so fucking hot that Max couldn’t help but grind down one last time and shoot off into his shorts, a throaty moan in your ear that sent you over the edge as well.
He forced himself to watch your face as it scrunched up, mouth hanging open as you gasped for breath, body seized up beneath him as you both ground against each other in an effort to bring you back down from your highs.
“Fuck, this is gross.” Max scrunched his nose up as he looked down between you. You peered down with a breathless giggle, noting the spot in his shorts that had seeped onto yours.
He looked up at you at the sound of your laughter, face relaxing when he saw your smiling eyes and hot cheeks. The sun had been good to you, kissing your skin so beautifully that he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you for a second since you got here.
“I can’t believe we just humped like a couple of teens.” You said it with laughter in your voice, but Max could spot the shy tilt of your brows and there was something oddly endearing about it. "In Carlos's family home." You said the last part in a mortified whisper, like the reality of it was dawning on you.
“Should’ve done that sooner.” He joked and you laughed, slapping his shoulder.
Max dropped his weight on you as sudden exhaustion seeped into his body, and you grunted. You wound your arms around him though, ignoring the messes you’d made between you for the sake of a cuddle. Your fingers drew little patterns on his back, like you knew Max loved, and he almost purred at the feeling.
“We should probably go to bed.” You said quietly.
“Yeah.” He said, but neither of you made any effort to move.
The grandfather clock was ticking away in the corner, almost like background music, and you were almost lulled to sleep by Max’s steady breathing. Your eyes opened when he suddenly moved above you, having sensed that you were two seconds from falling asleep when your hands stopped moving on his back.
“Okay,” he sighed heavily and stood up with a grimace, wobbling a little. You smiled slowly when he offered you his hands, pulling you up. “Time for bed.”
“I’m getting déjà vu.” You referred to an hour ago when you’d declared bedtime, only to end up a few meters away on the couch instead.
Max laughed, pulling you along toward the stairs and guiding you down a narrow hallway.
The morning after went as well as you’d imagine, waking up with Max snoozing quietly on his stomach with his hands shoved underneath the pillow. You’d ghosted a kiss on his cheek before getting up to get ready for the day. Sharing a room with Max during all the years had made you stealthy enough to perform your routines without him waking up, but it could also be because he slept like a rock and not even pans and pots in the hands of Lando and Daniel could bring him out of his dead sleep.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Daniel greeted you when you stepped foot into the kitchen, pulling everyone’s eyes toward you and you smiled awkwardly.
“Hi? Hey.” You carefully avoided George’s eyes as you walked around the counter, patting Heidi on the back in a silent greeting.
The look she gave you had your hackles rising a bit, but you pushed the paranoia away because surely George hadn’t gone and blabbed already? It was only - you looked at the clock - nine in the morning. Christ.
Charlotte handed you a mug of steaming coffee and you wordlessly took it, taking a small sip. “Thank you.”
Conversation picked back up again as you went on the hunt for toast, popping them in the toaster and pouring another cup of coffee for Max who’d probably woken up by now. Francisca talked about the boutique you’d be going to, waving Pierre off with a playful hand when he tried to invite himself into your girls day.
There was a slight lull in the chaos of three conversations happening in the space of the kitchen, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that Max had finally joined the party. You turned your head and almost smiled at his hair, wet from a shower and sticking up in all directions. He looked sleepy still, a little bleary eyed but he still managed to find you in the gaggle of people.
It warmed your heart a lot more than you’d like to admit when you watched his eyes light up as they settled on you, murmuring good morning’s and patting backs as he made a beeline for you.
You smiled at him. “Morning.”
Max accepted the mug of coffee you handed him, kissing your cheek in thanks and you leaned into it automatically. It was scary how fast you’d gotten used to his affection, but it felt so natural that you couldn’t bring yourself to question it.
“You look beautiful.” He complimented you, hand finding the hem of your dress to pluck at it with his fingers.
It was a plain old summer dress in white, one you’d worn a couple of times but it was Max’s favourite piece. It made your legs look amazing, and he was slightly mourning the thought of having to let you go out with the girls and not being able to ogle you openly.
“Thank you.” You smiled up at him.
“Is anyone gonna address the elephant in the room?” Lando spoke out, bringing the both of you out of your bubble you’d managed to create.
You turned around to look at the nosy group, rolling your eyes at your friend.
“Isn’t it clear?” Pierre balled up leftover bread from a loaf and chucked it at the Brit from across the table.
Charles frowned, glancing at you before looking over at his girlfriend who was smiling a little too brightly for your liking.
“Am I missing something?” Charles narrowed his eyes and looked at you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“You’re not.” You said, playfully glaring at your friends. “They’re just being idiots.”
George coughed, dodging an incoming slap to the arm from Carmen. Just that one gesture let you know that Carmen was aware of what had happened last night.
“Tell that to Carlos’ furniture.” He muttered but it was enough for Carlos to look up, frown deep in his face as his round eyes looked between George, you and Max.
“What?” He asked, confusion lacing his voice. “What did you say?”
Max coughed, hiding a laugh as he turned around to pick up his mug of coffee. You shot Kika a look that screamed help me and she didn’t even hesitate to hop up from the barstool and nod at the girls.
“Everyone ready?” She asked, earning a few replies as they gathered up their things for a day in town. "Vamos."
You watched in amusement before turning to Max, not really in the mood to leave him and he seemed to share those feelings, judging by the look on his face. His eyes flickered across your face, like he was trying to memorise it and you leaned into him.
“I’ll see you later?” He asked, like it was ever a question, watching you nod. He handed you the toast you’d prepared, giving you a look. “Eat up before you go.”
You tried to act like that small gesture didn’t make your heart absolutely crumble into ashes, not having the strength to refrain yourself from standing on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth.
“What the fuck?” Came Charles’ voice from somewhere and you laughed into Max’s lips before pulling back.
Max gave your behind a small pat and you turned around to leave the kitchen, thinking that you couldn’t wait to be back home.
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marlenesluv · 7 months
Text
Valentine’s Day Special!
Note: Hi, hi!! Happy (late) Valentines Day <3 Here’s some headcannons on Valetines Day with some of my favorite F1 Men! I hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: Its fluff, but then merges into nsfw, 18+, mdni pls!!
Drivers Included: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen.
Mastlist here -> Masterlist link
^ Check my list for all posts! ^
Lando Norris:
♡ Lando is a goofball, and might honestly forget it’s Valentine’s Day until the day before.
♡ But with that time he has, it’ll be so sweet.
♡ From waking up to breakfast, to going shopping, cuddling on the couch, and a nice dinner.
♡ No, he hasn’t had many girlfriends, but with the amount of rom-come you guys watch, he knows how to treat you.
♡ You’ll probably end up watching ‘When Harry Met Sally’ and both of you quoting it.
♡ Naturally, Lando is going to want to show you how much he loves you.
♡ The way you go to all the races you can, you support him, and love him infinitely.
♡ Lando also can’t stand your dress you wore to dinner. The slit on the side drives him crazy. And don’t even get him started on your neck. The way your hair was up made your neck easily accessible.
♡ But through and through, in my opinion, Lando is a tits guy. So, obviously, he’s going to all but rip your dress off.
♡ Hickies everywhere. They litter your neck, chest, stomach, and hips. And you can’t even find it in yourself to be upset.
♡ Lando can, and will if you let him, eat you out for hours. His jaw might go sore and his tongue may grow tired, but don’t think that means he’ll be stopping.
♡ He’s relentless. He wont stop till you’ve came about five times on his tongue.
♡ Don’t even think about “repaying” him for it. He’ll roll his eyes, “Tonight is about you, babe.”
♡ Lando isn’t rough, not tonight at least. He’s passionate and slow, letting you know how much you mean to him.
♡ It’s praise city, babe.
♡ “There you go, good job, baby.”
♡ “That’s my girl.”
♡ “Feel’s s’good, babe.”
♡ He makes sure you finish first, and the aftercare is top tier. It always is, but tonight he’s doing even more for you.
♡ The normal: water, snack, clean up, and cuddles.
♡ But tonight is extra plus all that: movie, bubble bath, massage, kisses, and candles.
♡ And when you show up to the track…let’s just say Oscar is scarred and a little concerned that his teammate is a vampire…
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Oscar Piastri:
♡ An absolute sweetheart 24/7.
♡ Spoiled you with gifts, 100%.
♡ And the detail for the gifts is incredible.
♡ Those shoes you mentioned two months ago? He bought them. The museum you wanted to go to? Already planned that vacation. Wanted to go to a concert? The front row tickets are there.
♡ He just loves you so much, one of his love languages is gift giving, I just know it.
♡ Even if Oscar was originally busy that day, he’s sorted his schedule because he just wants to spend time with you.
♡ Oscar is such loving person, he’s smothering you with cuddles all day.
♡ Seems like the type to reserve the whole side of your favorite area in your favorite restaurant.
♡ Even if you guys have to fly to France for your favorite food, he will.
♡ Maybe book a nice hotel room, he prefers it we’re soundproof though.
♡ And of course one of those gifts was a red lace lingerie set. It has little hearts, pretty trim, and seeing you in it after dinner is all he needs to die happy.
♡ He’s on you in seconds, hovering over you while you lay in the bed.
♡ Oscar treats you like a porcelain doll. He’s so careful with the set and your body. Not only does he not want to hurt you, but he wants to take his time.
♡ There’s no rush. Neither of you have anywhere to be, so why not enjoy it?
♡ Also praise city.
♡ “So pretty, love.”
♡ “Look at you, you’re dripping.”
♡ But he’s such a gentleman. He’s going to finish you off before he even thinks about himself.
♡ Oscar is way too sweet for his own good, he doesn’t even cum until you get down on your knees for him.
♡ Even then, he’s still worried about your pleasure.
♡ But afterwards, he’s helping you to the jacuzzi in the hotel. Bubbles and candles with the lights down low.
♡ Also some red wine he ordered and chocolates.
♡ He’s a romantic, obviously.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Charles Leclerc:
♡ Charles is so down bad for you.
♡ He wakes you up with coffee and breakfast…sure Joris had to come over to help, but it’s the thought that counts!
♡ To me, Charles is a mega quality time kind of guy.
♡ He will go to The Louvre with you, literally the whole day, and not complain once.
♡ He’s carrying your purse and water as you talk his ear off about the paintings.
♡ Charles honestly wouldn’t have Valentine’s Day any other way. He loves hearing you talk so passionately about the things you love.
♡ Plus, it’s the least he can do. You support him in every way possible!
♡ Then he’s taking you to lunch and shopping.
♡ Everything you see goes in the cart. He doesn’t care what you say.
♡ He will probably take you biking on sunset. A nice ride in Monaco while you guys talk and enjoy the nature.
♡ After you guys go biking, you’ll go back home. And while you were out, he asked Joris to pickup a few things from the store.
♡ He made a list of all of your favorite snacks and drinks.
♡ So when you get back, snacks are on the island, and a movie is set up on the tv.
♡ Yeah, Charles had to bribe Joris, but the look on your face was worth it.
♡ During the movie, you can’t help but try to get even closer to Charles.
♡ “Charles, it’s cold in here.”
♡ Insert cheesy sex by the fireplace.
♡ He’s also, like the other guys, very concerned with your pleasure.
♡ Also very praising, like seriously.
♡ “There you go, ma chéri. Taking me so well aren’t you?”
♡ And this man’s stamina is unmatched.
♡ Sleep? Yeah, forget it. He’ll be making you cum till the sun comes up.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Daniel Ricciardo:
♡ Daniel is obviously taking you on some extensive vacation for the span of Valentines week.
♡ Oh, yeah, not just Valentine’s day, no no, week.
♡ You guys go to France, because “it’s the most romantic place in the world, babe!”
♡ And he’s just so happy with himself.
♡ He planned the whole week out. From museums and shops, to tours and dinners and a thousand activities.
♡ Your feet might be sore, but Daniel will probably pay for new, comfortable shoes. Like Hooka’s. Because you only brought dress shoes. How were you supposed to know?!
♡ Daniel makes Valentine’s day even better than the week itself.
♡ Obviously, he’s made coffee for you two, and takes you out on the hotel balcony…..
♡ And Daniel comes up with idea…”Let’s just fuck right here.”
♡ And you agree “Ok.”
♡ Then you end up back against the railings and Daniel eating you out, “Be as loud as you want, honey. No one will hear you.” Which is a lie, but you don’t care.
♡ And his beard scruff rubbing on your thighs? Okay but it’s hot?
♡ Then he pretends like that didn’t happen when you’re in the elevator going down to see the city.
♡ Of course Daniel prepared and reserved a whole boat for dinner…what did you expect?
♡ He keeps telling you how much he loves you, how lucky he is to have you and how you support him.
♡ He’s a certified gusher, for sure.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Carlos Sainz:
♡ Carlos is just…he’s Carlos, so expect the most.
♡ Rose’s on the bed when you come home from work on the night before Valentine’s Day.
♡ When you wake up the next morning, the whole house is cleaned and he made a feast for breakfast. Of course he made his fluffy pancakes!
♡ His idea of a perfect day though? Relaxing at home.
♡ It’s something that you guys don’t do much due to your jobs.
♡ So the whole day is spent in pajamas, watching Game of Thrones while cuddling.
♡ Throughout the day, Carlos randomly ate you out on the couch, to which you gave him head in the kitchen, which led to sex in the bedroom and the poolside, which then led to shower sex…yeah, a lot of sex.
♡ But you guys never do this! Its always in the driver room, or a hotel, or his car, yes his car.
♡ And it’s nice to finally be able to spend time alone in your house.
♡ Carlos then makes a large dinner, too much food but he just wants to make all your favorites.
♡ He also bought you jewelry, even though you guys agreed no gifts this year..
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Max Verstappen:
♡ At first glance, one might not think that Max would really be into Valentines, but they are certainly wrong.
♡ Max loves Valentine’s Day. He loves showing you how much he loves you and buying you gifts.
♡ You wake up to a box where Max usually sleeps. When you open it, you find a soft robe that has a tage that says “wear me to the kitchen” so you do.
♡ “goodmorning, schat. i made eggs and toast!” and he’s so happy when he pours you a cup of coffee and gives you your food.
♡ He’s kissing you all damn day. On the cheek, forehead, lips, hand, anywhere he can that is socially appropriate.
♡ Max takes you shopping and pays for everything, even though you try to literally rip the card from his fingers to stop him, “unless you’re taking it to buy more things somewhere else, hands off.”
♡ He pays for your coffee, lunch, books, massage, and even dinner.
♡ “stop buying me things, max! i feel bad.”
♡ “for what? i just want to spoil my girl.”
♡ You eventually stop complaining. you really are grateful though. and you prove it for sure.
♡ He didn’t expect you to all but tear his jeans off to give him head as soon as you got home.
♡ “Ah, shit, liefde- oh my god.”
♡ “There you go, shit, taking all of me, hm?”
♡ Let’s be real, we all know you won’t be walking the next morning.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated!^-^)
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diejager · 3 months
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Hello, can I request a Monster!141 with a hybrid centipede!reader? I wanted to send you a request a long time ago, but I'm a person who easily forgets ideas. You may not write about it if you are uncomfortable.
Cw: monster cod, a lot (and I mean a fuck ton) of insects, pranks, infiltration and spying used for pranks, tell me if I missed any. Note: you have enabled me to use my love of arthropods to the fullest, thank you :D
Gaz had grown used to the occasional, but many, centipedes he’d see crawling up the wall or scurry under the closest furniture. The amount of insect - he knew it wasn’t the right term, you’d remind him that not every crawling arthropods were insects, but he couldn’t, for the love of God, remember the exact word you used - he’s seen over the few months was eerie, something drastically odd for a base kept so clean and the occasional exterminator coming by to try and rid them of this infestation. Though a common sight, he simply couldn’t get comfortable with the tenseness of his back and the invisible itch on his limbs whenever he thought of a centipede. 
He assumed it was a normal reaction, Soap had felt it, and so had Horangi and Alejandro, the crawling sensation on the back of their necks or the spasm of their finger. Much unlike the others who didn’t seem bothered by it, easily brushing aside any hint that they faced a centipede infestation, unmoved when one would crawl right by their faces. Perhaps he was only paranoid or over thinking it, all his thoughts crying out how unnatural this was despite how normal they looked: a dark brown body of segments that gleamed under any light and sharp, fiery orange legs, moving in rhythm with the taping antennae. 
It was always the same exact centipede —or it seemed so, the same shape, the same size, the same intimidating appearance. He couldn’t figure out the species without catching one, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it alone in case anything went wrong and it spooked him. So, he’d forced others to help him, having a squeamish Soap and a relaxed Rudy scout the open areas of the base with a transparent cup in hand. 
And when they did find one, Gaz was quick to slap the cup over one before it could scurry off - knowing how fast one can run - watching it’s legs carry it over the top of the cup, run circled and seemingly panic. Gaz almost felt bad for it while he waited for Rudy and Soap look up the species, the quiet tapping of its antennae against the plastic cup and snapping jaws (“Forcipules,“ Rudy had corrected him with a sly smile.). He wonder-
Crkk crkk
Gaz jolted towards the sound, eyes wide at the hundreds of centipedes gathering around them. An ocean of dark mass and cluttering that made Soap shudder and him step back from the one they kept imprisoned. He was amazed at the gathering, clustered around the cup to push it up and free their missing brother.
“Steamin’ Jesus!” Soap was quick to back as far away as he could from the swarm. 
Even Gaz was a bit panicked by how many there were, an innumerable amount of insect that not even an exterminator could possibly kill. 
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rudy laughed at something. Someone? It didn’t make sense, he wasn’t looking at Gazor Soap with those words, but the… the centipede?
He watched in horror and awe at the slowly forming shape, giants arthropods grouping up and climbing over each other until it finally took shape. You. You were the centipedes?!
“Of course, Rudy,” you chuckled smugly, eyeing both him and Soap from your spot beside Rudy, “And I’ve learned somuch.”
You learned so much… Gaz dreaded to know what you heard from any, if not all, of them.
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adventuringblind · 1 year
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Can I request an angst fic where reader is charles sister and she gets into accident (car accident or like wrong place wring time robbery, anything really) while he's in a race (lorenzo, arthur and their mother is with them) and xavi (🤢) is the one who answers charles' phone and decided not to say anything even after charles finishes the race and then the entire leclerc family find out after a reporter tells charles that "your nerves must be made of steel" and then everyone is confused and the reporter is all like "did no one tell you about your sister?" And like full angst when they find out that the accident hurt reader really bad (has problems with sight or maybe walking permanently, only if you're comfortable writing that) end it however you want, only if you want and if you are comfortable with this kind of stuff
Like Steel
Platonic!charles Leclerc x Sister!Reader
Genre: angst to fluff
Summary: Charles and his twin sister have always been close. Even being able to sense when something is wrong with the other. When Charles get confirmation after a race he was right, someone is to blame for his not knowing.
Warnings: car accidents, driving under the influence, hospitals
Notes: Xavi needs to get fired so my boy can have a chance. Also I don’t care if people smoke weed, but the amount of times I’ve almost been hit because someone was hotboxing their car is absolutely ridiculous.
Masterlist
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To say Charles is close with his twin is an understatement. They are practically glued at the hip. They know what the other is thinking or feeling before any communication is had. Their connection to each other was concerning at first. But anyone could see that the Leclerc twins are just close.
Charles had been there through all of her breakups. Both with guys he did and didn’t like. She had been there through every step in his racing career.
It’s funny to say steps now, he thinks. Since his sister can no longer take any.
She’d gotten a job as the admin for the Ferrari instagram. She loved chasing around Charles and Carlos so the fans could see what they got up to in their down time.
She has a contagious smile that everyone can’t help but love. Her and Daniel were menaces to the paddock while he did media things for Redbull.
She’d been on her way to the paddock for her brothers home race. Monaco was the only race on the calendar where she got to wake up at home to go to work in the morning. She had a few PR things to do around the city first before she could head to the track. So she’d left pretty early. Deciding to walk since everything is so close together.
Charles knew she hated being late. Maybe that’s why the alarm bells were going off before he got in the car.
He’d waiting for her to show at the meetings. Then again while he was getting ready. He search before he got into his car. Then looked for her when her when he got to his grid box.
He felt it in the pit of his stomach that something had happened.
He’d managed to end the race in in first. Something that didn’t happen often so he was ecstatic. The thing every driver craves was once again in his hands. His family was there when he got out of his car. All except the one person he wanted to celebrate with most. Maybe she’d just gotten caught up in her duties?
It was his turn to interview. The smile on his face and cheers of the crowd made the endorphins in his brain skyrocket.
“Congratulations Charles! You must have nerves like steel out there!”
Nerves? Why nerves? He’s not nervous.
The reporter caught onto his confusion. “We’re you not made aware of your sister?”
“No what happened? Where is she?”
The reporter signaled to turn the camera elsewhere. Then walked to Charles to let him know in a normal conversation fashion. He’s grateful because not many would do that. “She was hit by a car this morning and is in the hospital.”
His heart sank. He looked to his family and by their shocked expressions they also didn’t know.
“Your race engineer Xavi said he got word off it right before the race. We figured you’d been told already. I’m sorry for the mix-up.”
“No it’s okay that’s not on you.” The he’s walking away. His team doesn’t try to stop him and he tells Carlos to stand in his place on the podium. He’s lost to many people already. He refuses to also lose his sister.
He doesn’t remember the car ride. Only the angry feeling knowing at his insides. He saw the call Xavi had answered in his call log. They didn’t call anyone else since technically, he picked up.
The rage towards his race engineer is not helping him think clearly. If she dies and Charles isn't there for her, he's never going to forgive himself.
~
He broke.
He saw her in the bed with machines and tubes everywhere, and he broke. He sobbed into his mother's arms. Lorenzo and Aruther trying to console each other next to them.
It's ridiculous, he thinks, how one person can attract so much death. Maybe it's to soon to say she's dead but by the look of things, she's halfway there.
He stays with her. Her hurts for her. Their stupidly strong connection makes this all the more difficult.
Pascale has forced him to leave her bedside on multiple occasions. But he always goes begrudgingly and under the stipulation that someone will get him if there are any updates.
It’s a month before she finally wakes up. Coughing and panicking. Charles is at her side immediately. Fate is certainly on his side today.
“What happened?” She asks after she could finally talk again. Though her voice is raspy and dry.
“You were walking to the track and got hit by a car. They were smoking marijuana so they didn’t see you.” Oh how Charles raged about that too when he found out. The stupidity of people sometimes amazes him.
The next words out of her mouth make him think that fate is just playing games with him at some point.
“Charlie, I can’t feel my legs.”
~
Turns out the car they hit her shattered a part of her spine, leaving her paralyzed. Now bound to a wheelchair.
Charles had to go back to traveling while she was doing physical therapy. She’s doing her best to learn how to do life now with her new set of circumstances. She did think it was funny getting to zoom around in her wheelchair and whizzing past her brother.
Her first appearance back at the paddock is a surprise to all. Mainly because she intended it to be that way.
She navigates down the busy path towards the Ferrari hospitality, her mother trying to keep up.
She missed being here. Seeing everyone so excited about the sport.
She came to a skidding halt at the door. Curse the stairs. Why don't they have a ramp? She'll be having words with Charles about this later.
"Maman! Can you help me please!"
It takes effort. She's still not quite used to everything but she's learning.
She successfully gets inside the door and into the main area of hospitality. Hugs greet her as some of the staff make their way over.
Now, the next part of this plan. Her mother calls Charles and puts it on speaker.
"Hello?"
"Charlie, I just got word about your sister. I'm in hospitality-" She puts on her best worried parent voice.
"I'm on my way."
It takes approximately three minutes, and Charles is barreling through the door of security. His oblivieness becomes obvious as he misses her sitting in the middle of the room and is worriedly hugging his mom and asking her frantic questions.
"Is she- why are you laughing?"
Pascale is crying from laughing so hard. She gestures to where her daughter is waving and trying to get her brothers attention.
"Oh my god. You scared me so bad! Don't ever do that again!" He scolds them both. Then her embraces his sister.
"I'm excited to see you here!"
"Any news about Xavi?"
"He finally quit a couple days ago. I basically ignored him the last few races."
"And you've been doing better? You've won twice this month."
"And if I ever see him again, I'll make sure he never wants to be near an F1 car again."
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hideousvampire · 2 months
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trust this is real
fun fact i barely read johnnys responses i care about the songs far too much
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all the songs in order
ignore how all but one is by the flamingos
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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The Reid family live in the trailer opposite Eddie and Wayne’s. They’re a pleasant bunch, sure, but more importantly, they always give Eddie a freshly cooked burger on the Fourth of July, which he readily accepts—why would he waste his time on overpriced fair food when he could get it on his own doorstep for free?
Tonight’s burger is more than a little on the charred side.
It’s no big deal to Eddie (that’s how he prefers it, really), and he gets that you really have to keep an eye on some of those portable grills—otherwise you’ll end up with incinerated chunks of meat in the blink of an eye. But even so, it’s not like Matthew Reid to be so distracted.
“Wayne got the night off?” Matthew asks.
He keeps glancing over his shoulder towards his home, almost misses Eddie nodding. He puts another singed burger on a bun, then places it on Eddie’s plate.
“Thanks,” Eddie says. “Uh, I’ve got some sparklers kicking around, y’know, if the kid wants to…”
He makes it sound more of a happenstance than it had been: yes, he’s had a decent run of orders from seniors and recent graduates, all wanting to let off some steam at the county fair; money is a damn sight better than it had been.
But the truth is that Eddie had been saving up anyway, would’ve bought the sparklers even if funds were tight.
It’s become a little tradition at this point: making his own annual ‘firework show’ with the Reid’s son.
Eddie’s known Daniel since the kid was six years old—he’s fourteen now, still has a bright-eyed naivety that Eddie hopes Hawkins High doesn’t completely stamp out.
He’s got a shock of blonde curls and a gap tooth, loves swimming so much there’s a running joke in the town that he’s part dolphin, what with the amount of time he spends at the community pool.
When his parents had heard that Eddie was repeating senior year yet again, instead of going for the usual commiserations or ‘helpful advice’ angle, they just quipped that it would be good for their son to see a familiar face at high school.
To be honest, Eddie can’t see Daniel needing a familiar face all that much; he imagines that after the typical first year nerves have come and gone, the kid will settle in quite comfortably, that he’ll be on the swim team by October.
At the mention of sparklers, Matthew’s face falls. He looks back to his trailer again and says, “Ah, m’sorry Eddie, couldn’t get him outta bed. Maybe later?”
“Sure, no problem.”
Eddie leaves him to it—if they were closer, perhaps he could’ve encouraged Daniel outside, made a difference somehow. But he just knows the family with a distant kind of friendliness—a shouted, “Morning!” when he’s running late, or a wave at the end of a long school day, their lives only overlapping briefly.
He goes inside to give Wayne his burger, so when it happens, he almost misses it.
He’s pouring himself a glass of water when he hears Louise Reid shouting indistinctly. She’s not usually one to argue, although Eddie’s noticed that she’s seemed tetchy lately—only yesterday, he’d been woken up by the sound of an almighty row that, as far as he could tell, was just about misplacing a bottle of bleach.
By the time he’s out on his porch, he’s just in time to see the back of Daniel as he heads out of the trailer park. It doesn’t exactly look like he’ll stop for anyone.
Louise is watching him go, her lips a thin line.
“Just let him cool off, darlin’,” Matthew says.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do with him. That’s—that’s not normal, I don’t know what the hell’s going on in his head—”
”He’s a kid, Lou, he’s just acting up, that’s all. He’ll grow out of it.”
Louise sighs exasperatedly. When she shuts the front door, she does it with such force that it just bounces back open again. Neither she nor her husband fix it.
Eddie reckons that he’ll time it: fifteen minutes, give or take, and Daniel will be back. Ten minutes more, and he’ll have made up with his mom, before sheepishly asking Eddie for a sparkler.
Eddie’s left counting for much longer than fifteen minutes.
Matthew walks down the road leading up to the park’s entrance, over and over again. Comes back and shouts into his trailer, maybe a little frantically, that he can’t find Daniel, that maybe he’s gone to one of his friend’s places.
Eddie hears Louise start up a round of phone calls. A knot forms in his stomach as each one ends the same way. Call me if you hear anything.
It gets darker. Wayne heads out to the woods with Matthew, flashlights in hand, and it reminds Eddie of when they’d done the same not all that long ago, when Will Byers went missing.
The knot in his stomach grows. Tightens.
Wayne returns with a shake of the head. Eddie makes coffee just for something to do.
“They reckon he hitched a ride somewhere.”
Eddie scoffs. “Where the hell’s he gonna go, Wayne? Chicago?”
They drink their coffee on the porch. The Reid’s door is still left open, so when the phone rings again, it sounds as loud as a gunshot.
Someone picks up.
A scream.
“Wayne,” Eddie whispers. He feels suddenly desperate.
Wayne’s face is white. “Stay here, Ed.”
And then he’s running over to the Reid’s.
Eddie shouldn’t get closer. Shouldn’t look. But he does.
He tiptoes across the grass, just close enough so he can see…
Louise is on the floor. She’s clinging onto the wall phone, the cord stretched to breaking point, and Wayne’s talking to her, too softly for Eddie to make out; he gets down on his knees and puts an arm around her.
Her scream turns into wailing, then guttural sobs.
Eddie staggers backwards.
A flashlight being dropped on concrete. Matthew running inside.
“Lou? Lou! Jesus, what’s—”
Eddie looks away.
He goes back home, tries to shut out the noise. No matter how loudly he plays music, he can still hear them.
Eventually Wayne returns; he doesn’t say anything, just switches Eddie’s music off and puts on the radio.
There’s names being read out. Daniel is one of them.
Eddie sits out on the roof that night. He lights a sparkler, thinks about writing Daniel’s name in the sky, and then is immediately furious at himself for the thought. The kid should be here to do it himself.
When he eventually falls asleep, it’s to the memory of a sparkler burning the back of his eyelids.
A few days pass in what feels like one slow blink.
Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself. He ends up just wandering down town—it’s ghostly quiet here, has been so ever since the mall opened.
It’s overcast, as if the tragedy has made summer die quicker. That doesn’t stop Eddie’s skin from itching.
There’s a small diner near where Radio Shack once existed; it’s a hole in the wall, still somehow in business.
Eddie doesn’t know why he goes in. He hasn’t even brought his wallet.
All he knows is that he’s suddenly inside, and the place is absolutely dead, and the only person sat at a booth is—
“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. “What happened to your face?”
Steve Harrington stares back at him, looks decidedly unimpressed. There’s a basket of fries in front of him, and he’s presumably going for the ‘stoic silence’ route, because he picks up a fry, goes to eat it, and immediately winces. No fucking wonder, too; it’s a miracle he can even try and eat anything through that busted lip.
Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, doubt something hot with salt was the best choice, Harrington, considering uh,” he waves a hand in front of his face, “everything.”
Steve frowns. “I just wanted them,” he says, on the edge of petulant, and Eddie wonders if he also ended up here by chance; if his skin is itching, too.
“Hang on,” Eddie says.
At least he has something to do now.
He asks for a cup of ice at the counter, wraps up some cubes inside a bunch of paper towels. He brings it back to Steve, who’s watching him in faint surprise.
“Uh. Thanks, Munson.”
Eddie shrugs.
Steve takes the bundle of towels, pressing them to his lips with a small hiss. He nods for Eddie to sit opposite him.
It’s a whole lot, up close: one of Steve’s eyes is heavily swollen, and along with the busted lip, his face is a mess of fresh bruises that must ache something fierce.
“You can ask,” Steve says, mumbled from talking behind the ice. He sounds resigned, like he’s one step away from adding everyone else does.
“All right.” Eddie crosses his arms. “What happened?”
“I worked at the mall. Broken down elevator.” Steve slams his hand down on the table. “It dropped.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie mutters.
But his mind is already elsewhere.
Steve’s unaffected eye narrows. Shit. He’s on to him.
“What’s eating you, Munson?”
“It’s just…” Eddie sighs, leans forward. “So a fire broke out. Like, after closing? But people were still inside.”
Steve doesn’t blink. “You ever worked in retail? People just hang around for no reason.”
“Sure, but—but—” Eddie feels a sudden urge to tug on his hair in frustration. “But he wouldn’t do that, he’d…”
Steve sets down the paper towels. “Who wouldn’t?” he says quietly.
Eddie tells him.
Steve listens in silence. He shifts in his seat when Eddie’s done and says, almost gently, “It sounds like he went to—”
“No, he hated the mall,” Eddie says vehemently. “Dragged his feet when his folks took him to the opening. He wouldn’t—he’d—I don’t know! All of it, it’s—”
“Crazy,” Steve finishes. He looks down. “Yeah. I know.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it, man. And, like, that family never fought, but the day before it—his mom was biting his head off over, like, losing some bleach or something stupid like—woah, Jesus, you okay?”
Because Steve suddenly looks like he might be sick. He swallows, breathes in and out cautiously.
“I’m fine.”
Eddie pauses. “Okay,” he says, uncertain. When Steve looks a little less pale, he goes on; he can’t stop himself. “I just—what if—did you, um. Did you see him?”
“No,” Steve says slowly. “But Eddie,” he says, and for some reason, he almost sounds like he’s pleading, “he was there.”
“How do you know? How does anyone—you know, like Will Byers, everyone thought… And then he…”
“It’s not always like that,” Steve says, sounds both sad and bitter. “Some people just stay dead.”
It’s a lousy rebuttal, in Eddie’s opinion, but for some reason it hits him anyway, leaves him abruptly exhausted. He runs a hand over his face.
“Yeah.” He steps out of the booth. “See you around, Harrington.”
“Wait.” Steve gets up too, with slow ginger movements. His fries remain untouched. “If I brought my car, I’d have given you a ride home, but…”
“Don’t think you’re in any condition to be driving,” Eddie says.
Steve gives a tiny shrug with one shoulder. “You wanna get the bus?”
“I didn’t bring any money.”
“It’s fine, I’ll get your ticket. I’m just gonna ride all the stops anyway.”
And it’s an unexpectedly comforting thought, that Steve is also at a loss for what to do.
They go to the back of the bus, sit in silence for the first couple of stops. Steve turns from where he’s been looking out the window and says, “Are you still, y’know, doing your thing?”
Eddie’s used to that being a euphemism for “Are you still selling?” But then he sees that Steve is miming a dice being thrown, and he’s momentarily surprised into a half-smile.
“Yeah. Will be, when school starts up again.”
He’d typically be using the summer as time to work on a new campaign, but that had gone out of his head with… everything.
They’re nearly at Forest Hills when Steve speaks again.
“I… I knew him. Not like you did, but I—I used to be a lifeguard, and his butterfly was phenomenal, I’d get the stopwatch out sometimes. There was a group of us, we worked on rotation, we’d call him part—”
“Dolphin,” Eddie says. “Yeah. That’s right.”
He feels his bottom lip threaten to go. Stupid. He rubs the feeling out with the tips of his fingers, digging in harshly.
It’ll be his stop soon. He stands up to make his way to the front, doesn’t expect Steve to rise with him, but he does. His breathing is suspiciously light; Eddie suspects he’s got some broken ribs to go with the pummelled face.
“Eddie,” he says, and even though he’s keeping his balance perfectly well, his hand brushes Eddie’s wrist anyway.
It’s not enough to chase away the itch in Eddie’s skin. But for a fleeting second, it helps. It helps.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “It sucks to lose someone.”
It’s a platitude, but there’s feeling behind it. Weight.
Eddie wants to say that he didn’t lose anyone, that the thought would be a disservice to Daniel’s parents, but…
It’s like Steve’s words give him permission to feel it. Just for now.
“Thanks,” he says tightly. On the last step before he exits, he turns and says, “Rest up, Harrington.”
“Oh yeah,” Steve says. “I’ll be here for hours.”
It’s said like it’s a joke, but Eddie thinks he means it.
Steve’s halfway back to his seat when the bus turns back onto the road, but he manages to wave just before he disappears from view.
Eddie starts the short walk home.
The Reid’s trailer is dark, a For Sale sign placed in front of it. Eddie hadn’t even known they were leaving, must have missed it in the haze of the last few days.
He gets it; if he were in their shoes, he doesn’t know if he could have stayed either. Everything would be a reminder of their son—the places he’d go, where he should be.
But he almost wishes that they were still here, so he could try and stumble his way through telling them Steve Harrington knew your son. He’ll remember him, too.
He doesn’t know if that would’ve been a comfort or not. He doesn’t know.
People come and go. Steve won’t be on that bus forever—he’ll go home eventually. July will become August will become…
Eddie lets himself in and collapses onto his bed. There’s still a prickle of wrongness in his skin, but he can’t untangle it. There’s nothing to make sense of.
He finds one of his journals. There’s some notes he made for a future campaign only last month. Feels like a lifetime ago.
He ignores the remaining unlit sparklers left in a corner of his room. Starts to write.
He can control this world, at least.
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inchidentally · 2 days
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"short and easier to read" babe I am so sorry to you and everyone else for how my insane posts come out - it's why I link to so much stuff bc it is a struggleee for me to not write just run-on sentences ;__; but I do get what you mean and I promise I tried my best - it's def shorter than the og and in smaller bites if that helps ??
(I actually wrote this on someone else's laptop so it's got proper punctuation and capitalization and everything!)
For those who don’t know: Oscar is an acts of service guy Lando is a words of affirmation guy. Let’s remember that someone’s love language is how they choose to express themselves, not what they should demand of others!
Oscar is also very much not a PR guy, for anyone totally oblivious to the obvious (and that all his "greatest hits" in PR were done unintentionally or bc he's awkward or bc his mom is cooler than him). For example, Oscar brings up his girlfriend of 4-5 years a fair amount but it’s almost hilariously not gushy or romantic (having a “cuddle” is as far as it goes lasfgjlsagfl). But he’s said himself that for the most part he’d prefer not to have too much private life available to the public. *His downtime with Lando joins in with all his other social life in being extremely limited to the public. 
The “thanking the sponsors” thing is one of Oscar’s safe, approved speeches he pulled from Andrea so that Oscar doesn’t have to do spontaneous on-camera speaking. Sorry but not all of us are good at it and it’s wayyyy easier to just have some rehearsed pre-approved soundbites. He tends to have a few that he repeats for a while until he updates the list lsafjslafhlafh.
He also very openly struggles to do on-camera speaking and no one knows that better than Lando who’s had to help him a huge amount. 
It does seem to be mostly cameras that make him stressed bc he was fine thanking Lando for his help in Baku at the fan stage in Singapore and overall he can use more of his dry humor when he's speaking to people rather than just to a camera. 
Lando’s recent inclusion of Oscar in his media responses to this degree is a reaction to Hungary and Monza - normally, his post race responses focus on himself and his own performance (which is literally normal and the default for drivers!!). The recent emphasis on teamwork/Oscar is something he feels he needs to do with his own PR work right now. He’s a smart man who’s been doing this a long time, so his reasons are valid no matter what fans think. He’s not sitting there working out or analyzing Oscar’s PR, just his own. 
People are absolutely running away with themselves over Monza and ignoring that apart from that one moment, Oscar is widely popularly seen as the supportive teammate role. To the point where last year and even part of this year, Lando was criticized by a lot of fans for not acknowledging Oscar enough.
Going off of that, let’s show how easy it is to take PR and media to make one of them look bad by turning it around onto Lando (!! this is for an example, I do NOT endorse hating on Lando for any of it !!)
Lando openly disliked being referred to as the “older teammate” and kinda left Oscar to his own devices so much last season that Oscar wouldn’t know where he was going a lot of the time and even semi-joked “my teammate’s abandoned me” (again, reminder this was not a source of drama for anyone but fans). He got called a little duckling a lot bc he’d tail Lando closely so as not to lose him. In fact it started irking some people that Lando would spend so much time with Carlos or Daniel and not getting to know his new teammate and helping him out with his rookie season of F1 the way Carlos did for Lando.
In every team photo where Lando has had a podium and Oscar has had nothing (and sometimes due at least in part to team orders!) which is very often! the comments sections have always had plenty of ‘Oscar is such a great team player, always happy and showing up for Lando no matter what’. So the whole ‘Oscar doesn’t do enough for Lando’ narrative is extremely recent and at odds with the rest of reality.
Please read the very first part of my enormous full post bc Lando didn’t thank Oscar for his Miami win, he praised his driving.
Even though at Silverstone this year Lando got on the podium and Oscar didn’t, Oscar made the fan stage all about bringing Lando out of his disappointment and even said he did the shoey “to make us feel better” and then dedicated the top row of his IG that week to photos and videos of him and Lando. Special note that this is in no way Oscar’s home race and he was solely seeing it as emotional for Lando and McLaren - and he had zero reason to personally be very happy after that weekend.
I’ve seen Melbourne this year get mentioned in the team orders discussions on my fyps, so that’s a handy example in many ways: Despite Melbourne being Oscar’s literal hometown race - and Lando even filming some Quadrant stuff at Oscar’s childhood karting track where a corner is named after him* - this year Lando didn’t acknowledge Oscar really at all over the weekend until someone mentioned him at the end of the podium press conference. Lando acknowledged that Oscar following team orders made his (Lando’s) drive a bit easier in Melbourne this year but said that he was faster than Oscar and deserved third over him anyway. (Good contrast to Hungary and even Carlos stating that something an undercut due to pit strategy shouldn’t erase one teammate being faster/more dominant in a race in order to give the other teammate the win!) He did PR work with pretty much everyone except Oscar actually, even doing promo for his (Lando’s) dad’s electric scooters on the new dotmov acc. Kind of like him being on a similar PR campaign at Singapore this year because of a sneak preview of Quadrant rebranding and announcing the Landostand at Silverstone  - he went for the biggest PR hits and posted Daniel on his jpg account, did a golf day with Carlos and Max F and was more active on socials than he had been for months. All while only having Oscar in one photo out of the whole weekend’s carousel despite the McLaren double podium. You could even read into him cutting Oscar and Oscar’s trophy out of two of the shots if you wanted! (He did include Oscar in the big group photo after the podium celebrations.)
*I saw some ppl say he didn't include Oscar in the Melbourne karting filming bc McLaren doesn't cross over with Quadrant, which isn't true. Zak has shares in Quadrant and Bianca has been included in the Quadrant rebranding launch with Lando's Singapore helmet design.
See how easy that was to flip it around?? If you’re even slightly biased against a driver or never see flaws in another- or are dying for two teammates to hate each other - then confirmation bias will always find plenty of “evidence”! Because the reality is that after the Austin GP, Lando found his “older teammate” mode and began helping Oscar out with his rookie year. In Melbourne, Lando spent his first day filming for his .mov account including the Oscar jersey and merch he came across - and Oscar mentioned how he and Lando talked about Lando filming at his old track. (Again, not PR coordinated or filmed, just mentioned!) And that after the Singapore race this year, they beamed at each other every other second of that night, filmed a deliriously happy post race video and joked in the cool down room - I honestly doubt have even noticed yet what the other has posted to IG salfhsalfafa. All of the negativity fans are coming up with is their own personal spin and does not resemble how Lando and Oscar are behaving to or speaking about each other.
They base their relationship on their conversations and interactions solely away from the public and the cameras and don’t do any inflammatory commentary about each other. They bragged about the door in the team hub that separates their drivers rooms from everyone else and leaves them open only to each other. Their communications only matter to each other when in private.
Segueing on from that: media and social media are literally PR. Lando is extremely skilled at it now and Oscar is not at all naturally skilled and is still learning. Lando is quick to be able to adapt his media responses, Oscar is not and often sounds stilted and uncomfortable. But it still has nothing to do with how they think of each other and talk to each other personally.
And “Landoscar” has never had the typical PR bromance aspect that we all love in other teammates, and it never will. Lando and Oscar mention but don’t broadcast or package their downtime together and they don’t share their private dynamic with fans or the media apart from the glimpses we see in more relaxed content. It’s just their choice! And just like it doesn’t mean Lando and Oscar are less friends because they don’t PR their relationship, it doesn’t mean the friendships who do utilize PR are less friends! 
And tbh that’s a good note to leave on: that seeing two drivers with no PR to gain from openly liking and respecting each other should mean that we as fans place less importance on the PR responses they give to media and put on social media. So many people want them to hate each other (Netflix even begging them outright) and rivalries get far more headlines and fan engagement, that if these two didn’t like each other or even were blah about each other, they wouldn’t waste time trying to fake it (side note ppl actually thought this joke was deadly serious for a short while). F1 isn’t team sports, no one really cares if drivers or teams appear “friendly” unless they’re desperate for money/engagement to keep them afloat (even there, Alpine prove it clearly isn’t a priority to have friendly teammates when you’re lower down the grid!)
There is absolutely nothing to be gained for them in faking the smiles and laughter and twinning. Equally there’s nothing to be gained by us as fans in judging them and their relationship based on their PR responses and PR work. Lando beams and smiles the same at Oscar after all of Oscar’s awkward, stiff debrief speeches and I kind of want one of these crazy stans to say to him that Oscar is a bad team player and doesn’t show Lando enough appreciation just to watch what his adorable face does in response (don’t do that I’m joking).
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racetowrite · 9 days
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Let me love you
Support a disabled creator
Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x f!reader
Tags : insecure reader, oral!fem!receiving, Daniel workshipping you like a goddess
Word Count : 2.2k
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It had been a strenuous few months for you as a race engineer at Red Bull. The stress and pressure were unrelenting, leaving you feeling constantly overwhelmed. To cope, you had unfortunately taken up smoking again, and eating had become an afterthought as you worked long hours. When you finally returned home or to the hotel, you were often too exhausted to do anything but collapse into bed and fall asleep immediately.
Daniel was your boyfriend, and he was well aware of your tendency to overwork yourself and skip meals. It worried him to see how driven you were, often neglecting your own well-being for the sake of your job. He dtarted subtly intervening by bringing you more snacks and offering you meals together. He knew it was the only way to get you to take a break from work.
One day, as you were working at your desk, Daniel walked into your office, a casual smile on his face. "You up for lunch?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You felt a pang of guilt as Daniel asked if you were up for lunch. You did have a lot of work on your plate, and the thought of taking a break felt like more of a burden than a relief.
"I... I really should finish these reports," you said reluctantly, gesturing to the piles of paperwork on your desk.
He leaned over your desk, gently taking the pen from your hand and turning your chair towards him. "Babe, you need to eat something. You're going to pass out anytime now."
His voice was affectionate and concerned, his eyes searching your weary face. "You haven't had anything but coffee all day," he pointed out gently. "You need more than that, love. I'm not leaving this office until you eat something."
You were secretly struggling with insecurities about your weight, and sometimes you purposely tried to limit your food intake as a way to cope. However, you were careful not to let on about this to Daniel, knowing how he would react if he found out.
Daniel was aware that you tended to skip meals and didn't eat enough, but he wasn't aware of the reason behind it. You tried to hide your insecurities by making up excuses or downplaying your lack of appetite.
Daniel tried to persuade you to eat something, but you firmly declined, making up excuses about having work to do or not being hungry. He had a feeling there was something more behind your refusal to eat, but he wasn't sure what it was.
His face grew increasingly concerned. "Babe, this isn't normal," he said gently. "You haven't eaten anything all day. I know you're busy, but you can't just push eating aside like that."
He studied your face, seeing the tension and the forced nonchalance. It was clear to him that something was wrong, even though you were trying to hide it. He moved closer, taking your hands in his.
"Babe, talk to me," he said quietly, his voice filled with earnestness. "I can tell something is bothering you. Please just tell me what it is."
Your relationship with Daniel had been made public a few months ago, and it had brought a surprising amount of media attention, not only because you were his girlfriend, but also because you were his race strategist at Red Bull.
People had made comments about your weight, even though you were in good shape. You weren't the typical model-type that Formula One drivers usually dated, and some people seemed to believe you didn't fit the mold.
This unexpected attention and scrutiny had made you even more self-conscious, fueling your insecurities about your weight even further. Daniel had noticed the change in your behavior, but he didn’t know the full extent of how it was affecting you.
You continued to make excuses, insisting you were too busy to eat. Daniel, however, wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms, looking at you with a stern but concerned expression.
"I'm not leaving this office until you eat something," he said firmly. Your breath hitched in your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. No one had ever cared enough to force you to eat before, and the sudden display of concern was overwhelming.
Daniel immediately noticed the tears in your eyes and his expression softened. He moved closer, lifting your chin gently to look at him.
"Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "Just please, eat something. For me. You need to take care of yourself."
The tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked at Daniel, his concerned and caring expression melting your resolve. You couldn't keep the secret from him anymore.
"I- I'm sorry," you said in a choked voice, your words shaky. "I just... I've been feeling so insecure lately. The comments about my weight after we went public... they got to me more than I wanted to admit.”
Daniel's face filled with understanding and empathy as you finally confessed the real reason behind your lack of eating. He gently wiped away a tear from your cheek.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice full of tenderness. "I had no idea you were feeling like that. I hate that those comments got to you, you're perfect the way you are."
He pulled you into a gentle hug, enveloping you in his warmth. "You shouldn't take any stock in what those people say," he continued, his voice firm. "They don't know you like I do. You're intelligent, strong, and beautiful, and no amount of media attention will ever change that, okay?"
He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. "And as for your weight, you are healthy, and you look amazing. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to change anything about yourself to fit some impossible standard, alright?"
His eyes bore into yours, full of love and support. "Promise me you'll stop listening to those idiots in the media and start taking care of yourself. I don't care what anyone says, you're perfect to me.”
Despite the tears still streaming down your face, you felt a sense of relief and comfort wash over you. Being able to finally share your insecurities with Daniel and have him respond with such care and understanding made you feel a sense of security you hadn't felt in weeks.
Daniel stood up from his chair and walked over to the door, locking it firmly. He turned back to you, a determined look in his eyes.
"No distractions," he said, walking back over to your desk. Daniel returned to your side, looking into your eyes with unwavering sincerity. "We’re not leaving this room until you realize just how beautiful you truly are," he said firmly, his tone gentle yet insistent.
“Look at me." he gently cupped her face with his hands. "Look at me." he softly commanded. "You're beautiful. You're strong. You're the most amazing woman I know.”. He leaned in and softly kissed her lips. "And right now, you're mine.”
He continued to kiss her, his lips soft and gentle at first, but soon growing more insistent as he tried to erase the tears from her eyes with his kisses. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into it.
As he held her close, Daniel's hands began to gently remove her clothes, piece by piece, until she was standing before him in nothing but her underwear. He paused for a moment, looking at her with a soft smile.
He reached out and traced a finger along the curve of her hip, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Let's start with here," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the small scar above her hip bone. "And then here," he continued, moving to the faint stretch mark on her thigh.
Daniel's voice was a low rumble, his breath warm against your skin as he continued to trace the contour of your body with his lips and hands.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are, my love," he murmured, his touch becoming more possessive as he pulled you closer to him. "Every inch of you is perfect, and I want you to see that."
You felt vulnerable under Daniel's intense gaze, the insecurity and self-doubt that had plagued you for so long resurfacing once more. You fidgeted under his touch, feeling exposed and unsure.
"I'm not... I don't look like the other women that you've been with," you muttered, your voice tinged with doubt.
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth and adoration as he gently kissed the soft skin of your stomach. "Shh, none of that," he whispered, his voice soothing. "You're perfect just the way you are. Every scar, every stretch mark, every freckle, every imperfection..”
"...makes you, you." He emphasized his words with slow, tender kisses along your belly, up to your breasts. "And you are beautiful." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap, his strong hands caressing your back, your waist, your thighs.
His touch became more confident, more urgent as his hands roamed over your body. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, his hands squeezing your breasts gently before sliding down to your hips and thighs. "Spread your legs for me," he whispered hoarsely.
As you complied, he slid a hand down your body and cupped you over your underwear. He looked up at you, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire. "You're beautiful, everywhere,” he rasped, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down.
His hands gripped your thighs, parting them wider as he lowered his head. His breath was hot against your cunt, his hands firm on your thighs as he began to kiss and lick you slowly. His touch was gentle yet insistent, his tongue parting your folds to taste you deeply.
His tongue delved deeper, fucking your pussy with long, slow strokes. He sucked on your clit, his lips gentle yet firm, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His hands held your thighs in a vice-like grip, keeping you open for him as he ate you out relentlessly.
The room filled with the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the sound of his eager sucking and the slick noises of his fingers pumping in and out of you. His hands tightened on your thighs, his touch possessive as he devoured you. "Daniel, please."
Daniel's fingers pumped in and out of you, the cold metal of his rings pressing against your sensitive flesh. Every time he pushed into you, you could feel the ridges of his rings, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god. Daniel, it's too much."
"Shh, baby," he murmured against your wet flesh, his breath hot as he continued to suck and lick. "It's not enough until you're coming all over my face." His rings pressed into you again and again, the sensation overwhelming as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your hips bucked against his mouth. The cool metal of his rings on his fingers mixed with the heat of his mouth and the pressure of his hands on your thighs, pushing you higher and higher. "Daniel... I'm- I'm going to-“
He swallowed your cry as your orgasm hit, his mouth devouring your pussy as you came hard on his face. His fingers pumped into you relentlessly, the rings dragging against your g-spot and sending you into a second, even more intense orgasm.
As you trembled and shook through your climax, Daniel finally pulled his mouth away, his lips glistening with your juices. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he spoke.
He gently pushed you back on the sofa from your office, his hands sliding up your sides as he kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, the evidence of your passion mingling with his eager kisses. "Daniel, please, don’t make me beg.” you begged breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Daniel broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, his expression intense. "Look at me," he commanded softly. "I want you to know that you are beautiful, inside and out. Every curve, every freckle, every little gasp and moan you make, it's all perfect. Understand?"
He waited for your nod of understanding before leaning down to kiss your collarbone, his hands caressing your full breasts. "You deserve to be worshipped," he whispered against your skin. "And I'm going to show you for the rest of my life just how beautiful you are.”
His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands mapping out every inch of your body. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, his touch reverent as he showed you just how beautiful he thought you were. His fingers trailed along your thighs, parting them gently as he knelt between them.
The sudden ringing of Daniel's phone shattered the intimate moment, jolting both of you back to reality. He reached for the phone, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he read the message on the screen.
"Damnit," he muttered, his voice frustrated. "I have to go and get ready for qualifying."
He set his phone aside and looked at you, his expression softening.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I know we were in the middle of something, but I really need to get going."
He leaned in to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours for a moment before he pulled back.
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sebscore · 2 years
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FEMALE F1 DRIVER HEADCANONS 
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pairing: f1!drivers x fem!driver, f1 grid x oc
warnings: i didn't specify which team, cause it's not really about that tbh. I imagine the oc being one of the younger ones on the grid (around mick's age). I based this one on the 2022 grid. 
author's note: this is basically how things i imagine that would happen with the grid if you were their only female colleague. 
▹ seb and lewis basically being your work parents: defending you from misogynistic reporters, praising you to heaven and back, claiming you are right even when you are obviously wrong in a situation. sewis supports women's rights, but mostly women's wrongs.
▹ the wags either absolutely adore you or they tolerate you, there's no in between. It's girls support girls until one of their boyfriends gives you a hug and then you're fucked. 
▹ getting away with wrong answers in 'Grill the Grid' because the production team are totally in love with you and they hate your sad face when you give them an incorrect response.
▹ giving the grid nicknames that go from normal to borderline weird. for example, Mick becomes Mickie, Latifi becomes Nicky or Goatifi (depends on how the race went), Alex is Albono of course, George becomes Russy Bussy and Lando is Rumplestiltskin. 
▹ at the driver's briefing: ''alright, boys-'' *scratches voice loudly* ''and lady.'' 
▹ valtteri and kevin letting you ramble to them about whatever drama you have going on in your life, cause they don't have much better things to do and they find it touching that you go to them for these kinds of things. 
▹ you and zhou sending pictures of the outfits you're going to wear to the paddock during race week. sometimes even matching, cause yall are close like that. 
▹ max teaching you his second language that is called 'swearing'. checo also likes to chime in. one time he convinced you the word 'cunt' was a compliment and he made you go up to max and call him that to congratulate him on his race win. let's say mad max made a brief appearance. 
▹ jokingly flirting with other drivers just to rile toxic fans up for fun. the flirting consists honestly mostly of sarcastic comments about how they're good drivers, but better lovers, etc. 
▹ fernando giving you random piggyback rides. for what reason? no one knows. It's nando, what do you expect. danny ric also does it sometimes, but he makes horse sounds and it freaks you out. 
▹ you and esteban jokingly asking lance for pocket money, but you two sometimes hope he actually gives it one day. 
▹ weekly gossip sessions with Pierre, because that man seems to know everything about everyone. occasional guest starring by charles and yuki. 
▹ whenever carlos walks into the room, you start playing 'smooth operator'. at first he thought it was funny, but now he deliberately avoids you. 
▹ overdramatic photoshoots with lando and daniel aka the papaya boys for their insta accounts. those jpg accounts are honestly just fan pages for you, because of the amount of times you've appeared on them.
▹ overdramatic photoshoots with lando and daniel aka the papaya boys for their insta accounts. those jpg accounts are honestly just fan pages for you, because of the amount of times you've appeared on them.
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slutforpringles · 5 months
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What do you think is actually behind the Danny bashing on social media and Reddit lately?
I find it really puzzling, to put it mildly. As if the decision over an RBR or VCARB seat is simple enough to decide 4 races into a 24-race season, which it certainly isn’t.
Some of the Yuki and Liam fans seem to be really young, and for some of them, there seems to be some sort of weird ageism involved in their anti-Ricciardo ranting.
But some of it seems to be an enjoyment of tearing someone down who’s always been popular, despite him not misusing or abusing that popularity
IDK - what are your thoughts, please?
Hey anon! This is actually a really interesting question, and I’d be really interested to hear other people’s thoughts and opinions on too. I think probably how much time you spend online and on which online platforms does probably affect your viewpoint, and obviously this is just my take on the growing anti-DR sentiment based on what I’ve seen/ experienced. 
I think it’s definitely multi-faceted, which is partly why there’s so much of it at the moment, because multiple situations/things have fed into the Daniel hatred. 
I think a very large percentage of it is simply the influx of new fans into the sport that have only seen Daniel drive from the McL era onwards. 
I think a lot of people are consuming more and more F1 content from non-trustworthy sources (e.g. instagram and twitter update accounts, non-reputable websites) that use clickbait and unsubstantiated rumours to create maximum drama. I think this has been particularly tricky for Daniel, because his popularity has made him a super target since 2021 for this.
I think there's a growing sentiment of annoyance at the limited number of seats available to enter F1, particularly for fans of younger drivers who have watched them go through the feeder series and feel it is unfair that they aren’t being given a chance in F1. I think this has become even louder since F1 rejected Andretti’s bid, and I think struggling or older drivers become a much easier target for expressing that frustration than an entire sport/regulatory body.
I think the more recent wave of fans being more critical of driver’s public opinions and thoughts on social/political/moral issues has probably increased scrutiny on Daniel, too. And while I completely agree with fans expecting more and better from drivers, I think there’s a huge amount of hypocrisy and recency bias when it comes to some very vocal online fans and fanbases, which I think also underscores how many of them are part of the new wave of F1 fans. (E.g. I see ample criticism of Daniel from fans of driver’s who refused to kneel during 2020 that are clearly totally unaware that Daniel was one of the loudest supporters of Lewis during 2020 and BLM protests)
I think it’s also just part and parcel of the growing extreme polarisation of the internet. It seems people are becoming far more used to extreme polarisation in general, and the echo chambers of social media and the wider internet algorithms are only continuing to exaggerate that. People also seem to be less and less civil online, and while places like twitter have been a toxic wasteland for a long time, that toxicity and complete lack of normal human interaction has started to affect other online spaces too.
And yeah I do agree that there seems to be a certain percentage of fans that just seem to enjoy revelling in a driver’s struggles, and love to tear down someone who seems to be a happy bubbly person. And while some of that is maybe inherent sports tribalism (which I’m not really on board with tbh), I really think it’s reached a whole new low.
OK sorry I didn't mean for this to be such a long response! Hope that answers your question and I’d love to hear if anyone else has other thoughts/opinions too!! 🙂
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