#makes me wish I could podium lol

[rulesforthedance]

Look how sick the trophy is for the 50 miler I want to run

(photo by Nick Atkins)

[vivwritesfics]

Cat Mom 🤝 Cat Dad

Max likes being anonymous on these bengal cat forums. He likes making friends and talking about his cats without his own name attached to it. The Italian princess likes the same thing (jeez I wonder what happens next)

I had to do a special one for the actual day of my birthday lol

Jim&Sass

Help! My cat got stuck in another room!

Jam&Toast

Dude get offline and go help them!

Jim&Sass

What do I do! The door is stuck!

Jam&Toast

Get a hammer!

Max did just that. He didn't knew the person giving him advice, but he knew her cats. Jam and Toast. Her post showing off her pretty cats, two bengals, were how he knew her. There was nothing else about her, just her cats.

It wasn't a lot that he knew about it, but it was enough. He didn't know that she was sitting eagerly by her laptop, waiting for his confirmation that his cat was all right.

Jimmy and Sassy's dad was an enigma. But Jimmy and Sassy looked sweet and the stories he told about them were adorable.

That was what she called him in her head, Jimmy and Sassy's dad. She was sure her name in his head was similar. Jam and Toast's mum.

Jam&Toast

Did you get them out?

There was a moment where he didn't respond, where he must have been getting the cat out of the other room. Her perfectly manicured nail was between her teeth, but she didn't bite down.

Her nail had been perfectly done for when the driver's arrived for Monza.

His icon popped up in the bottom of the screen, three little dots beside it. She leaned forward as his message appeared on her screen.

Jim&Sass

Sassy is safe

Not sure what I'm gonna do about the giant whole in my door

Jam&Toast

Oh, you've got to show me that door

A picture from him came through within seconds. There was his door, with a decent sized hole in the middle of it.

Jam&Toast

Holy shit, dude

Jim&Sass

Trust me, I know

He was easy to talk to. Grabbing her laptop, she sat herself on her bed, placed her laptop on her bed, and settled down for the night. Jam and Toast, her two Bengal cats, were curled around each other at her feet, fast asleep.

She turned her laptop around and awkwardly snapped a picture of her two sleeping cats. The picture wasn't the greatest, and it was kind of hard to see two cats laying there, but she sent it anyway.

He sent pack a picture of Sassy licking a yoghurt treat from his hand.

They could have spent the entire night talking, the conversation branching away from their cats, but Jimmy and Sassy's dad had to go. She didn't ask where he was going, wished him safe travels and shut her laptop for the night.

***

Jimmy and Sassy's dad hadn't been online since Wednesday. She hadn't expected him to message her while he was away, having fun. But she did miss him. She missed talking about Jam and Toast to somebody that wouldn't brush her off, missed hearing about his cats.

It was Sunday, and she was on the grid. It was a bit of fun, going down to the grid. Sometimes Martin Brundle attempted to speak to her on his Grid Walk.

She stood by the Ferrari, talking to her good friend, Charles Leclerc. When Martin Brundle tried to speak to her, her security guard sent him away.

"Did you hear about Max's cats?" Charles asked after she had told him all about the stuff Jam and Toast had been doing that week. At least he wasn't changing the subject completely.

She frowned at him. "Max Verstappen?" She asked and Charles nodded.

"One of his cats got stuck in a storage room, nearly broke his arm trying to get her out."

She glanced from side to side, trying to look for Max on the grid.

***

Max watched as the Italian Princess approached him with the trophy. It wasn't a win, but he was still grinning. Charles had won Monza in a Ferrari, and Max was proud.

The Princess smiled at him. Max didn't want to consider it flirty, but he didn't know how else to interpret it.

After the Italian national anthem, they left the podium. Max grinned down at his trophy before throwing his arm around Charles' shoulder.

He saw the Italian Princess striding towards them. Stepping back, Max watched as she threw her arms around Charles. They spoke in Italian as she looked at the trophy Charles held.

Max went to move around them, but the Princess fixed him with a look. "How are Jimmy and Sassy?" She asked, letting go of Charles.

His cheeks were pink as he answered her. "They're good," he answered. "With the cat sitter, probably being naughty."

It wasn't a terrible response, but he wasn't getting it. "Max," she said and took a step closer. He was trying so hard not to look weirded out, she could tell. Her hand was on her hip, head slightly tipped to the side. "When are you flying back home?"

He answered and she checked the dainty watch on their wrist. "Do you think you have time to come and meet my cats, Jam and Toast?"

The surprise on his face was evident. "No fucking way."

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Bad Blood

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: franco colapinto x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: tensions started rising in the williams garage when bad strategies pitted you and your teammate, franco against each other. after spotting him in a bar the night of a race the two of you bonded over your shared bad result. 

♥ one-shot - wc: 1.6k

♥ as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing, drinking, and vaguely suggestive !!!

♥ a/n: rivals to lovers + forced proximity, go nuts babe. btw there’s some salty team vibes so i just wanna say i love williams (except james) this is purely for the plot lol

“Plan B, Y/n. Plan B,” you engineer said on the radio of your car.

”Is Franco undercutting me?” you asked, shifting down into a corner.

“We think this is the best decision point-wise.”

“You’re joking.”

“Y/n stick to the strategy, you’ll get your time eventually.” they responded.

“No this is bullshit. What advantage are you giving him? He can’t chase down Kmag any better than I can—at least he doesn’t have the pace right now. I don’t see why you’re making him the priority.”

You reached the end of the main straight watching as your teammate exited the pit lane in front of you.

He was on hard tires, an extremely odd choice for the end of this race. You were trying to complete the last 20 laps on softs while your teammate tried to make up positions on the opposite compound. Wait why the fuck would they put him on those tires? If they were aiming for an undercut, they were certainly going to fail with this strategy. 

You dove down into the apex and collided with Franco, who was turning in front of you. You both spun out into the gravel, ending your race. 

It was always like this. Somehow you always found yourself competing against Franco no matter where you went. 

“Fuck,” you yelled on the radio as you threw your HANS device outside of the car. 

“Are you okay?” your engineer questioned.

“Yup, yeah I’m fine.” you responded. 

The Williams team could hear faint breathing from Franco. 

“Is she ok?” he asked. 

“Yes, are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

-

You scrolled through your phone in your driver's room, coming across a couple of posts about the situation.

@fcswife “is she okay?” FRANCO THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 😭❤️

@charlesgf16 she really has zero respect for franco huh?

@francodefender1 how could anyone hate him? 😩

You rolled your eyes and clicked off the device, throwing it onto a different cushion on the couch. You were going to need a drink. 

-

Later that night you retreated to a bar you were unfamiliar with. A couple of F2 drivers in your circle mentioned it in passing and considering you couldn't fluently speak the language of the country you were visiting, you hoped to run into a few people you knew.

The room was dark, loud, and packed. You could hear music playing over the sound of dozens of drunk voices. You pushed your way through the crowd of people towards the front of the bar in order to get a drink.

You spotted a familiar face when you arrived. To your dismay it was the only person you wished not to talk to at that moment. His brown curls were immediately identifiable and if that wasn't enough, the fluorescent lighting illuminated his face, drawing your eyes towards the small mole on his cheek.

You looked around for a place to avoid him, but all the booths were taken and the only open bar stool was the one next to Franco.

Because of course it was.

You sighed and took the seat next to him, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact.

"A bottle of Dom Perignon please," you asked, causing Franco to snort.

“What?” you shifted your gaze towards him.

“Champagne is for winners,” he said, looking you straight in the eye.

It wasn’t like he was incorrect. Champagne was for the podium—but you had a long day and it was time to treat yourself. Regardless, you rolled your eyes at the man’s comment.

Franco waved over the bartender to get a glass and help himself to the bottle of alcohol.

“You can venmo me,” you said only half joking as he poured himself some champagne.

A small tv in the corner of the bar had a replay of the race and press.

”There were a lot of emotions definitely, uhm I think the decisions tire wise for the strategy weren’t great. It’s frustrating to see the prioritization of your teammate but I guess I have no input on whether that goes to me or Franco each race. We had a rough week overall as a team but I hope we can bounce back.”

“As much as I hate to agree with you… you were right. Both our strategies were fucked.” he said referencing your post race interview, “They screwed us both.”

The two of you never really got along, but at least neither blamed each other for the crash. It was just a racing incident and it didn’t have to prevent you from finally having a civil conversation with Franco.

“To screwing us both,” you smiled while raising your glass of champagne, eliciting a chuckle out of him.  

He clinked his cup to yours with a smirk and took a small sip. 

From that point on your distaste for him slowly started to die down and you began to have a mutual understanding.

-

The next race went over far smoother than the last. Franco ended up in P5 with you right behind him in P6; an incredible result for the two of you and the team.

You jumped out of your car and strolled your way over to his. The camera picked up on you patting his helmet and mumbling something.

Of course this was going to be all your media feed would show for the next few days.

-

That night you found yourself at a far more tame pub than the last.

“From the gentleman across the bar,” a server said, causing you to look up from your phone and towards the direction he was pointing. 

Franco was leaning against the counter with a grin. He raised his eyebrows quickly and waved.

You took a sip of the cold blue drink in front of you and waved back. His eyes stayed locked on you as you pulled out your phone and unblocked a number.

You 

is there red bull in this? 

+1800******

yea 

You got a text back immediately, prompting you to change the contact name. 

You

i think that’s a sin

Franco

oh?

You

yea if i can’t drive it i shouldn’t be drinking it  

Franco

i guess it’s too bad williams doesn’t make energy drinks

You

come sit with me

-

Tensions were still high on track between the two of you but the minute race weekend was over it was like someone flipped a switch.

A few weeks flew by and people started to notice your behavior towards Franco. By now there were probably dozens of pictures of you looking very cozy together at parties, but not getting along at the circuits or simply ignoring each other in the paddock.

Of course people were getting suspicious. Maybe this was a ruse to keep your relationship a secret? Maybe it was all staged for Netflix. Or maybe—you two didn’t really know what you were.

-

“Che,” a voice called out to you in spanish, instantly grabbing your attention.

You spotted Franco in a booth at the back of the club. It was far darker in that corner, but with the flashing lights and loud music you were glad he picked a more secluded area.

The building was full with the familiar faces of drivers and team members.

”Look at you,” he said, impressed.

You laughed and did a small spin, showing off your dress. You knew he’d liked it and by the memory you had earlier this evening, it seemed as though a lot of people would.

”Another date with Franco, huh?” Kika smirked while putting on some dangly earrings. “It’s not a date,” you protested. She spun her body around to face you. “This,” she gestured to your outfit. “Is for a date.”

You slid into the booth next to him, setting your black clutch purse beside you.

Franco’s hand firmly grabbed your thigh to steady himself as he shifted closer towards you. Your eyes darted down to the action but he didn’t seem to notice. His grip loosened as he settled and he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb.

A small hum escaped your lips, barely audible over the music and voices, but there was no way in hell your soft noises wouldn’t catch his attention.

”¿Esto está bien?” (is this ok?) he asked in a whisper, causing you to only nod.

His face moved closer to yours, and you wasted no time cupping his cheeks in your hands, and connecting your lips.

You melted into the kiss knowing damn well you daydreamed about this an embarrassing amount.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, tasting the gloss you applied earlier. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance and he dragged his fingertips further up the inside of your thigh.

Franco moved down to your neck leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. His index and middle fingers brushed the lace of your lingerie, causing him to smirk against you.

“Stand up,” he demanded. He slipped out of the booth and pulled you onto your feet. You grabbed your clutch as he guided you through the crowd, hand-in-hand.

He opened the chiming door and the two of you stepped onto the wet cobblestone. Your heels clicked on the ground as he guided you to his car in the rain.

He pulled open the passenger seat door for you.

“Wow, we weren’t even in there a couple of minutes,” you stated.

“I think we’ve had enough time to talk… quiero llevarte a casa…” (i want to take you home) he leaned down and mumbled to you.

“O en este caso mi hotel,” (or in this case my hotel) “unless you’d rather go back inside..” he trailed off.

You shook your head in protest to his last works and a light chuckle slipped through his lips.

”Alright then,” he smirked, getting into the drivers seat.

[saintslewis]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: party time pt.2? (no <3)

warnings: a bit of angst, crying, reassurance from both sides, a bit shorter than the rest lol.

saint’s team radio 🪩: heyyyy!! so sorry this is long overdue but there’s a reason! i wish i could name this chapter anything but thique but that’s the title of the song and we’re not crying today 🫵🏽 don’t jump me for taking so long lol

pls like, comment and reblog!

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series • previous chapter

New York had never been more quiet than in that very moment. Nadia wanted to blame it on the fact that the penthouse was far too high up or that it was 2:36 am.

‘Bambi’ played in the background on the large tv, the light illuminating on the many faces in the living room. The friend group had celebrated Lewis’ Silverstone podium since the second they stepped out of the paddock, opting for tonight to be calm and have a group movie night with snacks and all types of pastries (Nadia baked those btw) laid across the table. Everyone was underneath blankets as they watched the tragic scene of Bambi’s mother dying.

Making the terrible mistake of looking at her ever buzzing phone, Nadia could see that Tia tried to contact her within the past few minutes but she internally rolled her eyes. Rea decided to play with her feelings and cause her heart to drop only to find out that the younger girl was lying straight out of her teeth about her marriage being leaked. Wanting nothing to do with social media for the week, Nadia kept herself busy. Spending time with Lewis and spending his money, one of her favourite things to do.

Her job was at stake and she knew that. With each passing day, Nadia’s sudden fame had taken a toll on her and her mental health and she was not sure if she wanted to continue working full time because it was taking a strain on her. She inwardly groaned at the thought of slightly proving her boss right who was consistent in reminding Nadia that this double life was not going to work in her favour.

Swiping further into her phone, she quickly understood why Tia was blowing up her phone.

Time felt slow and her body went numb as she read the headline over and over again. This wasn’t something that was light and airy and she could easily brush off her shoulder with just a flick of her hand. Every piece of jewellery she wore felt heavy, her clothes felt tighter than ever and her blood went cold.

Clearly not being the only one on their phone during the movie, Charlotte’s hair bounced as she snapped her head to her friend who’s tearful eyes were glued to her phone. At first, the woman couldn’t believe what she was seeing but her heart immediately sank when her eyes connected with Nadia’s.

All the food Nadia consumed earlier was rushing back up with intense speed and she quickly threw the blanket off her, running to the nearest bathroom. The blanket landed on Lewis’ confused face as he took it off to whip his head around. The men of the group were utterly confused as all the girls stood to their feet and quickly followed Nadia to wherever she ran to.

Lewis spotted Nadia’s phone on the floor, lifting the screen to his face. His eyes adjusted to the bold words written and as short as the title of the article was, it felt like reading an encyclopaedia written by the vultures within the media.

‘NADIA HAMILTON BATTLES INFERTILITY, ANON SAYS’

The article went on to explain how close the anonymous source was to Nadia, citing that they had kept this secret with themselves for years and hated the new found fame that Nadia attracted. All types of nasty connotations were made against her, calling her out of her name. This anonymous source also spoke on who she saw before Lewis but never exposed their fake marriage.

“Bro..” Andrew spoke up first, all the boys scrolling through their phones and seemingly looking at the same thing. Lewis knew he had to stop himself from reading on after the author wrote that he should divorce her because she’s ‘unable to give him a family’. He quickly locked Nadia’s phone and ran a hand down his face before he stood up to make a few calls.

With her head on Amara’s chest, Nadia wept as she struggled to keep it all together. She did not want to show her vulnerability to her friends so quickly but seeing the headline broke everything she had worked on to be private. Natalia moved Nadia’s hair back as she continued to rub her back.

Charlotte stood with her phone in her hand, immediately shutting down anything that was objectively negative about Nadia. Every single time she heard her friend sob, her heart broke. After what felt like hours of her friends consoling her and encouraging her to stay strong without bugging her for any information, she sat up and wiped her tears.

“Not to chase you guys away but I really wanna see Lewis right now.” She chuckled as she wiped her tears from her cheeks. The girls laughed at their friend’s ability to smile after something so terrible.

“We’ll let him know to bring up some water.” Amara nodded and stood up, giving Nadia’s hand a squeeze. Once her friends left, Nadia began pacing around the bedroom, the New York skyline still shining ever so bright although it was nearing 3 am.

She heard the door and she watched as Lewis walked in with a water bottle in his hand, his ring catching light from the ceiling lights. His eyes landed on her, cheeks hollowed with her trying to breathe as easily as she could, her hands shaking.

Eyes connected and neither of them had to say a word. He brought her head into his chest as her arms went around his waist. Nadia sighed softly as she leaned into her husband’s warmth. “I’ve sorted everything out, baby. You don’t have to worry about anything else.” He spoke, keeping his hands still as his voice vibrated through his chest.

Nadia sniffled before she spoke. “Thanks,” her voice quivered. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. Wanted to be the first one to tell you, you know.” She chuckled through her tears.

“None of this is your fault, love. Please don’t blame yourself, you have done nothing wrong and we’ll get through this together.” Lewis said. “We could try find out who-”

“It was my mom and Rea.” She deadpanned, lifting her head to look in his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at the quickness of her revelation. “Nads.” He started.

All she did was look at the bed and he took that as a hint to sit on it and she followed. “I’ve only ever told my mother and Rea about my…infertility. Not even my friends. My mom found out through a fight we were having during high school.”

She took a breather and continued. “I completely changed my career path to become a teacher because if I couldn’t become a mom myself, I could be that teacher for my kids. I love those kids more than anything in the world, Lewis. When you introduced me to Willow and Kaiden, my heart was already attached the second I saw them so if we didn’t work out, I was going to feel like absolute shit.”

“To do this properly. Lewis, I am infertile and I won’t be able to have kids with you in the future because of my shitty anatomy.” Nadia finished with a smile gracing her face, always finding a way to lift the mood.

He didn’t want to smile but it crept it’s way on his face. Lewis reached his hand to hold hers. “Love, you are something else,” he chuckled. “I never want you to worry about me in this circumstance, I still want you for you. For everything. You’re my family and I never regret signing those papers, Nads.” Lewis finished, his gaze softening as she looked at him.

The tension in the air eased but there was still a lingering feeling hanging. This was an extremely vulnerable moment for Nadia and she was feeling all types of emotions. Lewis didn’t want to invade on her feelings and make her uncomfortable as she dealt with all this. She deserved the best, if she asked, he would give her the universe. He’d build a kingdom and worship her as his queen.

Feeling her manicured finger poke as his exposed shoulder, he snapped out of it to see a smile on her face. “I thought I lost you there, bruv.” Nadia smiled, her eyes swirling with so many emotions.

A beat or two passed.

“I love you.” Lewis blurted out.

Lewis Hamilton wasn’t someone who usually got nervous. He was learning to express his emotions to people around him and was confident in himself at most times. Now was one of those time where he felt his stomach become queasy, his hands suddenly feeling sweaty and he swore he felt the world had stopped spinning.

Nadia was taken aback at his sudden confession but never showed it on her face. If anything, she felt as if Cupid shot her with a heart shaped arrow. Her body felt warm and relaxed, the butterflies swarming as if her crush just looked at her and smiled. Her cheeks felt tight as she full on grinned.

“I love you too.” She confessed and Lewis swore his world became brighter as she spoke those magical three words. He couldn’t believe it. “Say it again. Please say it again, my love.” His accent became a tad bit stronger as he spoke, his large hands enveloping her smaller ones.

Nadia laughed. “I love you, Lewis.”

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that. I love you so much, Nadia Thandeka Hamilton and never forget that, my angel.” He scooped her up into a hug, falling back into the bed in a giggling mess.

-

Nadia’s hands were stuck in her hoodie pockets when she stepped out of the bathroom, her face feeling fresh as ever as she had just taken off a new face mask she had wanted to try out.

Los Angeles was a place she would definitely call home if she chose to settle down in that very moment. The couple had flown over after two days of friendship therapy and a crazy amount of ice cream as a way to distract her from touching her phone.

The woman had no clue of what was going on surrounding her and that damned article but one thing she did know was that her ears were not deceiving her.

She had known that Lewis always woke up before her as a force of habit but he had vowed to not wake her up until she was ready to. She even moved her hood to hear properly.

The faint sounds of Minnie Riperton’s ‘Lovin’ You’ rang throughout the house speakers but the volume was clearly amplified in the living room. With her eyebrows furrowed, her ugg boot clad feet slowly led her through the hallway and right downstairs.

Her breath felt like it had been snatched out of her as she looked at the current state of her living room. Pink balloons were scattered across the roof and the floor, two bouquets of tiger lilies sat pretty on the coffee table along with several, several boxes from all her favourite brands. From small boxes to large bags beautifully arranged with a small note sat within the bouquet.

“Oh my god…” Nadia’s hand was over her mouth as she walked further into her living room, not even noticing that Lewis entered from the kitchen with his hands behind his back. “Hope you like it, love. Wanted to make it perfect for you.” He licked his lips as he watched his wife glide her hand all over the bags.

“Like it? I’m absolutely speechless, Lewis.” She softly spoke. “You’ve just…oh my days. You make me feel like a princess.” Nadia turned to look at him. “You tellin me all I have to do is tell you that I love you?” She joked.

“You existing is enough for me.” He spoke. “Boy.” She laughed. “Tryna make me blush knowing damn well I can’t.”

“Well, yes and no.” He scrunched his nose then chuckled with her. A beat or two passed before she spoke. “Let me say thank you.” She tilted her head as her hand went under his simple black shirt.

“Oh?” Lewis expressed. She didn’t have to say anything except look up at him and give him a smirk then he was ready to go.

“Say less, Mrs Hamilton.”

-

lewishamilton

liked by charlottiee, fencer and 2,394,447 others

lewishamilton the mrs. 🤍

view comments

nadiahamilton i love you

lewishamilton i love you more

user lord, guide this type of love to me

megantheestallion absolute cuties 🥹

fencer la familia!

serenawilliams my favs! 👑🤍

user aren’t they going to speak about everything?

user they don’t owe you anything!

sza 💗💗💗💗

saint’s notes: long overdue. love you guys!

tags: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @henneseyhoe @saturnville

if your account is blank, that means tumblr can’t find you!

[billskeis]

hi can you do Tom smut where he is dating reader and she likes reading and he just like tells her to read for him while he is fucking her and she just like struggles to talk and he is just kinda chuckling and listening to her

˖ ࣪ ⟢ tom’s personal bookworm

lol haha hi so imagine tom kaulitz, considered the sexiest guitarist in germany right now as tokio hotel rises up to the top as rockstars with a bookworm reader. never really goes to their concerts because she enjoys her alone time but however will support from the other side of the screen as their concerts are constantly being streamed.

you were never the type to be upset about not being able to spend actual time with tom knowing his packed schedule, understanding and content with just being able to see him from afar.

reader loves book. and i mean, LOVES books. her whole room is filled with them. her parents were concerned for her every passing day because all she did was spend her allowance on books. not that they’re complaining because at the end of the day she was smart, humble, quiet. never really got herself into trouble since she would spend most of her days reading.

they’ve always wondered how she got a boyfriend that’s the total opposite of her.. mr popular who has thousands of girls just waiting for him to court them, is dating a nerdy nobody who only spends her free time reading? i guess you can say opposites really do attract.

tom now has been making more frequent visits to his girlfriend’s humble abode to catch her often stuck in a book that she’s been raving about the day before. rambling on how exciting it is to be able to start a fresh new book after just finishing one. it could only really take her a day to finish a thick novel that she had just purchased long ago, head in the clouds of true crime, thriller and fantasy. tom wishes his girlfriend would pay more attention to him now that he’s off tour and can finally spend time with her. ohoh, he’s jealous. jealous of a fucking book, or books, lol.

and all of a sudden, the new books that you have recently bought have been collecting dust, stuck on the same book for a week now.

tom had asked you to read out the dialogue between the main protagonist and the villain, sliding himself inside of you as he slowly fucks your soaking walls sitting on the ottoman stood at the end of your bed. “oh fuck, you’re tight.. ‘s been a while huh schatzi?” a firm grip on your ass as he holds your body upright, sitting in his lap as you hold a book in-front of you like a teacher standing at a podium. “t-tom, i can’t concentrate like this.”

“c’mon, read to me baby.” moving your hips up and down his length, slowly and agonizing, your cunt feels every inch and vein of his cock, the stretch just right as he presses kisses to your cervix with his tip.

you huffed in defeat, biting your lip before speaking, “a-and so.. you e-either—mmgh.. surrender to me or, o-or.. ah!” yelping as the curve of his dick presses against your velvety walls in a new angle, pleasure shooting through your body as legs threaten to shake. tom can only laugh at you, a throaty groan while he continues to move your body at a rhythm that satiates the both of you. he indulges in controlling how you ride him, a soft and pliable body made for him to fuck and distract her from what she loves the second most, him coming in first after all.

you hold onto your book for dear life, stuttering words as they struggle to fall off your lips, drool coming out more instead as you grind your hips on tom.

he silently watches you, watches how you fail to get a complete sentence out without choking on a moan or a whimper, chuckling as he is completely enamoured with your being. how pretty you are in his lap riding his cock as you attempt to fill out his request of storytelling one of your current reads.

but he listens. he listens as you break it down to him on how the superhero and the villain instead come to redeem themselves as lovers rather than enemies. and it’s quite sweet, isn’t it? how people on the opposite sides of the universe can just come together as one, quite ironic if you ask me. but he absolutely adores the way you read to him, even if it involves shoving his cock into your cunt, over, and over again.

as a hand holds your waist, he uses his other hand to rub your clit in front of him, your body jolts from the overstimulation as you leak onto his pelvic moan, juices spilling to seep onto the suede chair.

feeling overwhelmed, your book almost slips from your grasp as you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, complaining that it’s ‘too much’ and you ‘can’t take it,’ but he doesn’t listen, he can only press a kiss to your cheek and tell you “you’re doing good baby, just a few more pages mkay?” his hands massaging your waist as he bounces you on his cock. you swallow your words instead, incapable to recite the dialogue as you cried out in pleasure.

with a smirk plastered on his lips, tom takes the book from your hand and throws it to the bed behind you, he can’t risk in damaging your goods now! your struggle for speech was quickly replaced with the creak of the ottoman inside your bedroom, your back arching as your chest is now flush to tom’s clinging onto the body that bullies you as eyes roll back.

your head rests on tom as tears roll off your face and tongue lolls out onto his shoulder, you babble ‘sorries’ to tom, as you now realized that despite his time off, you prioritized the books you read 24/7 over your own boyfriend.

“s’okay.. i can—ugh, have my smart girlfriend all t’myself now, yea?”

so i didn’t proofread this lol >_<

anyways , i’m off to disappear for another couple days (maybe)

[astonmartinii]

daniel ricciardo x rockstar!reader | instagram au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x rockstar!reader 

the rockstar girlfriend who’s really a softie, she just needs her boyfriend to bring it out. 

(daniel is a red bull driver in this - lol manifestation) 

yourusername 

liked by danielricciardo, harrystyles and 860,899 others 

yourusername you make my heart go fast 

danielricciardo: you could say you make mine race ;) 

yourusername: stop making me blush, i have a reputation to uphold 

landonorris: you’re so corny 

cowboydanny: wait they’re so cute 

redbullenchante: as much as i love her touring i wish we could see her at more races 

danielricciardo 

liked by redbullracing, yourusername and 537,621 others 

danielricciardo great weekend for the whole team - now for the summer break!

maxverstappen1: pleasure to share the podium with you mate 

danielricciardo: pleasure is ALL mine maxy ;) 

yourusername: i see how it is 

danielricciardo: this isn’t what it looks like i swear 

dannyricc3: max getting between mom and dad... not on my watch 

yourusername 

liked by danielricciardo, taylorswift and 1,022,659 others 

tagged: danielricciardo 

yourusername yeah maybe i did plan my tour around my boyfs off season, and what? 

danielricciardo: more than happy to be your deckchair 

y/nismyqueen: can’t even be angry about it they’re so cute 

dannyxyn: if they break up i will never believe in love again 

maxverstappen1: god you guys make me feel lonely 

danielricciardo: don’t worry maxy i’ll be back to cuddle you soon 

danielricciardo 

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 762,073 others

tagged: yourusername 

danielricciardo forever in awe when you’re on the stage 

yourusername: you’re such a sap i love you 

y/nstan3: the way that she’s so open with her love now, i’m soft 

charles_leclerc: he screamed the whole show can i get another ticket not next to a mad man 

danielricciardo: let me be in love in peace sharl 

redbullracing 

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 924,001 others 

tagged: yourusername 

redbullracing a special guest is joining us in the garage today 

y/ngirly: AHHH SHE’S SLAYING 

y/nstan4ever: i’m so sad tour is over but wag!y/n is such a serve 

danielricciardo: wow who’s this cutie 

yourusername: back off she’s got a boyfriend 

y/ntherockstar: monaco!y/n is my fave now 

danielricciardo 

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,237,093 others 

tagged: yourusername 

danielricciardo redemption day babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy !!! nothing better than having you in the paddock my love xxx 

yourusername: best boy xx 

maxverstappen1: mega drive mate 

dannyriccstan: they are literally my parents 

y/nismylove: the way she was so excited ... they are so endgame 

yourusername 

liked by danielricciardo, maneskin and 1,721,092 others

tagged: danielricciardo 

yourusername this year has been wild, i loved sharing my music with so many around the world as well as seeing the one i love doing what he loves. here’s to many more years like this x 

danielricciardo: i love you 

yourusername: i love you too 

a/n: so i’ve had so much fun making these, so feel free to send in requests xx 

[al-the-remix]

TikTok Chef!Buck AU: several sentences sunday (or something like that)

I'm close to finishing the fic I've been working on so I finally felt like I could write a little something based off this headcannon without feeling too guilty about it, lol. 2k of mostly crack, please enjoy.

It all starts when Tommy’s stuck on his couch for a week with a sprained knee. He wishes he could claim it happened doing something heroic–or at the very least badass–but in truth it was the result of letting his ego get the best of him at the squat rack. 

Lucy stops by a few times to keep him company, which really means letting herself in unannounced with her spare key, eating all the leftovers in his fridge, and offering an unsolicited running critique of whatever show he’s watching. Today it was Below Deck reruns. 

“If I ever decide to take a vacation on a boat, tackle me, this shit does not look worth it.”

“You really don’t have to be here you know,” Tommy says, leaning over to grab some chips from the near-empty bag she was cradling before they were all gone. He’d been looking forward to eating those for dinner and feeling sorry for himself. 

Lucy just snorts. “Please, if I wasn’t here you’d already be up to something ill advised. I caught you looking up deck chair patterns earlier, power tools don’t go well with injuries, Tommy, even if it’s only carpentry.”

Well, she had him there. 

At least she had the decency to order them Chinese take out for dinner so he wouldn’t have to Instacart a can of soup or something equally pathetic. 

Before she left she made a grabby hand at him. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Tommy asks, already suspicious. 

She met his suspicion with boredom. “Don’t ask stupid questions, just do it.”

Rolling his eyes, he hands it over, giving into her whim, and maybe he should find it a little more unsettling that she already seems to know his password off by heart. 

She clicks around for long enough that Tommy starts getting nervous: what was the last text message he sent? Was it embarrassing? Were all his nudes still in that locked folder? Did she know the password for that too? Just when he was going to start asking questions she tosses his phone back. “Here, this should keep you entertained for a while,” she explains as he scrambles to catch it. “My niece wastes hours of her life on this crap.”

“Such ringing endorsement,” Tomy grumbles, she’s downloaded some kind of video app onto his phone. TikTok. Perfect. He’d heard of that one, apparently it was single handedly ruining a whole generation’s attention span and the Chinese government was using it to spy on the inner lives of teenagers with stupid haircuts and a critical lack of social skills. 

“Are you sure you didn’t just give me some kind of virus?” Tommy asks, clicking around the home page arbitrarily, the UI didn’t make a lick of sense. 

“Har, har. You were always good at picking up new skills, I’m sure you’ll figure this out in no time. I have faith in you,” she says, clapping him hard enough on the shoulder to make him wince. 

He finds his profile page by total mistake. His username reads: benchedcockwrangler.

“How do I change this?” he asks, waving his phone at her as she makes for the door. 

“You don’t,” she says, without looking back. “Don’t stay up on that thing all night, it will ruin your sleep schedule!”

Tommy winces as the front door slams and sighs. He’ll figure out how to change it later. After all, beggars can’t be choosers and three days into his mandatory medical leave he’s already so bored he’s ready to stab his eyes out with hot pokers just to mix it up a bit. 

He scrolls through the app, and based on most of what he sees he finds himself unable to justify its existence in the first place. It feels like every video he watches drags him into a deeper alternate universe where everyone’s wholeheartedly competing for the top of the podium at the Darwin Awards. 

There’s a woman digging tunnels under her apartment that Tommy is positive are not up to code (that’s a call just waiting to happen); and two young ladies mixing cocktails of a concerning hue and variety at random local establishments (not necessarily anything that would warrant a trip to the ER but potentially a health code violation); and what seems like an ungodly number of men hosting podcasts (Tommy is pretty sure that even during his darkest days rotting in the closet he had a better batting average picking up women than any of these bozos.)

Tommy’s eyes start to glaze over as he scrolls past comedians, and political commentators, and people reviewing romance novels, and–how has it already been forty minutes?

He’s about ready to give up and throw his phone across the room and leave it there until Lucy shows up tomorrow and he can make her delete it off his phone, when catchy music, an arm roped with muscle, and a criminally tight shirt sleeve catches his attention. 

It’s some kind of cooking video and his first impression is: how is anyone supposed to understand what’s going on with edits that fast? His second impression is: hot man. Man hot.

Soon his brain is catching up with his eyes, kickstarting like a toddler being exposed to sugar for the first time. 

Cooking might be a generous description for what’s going on here. The man is obviously skilled, but the main focus of the video seems to be how hot he looks in an apron (very) and whether it’s possible to bring half a peach to completion by finger blasting the pit out of it (not like, whether or not you should pre-bake your tart crust to achieve an ideal texture). 

Tommy has to watch it twice just to fully absorb everything that’s going on. He’s making some kind of deconstructed peach crumble topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and steak with fries that looks fancier than anything Tommy’s ever eaten at a restaurant. 

Half way through the video the man wipes down the worktop shirtless with a cloth sudsy enough to make Tommy’s mouth go instantly dry then suddenly wet enough he’s forced to swallow. 

He clicks through to ChefFirehose’s profile just to, you know, get a better sample size. Tommy’s not above letting himself be manipulated by a man with biceps like melons and a cute smile. 

His profile description reads: LA resident, self-taught, putting out fires and saving lives in my spare time. Just here to give the food the appreciation it deserves. Let me show off for you 😉.

Tommy thinks this guy must be new to town, because living nearly a decade even in a city as sprawling and overcrowded as LA, he doesn’t know how he could miss running into this guy on the job. There was no way he wouldn’t remember a guy this hot even through turnouts, a helmet, and smeared in a thick layer of soot.

He starts working his way back through ChefFirehose’s videos, and some are admittedly a little less chaotic than the rest, but all of them are just tongue-and-cheek enough that Tommy feels confident he’s just one in close to a million people in on a joke and not enabling someone’s very real personality disorder. 

He’s stuck somewhere between disbelief and admiration. He definitely wouldn't have the balls to post this on the internet for everyone to see and so obviously thirst over. He braves the comment section on a few of the videos and it’s just a litany of horned-up men and women trying their best to make ChefFirehose laugh, or get in his pants, or both. He replies to almost all of his comments with either a smirking emoji or acting deliberately oblivious when someone tries to bait him into giving up the bit. Tommy finds him funny and maybe a little more endearing than he should after ten videos. 

Tommy can’t really blame them for trying to shoot their shot so shamelessly. ChefFirehose’s wardrobe consists of polos plastered so tight to his skin that Tommy was mildly concerned about restricted blood circulation, dress shirts buttoned dangerously low, and slacks that wrap snugly around miles of long, toned leg. 

Those weren’t Tommy’s favorite looks though. No, every so often a video would start and he’s be dressed down in soft looking sweatpants, a baseball cap pushed on backwards plastering his auburn curls to his forehead, and a white tank top–or if Tommy was really lucky, no shirt at all (sometimes not even the apron which Tommy had mixed feelings about...), his muscled arms and shoulders on full display. He’s got tattoos decorating his forearms that Tommy can’t quite make out, a collection of fine lines on pale skin like thin ribbons of chocolate drizzled over a crape. 

Those videos are most often breakfast related and ChefFirehose is barefoot in his kitchen, the warm sunlight casting his face in gold. He paints such an enticing tableau it’s all too easy for Tommy’s brain to plop himself right down in that scene, imagination running wild. He can so easily picture what it would be like: in that kitchen, feeling the warm cast of sun on his face and getting to watch built, handsome man make him breakfast with that flirty confidence of his. 

Tommy bookmarks a video of him making an omelet, the way he handles the eggs making Tommy blush like he’s a schoolgirl and not a man pushing forty. He feels less guilty about getting hard over it on the sofa surrounded by takeout containers than he probably should.  

The screen goes suddenly black and Tommy’s faced with his own reflection in the finger smudged screen, chin rolls and all. Fuck. He reaches for his charger. God, his life was depressing at the moment, and apparently he really needs to get laid.

So yeah, by the time his two weeks of recovery are up he’s feeling a little stir crazy in an entirely different way than before. He’s never been more glad to get back to work, put some of this weirdness behind him and get some much needed distance from his phone.

That’s only part of the reason why he doesn’t even think twice when Howie calls him for a favor. A big favor. And that was only the first of many surprises the universe had in store for him, apparently.

Even fully clothed in his LFD uniform Tommy recognises him. Evan. Evan, Evan, Evan, (Tommy repeats over and over in his head until it drowns out every other name Tommy’s assigned him the past few weeks: slutty egg guy, ChefBigDick, totally off limits boyfriend material–just to name a few).

“So you’re the guy who’s gonna fly us into a hurricane.” Evan sounds a little breathless, like maybe he jogged all the way here, and Tommy chalks it up to the high that accompanies stealing government property. “Chim said you were the best pilot he knows and good in a pinch, but I still thought there was no way anyone that good would agree to something this crazy.”

Tommy’s definitely starting to feel a little crazy. Evan’s still shaking his hand. His grip is solid, his fingers long and nimble, surprisingly soft against this palm (he must really lather on the hand lotion) and Tommy can’t stop thinking about all the talented things he knows they can do. 

 “That’s me. Though I’m pretty sure I’m just the only pilot Howie knows who's in town at the moment.” 

“You look good to me–capable, I mean.” Evan gives him a solid smack on the shoulder with his free hand. His mouth does something funny like he's trying to hold back the sheer force of his excitement by his teeth. “Solid.”

His eyes are even bigger and brighter in person, smile softer, even taller than Tommy presumed. Howie’s giving them a weird look from over Evan’s shoulder. The other man with them, Eddie, isn’t paying them any attention, checking out the other helicopters parked on the apron instead, and Tommy forces himself to pull his hand out of Evan’s warm grip. 

Tommy clears his throat. “Good to know. I’ll show you guys the bird we’ll be taking. I've got her all gassed up and ready to go.”

He just met his (internet) celebrity crush and the man of his dreams, and now Tommy was going to get him killed in one of the most spectacular ways imaginable. It seems like they’re all headed for the Darwin Awards this time.

[onboardsorasora]

https://www.tumblr.com/overtake/746762194848563200/your-post-about-max-liking-daniels-ig-just-opened could u write something based on this?

I have had this ask for so long, sorry bestie- my brain was doing a thing at the time lol. lol thank you @secretdonderwolk for the unintentional prompt

His phone vibrated in his pocket, three times for three messages. He had an idea about who this was, he hoped it was his sister complaining about something. Or even Seb– even though he sat across from him at lunch. Seb could be annoying like that, but that was also because Daniel had been annoying like that first. 

Putting his phone on the table, he saw the screen light up with notification banners from Instagram. There was the broad one about how many thousand likes his post workout selfie had gotten. But then there was the secondary banners about replies and DMs. A familiar user name peaked up at him; 3_MaxV_3. 

Daniel rolled his eyes then flipped his phone on its screen. That kid, because he was a kid, with his scrawny body posing with a sideways cap in one picture, in a couch with dogs in another. But mostly in a race suit at a karting track. That kid had been messaging him for weeks now. He did the same thing repeatedly; Daniel posted a thirst trap photo (he looks damn good and it shows he’s working out) and then Max would be in the replies sending one thing the 💯emoji– three times of course. 

Daniel never responded to him after the first time, which was an accident, but the kid seemed to have taken that interaction as an open door to send Daniel reels of memes he already saw when he scrolled mindlessly through tiktok. He was surprised that a seventeen year old wasn’t on tiktok and was instead using instagram, but that also didn’t matter to Daniel. One less platform for this kid to find him on.

“Your new boyfriend again?” Seb teased with a snort.

“First of all, ew. He’s like still in diapers, mate.”

“I dunno why you let him annoy you so much. He’s harmless, still like in junior formula or whatever.”

“Don’t they call it like formula 3 now or something?”

“Who the fuck knows anymore. They change the names of this shit every year. Come I’m not allowing you make me be late for engineering.” Seb stood from his seat while Daniel cackled.

“I was one time!”

“One time is more than enough I think.”

— - —

Daniel pressed post on the thumbs up selfie. He’d gotten a podium today and wanted to commemorate after a long day. The first notification came quickly after. 💯💯💯 Daniel had become used to the routine by now, he already assumed that the kid had his post notifications on. It was weird but Daniel didn’t think too closely of it.

He did notice a difference this time. His username was different; maxverstappen_33. Daniel clicked into his profile, not something he did but there was a change in the routine and he was curious about why.

Lots of karting pictures met his eyes, pictures on podiums and in the garage. There were a lot more sponsor logos than before and Daniel couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He himself knew how difficult it was to even get sponsors to talk to you in karting, much less to invest. 

While he was scrolling through the rest of the profile, careful not to double tap anything of course, another notification banner from maxverstappen_33 popped up. “You are so beautiful Daniel.”

And well… that was new. Normally he’d get a lion or capybara video by now. MaxV had taken to sending him videos of quokkas recently too. Daniel had never given him the impression that these videos were appreciated or cared for– though he had watched a couple of them– so he didn’t understand this step up to shooting his shot.

Daniel closed out of the profile and then the app. He needed to get some sleep.

— - —

They’d told him to record a video for some kid getting his super license soon. That was new, but maybe Seb had been the one welcome in the new drivers in the program. It was quick with well wishes for some kid named Max. 

Daniel had wondered initially if it was MaxV, or rather Max Verstappen. But Vicky had told him nothing more and MaxV was supposed to be going to formula 2 now anyways. No way Red Bull would be making such a stir over a kid.

When he got out of the sim he had a bitchload of notifications. Red Bull had tagged him in something and people were congratulating him. Ace. He went to his DMs to see a new message from Maxverstappen_33;

‘Thank you for the video. It was lovely Daniel.’

Well, shit.

— - —

It happened slower than he thought it would have. But quickly in the grand scheme of things. Daniel stepped out of his motorhome, zipping up his race suit and thanking the handler to his left for his hat. It was shoot day today with the whole team, including the boys from Torro Rosso.

Daniil slotted in beside him and Daniel dapped him up. This would be their second year as teammates and Daniel was excited for the year to come. 2016 felt like the year maybe, to take the championship fight to Mercedes. The car was quick in the sim and Adrian said the wind tunnel tests have been phenomenal. Daniel was ready.

What he wasn’t ready for, was the guy who stepped right in front of him. Blonde hair, electric blue eyes. Familiar as fuck face pulled into a smile. 

“Daniel! It is great to finally meet you after all this time.”

Daniel hadn’t ever considered meeting MaxV in person, the kid that’s been sending him 💯 emoji what felt like weekly for the last maybe two years. If you scrolled through their DM it was very one sided. But here he was, very caught out at the very real and very eager kid waiting for his reply. This would probably be the first time he ever did reply.

“Enchante, Max.” Daniel grinned and glanced over a Daniil when Max’s face flushed with a blush.

He didn’t think about it the rest of the day. Not when Max kept telling jokes and whipping his head around to see his reaction. Not when Max would hold Carlos’ hand and pulling him into close hugs only to turn and look to Daniel’s reaction.

Daniil was having a field day and he knew Seb was going to learn about this somehow.

He didn’t think about it. Because Max was a kid or whatever and it was weird.

Max sought him out fairly regularly after that, bolstered by being in the same company and paddock. Invigorated at the fact that Daniel responded to him every time.

— - —

Daniel heard the news but he hadn’t quite believed it. He knew RedBull did driver swaps, apparently ‘all the time’ but he didn’t think he ever saw it happen mid season like this. 

He walked into the garage to see the host of cameras and mics. The identical RB12 no longer sported Daniil’s number but now had a large 33 plastered over it. The garage was also sporting the new 3|33 decals. Daniel knew that marketing was having a field day.

He stepped off to the meeting rooms to wait for the crowd to clear, fiddling on his phone. He’d never admit it, not even under the pain of a slow as fuck pitstop, that he was interested to see what the hubbub was about. What could possibly be so good about Max that they would do such a public shaming of Daniil.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but he tweeted a bit and posted a new picture to instagram during the time. The notification banner popped up; maxverstappen_33☑️ 💯💯💯

Daniel grinned to himself, still surprised that Max had kept this up. Still apparently had his post notifications on. The door opened. 

“Daniel that picture was lovely.” Max sat in the seat across from him in the conference room. His RedBull polo was a little askew, and he was smiling widely.

Well, shit.

[lovelyleclercs]

In the Dark- CL16

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

-> Charles is in need of comfort after a rough weekend on track.

warnings: mentions of Ferrari having bad strategies/engine issues, sad Charles not proof read

word count: 910

A/N: I wrote this late last night on my phone lol but I hope you like it!

the silence between the two of you was comfortable, nothing much to say after a rough weekend at the track. the hotel room was dark, very little light peeking through the blinds from the skyscrapers that were shining in the dark night sky.

charles had his arm draped over you as he laid on his side behind you, holding you as close to him as he possibly could.

you had your hand resting gently on his arm, your fingers gliding up and down his smooth skin slowly, your way of letting charles know that you were there for him if he needed to talk, but you otherwise intended on keeping quiet, not wanting to disturb him from his thoughts.

charles nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you adjusted the bedding over the two of you. “you can turn the tv on if you’d like, i know you can’t sleep in the dark” he whispered against your neck, his eyes starting to grow a bit heavy as the events of today had finally started to take their toll on him.

you shook your head and turned your head a bit to place a kiss to his forehead. “i’m ok, honey. i’ve got you here with me, i’m as safe and comfortable as i’ll ever be.”

charles smiled a little and kissed your shoulder gently. “only if you say so”

“you know that i’m here for you if you want to talk, right?” you said as you turned your body over so that you could face your boyfriend.

charles brushed a few strands of your hair out of the way and nodded, leaving his hand on your cheek out of habit. “i know, baby. i know…”

you put your hand on top of charles’ and smiled sadly, knowing that he had no intentions of telling you whatever was going on in his mind at that given moment.

“i wish i could be more open with you… i’m trying my hardest to work on it, but everytime i try to tell you something, my mind tells me to stop talking… almost as if it’s convincing me that i’m just a burden to you… does that make sense?”

you nodded, understanding where he was coming from completely. “it makes total sense. I want you to know that you aren’t being a burden to me… you can always come to me whenever you need to talk… you know that honey.

charles sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “i’m sorry, this is probably so frustrating for you… seeing me all closed off like this but wanting to help me…”

“don’t apologize, you can’t control it. whenever you feel ready to talk to me, i know you will. until then, i’ll be here, waiting for you to talk to me”

charles sniffled a bit, indicating that he as starting to get emotional, which was something that didn't happen very often. “i’m not meant for this sport… i should be winning more races by now.. i should be higher in championship points…”

you turned charles face towards yours and smiled sadly, wiping the one tear that had slipped down his cheek gently. “my love… you can’t blame not winning more races on yourself. there are so many races you should’ve won this year, but didn’t due to a shit strategy or an unreliable engine… you are meant for this sport, honey. i promise you that one day you will become world champion, and all these silly things you’re feeling now, won’t matter the day that championship trophy becomes yours.”

"it just sucks, you know? the season started out so strong, podiums and wins... I don't know what happened... all the hopes of the championship have quickly faded away.. it's a lot to process, it's overwhelming honestly."

You nodded and squeezed Charles' hand. "I know, it's been hard to watch, too. but you have worked so hard all season long, proven your dedication to the team despite how many times they screwed you over, and most importantly, you did your absolute best with the materials and strategies you were given."

Charles laid his head on your chest and sighed. "I know, but it doesn't make the loss any easier to process. now I have to chase after P2 in the constructors championship.. Checo and I are literally tied for points..."

You ran your hand gently through Charles curls, trying to get him to relax a bit. "I know, but don't worry about that for now. you have a week off to relax, don't spend that week stressing over things you can't control. You know that you have to driving ability to beat checo, if the team or the car fails you, then that is out of your control. Don't worry about what you can't control right now"

Charles looked up at you and smiled a little. "You always have an answer for everything, don't you?"

You laughed a little and kissed him gently. "almost always. now try to get some sleep, ok? It's been a long weekend and we have a long flight tomorrow"

Charles laid his head back down against your chest, allowing you to hold him close for comfort as he pulled the comforter over the two of you. "Goodnight, I love you. Thank you."

You kissed the top of his head and smiled slightly. "You're welcome, honey. I love you too"

[ro-writesstuff]

GIRLLL we need the part 2 of choises where ollie continues his life without y/n by his side but he still keeps in touch with her like after every race he sends a voice mail and also still sends messages even though he knows that y/n won't reply. It was hard for both of them, when you know how desperately you need each other and there's nothing you can do about it. Y/n always listened and replayed the voicemails that Ollie sent, at least it cured her longing. She still watched ollie's races, he was progressing well from race to race and felt a little relieved that her decision to break up with ollie could make him focus more on his racing, seeing him on the podium and smiling, it was the thing she wanted most in her life. But y/n was unaware of the fact that all of his smile was fake. Yeah, he was happy that his performance had improved but it was all nothing without y/n. He became quieter than usual, not more cheerful and even more moody, blue vibe, and once arthur caught him crying alone. Maybe during y/n's graduation, he came and brought a bouquet of her favourite chocolates and asked her to come back to his side? Idk brooo just get them a happy ending istg😔👊🏻❤

Ollie Bearman- Ultimatum

a/n: here is the long awaited part 2 of choices. the end is kinda sucky but we all know i can't end fics like this lol. enjoy!

summary: part 2 to this post.

pairing: ollie bearman x childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, sad ollie

word count: 1503

not my gif!

Hey. It’s me. Uh, I hope this is still your number. I’m about to get ready for quali in Barcelona. Wish you were here to see it. Know you’ve always wanted to come here. Anyway. Bye. 

Hi. Sorry if these are getting redundant but I’m about to qualify in Vegas. I know you’re only four hours away. Ollie takes on America, I guess…  Miss you, Y/N. 

Hi. Abu Dhabi race! Last one of the season! ‘Bout to qualify. Look, I know it’s been almost a year and I’m not trying to convince you to get back together with me but I want to see if we can- What? But I- ugh. Shit, sorry, I gotta go, but… Come back to the paddock, love. 

That one caught your attention. 

Come back to the paddock, 

Love. 

It had been almost a year since you left Ollie. Though you mostly felt bad about how you left things, there was a part of you that had made peace with it. You both had your own lives to live and your goals that weren’t lining up with each other’s. So why try at something that’s wasting your time?

You missed him though. You missed the pre-race rituals where Ollie held you tight in his arms hearing the joyful shouts and clamor of the outside world, thinking of nothing but each other until Arthur practically ripped down Ollie’s door to get him into his car. When he raced, you knew he thought of you. He made it very clear that you were a priority to him all the time. Although radio chats clearly proved otherwise, you knew in the back of your mind that he was thinking of you. 

~

“Ollie, you need to box mate. Box.”

“But she said to not because-”

“What? Box, Ollie, box.”

“No! Please, I can’t-”

“Sorry Ollie, team orders. Box. Box.”

~

You checked in on him every once in a while, of course wishing him all the best in his career. You watched some of his interviews and still followed Ferrari. You were never going to completely abandon him; you still considered him a good friend. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you never thought about him a lot. He looked and seemed happy through the screen that you viewed him through, his bubbly personality shining through his dazzling smile that you missed oh-so-much. Sometimes your mind had wondered what happened if you came back that night. Would you have figured it out? Would the outcome be the same? Was Ollie really going to desert F2 and possibly F1 just for you? 

You always forced those thoughts out of your head; they weren’t something that was a part of your life anymore. 

Similarly, Ollie felt the same. He could and would never cease thinking about you, even in the most serious of situations. He’d notice small mannerisms in other people that you had, like scratching your nose when you were anxious, and would be reminded of you through certain inflictions in peoples’ words. His pre-race ritual was never the same, knowing that the cuddles and silent comfortable moments you once had would never return. Arthur, being the good friend that he is, even offered Ollie cuddles and extra support when you’d left, but it never was the same for him. 

Now though, you were currently about to attend your graduation party for university. After you and Ollie’s incident, you moved as far as you could from him to focus on yourself and your career. You moved to the States after a month-long debate with yourself as well as your parents. You worked so hard to get yourself into and through school, buying yourself an apartment, and spent many of your days in your new environment with strangers who eventually turned into friends. You had turned over a new leaf, and you felt like a new person.

You could almost say that you had forgotten about Ollie. 

Almost. 

Your parents had thrown you a huge party to celebrate your accomplishments throughout the past few years. They had invited extended family as well as your old friends from elementary school. You flew in a couple of days before your party, getting used to the time difference, reverting back to your old ways of life before you left. 

It was nice to be home, the comfort of your childhood house and environment made you at ease, along with your family and friends you hadn’t seen in a while. Your parents did a good job of decorating the house, placing framed pictures of you in the front room, balloons covering every normally empty corner. You saw family members who you hadn’t seen in years, chatting with them until somebody else stole you away. A couple of hours went by, and a few speeches were made courtesy of your parents and a few close relatives. You felt normal for the first time in a while. 

That’s when you turned and made eye contact with him. Ollie. 

You felt your stomach drop. Why was he here? How could your parents invite him? How do you address what happened? Of course you knew the answers, you were smart enough to figure out your next move, but your mind spiraled as soon as you saw his warm, brown eyes. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having, speed walking to the bathroom. You locked the door and took a moment for yourself.

Okay, you thought. Just act normal and pretend like you didn’t walk out on him. Easy. 

You fixed yourself up and walked back out into the organized chaos. 

About an hour later people started to leave, wishing you luck in the next stage of your life, telling you how proud they are and all that. But all you could think about was him. 

After everyone cleared out, you walked back to your kitchen seeing Ollie having a conversation with your dad.

His eyes flicked over to yours, hesitantly looking back to your dad’s. “Oh, um. Sorry sir, do you mind if I…”

“Go ahead.” Your dad smiled and walked out of the kitchen as Ollie headed towards you. 

He anxiously took in a breath in as you studied his figure. He was standing slightly hunched over, wearing a white button down shirt with navy blue pants. You’d always told him that the blue pants looked better on him, a nice contrast to the black and red he wears. 

His voice was low. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?” You slightly smiled. When Ollie would come to your house unannounced when you were little, it would bring you so much joy. 

“Dunno,” He said, sighing. “Was your big day, and I had to be all dramatic and show up I guess.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest; a sound you haven’t heard in a long time. 

“Oh, um, those are for you,” He said, gesturing towards a box of candy surrounded by envelopes and stuffed animals on a table. “I know you probably haven’t had those in a while. You know, moving to the States and all.” 

It shocked you that he still remembered the smallest things, showing that he still really cared about you. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you, you were surprised it wasn’t an awkward one. 

“I just want us to be normal again. I can’t stand not having you in my life, Y/N. There’s this hole that you left and I’ve been trying to fix it with racing, my family. Fuck, I’ve even starting up knitting. And I get that you’ve moved on and have healed and everything, so I get it if you don’t want to do this, but I need you back in my life. This time it’ll be different, Y/N. I promise.”

You gauged the situation. Did you really believe that things could be the same after what happened? He was the sweetest most genuine person you’ve ever encountered, but would he still want more after you established you were just friends? You fought yourself back and forth,  surprising yourself of what came out of your mouth:

“Okay.” 

“I promise I won’t- wait what?” He expression changed, 

“Okay. We can try to be friends again. That’s it though. No reminiscing of our romantic relationship, no calling me late at night because you can’t sleep. None of that. I can’t do that again, Ol.”

“Okay. Deal.” 

All of what you felt that night started coming back, the guilt returning to your chest. This boy was  utterly in love with you, and you completely fucked him over. 

“Ollie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just up and left. You deserved better than that.” You looked down at the floor, internally cringing at your past mistake. You were embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. I forgive you, Y/N.”

“Thanks.”

“So, friends again?”

“Yeah.”

It made your heart happy knowing that you and Ollie were okay, but something inside you knew that it would never be the same.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #23

23. POLAND Luna - "The Tower" 29th place

Decade Ranking: 85/153 [Above Luke Black, below Tvorchi]

POLITICS CLAIMS ITS FIRST VICTIM!!! ORACLE NATALIA WAS RIGHT!!

JK, I wish that were canon, but I cannot reverse-engineer our reality into a fiction where Serbia qualifies over Poland by a hair because they blanked them after Xi's visit hijacked the live broadcast.

Anyway, this section of the ranking is always chaotic and inconsistent. Bad songs with acts that made me lol, alongside kind of charming hopeless filler, alongside great songs with painfully bad lives.

Enter "The Tower". People been saying it's a bland, generic song and as is often the case in a democracy, the people are fucking WRONG!!!! Quirky indie wenches with brittle voices singing metaphorical build-me-up synthpop is MY safe zone and you won't make me leave it!

This came with the addition of Luna having the best warbled pronunciation since Maggie Burger ("BREAUXKEN BAWDEEZ SCAATERT FRUE MAHISTERRY" OB*SESSED*.) and being relatably bad at chess (same, girl.) I refused to believe Luna was birthed into this world. She emerged fully formed from a pod, (designed by the same crazy medical students that have now captured Slimane to use his live voice as ethical (for the patient) cancer therapy), created with the sole purpose of fitting the template of a Bubblecore Fave. Luna represents EXACTLY the sort of act I would love to overrate at my leisure.

Sadly... nope. It all kinda went the way of Roxen in Malmö. It was badly performed and badly mixed. I feel like a lot of Poles (I'd say "people" but do "Poles" count as such? Isn't selling your entire soul for the first bad banger a mandatory initiation for Eurofan Poles?) would just scapegoat Luna because THAT WITCH BEAT JUSTYNA, but I disagree. I sympathize with her and I think her team did her dirty. This Polish NQ was a group effort and Luna was only one cog in that machine. 🙂 Besides, Justyna deserved a break from the spotlight so she can enjoy her four remaining Christmases.

The capital mistake was to not recognize the level of performance maturity Luna had. She's fairly inexperienced and not the most powerful vocalist. She's also NOT a dancer. At the time of the contest she was at a level of "can hold a tune when standing still, on a good day."

So if she struggles to perform the act you've planned, somebody's got to step in and make it so she can perform it every time.

Simplify and practice it until she's able to do it.

and do not, for the love of Sennek, make her MOVE WHILE SINGING?!!

LET HER CONCENTRATE ON HER VOCALS, YOU SHITS.

WE ALL SAW HOW ROXEN MURDERIZED FOUR SONGS INTO AN EARLY GRAVE FOUR YEARS AGO AND THEN DIED THE FOLLOWING YEAR WITH AMNESIA UNDER AN ELABORATE CHOREO.

HOW HAVE SOME DELEGATIONS STILL NOT LEARNED THIS EASY, ESSENTIAL STAGING LESSON?!

IF YOUR PEFORMER CANNOT SING + MOVE, PICK ONE ("sing" unless she's Kaleen) AND STICK TO IT. FIND SOME OTHER WAY TO ADD IN MOMENTUM.

(lol sorry for the rant but i'm writing these late at night on whatever energy reserves I have left so I can to keep up with 1 update per day. Anger's all I have left. 😔)

It's not like the MV didn't offer an easy way into good Eurovision-friendly staging. Dear TVP, what exactly was wrong with this?

Just stick her in the middle of the cross on a podium, and drape finery around her until she resembles the titular tower. The song was about self-discovery and growth, and that would send the message across with minimal confusion.

But Poland went with what they went with and sigh. It was the opposite of Slovenia, really - it looked AMAZING but didn't really compensate from the fact that it sounded VERY BAD.

But if the staging looked that good, then why was it bad? Well, Poland had a concept, an idea and it could have worked, but it didn't.

Conceptually, this is good staging. The backdrops and floordrops were rad and the chess-themed styling worked gave it a beautiful and unique feel like we'd never seen before.

However, it came across as Poland making an attempt at directing the part of Europe that weren't on Xi Jinping's visit schedule away from their song, and this an erroneous display of disrespect. Visualize according to what the song needs in order to shine as a song. Don't obfuscate it with flourishes that don't synergize with it.

There were too many elements. You don't need three chess piece dancers, AND LED sorcery AND an elaborate choreography AND two giant rook props AND two fucking dress changes (one of which happened in wideshot because ofc it did).

The beauty of Art is knowing what elements you can keep and which you can (and should) take away. (does not apply to "minimalist art" which lands somewhere between "decoration" and "scam".) Simplify, rather than complicate. Don't thrown in all the ideas you have as a Hail Mary (notice that this route is often taken by desperate countries that are notoriously shit at Eurovision - Poland, Denmark, Malta, etc). Test out which elements work, and choose those that suit the artist the best.

Poland's failure is choosing excessive staging that pushed too hard for (1) a performer who was not ready to execute all the pieces (2) a really simple, fun basic synthpop song. It overwhelmed both Luna and "The Tower".

It was not Luna's fault. Not entirely. The Polish creative team had a series of lapses in judgement, and it ended up in a shock NQ that I didn't see coming until it actually happened. Even though I like the overal package (the song's really that good!) I didn't feel it was an undeserved elimination.

What killed Poland wasn't just inexperience, politics or overambition.

It was foremost a lack of confidence in their own product.

THE RANKING

[formulaford2022]

Okay long post ahead:

I realized I never gave my thoughts on Iowa. First of all, I am very sad for James Roe, I really thought he had that, but I'm a big Louis Foster fan so congrats to him. Also why did the NXT race literally have like two green laps, that was so much yellow. On to Indycar, not the most exciting two races I've ever seen, and as these were the races I would have seen live if I had not had other plans this weekend, I was kinda okay with missing them. I'm sad for Colton obviously, but congrats to Scott Mclaughlin on his first oval win and becoming a "real Indycar driver" lol, and also congrats to Will Power on his win. I do hope Palou gets his first oval win at some point this season. I am so glad Rossi, Sting Ray, Ed Carpenter, and Kyle Kirkwood are okay. I am so thankful for the aeroscreen as that could have been so much worse.

Onto this weekend, as much as this pains me to say, Lando Norris's helmet looks so cool. Also at the time I am writing this part of the post, Perez has crashed again in qualifying, and I can't help but think about my post about not understanding the resign when the redbull is no longer the best car on the grid. Congrats to AIX on their first win of the F3 season; I don't mind either of their drivers and I'm very happy about Dino P3. I didn't watch the actual race or the F2 sprint, and I really don't plan on watching either of them, so my thoughts are limited to only the podium results lol. I'm not really a fan of anyone on the f2 sprint podium so no thoughts on that. (after reading other people's thought's I guess It was a good race, and now I'm sad I didn't see it.)

I hope Alexander Rossi's thumb recovers well, I am devastated about that. I was hoping Callum Ilott would be the replacement (I was also thinking Conor Daly just because Indy is so much closer to Toronto thank Europe, but Mclaren never makes the choices I think are logical), but for Theo to get another chance in the car is very cool. For proving himself for an Indycar seat next year, this is a great decision, however, I so badly want him to never interact with Zak Brown again in his life, he deserves so much better. Also I know he's still under contract or whatever, but this makes him look like he's running back to his toxic ex lol.

Lando Norris on pole is kinda annoying, but Oscar P2 let's go, we can win from that. Williams P13 and P14 is doable I can see points coming this weekend (I hope). Also The worst part of racing is that during the summer I'm so busy and I always miss stuff or have to watch replays like days later, but during the school year when I really don't have morning/daytime/day long plans, there's really no racing. I attempted to watch the first London ePrix, but was unsuccessful in finding a place to view it, but congrats to Pascal Wehrlein. Wish I could have seen it. Colton Herta on pole let's go. Kyle P2 so a full Andretti front row. I have high hopes for the race. Pato's pretty far down there, but we can work with that I guess.

Onto Sunday, the F3 race was alright. Not the most interesting race I've ever seen, and I'm also not really a Tsolov fan so I did not really care about the front. I wish either Mini or Browning had made it into the points to make things a bit more interesting. Also rip Lindblad's race. I saw Kimi Antonelli won before I started watching, my only spoiler for the day which was nice, good job by him. Rip Paul Aron's race, but other than that, it was a great race. I really enjoyed it. The F1 race made my blood pressure rise, oh my goodness. OSCAR PIASTRI WIN LET'S GOOOO!!!! I'm so happy for him. He did so great. Also, this just solidifies why I do not like Lando Norris. (Just to clarify, I'm not a team orders fan (I'm a huge Indycar fan let's be for real right now) I just am not a fan of his attitude). But anyway, I am so excited about Oscar's first win. The first of many, many wins I hope.

Why is the formula e London track so sick looking, oh my goodness. Teammate fighting seems to be the theme of the day. That was a crazy race. I love how chaotic formula e races are. I also love when championships come down to the final laps of the final race. Great job to Pascal Wehrlein. He did great this season from the few races I've seen.

Did I miss the memo about literally every car being orange in Indy this weekend??? Why are there so many orange cars. Shout out to the AMR safety team and the aeroscreen once again this weekend. Big crashes freak me out, so I'm glad everyone is okay. So many yellows and a red flag is crazy. Colton Herta won though! Let's go! and Kyle got P2! I am so happy! It was actually such a good race! Woohoo! Colton and Oscar winning on the same weekend let's go!

[patchesjam]

please share all your mcci thoughts i was so disappointed after finally getting the entry ticket i had such high hopes

i was really disappointed with it too 😭😭

i dont know i was expecting pretty much mcc games, with much the same style and gameplay. i dont particularly like any of the modifiers, especially in tgttos and battle box. i think they make good games feel a lot more gimmicky and a lot less unique and like mcc, and as someone really competitive it irritates me a bit lol. i think a lot of the games are prehaps a bit short too. i really really hate all the ui in it as well, but thats completely personal opinon.

i absolutly get why they are like they are, but i wish the games had a higher capacity and there was an option to do a 'tournament' <- ideally when more games are added you could play a selection of them with the same people just like an actual tournament.

i also dislike it because i still htink that the mcc cc practice server lends itself so much more to practice and streams on it. cc only meant you often got really unique and unusual groups going on there and fun interactions which are lost amongst the streamsniping on mcci. i also really enjoy that more 'grinding' type of games and think thats what cc's get some of the best stream content from, ie. parkour warrior, individual ace race maps, individual hitw. i mean think of all the cc podium fights over all of these. i think mcci is probably missing this for me too

[quotessharry]

Considering tomorrow’s Daniel last race (for now) it’s only fair I make a post for him.

I first came across him on YouTube by pure accident and I really liked him so I thought if I wanna see more of this beautiful human being I must get into F1 and that’s how I watched Imola 2022 (he ended up P18 after a collusion with Carlos) but one of my first images of him is him in his redbull race suit doing a shoey and I thought it’s a thing to drink out of your shoe in F1 lol.

As someone who lives in Iran (you should check out what’s going on here if you don’t know, it’s a big deal) it’s been a really hard 2-3 months and Daniel has been a real source happiness and positive energy for me, to keep my brain in right place and I’m so so sad to see him out. I really wish I could know about him much sooner.

I wish him the best in his future, no matter what it is and I wish him all the best thing in the world. Honey badger don’t quit.

Cheers to Danny, his 8 wins and 32 podiums🥂

[idolsummons]

Darthrek

A drabble about demon possession. This is very chill and will probably write one where things do not go so well for her in the future tbh ♥ no fancy formatting because apparently the new tumblr doesn't like that lol

Candles burning with tiny flames surrounded the summoning circle which the young summoner had drawn with chalk. The dimly lit room made it difficult to completely make out what was drawn on the page of the tome held in her hand, but it appeared to be correct.

She stood and moved to the lectern, where she placed the book open at the correct page. It was then that she cleared her throat and spoke in Latin, words unknown to her in a language considered dead.

When she was done, Hana held her breath.

Some seconds passed.

And the candles snuffed themselves out.

In a flurry of hellfire which rose to the ceiling the demon appeared. It was a creature very clearly taller than her even without its horns, and she swore those goat-like eyes bore into her soul, despite the fact shadows covered her hooded face.

The demon she knew to be Darthrek looked even more intimidating in real life than he did in the illustrations.

‘Why have you summoned me to this plane, mortal?’ His voice boomed and reverberated through the room - nay, through the house itself.

‘Great Darthrek,’ Hana spoke. She stepped out from behind the podium. ‘I summoned you that you might take possession of my earthly vessel, with which to do whatever you might desire.’

The demon flicked his tail about. ‘Mortals do not make deals with demons so easily. What do you hope to gain from the arrangement?’

‘Only experience.’ The same answer which she gave every demon, and Darthrek seemed to react the same as all the others; he raised a brow and scowled, but such bewilderment was soon gone as he grinned.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Then I shall wreak havoc with you as my vessel.’

Hana did not remove her eyes from the demon as his very body appeared to evaporate into a dark mist and swirl its way towards the summoner, finding whatever way into her body it could.

The body’s new host did away with the robe and examined his new body from head to toe. He did not seem exactly thrilled with the cute purple dress and pink painted nails, but a girl into such cute things could perhaps present its own unique forms of mayhem.

Darthrek laughed to himself, vocalised as a mix of Hana’s usual sweet sounding voice overlaid with the deep tones of the demon himself.

‘Such a foolish mortal.’ Darthrek threw open the ritual room door and stomped through the house, finding his way. ‘Only one who does not know the power of demons would so willingly let one do as it wished.’

That’s where you’re wrong.

‘Still kickin’ around in there?’ Finding the front door, Darthrek waltzed towards it. ‘You must have more resolve than I thought.’

He put Hana’s hand on the doorknob and…

A buzzing emanated from her pocket.

Hang on, this might be important.

‘What?’

Let me get that.

‘And why would I?’

The hand came away from the doorknob and into the pocket.

‘How are you-’

Yeah, just like I thought. One sec.

‘Hi, Minato,’ Hana chimed - sweet and innocent, just like she always was.

‘You missed rehearsals today, Hana.’

‘Was that-’

What have you done?

‘Oh no…’

How did you do this?

‘I’m sorry, Minato, one moment.’ Hana took the phone away from her ear and growled, ‘Shut up, will you? This is important.’

‘You didn’t spend time socialising today instead of coming to rehearsal, did you?’ She heard Minato gently from the other end of the line.

‘Oh, no, it’s just my sister, she’s over for dinner tonight. Look, I’m really, really sorry. I’ve been under, like, a lot of stress lately, y’know? I know that’s not, like, an excuse or anything, but-’

‘You’re the star of the show, Hana.’

‘I know…’

‘You’ve gotta do this, or you’ve gotta tell us in advance if you plan on not coming.’

‘It’s not that I didn’t wanna go, it just slipped my mind. I guess I needed to rest more than I thought.’

‘You’ll be here tomorrow.’

‘Yes, I swear on my life.’

‘Goodbye, Hana.’

‘Bye.’

Hana hung up and put the phone back in her pocket.

Now let me out.

Her hand reached for the doorknob again. It stopped before it could get all the way.

‘Oh, you thought I was gonna give you free reign to do whatever you wanted?’

That was the deal.

Hana chuckled. ‘No, no, the deal was that you possess me, and I get experience, and that’s what’s happening. You possess me, and I continue to practice remaining in control while another inhabits my earthly vessel. I thought demons were well-versed in making deals that benefit one much more than the other - but this time, I’m the one who benefits.’

And why would you need that kind of experience?

She hummed. ‘Well, I guess there’s no harm in telling you. I need to practice possession so that one day, I might be host to the great Vh’thra, that she might choose me as her vessel when she comes to this plane of existence to begin the task before her. It would be an honour to play such a part in her coming, don’t you think?’

And have Heaven and Hell both rendered into inexistence? I want no part in your plans, mortal.

Hana felt something - Darthrek, obviously - attempt to slither from her veins, only to find itself blocked immediately. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

Back to the realm from which you summoned me.

Hana laughed. ‘Oh, but you’re just a lesser demon. Do you think you’d be able to get away so easily? No, you’re going to stay put until I let you leave.’

And how long do you envision that to be?

‘Well, what I said to Minato on the phone about seeing my sister for dinner wasn’t a complete lie.’ Hana’s hand came up to the doorknob again - this time, of her own accord. ‘When I get back, I’ll see how I’m tracking and I’ll think about letting you leave then. How’s that sound?’

You sound crazy.

Hana smiled.

‘I’m not crazy.’

She opened the door.

‘I just like testing my limits.’

[arieslost]

https://www.tumblr.com/arieslost/766254707489570816/httpswwwtumblrcomarieslost766249005988659200

He’s so calm and collected I want to be him when I grow up (he’s literally 1 1/2 years older than me).

what FLOORED me was when he suggested to “sort it out by the nascar rules on track or in the pitlane” I love him. I am a McLaren hater first, but my dear Oscar, my unbothered king, they can never make me hate you

LITERALLYJDJDJCKD that’s the same energy as me calling yuki my son because yeah he’s older than me but like… that’s my son!! mama piastri and i have to work out who gets what weekend

I WISH that could happen. i would love to see nothing more than a driver taking their front wing and just yeeting it at whoever caused the damage or something like that. call me messy but i live for the drama <33

when i was first seriously getting into f1 (back half of the season last year) i appreciated mclaren but the whole “papaya family” thing was tainted for me when i learned about how k-mag and ricciardo were treated, as well as how their one indycar driver was treated this season. oscar is the only papaya i actually like tbh. i clearly used to be a big lando supporter but that changed completely after his snarky little comment to lewis in the cooldown room when lewis was just trying to compliment him. no one disrespects the GOAT. plus how sour he came across on the podium when oscar won his first grand prix, although i understand that was a difficult race for mclaren. we’ll just say lando’s in the doghouse for me and i’d be surprised if he got out any time soon lol