#mind you he said he sees things that get said online as well like “lando nowins” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yourimagines · 8 months ago

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Believing in you

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: bullying, online hate, swearing and fluff

Summary: Y/N is Lando’s girlfriend, she’s been there for him since the F2 and believes in him, even when it looks like he’s never going to achieve the things he really wants, becoming a race winner in the formula one.

Lando POV

It was an amazing feeling to win my first race in formula one. Everyone was cheering and chanting my name. “Lando, congratulations on your first win. How do you feel.” One of the reporters asks me as I walked back to my car. “It feels good, I don’t have words for it to be honest. I just want to smile.” I flashed them a smile and got in my car. “First stop the hotel, then the after party.” I said to myself as I drove away from the circuit. My mind wandered off to my girlfriend y/n, who was back in Monaco. “She’s probably screaming.” I smiled about that thought, her in my hoodie, screaming at the tv in happiness. Maybe a few tears involving as well. ‘She’s been here since the beginning….’

Flashback to 2018

“Come on Lando, just be positive about it. Maybe they want you to be their next driver, you’re already their reserve driver.” I just had a talk with McLaren about me being their reserve driver and test driver. They didn’t said anything about me actually driving for them, only about testing the car and being available during the race weekends. “They probably want George, just like Mercedes…” I sighed and sat down defeated. “Lan…I know it seems like the whole world is against you but I promise it’s not the case. Just don’t bring yourself down.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and sweetly gave me a peck on my lips. “I believe in you Norris.”

End of the flashback

I stopped the car in front of the hotel and got out, people were screaming at me and singing that song about me. “Thank you guys.” I waved at them and went inside. I quickly went to my room and sat down on my bed and took a look at my phone. She had texted me about how proud she was of me and that she knew today would be that day. ‘God….she’s perfect.’ I quickly send her a text message back and sent her the same picture I sent to my parents, me smiling happily at my phone while holding the trophy.

Flashback to 2019

I was nervous for my first race for McLaren. My girlfriend y/n was here to support me and so were my parents. “I believe in you Norris.” She says as she placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “Don’t get your hopes up, I’m never this good as my teammate Carlos.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Stop talking like this…it’s your first race of course you probably won’t defeat him but that doesn’t mean you are a bad driver Lando.” She gently brushed my shoulders before letting me go to the race track. “I’m always supporting you, no matter what.”

End of the flashback

The team picked me up from the hotel and went to one of the most popular clubs in Miami. “It’s going to be a hell of a party, I heard max is also coming.” I nodded and looked outside the car window, seeing the buildings passing us by. “Maybe Pierre as well…” they were talking about everything, the clubs, the drivers. I can’t blame them, they are just excited about my win.

Flashback to 2020

“You’re going to be on the podium today, I just know it.” She says through the phone. “I don’t know, maybe I crash and die…” I joked but she didn’t find it funny at all. “Lando! Don’t say that…it’s not funny.” She was a bit upset about the little joke I just made. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She only shook her head at me. “You’re on the podium today Norris, don’t be an asshole to me, you know I miss you right now.” She looked a bit sad at the camera. “I know you are, I miss you too.”

End of the flashback

I did get on the podium that weekend, my maiden third place. I was over the moon with that one but of course I wanted more. “You want an other one?” A young girl asked me as she raised her empty cup. “No thanks.” I said politely as I didn’t want her to think I’m available. “You sure? It’s free.” She gave me a wink and a broad smile. “Yeah I’m sure.” Before something weird could happen, max showed up with two drinks in his hands. “One for you.” He handed me a drink and smiled at the girl. “You okay?” She nods and disappears. “Weird, what did she want from you?” “Everything, I guess.” I joked as I took a sip from my drink. Max laughed and patted my shoulder. “Ladies man.”

Flashback to 2021

Rumours were spreading around the paddock that I was cheating on y/n with some other girl. Of course it’s not true but it did made a scar in our relationship. All the hate to me on the internet, being a shitty driver and a cheater. “I believe in you Norris, I trust you.” She says as she was helping me to pack my bags. “I know, it’s just frustrating that others see me differently.” I sighed and rubbed my face. “I’m not a cheater, you know her she’s a friend of max.” I shook my head and sat down, feeling worthless. “Hey, I know you didn’t cheat on me.” She sat down next to me, laying her hand on mine. “We’ll get through this, I love you Lando even with those shitty rumours.” I looked up at her and tried to smile at her. “I know.” I whispered as my voice faded. “Come here.” She opened her arms for me to hug her. “You’re not alone in this Lan.”

End of the flashback

It was very late when I arrived at the airport, Zak and the rest were there as well. Ready to board the plane. “I’m so dead.” I said as I sat down in my chair. “Me too buddy.” Zak said as he sat down in front of me. “What are your plans back in London? Visiting some family or friends?” I nodded tiredly as I checked the time. “Yeah, my parents first, maybe some friends.” He nods and gives me a pat on my shoulder. “You doing fine Lando, we’re all happy to have you in our team.” I smiled tiredly and looked outside the window. “Yeah…I’m happy too.”

Flashback to 2022

“Let’s move in together.” I said to her as we were building some legos together on my apartment floor. “Your serious?” She looked surprised at me as I just asked her to move in with me. “Yeah, why not?” I shrugged and went further with our build. “Omg you’re actually serious.” She throws her arms around my neck and pushes us down on the ground. “Love, of course I’m serious. You basically live here already.” My arms snaked around her body as she started to give me a few kisses. “I’m so excited to live with you, I need a job here and learn some more French.” She was rambling about everything, when she should move to Monaco and how to plan her days. “You’re going to be fine, you don’t need a job. You’re dating this muppet remember.” She giggles and shook her head. “I can’t do that, but thank you for your offer.”

End of the flashback

I landed in London and went immediately to my parents house, feeling happy but also drained by all the attention and stress. “Hello honey! I’m so proud of you.” My mom said as she greeted me with a hug. “Hi mom, thank you.” She guided me inside their house and saw my dad and my siblings waiting for me. “Hey guys.” “Congratulations son.” My dad immediately pulled me into his embrace. “Thanks dad.”

Flashback to 2023

She was there as I stood on the podium again, she was smiling happily at me. I was feeling proud to make her that happy and she made me happy too. “I’m so proud of you Lan.” She hugged me as soon she got the chance. “Thank you my love.” She placed a kiss on my cheek and smiled happily at me. “I knew you would be on the podium today.” It always feels bittersweet, being on the podium but not as the race winner. “Yeah, I’m still Lando Nowins.” She stopped smiling and slightly slapped my chest. “No, don’t listen to that crap. They are haters Lando, there are enough people like me that are supporting you.” I shrugged and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Whatever, let’s just go back to the hotel and celebrate.”

End of the flashback

I was a few days in London before I traveled back to Monaco, back to my girl who was waiting for me. I opened the door and before I could step one foot inside she flew into my arms. “Lan!” I almost fell as I catches her, holding her tightly. “I’m so proud of you, I knew it.” She buried her face in my neck and I carried her back inside, closing the door behind me with my foot. “I know, I knew it too baby.” She had tears in her eyes, looking so proud at me. “No more Lando Nowins.” She said with a giggle and I joined her. “You know that makes me even more proud, proving them wrong.” She nods and kisses me. “You were never Lando Nowins to me.” I smiled at her and sat her down on our kitchen counter. “I know, I’m your muppet.” She laughs and nods. “I freaking love you.” I said to her as she looked so beautiful to me, that proud feeling was there again. “I love you too Lan.”

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goldsbitch · 3 months ago

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Hypochondria

part 4 to p1, p2, p3

He can sense her emotions, she feels his pain. Baby steps, that's the only way to go.

author's note: guess who's back - and a promised smut chapter turned into slow burn. any reported typos are appreciated. there will be p5.

"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."

He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.

Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, head getting filled with desire and lust. Lando's lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.

"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."

Lando was on cloud nine. He was just staring at her as if she was a miracle. Her deep eyes unable to stay away from looking at him and lips that had a silent invitation written on them.

He was high on the way how relaxed she felt, proud that he made her feel like that. It was as if there was no yesterday or tomorrow. Just them and the couch. And after few moments of silence and collecting his bravery, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

It was clear to him from the moment he took her upper lip in that he'd give anything for this moment to take at least a thousand years. She did not hesitate and kissed him back immediately. The sweetest touch a woman can give. Leaned in and let nature do its miracles. He smiled into her lips and pushed himself closer to her, making her sink in the couch.

It was right then when a loud, impatient knock nearly sent them both into shock. Lando froze and back away from Y/N little bit, furious with whomever that dared to disturb a key moment in their lives.

"Lando, I apologize, but we have an urgent matter on our hands."

He rolled his eyes and let a deep breath out, recognizing the voice of his workoholic PR manager. This was not the first and probably the last time he had to tell his team off in the dark of the night. Internet never sleeps.

"Can it really not wait this time until tomorrow?" he said before he gave Y/N shameful and apologetic look. She just kept herself quiet, sunken into the comfy couch.

"I'm afraid we will need some immediate action," came from behind the door after another impatient knock.

Lando got his phone out to check the time, only to see 17 missed calls from several people.

"Ok, I'm coming."

He half opened the door to a very flustered PR manager, who looked like he was about to announce a coming tornado. Lando just raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to spill the beans and then planning on dismissing him.

"Anita released a break up TikTok. It's going viral."

As far as emergencies go, this one felt to Lando like a second-tier one. He was more concerned about the anxiety he felt coming from Y/N. Kind of wished she was kept out of it, for her own good.

"I'm sure we can address this in few hours," Lando replied calmly.

"She accused you of cheating. In a very colorful manner, I must say," the guy continued, as if he was not confident enough to fully explain the situation. "I'm in touch with her publicist, so that we can come up with a joint statement online. Apparently she won't talk to anyone but you."

Lando stayed silent, the only thing he really wanted was to close the door and return to the couch.

"We can't have another cheating scandal. McLaren will get involved," he pleaded once again in hopes of finally convincing Lando.

Deep breath. "Sure. Can I meet you at the lobby or somewhere in few minutes?" Lando caved in. A puzzled look flashed over his PR's manager, because usually Lando preferred to solve his crises in the comfort of his suite. The driver hoped no comment would come his way. After few seconds, the guy finally nodded.

"Understand, sure. I'll see if we can get the conference room."

He closed the door and tried to brace himself for any type of reaction Y/N might have. But deep inside he knew - seen it countless times. She abruptly got up, fixed her clothes, flashed him only one quick look before avoiding his face completely.

"Um, I'm gonna-"

"Yeah," he said, letting her pass by. The reality hit hard. She barely knew him. Somehow, the air got flooded with inescapable loneliness.

Y/N tried her best to follow her daily routine the following week. The memory of her running away from Lando's room like a little child chasing her like a nightmare. It was just so humiliating. The guilt, unjustified, was eating her up. She tried to stay away from social media, but her will was not strong enough. Late night scrolling included absorbing lot of Lando hate.

He also did his best to keep himself busy and focus on his job. If it had been any other person, he'd already be chasing Y/N down and try to reason with her, get this experience behind them and keep starting fresh. Perhaps he was lucky, that he knew her and if he's pushed immediately, she'd just hide even more.

He found himself on the track during free practice, constantly stealing glances over to the medical tents, just to get a glimpse of his guilt-ridden soulmate. All he wanted to do was shake some sense to her. That evening he finally snapped. No more hiding. He was about to get creative.

So there he was, alone once again, in a random hotel room, in a city he barely remembered the name of, trying to get a hand of morse code. Something he never thought would be his issue, ever. It was a shot in the dark. Pinch a message into his arm and hoping she'd understand his intention. After all, she felt his pain, so he figured if he was annoying enough, she'd have no choice but to show up. Many curse words were uttered about the absurdity and difficulty of it all, before Lando got a hand of it. He opted to focus on the rhytmn and after he felt confident enough, abandoned tapping into a table and began pinching his left hand.

Let's talk. Room 1014. Please.

Over and over again. It was so incredibly annoying. But, he was going to persevere even if it meant having a bruise tomorrow.

After what felt like like seven thousand years - a knock on the door.

This was it, he thought as he opened the door to equally annoyed person. She shot arrows from her eyes and he could not help but smirk. She cracked the code, but he won.

"Now, let's get one thing clear," she opened with, hands firmly on her hips, "you are not going to use this trick outside of an emergency. Ok?". Her face did this strange twitch, she obviously had a hard time admitting he won that round. He leaned over the door frame, not caving in to her anger. Stood like a patient anchor, waiting for the sea to calm down. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, failing at keeping her look so stern. It's been few days since they last locked eyes. She could practically sink in his. He just gave her a small nod, definitely not planning on misusing this ever again. Absolutely not.

"I'm glad you understood," he said and let her walk in. Was he nervous? That was probably the closest thing to describe it.

"I don't know the Morse code, so that made it super fun," she proclaimed and stopped in the middle of the living room, not sitting down on any of the chairs or couches.

"Me neither. But you better learn it, you never know..." he teased and walked dangerously close to her. She kept her gaze down.

She spoke before he could say any more cheeky lines. "So, I'm here. Anything specific you wanted to say that exceeded your ability of speaking in Morse code?" Her attitude hurt. However, he was not going to let her push him away so easily. "Y/N, this is not going to work on me. You can't push me away so easily, so just try and stop it. Please." Big gulp on her part followed by a light nod. "Good. Listen, I don't want to let this fizzle out so easily. It's hard to think about anything else once I've met you. I'm sorry about the whole break up mess. It's not fair to you. But, in my defense, I had no idea I'd just randomly be sat next to...you," he said, practically breathing out the last word.

She began walking frantically. "It's...um, it's a lot. Your world. And then the fact you seem to know things and are so far ahead in this game."

"It's not a game to me, Y/N," he said, watching her pace around the room.

She stopped by the bed and sat on it, finally able to look at him again. "Ok, bad word, but still," she paused and searched for the right words. "We have nothing to connect with...I mean nothing real."

Lando was not going to buy into doubts. His mind was set. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat next to her.

"Does it scare you? That you are tied to me basically against your will?" he asked the one thing he was afraid to hear the answer to. But he figured that the beginning was never suppose to be easy anyway.

"A little bit. Actually yes, it does," she said, in a strangely releaved tone and his heart sank just few stories lower. Lost in his own head, he nearly missed her giving up on sitting and landing on her back with a thud, eyes locked with the ceiling.

"I never liked being pushed into things. It's my life, I get to call the shots," she began to let her thoughts run freely.

"Choosing something that comes to you willingly does not have mean giving up your free will...I'd just like to at least give this a chance. I know already that I can't be your friend," he whispered, turned his look towards her and slowly lowered himself on his back as well, lost in his thoughts once again.

Lando's body laid still, but his heart was beating as if he was in the final quali lap. He had the advantage, drew the better card. Unique insight into another human's soul. Short cuts and few cheat answers for any test ahead of them. So why did it make him feel all the more lonely? He was reaching out, confused in the exact same capacity as she was, but she was not giving him much back. Yet. If was obvious. He was miles ahead of her, not thanks to his own doing. He could be there for her, but it would take some time and a lot of luck for her to be able to be there for her.

"Can you stay here? For the night?" he asked in a soft low voice, unable to hide his own vulnerability. "Not like, you know," he added immediately, hoping he comes off the least creepy as possible, "Just like this." Baby steps. He was praying for just that.

The body next to him also laid still in a very stiff manner, the exact opposite of relaxed. But the pull towards him was just too loud to resist. It was stronger than her. Curiosity tripped over the tiny fear inside her, grabbed the innate desire for human connection by the hand, and together opened the door for Lando to enter.

"Yes," she whispered, wondering if there is anything she wanted to add.

A small smile crept onto Lando's face. He got up and shot the light off. Both of them settled in a more relaxed pose, albeit still fully dressed. If by some miracle he manages to fall asleep, he will be waking up next to this magnificent, magical being for the first time. And hopefully not the last.

They laid next to each other, like the strangers they were, for few minutes, before she found her own little hand reaching out for his. Soft fingers mixed with his. At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. Lando's heart almost stopped, his breath caught in and resulted in gulp, too loud for the current setting. She could not help but smile and tried to hide it with pressing her lips together - even though it was dark night and both of them had their eyes closed. He mimicked her movements and traced her fingers as well. Every little place he touched burned with intoxicating intensity. He held her index finger lightly while she brushed up and down his thumb.

For the first time in years, Lando was careful. He'd rather lie next to her in silence than risking her wanting him to leave. The guilt from bruising her with his crash still hadn't left his mind. But when her hand crept more and more inside of his, he could not help but circle around it, until he was covering her hand completely. The air was still. Two scared souls discovering each other, tiptoeing around as if they were made of glass. Once Lando started drawing little circles on the palm of her hand, he finally felt her beginning to relax. He was still trying to get his mind wrapped around how the whole connection worked. Perhaps the more open she was to communicating with him, the more of a window he got. His next words slipped through without much of a thought.

"I've dreamt about you probably thousand nights."

Y/N could not recall the last time she heard a sentence that sounded so honest. Raw, it was almost childlike. She thought about her own countless nights when she slept alone and longed for a soul to crawl to. And also all those times she wasn't alone in the middle of the night, yet it still felt like eating someone else's dinner. The emptiness never truly filled. Hand never fitting someone else's like a well-fitted glove. Was there ever anyone who told her something like this before? Probably not. Of course not.

"I'm scared," she repeated.

"I know," he smirked for himself only. "I can feel it...But can you please tell me what's scaring you at this moment? I'd love to understand."

This time it was her who chuckled and squeezed his hand a bit. His heart once again beating so loudly he was scared she could hear it.

"I randomly meet this man, this devilisly handsome guy, who seems to know things I've never even told anyone, is hyperaware of my emotions, as if they were his own...How am I suppose to resist this?"

"Why would you?"

"If we proceed with this, I am basically allowing you to become a weapon designed to destroy me. If, or more likely when, I fall for you...How can anyone else ever top that? If you decide that you're bored with me, I'll quite literally only be left with bruises."

He listened to every word, as if it was a gospel, and this time took a second to calculate his response. Lando opened his eyes to try and see a glimpse of her face in the dead of night, only to find her already looking at him.

"As far as I remember, you were always a part of my life. The one constant that does not leave," he said and licked his dry lips. If she was becoming vulnerable, he'd have to do the same. "If I fuck this up, if you decide that I am not worth spending time with and if you walk away...I'll still be left with the glimpses. I'll have to watch from afar, knowing you don't feel this. Funnily enough, I'd argue that you have the option to choose. I don't."

"And do you even want it? Would you-" she tried to continue with her question, but he interrupted her immediately.

"Of course. Hundred times over. I know you're scared, but I am scared too. Because there is a perfect piece of puzzle right in front of me and if I fuck it up, I am ruined for life."

She only saw a small reflection of light in his eyes, but that was enough to understand he was serious. Her shoulders relaxed and she let a breath she didn't know she had been holding, out.

"Well, good to know you are a dramatic person," she responded, trying to lighten up the mood.

It worked, his small smirk entered the chat again. "Yeah well, get use to it," he said with a new found confidence, tried his luck once more and scooted over to her just a little bit.

"Sorry, there was a hard spot in the matrace," he said cheekily and closed his eyes, trying to play it cute.

His body heat radiated towards her. "Of course, a hard spot in this top-of-the-world matrace," she questioned his argument with a smile, his magic getting her head-over-heels.

"Yes, I'll complain with to the staff tomorrow, these things can really fuck up your sleep, you know."

"So true. And what, have you solved it now?" Another door opened. Lando smiled.

"Still not perfect," he remarked, pretended to have a moment to think and finally moved all the way next to her and put his arm around her. "Yeah, this is the only way I'm afraid."

She was glad his eyes were closed, because her smile was impossible to hide. Both of them were fully aware there is no hard spot on the matrace. "Of course it is," she commented, as she settled down in his embrace.

Her face was now settled in crook of his neck, her uneven breaths leaving goosebumps on his skin. His light stubble teasing her forehead. Once again, Lando was overwhelmed just how well she fit in his embrace. He had to actively try and breathe regularly, because he was anxious about giving away just how much he was enjoying having her in his embrace. Her hand was pressed against his chest and Y/N had to fight every cell in her body, because the urge to explore his body was overcoming her. Lando shifted a bit, having to to try and find a spot where his belt wasn't pressing on his body in a way that hurt. Immediately, he felt a sudden wave of guilt coming from her and she bolted straight up. Had he fucked it all up? He cursed himself, he should have just pushed through it.

He forgot to take in the fact she felt his pain. "What's wrong?" he asked shyly, as he also sat up to match her moves.

She took a deep breath. "I don't want to seem like I'm suggesting something, but can we get out of our daily clothes? I hate sleeping like that." Who would like that anyway, was the thought that crept into Lando's mind, but he kept it for himself, more than overjoyed that he didn't have to suggest that. "Sure, no problem."

"Do you have some t-shirt I could borrow?" she asked, turning on the light next to his bed, sitting with her back turned to him, perhaps trying to hide away. Lando tried his best not to get shaken up and loose his cool. This wasn't her running away and it was also not her suggesting anything.

"Of course," he said and got up to search up the best clean t-shirt her had. She took a deep breath as she tried not to stare, guessing by the sounds that he was getting undressed. But, as she did, she was happy he did not see her blush. Just like he did before, she forgot to take in account that he felt her sudden arousal and curiosity without having to look at her. For a change, he was happy he had his advantage. He peeked over to her, seeing her abrupt turn back. It was hard not to be amused by her.

"Here you go," he said as he strolled back over to her and handed her his t-shirt. "Don't worry, I won't look," he informed her and as the cheeky guy he was deep down, added his signature wink. "I'm sure there is an extra tooth brush in the bathroom, if you wanna join," he continued and walked over to the other side of the suite, hoping she was watching him walk around in boxers only.

Finally having some distance and a minute to contain herself, she carefully undressed, leaving on only her panties and his shirt on. Only then she noticed just how intoxicating his natural smell was. Knowing well enough she was doomed.

When Y/N finally joined him in the bathroom, he gave her the second toothbrush in silence and kept brushing his own teeth. It was refreshing seeing her in such an intimate setting. He tried as best as he could not to notice just how hot she looked in his t-shirt. Watching her in the reflection, he realized he never appreciated a moment like that with anyone else before. He smiled at her, because he could see her shy nature peeking through causing her hair behind her ear.

She was about to join him back in the bed when she saw him placed right in the middle of the bed, far from when was last time she approached him like that.

"It's the hard spot, there is no other way," he brushed over it nonchalantly and tucked himself in the bed. "Come on, here, here," he patted a spot next to him. In the dim light, with shadows only highlighting his toned chest, curly hair falling over to his eyes, innocent smile and opened arms, he was like a mystical creature created only to entrap Y/N. At least, that's how that felt. No way back.

She slipped in the bed with him, to the exact position as they were just minutes ago and turned of the light once again. This time, Lando was way more relaxed even Y/N noticed the difference. With each passing moment it was becoming less and less stiff or awkward. Comfort replacing natural stress of sharing a bed with a stranger for the first time. For a brief second, it was as if they'd done this every night before drifting off to sleep. Lando was happy to take things slow. Not expecting anything more. He was content with knowing she was not planning on leaving him there alone that night and that was enough. Not for Y/N. Her body was acting way before her mind could stop her. Her now warm fingers started drawing little stars on his exposed chest. It was peaceful. Until her finger moved a little lower. Another gulp from Lando. She felt him tightening his grip on her.

"Careful now...I might get the wrong idea," he breathed out for only her to hear.

Their lips were so riddiculously close, yet too far away. The only thing she wanted to do was kiss him. All restraint suddenly gone. But she needed to be sure - did he wanted to kiss her? If she dared to ask him, he'd laugh out loud at the obviousness of it all. Poor guy didn't notice her desire because he spent all of his energy trying to hide his.

She licked her lips. "Wrong idea...like sending me away?"

Loud sigh from Lando. "No..the wrong wrong idea," he whispered, being so close to her she could feel his soft breath, as he started to move his hard up her arm, under the t-shirt he gave her. She became very aware of the fact she was not wearing a bra, something Lando noticed the moment she came to the bathroom. His arm stopped momentarily at her shoulder. " Wrong idea that you want me to do this..." he continued moving his hand again, "...or this," reached up to her collarbone while pressing her closer to him with his other arm. "Or heaven forbid..." he whispered a question as his lips were nearly touching hers. Lando was too scared to make the first move, still afraid she might vanish into thin air.

She was brave enough to close the gap. "Or this." With that, she kissed him.

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@ushygushybaby

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago

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Hiii girl 🪻💐! First, nice to meet you xx ! I really love your vibe. Love purple pp 💜! Can I request a small os, please? I saw you wrote monegasque reader and all cute os. Can I ask you (you choose) Lando/Charles/Oscar with inked!reader (like full arms tattoos and stuff) it’s always wag so ✨perfect clean✨, I’m tired to see the clean vibe, I want to be delulu with rockie vibe, feminine tattooed wag, normal wag 😬. Topic could be : new tattoo with driver reaction or handle with people opinion. Thanks 💜🪻 if you’re not feeling to write it, it’s okay too. Have a nice day xx

Note: hiiii! Welcome to this little corner of the Internet I made along with everyone who follows this blog! Thank you - this is supposed to be as much a safe pace for you as it is for me 🫶 I hope you had a good day, too! 🫶

"Someone spotted you when you left the tattoo studio", Oscar said as he stepped inside the apartment after having spent the day in the Center, noticing you were wearing a cardigan even though it was a warm day out, "they posted a picture online".

"So it's not a surprise, is it?", you slumped your shoulders slightly, shrugging the cardigan off.

"I don't know what you got, so it's still a surprise, sweetheart", he smiled, hugging you and being mindful of the wrap around your arm.

Oscar sat on the sofa and allowed you to model the new tattoos for him. Your right arm didn't seem to have any new ink to it, the same three tattoos you had in there still looking beautiful after two years. You like the idea of having one arm slightly more bare than the other so your right arm only had those three on the inner side of it, peeking through whenever you were sleeveless tops. Your left arm was the one where the tattoos were the most noticeable, the ink pieces scattered along the extension of the limb.

"I got this one, it's a bee", you pointed to the inner part of your arm, "it represents my safe hive, the people who are always there for me even if I'm not there in person", you explained. You had moved in with Oscar a couple of months ago and, more than ever, you spent long periods of time away from your family since you travelled to see your boyfriend race as much as you could, "I know I can fly away, but no matter how far and how hard times can be, I'll always be able to come back".

"It looks so pretty, the detail on the wings is so precise", Oscar pointed out.

"I chose the artist at that studio because she is great at doing the fine line tatoos with red ink", you began again, smoothing out through wrap so Oscar could see, "it's a heart with some flowers blooming from it", you pointed to the anatomical drawing, "whenever I set myself to do something, I pour my heart and soul into it, and my intuition hasn't failed me, so it's a little symbol to that".

"The red is somehow both subtle against your skin and so eye catching as well, I think it's the contrast with this one here", Oscar lightly touched an older tattoo you had next to the new one.

"Then I got this one, which I am quite nervous to show you, actually", you admitted, looking at your right wrist and covering it for the mean time, "I know people are really fussy with having a relationship tattooed on you because things can change so fast, but I don't like to think like that - my tattoos represent times of my life and things that happened - and if anything happens and I can't absolutely tolerate it, I can always remove it", you shrugged your shoulders before uncovering it.

Oscar held your hand and inspected it gently - the thin knot was both black and red, symbolising you and Oscar with the different colours but tied together seamlessly.

"I had to get it on my right one because I wear my watch on the left", you mumbled and a little twinge of nervousness could be spotted in your tone given that he hadn't said anything, "do you like it?", you bit the bullet.

"I love it, it's so beautiful, delicate and feminine too", he smiled, kissing around it.

"I also got a lightning bolt here", you twisted your wrist, "this one is just black and it's quite tiny, but it's about all the times I insisted and persisted - my stubbornness too - and how much I value that in people", you smiled.

"You're stubborn? Never would have guessed it", your boyfriend teased, earning your giggles and an eyeroll from you, "the line is so beautiful, she did an amazing job!", he complimented.

"I also got my first neck tattoo", you mumbled, "well, it's the first time I do it there, not sure if that means I'll do another because it hurt a bit more than I expected", you blushed, letting Oscar pull your hair back so he could see it.

The red inked word was aligned with your ear, "I chose the word rare because it's a devotion to myself, my self-love - accepting that I'm not perfect and that that is okay - I love myself the way I am and it's also a lot thanks to you", you tried to keep the tears pooling on your eyes from falling, "you loved me for me, all of me, no matter how many times people liked to point out any of my tattoos or how I don't fit the 'wag role', and I want a reminder of it everyday", you smiled.

Oscar cupped your jaw gently, careful of the sore area as he kissed your lips in a hard, long, searing kiss, joining your foreheads afterwards, "I love you, Y/N, all of you", he whispered.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#oscar piastri blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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chilling-seavey · 25 days ago

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Thank you for responding.

First off, I’d like to mention the penalties. Max and Lando’s penalties were very different. Max got given a one-place-grid penalty, for a reason nobody has seen before. Lando got a penalty for something that’s common knowledge during a yellow flag. Max absolutely had the right to be upset at the FIA making up bullshit as an excuse to penalise him.

I also think Max was absolutely fine to mention what he said to the media. I wouldn’t say he’s attempting to paint George in a bad light, and rather exposing the fact he acts different behind closed doors. That’s a pretty valid thing to tell people, no? I, too, would talk out against someone I respected, if they tried to act like they didn’t care in front of the majority, but when it comes to the stewards, he switches up.

As for this part;

“Additionally, being able to have mature conversations online or interacting with other bloggers who want to discuss the implications of what happened this weekend doesn’t mean we are spreading hate.”

As someone who has been following this blog for quite some time, I find this pretty hypocritical, honestly. A recent example being the Charles/Carlos situation last race weekend. You reposted a meme in Charle’s defence— fine, do as you wish. I wouldn’t mind otherwise, but last weekend Charles’ words had very xenophobic undertones. Attacking his teammate’s language and insinuating he doesn’t understand the English language, all because he was pissed? Charles was pretty hateful last weekend, and I’d argue that spreading his words and agenda is feeding into the Carlos hate. Also to add on— I struggle to see how you are on Charles’ side on that issue, when he ran his own mouth to the media this week AND last week.

There’s also the reblog from last week, talking about how Lewis exudes energy of being a sore loser and not happy for anyone else. Arguably major George-bias from yourself, which is expected. But that’s reblogging hate, whether you meant it that way or not. You still done it.

There is a decent bit of hypocrisy on this blog, in my opinion. You have your preferences and opinions— that’s normal, that’s fine. But, when you preach about not wanting to see hate about your favourites, but proceed to hate on drivers you dislike (whether you do it intentionally or not), is extremely hypocritical.

For the penalties, I think everyone in their right mind is in agreement so I have no 'argument' here. The FIA has been in upheaval with these penalties and especially this weekend. The inconsistency drives me nuts and I'm sure the rest of us as fans agree yet alone the drivers. It seems to only be getting worse since the GPDA post too. Yeah, they all, Max included, have every right to be mad. That's not George's fault though, he's not the stewards or the FIA. All he can offer is his view and his opinion and, like we know, all these drivers are selfish mfs so he's going to be selfish about it. Max certainly has his moments with the same mindset as I'm sure every other driver has as well, whether we know of it or not.

I don't agree that Max was fine to say what he said and, honestly, that's a hill I'll die on. He could definitely express frustrations, mention disagreements, but going to the extend of 'fuck off with that' and 'I lost all respect' is very over the top.

I think there's nothing wrong with George or anyone acting differently on camera than behind closed doors. I always try to view this sport like a career...like a day at the office. The drivers being in front of the cameras is like me talking to my clients. I should be censoring myself, carrying myself politely, respectfully, maturely. I reflect the company for which I am hired. If I am super mad at my boss or a co-worker or anything, I'm not going to be bitching about it to my client. That's not right or appropriate. Hence, why George might 'appear more polite to the cameras'. He's carrying himself professionally.

On the other hand, if there is an issue between co-workers and our boss, that's where we can be more pushy, more ourselves, or whatever else. We want to fight for what we think is right; it's a private place away from our 'clients' or the public in this matter where we can do this. Of course, we don't know the extent of this specific situation because none of us were there, but I think Max laying all that out to dry on a public platform is still uncalled for. What happens in the stewards' space isn't publicized for a reason. That's their behind the scenes work. Their private discourse.

I don't see it like George being 'two faced' as Max seemed to imply and how some fans have seemed to take it. I understand it to be he composes himself professionally in front of his 'clients' to reflect the name of his company to the best of his ability, and, behind closed doors, he can fight a little more and be a bit more open and brash for what he wants to achieve. That's honestly incredibly mature of him to do.

Moving on to your next point here, I do see what you mean. I'm not going to claim myself to be a perfect person with a silly little tumblr blog that squeaky clean of faults. At the end of the day, I try my best to keep my reblogs of cruel negativity to a minimum and only try to reblog or comment statements that I feel have a solid basis.

The Lewis one, for instance, I feel has a basis. I respect Lewis as an incredible driver, one of the greatest in the sport, and outside of racing I think he's truly an amazing person. This season — since I've only been watching as of this season — I've only ever seen him act very poorly when his teammate or others do well. I find him to be very off-putting in these situations. That's not me going out of my way to say "oh Lewis SUCKS and I hate him and he should retire", that's not my intention at all, it's me agreeing that I think he has a tendency to act a bit like a sore loser. Similarly to this weekend, with the situation with Max, where I have reblogged things that mention his attitude in his interviews and how he has carried himself in a way that I don't agree with. That's not hate��at least not from my point of view—that's how I have perceived various situations. (Besides, I know George is obsessed with Lewis and is literally his #1 fan so me being George fan has nothing to do with my distaste of some of the things Lewis says or does!)

The Carlos stuff is a touchy subject, honestly, as people may know that Carlos is one of my two least favourite drivers on the grid. I have so much that I can say about him that I keep to dms with my friends because I don't want to post hate because I know a lot of people really love him and, honestly, I have better things to do than post negativity about people. That's not who I want to be.

Last weekend was a shit show, really. I do think Carlos could have carried himself differently in terms of team orders but that's his decision at the end of the day and ultimately not my call or my business. In the same breath, I do empathize with Charles' frustrations. Yes, his radio post-race was dramatic but it felt more like a direction to Carlos and the team than anything. Plus, I'm always a bit more lenient in regards to in-car radios from anyone since I know all of their adrenaline is through the roof. The Spanish comment, however, I do see your point here. Honestly, until you said it, I took it as a lighthearted joke that you might say amongst friends and I like to believe that's how Charles intended it but, again, who are we to know. We aren't him. So, okay, that is a fair point and it's why discourse like this is important because it allows us to see different point of views.

I didn't see much at all of the post-race stuff last weekend since it was 3am to me so I just went to sleep (lol) so I'm not sure what (if anything) was said by Charles post-race. Again, like I mentioned earlier, I'm always a bit more hesitant to judge what they say in the heat of the moment in car because those are adrenaline fueled strong feelings (I have had the same mindset through the whole season, especially with Max/Lando radio battles and things of the sort, and even some strange things George has come on the radio to say! Just because he's my favourite doens't make him 'perfect'). So, I'm not sure if Charles continued anything in the post-race interviews that was along the same lines or if it was more of his 'it was disappointing, we'll talk as a team' excuse to simply pacify the interviewers and get away.

Like I mentioned in my last reply too, my post about not wanting to see 'hate' is that of posts stemmed from pure unbridled slander that is cruel towards their person, their career, or anything of the sort to extreme amounts where it almost comes across as completely made up just to suit someone's own agenda. I still stand with my idea that I try my best to not reblog things of that sort. As mentioned above, there will sometimes be the odd thing I agree with in my own post-race feelings that I reblog but I always try to make sure that what I'm expressing through my reblogs has at least a basis of "fact" (for lack of a better word). i.e. Lewis acting like a sore loser after some races that I have in fact seen multiple instances of, or Max speaking in an interview in a way that speaks poorly of his counterparts that I don't agree with.

I appreciate you wanting to have this discussion and I am always willing to have such discussions where needed. At the same time, it's important to remember that I am still a random fan who runs a tumblr blog and I'm not going to be able to get everything right 100% of the time. If someone doesn't agree with what I post or you just don't like me for whatever reason that's your own to have, there is absolutely no harm in unfollowing or blocking. It's not personal and I understand that. I try my best to stay true to myself and to keep this blog a safe space regardless of who your favourite drivers are. Yes, sometimes I may reblog out of high emotions here or there, nevertheless I do try. I really do try.

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magical-oppas · 8 months ago

Text

I was tagged by @481boxboxbaby thanks bestie <3

Who is your favorite driver?

Ohhh I can't really pick between Max or Carlos but if you put a gun to my head right at this moment my answer would probably be Carlos.

Do you have other favorite drivers?

Oh yes, I am very bad at "solo stanning" (that's a kpop term but you get what I mean)

My faves are Max, Carlos, Charles, Lando, Oscar and Yuki

Who is your least favorite driver?

Its just my personal preference to never answer this question because I just find it unnecessary to put it out into the world. Of course there are drivers I do not like and I do occasionally bitch about them, I just prefer to that privately to my friends :)

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?

Both, its just in the nature of the sport isn't it? You have a team but there is so much talent on the grid that I feel like one does oneself a disservice by limiting it to only the two drivers on the team one cheers for.

If you like teams what teams do you pull for?

Ferrari. I'm really basic.

How long have you been into F1?

I have been properly aware of it since 2022 but I didn't start following it, as in watching every race, before 2023.

What got you into F1?

I have always loved sports. I'm a big football fan (the real one, not the American one) and I absolutely ADORE figureskating so I was already primed to love it.

The story is basically that me and my fiancé, then boyfriend, really wanted to have something to root for together. We both love football but I'm a Barcelona fan and he is a Real Madrid fan, you see the issue. So he said

"Babe, I think you would love F1. Check out this Netflix show so you are up to speed and then we can watch it together. I wont tell you what team we like, you will see that there really is only one correct team and driver to root for."

So I did. I gathered all my snacks and prepared myself for a binge watch. I fell in love with the sport around halfway into the first episode. I finished it and happily went to report back to my love. This is the exact conversation we had

"So, you picked the correct team and driver right?"

"Ofc! You were right it was so obvious. How can one NOT like Max? He is fantastic!"

"...Babe"

"...Yeah?"

"I like Lewis Hamilton."

"Fuck."

The end<3

Do you enjoy fic/rpf?

I don't mind it. As long as people are not weird about it, like actually believe that their ships are true or tell drivers about ao3, I don't see the issue.

How do you view new fans?

I mean, I'm new. Can I really have an opinion on this?

If I can have one then it is that you are born knowing nothing. You have been new to everything in life at some point. It is just part of our journey as humans. Stop being mean to people for not knowing things.

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?

HAAS. For shits and gigs you know.

Are your friends and family into F1?

Other than my fiancé I have two irl friends who really love it. My poor mother is forced to listen to my ramblings so she knows a lot but she finds the sport pointless.

And then obviously all of my online friends and my F1 mutuals on tumblr<3

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?

ALWAYS

There is not a single question, opinion or random thought someone has sent me here on tumblr that I haven't cherished. If you are hesitating about becoming my friend here is your sign. Send me the message. Send me the ask. I promise you, I will never EVER find it annoying. If you can't tell by the length of this post, I really love to yap, and I really love to yap about F1<3

Tagging @1337wtfomgbbq @norribobs @charlalos

And if this just happens to be on your dash, you are now tagged by me<3

Of course there is no pressure to do this

#tag game #jesus this got long #but i have so much to say!!!!#F1 #Formula 1 #mint talks

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vamossainz55 · 1 year ago

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Yeah, no doubt Charles gets his share of hate, in fact every driver does, more or less, I was just talking specifically about Carlos. I’d never fault Charles for what people do online, he’s not responsible for them. I do kinda wish ferrari would speak up and ask everyone to stop trying to create a rift between Charles and Carlos but that’s very unlikely to happen, in fact it might enrage people even more haha

It’s always, always the same type of people hating drivers, some of them even basically admit they find it fun to be mean which absolutely baffles me. To each their own I guess.

Carlos in his Mclaren era was a delight, that combination of his own decision to be more himself than he was before (like he said in some interview) and also being paired up with Lando who instantly connected with him worked really well. To me it seems like Carlos needs a much more lighthearted environment to thrive in it, and Ferrari are really far from that… like, being a Ferrari driver puts a certain label on you that you have to be more put together, since it’s a team with such history. Ferrari as a whole need to unclench, stop living off their past victories and truly move forward if they want to be the winning team again. Idk, that’s just how I see things, there’s too much focus on the past, on their legacy, and it’s hurting them more than helping

Anyway, the fact that Tifosi were totally behind Carlos from the moment the weekend started until the very end was really heartwarming ahhh I think the support from everyone was one of the factors why it all went so well for him because ngl, at times this year it seemed like he’d lost some confidence in himself. Hopefully I’m wrong or that it’s all resolved now if I’m not. If only the car was good enough to fight for wins 😭

I guess I’m in a rant mood as well haha, feel free to tell me to stop spamming you 🫶

waaah ! i hope you didnt take it any wrong way- didnt mean you specifically with the charles hate, its just something thats been a bit more conscious in my mind recently and i just wanted to let it out. but yeah, charles is the last person responsible of the hate ofc. i actually prefer ferrari saying nothing about it, i do think itll make matters worse and ultimately ferrari need to fix themselves first 😂.

but yes its usually the same type of people and sometimes its just so so embarrassing. like i get second hand embarrassment sometimes seeing some the things people post to hate on the driver, i just don’t understand how some of them can lack self awareness. ive also been blocked by some accounts on tumblr even though ive never said anything about their fav or interacted w them (infact i love their fav too) but maybe ita cause im a carlos account haha.

mclaren era was so so beautiful i miss it so dearly and i get saddened that he isnt there anymore but ultimately i do think ferrari was a good mood. even though it hurts and sucks ita good that carlos is outside of his comfort zone and that he needs to push his elbows out a little but i agree with all your points, ferrari does need to get off the highhorse theyre on (pun not intended 😂) and reflect as to why they arent performing and the type of environment they have. i do think theyre the team thats stuck in old ways, they need to innovate and think outside the box myb idk.

as for carlos this year and his confidence- i think last year really took a toll on him but hes much more confident in himself this year in terms of consistency. hes back to his old self and i think even though the car isnt performing as good hes still pushing the limits whilst being aware of when to stop. but if its the case where hes missing a bit of confidence still i really hope he finds it after monza. we all are really rooting for him. the car and where its at is a pity, but im hoping both charles and carlos just need this breather this season and in some miraculous way the car will catch up next year.

also do not apologize for the rant, i wrote a whole essay i think 😂. but im enjoying this so dont worry your little pretty head about it

#nik rambles #vamossainz55 answers #anon <3 #chismes con nik !

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sergiovinazzi · 3 years ago

Text

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

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footballdaydream · 4 years ago

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Hi would u mind writing something cute where the reader enters the room when lando is streaming and just a cute moment together. Then he ends the stream and they cuddle up in his gaming room with the cute lights

You didn’t mean to interrupt his streaming. You just didn’t hear anything coming from his room hence you assumed that he wasn’t online at all however when you entered the room and saw that he was indeed playing a game, it was too late to back out of the room again. Your eyes widened lightly, the mistake of entering already made.

You and Lando had never hidden your relationship however this was your first time entering one of his streams and the fact that he didn’t even notice you walking inside his room, made the viewers go crazy. He was too concentrated, trying to win this game that he didn’t even look into the camera, nor did he read the comments of his viewers who were all telling him that you were standing right behind him. You found it quite hilarious reading through all the things they were saying and Lando not even noticing it, so you came up with something. You put your finger up to your mouth, trying to show the fans that they should keep quiet, a mischievous smile making its way onto your lips. You quietly made your way over to him, standing right behind him as you suddenly put your hands on his shoulders. Lando couldn’t help but scream as he shot up from his seat, his headphones falling off his head as he turned around and looked at you in horror. You on the other hand were laughing so hard, his facial expression was just too funny not to laugh at this moment even though you knew it wasn’t nice to scare him like that.

“Oh, YN.”, your boyfriend whined as he tried to control his breathing as well as his heartbeat. You tried your hardest not to laugh anymore but you just couldn’t help it, it was just too funny. “You should’ve seen your face. Oh wait, you can, it was all on stream.”, you said, still giggling lightly as you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t scare me like that.”, he said, looking down at you as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry. It was just too tempting. You were so concentrated that you didn’t even notice me or the viewers telling you about me.”, you said, pointing at his gaming set-up where all the people who were watching his stream were going crazy about your interaction. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back.”, he said, kissing your lips lightly before he sat back down again. “Okay, guys. I need a little break now and the game is ruined anyway. I’ll see you all soon. Bye.”, he said, ending his stream, shaking his head lightly as he thought about what just happened. “You embarrassed me in front of all these people, babe.”, he said, pouting slightly. You slowly made your way over to him, sitting down on his lap while you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m sorry but like I said it was just too tempting. Can you forgive me?”, you asked him, feeling his arms wrap around you as well. “Only this time because you did it for the first time but do it again and I’ll get you back.”, he said, making you laugh lightly as you nodded your head. “Fine.”, you said, cuddling up to him more as you felt him kiss your head softly.

Tags: @footballerimaginess @champagne-coys @footballxwrites @donkeykai @ana-maa @landhoe

#Lando Norris #Lando Norris imagine #Lando Norris blurb #F1 imagines #F1 blurbs

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aquaticalay · 5 years ago

Text

Siren .Chapter Three.

Bucky Barnes x Sonic Screaming!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes fancies you, a singer who performs at a local bar every Monday and Friday night. After a few months of attending your gigs, Bucky finally got the chance to talk to you. One problem: you are New York's sonic screaming vigilante. And the avengers have been trying to figure out who you are for months. (Post-Endgame)

Warning/s for this chapter : cursing lol, mentions of violence

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, eventual smut (which you can skip)

Word count: 1800+

Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel characters.

Note: I'm uploading on mobile for the third time, still won't show up in the tags. Help

I will post a new chapter every two days. Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!

"This person did what?" Sam asked, making sure if he heard Bucky correctly. The two of them were in the Avengers meeting room the next morning.

"Screamed," He confirmed. "And it was inhuman. Even I hurt all over."

Sam studied the gun he brought back, then looked back at Bucky, an interrogative look on his face.

"What?" Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, "You don't believe me? Well–"

"Oh, I believe you," Sam said blankly, "In the last three months, there have been five reports on a high pitched noise. In the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and Newark. The fifth was from Harlem last night, your encounter," Sam breathed, "I have been looking into it alone. I thought it was some sort of device. I… didn't even think it might be a person."

Bucky's finger anxiously tapped on the table. He hadn't seen who the person was. The hood she was wearing had given the person the features of a shadow— it's like they weren't even real. It was ghostly, the way they disappeared.

"If you find this… Siren, tell me. I want to be the one to find them," Bucky demanded, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

You were the first to wake up. Still in the apartment, you noticed everyone around you was a mess, sleeping and snoring like college kids after a long night of partying. Vince and Luna stayed up until four, both of them in a state of panic. They were worried about getting caught, even after Lando reassured them that it was incredibly hard to track you, thanks to the layers and layers of security that he has set for your online presence. Lando fell asleep on the computer desk, after a long night of fortifying the security.

You decided to leave them a note saying that you were going home. You changed into a white shirt and sweatpants, stuffing all your things in a duffel bag.

You took the subway to Manhattan, where your apartment was.

Your home was not small— not at all.

It was a penthouse in the center of Manhattan, but some sort of guilt always haunted you when you step in. The penthouse wasn't yours, not really. You inherited it from your father, who was allegedly killed after he created you.

You've always loved to sing, ever since you were a child. Three years ago, a desperate ex-KGB spy, who has descended into madness, held you hostage in exchange for your father's money. When he found out your father has secretly contacted the police, he slit your throat, then commited suicide by stabbing himself.

They were able to salvage your life, but your vocal cords has been badly damaged, and every doctor you met told you the damage was beyond repair. You couldn't even talk, let alone sing.

Your father one of the four founders of Viseur Corps, a scientific research corporation. The other three owners were parents of Vince, Luna, and Lando.

Your father urged a bioengineering project to fix your vocal cords called project 'vox.' After a year of extensive surgeries, you could finally speak again.

The side effect, however, was unexpected.

A small miscalculation allowed your vocal cords to vibrate at the speed of sound itself, sometimes even faster.

A week after, all four scientists were found dead, cyanide poison in their systems, and the bioactive particles and chemical radiation used to restore your vocal cords has been stolen. Thankfully, without a proper application method, the sonic characteristics of the vocal cords were hard to replicate. Hard, but not impossible.

The killer has never been found. Two years later, the sonic formula finally popped up in your radar. If you got the formula, you could stop anyone else from weaponizing the vox formula, and you could finally track the murderer.

You laid down on the couch, feeling utterly useless. You've got a gig to play a day after tomorrow, you could get some well-needed rest today. One problem: you could not rest. Not mentally. The burden of being somewhat responsible for your own father’s death, and your inability to catch the murderer so far has urged you to do more physical activities. Running, swimming, anything to get your mind off the stress. It has been an effective way to deal with negative energy.

You took a shower, and decided to go for a jog. You had your earphones embedded in into your earlobes, shielding you from any conversation attempt. It was a nice day. The sun was not too bright, the wind was not too hard. In the middle of your run, the music stopped. The tune changed into your ringtone, and you slowed down to look at your phone. It was Lando.

You stopped running altogether and started walking as you answered the call.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“(Y/n),” he said over the line. You could tell he was tired, “Got home safe?”

"Yeah," you told him shortly, "What's up?"

"You're on the news," he told you urgently, "well, not you. The other guy. You know, your alter ego.."

"Shit," you whispered, "How bad is it?"

"It's the headline on every news channel," he said worriedly.

As you were approaching a cafè, you did not hesitate to go in. You saw a TV in the corner, and sure enough, there was footage of your confrontation with James Barnes on the screen.

'The Avengers has started a nationwide manhunt for what they call 'The Siren,' said a reporter.

"(Y/n)?" Lando said through the phone. You were struck, you forgot you were still on the phone.

You snapped back to life, "I'll call you back."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned off the call.

You were in the middle of the cafè staring at the TV.

So yeah, some people were already looking at you funny.

When you noticed, you decided to get coffee. It would be weird just to burst in, stare at the TV, and just leave. You ordered a latte and took a seat, where you had a good view of the screen.

You listened intently, taking a good sip of your coffee.

They were describing what they could about your physical features, but with your suit on, the description weren't very accurate.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you froze.

"I didn't expect to see you here," said James Barnes. He was wearing a dark denim jacket and jeans, but he was missing his gloves and sunglasses.

He wasn't in 'disguise.’ He wasn’t trying to hide his identity, unlike last night.

Some people looked at him and whispered in awe that there was an avenger in the room, but no one really said anything. He still had his metal arm in his pocket, but it was probably more of a habit than a conscious act.

"Hi," you managed to give a smile. He ran his human fingers through his brown locks of hair nervously, "Do you mind if I…" he pointed to the empty seat in front of you. You tried your best not to panic, "Go ahead."

He sat, a paper cup of coffee on his hand.

Your heart was beating fast, thumping out of your chest. What if he found out it was you? What if he knew? What if he was here to confront your identity as the so-called 'Siren' the news has been talking about?

"Busy day, huh?" You said without thinking, tilting your chin towards the TV.

"Oh, right," Barnes said, pleasantly surprised that you knew who he was.

You had to hold back a sigh of relief. He didn't know it was you. You had to make sure it stayed that way.

"Yeah, I didn't recognize you last night, James," you forced a smile, but it came out sincere, "probably because of the sunglasses, and it was dark, too."

"I don't blame you," he let out a hearty laugh, "and please, call me Bucky."

"Well, Bucky," you said, and you have to admit your mouth liked the sound of his name, "what brings you here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I come here every once in a while. Best coffee in all of New York," He sipped his coffee again, "and you?"

"Just passing by," you told him. In your defense, it was the truth, to some degree.

"I've been meaning to tell you," he said, and you could've sworn his cheeks turned a slightly redder shade, "you have a great voice."

"Thanks," you chuckled, and this time, you didn't need to fake it, "I try."

"No, really," he insisted, "and your performance was incredible. How long have you been doing this?"

Somehow, this was the beginning of a long chat, way longer than you expected. You were trapped in a three-hour long conversation with the charming man. Little by little, your worries fade away until it completely disappeared. You started enjoying his presence, laughing at his childhood stories as well as telling your own.

Before you knew it, it was four in the afternoon.

"I probably need to get back," he said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. He masked it quickly with a curve on his lips.

"Oh," you said, followed with a smile, "See you around?" You asked with uncertainty.

"I hope so," he gave you a smile and walked out the cafè. You watched him go through the window, where he gave you one last small adorable wave. You found yourself giggling, waving back.

When he was nowhere out of sight, you noticed a scribble on your napkin. It was Bucky's number, followed with an old fashioned handwriting. 'Text me?'

You did not text him right away. You found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment, frustrated. You had a good time. Such a great time, in fact, that you forgot he was in the middle of hunting you down.

Was it a smart move? You tried to convince yourself that it was a good idea. That this could be one one of those 'hiding in plain sight' tactics. He would never suspect someone he knew, right?

You flopped down on the couch, and grabbed your phone. You already saved his number. All you needed to do was type out the words.

'Hey, James. This is (Y/n). Got your number :)'

You hit send, telling yourself again and again that this was a good idea. It probably wasn't, but you only told yourself what you wanted to hear.

"You seem happy," Sam teased, raising eyebrows at Bucky, who just entered the room. Bucky shrugged, "Maybe I want to be happy."

"Whoa, what?" Sam said. Was this Bucky? Sam wondered, The same anti-social Bucky who only drank black coffee and only expressed his true emotions once in a blue moon?

"What's going on, man?" Sam urged, grinning at his friend's joy, which radiated in his smile.

"You know that bar I've been going to?" Bucky asked. Sam nodded, "The Mermaid- something? Didn't you say you've been crushing on a singer there for months?"

Bucky nodded, "I met her at a cafe," he beamed, "I spent some time getting to know her."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Sam jokingly exclaimed, "Old man Barnes is back it the game, folks!"

Bucky chuckled, hoping to get a notification sometime soon.

A few hours later, his phone gave off a little noise. For the first time in a long time, he couldn't stop smiling.

@thejourneyneverendsx @ispepeagain @magykal-777 @sfxsucker @moli1497 @justanothergirlwithdemons @ciochesono @allonszassbutt @hennessy0274-blog @chubby-dumplin @talk-geek-to-me @sebastian-i-stan @iwishthatiwasbuckysgirl @thelureabove @womanontheedgeofnothing @snugglemedaddy @perrythefrickinplatypus @missursulacalmet @angryknightstatesmantrash

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f1chronicle · 4 years ago

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Dear Mr. Mark Webber- Max Verstappen Doesn’t Have To Be Lewis Hamilton!

Does Max Verstappen have to be Lewis Hamilton? What a random statement, right? The way it seems, Mark Webber is popular as Aussie Grit. It’s a sobriquet he earned, never asked for. When the famous driver from Queanbeyan was an active FORMULA 1 driver, there was one thing that did set him apart from the rest, not to mention, that ability to focus on the race and just race alone.

He’d talk less and perform more on the grid. But, hey wait! Did that make Mark Webber a world champion?

Hardly.

Despite competing in the highest annals of Motor Racing for over a decade driving for no fewer than six consecutive seasons with Red Bull, the former FORMULA 1 driver didn’t exactly come agonisingly close- or did he- to a world title.

Well, unless one’s determined to count his 242 points (with Red Bull) in 2011 to that seaon’s world champion Vettel’s 256 (also with Red Bull) an incredibly close margin- but would you?

Yet, Webber- nine wins, make no mistake- has made a headline recently, one that seems to offer a glimpse at what becomes of former FORMULA 1 drivers when they are either too idle or not in the tune with reality.

Has Mark Webber caused me harm. Heck, no! He surely has better things to do in life such as exchanging pleasantries with the Australian Men’s cricket team’s coach Justin Langer about Martial Arts.

Both Aussies, it’s common knowledge, are gifted in the same incredible art where Jean Claude Van Damme has made some very retired movies (with all due respect to the great Muscles from Brussels).

But Mr. Webber when you say that a Max Verstappen and I quote you here, “Is he (Verstappen) already Lewis on Sunday? No, he is not,” what do you even mean?

This precisely leads me to a question whose time has come, if only after 250 words:

Does Max Verstappen have to be Lewis Hamilton?

If so, what’s Lewis Hamilton doing then? Imagine what good grief might two Lewis Hamilton’s cause the very grid where tackling one is hard enough? In 2020 alone, Hamilton won ten races.

Surely, you didn’t mean Max to become Lewis, but obviously, right? On the contrary, you were actually alluding to the lack of consistency shown by Max Verstappen- the youngest pole-sitter aged 17 years, 166 days- when compared to Lewis Hamilton.

Fair enough.

But ever wondered about that thing called race-craft, sir? Does that not carry the DNA of one’s psyche or that thing called mental make-up?

Truth be told, the moment I’d say “we are all different and hence our different levels of performances,” you’d either go off to sleep or slap me. Wait actually, you’d reserve that for ‘Ubermensch’ Seb (Malaysia, 2013).

Such a cliche!

But it doesn’t require one Einstein-esque grey matter to note that no FORMULA 1 driver is the same. On race day, things happen. It’s a combination of various factors- but obviously- one of which is the way a driver competes, rather to put it succinctly, “attacks!”

Your suggestion that Max Verstappen is not on the same level as Lewis Hamilton, a seven time world champion, a driver twelve years his senior isn’t bigoted but is incredibly lame.

For starters, Lewis Hamilton has no match.

The only one who came close to Lewis Hamilton is the driver whom record Stevenage’s great son recently drew level with. In Germany, they consider him Das Beste or the best, everywhere else, he’s still considered the King!

Purely on race entries, Hamilton’s beaten more drivers than Max Verstappen has probably competed online with. And trust me, I have no idea whether Lando’s done more E racing or Charles.

Truth still is, the comparison that you ended up making- albeit only when asked- reads:

Lewis Hamilton: 266 race entries, 95 wins, 98 poles, 165 podiums, Seven World Titles

Max Verstappen: 119 entries, 10 wins, 42 podiums, 0 world titles.

The above includes nothing on these driver’s personalities, that important arsenal that ultimately plays a key role in winning and losing races.

Should you wish this Motorsport fan recount it for you, this remember is someone who’s been as many times inside an F1 car as you’ve won world titles, I’d love to draw your attention to:

Hamilton– focused, aggressive but doesn’t lose his sh*t, mighty consistent, ability to mentally seize up the opponent (we’ve seen Rosberg, we are seeing how hard it is for Valtteri), aware of the advantages of the car and what his own experience brings.

Verstappen– resilient, rabid, super aggressive, consistent in quali (by your admission), aware of his talent and the fact that the machinery he’s been aligned with isn’t the same level as Mercedes.

That said, fair to remember when Lewis Hamilton entered the sport, Max Verstappen was ten.

Today, thirteen years since Lewis first unfurled ‘Hammertime’ by winning the 2007 Canadian Grand Prix, he’s found a competitor, who is, at least, trying to muster up a fight. Did Verstappen not win the final race of the year from pole, in the process of which he led every single lap?

And make no mistake Mr. Webber, this is what a certain Charles Leclerc was doing too in 2019: competing and pushing Lewis.

Fact is, if you got to beat Lewis Hamilton in his own game- and heck, he’s nearly owned FORMULA 1 by demonstrating mesmeric consistency- you’ll need not just the car but the experience and not to mention, the mind-set.

And that’s the key differentiator for me.

We are all hardwired differently which is why we respond to challenges differently.

2019 German Grand Prix, Sunday – Max Verstappen (image courtesy Red Bull Racing)

Hamilton is spurred by the innate desire to improve and get better each time he gets inside that car. It’s not that he’s not faced heat or been found wanting. But see how he reacts even when the odds go against his favour.

The 70th Anniversary Grand Prix- won by Verstappen eventually- saw Hamilton winning on three wheels. Did you see that?

That’s all it takes- not losing your composure and finding that positivity somehow. And speaking of not losing one’s cool, there’s also a certain Kimi Matias Raikkonen who kept his whilst many beside him were losing theirs at the Abu Dhabi GP 2012. You were in that race right sir?

Now Max Verstappen, on the other hand, responds differently to situations. In a seemingly Senna-esque fashion: be bold, brave and go for the chance if it’s there- Max takes his chance.

Call it age, call it irrational exuberance, but Max won’t relent. Just like he didn’t at the Turkish GP knowing well that pushing extra hard on getting past Bottas would compromise his tyres and see the outcome?

As a matter of fact, did Charles- vastly respected already- not push a bit too aggressively at Monza 2019? Who are the black and white flags waved for back when a young man beat Hamilton in his own game?

Max Verstappen or Charles Leclerc?

So my problem with drivers like you sir and no you haven’t borrowed a dime from me, in fact, I keenly await my salary for the month is this:

Why is Max Verstappen being compared to Hamilton when there’s little need?

Surely Albon’s priceless podiums in 2020 were brilliant news for a team that put its faith in a driver who isn’t considered all too great at the moment. But, who kept Red Bull in the fight?

Incidentally, who beat Valtteri Bottas driving a Red Bull when the Finn, usually hired to win, as they say (not that Raikkonen would care) was in a Mercedes?

We know how this has panned out in the past too whenever the subject of being in the same league as Lewis has arrived.

Nico- Brittany to some, world champion to many others- was the last guy to defeat the incredible Briton. But which other FORMULA 1 loose wheel nut has managed to keep his sanity in check ever since Nico packed his bags and left?

If Max is not on the same level as Hamilton- then so is every other driver who has the capability and perhaps competent machinery, if not the greatest package designed ever to overcome a Mercedes.

This year alone, there were more cars that nearly matched the RB 16- Racing Point’s RP 20 (second-hand Mercedes, shall we?), the MCL 35, and the RS 20 (or shall one say, the cause of Cyril Abiteboul’s possible upcoming tattoo)- than there are wins in your entire career.

That you don’t get it probably explains why you are making strange headlines nowadays unlike the fine stint with the FIA World Endurance Championship.

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#Formula 1 news

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myevilmouse · 5 years ago

Text

In Defense of The Rise of Skywalker

Or...how I learned to stop hating and enjoy a movie

Spoilers and random thoughts below the cut.

I hate the abomination that was/is The Last Jedi. Let’s get that out of the way. I’ve already explained the hundreds of reasons why, the biggest and most unforgivable being the character assassination of Luke “I call him Jake” Skywalker and the invalidation of every victory of the OT. I resent this making people lump me into a “gatekeeper” sect, or accuse me of racism (Rose was annoying and ruined Finn’s heroism, jeopardizing hundreds of lives for her own selfish reasons without building up a convincing romance and blah blah etc). It has nothing to do with her gender, race, or anything. It has to do with poor character development and inconsistent motivations/messages.

I’m also not a huge fan of The Force Awakens, mainly for its lack of originality and the treatment of Han/Leia, but otherwise I thought it was OK. I liked Finn, wanted him to become a Jedi, found Poe to be a worthy heir to our antihero mold. Rey left me indifferent and Kylo Ren was a temper-tantrum throwing teenager, but anyway...

Let’s keep that as background/context and not get bogged down.

Since they announced the title of this movie, I have been livid with rage. How dare they use my man’s name to sell their disgusting imitation of a beloved universe? I was certain, ever since it was announced, that Rey would take Luke’s surname, despite having treated him so horribly in TLJ, despite having done nothing to earn it, despite having spent far more time with Leia, so if anything a Solo/Organa family name would make more sense. It was just to sell tickets and I was furious.

I read all the spoilers. Worst fears: confirmed. I looked at leaked photos. I raged over the inanity of the plot and the sad conclusion to the Skywalker Saga, which in my mind will always end with ROTJ.

Still, I love Mark Hamill, and I decided to treat this film as a MH film. The completist in me required theatrical viewing. Rare to get our man in a cinematic release. So I went, ready to hate watch, prepared to dull the bitterness and betrayal with wine.

But….JJ Abrams directed a fix it fic. And it’s good. This film not just address the real injustices and horrible story decisions of TLJ, but also addresses some of the major problems of TFA too.

I tried to go in with an open mind, but obviously I had many preconceived notions, and already knew almost every single story point and character beat. I was ready to roll around in my hate and slam the abomination. I want to emphasize that I am one of those people that was COMPLETELY prepared to hate EVERYTHING about this.

There are flaws.

But there is so much that is great.

I really really liked it.

No one is more shocked than I at my own reaction. I was ready/willing/wanting/primed to hate everything about this. Please keep that in mind. Hahah and no one is paying me to write this post 😉

I decided to write this because I also read all the negative critical reviews online from the pro critics yelling FAN SERVICE. And I’m like…damn straight? Ever since George Lucas made Han shoot second, fandom has understood that we understand this franchise better than film executives. We aren’t concerned with adding an extra dewback or improving special effects. We love these films the way we first experienced them, and they cannot and should not be “improved” to the ultimate detriment of the brand.

I’m here to tell you that the critics are not being fair. The spoilers on reddit were true, but the movie works. Let’s accept, before we go further, that Abrams couldn’t entirely rewrite the mess that he stepped into/helped create. So I can’t defend the fact that Finn isn’t a Jedi yet or the mess that is the new Rebellion/failure of the old. I, like many fans, wish we had been given a different/better story from the beginning. Sadly, we were not.

That is something we don’t have to accept (I certainly don’t consider these films “canon” in my mind—Mara Jade forever!) but let’s approach this film in the spirit it seems to be intended: An attempt to address the very valid criticisms loudly voiced about the others in the trilogy, with the caveat that we are stuck with TFA and TLJ no matter how much we hate them.

First, the music is amazing, as we all knew it would be. The acting is stellar.

Some of the things Abrams “fixed:”

“Rey is perfect/Mary Sue/good at everything”. There is a conscious effort in this film to show her training, with Leia as her Master. There is a good scene foreshadowing her final struggle, where she strains to hear the voices of Jedi past and fails. There are several signs that she is not a Jedi yet, including how Palpatine talks about her, and perhaps my favorite, when she tells Leia she hasn’t earned Luke’s lightsaber.

Me: Damn straight you haven’t.

And Leia AGREES, keeping Luke’s weapon because Rey isn’t ready for it. She’s still learning.

Further proof of her non-Jedi status, when Rey is killed, she doesn’t join the Force. She is a corpse. On the other hand, Ben Solo, once redeemed, disappears as we would expect a good Jedi to do. A clear distinction between the two of them.

And speaking of Leia:

Leia’s character: TFA and TLJ Leia is weak and sends other people to fight, whereas our brave Princess from the OT is volunteering for suicide missions, grabbing weapons from the hands of her rescuers, and running into danger for a good cause. It always bothered me that she didn’t go after Kylo herself (or with Han). In this, we see her as a Jedi Master, training Rey, with her own lightsaber. Leia is once more a badass, true to her character. A legitimate Jedi who also joins the Force (although not sure why it took her so long post-mortem, that was weird).

Luke’s character: Hello, I am A LUKE FANATIC. The biggest sin of TFA and especially TLJ was this idea of Luke hiding out and becoming the disgusting, pessimistic coward he was shown to be. Abrams ignores this pretty much entirely, starting with the revelation that Luke was actually going on missions with Lando to hunt for a Sith artifact to help the Rebellion. Luke kept notes, he was busy and ACTIVE. He wasn’t giving up; he was leaving a trail to help anyone who followed. The best ‘fuck you’ in the whole movie was Luke catching Anakin’s lightsaber when Rey throws it away. The ultimate rejection of his TLJ characterization.

Luke’s conversation with Rey echoes very much the ROTJ “you must confront Vader” conversation. There are many echoes of ROTJ but given the restrictions on what we are working with, I accepted this parallel. Much like Luke had to face his unfortunate inheritance, so must Rey. It’s not terribly original, but these films aren’t.

I also loved the simple line “I was wrong” when Rey asks why he did what he did in TLJ. This to me is simply “Rian Johnson was wrong/The Last Jedi was wrong.” There is no excuse that is acceptable, but this is a filmmaker acknowledging an injustice, and I appreciated it. (Did I mention these films are not canon for me? They aren’t, just giving credit for this attempt.)

Han’s character: I hated SO MUCH how they turned Han into a failure in TFA. A buffoon, not even a good smuggler anymore, a failure as a father, a husband. When I heard he was going to be in this I was like HUH? But this “memory” of his father that Kylo Ren sees after Rey heals him and departs, after he’s lost his mother, is another attempt to redeem the injustice to Han’s character. Han is the one in the movie who brings Kylo Ren back to the Light, not Rey. It is a very short scene, but effective. The acting is poignant, with the “Dad” working for me. Maybe I’m a softie. But I appreciated this brief proof that Han Solo, in the end, didn’t suck as a father, and ultimately, even as a hallucination, inspired the love that saved his son.

Chewbacca got a medal: I said Abrams was fixing things in the sequels, but I admit I was choked up to see this fixit from A New Hope. Finally Chewie gets the medal he is LONG overdue.

Team dynamic with the new characters: Finally we understand why these people care about each other. They go on shared adventures, they have banter (and some good jokes, not the stupid bathos of TLJ), and there is finally some sense of camaraderie that was discarded in TLJ. There are several references to Rey’s “new family,” clearly referring to this band of Rebels, and it was far more compelling than in earlier films.

Finn’s Force Sensitivity: I, like many, desperately wanted Finn to be a Jedi. Since TFA, it seemed inevitable! I loved how he used the lightsaber, how he seemed to have Force abilities (that were never really explored). TLJ ignored that potential completely, sidelining him on that stupid Canto Bight quest and pulling him away from Rey. There are so many signs that he is destined to be a Jedi in this film, I was thrilled to see them. Knowing things without explanation, doing amazing things, sensing things, trusting his feelings, it’s another ‘fuck you’ in my opinion, to RJ for ignoring this former stormtrooper’s destiny in favor of overblown set pieces and pointless CGI theatrics. When he says, towards the end “I can feel it,” I wanted to fist pump. YOU GO BE A JEDI FINN! THE FORCE IS WITH YOU. Personally, I would have loved for Finn to be the main protagonist of all three films, but I appreciate us getting what we got, since we can’t get what we want.

Stuff that worked:

The Wedge cameo: Yeah.

Lando: Wonderful. His dialogue, especially at the beginning, does a lot to fix our view of Luke.

Kylo’s redemption: See above re: Han. I’ve seen a lot of criticism about the kiss. I get the whole “female character’s purpose is to validate the evolution of the male” criticism, but I want to point out a couple things about this. First of all, it’s not a “Reylo” kiss. Kylo is gone. This is well after Kylo is redeemed. He’s been of the Light for a while before this, it’s clearly Ben at this point. It’s also obvious Rey knows that, and like Luke forgave Vader for his abuse, she forgives Ben Solo for his. So I understand also the criticism that is making people puke about Rey kissing her abuser, but again, Luke sheds tears for the father he loves, who maimed and traumatized him. Star Wars is about redemption and forgiveness that accompanies it, and I don’t have the same issue with this. If she kissed KYLO without him being redeemed before he died, for example, I would be disgusted. This is not that.

The cinematography/pacing/story: So many critics and the spoilers made it sound like this was a convoluted mess. I went to see it with a non-native English speaker and neither of us had any trouble following the plot. Yeah, a lot happens, but it all is linear and consistent within the film.

The humor/dialogue: Felt way more Star Wars-y and better placed than the last two films.

The Jedi Helping Rey: As much as I thought I would hate this, it was really well done, largely, I think, due to the foreshadowing during her earlier training. When Palpatine says all the Sith live in him and we know what she’s gonna say but it still works SO WELL. I was rooting for her and I’ve never been a huge fan. But at that climactic moment, I was a believer.

Major flaws

Of course there are some. For me the most major:

A Jedi Strikes Not In Anger: In every single lightsaber battle (pretty sure, I only saw the film once), Rey is the first to strike. She always seems to be fighting from anger and with negative emotion. This is not at all Jedi-esque and I found it particularly jarring in her duels with Kylo Ren. This bothered me more than almost anything else in the film because it is never addressed. She fights ANGRY and she fights FEARFUL and then somehow when she’s supposed to strike down Palpatine, she has it in her to resist. This, above all else, makes me not like her as the “heir to the Jedi”. I thought it was a real problem, and makes her ultimate evolution at the finale less convincing.

Rey Skywalker: I get why they did it, but I stand by my earlier thoughts regarding taking the Solo or Organa name. I have nothing against adopted families. And I found it SLIGHTLY more palpable because since the Emperor refers to Ben as “the last Skywalker” and then since he transfers his entire life force into her, you can argue that she has “Skywalker” literally in her spirit now. OK fine. But I still don’t really think she earned it. She came CLOSER than I thought she would and I didn’t ultimately want to burn down the cinema as I expected I would want to.

Force Resurrection: No. Just no. This changes so much and makes so much of the earlier films moot. Why wouldn’t Anakin just resurrect Padme? Don’t get me started.

Other random new Force things: Like Force Ghosts touching shit. Yeah I know Obi Wan sat on the tree in Dagobah, I know, but we keep learning new and more powerful Force shit each film. Teleportation of objects (that lightsaber?!), astral projection, rapid healing, and now playing catch with your ghost friends. I get they are important to the story but it feels lazy. But my exception here was Luke catching the saber because FUCK YOU RJ. 😊

Redemption=Death: I wanted Kylo Ren to die for his sins too, but I recognize this strange thing we have going on in the GFFA that if a baddie goes good they die. It’s the equivalent of the horror movie “fuck and the killer gets you” trope. I didn’t necessarily mind Ben dying, but it seemed … lazy.

The final shot: It was a mistake to even touch this iconic moment. It wasn’t earned. Make your own legend/iconic moment and leave my farmboy his.

Something no one can fix: The sucky destinies of Luke Jake, Han, and Leia. They didn’t live happy lives, they didn’t see the end of tyranny, they all died with only the hope of success. I will never forgive the attempted destruction of the legacy of the OT (attempted cause it’s still how it all ends in my world), this disregard of the triumph of the Rebellion over the Empire, and I will never believe that the New Republic failed so completely and miserably. Bring on the EU/Legends and forget this shit.

Final thought: I went to this expecting the cinematic equivalent of a back alley abortion and instead I got what felt like an apology. An entertaining and polished and sincere apology. We deserved better, and I think the people who made this film realized that and did their best. TROS had to wrap up something that was divisive and imperfect and misguided, and tried as hard as it could, in my opinion, given what they were working with.

It was a good movie. Ambitious, with flaws, but I am glad I saw it, and I hope you will be too. <3 May the Force be with you.

#tros spoilers #the rise of skywalker spoilers #ix spoilers #my thoughts

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roxannepolice · 6 years ago

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Dark side of the simulacra

Simulacra and precession of simulacra are one of the concepts explaining postmodernity, one created by Jean Baudrillard. I’m about to elaborate on what he understands by these terms, but for the less engaged among you, here’s the shortest definition ever:

Death Star is a simulacrum and StarKiller Base is a preceeding simulacrum. Or so they are in the eyes of general audience.

Ok, now for more elaboration. Simulacrum is basically a symbol which lost the connection with its meaning, destroying the meaning itself in the process. It’s in contrast to representation (which equates a meaning with a symbol), as simulation negates the symbol as value. Simulation encapsulates the meaning and the symbol and devours them both, transforming them into the simulacrum. A good comparison provided by Baudrillard is that of what simulation is commonly understood as and what are the result of its abuse. When you simulate a sickness (which is more than just pretending to be sick, to simulate you’ll force yourself to vomit, artificially heighten you temperature, etc.) you make people question if there even is anything like a sickness – because if all the signs can be faked, then how can it be diagnosed?

Baudrillard opens his dissertation by recalling a story about a country of cartographers – their great ambition was to create a map of their country which would be as accurate as possible. And so they would make it more and more accurate until finally they created a 1 to 1 map, basically a huge coloured blanket which covered their entire country. And if that sounds like apparent creative process behind The Force Awakens – then yeah, it should. I’ll say more, it’s the next generation of that cartographer country taking a satellite photo of that 1 to 1 map and covering that map with their satellite map.

Because Baudrillard presents four stages of relationship between a meaning a simulacrum:

a meaning, an idea (say, and idea of destruction, aggression)

an idea receives a tangible body (nuclear weapons. I mean the real ones.)

tangible reality receives abstract symbols, which don’t lose touch with the meaning – that’s the level of representation (Death Star. it’s overblown, it’s fictional but it represents a fear of a weapon capable of destroying entire planet, a fear very real during the cold war)

abstract symbols give birth to new abstract symbols, which may make an impression of being more real than the actual idea (StarKiller. Death Star only BIGGERRRRRRR, so more EVIL than the Death Star) – and this is also the point at which that symbol of a symbol may destroy its own meaning, become the exact opposite of itself (obviously both Death Star and SKB are negative symbols of aggression and how many people here on the hellsite met with very real aggression over a very not real StarKiller?)

Now, to the average viewer, that’s how TFA came to be. Take A New Hope and repeat it. Maybe make everything more – make Rey more abandoned than Luke, BB-8 cuter than R2-D2, StarKiller bigger than Death Star, Hux more skinny than Tarkin, First Order more nazi than Empire, Resistance more heroic than Rebels and Kylo Ren more evil than Darth Vader, underlined by giving him an even more evil looking lightsaber. Oh, and give Luke a more Jesus like hair than Obi-Wan had.

To fake. To dream. Perchance to watch The Last Jedi and throw a tantrum because what the hell is this?

Yes, TLJ destroyed every illusion that the sequels will be simply an originals’ simulacrum. Resident Vader didn’t get redeemed when he killed the resident Palpatine, Luke didn’t happily jump back into action like Obi-Wan, a heroic Rouge One like disobedience got people pointlessly killed, apparent neutral good Lando was a actually a selfish junk and celibate-to-be orphan looking for her parents actually knew all along her parents were dead garbage and, wait, wants a D? An evil D at that? PREPOSTEROUS, that’s against everything Star Wars is.

Well, thank the force we got such reactions. Because it shows the symbol needs to be reattached to its meaning before it gets devoured by simulation, which is exactly what I believe the sequels are here to do. Now, as I confess I didn’t recognize in 2015 but the fine people on this site have shown me, there were obvious clues this was not going to go the way we think already in TFA, but, well, they require a moment’s thought. On the most obvious symbolic level – the StarKiller didn’t simply get blown up like Death Star only once the shell fell off, a sun was reborn. Anyway, enjoy.

Devil wears Boss or how to make nazis even more nazi

Trigger warning: I go unpleasant places in this paragraph relating to WW II and nazism, up to the point of actually quoting nazi agenda, but if you want to reattach a meaning with a simulacrum sometimes you have to go to unpleasant places. That being said, if it is upsetting to you, please stop here.

Arite, how many people here have been called literal nazi supporters for rooting for Kylo Ben’s redemption?

How many for rejoicing over Darth Anakin’s redemption?

Yeah. First Order is even more nazi than the Empire. Their weapon is more destructive, Hux is more Hitler, cinematography is more Riefenstahl, oh, and look, the protagonists are a woman and a POC, in case there was any question of power imbalance represented. Well, clearly, First Order are literal neo nazis, right?

Hold your horses. LITERAL definition of neonazism from online Collins dictionary: a modern extreme right-wing political movement and ideology based on a resurgence of support for Nazi ideological principles. Ok... So, Nazism? Nazi Party, byname of National Socialist German Workers’ Party, German Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (NSDAP), political party of the mass movement known as National Socialism. Under the leadership of Adolf Hitler, the party came to power in Germany in 1933 and governed by totalitarian methods until 1945. I can’t see anything literal here to be applied to the GFFA, especially if Star Wars happen a long time ago. Mean question, but how many woken tumblrers knew there’s “socialist” in NSDAP?

I could rest my case here. But of course, what we do mean by “literal” Nazism is racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia, cult of a leader, cult of power, belief in god given superiority... And to be fair, oversticking to historical circumstances may be just as harmful as overabstracting the subject, as I’m about to point out. But there’s still nothing “literal” in a sequel to kids’ movie.

That’s simulation at its finest. Symbols, appearances of imperialist ideologies have become completely detached from how they actually functioned historically – and themselves became a reason to send racist anons over a space opera. Now, I have a misfortune of living in a country where far right is doing well right now and if you think those guys are listening to Wagner, you’re badly mistaken. Of course, they won’t call themselves neonazis, because Nazism is a thing exclusive to Germans and European Union is heir apparent to Third Reich. And abortion is a nazi practice. And Hitler was a vegetarian, so vegetarians are evil. That’s what they actually say you know. But hatred towards people of other ethnicities and religions? Yes, very much there. Including suggestions of “final solutions”, albeit mostly in online discussions. Oh, and guess what, they can watch Star Wars and understand that they are supposed to be FO. Conclusion? Hollywood-jewish agenda. Believe me, showing the FO members die in agony won’t make actual neonazis rethink their ways. They’re romantic heroes on a quest against a globalist empire, strike them down and they’ll become more powerful.

The First Order aren’t literal neonazis. They are neo-frequent-villains-in-video-games-nazis. I would actually argue that the parallel to Nazism in Star Wars only became clear when we saw how Palpatine came to power – in thunderous applause of democratic rules, just like Hitler and it should above all warn us of the pitfalls awaiting a system as good as democracy. Making Rae Sloane, a co-creator of the first order a bisexual WOC was a conscious step at detaching FO from what the nazi party historically was. The original imperials are closer to a more abstract totalitarian system and imperial ideology, thus being more of a critique of generally understood western world in the 70s, finding its peak in Vietnam War. Interestingly, one of the movies which inspired Lucas while making ANH was Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers, where “the Empire” would be... France. Somehow I don’t see Renperor being compared to de Gaulle.

Ah, but that’s not so simple. If we want to dig deeper, beyond the level of tangible history and into the world of ideas, then FO is indeed symbolic of Nazism understood as aggression, thoughtless hatred, war, will to destroy all opposition, army as a totalitarian subsystem, suspension of human rights, antiparliamentarism. That’s nothing good and historical circumstances have nothing to do with it. And Disney-LF brings this point home. Depiction of violence in the sequels is much more realistic than in the originals.

Mind probe, in the originals shown as an evil looking syringe and Vader with Leia behind closed doors (no screams, next time we see her she’s fine), in the sequels is shown as a psychological violation of the worst kind

Death Star shot Alderaan we knew nothing about into smithereens and it was soooo coool and all we saw was Leia’s horror and Obi-Wan’s impression in the force – StarKiller was a slow scene with evil red rays and horror of people on Couruscant, planet we knew well, as they were about to be burned to death

Vader was force choking anonymous imperials to death like nothing short of a comic relief, Kylo choking Hux not to death is unpleasant to watch even if you remember it was Armitage who rooted for using the SKB

Originals’ stormtroopers were faceless cannon fodder, sequels’ have Finn’s face and history of brainwashing.

So, in this sense, FO are indeed metaphorical (because still not literal) neonazis in a very realistic war circumastances of blood, suffering and subjugation. And I have no doubt that as a collective there’s nothing good in store for them in this trilogy.

But.

Allow me to quote the “best” expert on Nazism there’s ever been (yes, I’m using Hitler’s quote in tumblr post, I can’t believe it, Star Wars what are you making me do, don’t worry, I’m reaching the end of the political dissertation):

It is part of a great leader’s genius to make even widely separated adversaries appear as if they belonged to but one category, because among weakly and undecided characters the recognition of various enemies all too easily marks the beginning of doubt of one’s own rightness.

Talk about expertise in mass psychology. Take a breath, we’re about to return to the GFFA, but so many people use the nazi argument I feel they need contact with LITERAL nazis.

Consciousness of this technique of manipulating the masses is basically why I believe we’re about to get extremist Resistance and differentiated FO. Because right now we have no doubt of the former’s rightness and no recognition of variety in the latter (except for maybe stormtroopers). Additionally, we have coded them as good and bad guys before TFA’s opening crawl even appeared, courtesy of precession of simulacra, promos and how the good guys and the bad guys looked like in the originals. Sustaining this belief is a LITERAL totalitarian technique. And I believe Disney-LF is already making ground for a massive change, both with big game changers like Galen Erso and Finn, but also on a more everyday level in Solo, with actually surprisingly human imperial official coming up with Han’s surname.

FO are the bad guys because they use offensive violence and have no respect for human rights, not use offensive violence because they are the bad guys. And violence used by the Resistance doesn’t become good because good guys use it – they are the good guys because, so far, they’ve only used it defensively and avoided collateral damage. And when the agenda stops being rebuild the republic and becomes burn the first order down – we have reasons to believe it can change. Dehumanisation of the enemy is the first step to lose your own humanity. No extremists attack not believing it was the only way to achieve a noble higher goal.

To cut the long story short, villainy needs to be reattached to offensive violence and not Hugo Boss uniforms. And at this point, I’m afraid it can only be done by making it equally terrifying when dressed in cool leather jackets.

#star wars #first order #simulacra #armitage hux #kylo ren #tw: nazism #tw: world war ii #tw: abortion #tw: adolf hitler #feel like that should be mentioned

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justandersons · 6 years ago

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PATIENCE PADAWAN || ALEXANDER&BLAINE

Who: Alexander Smythe and Blaine Anderson

When: Friday, August 17th, 2018

Where: Alexander’s Suite

Notes: What was supposed to be Alexander’s first experience of a Blaine-style sleepover turns into the kind he’s more familiar with.

Blaine: Blaine couldn’t help but feel nervous about spending the weekend with Alex. He wasn’t even sure why, because he knew the Master wouldn’t ever make him do something he wasn’t comfortable with. But god, he was so nervous and he hated it. But regardless, he’d packed everything he needed into an overnight bag - clothes, pyjamas, snacks and, of course, movies - and headed to his room. Blaine was excited though, as he wanted to get to know Alex a little better. So he knocked on the Master’s door and got to his knees, as he always did, and waited for him to answer.

Alexander: A sleepover hadn’t been exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d given Blaine orders for the weekend; but the other man had just seemed so excited by the prospect that Alexander found he couldn’t turn him down. A great point to all this was encouraging Blaine to ask for what he wanted and this seemed a close enough to that. He briefly wondered if Blaine would be remotely phased by the fact that his brother lived in the same suite but decided he didn’t care enough to dwell on the thought. Exactly as expected, Blaine arrived promptly and when he opened the door, his smile grew. ‘Good boy.’ he praised, offering him a bright smile. 'You can get on your feet. Come on inside. I’ve been doing some reading online and I’ve made my room as sleepover friendly as possible.’ he explained.

Blaine: The praise immediately had Blaine smiling and he looked up at Alex, nodding and obeying easily. He pushed himself to his feet and entered the suite, surprised at how cosy it looked already. Alex really had done everything he could to make it as comfortable as possible for them, and it warmed his heart. Blaine grinned and turned to him, nudging him playfully. “And you said you were too old for sleepovers, Sir!” He said with a laugh, putting his bag down carefully. “I brought snacks and I’m totally going to change into my pyjamas now. I think you’ll like them!” Blaine opened his bag and pulled them out, grinning at Alex. “See? Star Wars is now our thing!”

Alexander: The smile on his face had made the extra effort worth it. He was about to offer him the guest room but he couldn’t get a word in as Blaine excitedly explained what he’d brought with him. He let out a loud laugh at the reveal of his Star Wars pyjamas. 'Blaine Anderson, you are entirely too adorable.’ he decided, shaking his head with a bright smile on his face. 'I love them.’ he assured him. 'If you want to get changed, you’re welcome to make use of the guest room. I wasn’t sure where you’d want to sleep tonight so it’s really entirely your choice. You can share my bed as long as you don’t steal blankets.’ he teased. 'Make yourself comfortable and then we can pick out a movie.’

Alexander: A sleepover hadn’t been exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d given Blaine orders for the weekend; but the other man had just seemed so excited by the prospect that Alexander found he couldn’t turn him down. A great point to all this was encouraging Blaine to ask for what he wanted and this seemed a close enough to that. He briefly wondered if Blaine would be remotely phased by the fact that his brother lived in the same suite but decided he didn’t care enough to dwell on the thought. Exactly as expected, Blaine arrived promptly and when he opened the door, his smile grew. 'Good boy.’ he praised, offering him a bright smile. 'You can get on your feet. Come on inside. I’ve been doing some reading online and I’ve made my room as sleepover friendly as possible.’ he explained.

Blaine: “I’ve been told that before and yet, I never get tired of hearing it,” Blaine said with a cheeky look, setting the pyjamas down and tilting his head to the side slightly. “I was going to sleep wherever you told me, Sir. I don’t mind sharing your bed, though. I find it kind of comforting to be in bed with another person. Is that strange?” Blaine waited a moment for an answer before blushing and untying his bowtie. He wasn’t shy regarding his body anymore, not really. Braxton had taken that away from him so he easily slipped his shirt over his head and stepped out of his tight jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. But then he was pulling the pyjamas on and setting on Alex’s bed, cross-legged and grinning. “Ready when you are, Sir! This is going to be the best sleepover ever.”

Alexander: Blaine surprised him; although he supposed his response really shouldn’t. He’d no option but to trust Blaine’s expression of comfort at sharing a bed with someone was genuine. That, and trusting that he could keep his hands to himself. Before he could look away, Blaine was stripping out of his clothes and before he could really appreciate the sight, he was redressing in pyjamas. Normally, he slept in his boxers or in even less, but he’d opted for a pair of grey sweatpants and a faded Superman t-shirt. He made himself comfortable on the bed next to Blaine, and laid out their movie choices. 'Okay, we have Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix or Batman. Which are you feeling B?’

Blaine: Blaine leaned a little closer when Alex climbed onto the bed next to him so he could view the movie options. There was a grin on his face and he immediately picked up the Star Wars DVD, moving over to the TV. “Did you expect anything less from me?” He asked easily setting it up. “We can start with this, Sir, then move onto Harry potter. Or Batman! Honestly, I love them all,” he said with a laugh, settling back against the bed and leaning against Alex ever so slightly. “Is it weird that I’m excited?

Alexander: Instinctively, he draped his arm over Blaine’s shoulders when the younger man leaned against him. 'I really should have guessed you’d go with our thing.’ he grinned, quoting Blaine’s earlier declaration. 'It’s not weird at all. I’m excited too. I don’t normally have company when I watch these movies.’ he confessed. Reaching for the remote, he pressed play and leaned back against the headboard as the familiar opening started.

Blaine: Blaine was surprised at how relaxed he felt here with Alex. But it was nice, to sit like this and he curled in a little closer as the opening started. There was just something about being here, with someone who clearly cared for his well-being, watching one of his favourite movies that Blaine just loved. He lost himself in the familiar story and found himself wishing he could be in that world, not for the first time either.

Alexander: It felt bizarrely comfortable. He wasn’t normally much of a cuddler; he always ended up feeling too hot and so more often than not, he refrained. This , however, just felt nice. He wasn’t as fully engaged in the movie as he normally was. His eyes keep glancing down and to the side; and he couldn’t help but smile as he took in Blaine’s engaged expression. He suspected there weren’t many people who did nice things for him and in his opinion. Blaine deserved a lot of nice things. He lost himself briefly in thoughts of kissing him. He did his best to banish the thoughts from his head. He felt too much part of a society that took away Blaine’s right to consent and curbing his own wants to allow Blaine to enjoy the movie was the least he could do.

Blaine: Blaine’s eyes barely moved from the screen. The only time they really did was when he reached for the snacks he’d brought with him to offer them to Alex before returning to his original position, curled into Alex’s side and lost in the movie. "I hate that Lando betrays Han!” Blaine said out of the blue, frowning a little. “I get why, but I still hate it! They have so much history and they’re supposed to be friends.” There was a small pout on Blaine’s face as he curled in closer to Alex, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Alexander: He had to try not to laugh. He’d thought he was a fan of the series but Blaine took it to a whole other level. He was so invested in a story Alex was sure he’d seen many times over and it was nothing short of endearing. He shifted as Blaine cuddled closer to him, positioning himself so that Blaine was half laying against his chest. He knew it was a major faux pas to talk during a movie but he found Blaine’s commentary and his opinions sweet. ‘So why do you think Lando betrays Han?’ He asked, leaning down to whisper against his ear.

Blaine: “He did it to protect him from being completely destroyed by Vader!” Blaine said, frowning a little. “But I still don’t like it. They’re meant to be friends!” Blaine turned to look at Alex, still pouting a little. He glanced down at his lips for a moment, suddenly aware of how close they were. “I just… I just don’t think it’s fair, Sir,” he said quietly.

Alexander: If you asked him at a later date, he wouldn’t be able to identify exactly why he chose to react the way he did. It was possible that he was just used to being bold and making a move, it could have been the fact the Blaine’s pouting lips practically begged to be kissed or it could have been a moment of madness. Whatever the reason was, Alexander found himself closing the small distance between them and pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Blaine’s lips. It didn’t last more than thirty seconds before he was pulling back and bringing the arm that had been around Blaine with him. ‘I’m sorry Blaine. I said I wasn’t going to do that.’

Blaine: Blaine wasn’t sure when things had changed between them, but it definitely did. Because Alex had closed the gap between them and was kissing him softly, as though he was the most precious thing in the world. His heart skipped a beat: he hadn’t been expecting this and now, here they were, as though it was the most natural thing. But then it was gone. Alex was puling away and apologising and Blaine was left exactly where he was, somewhat confused. He could see the panic in the other’s face and frowned a little. His movements were slow, careful, as he made his way back over to the other man, closing the distance he’d put between them. “It’s okay,” he said quietly as he settled on his lap, suddenly aware of how small he was compared to him. “I promise it’s okay, Alex.” Why he’d used his name, Blaine wasn’t sure. But he was leaning up to kiss him again, wanting to assure the other that he wasn’t against this.

Alexander: It was the first time Blaine had ever used his name. He’d always been amused that more people didn’t use his name; he’d never instructed anyone to call him Sir apart from in the demonstrations. And then he realised Blaine was on his lap, and he was leaning up and - He couldn’t resist kissing back. Blaine had initiated it this time so that must mean he wanted it. His hands moved to rest comfortably on his waist and he kissed him a little more insistently. But what if he just felt obligated to do this? He remembered all too clearly a conversation they’d had where Blaine made it abundantly clear he’d do anything to please a Master. ‘You don’t have to do this Blaine.’ He said quietly, pulling back and speaking into the air between them. ‘I won’t be upset or anything. All you asked me for was nothing non-consensual and I promised you that. You’ve no obligation to be kissing me.’ He promised him.

Blaine: The hands on his waist were comforting and Blaine felt like this was natural. He’d kissed plenty of people but with Alex, it was different. He cared about the other, he liked spending time with him, why wouldn’t he want to kiss him? But then the other was pulling away and Blaine groaned softly, mainly in frustration. “Oh my god, please shut up,” he breathed, leaning forwards to kiss him again, though it was brief. “I know I don’t have to do this. You haven’t forced me into anything. See this as me giving you consent. You spoke about kinks, Sir, and I want to explore them because I trust you. I trust you and you’re ridiculously attractive, why wouldn’t I want to?” Blaine smiled, his hand coming up to let his fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Alexander Smythe, I’m consenting to this. To you kissing me, to… to exploring kinks, even if I am a little nervous. I want this, and not just because you’re a Master. I promise.”

Alexander: He couldn’t hold back his laughter then. It wasn’t mocking or cruel; it was bright, happy and perhaps tinted with some disbelief. ‘You just told me to shut-up.’ He said eventually, looking to Blaine with slightly watery eyes. ‘And that’s the second time you’ve said my name like that in all the conversations we’ve had.’ He shook his head as though that would help centre his thoughts. The hands on Blaine’s waist held firm and kept him in place as Alexander rolled over and pinned Blaine beneath him. ‘Since you’re consenting, I think I’m going to enjoy kissing you. He peppered kisses against his lips, occasionally allowing one to linger. He nipped at his lips, before turning his attention to kissing along the line of Blaine’s jaw.

Blaine: Alex’s laughter was perfect and Blaine found himself laughing too. “You could punish me for that,” he said with a grin, still playing with his hair. “Do you like me saying your name? I’m just so used to calling you 'Sir’ because it’s more respectful. Especially around others.” A soft yelp left him when they were rolled over and Blaine was pinned beneath the other, smiling against him as he continued to kiss him softly. His head fell back a little against the pillows at the kisses to his jaw and the softest of groans left Blaine as he moved his hands to rest on Alex’s chest, as though he wanted to pull him closer.

Alexander: He’d always liked a balance between a title and his name. He’d much rather someone moaned his name than a title that could belong to anyone. ‘I’m sure I’ll find time to spank you before the weekend is over.’ He said against his skin. He moved from his jaw to his neck; his kisses were a little sloppy and when he reached his pulse point, he was overcome with the urge to mark him, however temporarily. He bit down and sucked at the sensitive skin; harder and harder until he could pull away and feel satisfied with the bruise that would form on his neck.

Blaine: Blaine hadn’t expected to groan in response to his words: the sound left him before he’d even realised it. The thought of Alex spanking him until his ass was red was unbelivably hot and he knew he wanted it. His lips had moved to his neck and again, Blaine was moaning softly, though the sound got louder as the Master began to suck a bruise onto the skin there, arching his back slightly. He wasn’t sure what Alex had planned but god, he couldn’t wait now, holding the other closer to him. “What are you going to do, Sir?” He asked breathlessly, looking up at him properly. “What k-kinks did you want to explore?”

Alexander: The movie continued to play in the background and Alexander felt like he was fourteen again; fumbling around with someone upstairs unbeknownst to his Father. He sat up, straddling Blaine’s waist and looked down at him with a smirk. Between his flushed cheeks, the bruise forming on his neck and the ways his eyes focused on him so intently, it took Alexander a moment to recall that he’d had plans for Blaine this weekend, things he wanted to explore. Spanking was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could say it, a new thought cane to mind. ‘Bondage and body worship. I hope I don’t need it but you should tell me your safeword before we start playing.’ He decided, allowing his hands to rest against lightly against Blaine’s stomach. He shifted backwards so that Blaine was able to move again and flashed a smirk. ‘As sweets as those PJs are, I want them off and I want you to lay in the centre of the bed. Stretch your hands and feet to each corner.’ He instructed. He paused for a moment and added ‘And if you happen to use my name on occasion, I wouldn’t complain.’

Blaine: “My safeword is just red,” Blaine said quietly. “And yellow if I think I’m getting close to needing to use it. Not that I imagine I’d need to, Sir.” The orders were simple and Blaine sat up a little so he could remove his pyjamas, leaving him in just his underwear. He hesitated for a moment before removing them too and leaving him completely naked in front of Alex. But he did what he was told, laying back on the bed and stretching his body out. His cheeks were slightly pink as he was put on full display for Alex, but it didn’t matter. “I’ve never really play around with either of those things,” Blaine said, biting his lip. “But I’m excited.”

Alexander: ‘But if you do need to use it, you can. At any point and I’ll stop.’ He assured him. It felt like something he needed to confirm, something he had to say out loud to ensure Blaine believed him. Bondage was something he knew he enjoyed, and because it was something he engaged in often, he kept several loops of his preferred rope in the bedroom instead of keeping everything in the playroom. With nimble fingers, he secured Blaine exactly how he wanted him and stood back slightly to admire the sight. ‘Now you look pretty as a picture.’ He hummed. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and did himself of his sweats and moved to straddle Blaine’s waist again. ‘How do you feel being tied down like this?’ He prompted. His goal was to make Blaine communicate more, to help him learn what he liked and to encourage him to ask for it. Given the way he’d told him to shut-up earlier, he hoped it wouldn’t be as much of a challenge as he’d initially thought.

Blaine: Blaine nodded to show she understood. He’d never used either words but he knew he would be able to with Alex. It was comforting to know. He watched the other tie him to the bed, tugging gently at the restraints to test how they felt against his limbs. The compliment brought another blush to his cheeks and Blaine shifted a little, watching the other strip. “I… I don’t know, Sir,” he said softly. “I like the fact you’re in control. That I’m here, just at your mercy. And it’s kind of hot to be on display for you, even if I can’t stop blushing. I like it.”

Alexander: ‘Strictly between you and I Blaine, you might be even prettier than me. I have every intention of having you on display for me as often as possible.’ He confided, leaning down to whisper against his ear. ‘And I love the fact you can’t stop blushing.’ It had been a significant while since he’d last engaged in a scene like this; normally the whole point was hooking up, but this was about taking his time. He allowed his fingers to trace lightly over Blaine’s torso and up to his chest as though he were mapping his skin by touch alone. He leaned down and kissed him again; slowly and softly. He wanted Blaine to only just feel everything because he wanted him to ask for more.

Blaine: Blaine couldn’t help but laugh at those words, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alex,” he said softly, shivering a little at the gentle touches to his skin. It was like his whole body was sensitive, painfully aware of every touch Alex made with his fingers and Blaine trembled slightly beneath him. But then they were kissing again as he was leaning up to meet his lips easily, groaning a little against him. He could feel the telltale signs of arousal pooling in his stomach and shifted on the bed again, pulling back from Alex’s lips for a moment. “I like being on display for you, Sir. I think it’s knowing that you can do what you want to me that I like.”

Alexander: ‘Now that’s interesting.’ He hummed, looking down at him. ‘I wonder what else I can do to make sure you know I can do what I want to you.’ He mused, his mind already whirling with ways he could make Blaine feel that way without tying him down. He pecked his lips against briefly, before continuing to explore his skin; this time with his lips instead of his fingers. He mouthed down his neck and at the exact spot where his neck met his collarbone, he bit down again and sucked another bruise against his skin. He loved to mark the people he played with; it was a temporary claim of ownership, it was a way to remind the other person exactly what had happened long after the play had finished. As he marked him, his fingers walked up his torso and across his chest, finding his nipples. His finger and thumb closed around one and circled slowly.

Blaine: “You’re creative, I’m sure you could think of plenty.” There was a cheeky grin on his face and he let his head fall back against the pillows as Alex began to move his lips down his neck. There was a moment of nothing and then Blaine was being marked again and a low moan was escaping him, letting his eyes close. It felt good and he liked being marked like this, though he never expected to. When he felt the pressure against his nipple though, his eyes opened and he looked up at the Master, another groan leaving him. His arousal was obvious now and Blaine squirmed against the bed beneath Alex, biting back another moan.

Alexander: Mentally, he was making a note of every spot that made Blaine squirm or groan. He could feel his arousal now but he didn’t make any mention of it; there was still so much teasing to be done. ‘Are you aware that you’re beautiful?’ He asked, pulling back slightly so he could look at him more clearly. He replaced his fingers with his mouth and sucked the stiffened bud between his lips; simultaneously teasing the other with his thumb. The angle he was at meant he could almost rest his chin on Blaine’s chest and watch the expressions play out on his face.

Blaine: The words had him blushing even harder and he tugged at the restraints on his wrists slightly, wanting to cover his face. He just shook his head, watching Alex move over his body. But then his mouth was on him and he was groaning softly, head falling back with a soft thud. Blaine’s eyes were closed and he was moaning softly as Alex teased him, still shifting on the bed beneath him.

Alexander: He could feel his own arousal growing; the way Blaine blushed and squirmed underneath him send all the blood straight to his cock. ‘You are incredibly beautiful.’ He told him, pulling his mouth away with only some reluctance. ‘I know I talk about being pretty all the time, but you really might just be prettier.’ He teased, giving him a wink. ‘How are you feeling Blaine?’ He asked, shifting down so he was kneeling between his legs rather than straddling him. He rested his hands in his thighs, slowly dragging them upwards; close to his crotch but never actually touching him where he probably most wanted to be touched.

Blaine: It didn’t matter how many times Alex said it, Blaine simply didn’t believe he was beautiful. He was only good for getting used, that’s what Braxton had told him anyway. The question took him by surprise and he raised his head to look at Alex, biting his lip as he moved between his legs. “I’m f-fine,” he said softly, arching in the touches to his thighs. His cock was hard, aching, flush against his body and begging for attention. But Alex never did, merely touching him everywhere else but where he craved it. “But you can see how hard I am, Sir,” he said. “So I’m feeling ridiculously aroused.”

Alexander: ‘Do you believe me when I tell you how attractive you are?’ He asked curiously, noting that Blaine hadn’t really responded to any of his compliments. His eyes fell to Blaine’s cock and he offered him a smirk. ‘I can see how hard you are. You’re all flushed and needy.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s a little frustrating isn’t it? Being that hard with nothing to rut against. It’s one reason why I like this particular position as much as I do. Everything you feel, you feel because I want you to feel it.’ Despite every conversation he’d had about their society and the power he was granted in recent days, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy this part. He loved having someone at his mercy; he loved making them squirm. ‘I want you to tell me what feels good. What do you like Blaine?’

Blaine: Blaine hesitated at the question before shaking his head, cheeks turning red once again. He simply didn’t believe it. But right now, he couldn’t focus on that because Alex was speaking again and Blaine looked at him, mouth slightly parted. It was more than a little frustrating: his cock was desperate for some kind of friction and he arched his hips a little, as though seeking some form of release. “I… I don’t know, Sir,” he said honestly, voice a little strained. “You know my experiences haven’t been great. Most of the sex I’ve had has been rough, though. So hair pulling, marking, spanking. But I don’t know…”

Alexander: ‘Blaine, look at me. I think you can see just how aroused I am and no-one’s touched me yet. Surely that tells you you’re attractive.’ He said disbelievingly, sitting back slightly so Blaine could his hard-on through the thin fabric of his boxers. It baffled him; perhaps because he’d always been so confident of his own looks, that someone couldn’t see themselves for what they were. ‘No, I don’t want you to think about any other time. I want you to think about right now. I want you to tell me where it felt good to be kissed, touched. I want you to try and tell me what you want.’ He explained, his voice soft and patient. ‘Take a deep breath and relax Blaine. There’s no pressure. I just want you to try.’

Blaine: Blaine did as he was told and looked at Alex, though his blush remained firmly where it was. He bit his lip a little and looked up so their eyes met again, swallowing hard. “Okay…” he said softly, doing exactly that and taking a deep breath before relaxing against the bed, despite his currently position. “It felt good when you were… when you were touching me. Honestly, it didn’t matter where because you feel good. And I like being marked by you. Knowing those bruises will stay there for everyone to see is something I really like. And… what I want…” Blaine hesitated, not used to asking what he wanted. Whenever it came to sex, it wasn’t about him and it was about the other person. “I want you to t-touch me. I don’t know how. But I’m so hard, it aches and I want you to touch me there. I also want to make you feel good, Alex,” he said, blushing at the use of his name. “I like making others feel good.”

Alexander: ‘Good boy.’ He was glad he’d refrained from offering the praise up until this point. He hoped it would mean more now. He could see it wasn’t easy for Blaine to talk like that but he’d given him what he wanted; he couldn’t really ask for anything more. ‘I promise I’m going to touch you exactly where you want me too but not quite yet.’ He explained. He lowered himself so the He was laying flat against the bed and turned his attention to Blaine’s inner thighs. He kissed and sucked from his knee to his crotch but his breath simply ghosted over his length in favour of repeating his pattern in his other thigh. A person’s hips were almost always Alex’s favourite part of them; they tended to be more sensitive that the person realised he’d learned through his own experience. ‘The other marks are for other people to see Blaine. But this one is just for you. You’ll feel this one when the waistband of your pants rubs against it, when you bend over. I want you to be very aware that it’s there and I want you to think about me.’ He grinned before biting down hard over his hipbone. He liked a little pain with his pleasure and he wasn’t afraid to use his teeth to leave the type of mark he really desired.

Blaine: Praise. That was one thing Blaine liked and immediately it brought a smile to his face. He nodded at the explanation and watched the other move down his body once more. The teasing was almost unbearable and Blaine groaned softly, his legs shaking a little as Alex teased them. He was nodding at the words before he’d really heard them, enjoying this far too much to really focus. But then he felt the harsh mark being bitten into his hip and moaned loudly, arching his back a little. It’d ache but it would be completely worth it because Alex was marking him for his own and god, Blaine was sure his length only grew harder.

Alexander: He sat up with a grin, his fingers pressing against the rapidly bruising skin at Blaine’s hip. ‘So fucking pretty.’ He swore, feeling the expletive was essential in conveying just how pretty. ‘Initially I was going to give you a choice about how I got you off.’ He explained, finally granting Blaine a little of the touch he wanted by tracing his fingers over his length. ‘But honestly, I really want to blow you so unless you’re really opposed to my mouth, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’

Blaine: As soon as he felt the slightly pressure against his length, Blaine was bucking his hips up, desperately seeking more. All he could do was nod at the words, still trying to seek friction for his aching length, tugging at the restraints again. “Please, Alex,” he whined softly, looking up at him desperately. “I’m not opposed, not at all. I’m so h-hard. Please, please, I need something, Sir.”

Alexander: His whining was literally music to Alexander’s ears. ‘Relax little B. I’ve got you.’ He chuckled. He shifted, repositioning himself on the sheets so he was in a more comfortable position. Teasingly, he flattened his tongue against Blaine’s cock and licked a firm stripe from base to tip. A low groan rumbled from his chest. He held the base of his length with one hand and slowly, keeping eye contact, closed his lips around the swollen head. He bobbed there; flicking his tongue and hollowing his cheeks. He’d always enjoyed giving oral sex almost more than receiving it; people always reacted in the best of ways and that’s what drove him wild.

Blaine: The feel of the tongue against him had Blaine moaning loudly and he wanted to arch his hips to get more, but he trusted Alex and stayed still, despite the trembling of his body. And then he felt the other’s mouth wrap around the head of his cock. The effect was immediate - Blaine arched his back and let out a low groan, the sound leaving him unwillingly. Alex was damn good at this, and Blaine tugged at the restraints again, as though to ground himself.

Alexander: His hands were braced against his hips just in case he needed to hold him down but the push never came. He’d have told him again he was a good boy if his mouth weren’t full. Not having much of a gag reflex was a useful thing in situations like this and slowly, he sunk his mouth lower on Blaine’s cock, continuing until he could feel the tip brush against the back of his throat. He held him there for a moment before pulling back. He established a quick rhythm, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks as he took more of his cock between his lips. One hand left the boy’s hips to cup and massage his balls and moaned around him as he did so.

Blaine: It was like Blaine was completely at Alex’s mercy. Everything felt amazing and he let his head fall back so he could moan loudly again, back arching just a little. So this was why Braxton demanded these all the time. It felt so fucking good and Blaine could barely think straight, couldn’t focus on anything other than his cock in Alex’s mouth. The touches to his balls were unexpected and Blaine’s hips jerked involuntarily, a hitched groan leaving him. “S-Sorry,” he said when he’d realised what he’d done, looking down at Alex and moaning softly. “It feels so good, so fucking good. Oh my god, please don’t stop, Alex.”

Alexander: It was only a fool who gave someone a blowjob and expected them to remain perfectly still throughout. The involuntary hip jerks and the squirming all confirmed that he was doing something good and only served to encourage him. Blaine saying his name in this situation was infinitely better than Sir; it made it very clear that Blaine knew exactly who was making him feel so good. He gave his balls another firm squeeze before allowing his fingers to drift a little lower. He’d no intention of actually penetrating him; not without any lube, but there were enough nerve endings outside to only increase his pleasure. He teased his hole with varying pressure and lightly scraped his teeth against the underside of Blaine’s cock as he bobbed his head.

Blaine: Blaine was completely lost in the pleasure, in how good Alex was making him feel. The pressure against his hole had Blaine crying out softly and he arched his back again. How was it possible he was feeling this good from something so simple? He’d never know anything like it and tugged at the restraints again, desperate to touch the other. “Sir… Alex, please. Please, I feel so close. I don’t know if I can hold back, please.”

Alexander: He thought about making him wait but honestly he didn’t know how good Blaine’s stamina was, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold off and the last thing he wanted was to give him a challenge he couldn’t master. There would be plenty of time for orgasm control and denial at another point in the weekend. The purpose of this was for Blaine to let go, to enjoy himself and also for Alex to have an incredibly hot, squirming boy tied to his bed. He pulled off his cock with an obscene wet pop and licked his lips. ‘You can cum B. Whenever you feel like it.’ He didn’t stop his fingers as he spoke and as soon as he’d given him to go-ahead, he returned to his ministrations completely; devoting all his attention to giving Blaine the most mind-blowing orgasm.

Blaine: Blaine was relieved when Alex told him he could cum when he felt like it. There was no pressure, nothing to say he couldn’t and it was honestly such a welcome feeling. Alex returned to what he was doing without another word and Blaine whined loudly, arching his back again. It was like he was on fire, the pressure in his stomach threatening to snap at any moment. And then it did, and Blaine orgasm hit with a loud moan of Alex’s name, spilling into his mouth and keeping his back arched.

Alexander: It only took him slightly by surprise and he stuttered for a second before adapting quickly. He swallowed greedily, eagerly continuing to suck through his orgasm. Blaine moaning his name rang in his ears and his cock stirred as though to remind him he hadn’t given himself any attention. He pulled off, quite sure he looked a sight and flicked his tongue over his lips in an attempt to clean his face off somewhat. He flashed Blaine a grin. ‘Beautiful.’ And he really was; laying against his sheets, dark bruises forming on his skin and a spatter of white where Alex had managed to swallow everything. ‘I’m gonna untie you now. Your arms and legs will probably be a little stiff; might feel like pins and needles.’ He explained. ‘Just move nice and easy.’

Blaine: Blaine could barely focus. He felt Alex move away from his length and knew he was looking at him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Because he was still coming down from his high and he felt too damn good. “Okay,” he mumbled when Alex said he was going to untie him, shifting a little. And as soon as his limbs were free, Blaine reached up for the Master and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. “That felt amazing. Give me… a few minutes to recover. And I’ll make you feel good. I just need a minute to actually feel my legs.”

Alexander: He didn’t expect Blaine to wrap his arms around him and he almost fell completely on top of him. He caught himself; one hand flat against the bed and the other holding Blaine’s waist. ‘Take all the time you need Blaine.’ He hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. ‘You don’t need to do anything else tonight.’ His cock was aching but that would subside and honestly, he was content to have give Blaine an enjoyable experience. It didn’t need to be about him. He gave his hip a squeeze, right over where he’d marked him. ‘Let me grab a towel to clean you up and we can go back to cuddling just like this.’ He promised.

Blaine: Blaine frowned at the words and pulled back a little so he could look at Alex properly. The confusion was obvious on his face and he reached down to lace their fingers together, biting his lip. “But… why?” He asked quietly. “You’re hard, and I want to make you feel good too.” He groaned quietly at the squeeze to his hip. It ached but god, it felt good. “Do you not want me to make you feel good?”

Alexander: With his free hand, he traced Blaine’s lip; freeing his lower one from his teeth. ‘There’ll be plenty of time to make me feel good.’ He assured him. ‘It just doesn’t need to happen right now. I wanted to do something nice for you, I wanted to make you writhe and squirm and moan. I’ve done that. So I’m content to just cuddle.’ He felt a little awkward explaining it. He couldn’t quite understand himself why he wasn’t eager for Blaine to return the favour. If he really thought about it, perhaps he was still a little caught up on the idea of consent and whether a slave could really give it. He flashed him a bright smile. ‘It has absolutely nothing to do with not being attracted to you, nothing to do with not wanting you. I just - wanted you to enjoy this. It wasn’t about me.’

Blaine: Blaine let out a soft sigh when Alex pulled his lip from his teeth, looking up at him and still frowning. He knew Alex just wanted to make him feel good but Blaine wanted to do the same. It wasn’t anything to do with him being a slave and the other being a Master. He just wanted to make his friend feel good. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I understand… but I just want you to know, Sir, that I’d be doing it because I want to. I want to make you feel amazing, like you did for me.”

Alexander: He gave him a smile before untangling himself slightly. He crossed the room, and picked up a towel before returning to perch next to Blaine on the bed. 'Don’t worry. I’m not getting in my head again. You don’t need to tell me to shut up.’ he chuckled, as he gently did his best to clean Blaine up. 'I’m not going to stop you if you want to because fuck me, you’d look so good between my legs. But I also don’t want you to feel like you have to return a favour. I’m pretty sure I wanted to suck your cock as much as you wanted me to suck it.’ he laughed.

Blaine: Blaine closed his eyes as Alex gently cleaned his body, relaxing against the bed. He could hear the end credits of the movie and almost laughed when he realised they’d done that with their favourite Star Wars film on in the background. But he didn’t care. “I just need to regain the feeling in my arms and legs, Sir. Then I’d be more than happy. If not, I’m here all weekend. There’s plenty of time.”

Alexander: Content that Blaine was as clean as he could make him without taking a shower, he tossed the towel aside. He moved so that he was comfortably placed in the centre of the bed and he drew Blaine in closer to him. ‘We have all weekend.’ He echoed. ‘Tonight, you can just relax, regain that feeling you’re missing.’ He teased.

Blaine: Blaine immediately curled into Alex’s side and sighed happily as he let the other bring him closer. “Mhm. I’m sure by the end of this weekend, you’ll have fucked me,” he mumbled sleepily before turning and nuzzling into Alex’s neck. “Wanna put another movie on? I’ll probably fall asleep though, Sir.”

Alexander: The language caught him by surprise. He’d sworn in the height of everything but he hadn’t expected the expletive to fall from his lips as he came down. ‘I think you’re going to wake up on Monday morning well and truly fucked and you’ll be missing me by dinner time.’ He teased, running his fingers up and down the length of Blaine’s arm. ‘Another movie would be nice but I have no desire to move nor any desire to ask you to move.’ He confessed.

Blaine: Blaine hummed in agreement, keeping his body pressed close to Alex’s. “Good. Because I don’t want you to move. You’re comfy,” he mumbled. “I feel safe with you. And I know I won’t get nightmares tonight so I’m happy to be here.”

Alexander: ‘You are safe with me B.’ He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It gave his stomach an uncomfortable twist to learn Blaine had nightmares; he could only imagine what or who had caused them. ‘Make yourself comfortable and rest if you want to.’ It was considerably earlier than he normally went to sleep but he supposed the unexpected excitement must have tired the other boy out, and the way he huddled against him was entirely too sweet to push away.

#「☾」in a world that is not our own ⟩ verse: wellington prep

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onwardintolight · 8 years ago

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On Archive of Our Own here.

All outside the Falcon might have been quiet as they rested on the back of the Star Destroyer’s bridge tower, but inside the ship, the cockpit’s organic occupants were having their ears assailed by See-Threepio’s hysteric prattling.

“Captain Solo, this time you have gone too far,” the droid announced pompously, prompting the Wookiee to let out a frustrated growl, one that Leia felt spoke for all of them. “No, I will not be quiet, Chewbacca!” Threepio wailed. “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

Ignoring him, Han gestured towards the two other Star Destroyers they could see out the viewport, which seemed to dance around one another as each veered off towards some separate, unseen goal. “The fleet’s beginning to break up,” he observed, turning to Chewbacca. “Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw.” The Wookiee roared his assent and clambered his way between the seats towards the hatch, unintentionally giving Leia a face full of musky Wookiee fur in the process. She crinkled her nose and tried not to sneeze.

Threepio continued his lecture, and while Leia was sure that to his own ears he was being quite heroic, even she was having trouble tolerating him at the moment. “I really don’t see how that is going to help,” the droid moaned. “Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances. The Empire may be gracious enough—” Han exchanged an incredulous look with Leia, then motioned towards the droid. Happy to comply, Leia reached over and switched him off.

“Thank you,” said Han.

Leia got out of her chair and moved up beside him, resting her arms on the console and trying not to let the thrill of being this close to him again show. “What do you have in mind for your next move?”

“Well,” said Han, “if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they’ll dump their garbage before they go to light-speed. Then we just float away.”

“With the rest of the garbage,” Leia finished, an amused smile playing on her lips. It was a pretty good plan. “Then what?”

“Then we’ve got to find a safe port somewhere around here. Got any ideas?” He flipped a switch on the display monitor, and the light from the astrogation display bathed his face in a blue glow as he pored over holographic charts of nearby systems.

“No,” Leia replied, searching her memory for any information that might help, but coming up empty. This was a remote sector of the galaxy, and her knowledge of the area was primarily limited to the Hoth system, which they didn’t appear to be in any longer. “Where are we?”

He centered in on a system less than a parsec away from Hoth. “The Anoat system.”

“Anoat system,” she muttered, scouring the chart for anything promising, but not feeling particularly hopeful. “There’s not much there.” If her memory served her right, the system’s only options for shelter were planets the Alliance had advised against even venturing near — pirate-infested, toxic wastelands where people had a tendency to disappear.

“No,” Han agreed, widening the map to encompass more of the surrounding area. “Well, wait,” he said, his voice rising hopefully. “This is interesting. Lando.”

“Lando system?” Leia repeated, puzzled.

Han looked back at her briefly, an unreadable expression on his face, and Leia felt a twinge of uneasiness that she couldn’t quite place. “Lando’s not a system, he’s a man,” Han explained. “Lando Calrissian. He’s a card player, gambler, scoundrel. You’d like him,” he added, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Thanks,” Leia grumbled.

“Bespin,” he continued, and zoomed in on a planet in a system of the same name. “It’s pretty far, but I think we can make it.”

Leia scanned the information scrolling on the screen. “A mining colony?”

“Yeah, a Tibanna gas mine. Lando conned somebody out of it. We go back a long way, Lando and me,” he added, that same inscrutable look on his face as he turned off the astrogation display and leaned back in his chair.

“Can you trust him?” Leia asked.

“No,” Han declared without hesitation. “But he’s got no love for the Empire, I can tell you that.”

Suddenly they felt the Star Destroyer rumble beneath their feet as it began its pirouette into position for light-speed. “Here we go, Chewie, stand by,” Han spoke into the comm, eyes fixed on the scene outside the viewport. “Detach!”

Leia felt the deep reverberations of the Destroyer fade into nothingness as they floated away. Stars spiraling through the viewport, they tumbled down to join a stream of garbage released from a hatch in the giant capital ship. Han had timed it perfectly. Leia shook her head in wonder. “You do have your moments,” she confessed, reaching out tentatively to put a hand on his shoulder. “Not many of them, but you do have them.” Feeling a sudden burst of boldness, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Then, lips tingling, she sat back down to let him concentrate on avoiding a collision with the whirling detritus.

In a moment, the Star Destroyers had all disappeared from the Falcon’s sensors, vanished into hyperspace. Han pulled the Falcon out of the torrent of garbage and began calculating the route to the Bespin system.

“So, how long are we looking at?” Leia ventured to ask.

“Well, our hyperdrive is shot—”

“Clearly,” she snorted.

“—so we’re gonna have to use the backup hyperdrive. It ain’t fast. I’m doing the calculations now, but it looks like it’ll be, oh, about three weeks till we get to Bespin.”

“Three weeks?” she exclaimed, horrified. It made sense, of course, that it would take so long, and when she thought about it she realized she should be grateful it wasn’t longer. But honestly, until this moment, she hadn’t truly processed the implications of having no properly working hyperdrive in a relatively empty sector of space. She felt weak.

Han sounded apologetic. “Hey, at least we’ve got the backup hyperdrive. This could be a whole lot worse.” He finished punching in the coordinates and set the sublight drive on autopilot before turning around to face her. “I’m pretty sure we have enough supplies to last us that long. We’ll have to do an inventory and ration out everything just to be sure, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“Right,” Leia said, feeling dazed.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Han got to his feet. “Well,” he started, giving his hair a quick comb-through with his fingers, “Chewie and I’d better go hook up the backup hyperdrive. You can go ahead and grab something to eat and we’ll join you later.”

“I’m not really hungry,” she muttered.

“You’re ‘not really hungry’?” Han repeated skeptically, concern and frustration warring on his face. It was a look Leia was all too familiar with — for awhile now, he’d been entirely too attentive to her eating habits. “Come on, sweetheart. I bet you haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“I ate a ration bar before the battle.”

Han rolled his eyes. “That’s not enough.”

“I’m not hungry, okay?” she snapped, a little harsher than she meant to. She didn’t want to be having this argument, and to be honest, she didn’t think she could force anything down right now, not with this tension crawling up her spine again, encompassing, constricting. She felt a little sick.

Han held up his hands in a gesture of defeat as he circled her chair and headed to the hatch. “Okay, Princess, do whatever you want. But if you aren’t going to eat, you could come help Chewie ’n me. I want to get us out of sublight as soon as possible.”

Pursing her lips, Leia nodded and followed him out the door.

“I know, I know,” Han said, in answer to another frustrated roar from Chewbacca. “This field stabilizer isn’t working either. We’ll have to see if we have any more in storage.”

Leia looked at her chrono. It had been an hour since they had started the process of switching out hyperdrives, and as far as she could tell, they weren’t even close to being done. Disconnecting the main hyperdrive had been anything but simple, and moving it had involved a small repulsorlift, a considerable amount of Wookiee brawn, and an eruption of cursing as a corner of the hyperdrive came to rest on Han’s foot (an event Leia still maintained was in no way her fault). They’d managed to drag the backup out of the number three hold with slightly less difficulty, and they’d been inspecting it ever since to make sure it was in good enough shape to use. It wasn’t.

Leia sat back on her heels, taking a break from scrubbing corrosion off the charge planes to give her aching arms a rest. Chewie disappeared into the number three hold, apparently on a search for spare parts. Han was silent. They’d traded barbs over the foot incident, as well as various other things, and he’d been in a foul mood ever since. She didn’t feel much better. Exhaustion was starting to hit hard, but as much as she wanted to be finished with the hyperdrive, she dreaded going to bed. Sleep was never easy for her, nor pleasant, especially on nights like this when the muscles in her shoulders and neck clenched under the weight of the walls of anxiety closing in. She dreaded sleep, and she dreaded waking up again. She dreaded having to figure out how to live in close quarters, dreaded further eruptions between her and Han, dreaded him… well, knowing her even more than he already did; seeing more of her cracks, and more of the monster she feared was lurking beneath them.

She dreaded the fact that she was trapped here, with no way to run — not from Han, and not from herself.

She rolled her shoulders to try and relieve some of the pain, then resumed her scrubbing. The charge plane she was working on was so corroded she was amazed Han thought it could be salvaged. She sighed, and wondered darkly if they’d ever be able to get the backup online, or if they’d be stuck in sublight until their rations and fresh water ran out (or until the local pirates found them). “I guess it was too much to hope that anything would be in good shape on this blasted ship,” she muttered.

Apparently that was the last straw. From the other side of the hyperdrive, she heard a clang as Han set down his hydrospanner none too gently. “Look, Your Worshipfulness,” he growled, “like I’ve said before, this is the fastest ship in the galaxy, and she’s saved your royal neck more times than I can count, so a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt. Besides, if there’s a reason she’s not in her best shape right now, it’s you and your kriffin’ Rebellion.”

Leia bristled. “My Rebellion?” she repeated, her voice rising with her growing ire. “You’ve been with us for three years! And I seem to recall that you yourself volunteered for many of your missions, including the one to Ord Mantell!” She threw down her scrubber brush and stood up to face Han as he rounded the corner of the hyperdrive, indignation writing lines into his face. “You had weeks to finish your repairs, and all the resources and supplies you needed from us. It’s not my fault that you wasted all that time.” She vaguely noticed Chewbacca appearing in the doorway of the number three hold.

Han stood there in front of her, seething, his eyes ablaze with anger, and — to her surprise — genuine hurt. She tried not to look at his lips. He was close, so close she half expected him to take her into his arms and kiss her again, but instead he thrust out an index finger. “Look, Princess,” he snarled, “if you’d rather I’d left you on Hoth, I can turn around and drop you back off on my way outta here.”

Leia suddenly felt incredibly tired. The fire that had been surging in her blood seemed to drain away, leaving her cold and empty. “Maybe you should have,” she said, then turned and walked out of the room.

#Han x Leia fic #Han x Leia #SW fanfic #SW fic #the next chapter's better I promise #Star Wars #The Opening #writing #my fanfic #thoughts

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