#sao replies

[sexatoxbridge]

I feel like if you still believe in Larry, then I'm not misreading anything. I mean, we have the tattoos and the other 38485 coincidences but knowing you believe too helps :)

Also wtfuck was this shirt? It looks like a shirt you'd find for £5 at a petrol station but also was after the mermaid tattoo when everyone said Louis would get the matching lighthouse. Look at his smug ass face. That fool has a lighthouse somewhere on his person.

[vroom--vrooming]

Expecting Kelly to make a comment on every single bad decision the fia makes might be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard

Who said she needs to make comments on every single bad decision the FIA makes? But if Max was in place of Lewis in the Abu Dhabi 2021 race her and her family would have ripped everyone apart, not to mention the slurs they would have used. If it was anyone else instead of Max with a rocket ship for the last two years and Max was second in the championship she and her family would have come up with all kinds of accusations. You need to realize people like her don't care when others are suffering or being wronged as long as they are doing great. And defending a person like her anonymously online is kind of a joke. Besides these are millionaires and they would be millionaires even if the red flag comes out 40 seconds later. So chill out and take it easy

People are allowed to post about their significant others and show support but the hypocrisy is just through the roof with this one

[nobully]

'Where in the world did that cat go?'

'Did he run off with another lover again...'

[nvathuw]

đôi lúc đăng tranh lên xong r nhận đc mấy cmt tích cực của mn làm t vui lắm í

[zot3-flopped]

A brutally honest review of Louis' Argentina concert by a Larrie. They really did let in anyone who wanted to see the show and nobody knew the words to the songs.

There were no pride flags because surprise, surprise - fans have finally realised Louis is a homophobe who doesn't welcome them.

Disabled fans who wanted seats were forced to stand on the pitch - what was Louis playing at? No fans over 20, either. A completely different mix from 2022.

This is not sustainable. He needs to stop touring. Even the staff were laughing at him for failing to sell out the stadium.

MY LTWT 2022 vs MY FITFWT 2024 EXPERIENCE

This past Saturday, May 18th, I went to Louis’ show in Argentina, and I have a lot to say about it…

Let’s start with the show in general. When Louis announced the stadium he would be performing in (one show at Vélez Sarsfield - Capacity: 50k), in my mind I was already considering there was no chance of a sold out show, I already knew it wasn't going to happen. And it’s not that I don't believe in him or the amount of fans he has, but these are basic math to do and simple comparisons with his show in 2022 (two shows at Movistar Arena - Capacity: 15k). I won't go into details, but the chance of him selling out were a few, I won't say it was impossible, but it was difficult.

Here in Argentina, attending shows has become something that not everyone can afford to do, due to the high prices of the tickets. Besides the fact that many fans come from other provinces or distant cities, they need to pay for transport, hotel, food, etc. So, we can also blame the country's economy for not being able to sell out.

Although I maintain that the stadium was too big for him.

Let's not forget (or at least Argentinian fans still remember) that Louis did fill that same stadium, but with One Direction in 2014.

Something strange to note, and that some fans decide to pretend that it’s not strange at all, was that after months of tickets being on sale, and only a few sectors were completely sold out; only three days before the show, the rest of the sectors began to sell out completely. Are you going to tell me that in five months nobody could buy, the fans were collecting money, doing raffles, and in one day magically everything was sold out?

Now let's talk about the show…

My friend @anchorandrope (who I went with) and I had the cheapest sector, one of the highest stalls in the stadium. Both we and the fans who bought that sector were prepared, not only to withstand the cold that we knew we were going to suffer, but we also looked for comfort because we had seats and we were going to be able to be calmer in comparison to the general and VIP fields.

It was two hours before the gates opened, and the stadium staff started to tell us that we were going to have to move to another sector, specifically to the field. Nobody agreed, we paid for a specific ticket and "at the last minute" they decided to change us to another sector. There were long minutes of shouting between the fans and the stadium staff, where they gave us excuses as to why they were changing us, threatened us with not letting us in if we didn't accept this change and even blamed us for following an artist who didn't fill stadiums.

The funny thing is that they couldn't agree on a good excuse. While we were told it was because of problems in the toilets, a group further away were told it was a problem with the sound. If they knew days ago that they were going to change us, couldn't they agree on their lie?

I won't make this part of the story any longer, but much of my sector ended up in the general field, a much better sector than we originally had. But what was the problem? The problem was not being in that place, because I saw him much better than if I went where I should have been. The problem was the mistreatment, the thousand excuses they gave, being uncomfortable, because many of us didn't even have clothes for that sector, or we had backpacks that were too big with too many things, and if you know what it's like to be on the field, you know that you have to go with as few objects as possible.

The problem was all the parents who accompanied their children and got the cheapest seat for a reason, and they had to endure all those hours standing when they had purchased a sector with seats. And even if there were any children, I doubt that they would have been able to see or enjoy the show. There were people with a cast on their arm or with a disability that made it necessary to have a seated area, and they didn't care.

Let's move on to talk about the fans…

The atmosphere was tense.The hours of queuing and the hours of waiting inside the stadium were tense. Louis’ fandom is not what it used to be, and many of those who attended follow some trends imposed by a few fans on Twitter, so we were surrounded. With my friend we spoke in code or omitted to name certain words, because you never know who you have next to you, and at that moment the idea wasn't to look for trouble. You didn't feel that fandom togetherness that there was, and I know about that, I've been in fandom since 2011.

For example, during the queue before going in, an alarm I have on my phone for my contraceptive pill goes off and the song is Silver Tongues. My friend and I were laughing, and I told her that the song I used to use was Kiwi. I knew that she would understand me, that she understood the reference and wouldn't say anything, after all it was a joke with no offense intended, but you never know. The fans around us looked at us as if we were crazy or missing a joke (or just pretending not to understand).

I feel that this fandom lives in a cycle where every now and then we repeat the same “trends” over and over again, but that's a topic for a separate post. 

Regarding the age of fans, I don't have a problem and I don't have anything against new fans starting to listen to Louis, in fact, I strongly encourage him to continue to grow as an artist. But as a 23 year old, it was strange that every single person I talked to was under 20 years old. There were no fans my age, only a few exceptions, not even older. How can this happen? Where are all those fans who grew up with his music? Where are all those fans who were still his fans in 2022?

It wasn't just the tension between fans that was a factor in saying it was a strange show. There were no signs, no flags, as you could see at the 2022 show. Only the brave had been an iconic song at the last show, with its fan project of the LGBT+ flag created by lights in each sector. But this year, I could swear I could count on my fingers the flags I saw. I even read fans on Twitter saying that there was no point in bringing them to shows anymore, as if it was a temporary trend, or something from the Walls era.

When the show started, you could tell it wasn't the feel of a Louis’ show, there was something weird going on. The fans were silent, not singing along to the songs, including Walls. They were just recording. I understand if you don't know a cover from another artist, because I admit, I didn't sing both covers, but songs from his first album… How could you not know them? I could swear I could hear myself singing them and Louis.

The other sectors were silent as well, and those with seats were completely immobile.

In 2022, Copy Of A Copy Of A Copy was one of the songs where the fans sang the loudest, now none of them knew it, as if Louis was singing new songs. I know there are fans who didn't live through the One Direction era, or even despise everything related to it (another topic for another post), but how can they not sing songs like Night Changes or Where Do Broken Hearts Go? Again, in 2022 these covers would have been screamed until fans’ voices were gone.

You couldn't see the dedication or fanaticism for Louis. I could easily believe they just grabbed people passing by the door and let them in. I wouldn't even find it crazy if they had done it either.

In the two years that have passed between shows, it’s disappointing and sad to see this change. And if it wasn't for the fact that I was accompanied, I don't think I would have had a good time in all those long hours of waiting. I would understand if it was the other way around, and this was Louis' first show, and he didn't have the years of career that he has, and the recognition that he has.

Since Saturday, I've had a bad taste in my tongue because of everything that happened at the show. And I'm not the only one who can say these things. I know there are fans who are blinded by their fanaticism and will say that everything was perfect, or will argue that Louis could have sold out (because it happened to me), but it's a matter of taking a moment, thinking and being realistic.

It doesn't make me a bad fan to say his fandom is being horrible lately, it doesn't make me a bad fan to say he wasn't going to sell out. And let's stop blaming each other for this situation and start looking at who are the real culprits in all this?

There is a lot more to tell, but the post would become too long. If anyone wants me to tell more, they can send me an ask and I’ll be happy to continue to explain this.

[harrysfolklore]

i need a lando x brazilian!reader for sao paulo gp!!

persistence - ln4

summary: lando has the biggest crush on a brazilian model and he won’t give up until she gives him a chance

folkie radio: HAPPY LANDO DAY !! for some reason, my lando fics are always my least fave but i needed to post something for his bdayyyy, i hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter and 748,296 others

yourinstagram i ❤️ LA

view all comments

username1 THE FACE CARDDD

username2 if i looked like that i wouldn’t let anyone give me crap

username3 IT GIRL

alexademie Loved seeing you 😍

username4 brazilian women >>>

iamrebeccad 😍

username5 WHAT IS LANDO NORRIS DOING IN THE LIKES 😭

username6 lando i see you what are you up to

carlossainz55 Hermosa !

↳ username1 sometimes i forget she’s actually friends with carlos

↳ username2 ouuu maybe this is why lando is in the likes

↳ yourinstagram miss you carlitosss

madisonbeer pelase come more often loml 💘

↳ yourinstagram you should comento brazil miss!

username7 LINDA

username8 can’t believe we’re from the same country but i don’t look like this

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 you beautyyy

↳ username2 IT GIRLS FR

landonorris Pretty girl 😍

↳ username1 LANDO HELLO?

↳ username2 HES SO BOLD

↳ username3 yn not even replying 😭

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and 1,027,638 others

landonorris memories from my last time in brazil 📸

view all comments

username1 LANDOOOO

username2 HELLO SIR WTF

username3 what was the reason for this thirst trap NOT COMPLAINING THO 😭

charles_leclerc Who let the dogs out?

↳ username1 HELP MEEEEE

username4 lando norris what are you up to

username5 I WANT TO LICK HIM

mclaren Good start of the week 🙌

username6 confess lando who are you trying to charm

username7 HES SUCH A MAN

danielricciardo I’m looking respectfully

↳ username2 HE GETS IT

username8 lando posting a thirst trap from BRAZIL and not so randomly commenting on a brazilian model’s post LANDO I SEE WHAT YOU DO

carlossainz55 😂😂😂

username9 BE SERIOUS

f1gossip We’ll get to the bottom of this 👀

username10 i need to know how his brain works

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between carlos and lando

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

landonorris sent you a message request

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liked by landonorris, lilyrosedepp and 798,499 others

yourinstagram somebody come get this man… i think he got lost in my dms

view all comments

username1 IT GIRL

username2 how bad i wish i was her

username3 the amount of random celebs that probably slide into her dms 😭

lizzobeeating those lyrics 🤌🤌

username4 SPILL DEETS

username5 expose them bestie expose them

sabrinacarpenter i’m still laughing

↳ brunamarquezine me too

↳ yourinstagram we all 🤫

username6 i need her bandana asap

username7 MESSY QUEEN

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍 my style inspo !

↳ yourinstagram miss YOU are my style inspo we need to meet asap ❤️‍🔥

↳ username1 AHHH THIS CROSSOVER

carlossainz55 Forgive him… he’s just a boy

↳ iamrebeccad 😂😂

↳ username2 HUH WHATS THIS ABOUT???

↳ yourinstagram keep him humble carlitos

landonorris stunning 🤤

↳ username1 NOT THIS AGAIN

↳ username2 plot twist hes the man who got lost in her dms

liked by daniel3.jpg, carlossainz55 and 355,836 others

lando.‪jpg i’ll take that as a compliment

view all comments

username1 LANDOOOOO

username2 he remember the password for this account

username3 WHAT DOES HE MEAN 😭

charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂

daniel3.jpg mate im sure that’s not how it works…

‬ ↳ lando.‪jpg did i ask?

↳ username1 HUH LET ME IN

username4 WHAT IS HE ON ABOUT

username5 who’s attention is he trying to get with this post

username6 lando has been moving weirdly lately

carlossainz55 EMBARRASING

↳ charles_leclerc Please make him understand

↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂😂

↳ username2 WHAT IS THIS

↳ username3 I NEED TO BE PART OF THEIR INSIDE JOKES

↳ username4 I HATE THEM

↳ lando.jpg can’t hear the haters

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 609,638 others

yourinstagram monaco i am in you ✨

view all comments

username1 FACE CARDDDD

username2 the queen in monaco ? slay

username3 i know a certain mclaren driver will like to hear about this information

gigihadid 😍😍

madisonbeer MY GIRLFRIEND 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

username4 SCREAMING

username5 her genes are really blessed

↳ username1 ofc she’s a brazilian

brunamarquezine Linda 💘💘

username6 don’t let lando norris find out

username7 LANDO X YN?? is this what i’m getting from this comments ??

↳ username2 more like lando thirsts over her but she ignores him

carlossainz55 No way! We should meet up

↳ yourinstagram i was about to text youuu carlitos

↳ username2 LOVE THEM

jacobelordi 😍

↳ username1 dream couple fr

alexandrasaintmleux FINALLY 🙌🙌

↳ yourinstagram can’t wait to see youuuu gorgeous sass won’t know what hit them

↳ username3 OMFG IT GIRLS MEETING

landonorris 🤤🤤😍

↳ username1 DUDE GIVE IT UP

↳ username2 LANDO PLEASE

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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat

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liked by username1, username2 and 8,649 others

f1gossip Lando was at Sass Cafe in Monaco tonight. Any theories of who the girl might be? 👀

view all comments

username1 MESSY LANDO

username2 he’s sooo 😭

username3 i need lando to look at me like that

username4 that happening to me could save me

username5 just fell to my knees

username6 isn’t that yn the brazilian model??

↳ username1 WAIT

↳ username2 you have a point

↳ username3 NO WAY 😩

↳ username4 wait a damn minute that’s her

↳ username5 WHY IS LANDO LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAY

username6 ooohhh i see 👀👀

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

iamrebeccad I have major fomo right now 🥲

↳ yourinstagram YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE

madisonbeer 😍😍😍

anokyai monaco loves you ✨✨

alexandrasaintmleux my new bff 💘💘

↳ yourinstagram i literally love you so much

landonorris miss you already 😍

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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat

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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 612,976 others

yourinstagram first time watching race cars 🏎️ good luck tomorrow to my dear friend carlitosss

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username1 OMGGGGG

username2 SHE WAS AT QUALI ?? SLAY

username3 wag energy

arianagrande 😍😍😍

username4 lando norris was found yelling

username5 THE FACT THAT SHES LANDO’S CRUSH THO

scuderiaferarri ❤️

username6 LANDO X YN FINALLY???

username7 she fits right in she should date lando

username8 WE NEED THE QUEEN AT THE SÃO PAULO GP

username9 the only girl that matters

alexandrasaintmleux Linda 😍😍✨

↳ yourinstagram eu te amo !

brunamarquezine 💘😍🙌

username10 BET LANDO FREAKED OUT

username11 okay but carlos looks so good

carlossainz55 Te quiero!

↳ yourinstagram 🥰🥰

iamrebeccad ❤️❤️❤️

landonorris the most gorgeous girl in the paddock

↳ username1 THERE HE IS

↳ username2 the fact that she has never ever acknowledged any of his comments has me dying

↳ username3 he has BALLS

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landonorris sent you a message request

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liked by username1, username2 and 11,390 others

f1gossip Landinho is in full summer break swing ! The driver was spotted in São Paulo tonight 👀

view all comments

username1 LANDINHOOO IS BACK

username2 UMMM AM I READING THIS RIGHT

username3 he did not....

username4 yn just give this boy a chance we all know you keep him hanging

username5 WE WON

username6 he speaks portuguese and all now

username7 this man istg

username8 suddenly brazil is his favorite country in the world

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

landonorris sent you a message request

yourinstagram started following landonorris

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liked by username1, username2 and 13,987 others

f1gossip Lando was spotted out and about in São Paulo tonight, but if you look closely, you might notice he's carrying a purse and a phone with a Rhode case. Was Landinho in a date with someone? 👀

view all comments

username1 LORD

username2 CUT THE CAMERAS

username3 lando dating a brazilian woman ?? UM YES

username4 IM SUDDENLY BLIND

username5 if it's not yn then we don't want it

username6 I NEED CONFIRMATION THAT HE WAS WITH YN

username7 oh to have lando norris carrying my purse and phone for me

username8 that's a MAN

username9 GOING INSANE

yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

madisonbeer girl you're so messy but ily

↳ yourinstagram nice case right? 😙

alexandrasaintmleux Are we finally twinning in the paddock?

↳ yourinstagram we'll seeeeeeee

carlossainz55 Excuse me?

↳ yourinstagram hi carlitos

↳ carlossainz55 You really gave that muppet a chance?

↳ yourinstagram what can i say, he's persistent

landonorris Linda 😍😍

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liked by landonorris, bellahadid and 1,287,399 others

yourinstagram i heard something about race cars in são paulo?

view all comments

username1 STUNNING

username2 that's not face card that's face economy

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍🙌

username3 LANDO THIS IS YOUR CHANCE

username4 future wag?

username5 COME ON LANDO SHOOT YOUR SHOT ONE LAST TIME

username6 if the rumors about her and lando are real....

madisonbeer my queen actually 💋

username7 THIS IS WAG MATERIAL

username8 how funny woud it be if she starts dating another driver when lando has been begging since forever

username9 LINDA

userame10 and when the queen graces interlagos with her presence

landonorris 😍😍😍

↳ username1 LANDOOOO

↳ username2 i respect him

↳ username3 you better win that mf race

liked by username1, username2 and 4,088 others

f1gossip Our eyes are not fooling us, Brazil's national treasure is at the Interlagos circuit paddock with Lando Norris right now

view all comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 yall don't know the lore

username3 he actually did it....

username4 LANDO NORRIS I NEVER DOUBTED YOU

username5 i used to pray for times like these

username6 HES SOOOOOOOO

username7 lando norris the man that you are

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,098,765 others

yourinstagram i told him we could hard launch only if he scored a podium in my country and he didn't so you'll never know who's this fine man 😙

view all comments

username1 STOOOOOPPP

username2 MESSY

username3 girl we know that's lando you fell for his charms

sabrinacarpenter 👀👀👀

username4 LANDO NORRIS YOU CHAMP

iamrebeccad 😂😂😂

username5 never doubting little lando norris again

brunamarquezine NO WAY

username6 im so lost whats going on

username7 from not getting a follow back to this LANDOOOO

carlossainz55 Ay dios mio 🤦‍♂️

↳ yourinstagram we love you carlitossss

↳ username1 i bet he refused to be lando's wingman so many times

bellahadid we have some catch up to do

username8 plot twist this is not lando

username9 THIS PICTURE IS SO HOT

username10 most iconic couple already

landonorris i wonder who that fine man could be

↳ username1 LANDO YOU DO THE HARD LAUNCH

↳ username2 i bet he's living

landonorris o mais linda 😍😍

↳ username3 LANDINHOOO

liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 1,898,375 others

landonorris lost the podium but won something else. obrigado 🇧🇷

view all comments

username1 OMFG

username2 THIS MAN ISTG

username3 lando norris you're one little menace

charles_leclerc FINALLY

↳ georgerussell63 After years of being rejected

↳ danielricciardo Look at our boy go 🙌

↳ username1 HEEEELPP THEY ALL KNEW

maxverstappen1 You owe me...

↳ username2 I NEED THE LOREEE

mclaren 🧡

username4 THIS IS TOO ICONIC

username5 okay she's gorgeous

username6 persistence is key i guess

username7 HEEELP HE JUST COULDN'T WAIT

username8 lando dating a brazilian is such a win

yourinstagram you're a cutieeee i guess

[dotthings]

Okay. So let me sum up recent events (with the help from a friend who lives in Brazil): Destiel has gone canon again, this time in Brazil, at CCXP 2024. Misha didn't say anything we haven't heard him say on other con stages, but it's always delightful to hear it again. Also if I'm not mistaken, this is the first time it's been said in Brazil, and Misha said this at a huge comic con. Misha spoke about Bobo approaching him in S14 about the confession and how Cas would confess his love to Dean, "not like a brother, like a lover." Misha also talked about how proud he is of the scene for representation. Warner Channel Brazil uploaded the clip where he talked about representation to their profile, so Cas being queer and in love with Dean is right there on the profile of a big tv network in Brazil. Antis are very very angry about these developments and at Misha for speaking on the pov of his own character and actual things that actually went on behind the scenes. Denialists are in the replies on Warner Channel Brazil wailing how Dean is straight, even tho Misha only talked about Cas's pov. A Rogue Journalist at Folha Sao Paulo, which is a very major newspaper in Brazil, reported Misha's comments accurately, but then grabbed the ball and ran all the way down the field, with a headline saying "Dean and Cas became a couple" and that Cas "died in the beloved's arms." Which Misha did not say. Misha only spoke on Cas pov and did not say that, but his antis and the anti-destiels don't care so they're attacking a major Brazillian newspaper over a ship.

And that's what you missed on Supernatural season 16.

[cressidagrey]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 7 (The End)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining. 

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

"Did you really throw Lewis of your Christmas Cookie list after Silverstone 2021?!" Max asked Ariel, his eyebrows climbing into his hairline after reading that particular text message.

Ariel didn't even bother looking up from her breakfast, as she was scrolling through her own phone.

"Yep," she said, popping the p. "I crossed him off my Christmas cookie list for two years. No cookies for Lewis."

Max looked at her, his expression a mix of amusement and bewilderment. "Two years?" he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

If she had thrown Lewis of her christmas cookie list for two years, there was no chance that Lando was getting any cookies this year. "That seems a bit harsh, don't you think?" he said carefully, but Ariel just shrugge. 

“I am very aware that your job has its dangers,” Ariel said drily. “This wasn’t about what happened on track. I was making a point.”

Max’s lips curving upwards slightly at her words. "What point were you trying to make, schatje?" he asked, a hint of mirth peeking through his nonchalant tone.

Ariel finally looked up from her phone, bluish-green eyes that never could quite decide which colour they wanted to be, mustering him. Her expression serious. "The point was about respect. You could have died. You battled severe vision problems for the rest of the season. And Mercedes was talking about it like it was a lesson you were finally being taught. Lewis wasn’t the only one on a cookie ban. Everybody at Mercedes was," Ariel said sharply. “Because their behaviour after that crash was completely unacceptable. I decided that a two year ban without my cookies was enough to drive that point home."

Max's amusement turned into a full-fledged smile at her explanation.

"So, Mercedes' team didn't get cookies for two years?" he asked, clearly trying not to laugh. Ariel arched an eyebrow, a defiant look in her eyes.

 "Yes, exactly," Ariel replied. "No one from Mercedes received any Christmas cookies for two years. And let me tell you, Lewis was heartbroken."

Max couldn’t help but laugh then, the sound deep and rich. The image of Lewis' disappointed face, finding out he was on her ban list for two years, must have been a sight to behold.

"I bet he was," he said, his laughter slowly subsiding, even when he couldn’t help but smile at her. 

This was Ariel in a nutshell. She had always, always been unapologetically in his corner. There had never once been a question about her loyalty. She may called him out on his bullshit, but she was just as willing to go to bat for him. 

"You're ruthless when it comes to your cookies, you know that?" he told her with a smile. 

She inclined her head. “I have my principles,” she said simply. "And those principles include doling out cookie-related punishments when necessary."

Max shook his head, completely smitten. 

"Oh, I know very well how protective you are of your principles," he said with a hint of tenderness in his voice. "And I love that about you." Max leaned back in his chair, his expression becoming more serious.

"But I have to say, it's touching that you were so upset by what happened during the race that you decided to ban everyone at Mercedes from your cookie list. But two years is a long time without cookies, schatje."Ariel seemed unrepentant, her defiant side shining through in her expression. “You didn’t need to do that. I am tougher than I look,” he told her with some amusement. 

"They were lucky it was only two years," she snorted, her voice holding a note of irritation. "I was thinking about a lifetime ban."

Max chuckled again, amused by her determination. 

"Lifetime?" he repeated, the word hanging in the air. "You really didn't pull any punches, did you?" She just shrugged, just as her phone vibrated. "Any reason why Victoria is texting me to tell you to call your Mom`?" she asked drily, after a short look at her phone. 

Max rolled his eyes, even as Ariel’s phone pinged again. And again.

"Lewis did apologise about the betting pool by the way," he informed her and Ariel just snorted. 

"He is worried about getting blacklisted again," Ariel told him sagely, and he couldn't help but laugh. 

"I'll get my laptop," Ariel said softly as she stood, leaning down to drop a kiss against his hair and Max couldn't help himself but to pull her into a proper kiss. Max pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist with ease.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. A smile played across his lips as he spoke.

"You know," he murmured, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier note. "I could get used to having you here. In my lap. Anytime." He didn't want this moment to end. He could feel her breath against his neck, her fingers tracing small circles on his shoulder.

He was about to pull her in for another kiss when her phone pinged again, breaking the blissful bubble of intimacy they had created. "Call you Mom," Ariel told him pointedly as she stood.

Max chuckled, reluctantly letting her go. "Spoilsport," he teased, but his eyes were full of affection.

He reluctantly picked up his own phone and dialled his Mom's number. His mother answered on the second ring. 

"Maxie! You took your time to call," she scolded him immediately. 

He had. Mostly because he had no idea what to say.

What was Max supposed to say?

He had won a race. He had finally figured things out with Ariel...

And he was quite sure that the next time he tried to talk to his father it wouldn't end well at all, because his father had laid his hands on Ariel. And that was simply unacceptable as far as Max was concerned.

He opened his mouth to respond but his mother continued, talking over him in her typical, motherly way. "Are you alright?" she asked abruptly, her voice filled with worry. 

He wasn't about to lie to her. "I...I am getting there," he admitted, his voice rough. "Did you see..." his voice broke before he could bring out the words.

"Yes. I saw," his mother said darkly. "Everybody saw, Max. Sky kept a camera onto the whole...thing. I am so sorry," she apologised to him and he couldn't stand it. First Ariel apologised to him about what his father did, then Victoria and now his mother. 

He couldn't stand it.

Max felt a sudden flare of anger as he thought about the cameras catching the whole scene at the garage, his father's behaviour on full display.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his thoughts.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly, his voice betraying his emotions. "You don't need to apologise for him."

His mother was quiet for a moment, her voice softer when she spoke again.

"I know. But you are my son and I..." she trailed off, seemingly lost for words.

Max could sense her struggle, her own emotions warring through the phone."I'll be fine," he reassured her, his own voice quivering slightly. He appreciated her concern, but he didn't want to add to her worry.

He forced a light tone into his voice, trying to sound more like himself. "I'm a big boy,” he assured her. He was quite sure that his mother din’t believe a word he sai. 

"How is Ariel?" She asked him instead.

Max couldn't help the smile that tugged the corners of his lips. The mention of her name lifted some of the weight off his chest.

"She's...she's good," he said honestly. "She's handling everything better than I am, honestly."

He glanced over his shouler, back inside as they had ha breakfast outside on the balcony…and found Ariel with her laptop on her lap sitting on the couch. Her focus was intense, as usual, as she typed away.

"You two are good together," he heard his mother say, her voice gentle.  "I always thought so. At least one good thing came out of this whole mess," she said with a chuckle. “Even when it took you the better part of a decade.

Max's lips lifted in a small smile at her words, his eyes still trained on Ariel, his girlfriend. His girlfriend. 

He couldn’t quite believe it, but he adored every single moment of it. 

An he agreed with his mother. Despite everything, things between him and Ariel had turned out for the better. She was here, in his room, as his girlfriend and he was glad for it.

He couldn’t imagine to going back to being just friends, to not be able to reach out an pull her into a kiss…to not hear every single soft noise that escaped her as he pressed his lips to hers…

"Yeah," Max agreed quietly. "One good thing, indeed.”

"Look after her," his mother said, her tone now taking on a more serious note. "I know you will. But take care of her. And yourself while you're at it."

Max felt a warm rush of gratitude wash over him. His mother's concern never failed to touch him, no matter how old he was.

"I will, Mom," he assured her, his voice softened by affection.

"...What will you do with your father?" she asked him curiously.

Max's smile faded at her question, his thoughts turning dark once again.

He had been avoiding thinking about his father, not wanting to deal with the complicated mix of anger and hurt he felt. But he knew he could not run from it eternally.

He took a deep breath, his voice quiet and rough. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I can't just...I can’t just let it go, Ma. Not this time. He laid his hands on her," he added, his voice filled with a burning anger that he couldn't suppress. The image of his father's hand connecting with Ariel’s soft face… it was making him utterly furious. 

His fingers clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. "I can't just forgive that."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, a heavy pause that carried the weight of his words.

When his mother spoke again, her voice was gentle, "You don't have to forgive him, Max. No one will force you to."

"Vic can do whatever she wants, obviously," Max continued. "But I am done. I don't want him anywhere near Ariel. I don't want him anywhere near my family."

His mother was silent for a moment again and he knew she was just processing his words.

"You are serious," she said quietly, her voice holding a hint of awe. "You really mean it, don't you?"

"Yes," Max answered firmly, his voice sure and steady. "I've had enough, Ma. This...this was the last straw."

He closed his eyes, his stomach turning at the thought of his father's actions.

"He laid his hands on her. I can't ignore that. I won't."

His mother was quiet for a moment, digesting his words. He could practically feel her surprise. His relationship with his father had never been easy and she knew that from personal experience.

Finally she spoke again, her voice careful but firm. "And what if he doesn't take your decision well?"

Max couldn't help the weary sigh that escaped him. He knew his father well enough to know that this would probably turn into a shitstorm.

"I know he will get angry," he admitted, his voice low but unwavering. "He always does when I don't just do as he says. But...this time I don't care."

“He can talk to my lawyers,” he said drily. Though he probably woul owe them truly ridiculous amounts of money to deal with his father when all was said and done.

His mother chuckled lightly at his words, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'm sure they will be looking forward to that," she said dryly.

Then she sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of years of dealing with her ex-husband. "He won't go down quietly. You know that, right?"

Max nodded grimly, his free hand clenching into a fist. "I know," he said, his voice heavy with the knowledge of how stubborn his father could be.

He had grown up with his father's temper tantrums and his endless list of demands. He knew all too well that his father would not accept his decision without a fight.

But Max was no longer the little boy who had to comply with his father's orders. He was a man, a fully grown adult, and he was determined to stand his ground, no matter what.

His voice was firm when he spoke again. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I’m done with letting him control my life. I won't back down ."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Max could almost see his mother nodding, her face a mixture of worry and pride.

"You're stubborn like him," she said suddenly, the amused tone back in her voice.

Max smiled, a brief moment of levity in this dark conversation. 

"You always were a determined little boy," his mother continued said, her voice filled with memories. "Even as a child, you never knew when to quit. I swear you're only getting more stubborn with age."

He couldn’t but chuckle quietly. His mother sighed.

"So you and Ariel," she changed the topic, trailing off leadingly. "Can I finally expect some grandchildren from you, then?"

Max almost barked out a laugh at the question. He was caught off guard by the sudden switch in conversation, but the subject wasn't an unwelcome one.

"Ma," he said, his voice tinged with both humor and incredulity. "One crisis at a time, please."

"It's a valid question," she said in response, her voice filled with feigned defensiveness. "I'm getting old over here."

Max rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his lips. "You're not THAT old," he teased.

His mother huffed at his words, amused but pretending to be offended. "I am old enough to be a grandmother, Max! I want to spoil some grandchildren before I'm too old to enjoy it."

Max chuckled, the lightheartedness of the conversation a welcome break from the heavy topics of their previous discussion.

"I'm not disagreeing with you," he said lightly. "But you're going to have to give me a little time. I just got her, you know."

His mother snorted at his words, her voice filled with a mother's knowing. "Oh, I know you well enough, Max Emilian," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Trust me when I say, it won't take long for you to put a ring on her."

Max rolled his eyes again at her words, but he couldn't argue with her logic. "We'll see," he said, his voice trying for a nonchalant tone.

The truth was, his mind had already started wandering down that path of its own accord. But he wasn't going to admit that to his mother just yet.

"You keep telling yourself that, Max," his mother said with a laugh, her tone filled with maternal certainty. "In a few months, I will have another daughter."

Max chuckled at her words, the thought sending a jolt of excitement through his chest. The idea wasn’t as scary as it should have been.

"You are awfully sure of yourself," he teased, his voice tinged with amusement.

"I know my son," his mother said simply, the affection in her voice clear. "And I know how much you love that girl."

Max felt a lump in his throat at her words, the truth of her statement hitting him hard. He loved Ariel with all his heart, more than anything in the world. He couldn't deny that.

"Ma..." he began, his voice growing a little rougher.

"It's alright," she said gently, understanding the emotions behind his words. "You don't have to say anything. Just...take care of each other, yeah?"

Max nodded, his throat too tight to form words. He knew what she meant, the unspoken worry for the road ahead. But he was determined to face it together with Ariel.

"I will," he managed to speak, his voice filled with determination and love for her. "I promise."

"Good, Maxie," his mother said, the nickname making him feel like a child again. But he didn't mind. In his mother's eyes, he would always be her little boy.

She paused for a moment, then added, "I'm so proud of you, Max. You know that, right?"

Max felt a wave of emotion wash over him at her words. To hear his mother say that to him, in this difficult time, meant more to him than he could express.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice a mixture of gratitude and love. "Yeah, I know."

He felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Despite everything that had happened, despite the storm on the horizon, he knew he had his mother's love and support. And he had Ariel. He was not alone. 

His mother's voice was soft when she spoke again. "Go back to your girl now," she said, a hint of humor back in her tone. "She's probably wondering what's taking you so long."

Ariel’s email inbox was an absolute nightmare

She couldn't stand the sight of it anymore.

Between the concerned emails from friends, the offers of support from colleagues, and the endless messages from people she had never even interacted with, her inbox was a swirling mess of sympathy, curiosity, and unsolicited advice.

She hated it.

With a sigh, she shot off a message to her friend Madeleine, making some plans to see each other sometime before Christmas...something which hopefully would involve more than one strawberry daiquiri.

(God, she really could do with one right now.)

She also had no idea what to do with the sprawling apology that she was quite sure Lando had either asked ChatGPT or Oscar to help him write. 

She wasn’t sure which was more likely and less weird. 

(Ariel also wondered if it was only about her christmas cookies…but she was willing to cut some slack…maybe.)

Other than that...it was still a nightmare. Ariel started to copy paste her response to every single media inquiry, which was that she was very much fine and very much not interested in talking to any of the media outlets about what had happened between her and Jos Verstappen and also very much not pregnant.

The mere thought of having to talk to a horde of journalists, all eager for the next juicy story, was horrifying. 

She wasn't one to seek the spotlight, and the fact that she was suddenly thrown into the center of it against her will made her feel both irritated and violated.

Leaning back against the sofa, she took a deep, calming breath.She hadn't even "started" with her phone though. That one was also a nightmare of seemingly every person in her life deciding to blow it up with numerous messages. Some of it was really quite sweet. Some of it definitively wasn't though.

The amount of people reaching out to her felt almost overwhelming. Her phone was inundated with text messages, calls, and voicemails, all filling up her notifications to an almost dizzying degree.

Some messages were nice, filled with warm wishes and support. But there were also those that were much less pleasant, asking questions that were far too intimate. Some even seemed downright judgemental.(...Ariel’s list of people that were going to get cookies this year was definitively dwindling down.)

At this point, it was difficult to tell who was genuinely concerned about her and who was just trying to squeeze some gossip out of her. She found herself growing increasingly frustrated with each new message she read, the constant barrage of questions and inquiries making her head spin.

With a weary sigh, she put her phone down and scrubbed a hand over her face, feeling utterly exhausted both mentally and physically.The whole experience felt oddly voyeuristic, like strangers were peering into the most private corners of her life, trying to satisfy their curiosity without any regard for her feelings.

And she didn’t even dare to look at her instagram…or on tiktok. Or on the website formerly known as twitter. Until she did and then clicked away again immediately. 

Social media was a vast minefield of people throwing out comments that were anything but helpful. From armchair psychologists to self-proclaimed relationship experts, they seemed to know exactly what she should - and shouldn't - do.

"Hey."

She looked up to see Max join her on the couch, sitting next to her. He held out his arm for her and she pushed away her laptop to curl against him. 

The one good thing that was coming out of this drama was their relationship.

"Hey," she greeted him softly. "Good talk with your Mom?" Max nodded, his arm wrapping around her body and pulling her close. The feeling of her body against her was pure comfort. 

Ariel happily leaned against him with a sigh. 

"Yeah, she just wanted to know how we're doing," he said, his expression a mix of weary and affectionate. "She worries. You know how mothers are."

She did. There didn't pass a day where Ariel didn't miss her own mother.

She leaned her head against his chest, taking in the solidity of his presence. His hand began to move in soothing, lazy circles on her back.

"This isn't some sort of fling to me," Max told her suddenly. She was so surprised by his sudden change of topic that she could just stare at him. "I would probably marry you tomorrow, given the opportunity. I wasted 5 years, I am not wasting anymore time."

She could just stare at him, her mouth suddenly dry at this look in his blue eyes. It was…decisive. There was no other word for it. 

Max had mae up his mind. 

An his words made Ariel’s heart flutter in her chest.

"Max..." she began, not certain of what to say. 

Marriage wasn't something she had considered in the midst of all the drama. It had… well. It hadn’t crossed her mind. Not yet. Not while there were a thousand moving pieces all around them. 

“I just want to be with you,” Max told her fiercely. “We don’t have to do anything right now, if you want to take it slow. That’s fine. Anything you want is okay. But I am serious about us.” Max said, emphasising each word slowly and clearly.

He was serious, completely serious. The raw honesty in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"Max," Ariel said his name quietly, her voice thick with emotion. She searched his face, looking for even the slightest hint of doubt or uncertainty. But there was none. He was earnest, sincere, and utterly in love with her.

"I love you too," she whispered. "And I am serious about us too."

Max's eyes brightened at her words, his whole face lighting up with a smile. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer into his embrace.

"You mean that?" he asked, his voice filled with a slight tremor of disbelief and hope. 

"Of course, I mean that," she promised him softly. "I love you. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life doting on our two spoiled cats and stopping them from taking apart your Sim Rig. I can't wait watching you win races and knowing that you come straight home to me. And I can't wait to see what you'll do when you are done with it all and decide that you want to try out something new. I can't wait to grow old with you."

Max was stunned silent by her words, staring at her, swallowing. 

"That's all I ever wanted too. Just you, me, and our little monsters. Nothing more, nothing less,"he said, his voice catching.

"Maybe some kids too. Down the line," she teased him. She wanted that. One day. Max had always been amazing with children.

"You...you would want that?" he asked huskily. "You want children with me?"

Her hands rose to cup his face. "Of course," she said softly. "I want everything with you." 

 With him, the thought of children didn't seem so scary. It felt more like a promise of the future, a future that would be filled with love and laughter.

Max's arms around her grew tighter, desperate almost. He pulled her even closer, burying his face in her neck and inhaling deeply.

"I don't deserve you," he mumbled against her skin. "I truly don't."

Ariel gently cradled his head against her, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion. "Shush," she whispered. "Of course you do. I love you."

They simply sat there on the couch for a moment, wrapped up in each other. The world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away, and all that mattered were each other.

"I really want to go home," she said softly. "And cuddle Sassy. And Jimmy."

Max chuckled quietly and nodded into the crook of her neck. The thought of going home after the last few days sounded idyllic.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice muffled. "Let's go home."

(Author's Note: While this finishes off this particular installment, I am SO NOT FINISHED WITH THEIR STORY. It will be a series and I have A LOT of ideas. So I will wildly skip through the timeline 😅😂 (Also if you have ideas/prompts/suggestions, they are always welcome!)

[ctimenefic]

just had to write this out of my brain, I'm sorry pierresteban lorekeepers if I have fucked up the dynamic, I'll go back to my corner at once

2k of post-Brazil stuff tentatively titled something like slow lane, fast lane, parallel lines

Pierre didn’t pack a podium-worthy outfit for the triple header. Certainly not for Brazil. A party outfit, sure, in case Charles did well – that’s still fucked, a crumpled bundle rank with sweat at the bottom of one of his cases, shipped back home without him two weeks ago after Austin. He hadn’t seen this coming.

No one had seen this coming. 

He has to settle for a creased button up, undone so far the team will be able to see his heart still thudding against his ribs, hours after the last bubbles swirled away into the standing water on the track. It’ll do; he tries to smoulder into the mirror, but he can’t stop smiling. It’s just going to get soaked with sweat anyway, in whatever bar backroom they’ve secured. It was Harriet, he heard, shaking with hope from the moment the red flag came, ringing round Sao Paulo venues with broken Portuguese and her heart in her mouth.

It is strange, being alone for this clutch of minutes, to shower and shave and press cologne against his skin like anointing oil. The team had been all around him the moment he was out of the car, all the way to the hotel. Esteban next to him for hours, hip to hip. Pierre had been warm, despite the rain, the perpetual grey of track and sky.

The shirt is not so white that he’ll look filthy, later, if he’s touched. He undoes another button, just in case. Kiki said, once - if he won, and she wasn’t there. Then it was fine. She’d been joking, maybe, but he hadn’t pressed her. There are many beautiful men and women in Brazil. 

He goes down to the lobby early, already sick of the quiet. He wants the roar back, the force of it against his skin. He wants hands on his back, fingers on his neck, in his hair. Three girls from the team are huddled waiting for a taxi, by the doors, but they hover six inches away now, like without their uniforms he’s unsafe to clasp. Apart, again. 

Pierre drifts away, to the spot where the lobby leaks into a bar and - George Russell is there. As out of place as usual, squinting at his phone, folded up in an armchair that’s too low for him. It turns his knees into a ski slope. He only looks up when Pierre gets right up beside him; then he unbends upright, gets halfway to a handshake before he’s gripping Pierre’s shoulder instead. “Good racing, today,” he announces, like he hadn’t said it hours ago, dripping wet and still horribly sincere, all his natural animosities tucked away.

“Thank you,” Pierre replies, automatic. “I did not think Mercedes were slumming here though?” It is a fine hotel, but not so very nice. The lifts are slow. And Mercedes take up space. They have a sponsor deal, he thinks; some foolish video Charles had sent him last year with a string of emoji. 

Russell snorts. “No. Meeting Alex for our sad bastards dinner.”

Of course. Because for Mercedes, fourth is a disappointment. Which trophy did Russell imagine he’d be snatching today? Pierre’s? Max’s? He hopes Alex charges his meal to Russell’s card. 

“I am going out with the team,” Pierre offers. Immediately feels foolish. He meant- the point was to not invite Russell. It is fun, usually, being rude to him, watching his jaw tic. He is very English about it. 

Now, though, he seems unfazed. His eyebrows jump just a little. “I gathered.” 

His gaze drops briefly down the deep V of Pierre’s shirt. It is perhaps not an achievement with the most notorious homosexual on the grid, but still. There’s some satisfaction to it.

“Where are you- oh!”

The cooldown lap had felt a hundred years long, after an impossibly drawn-out race. Pierre had felt like he could count every drop of spray between his and Este’s cars. 

It is a little like that now, watching Russell’s eyes slide over his shoulder, the way his face changes slowly and utterly. Cheekbones lifted, so his eyes get a little smaller, the start of crows feet at the edges. The top of his face starts smiling before the rest catches up. His shoulders roll too, back and down and open. It happens in a blink, and yet it changes the whole shape of him. Like sunlight through clouds. 

Pierre doesn’t need to look round to guess what he’ll say next. “There he is,” Russell adds, regardless. “Have a good evening, Pierre.” He strides off before Pierre can find the right sniff for such an abrupt dismissal. 

He turns to wave at Alex, but he’s already turned back towards the lift, shoulders up around his ears until Russell slings an arm over them. He hears Russell teasing: “Don’t be a lazybones, Albono, you’re on the fourth floor, we can walk it.”

And then they are gone, and the girls from the team come to collect him for the car, and they are squashed up close enough that he does not have to think about it for too long. Just long enough. 

How many people look at him like sunshine? He had friends like that, once. More than one of them, once.

Tonight, he will say something gracious. Tell Esteban he raced better. That Pierre could not have caught him if he tried. (Perhaps not if he tried. Perhaps that is ungracious. Perhaps he should not remind Esteban that he is the better teammate. That he is keeping the team.) He has a whole taxi ride to find the right words, the olive branch that Esteban will not reject, or discard, or ignore.   

They will hug, and it will not be the last time. The Haas is not so bad; that will help. And ten, or twenty years from now, Pierre can walk into a room somewhere in France, some gathering of old men who raced fast cars, and someone will smile to see him. 

It is twenty minutes to Harriet’s bar. By then he can see it; where in windswept Normandy it will be. Snow on the ground and overcast. He will keep most of his hair, he decides, somewhat against the odds; he gives Esteban a little gut but fewer lines, no jowls. Silver in his stubble, but not his hair. Comfortable shoes. Bracelets on their wrists. 

The bar is good, for a last minute get. The staff on the door know his face, gesture him through. There are beautiful people in clusters, grapes on the vine, ready for picking. And on the dancefloor, Alpine, Alpine, Alpine. In the centre of it, Esteban, tall even there. 

There’s a whoop from near the edge of the throng as someone spots him - one of the pit crew, Marc. It spreads, fast, a sea of heads turning his way, a cheer Pierre thought he might not hear again. They tug him in, hands on his shoulders, back, feet already bouncing, the strange wistful sadness in his stomach already lifting as he raises his hands, shouts with joy and-

Esteban looks across to Pierre and smiles like clouds parting.

---

The carpet in the hotel stairwell has a dizzying pattern, geometric but impossible for the eye to follow. Or perhaps only impossible for someone who has been awake for 24 hours now, staring at it in the half-dark of emergency exit signs. But Pierre has to try, has to trace the thick black lines up and left and down over and over, or the choking gluk sounds Esteban is making round his cock will drive him mad. Tip him over ten seconds into the best-worst blowjob of his life. 

They had taken the stairs because it would be quicker than the ancient lifts. Not quick enough, for Esteban. Despite the risk, Pierre does not want to make up the distance. He wants this to last.  

Esteban pulls off for a moment; his smile is a slice of white in the darkness. Pierre doesn’t mean for his hand to drop to his face, thumb along his bottom lip, down his chin, but it does so anyway. He catches Esteban’s spit on his thumbpad; sucks it into his own mouth. There’s salt to it. 

“You are very wet for me,” Esteban murmurs, matter-of-fact, and Pierre gives up on the carpet, shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back into the corner with a thunk. He has been wet all day, drenched in rain and champagne and sweat. What is one more? He can feel it, the way precome rolls down the underside of his dick to Esteban’s fingers, until Este’s tongue drags back over him, a long side up the inches he cannot fit in his hand. 

(“It’s bigger,” he’d said, and Pierre had failed to hide his smirk. He hadn’t made it up, tripod. And Esteban’s hands are bigger now, too.)

His shirt is undone, bunched at his elbows where hands - some familiar, some strange - had dragged it down to trace the shape of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his arm muscles. He’d tugged it back up in the car back, but not enough to stick, not with Este’s long fingers at his neck. It makes him feel on display now, naked from his thighs up, Esteban’s dark head the only modesty he’s been afforded. 

He’s cold where Esteban had slicked down his happy trail with his tongue. It makes him shiver when Este gets back to bobbing back and forth, and his hair whispers over Pierre’s stomach. He has been touching him all night, never a hand off him, and yet Pierre is still so sensitive to each new collision. He can feel Este grin, smug, around him, like he’s noticed. It doesn’t rankle like it should. 

Esteban divebombs down Pierre’s dick again, and he comes before he can get out a warning, choking on thick air, hot and tight in his lungs. Este surfaces seconds later, cracks Pierre’s mouth open with a finger and thumb on his jaw, and feeds him his come in long, loving licks around his teeth. He’s still got his other hand wrapped around Pierre’s softening dick. As Pierre blinks up at him, stupefied, those clever fingers slide to cup his balls instead. A single digit taps at his taint. 

“Dry here,” Esteban muses. Pierre’s mouth falls open, panting. He thinks his come must still be gleaming on his tongue. He can still taste it. “We can fix that.”

And then there is light, crashing through the dark, as the door to the stairwell on the floor above opens, and the perpetual glow of the corridor shines through. Pierre clutches Este to him like cover. The bastard still has all his clothes on, at least, even if Pierre’s bare thighs are obvious either side of his too-skinny frame. 

The shaft of light falls a little to their left, not quite a spotlight. Perhaps they will not be noticed. Perhaps there is still enough luck for one more miracle. 

Soft steps, on the stairs. And then-

“Fuck,” someone hisses from above them. 

Not someone. Familiar. Far too English. 

Someone who should not be in the stairwell of the Williams team hotel at 4am. But. Pierre is in no position to throw stones. His stones are still in Esteban’s large, warm hand. 

Esteban is being no help. He snickers into Pierre’s neck for a moment, so lightly his lips barely leave his skin. Then: “Take the lift, George,” he calls, apparently deciding plausible deniability is for other motherfuckers. 

His voice is a little rough. Well-used. 

Russell, at least, understands how to play the game. It is silent, except for the hurried steps up and away. The whine of the door. 

“Shit,” Pierre groans. Esteban’s finger presses again at the space between his arse and his balls. “Shit,” Pierre says again. It echoes differently. Higher. 

Esteban is snickering again. “Always so dramatic,” he chides. But his hands are gentle as he pulls Pierre’s slacks back up his legs; does up precisely one button on his shirt and slides his palms down the sides like that will make him presentable for the CCTV in the corridor. “Come on, two floors more to mine. I shall have to fuck you in the morning, you are too spooked now.” 

Pierre doesn’t like the needy sound he makes; Esteban’s eyes gleam. He won’t beg for it, but: “When is your flight?” Pierre’s is late, commercial. They book different flights, more often than not. Esteban’s gaze wavers for a second. But only down to Pierre’s mouth, his navel, and back up. 

“The same. It is the same. I asked- said to change it. After. At the track.” Este must bite his lip – his bottom teeth disappear for a moment. Pierre wants the light back, wants to see his face. “We were-” he says the rest with his hands, palm to palm, parallel – two cars moving in sync around a curve. “And in the cooldown. You smiled at me.”

“I smiled?”

Este huffs. It is just enough like his cruel silences to make Pierre feel alert again, hands twitching to grasp a wheel he cannot see.  “I cannot change it back. It will be sorted by now.” 

There is an inch between them that has not been there all night. Esteban’s weight shifts, like he means to step back further. Pierre has to lunge for him, cram their mouths together. They had not done this at the bar. Touching, yes, everywhere they could get away with, but this was different. Private. 

Este whines a little into the kiss. His fingers get grabby again.

“Fuck me now, and later,” Pierre demands against his mouth. Esteban nods; in the dark his lips leave a smear against Pierre’s temple. 

His echo sounds like a promise. “Now and later.” 

[sexatoxbridge]

There's never a time I listen to I Would and don't get confused when I hear Louis say "cause I can't compete with your boyfriend" instead of "my boyfriend"

[uzurimisery]

translation: kiss me. / hinata shouyou x reader

Hinata Shouyou’s schedule was packed. Delivery job, language tutoring by his roommate, and practice. Short on cash and not wanting to burden his mom, he picks up another job at an acai shop. It’s mundane and boring but at least he’s got a cute coworker to keep him company and help practice his language skills. 

A/N: This fic has a language barrier written in Hinata’s POV. The words he doesn’t know, if not translated by someone in the story, will appear as “.....” to signify he doesn’t know what’s being said. Reader is Brazilian!

Part of the @interstellar-inn 'Help Wanted' mini-collab

“Hey, Shouyou!” The bells on the door jingled as Hinata threw it open with his shoulder, a volleyball under one arm and his bike helmet under the other, jumbling his volleyball gear between the two.

It was hot out today. 35 degrees Celsius, something like 88 if he did the math to convert it to Fahrenheit, sweat dripping down his neck and past his tank top, riveting down his freckle-covered back. You were behind the counter, in tiny shorts, a white short-sleeve button-up left open, and a blue bikini underneath, scooping acai puree into a to-go bowl, most likely a delivery or pickup order. He liked this one the most on you. The shade just complimented your skin so nicely. Made it seem golden as it shone from the layers of body butter and SPF you had on.

“Oh my god, it’s so hot today!” You grinned at him as he moved past the counter to the backroom to drop off his stuff.

God, you were so cute bobbing along to the Bossa Nova playlist you always changed it to at the start of your shift. While you didn’t mind the Sertanejo that the owner, your aunt, had going, you always said that Bossa Nova was better, more lively, and reminded you of childhood joy and dancing around with your Avô in your grandparents' apartment in Sao Paulo every summer you’d go and see them. You told him he’d understand it better the longer he lived here and became “Brazilian” like you.

Hinata chucked to himself as he returned to the front, free of all his baggage, a towel now draped over his shoulder.

“How are you?” Every time you looked at him and gave a gummy smile like that he thought his heart might burst as the apples of your cheeks eclipsed your eyes, joy palpable in your every feature.

He leaned against the counter as he answered “I’m good, you?”

You turned, reaching to scoop some coconut onto the bowl, referencing your order ticket. “I’m great now that you’re here!” you replied, still moving to the rhythm of Agua de Beber, the movement of your hips drawing his eyes.

You really had the moves. 

“How was practice?” you were facing him again, an eyebrow raised, totally catching him in the act of staring at your ass. A flush crept across his face, hoping that you hadn’t caught a good enough look at him as he came into the shop and he could blame it on the sun.

“It was good! Heitor and I are really getting into the uh…” he trailed off, searching for the word.

“Fluxo?” You supplied, dumping the coconut into the left side of the bowl, next to the bananas. You were always so systematic with how you constructed the bowls. Hinata’s focus was distracted as you turned to the back wall, standing on your tippy toes shorts riding up a bit, reaching for the milk powder. He liked the way your legs looked.

“Huh?” He moved quickly and grabbed it for you. Every day he was glad your aunt had it on a top shelf. 

“Thank you, ninja,” You giggled as you took the container and scooped out some powder. “Fluxo. You know? Like a river.” 

Hinata thought for a second, going through his context clues, piecing together the meaning of the word bit by bit.

“Oh!” It clicked. “Flow! Like a river.”

“Exactly.” He liked it when he got things right, your praise was a dopamine rush. The corners of your eyes crinkling with warmth. It made him feel like he was on top of the world.

“Hey, maybe you could come to our next game?” Hinata suggested, feeling a little bolder from your giggles, a hand still coming to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’d love that!” Your eyes lit up as you replied. “Let me know when and where?” 

“I will.” The promise was easy, the thought of you sitting on the sidelines cheering him on. If he’d won maybe he’d convince you to go get dinner with him too. 

The work day continued normally, the sun dipping lower in the sky, the two of you beginning to wrap up closing as it did. The golden glow seeped through the windows as you wiped down the counter. So mundane, but Hinata swore you never looked prettier. Stray curls in your face, a few caressing your neck. You had thrown your hair up during the middle of the shift, complaining how your neck was too hot with it down. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even as he stacked the chairs together, flipping them upside down on the tables so he could mop. The way you moved, the gentle concentration on your face as you cleaned and organized. It made his heart flutter like crazy. Gave him the same adrenaline rush as being on the court almost. 

As the last customers left,  the two of you wrapped up cleaning. A comfortable silence between you punctuated by the soft musings of Elis Regina in the background. 

“Almost done,” you called out, pulling the cash from the register and depositing it in the safe. “Ready for the beach?”

“Always.” He grabbed his stuff from the back, leaving his volleyball gear for morning practice near the shop, and the two of you walked out of the shop. The two of you were going to a beach party Heitor organized. 

Your excitement was contagious to him. “Me neither. Let’s get out of here!” You cheered as you locked up the shop.

The walk to the party was a short 15 minutes. It was near where they normally practiced, but a span of umbrellas and fold-up tables were set up there. 20 or so people were strewn about, some were drinking under umbrellas, a caipirinha being passed around,  while others were dancing on the makeshift dance floor to some funk that had been created. Their laughter and conversations blending with the music. The small get-together was in full swing, the energy high. 

“Hey Heitor! What the hell is this music? Fuck, …… some better funk.” You called out as Hinata and you met up with Heitor, reaching out to hug him, followed by hugging Nice. Hinata missed a few words but could tell you were complaining about the music.

“........ my choice of music, huh?” Heitor threw his head back as he laughed, clapping Hinata on the back with a short greeting. 

You rolled your eyes, slipping off your button-up. “Because your taste in music is shit!”

“That’s it!” Heitor sprung into action and began chasing you around the party, sand flying up behind you. 

Nice laughed next to Hinata and turned to hug him, kissing his cheeks in greeting. “They’re always like this. Cats and dogs I swear.”

“Yeah, they are.” Hinata watched on as you and Heitor continued your chase. The party seemed more vibrant and full of life as you ran around screaming at Heitor. He didn’t understand a lot of what you said, but your energy was infectious with everyone picking up on it, laughing a lot more. Hinata couldn’t help but laugh along.

After a few minutes, you came to hide behind Hinata, your chest pressing against his back as you heaved heavy breaths. “Help me, he’s a monster.” Your words were breathy, ghosting around the shell of his ear. 

“I’m not a monster! You are just …… work out…… my teammate!” Heitor caught up to you, hardly labored from chasing you around.

He didn’t know what took over him, but he pivoted, bent at the waist, scooped you up over his shoulder, and began running away from Heitor. Nice fell over laughing as Heitor threw his arms up in betrayal. Hinata had one hand on your waist, the other placed on the back of your upper thighs, as you laughed as best you could while being breathless. 

Hinata didn’t run far, about 10 meters away from the party before setting you down. You dramatically fell back, letting yourself collapse against the warm sand, spread out like a starfish.

“My hero! Thanks for saving me,” You were still breathless as you spoke, smiling up at him. 

“Anytime.” He chuckled.

You reached up grabbing his hand to pull him down with you. He was scared of landing on top of you as he went down so he twisted his body to try and avoid it. But by some strain of misfortune, he moved in just a way that left him landing above you, hands catching himself, hitting the sand near your head, his knees landing between your legs. Caging you under him.

For a moment, the music and chatter of the party faded away as he stared down at you, his breath mixing with yours. You were so pretty. Big-eyed staring up at him, lips glossed and slightly parted. He was so close he could see all the little imperfections on your skin that made you so human.  His heartbeat picked up, the unexpected closeness setting him off. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper but making no move to get off of you. 

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he wetted them, the pink of his tongue visible for a second. 

“It’s okay.”

Neither one of you moved, afraid to break the spell. Hinata swore he could feel electricity sparking in the air. That he could feel his pulse echoing in his heart, mimicking the rapid beat of the far-off music. He traced the contours of your face, committing the small details to memory, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. 

His hands itched to move, to touch you more, to wrap around your own. The intensity he felt was mirrored in your eyes. He wanted to close the gap. Feel the soft press of your lips against his own as you lay there wrapped by the ocean breeze. 

“Posso te beijar?” You asked him, eyes switching between his own eyes and lips.

He was so frazzled. “I, uh, I don’t understand.” God he wished he was fluent.

You grinned, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’ll show you.” 

He nodded, his heart beating fast. “Yes please.” He breathed his voice like a whisper.

The space between you disappeared as your lips met his in a tender kiss. It was soft and sweet and tasted like your vanilla lip gloss. The gentle press of your lips sent a shiver down his spine, the months of yearning settling in his belly as a swarm of butterflies. 

©️ uzuzrimisery

[anshiiiiin]

This is a comic about my characters from my Boring Story. Sao survived a traimatic event and is mentally disabled. For more than 12 years he always replied yes to any questions starting from "do you want" or "would you like" etc. (here is a comic touching on it https://anshiiiiin.neocities.org/boring%20story/18-bs-always-yes/bs-always-yes.png )

Other 2 guys from the comic deeply care about Sao, and the fact that more than a decade later he feels safe enough to say "no" means the world to them.

[pitohuimaki]

and if i see one more person (man) say that asuna’s scene was unnecessary but not say a fucking word about leafa’s because hers was “hot” or it “doesn’t count” i’m gonna start killing people

do sao fans on twitter even like sao

[nichknack]

I finished the first SAO novel, Kirito and Asuna definitely have more personality than they do in the anime. Like. A lot more.

However, uh, the villain actually has a motivation in the novels??? In the anime when he’s asked why he made SAO he replies “I forgot.”

But in the novel he says that even he sometimes forgets and then it’s made clear that he made the death game because he wanted to make his paracosm truly real.

Like. That’s so much better than “I forgot lmao”

[noturlesson]

Yall think Sal likes anime? (A drabble)

I feel like he would watch it occasionally since he likes watching cartoons but he's not super into it. He probably started off with SAO or smth and was like this shit lowkey kinda mid.

You would probably be the one to get him into some other shows tho. Maybe smth like Nana? I think he would like Nana a lot, maybe even draw fashion inspo from it???

Omg imagine you guys start watching it together but he watches it on his own bc he got impatient waiting for you and he's too invested in the plot. You whine and pout about it bc it's supposed to be a bonding activity but he replies all sassy like "Maybe you shouldn't have taken so long dick head 🙄💅"

You can't even argue back bc he's lowkey right, but it's ok cause you force him to watch all the episodes with you again.

He definitely gets worked up over what happens in the show, yelling at the screen and going on rants whenever a character does something stupid.

[khruschevshoe]

OFMD Critique: Bad Faith, Fandom, and Respect

All right. You know what? Screw it. I saw one post I just cannot ignore anymore that encapsulated all of my problems with the fandom right now. Personal rant incoming.

I understand that there's a nuance to the discussion of season 2 of Our Flag Means Death, and that there are people going a little too far with both their critiques and their support of the show. But oh my God, I'm tired of being straw-manned and made fun of for legitimate critiques of the show.

I just used the block button on someone in this fandom for the first time. Some of you might think I'm overreacting for this, but I saw a post that I could not on any level stand. This person, who I will not name names of, because I'd rather just block them and never deal with their level of bad faith again, took their one legitimate criticism of those of us who critique the show, the back and forth on whether or not Izzy's death was homophobic or not, and used it as the first in a literal list of straw man critiques that no one I've read in the OFMD Critical tag has made (and I check it like once a day bc I like reading meta, sorry), proceeding to absolutely make fun of the legitimate critiques that people have of the show, parodying them in the worst possible ways. They took our legitimate critiques about everything from the sexist handling Zheng Yi Sao's character, the absolute ableism of the finale, the questionable optics of the handling of trauma, etc. and stretched them into things that they very much were not (two examples were that we were crying ableism bc of something to do with seagulls and that we thought the problem in the Stede&Zheng dynamic was the "emotional labor" involved).

Now I'm pretty sure this post was a joke. I *think* it was a joke. But how in the world am I supposed to feel comfortable in the main section of a fandom like this when the comments and replies to this post were full of people agreeing sincerely that this is what the critical section of the fandom is like? How am I supposed to feel when I just see people making fun of me for my analysis of the show? I love this show. I adore season 1 and I'm clearly still making fan related content (moodboards) for season 2 along with my critiques.

Sure, I vibe way more with fanfiction than the actual canon at this point, but I still genuinely engage with the show. And to have the critiques that I made in good faith, regarding issues that I sincerely care about such as ableism, sexism, homophobia, and the handling of trauma, made fun of and taken out of context and straw-manned to their extreme, makes me feel so absolutely unwelcome in this fandom.

Other than keeping up with the couple of fan series that I'm currently still reading, I don't know if I can stay in this fandom any longer. I can't say that I'm excited for the new season if this is the kind of response that any good faith critique of the show is going to get. I can't say that I feel safe or comfortable when there are this many people ready to dog pile on me for a critique I made with ACTUAL TEXTUAL EVIDENCE to back it up.

I would like to thank all the people who have been making excellent critiques of the show. Their meta-analysis is what got me into making my own critiques, which I was nervous about making in any other fandom. I don't think I've in any way tagged them all, but just a few I can remember off the top of my head. Go read their critiques/meta- it's really good!

@sky-fire-forever @carrymelikeimcute @blue-b-bro @bougiebutchbinch @treesofgreen @sixstepsaway @alex51324

And from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who has engaged with my mood boards or my critiques or anything else that I've made, as well as the amazing writers and artists in this fandom (such as @ruecrown, @aletterinthenameofsanity, @fool-for-luv, and @possumsmushroom). You guys have kept me going with my love for the show and engaging with it for a while now. Despite the stuff that is making me take a step back now, I really did love this while it lasted! I'm still planning on making a few more mood boards, but other than that, I'm going to take a step back from engaging.

Hope this post can spread enough support/joy your way to counteract the ache I'm currently feeling!

Sincerely,

Ashley (aka @khruschevshoe)