#so nothing will stop him except penalties?

[f1-obsessed333]

[pucksandpower]

Something to Lose

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: when Lando starts driving like he has nothing left to lose after a stop-and-go penalty during the Qatar Grand Prix, you are left with no choice but to reveal that he does have something to lose … it’s currently growing inside you

Warnings: reckless driving and pregnancy

Based on this request

“Lando, calm down.”

Silence. The kind of silence that isn’t empty but buzzing with tension, the sound of static humming just underneath.

“Lando, you have to calm down.”

The voice over the radio is steady but edged with something close to panic. It’s Will, trying to sound composed and professional, but Lando doesn’t care. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel, the sweat pooling in the fabric of his gloves.

“I’m fine,” he snaps, voice tight.

“No, you’re not fine,” comes the clipped reply. “You’re driving recklessly. You’ve already been warned twice about track limits. If you don’t-”

“I know what I’m doing!”

He’s not shouting, not quite, but it’s close enough. The car ahead of him looms into view, and he narrows his eyes. He’s lost so much time, too much time. Thirty-five seconds feels like a lifetime in Formula 1, and every fiber of his being burns with the need to claw it back.

“Lando, please,” Will tries again. “This isn’t just about you. Think about the team. Think about the other drivers.”

Lando sets his jaw, foot pressing harder on the throttle as he moves into the DRS zone. He’s close enough now, gaining. He can feel the adrenaline surging, the singular focus that blocks out everything else.

Except-

“Lando, you’ve got to listen.”

This time, it’s Andrea chiming in. There’s an edge of frustration to his tone, like he knows Lando isn’t going to.

“I’m fine,” Lando says again, more clipped this time.

“You’re not.”

He doesn’t respond. The car ahead is his target, and everything else fades.

In the McLaren garage, it’s chaos. Will mutters something under his breath, Andrea runs a hand through his hair, and Zak looks close to knocking the pit wall over in frustration. The radio crackles again, another futile attempt to break through.

“He’s not listening,” someone says, their voice low but frantic.

And then-

“Get her.”

Heads snap around.

“Are you serious?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

The silence that follows speaks volumes.

A headset is shoved into your hand before you can ask any questions. The words come in a rush. "He’s not listening to us. He’s driving like … just can you talk to him? Please.”

You blink, stunned, your brain trying to process what’s happening.

“On the radio? But I’m not part of the team. You’re not allowed to-”

“We’ll take the fine. Just please. He’ll listen to you.”

You hesitate, the weight of the request settling on your shoulders. Your fingers tighten around the phone. Somewhere in the pit of your stomach, there’s a familiar twinge of anxiety.

“Fine,” you say finally. “Patch me through.”

The radio buzzes, and then you hear him.

“Lando,” you say, your voice soft but firm.

There’s a beat of silence before his response.

“What?”

Just that one word, sharp and irritated. But you can hear it beneath the surface — the crack in his armor, the flicker of something vulnerable.

“Hey,” you say gently. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and you press on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re scaring them,” you say. “The team. They don’t know what to do with you right now.”

“I’m fine,” he says again, the words rote, mechanical.

“No, you’re not,” you counter. “Lando, I know you. I know how you get when you feel like everything’s slipping away.”

His silence is louder than anything he could say.

“You’re trying to prove something,” you continue. “I get it. But you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“You don’t understand,” he mutters, voice low and strained.

“Don’t I?” You shoot back. “I’ve seen you like this before. I know how hard it is to let go when everything feels wrong, but-”

“It’s not the same,” he interrupts. “You don’t know what it’s like out here.”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“You’re right. I don’t. But I do know what it’s like to care about someone who doesn’t know when to stop. And right now, that’s you.”

He doesn’t answer, but you can hear his breathing, heavy and uneven.

You take a leap.

“Lando,” you say softly, almost a whisper, “think of the baby.”

The silence is deafening.

“What?” His voice cracks on the word, incredulous.

You swallow hard, your grip on the phone tightening. You hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t even meant to — but now that the words are out, there’s no taking them back.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I wasn’t going to tell you like this, but Lando, please. You have to stop.”

The radio is silent for a long, agonizing moment. Then-

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” you say quickly, your voice trembling. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Another beat of silence.

“Are you serious right now?” His tone is softer now, laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” you say firmly. “I’m serious. And I’m scared, Lando. I’m scared for you, for us, for the future. But right now, I need you to stop driving like you’ve got nothing to lose.”

There’s a pause, the longest yet, and you can almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.

“I didn’t mean to-” he starts, but his voice falters.

“I know,” you say, cutting him off gently. “I know you didn’t. But you’re not just racing for yourself anymore.”

He exhales shakily, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, almost defeated.

“Okay,” he says finally. “Okay, I’ll ease up.”

The tension in your chest loosens, just a fraction.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The radio crackles, and the team’s voices flood back in, relieved and frantic. Lando doesn’t say much, just listens, his responses clipped but calmer.

In the garage, the atmosphere shifts. People exchange glances, half-shocked, half-relieved.

Back on track, Lando slows, just slightly. His movements are still precise, aggressive — but controlled.

And in the garage, you stand there, the phone still clutched in your hand, your heart racing.

“Is it true?” Someone asks quietly, their voice barely audible over the chaos.

You look down, swallowing hard.

“Yes,” you say softly. “It’s true.”

***

P10.

Not a podium, not even close to the result he wanted, but after the chaos of the race, it feels like a victory.

The team cheers faintly through the radio, their relief palpable. Lando barely hears it. His mind has been somewhere else since your voice cut through the static, since your words landed like a punch to the chest.

“I’ll meet you in the garage,” Will says over the radio, but Lando doesn’t respond. The car rolls to a stop in parc fermé, and he yanks off his steering wheel with more force than necessary.

The marshals wave him over toward the mandatory weight check. He doesn’t even glance at them.

“Lando!”

Their shouts barely register. He’s already pulling himself out of the car, helmet in hand, visor still down. His focus is singular, tunnel-visioned: you.

The rules? The procedures? None of that matters. Not now.

“Lando, you need to-” one of the officials tries again, but he brushes past them, moving with the kind of intensity that no one dares challenge.

His gloves hit the ground first, discarded in haste, then his balaclava. The crowd around him blurs into nothing — team personnel, photographers, journalists — none of them exist in his world right now.

He reaches the McLaren garage in record time, his breaths coming fast and shallow. The second he sees you, standing off to the side with your arms wrapped around yourself, he freezes.

You don’t notice him at first, your gaze fixed on the ground, your foot nervously tapping. Then someone points, murmuring his name, and your head snaps up.

The moment your eyes meet, it’s like the rest of the world falls away.

“Lando,” you whisper, but before you can say anything else, he’s crossing the distance between you in long, purposeful strides.

“Is it true?” He demands, voice low but urgent.

You blink, caught off guard by the intensity of his tone.

“Is it true?” He asks again, softer this time, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your throat tightening. “Yes.”

His breath hitches. For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he pulls you into his arms, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear.

“You’re serious,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your hair.

You nod again, your cheek pressed against his chest. “I am.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still gripping your arms. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, but there’s something else there too — something softer.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” you reply. “I just … I didn’t mean to tell you like that, but you weren’t listening, and I was scared, and-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. For scaring you, for being reckless, for everything.”

You shake your head, tears welling up. “You don’t have to apologize. I just — I needed you to stop. I needed you to come back to me.”

“I’m here,” he says quickly, his grip on you tightening. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The moment stretches, the noise of the paddock fading into a distant hum.

“I didn’t mean to put you in that position,” he says after a beat. “I should’ve been listening to the team, to you-”

“Stop,” you say softly, placing a hand on his chest. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I just need to know you’re okay.”

His lips press into a thin line, and he nods. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“Good,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

“Neither do I,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

A laugh escapes him, shaky but real, and it’s like a weight lifts from both of you.

“Lando!” Someone calls from behind him. It’s Will, looking equal parts exasperated and relieved. “You skipped the weight check. You’re going to get a penalty … again.”

Lando doesn’t even glance back. “I don’t care.”

“Lando-”

“I don’t care,” he repeats, more firmly this time. His focus stays on you, his hands still resting on your arms.

“We should go,” you say softly.

“Not yet,” he replies, his eyes locked on yours.

The circus can wait. For now, all that matters is you.

[m1d-45]

for all to see

summary: fontaine’s court of law is questionable on a good day. on a bad day? well…

word count: ~1.2k

-> warnings: you die, blood mention, spoilers for fontaine archon quest (only names of things), potentially ooc neuvillette(?)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

despite being the nation of justice, fontaine was not known for its fairness.

trials took place in opera houses, the prosecution focused not on proving their claim, but to put on a show. the citizens didn’t care for the outcome if it wasn’t amusing, the archon known for throwing fits if things were too boring. to survive was to be entertaining, painting as many coats of shimmering blue over your soul until it was shiny enough to go outside.

obtuse laws hid around every corner. no floating objects for the first three days of each month. no fonta was to be brought into any government buildings, unless the date was a prime number, in which case it could be any flavor but strawberry. mechanical pens had long since been invented, but had to be classed as a meka, which required a permit that far outweighed the price of the pen itself.

nothing made sense. even neuvilette, as well versed in the law as he was, did not understand the reasoning behind most of these rules.

however, there was one that he backed entirely, the very first law ever established in fontaine—arguably in teyvat as a whole, the very notion of such a crime pulling disgust regardless of origin.

‘Any person or persons found to be impersonating the divine creator, with the exceptions of roles within an opera or other such performance, shall be punished with the full extent of the law, up to and including the death penalty.’

“defendant, do you have any evidence to refute ms furina’s claims?”

you said nothing, staring down at your hands. you’d stopped pulling at the cuffs that bound you to the railing, leaving you still as stone. your entire appearance was disheveled, a result of the nearly year’s long hunt for you. part of him felt pity, but he quickly dismissed it. you deserved this—provided you didn’t, somehow, have evidence to the contrary…

you looked up, overgrown hair falling into tired eyes. you were dirty, dark crusts of blood lining hairline scratches all over your face and arms. you didn’t say a word, but he found himself avoiding your sharp gaze quickly, inspecting your wrists instead. raw, angry, the metal cuffs unkind.

“if you wish to think, say so. if your silence continues, i will be forced to move on.”

you looked back down to the banister wordlessly, the crowd murmuring at your silence. he ignored them.

“we now turn to the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.”

the oratrice clicked and clunked, gears spinning and meshing as the machine drew its conclusion. blue faith filled the tubes within the walls, collecting, then were pulled back in relative quiet. now would be when the scales would return to normal, but he hadn’t heard them tilt at all during the trial… he pushed aside that train of thought once again. he was getting distracted too easily considering the importance of this trial.

he picked up the verdict from the oratrice, addressing the crowd. “according to the judgement of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, the defendant is…” his breath skips as he opened the small folder, something in his chest twisting violently. “…innocent?”

how?

furina sat up in a hurry, the audience clamoring for reasoning, but he barely hears anything. if the oratrice itself declared you innocent, then…

behind furina, his god also stands, cold eyes staring into the crowd. “calm down, everyone. it’s clear this fraud has simply tampered with the oratrice.” your head snapped up as neuvillette closed the pages from the oratrice, sending it back down the chute.

“my god, i can personally assure you that the defendant has not had the opportunity to-“

“silence.”

he bowed his head when they turned to him, mouth dry. something was off about the situation, but what?

“since we clearly have all the evidence in front of us, i think we can safely override the oratrice’s rule.”

“divine one, in fontaine law it clearly states that the oratrice-“

“and i’ve stated that it can be overruled. which is more important, fontaine’s laws or divine laws?” he couldn’t speak. “clorinde, my bow.”

he watched as clorinde produced a bow, as quiet as the crowd below. nobody could say a word—the death penalty hadn’t been imposed in fontaine for years… but this was a special case..

black steel arrows reflected light into his eyes as the creator pointed them at you, his heart thundering. the air was always polluted in fontaine, but it felt twice as oppressive now.

“chief justice. i can’t get a clean shot.”

neuvillette bowed once more, feeling cold. he weaved through the private hallways of the opera house, making his way to the defendant’s balcony.

he didn’t even know your name. you’d refused to give it- refused to say anything, really. how his god had arrived at this verdict was beyond him… but he could not overrule the divine. he opened the door to the balcony, uncertainly stepping to your side.

this was wrong. he could hear it begin to rain, water pattering against the windows, but all he could tangibly feel was confusion. he knew something was wrong, but what?

he lifted his hand but you beat him to it, lifting your head as you turned to face him. “step back,” you mumbled, and he found himself obeying in the split second before the arrow struck. bright blue blood flew into the air, landing right where he would have been.

you didn’t want him to get blood on his clothing.

the rain picked up, lightning striking close and shaking the floor beneath him. the whole house gasped, all eyes turned to you as you collapsed. he couldn’t look away, not when he heard the sound of a sword—clorinde’s, likely, furina was never one for a fight—or the shouts of the gardes. he was paralyzed, watching blue spread out beneath you, reaching the edge of the balcony and beginning to drip.

he’d known. he’d felt it. and yet he was powerless to stop your death, the one he- the one they all perceived as divine pinning down teyvat. he should have known from the moment they overruled the oratrice, should have seen the blue tint to your scratches, should have asked for more evidence before- before—

rain came down in hails, his hands shaking as he stared at the injustice before him.

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

Part II

➺Part I

It's been two days since your arrival at Al-Razeh. Maha, your PA, poured tea into your cup and hers, and you both sat down, enjoying the evening and relaxing on your estate's lawn.

"The weather is nice today, Ma'am," Maha said, taking in the cool breeze.

"Indeed," you replied, savoring the calm. After a moment, you turned to her. "By the way, you’ve lived here all your life, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered, glancing at you curiously.

"So... any folklore tied to this village? Since, you know, villages are known to be famous for such things." You smiled, lighting the mood with a bit of humor. “Often having their own stories.”

Maha chuckled softly at your inquiry and drew her chair a bit closer to yours. “Well, not exactly folklore, but there is this family. Personally, neither my family nor I are closely acquainted with them, but…” She took a sip of her tea, her words now capturing all your attention.

"They are the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family, they own general stores here, two of them. He has three sons. The oldest two are married and have children, but their youngest… he’s always been something of an enigma around here.”

Your curiosity piqued, you snorted softly. “An enigma?”

“Yes, ma’am, an enigma,” Maha’s voice took on a tone of anxious seriousness. “He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed. The situation was dire, his agonizing screams were reportedly heard throughout the quiet streets. This was happening around the time of his second brother’s wedding. Guests at the house, including those from the neighboring families, overheard the commotion. The disturbances along with conflicts within the family caused tensions to rise, and at one point, it nearly led to the engagement being called off. Fortunately, the wedding went ahead, but Habib was absent, cited as being ill by his family.”

You listened with growing intrigue, though a pang of sympathy tugged at your heart. Such occurrences were tragically real, and often, people not only suffered but sometimes perished.

"Let me guess," you said, shifting your gaze to Maha, "you mentioned he was--no, is--beautiful?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Then black magic? Possibly from relatives?" You inquired, noting the surprised look in Maha’s eyes.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "I mean, that's what most of the people think. The cleric himself when consulted by some of the village elders, particularly Kadir’s friends, didn't reveal anything except that it was indeed something paranormal."

"That's often the case with such situations," you remarked. "Clerics typically avoid naming names if it's a matter of black magic. If you discover the culprit on your own, that's one thing, but directly asking the clerics usually only gets you vague responses. Or maybe the family didn't want the details out."

Black magic presented a confusing challenge when it came to legal matters. The laws were clear, if someone was caught practicing black magic, they faced severe penalties. Yet, the shadowy nature of these practices often meant that many perpetrators remained hidden. Clerics, bound by their own reasons, often withheld crucial information about those involved. In villages like Al-Razeh, such issues could be predictably common. To you, black magic was not merely a mystical concern but a serious crime. The victims deserved justice, and those who perpetuated such malevolence needed to be held accountable.

“Ma’am, how do you know so much about these things?” Maha’s childlike curiosity brought a smile to your face.

“Nothing special,” you replied, “just a hobby. So, how is the boy now?”

"Oh! I missed a part," Maha said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "People, like you mentioned, initially suspected the relatives because that's common in cases of black magic. But his brothers were also under suspicion. They always seemed to harbor resentment towards Habib. After all, he’s the most beautiful of them, so it wouldn't be surprising if they were involved. Men too get jealous over these matters."

With a pitiful sigh, you set your cup on the table and leaned back. "It breaks one’s heart to hear such stories--family turning against family. This... magic stuff is no joke. Deep-rooted jealousy can lead to such tragic outcomes, tearing apart lives and families."

"Indeed," Maha agreed solemnly. "But it could just have been a normal possession and not caused by magic cuz like I said, he is said to be very beautiful. He's reportedly doing better now, but he hasn’t left the house since then. It might be the cleric’s advice, or perhaps it's his parents' protectiveness or... his brothers' doing. Some people speculate that he might have died."

“What? Died? But didn’t the cleric solve his problem?” you asked, puzzled.

“Yes, he did. It’s just a rumor--he can’t be dead. You can't hide something like that for so long. People who are the family's relatives and friends, have seen him inside the house. So, he’s definitely there.” Maha chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of such rumors.

"What about the cleric? He still here?"

"Oh no, he was from some other place. Kadir called him here for his son's treatment." You hummed and took in the information. Then a subtle smirk graced your lips.

“It could have been a lover, too,” you suggested casually.

“What?”

You petted Milo, your cat, who had jumped onto your lap. “It might have been a lover who cursed him, someone who wanted him. One of the leading cause for black magic."

“He was 16.”

You laughed, “So? She could have been 16 too. Who knows? Anyway, did you put the reports in my study?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, I’ll go freshen up.” You stood up, leaving Maha to enjoy her tea on the lawn. Your thoughts shifted away from the village story, focusing instead on the duties that lay ahead.

═════ ◈ ═════

Odai stepped into the small shop, removing his glasses as his gaze briefly settled on the figure behind the counter. What caught his attention were the eyes--unmistakably unique, as if they held a quiet depth. But the rest of the man’s face was hidden beneath a cloth, adding an air of mystery.

"Um, two packs of cigarettes." Odai glanced back at the car parked outside across the road. Through the tinted windows, he could see his reflection.

"I can't."

Odai’s head snapped back in surprise. Is he hearing things?

"Two packs of cigarettes, brother," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

But the man behind the counter shook his head again, those evasive eyes refusing to reveal more. What was going on?

"What?--what do you mean? It’s just a pack of cigarettes. Why are you saying no?"

"I-I can't sell them... I don't want to."

"Why? That’s your job! Why even own a shop then? Is this how you treat your customers?" Odai's frustration grew.

"No... I just don’t sell cigarettes... They’re harmful."

Was this man serious? Was he actually joking?

"Look, boy. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I need them, so I’m gonna ask one last time before I leave. Hand over the cigarettes."

But all he got in return was another silent shake of the head. That was it.

"Fine, keep running your business like this bud and you’re bound for success," Odai muttered, "And maybe don’t stock cigarettes in your shop if you’re not planning to sell them!"

He stormed back to the car, slamming the driver’s door shut accidentally. The noise made you glance up from your file.

"What’s wrong? Did you get them?" you asked, noticing his disgruntled expression.

"I’m so-rry, ma’am… um… the boy in the shop… he refused to sell. God, I can’t believe it--like, what even was that? But there's another store nearby so , we will go there." Odai stammered, frustration clear in his voice. Before he could shift into gear, you stopped him with a curious question.

"Wait, he refused to sell cigarettes?"

"Yes." Odai nodded, still baffled.

"That’s interesting. And did he say why?"

"They’re harmful." Odai’s ears flushed as he heard you chuckle softly. He wasn’t sure if you were annoyed or just amused by the whole thing.

"Now this is intriguing. Someone refusing to run their business properly... now that’s a case worth looking into." Still chuckling, you slipped out of the car before Odai could respond, but he quickly followed, his curiosity piqued.

Like him, you took in the scene before heading to the small counter tucked in the corner. There, the figure sat quietly, standing the moment you approached, his demeanor almost shy under your gaze.

"You’re the one who refuses to sell cigarettes because they’re harmful?" you asked, your voice curious yet firm.

He nodded. His eyes, though not meeting yours directly, seemed to speak in a language of their own--soft but full of meaning.

"Do you know who I am?" You wondered if the uniform might catch his attention.

A brief silence followed before his voice, barely above a whisper, reached you. "No.."

"I am the new DC."

"T-he DC?"

"That's right."

"I still… won’t sell." Odai huffed behind you, clearly irritated, but you hardly noticed. Your eyes softened, lighting up with quiet amusement at the childlike defiance. "Why? This is not how you run a shop, boy."

"I don’t want you....our… new DC to be harmed. I won’t let a pack… kill an honest officer."

For a moment, time seemed to still. Never in your life did you imagine hearing something so simple, yet so profound. His words, spoken with such gentleness, struck something deep inside you. Just who was this man? You could sense Odai’s stunned silence behind you, just as surprised by the unexpected warmth in those gentle words.

After clearing your throat, you finally asked, "What’s your name?"

"H-Habib, miss."

This… this is Habib? The Habib that Maha had told you about?

"They’re the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family. They own general stores around here, two of them."

And here you were, standing in one of them. But how was he… here?

From behind a curtain serving as a door to an adjoined room, a man in his late fifties appeared, his presence steady and familiar. He moved to stand beside Habib.

'That must be Kadir, his father.'

"Oh! I’m sorry, I was just praying in the other room. How may I help you?" Kadir asked politely, his tone warm. Meanwhile, Habib stood quietly to the side, his gaze fixed downward, trying to shrink into the background, as if seeking shelter behind his father’s presence.

"Well, our DC wanted some cigarettes, and this boy refused to sell them," Odai interjected with a trace of frustration in his voice.

"Oh--I’m so sorry. Ma’am, please, forgive him. He’s new to this… and, well, he refuses to sell them to anyone," Kadir said with a chuckle that barely masked his embarrassment, as he reached for the cigarettes.

"No, it’s alright. Really, I don’t want them. And… you’ve raised a kind soul, sir," you said, your gaze briefly shifting to Habib, who still stood quietly, his presence almost ethereal. Maha was right. If those eyes alone held such depth and softness, then his face… You couldn’t help but feel a quiet curiosity bloom within you, wondering what beauty lay beneath the mask. Yet, it wasn’t a thought born of desire--no it was reverent. There was a satisfaction in knowing that Habib remained untouched by the eyes of envy or malice.

"I--thank you, ma’am. But, please, if you still want--"

"It’s fine." You smiled, your voice gentle. "I’ll just take those chips instead. Thank you."

Before leaving, your eyes found Habib’s one last time. For a brief second, he looked back, those soulful eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that touched something deep inside you. And then, just like that, the moment passed. Something stirred in your chest as you made your way back to the car.

His demeanor, though shy and reserved, had an innate warmth that contrasted starkly with the pain you suspected he might have endured. Habib's eyes, so expressive despite their attempt to hide behind the mask of modesty, spoke volumes. How could anyone ever think to harm such a gentle, innocent soul? His kindness made him so pure, yet so brave in his quiet way. Your heart ached at the thought of someone cruel, someone arrogant, standing where you were now. If they had received the same refusal, what might they have done to him and his father?

Part III

(AN: I cried writing this due to the unspoken romance which is more to come and I just wanna give the biggest hug to Habib so bad 😭)

[pearblossomrain]

here we go with another past midnight race recap:

first of all 2 saubers in q2 what the fck guys. also the verstappen penalty is wild i have never seen a 1 place grid drop?? if they wanted to hand out a penalty it should be a time penalty, no? oh well i'm not a student of the fia rulebook and they kind of do whatever they want so eh.

i'll cut this here once again because i ramble quite a bit oops 😅

● LAP 1 DRAMA. SO MUCH DRAMA. verstappen immediately leaping up to race leader (that's a man with a Vengeance) and norris following right after! aaaannddd there's mess at the back of the grid. i think hulk collided into ocon and colapinto (commentators: "that's crash 16 for williams this season" which wtf??) and took them both out, not that it helped him at all granted that they were all 3 literally the absolute last backmarkers. somehow tsunoda jumps up 4 places in the middle of everything?

● which brings out a safety car on lap 1. mein gott. and somehow stroll manages to collide into albon under a safety car. thank GOD they can both continue however because those 2 garages are run absolutely ragged 😭😭

● race restart! nothing much changes except piastri snatches back 4th from leclerc that he grabbed at the start and stroll retires after seemingly being able to continue after a pit stop.

● false start for hamilton? and tsunoda goes back down the grid after fighting with the saubers (never thought i would say that!) with his teammate all the way at the back due to i think spinning off?

● a mercedes pit stop for russell?? on lap 24 with no other pit stops in sight?? oh i don't know about that....fastest lap is rapidly bouncing between the 2 at the front and every time verstappen gets it i say "fork found in kitchen" to my friends 😂

● yellow flags because a....wing mirror fell off onto the track?? (apparently from albon) already quite ridiculous on its own but i would argue that the fia's handling was even more ridiculous with them only putting out yellow flags and refusing to do anything until bottas ran right over it, scattering debris all over the track and causing sainz and hamilton (who were both already having less-than-ideal races) to have punctures. and THEN they brought out the race's 2nd safety car leading everyone back to the pits.

● everyone started making their pit stops under the safety car, surprisingly including russell for his second and apparently he was Really mad about them putting him on hards again. whoops.

● second race restart!! with 10 seconds of my blood pressure probably spiking like hell because everybody was fighting for positions with each other due to i think a slipstream from verstappen? not sure again but that's what i heard from the commentary so i'll leave it to them.

● in other news, gasly carrying alpine's hopes and dreams is pretty high up in the order constantly fighting with sainz (until the end of the race) and zhou!! zhou guanyu is in the points!! its a miracle and one that i am incredibly thrilled by!

● PEREZ GOES OUT?? and so does hulkenberg, bringing out a 3rd safety car and a total of 5 retirements this race. sao paulo is being given a run for its money right now i fear 😭😭

● 10s penalty for norris?? for failing to slow under yellow flags?? look i am not mclaren's biggest fan (my beef is more with the organization admittedly) but i would have expected a 5s penalty. anyways he goes into the pits to serve it (not too sure abt that call...) and comes out dead last after being 2nd the entire time which. Yikes. [edit: it was a stop and go, sorry for the mistake]

● hamilton also picks up a drive through penalty and when he goes into the pits he asks if he can retire the car 💀💀 oh this man wants OUTTT of the season and of mercedes....he's going to turn up to ferrari at abu dhabi before sainz even packs his bags i fear.

● nothing much really changes up front but we got really close to a double sauber points which is INSANE honestly considering i thought they would end the season with 0 points? anyways we get a verstappen leclerc 1-2 which is going to delight the shippers immensely 😂 (i mean that in the nicest way possible) and a hilarious trio of an alpine in p5, a ferrari in p7, an aston martin of alonso who was actually very consistent throughout the race (i guess aston martin are not p5 in the wcc and him p9 in the wdc for nothing) and a SAUBER in p8 (not even p10!! he made p8!!)

overall, i don't really know what to say other than this was safety car paradise (i do wish it was the pretty green aston one instead though!) and that this podium is quite delightful with a lot of underdog drama which i admittedly always love! definitely will be watching abu dhabi next week because it's at 9pm for me which is perfect timing tbh!

(p.s. congrats to ollie bearman for winning the f2 sprint race, doriane pin for winning the f1a race and abbi pulling for winning f1 academy champion!! i love my parasocial children lots <33)

[whats-it-mean]

Mahiru’s sign to stop flirting with every single person who enters her line of sight ☆

Mikoto/john x Reader (they’re jealous)

A/N - This is for a friend, so reader is down bad !! as they should be!! mikoto is hot!! this one is suggestive ig, its got making out (s c a n d e l o u s) but nothing explicit. somebody give Es a pay raise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite her romantic tendencies, you enjoyed passing free time with Mahiru. She never made you feel uncomfortable, and ever since her injuries from her judgement, you’d been walking with her from time to time. Mahiru liked taking walks, but ever since the judgement came, she hated doing so alone- After Kotoko’s attacks, nobody was the same. Everyone was on edge. Even Es.

Today was no exception to your newfound tradition of accompanying her throughout the prison hallways- you were happy to do so with her, and she seemed much more cheerful when she had someone to go with. In your mind, it wasn’t odd at all if she linked arms with you- she was injured, so it was all perfectly normal for her to need a bit of help walking. And you were never bothered by her absentminded flirting- it was in her nature as a hopeless romantic. 

You knew she harbored no feelings for you, since she spent half her time rambling to you about her wonderful boyfriend. That part did concern you, but you decided it’d be best to leave that up to Es to mention. You were fine with it if she hugged you before going back to her cell, or even if she gave you a goodnight kiss on the cheek- it was all completely platonic. Mahiru was grateful for your friendship and your understanding of that fact, but the one thing you failed to realize was how it might look to others.

And lord knows your incapability to notice how a certain person was taking it would get you in all sorts of shit.

“Goodnight, Mappi!” You said, not hesitating to return the gesture when she stood on her toes to hug you. She smiled as she gave you her typical goodnight wishes, reminding you to drink water as she gave her a kiss on the cheek and then hurried back off to her cell. It really didn’t mean anything to you, as you turned on your heel and started absentmindedly strolling back to your own cell- Until, of course, you heard the familiar sound of your cell door creaking open.

You snapped your head up as you heard shuffling fabric, but the dim lighting in your cell didn’t do much to help your god-awful eyesight in figuring out who the fuck was in your cell this late at night. You were already sitting on the low-quality mattress of your cell, just staring dumbfounded in the general direction of the door as you felt a bit of fear settle into your body.

“H…ello……?”

Your voice was quiet as you spoke, slightly afraid- it was past curfew by now, and if Es found someone in your room, they’d get some sort of penalty. Which sucked, because you were actually really chill with every other prisoner and would much prefer to not have any issues.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a voice that was undoubtedly Mikoto’s, as he inched closer and sat down on your bed. “Sweetheart.” His voice was colder than usual, like we was upset, although you were unsure as to why. “C’mere.”

Although you hesitated for a moment, you inched closer to the end of your bed, close enough to him where you could see his face a bit better. He had an almost confused expression on his face, like he couldn’t quite sort his emotions. He glanced at you, eyes softening once they fell on your face.

“What’s the deal with you and Mappi-chan-….?” He asked slowly, staring at you without ever letting his gaze falter. He sounded confused, and maybe a bit upset, but was careful as not to seem accusing.

“Mappi-..? She’s my friend, just like all the other prisoners here..? You know that….?” You ran through what had happened that day in your head, trying to figure out what he was talking about- absentmindedly lifting a hand to your cheek to where Mahiru had given you an innocent little kiss, which was really a terrible decision. The moment you did so, that was all it took for Mikoto to… change.

He narrowed his eyes at you, which made you feel things you probably shouldn’t have in that moment, but you shoved those thoughts away as fast as you could.

“That’s not what it seemed like.” His voice was noticeably deeper, and sounded gravelly as he spoke, his tone of voice changing dramatically. He reached forward, grabbing your hand to bring it away from where your fingers where still gently tracing the spot Mahiru had kissed you.

Suddenly, everything caught up to you.

You felt your face flush a deep shade of violent red as he stared down at you, some emotion in his eyes you couldn’t quite get a good grip on when he was staring at you so intently like that. He didn’t say anything, just watched you as your breath and heart rate started picking up.

“You… know you’re mine, right..?” He asked, voice low as he spoke. You nodded shakily, not really being able to say anything.

Talking to Mikoto was one thing. But talking to… him? You knew he was different right now, and whenever he was like this, the tension got almost suffocatingly high.

“Then I should be the only one to kiss you.” He huffed, almost sounding pouty.

You breathed out a barely audible “That makes sense.” as your eyes started to wander, now barely able to control the rapid speed at which your heart was beating.

He stared at you as the room fell back into silence for a moment, just… watching you. Watching the way you got fidgety under his gaze, watched the way you took quick breaths, watched the way your eyes darted from place to place through the room, meeting his every now and then before darting away again in your rush of jumbled emotions.

Well, there was no turning back now, right?

After making his decision, he wasted no time in placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck, which sent your eyes straight back to him as he leaned in. His lips were soft, although they pressed against yours with unimagined fervor as he pulled you closer.

You felt your arms wrap around his neck as you gave in to the way he kissed you, almost greedily, one arm settling around your waist to support you. His eyes fluttered shut as he continued needily pressing himself against you, letting out some sort of muffled sound through the kiss. The moment your lips parted, you feel his tongue darting out, and your mind went entirely blank. All you could do in the moment was tighten your grip around him, him doing the same while he pushed you up against the wall. You could barely breathe with him against you like this, but you were still trying to pull him closer as your blush intensified so much it was a wonder it didn’t burn you.

He pulled away for just a moment, only long enough to breathe out the word ‘mine’ before leaning back in. His hand on your neck slowly moved up to your hair, ruffling through it in a way that was almost calming.

You weren’t quite sure how far this would go with the way he was holding onto you, but all your racing thoughts were cut short as you felt a flashlight, bright against your face.

“Hey, it’s past curfe—-“

A long silence, omitting the slight panting that came from the man who was now just hovering over you.

“God fucking damnit.” Annoyance was evident in Es’s voice as he simply glared at you. “You would think that in prison people would be able to control themselves, but noooo. Fucking hate this job.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[moonsavior]

Cotton Tail

☆ Summary: Heaven & Xavier spend their day-off in bed.

☆ WARNINGS: Domestic, Pre-established Relationship, explicit sexual content

🐇⭐️🐇 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 🐇⭐️🐇

'Went 2 get coffee. B back soon. - Your Partner'

It was an early winter morning.

Straggling birds chirped into the clear blue-yellow sky, and Heaven Uhuru had the day off. She lounged in the bedroom, lying prone with her feet kicked in the air and her relaxation candles lit as she scrolled through her phone.

With her partner gone, so too went a major heat source for Heaven, which turned into the opportune moment to done her big, fluffy Christmas apparel that Xavier recently bought her.

With a white thong underneath that she bought to match, of course. To balance her body temperature.

"You look nice."

Surprised, Heaven turned her head to the doorway and smiled at Xavier, finally returned from his coffee run. He seemed momentarily stunned standing in the doorway.

"You look nicer."

Heaven held open her arms, the only invitation Xavier needed to put the hot coffee basket down and fall back into her arms.

What started out as a quiet, sweet kiss turned to Xavier stealing quick kisses between Heaven's giggles.

She pulled away slightly.

"What kind of coffee did you get?"

"I brought coffee?" Xavier stared at her in confusion.

If she didn't put her lips back against his soon, he'd begin pouting.

Except, when he tried to continue, she would move the goal from left to right, only granting him last-minute cheek kisses.

Which was fine. Her cheeks were so soft, and he loved rubbing against each other any other time.

However, this time, she was wearing that, and Xavier's eyes were already dilated, so this simply wouldn't be enough.

An otherworldly gleam appeared in Xavier's eyes.

His hands roamed her warm, brown skin. She smelled so good, like cocoa and the perfume he'd bought her.

Their bodies naturally cuddled together, but the way Xavier slotted himself against her made his sweatshirt ride up to reveal nothing underneath, same as her.

Their heated abdomens pressed together made her slightly dizzy.

"Woah... Have you been working out?"

Heaven blushed.

He knew she did. There was still a hickey below her navel.

They had just had an intense training session the other day following Xavier's ridiculous training regimen. It involved a penalty game if Heaven wasn't able to meet the requirements of each workout.

Needless to say, Xavier's required training proved too much to bear.

She had been worked out, more like.

"I can tell you have. You're so strong, Bun."

Xavier praised Heaven, which embarrassed her and made her hide her blushing face behind her hands. To help, Xavier pinned her down and held her face in his hands so she couldn't escape his praise.

"You're pretty when you're struggling." Xavier smirked.

Moving his hands from her face to her hips, he slid his long frame off of Heaven's short figure to cradle her from behind.

Xavier slid her panties to the side, the damp material nestled comfortably against the back of his wrist. He palmed her messy lips so securely that his fingertips "accidentally" probed inside of her.

"Why'd you come in here ready to start something?" Heaven asked, dazed.

"Me start something?" He answered incredulously, "This is your fault. Look at what you're wearing."

In her somewhat appeased state, Xavier made them both fall to their side on their cushy Starry Night quilt.

"You bought it."

Distracted by his hand, Heaven could only rest comfortably on her back, so Xavier nestled her into his side before recapturing her attention with a long, tender kiss.

He coaxed the cutest little notes from her, depending on where his fingers stopped dragging out of her. Until he discovered that two knuckles deep made her sing a particularly beautiful song.

It sounded like a signal in deep space, calling him home.

"Not these."

Still, Xavier loved when she wore her signature oversized sweater/panties combo. It was so easy to slide to the side and cuddle fuck her whenever he wanted.

His glossy fingers pulled out of her momentarily to drag across her hip, snapping the scrap of clothing against her sopping pussy.

"Give me your panties." Xavier commanded.

Heaven immediately complied.

Lifting her legs high in the air, she maintained eye contact in his arms as she slipped her thong up, getting to about mid thigh before Xavier snatched down to her ankle, making sure it wrapped around snugly.

The print in his grey sweatpants wept.

Xavier pressed his palm flat against her stomach, grinding her ass against his erection, massaging her squishy clit between his long, dexterous fingers. Heaven's fingernails dug into his protruding veins as his fingers curled within her.

"Xavier!" She squeaked.

"Is this ok?" He teased.

He knew full well she loved it. He just wanted to hear more breathy responses alongside her desperate nods.

"Bunny..." She moaned wantonly.

"I love how you look at me when you're turned on, Vixen."

Reaching around, Heaven tugged at the strings on his sweats until they dragged down his hips, revealing the veins winding the path of his happy trail, surrounded by trimmed curls nesting his straining, two-toned shaft...

"I feel even better." She promised.

Her full lips ached to taste him.

"Spread your legs wide."

Her legs opened easily for him.

"I've got you." He swore.

Xavier pulled Heaven's tied ankle up to his hip, locking her in place before positioning himself.

His rose colored head slicked into her pretty pink hole with ease, and her wetness had him biting his bottom lip.

Moaning, Heaven’s body bowed forward.

"Where you goin'?" He asked.

His voice hit a lower, gravely octave that made Heaven tingle.

His dick twitched inside of her. She could see his bulge.

"Aah-!"

"I know, baby, I know," Xavier shushed.

Xavier's strong arm wound around her waist, then came between her breasts and pulled her back up. Her spine straightened against his hard chest.

His hips rolled slowly, softly so he could completely coat his dick in her juices before slightly pulling back to admire it.

However, when he'd admired enough or simply needed his unrelenting thirst quenched, Xavier snapped his hips behind Heaven's and made her cry.

"But I love the sounds you make."

He pinched her nipple hard, and her sweet cries got louder.

Rhythmic clapping echoed, and the headboard knocked against the wall. Were the neighbors home?

Xavier's fingers deftly played with her nipples, stroking them feather light when they pebbled to harden them again. Did it matter?

"Right there," Heaven begged.

"Right there?" Xavier replied.

His voice was firmer now, more gentle.

His kisses tickled behind her ear, down her neck and across her shoulder. He released her ankle to play with her clit.

When that made her grip, Xavier had to bury his face in the crook of his partner's neck to hide his loud moan.

Heaven could offer nothing but lewd sounds herself as he fucked her into their plush mattress.

"You're so pretty." He said after every kiss.

He pulled their heads away slightly to lure her tongue from her mouth. They weaved together in a salacious waltz, their breaths mingling.

Heaven reached behind to the back of her head to deepen the kiss. Moaning, Xavier hugged Heaven close to keep himself inside while he rolled her onto her stomach.

He broke their kiss briefly, only far away enough to break the saliva string that had connected their tongues.

Heaven backed her ass into him, making Xavier's eyes cross like stars.

"Where you goin'?" Heaven panted, teasing.

"'Mm—sorry—keep going," He begged.

Foregoing putting his tongue back in his mouth, he opted instead for licking a slow stripe from spine in between her toned shoulders.

Constellations formed at random spots on her neck as Xavier's lips dotted upon her like stars appeared in the night sky.

"Just like that," Xavier gasped, "You're doing so good."

Xavier pounded into Heaven with one arm on the bed propping him up, and she tiredly clinged to his muscular bicep for leverage while he made her ass clap. With his head bowed low and his breath hot against her skin, Xavier made Heaven cry.

"You feel so good." He whimpered in between strokes, "I could spend all day inside you."

He could feel her pulsating and tightening up around. She soaked him to the bone, and yet his thirst remained insatiable.

"I love when I can feel you squeeze me." Xavier confessed.

He was a sweaty, blushing mess of a man coming undone above her, and she loved it; He looked like a meteor shower, bright-eyed and shining down, desperate to be seen by her.

"I love it too." Heaven admitted.

The room was heady and thick with the scent of sex and scented candles, bodies stuck together tightly as Xavier rocked his starry-eyed Heaven on his hard dick.

Heated cheeks pressed against each other, Xavier whispered encouragement while his arms flexed and his abs tightened at how hard she kept creaming around him.

"Good boy," Heaven praised him unabashedly.

Her hips couldn't stop shuddering on his sodden length.

"If you keep creaming, I'm going to cum." Xavier warned feebly.

He pulled out momentarily to turn Heaven onto her back. His body blanketed hers, arms like cages, and he slipped back inside of her before she could whine about the loss.

Xavier swallowed Heaven's satisfied moans with his tongue.

They continued humping like rabbits in heat, warnings and praise all sounded the same in their aroused state. Hungry for more, Xavier switched their position again, so Heaven sat in his lap.

"Do you want me to cum for you?" Xavier whispered directly into her ear.

Heaven couldn't resist his trap.

"Mmhm... I want you to cum for me." Heaven's voice dropped sinfully.

She draped her supple body over Xavier's hard planes, her arms dangling across his shoulders as she caressed and sucked his earlobes, making sure every single moan of hers orbited to his ear.

"Aah... Where?" He panted.

She was more spread out now, drenched and dripping and able to twerk on his dick in rapid succession.

"Is there anywhere else?"

Xavier's body clenched.

"You like that?" Heaven panted into his red ear, "My Star."

Xavier's thrusts became more intense, deeper, and firmer.

His muscles contracted, accompanied by a sexy, guttural grunt of pleasure when he came.

Heaven relished in the feeling of Xavier's dick twitching inside of her when he came. The feeling of him throbbing while he squirted made her squeeze him. Together, they rode the high for as long as possible and when it was over they bathed in the afterglow.

Their lips locked languidly, in no rush to head back down to earth so soon.

🐇⭐️🐇 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 🐇⭐️🐇

[race-week]

Can you explain why Ricciardo got penalty for overtaking based on article 55.8 but the stewards say Hulkenberg was allowed to overtake him in the first place based on that same atlrticle?

Article 55.8 of the Sporting Regulations lays out the specific situations/exceptions where it is okay to overtake under safety car

These are:

a) If a driver is signalled to do so from the safety car.

b) Under Articles 49.6, 55.13, 58.6, and 58.11.

c) When entering the pits a driver may pass another car remaining on the track, including the safety car, after he has reached the first safety car line.

d) When leaving the pits a driver may overtake, or be overtaken by, another car on the track before he reaches the second safety car line.

e) When the safety car is returning to the pits it may be overtaken by cars on the track once it has reached the first safety car line.

f) Whilst in the pit entry road, pit lane or pit exit road a driver may overtake another car which is also in one of these three areas.

g) Any car stopping in its designated garage area whilst the safety car is using the pit lane (see Article 55.11 below) may be overtaken.

h) If any car slows with an obvious problem.

With Hulkenberg you can state that it was acceptable for him to overtake under safety car there as the car in front of him had been crashed into and likely had damage, hence it would fall under 55.8h).

Ricciardo wasn’t entitled to take that place back and there’s nothing in the regulations that would allow him to do so

[cheeeeseburger]

Dream girl Part 8

Next part

Sidney Crosby x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: IF YOU HAVE RED PART 7 BEFORE PART 8 WAS POSTED, PLEASE GO BACK BECAUSE I HAVE ADDED SOMETHING AT THE END! Wow, three parts in a day, is this really me? And they're the parts with the most words so far? Anyway, English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes, enjoy!

Sidney noticed you crying on the porch immediately, then he saw the other car in the driveway. He put his car on park and got out instantly.

“You’re such a fucking slut!” Your boyfriend spited out those awful words and Sidney saw red.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He went up his teammate, trying to prevent him from getting closer to you.

“What’s going on is that my girlfriend is a whore who’s mad that I’ve been cheating on her when actually she’s the one playing behind my back!” He kept trying to go forward, but he blocked him. Sidney heard you sobbing and immediately trying to justify yourself.

“It’s not like that, I swear!” The desperation broke his heart.

“Shut up!” The whole neighbourhood was sure to have heard him now.

“Woah, come on now, stop that. You don’t get to speak to her like that.” The rookie’s eyes widened and he snapped at Sidney.

“You don’t get to tell me how to speak to my girlfriend when you’ve been fucking her behind my back. What a good captain, eh? I saw the fucking notes on your locker and put two and two together when her friend told me she was no longer living with her. I didn’t expect to actually find her in your house, but I guess you two have become quite comfortable, huh?” The rage in his words was palpable. He was truly furious.

There was a million thoughts running in Sid’s head. Of course, his priority was you. He saw you crying on the porch from the corner of his eye. He had to think about his position in the team and his role as captain. Of course, falling in love with your teammate’s girlfriend was a pretty shitty move, but that was not your fault. You had done nothing wrong. Admittedly, there was that almost kiss, which he initiated, and that real kiss, which only happened a few weeks after you had stopped talking to your boyfriend.  Anyway, all of this mess only started after he cheated on you. In fact, even though it sounds awful, Sidney believes the rookie is more mad because his pride has been bruised, not because he believes you’re having an affair.

Sidney was not too worried about his position, but for someone who did not know the full story, he looked like a shit captain who stole the rookie’s girlfriend. The media would have a field day. A few neighbors were outside, clearly aware that they were spectators to a big scene.

“Okay, I get it, you think your girlfriend has been cheating on you, but she has not. Can you say the same thing? I don’t think so. Calm down, and we can talk about it inside. Let’s not cause a scene.” Sidney was surprisingly calm, given the situation. Years of dealing with situations on and off the ice had turned him into a sharp mediator.

“I’ll give you a fucking scene, dick.” He shoved him. Like, actually tried to push him. The attempt was laughable.

Of course, being a defenseman, he was taller and all, but he didn’t have the experience that Sidney had. Also, he didn’t have the fury that now inhabited his mind.

“Don’t fucking play with me.” It was just like on the ice, except he didn’t have to throw away his gloves. There was no penalty box here, but the girl of his dreams was the prize. The Stanley Cup was nothing compared to you. The first punch came swiftly.

“No, stop, guys, please!” You ran down the driveway frantically. “You have to stop or else the cops will show up!” But it was like the two guys couldn’t hear you. They were in a trance. If this was in an actual game, the entire arena would go crazy. He would be expelled for sure.

“Stop! Stop!” Your screaming didn’t change a thing. Sidney was too blinded by his rage, otherwise he would have stopped as soon as he saw you. You had no other options.

You squeezed yourself between the two hockey players, and your boyfriend didn’t even notice you until Sidney yelled “Stop! You’re going to hurt her!” Both guys snapped out of it.

The whole scene felt like a cringy high school soap, but the blood on the faces and the knuckles of both guys was very real. This wasn’t Riverdale.

“Let’s just go inside, please. Please, I beg of you!” You took your boyfriends hands in yours and although it hurt Sidney a bit, he knew why you were doing it. He was going to follow you inside anyway, but the rookie might not.

It was like he finally noticed your mascara-stained tears. It seemed like he really did care for you still. Panting, he agreed. “Okay. Let’s get inside.”

Instinctively, Sidney’s hand made its way to the small of your back. He sensed that it was not the time, nor the place and he dropped it, although it pained him to do so. The sound of your tears echoed in the entryway while regret coming from both guys filled the atmosphere.

The three of you gathered in the living room. You sat down and there was an awkward moment when Sidney and his teammate did not know whether to sat down next to you or not. Ultimately, they both decided to stay standing. Sighing, you stood up too.

“First of all, I have to make things clear. I have never cheated on you with Sidney or anyone else, and I do not deserve to be called a whore or a slut.” The words came out distorted from all the tears you spilled. You choked up when speaking and your voice trembled. Some guilt flashed in your boyfriend’s eyes, but not enough to stop his next spiteful words.

“How can I believe that? You have been living with him for Christ’s sake!” His left eye was turning black. Sid should feel bad, but he just felt satisfied.

“Only because you moved back in the condo, and I obviously could not go back there! I lived with my friend for like a week, but then she kicked me out because of her boyfriend!” You seemed ready to pull out your hair. You had to make him believe you, because your reputation was on the line. The double standards were crazy and hockey was a small community and you did not want to become the black sheep of the sport nor did you want to stain Sidney’s golden boy reputation.

“Why the fuck did you not go back home with me?” The captain ached to order his teammate to watch his tone, but it was not his place to interrupt now. You two were in duel, both waiting for the other to actually pull the trigger.

“Are you freaking kidding me? You cheated on me, and that was just the first time that I had proof, because I know you have cheated on me before, I was just too naïve to see it! In what world would I want to go back to living with you like everything is normal?”

“How the fuck should I know? You refused to talk to me!” It was like having to fight with a toddler. You took a deep breath.

“Okay, I admit that that was not the most mature reaction, but put yourself in my shoes. You came here acting crazy because you thought I had cheated on you! I think my reaction was not outrageous given that I had proof!” It took everything in you not too roll your eyes at the ceiling.

“So you admit that you’ve been cheating on me with?” Sidney knew this guy had next to no hockey IQ, but he was starting to believe he had no IQ in general.

“I do not admit to anything! Goddammit, you really don’t know me, do you? Otherwise you would not for a fact that I would never cheat on you. I’m way too loyal for that. I stood by your side through everything! Your junior hockey days, the draft, I even moved to Pittsburgh for you! Heck, I guess I don’t know you that well either because a year ago I would have never thought you could play behind my back like that!” Your boyfriend pinched his nose and cursed at the ceiling.

“That was a fucking mistake! Okay, maybe a few fucking mistakes, but I swear they did not mean anything and I have regrated it every single day since!” Wow, the arrogance of that kid.

“You only regret those hookups because I finally found out!”

“No! I regret everything that went down because we were supposed to get married, to be endgame! You’re the one I want to have children with, not those sluts!” Oh, he was digging his grave deeper.

“Oh, like that’s supposed to make me feel better? And don’t call them sluts, you’re the one that can’t keep his dick in his pants!”

“You’re such a bitch! Can’t you see that I’m trying to say sorry?”

“Okay, that’s fucking enough! Shut the fuck up!” Sidney shouted and his words echoed all over the house.

“Well, it’s not freaking working, because you keep insulting me!” You burst into hysterical tears.

That sobered him up. “Oh God. I’m so sorry, baby. I should have never said that. You’re not a bitch or a slut or a whore. Forgive me please. I’m so, so, sorry.” He sensed that he had gone a step too far. He tried to get closer to you but got the message when he saw you flinch. It seemed he only now realized all that he had done. For the first time in the last hour, real guilt crept up in his eyes.

Sidney stood there, helpless. He did not want to make the situation worst and he knew that it was not his place to step up. You managed to speak between hiccups. “I’ll forgive you, because I know you and I know you don’t mean those words. But on one condition. You have to say that you trust me and you believe me when I say that I have never, ever cheated on you. I did kiss Sidney, but only after we had not spoken for over a month, and I know you have not been a saint either. Please, just say that you believe me, and all will be well.” This was incredibly generous of you, but that’s who you were. His sweet, sweet girl.

He took the part where you confessed to kissing Sidney better than the captain though he would. Slowly, he nodded. “I trust you. It would be extremely out of character for you to do that. I’m sorry for insinuating you had.” Sheepishly, he turned to look at his captain. “I also have to apologize to you for how I reacted, Sidney. I’m sorry.” He offered his hand and Sidney happily shook it.

“Hey man, no hard feelings.” That was kind of a lie, but he would let it slide. For now.

Sidney finally breathed right for the first time in what felt like months. He hadn’t realized the guilt was consuming so much of his energy, nor had he realized that it was there in the first place. It warmed his heart to see you wiping the tears with the sleeves of your sweater and to see a shy smile peaking through.

“Perfect! Now that that’s done, I want a divorce. I mean, I want to break up. And I want to sell you my share of the condo.”

“And also, I’m in love with your girlfriend. I mean, your ex.”

"Sidney!"

[idv-sunsxin3]

Hello~! I would like to request a fluffy scenario in which Riddle Rosehearts plans to propose to his fem! s/o, asking her to be his future wife. Takes place after the events of Ghost Marriage. Make it super fluffy, please? Thanks!

Note// Y/N is considered as Yin instead of Yuu. Hope that's alright;;;

Note// I’m so glad I was able to speedrun to unlock his Ghost Marriage card before maintenance came- phew,,, :’3

It has been a few months since you last talked with Riddle after what happened that night. The series of events were undeniably unforgettable as they reminded you of certain thoughts that haven't crossed your mind for a while. Until now...

Thinking of the relationship you established with Riddle after years of growing your friendship since elementary... and how the future will it be for the both of you.

You're not worried about what happened back in his overblot arc, you're not worried about his strict mother who doesn't appreciate her son as much as you do, you're not worried if he ever hurts you someday... Because you have been already there to see him lose his mind, not only throwing it on everyone else but also at himself...

There's one single thought you haven't decided....

'Should i leave? Or should i stay...?' You carefully think, remembering the fact that you don't actually belong to NRC in the first place.

You were mistaken to be there when you're originally supposed to be in the Royal Tiara Academy. Technically the sister of Royal Sword Academy, an all-girls boarding school.

From the papers, the same exceptional report card as Riddle's, but different talents and career paths, Riddle's mother just knew you would rather belong in an environment full of goody-two-shoes princes and pricesses since the first glance-

Yet, a coffin happened to have snatch you away and escorted you to the NRC ceremonial hall--- your confused self finding yourself in ceremonial robes and waking up from a standing coffin that just opens magically, meeting curious, but puzzled eyes at the unusual newcomer.

But other than that, your lost eyes also met with a familiar pair of dark grey orbs... Riddle, elementary best friend, who also then became your high school sweetheart. Since the moment the magical mirror choose you to be in Heartslabyul.

It was an awkward situation at first from the 2 years of not seeing each other after middle school... The last year when you had to move away from the Queendom of Roses to a different land.

Yet, nothing can make Riddle seem more tender to anyone else other than you. He never thought you would come back to him, dreaming of you in his arms as you both hide beneath the painted rose bushes... yet here you are.

Of course, some obstacles happened that came between you two along... Riddle was notably greatly influenced by his mother's standards at that time... making him less lenient on rules with everyone in the dorm, rough yelling, and strict penalties here and there, leading to disagreements between you two by what would be the better for Heartslabyul. Some dorm studebts almost mistaken it as an "every night lovers' quarrel."

His once short-tempered and constant anger almost stopped you from holding on to him- yet you gave him the patience as time goes by, slowly waking him up from all the madness he has been going through- it was a tough task since it happened like a very steep downhill roller coaster ride, especially with the overblot event. It slowly worked out at the end.

So... why is Riddle not saying anything?

Oh, right.

RTA's headmaster discussed with the headmaster Crowley and decided to schedule a day to pick you up and escort you back to the royal academy.... The news seemed to affect Riddle a lot in a negative behavior. No matter how much you assure him that there are the possibilities to see each other more often outside the campus, Riddle is slowly growing more gloomy than ever in his little corner.

Until one day, he broke out of his bubble. Wanting to man up and speak to you like you both always do, before he ever loses his chance.

Taking the opportunity that he found you at the usual spot, you both often go together. A hidden part of the rose maze only you two, Che'nya, and Trey know so well, where a there is a table accompanied with 4 chairs. With a bonsai of a little cherry tree sitting on the center of the table.

He saw you there sitting at the round table all alone, looking down at the little cherry tree's pot. Even despite all the roses painted red or white waiting to be painted in red, there is always a single cherry tree hidden in the maze where Riddle just couldn't have the heart to get rid of... because you gave him the tree as an anniversary gift.

Nonetheless, the housewarden quietly walked towards you before sitting across. Everything was just silence, it is hard to figure whether it was uneasy or pleasant... Riddle has no used to desperately trying to find the right words to say quickly, and instead, he breathes in and tries to search for the right words, no matter how long it will take. Knowing you, you don't seem bothered by how quiet it seems.

"Have you wondered why the cherry tree hasn't grown yet?" You broke the silence with a gentle question. A purely curious tone. Your eyes are not looking away from the pot.

"...I have once." The red-haired whispered back, only glancing at the other's face with hands neatly folded on his lap.

It was the honest reply... Why hasn't the little tree haven't grown yet? It has never changed its appearance for 2 years already.

"That’s because it is meant to be designed to grow and change with you." You simply replied, recording back to the memory when you put a permanent spell on that tree. "And even if you're ever gone, the tree will be left as your legacy as long as you're remembered."

"What if I'm ever forgotten...?" Riddle then asked, his tone sounding quite soft and frail. Seem to afraid of the idea.

"That will never happen," you assured quite firmly, "Because I'll always remember you for the next 70 years of my life probably, and I'll never stop thinking of that smile of yours...!" You pointed determinedly. Also maybe a hint of light teasing.

"A-Ah...." Riddle stammers, ears going lightly red at the statement you made. He raises his gloved hand to cover his lower part of his face as you laugh softly at how your boyfriend is slowly turning red per second.

After a few minutes, your laughter slowly subdues into chuckles. Before giving a one more sad smile.

"Are you... angry at me?"

"Goodness- no." Riddle stops blushing before denying a bit.

"You seem very upset lately,,,"

"Well- i'm angry because i can't even bring myself to be angry!" Riddle lightly frowns which almost looks like a small pout, forming fists on his lap, "Right when you're getting comfortable here, those pompous princes and princesses now need you back? It's been already 1 and a half years!"

"It was indeed a tough situation," you admit lightly as you sipped your cup of tea, "but then again, RSA and NRC have this heated rivalry, so it was probably the same between RTA and NRC..."

"I- Yin..." Riddle hesitates, his voice frowing less exasperated into a hopeless one. "Stay..."

"Riddle...." You start off softly too, trying to reach for his hand. He seemed to hesitate, however. But he didn't want to look away from you either, fearing you'll depart at any moment.

The place you both are in has been always magical,,, but why does it feel more bittersweet?

"I need to confess... -"

"What kind of confession...?" You lightly ask, a bit curious what your beloved needs to say.

To be more honest, you were the first one out of the two of you to ask out- so it was astonishing to see Riddle taking initiative by words.

Which can also mean it's crucially important.

"I know it has been only 3 years since we started this relationship... And that we're too young for this step-," Riddle struggles to begin, the ironic it might sounds when he's a big spokesperson in debates, "but i just want to know, if you can wait with me until i give you a real ring...-"

These few words cued Riddle to hold your hand so tenderly, interlocking it before slowly unfolding your fingers....

Revealing a simple, silver band with a carved rose as the base in your ring finger.

",,,Would you be my future wife, just as I'm forever yours?"

"..."

"Yin... Please stay. I... I don't know what will i do if you leave..."

"..."

"It will never be the same if we part ways again,,,"

Your silent reaction slowly worries Riddle as the fear for rejection is starting to eat him up bit by bit.

Until tears started to slowly fall off your pretty eyes before embracing your boyfriend, now fiancé, a bit more tightly than before.

"Always... Always with you,,,." You quietly whispers through your sobs as you lovingly sit yourself on Riddle's lap out of innocent intentions, still hugging him in your arms before Riddle gently guided your face to share a soft, tender kiss. You complied with no more words, now sealing one thing you have been trying to decide...

"Yin... I love you."

"I love you, Riddle.”

"How... How are we going to tell the RTA's headmaster?" Riddle addresses one thing, a bit concerned. He struggled in wanting you to stay but also knows how much you wanted to return to the rightful academy you once called it "home."

"I'll tell him i already have a home here i already belong in." You shortly answered, smiling softly at Riddle before placing another kiss on his flushed cheek. Then, changing the subject into the topic about hedgehogs.

'I'll stay in Heartslabyul with him, then..' You thought, feeling all the weight in your head brushed away for the first time.

[vamos-chilli]

My god people are so miserable in your tags, trying to find a problem everywhere . And btw haven’t you guys wondered that the vibe was maybe just a bit “off” because Carlos was just probably disappointed that he didn’t win that’s it, no need to insult or blame Charles when he did nothing. He won his race beautifully, so no need to be bitter. Some Carlos fans are being really annoying lately sorry

im ngl i dont even think the vibe was weird charles went to celebrate w whoever was collecting the constructors trophy i can’t remember and both of them gave carlos a spray before carlos went to spray max and they chatted before they left the podium like it wasn’t weird to me

but the main thing is people are always going to be like this in fandom . it’s a form of parasocialism in believing that we as viewers can understand the inner workings of our idols from ‘knowing them’ through the screen and coming to ‘recognise’ what we see as behavioural markers . happens all the time that’s why we end up with prominent shipping and rpf cultures in a lot of fanbases bc of our interpretation of how people interact with one another .

it can become obsessive for people, the majority of fandoms i’ve been in have been centred around real people and the subject of ‘truthing’ comes up a lot- the strict determination of a trait or personality of a person based on a second hand perspective of them, where the f in rpf is made redundant and people start to genuinely believe their headcanons of a person are applicable to their real life person . larry stylinson is knocking at the door .

because of parasocial and truthing behaviours peoples perception of drivers becomes tilted on what will best fit the subconscious narrative they are building- lando for instance i believe doesn’t deserve the mass hatred of mischaracterising as an awful person he’s been getting this season. nothing has changed between this season and the last except for the number of wins under his belt .

last year people felt the same hostility towards max . a few years ago it was lewis . its the relationship to our drivers as a competitor that’s changed . and those that pose a bigger threat receive the harsher penalties to their character .

it’s not an issue with carlos fans . it’s not an issue with lando fans or max fans or charles fans or anyone . it’s an issue of parasocialism that’s prevalent in every fandom for every character ever . we see it more for these drivers because they are top 5 drivers and they have larger fan bases . none of us are the big bad .

sometimes it feels like us vs them and i’ll tell you first i felt that way at the start of the season because genuinely i was being flooded with carlos hate in my asks and people posting the most insane negatively parasocial conspiracy theories about carlos having paid out the media to talk about him as if he didn’t just win a grand prix 2 weeks after surgery and be one of the most valuable drivers on the market for 2025 (i still get heated about that bc it was just plain disrespectful) . and yeah it did feel like it was carlos fans vs the lecfosi . because sometimes we let it be .

we build these insanely negative parasocial relationships with drivers and it consumes us. i’ve had to block ferrari fans for constantly posting carlos negativity and no doubt charles fans have had to block some carlos fans for constant driver negativity. lando fans will have gotten death threats over a race result even though that’s an insane thing to do and so have oscar fans .

everyone is annoying all the time we all annoy each other with our parasocial truthing of drivers personalities and the only way it’s actually going to change is if

1) we all take a step back to analyse our own behaviours and how we engage with negative parasocial behaviour

2) we stop making call out posts of ‘x drivers fans are so annoying’ because all it’s doing is reinforcing the narrative we want to build

[televisionlassie]

The reason I find Jason to be boring is because people are so scared to hold him accountable. You can’t claim to like anti-hero’s or claim that Jason is an anti-hero if you’re going to excuse everything that makes him an ANTI-hero.

There is no doubt in my mind that I would like him a whole lot more if people accepted him as a character that does bad things. I understand he has trauma and his own reasons but trauma is only an explanation, not an excuse. While I like consuming content of the batfamily being a family, when it’s not based in pretty much an entirely different universe it doesn’t make any sense.

Pretty much all of the batfamily (except Bruce because he’s can actually be pretty awful to Jason) has reasons to hate or be mad at Jason.

Jason went out in a Nightwing outfit and killed people to try and ruin Dick’s image, and all the shit he’s done to Dicks other siblings. You really think Dick would just be cool with the fact that Jason beat one of his little brothers and shot another one?

Cass has a moral code probably stricter than Batman, she would HATE Jason for killing. And again same thing with the siblings.

Tim I just don’t understand why he would ever forgive Jason. Jason beat the absolute shit out of him, plus you gotta admit that guy is too much of a cocky bitch to ever just forgive and forget

Unfortunately I can’t say much about Steph as I can’t think of a single time where they actually interacted in canon. But I don’t think she would be too fond of the guy who beat up her best friend and shot Damian.

Duke I think has had one personal interaction with Jason and while it wasn’t too friendly I don’t think he would hold that big of a grudge.

Damian I think would be more understanding but it’s hard to forget how he was shot by Jason and had to have his SPINE replaced because of Jason.

I’m not trying to hate on Jason, he honestly makes me sad because he is filled with wasted potential. It’s not even that they never make him do bad things, it’s that there’s never any lasting consequences.

Many times when I see people who hate on Jason they bring in the death penalty argument, which as much as I hate and believe is stupid, still has some tiny bit of validity. The reason it sucks is because the world of DC comics is not even remotely similar to our real life. Criminals in real life don’t have plant powers or convoluted plans to distribute their weird ass poisonous gas. If they did, they wouldn’t even spend a night in jail because they would be shot on the spot. If Jason did just kill these types of criminals, then he would not be considered an anti-hero, just a hero. But that’s the thing, Jason doesn’t just kill the Joker, or the Riddler or any of the Rogues, he kills the type of criminals we would see in our real lives. THAT is where the validity lies in that argument, it’s not just that Jason is killing supervillains but that he is killing the type of people that we are fighting against the death penalty for. Obviously this argument means nothing to you if you are pro-death penalty but I just wanted to explain.

Jason would be so interesting if he was treated like the character he is supposed to be. A young traumatized person who does bad things for the right reasons but still has to face the consequences.

And if people really want to give him a character arc where he eventually stops killing, it shouldn’t just be he gets tried of killing or tired of arguing with Bruce, but that he sees how his way of crime-fighting can do more harm than good.

It’s just so frustrating to see how people just act accept anti-heros for what they are. It like people are so scared of making or admitting a character to be immoral, that they just erase the consequences of their bad actions to make it excusable.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my rant, Jason Todd fans this wasn’t me hating on your babygirl, I’m trying to help you.

[bananasomg]

WIP Wednesday Friday😏

tagged by @mossistyping < tysm, friend! xx

i've been working on a darker fic lately, which entails a seedy contractual obligation that gives certain FIA-approved individuals free-use of drivers who finish P20 during a Grand Prix.

lestappen hurt/comfort, angst, first time. under the cut is part of the initial scene, where Max is at odds with the race positions and trying to do whatever he can to avoid lapping Charles.

TW: implied SA (not between Max and Charles)

“Blue flag,” GP’s voice crackles. It’s not the first time in his career that Max has lapped another car, and it won’t be the last—but it’s never been Charles. It’s never been someone he wants to protect no matter what.  Charles hasn’t ever, at least to Max’s knowledge, been lapped in F1. Of course there have been countless DNFs and bottom 10 finishes, but definitely not dead last. DNFs due to race collisions or car problems are an exception to the racing rule, and thank god for that. Ferrari has always retired the car, inherently protecting their drivers from the darker, seedier FIA contract stipulations, which no one really discusses. At least not publicly, but the rule stands—if you’re lapped by the race leader, retiring won’t protect you from serving the last place penalty.  And the way you serve that penalty is nothing short of horrifying. Max remembers everything. It’s impossible not to.  “Overtake, please,” GP says, steady and commanding.  Max grips the steering wheel, willing his engine to stop working, his tires to melt and flatten. He’s helpless. He’s back in his debut season. P20 in Austria. He’s being pulled from the car and ushered into that unmarked building behind the team motorhomes. He only experienced it once, but that was enough to haunt him. Enough to keep him fighting so that he’d never be in that position again. Charles, dutiful as ever, has already moved off the racing line to let him through. Max forgets to breathe. He vowed to keep him safe, and now he’s driving the nail into his coffin and can’t do anything to stop it.  “Did you hear me?”  “No, the fucking rain.” Max’s voice is hoarse, his tongue a lead weight. He can almost hear how his engineer’s nostrils flare at his denial. “You can pass.”  He doesn’t shift into a higher gear to pull the move like he should; instead, he taps his brake. “Max.” His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I can’t.” “It is not a suggestion.” GP’s tone is harsh, clipped. Time is up.  “Don’t make me do this,” Max pleads. Knows the entire world is listening, probably broadcasting this live on SkySports, but fuck. This is bullshit, and if they only knew the brutality they pay for... He can’t do it. He can’t be the person that sends Charles into the viper pit.  Max continues to drive behind the Ferrari, knowing that every second he holds his position, McLaren is closing the gap behind him, but he doesn’t care. He reaches up to wipe water from his helmet, pulls another tear off from his visor. “If you don’t, Lando will.” GP states it as a fact and not a knife wedging painfully between Max’s shoulder blades, lodging deep between his muscles. They’re all mates, but when they’re off-track, they never discuss the implications—all the twisted ways they hurt each other in the name of racing. “Max, overtake now. I won’t ask again.”  “FUCK!” Max screams into his helmet.

no pressure tags: @mvpanda1 @chock-and-bates @formula-fun

[anonduck07]

2024 Chinese GP: Recap + Results

Another one! Fair warning that it's the longest one so far, but I blame that on the 3 safety cars

P1 is Max Verstappen, who takes his first Chinese GP win, leading by about 14 seconds!

Yes the car is great, but the guy behind the wheel is also having to deliver - Crofty about Verstappen post-race

Red Bull also sets the fastest pit stop of the race, double stacking Verstappen and Perez under the full safety car and setting 1.9 and 2.0 seconds respectively.

Lando Norris is P2, his best finish since 2023 brazillian GP. He was also voted DOTD, winning just ahead of Hamilton and Alonso, who were also fan favourite picks. He was a little unhappy after he missed out on pitting under the safety car, but all ends well for him.

He [Norris] is not a happy bunny - Crofty, probably, about the missed pit stop

Woop Woop! I told you we would get past the Ferraris. - Norris, after crossing the finish line

Checo Perez places P3, yet another Red Bull double podium! There was an interesting 5 second gap from him to Norris, likely due to Norris having fresher tires. At the beginning though, he pulled some nice moves, regaining his position from Alonso within a few laps of him losing it.

P4 and 5 were the two Ferraris, Leclerc finishing in front of Sainz for the first time this season. They had a bit of a clash at the start, but nothing that the broadcast really focused on.

P6 was George Russell

P7 was Alonso, who was placed on an interesting strategy for the last several laps. He pitted for mediums, allowing him to overtake Ocon, then Hulkenberg, then Hamilton and Piastri.

P8 was Piastri who, keep in mind, has never driven at this circuit before

P9 was Hamilton, who is DOTD in my heart. He struggled with his tires at the start, being only one of four drivers on softs (everyone else on mediums, except Magnussen). He seemed to fare better after pitting for mediums, making his way to finish P9 after starting P18 :)

We also got a few moments of Nico Rosberg trying to be on some sort of wavelength with Lewis while commentating:

He's Lewis Hamilton, so yes he can…get into the points…im sure he'll move up fine - Nico Rosberg

I'm making no ground with this tyre - Lewis Hamilton That's not what we want to hear - Nico Rosberg

I can't even catch him, Mate. This car is so slow. - Lewis Hamilton That's exactly what I was going to say - Nico Rosberg (Lap 17)

P10 was Hulkenberg, yet again managing points for HAAS

P11 was Esteban Ocon

P12 was Alex Albon, who had a complaint about Ocon "moving like a ---- everywhere on the breaks." on Lap 1

P13 was Gasly, who set the slowest pit stop (19.3 sec) after an incident in the pits where a loose tire hit a mechanic when he was set to be released.

Is he okay? - Pierre Gasly All good here Pierre - Alpine

An unfortunate no-points finish for Zhou, who places P14 at his home GP, but still a very emotional day for him.

This is a dream to me as a kid, so thanks for all the Chinese fans here and back home watching TV and thank you to my team…let's keep working. - Zhou Guanyu, after he gets out of the car

Sauber, as always, had issues with their pit stops. Zhou's first one was quick compared to their previous ones, at only 3.0 seconds, but his stop under the physical safety car was the second slowest at 5.3 seconds.

He had a short fight against Sargeant and picked up some damage after contact with Magnussen near the end, losing his front wing end plate in the process, which couldn't have helped his position.

P15 was Magnussen, who always seems to be at the scene of the crime. He also picked up a 10 second penalty for infringing on the safety car.

P16 was Stroll, after picking up a 10 second penalty for causing a collision. He also had a battle for 16th with Magnussen, which was pretty interesting.

P17 was Sargeant, who was doing pretty well for the most part. Then, he stacked up a 10 second penalty for the same reason as Magnussen.

DNFS

The first yellow flag was also the first DNF of the race, caused by Bottas whose engine reportedly failed. The FIA changed the yellow flag to a virtual safety car, then a full safety car, all within a minute or two. Truly a testament to their amazing decision making skills.

The second yellow flag was caused by Yuki Tsunoda's spin out at lap 27, after contact with Kevin Magnussen that led to Tsunoda having to DNF and Magnussen going into the pits for a punctured tire.

Just minutes later, his teammate also DNFs, as Stroll collides with the back of Daniel Ricciardo's RB under the safety car. This was likely due to the fact that Ricciardo was the only one who hadn't pitted for fresh tires during the last safety car, as well as the fact that he was trying to avoid bumping Piastri, who was trying to avoid Russell, who was trying to avoid Alonso. Stroll recieved a 10 second penalty for causing a collision, but Daniel retired on lap 33 after reporting floor damage.

This idiot just slammed on the brake! Check wing damage - Lance Stroll

I've got no fucking rear on exits - Daniel Ricciardo

Before that though, his drive was going "superb" (in the words of Nico Rosberg), as he was P9 and had made a switcheroo overtake on his teammate at turn 3.

[darklinaforever]

No because once again, you are just repeating like parrots the same arguments over and over again that have already been dismantled and I don't care. As one of these anonymous messages says, it must be tiring and boring to post the same thing 24/7...

I know the definition of grooming as well as the true meaning of what is implied in a historical context. And obviously not you. I already did an entire post explaining this book and show grooming bullshit :

But all you care about is appearing morally superior and you look like a bunch of ridiculous fanatics. Or some ridiculous bigot, because I'm pretty sure it's the same person sending these stupid messages over and over again.

What is your problem ? You're bored ? Why are you spying on my accounts like that ? Seriously, why are you so obsessed with me ? I imagine him on the lookout for the slightest post on Daemyra that I make ready to pounce like a predator on its prey. My god, this person(s) must not have a life. It's sad. 😂

What do you expect ? That between the insults and the repetitions of the same stupid arguments over and over again for a long time I actually delete my account to please you ? Or that I suddenly say : Oh but my god you are right ! You delivered me from evil ! Daemyra is such a groomer ! Daemon is a monster who doesn't love anyone ! 😱😂

By the way, here is again the little free quote from GRRM Martin's book on Daemon, his favorite character whom he considers to be a gray and complex character. So your Daemon is BAD BAD BAD, well the author himself tells you no :

Over the centuries, House Targaryen has produced both great men & monsters. Prince Daemon was both. In his day there was not a man so admired, so beloved, & so reviled in all Westeros. He was made of light & darkness. To some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains.

You really look like a bunch of disillusioned idiots. It must be hard when the true creator himself doesn't agree with you on what the character is.

It must also piss you off that these interviews for the series exist, right ?

There's no point in booing me because I say something that has already been said by the directors and screenwriters themselves. I don't agree with everything they say or do in this stupid adaptation, but at least we can agree on some points.

Oh, and I have already said I don't know how many times that I recognized that Daemyra had toxic aspects in the series version, except that, so what ? This will prevent me from shipping the Daemyra version of the series maybe ?! No. Love is not necessarily something pure, we have to stop the bullshit, especially in fiction. On the other hand, I maintain that there is nothing toxic in the book version. There is no such thing as a brothel. It's an invention of Mushroom. There is no voluntary abandonment of Daemon for 10 years. In reality he was banished under penalty of death. There is no Daemon leaving Rhaenyra to deal with childbirth alone. He was by his side in the books. There is no strangulation either. And once again, the age difference and the incest aspect are not real arguments as to a possible toxicity in their relationship, due to placing the relationship in its fictional and historical context from which GRRM draws inspiration, namely the feudal era, where age differences and incest were included in the customs of the time for specific reasons. Especially if we are in a family where incest has no impact due to their MAGIC BLOOD ! These elements are not evidence of toxicity. Open a history book. An age difference and incestuous marriage in a historical context does not necessarily result in toxic abusive relationships. This is bullshit.

Also, I don't have the impression that you will understand that the show is not the book. I always distinguish between the two and obviously you don't. Because what exactly do you believe ? That if Daemon cheats on Rhaenyra in the series, my world will fall apart ? No. My posts on Daemyra will continue because the book will always exist. You know, the book that has a different canon from the show, therefore implying that the canon of the series cannot interfere with that of the book. But you didn't remember the difference between the two. You prefer to mix it up to fix your pathetic vision.

The series is already shit. Even for the Daemyra relationship they messed up on a lot of points. And I'm not even going to start with the greens, Alicent etc. It is a disaster. The series itself is full of inconsistencies.

I will add that in reality you do not care about the so-called abuse that Rhaenyra suffered from Daemon. Otherwise you would care what Alicent and the greens team did to her. But you don't care. You even expect the show to write scenes of stupid abuse between Daemyra over and over again. Because you don't actually care about Rhaenyra. The proof tells you that no one can love the whore of Dragonstone, a nickname literally coming from the greens team. Bunch of hypocrites.

Once again I recommend going to the tumblr of @la-pheacienne and of @horizon-verizon to educate you on what the character of Daemon and the Daemyra relationship really is. The posts of @stromuprisahat are also pretty good in general on Fire and Blood.

The antis are really crazy. The bitch who should close her account apparently well she tells you to go fuck yourself and buy a life.

@aleksanderscult

[shydroid3000]

9, 14 and 21 for the death note ask game?

Ooh, these are fun ones, thanks! 9. what would you do with a death note?

Nothing. I'm somewhat ashamed to say that I'm a goody-two-shoes and a coward when it comes to taking risks haha. Like, when I play an RPG, I make all of the boring good choices almost every time because I can't bring myself to do otherwise. (Well... except for Astarion. I did bend my moral code for my perfect, selfish, vampire princess man. But that was an exception lol). Anyway, I also don't support the death penalty so aside from cowardice that would probably stop me too haha. I'm sure I would be compelled in certain ways to use it, but I'd stay too indecisive to actually do it. 14. Ryuk or Rem

Ryuk is delightful, but I have to say Rem. She's enigmatic and contemplative in a way I find really compelling, and also somehow she's hot? Haha. I have to side with the self-sacrificing sapphic monster-god. 21. if you could revive any character, which would you save? Ahh, part of me wants to say Naomi. Her death hits me so hard, and I wanted to see more of her badassery so badly (and I also really wanted to see her interact with L). I know in LABB we get to see past-her and past-L and that's really cool. But I do long to see them interact in the Kira period, where L already knows her and has a respect for her, and vice versa. I think it would have been super interesting to see their dynamic. And also I think Light would have been jealous of not being the only one there whose reasoning could keep up with L enough for L to take seriously their deductive contributions. Because Light really wants to be special haha. That would have been fun to see, I think. Of course, her continued presence would require certain narrative adjustments so that 'Naomi lives' wouldn't equal 'Kira is caught immediately' haha. Buuuuuut, all of that said... I think if I really, really had to choose, at the end of the day I would say L. I'm just so fond of him as a character; he's one of my fave anime boys of all time haha. And I relate to him in certain ways that are meaningful to me, so there's that aspect. Really, his death just makes me so damn sad. It's one of those ones where my brain doesn't want to fully acknowledge that he actually died in canon lol. And like, it first and foremost makes me sad for L. But the (self-inflicted) tragedy of Light losing the one person who *saw* him, who he connected with in an authentic way (even if he masked that heavily).... The "it will be lonely, won't it?" of it all. God, that hurts my heart lol. (And of course that complicated emotional impact is part of what makes DN and its characters so compelling, but.... still, I want to have my "L" cake and eat it too. Lol).