#because at this rate that's all alex will qualify for

[badalexridermemes]

[petit-papillion]

I can't help but play devil's advocate in my head whenever I see those Charles stats because yes, he's absolutely incredible, alongside the greats, but I imagine all the anti-Charles comments coming in going, "well front row starts aren't wins, so it's a useless stat".

And I started thinking, when has Carlos ever had a seemingly 'useless' stat that was positive about his results? Did he have a streak of consistency? Because I can't think of any.

Charles might have a lot of front row, pole positions, top 5 stats that people undermine, but it's a hell of a lot more than what the other drivers on the grid have. He's undeniably one of the most talented drivers.

Sure, I see where people are coming from when they say useless stats, points are earned in the race, etc. But if they're calling him out for being inconsistent: qualifying front row 7x in a row is a stat showing them the opposite. Unfortunately, I think he's made it look easy, and people just can't accept that he is working miracles in cars that don't necessarily have that pace over 50-60 laps.

And if Charles doesn't put it on pole/front row, he gets team orders to sit back during the race and not overtake (even if he has better race pace), and then he is called out for not being aggressive enough, and Ferrari firing the wrong driver, etc., etc. Mind you, when he did try to pass Carlos in Monza, people were also up in arms calling him too agggressive and risking both cars getting taken out, so he can't please people no matter what he does.

Here are just some of the things I've seen people spout recently:

I agree with you, Anon, Charles is incredibly talented, and despite some abysmal years at Ferrari under Binotto, he has achieved more than most of his peers on the grid. However, I think the expectations of Charles are extremely high, especially being a Ferrari driver. And unless we were able to compare each F1 driver's abilities to one another with all of them driving the same car, there will always be "but's". "But Alex cannot possibly win in a Williams." "But the McLaren is not as fast as the Ferrari." "But George could win as much as Max if he was in a Red Bull." Etc.

And despite him easily outperforming so many of the drivers he competed with before coming to F1, I think Charles is always going to be compared to Max. Who is also undeniably talented, but who also had a very driven dad who pushed him to train incredibly hard, who had connections & funds, plus F1 insider knowledge, all allowing Max to jump ahead and gain way more experience at a lot faster rate than his peers. And when Max is considered the standard Charles has to live up to, even getting P2 in WDC still gets you called "overrated" and "a mid-level driver".

[sennaverstappen]

ROUND 13/23 ⸺ belgian grand prix ✩ 30.07.2023

maple's rating: ★★★★ (8.9/10)

☁︎ click read more facts, highlights & experiences ☁︎

✩ facts

this is max's first win from p6!! ✨

this is checo's best result since miami 2023 😨

charles took his third podium of the year 💌💕

checo's 33th podium took place - beating daniel's amount of podiums‼️‼️

yuki has scored a point - scoring all of alpha tauri's points this season so far 😵😵😵

✩ raceweek highlights

✩ qualifying

lando in the gravel; esteban in the wall 😭😭😭

yuki p4 in q1 for a bit

worlds angriest radio message by max, him apologising for it afterwards (he wasn't even making sense LOL love this guy) 💕💥‼️

max pole by 8/10th 🥺✨🌷 even though he got that gearbox penalty...

✩ shootout

logan through to sq2!! oh, he's... spinning 🥺💔

alex so so good in sq1, can we make this happen forever ☀️🌷

nico flop strategy, thus out of sq2...

lance in the wall, unfortunately - he said he could do slicks... he couldn't 😔

max pole‼️‼️💕💕🦁🦁

✩ sprint

safety car start - because it's raining 🌈🌧️

max choosing to pit second lap, for some reason... causing oscar to lead a sprint‼️‼️💌

fernando in the wall, oops

checo doing very bad this sprint... losing spots left and right 😭

max winning no problem at the end ✨✨😁😁

✩ race

the fuckass rendition of the belgian anthem making fernando have to hold in his laughter 💀💀💀

carlos lockup at the start, causing him to crash into oscar, causing oscar to dnf (the start of the hatred) 💔😵

yuki overtakes carlos 🥰💕🙏

alex drs train!! my beloved!! 🥰🥰💕💕

esteban making a brave move!! 😁😁

max very much enjoying the race, getting a bit emotional on his radio saying how much he loves rocky 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕

✩ miscellaneous

max saying how unfair it is that he cannot battle charles because of the car... 🥺💔🥺💔🥺💔

max's innuendo in the press con... something about wrist exercises... we moved on too fast 😭😭😭

✩ maple's diary

[sparklepocalypse]

Last week everyone was like, “good thing AO3 doesn’t do a ‘your year in review’ thing like Spotify!” and this week we’re all like “anyway here’s my 2023 AO3 year in review!” So. Anyway, here’s my AO3 year in review -- thanks to @anincompletelist for the tag! Open tag — if you wanna participate, do it! If you don’t, don’t; I’m not the boss of you.

Check it out under the jump:

2023 by the Numbers

Published Words: 123,740 since the RWRB movie pulled me kicking and screaming out of a semi-permanent fic writing hiatus in late September 2023. (Yeah. All those words in essentially one quarter of the year. I am bonkers.)

Published Stories: 37, all in the Red, White & Royal Blue movie fandom -- 22 of them are also tagged with the RWRB book because I kept character descriptions vague enough that readers could self insert whatever characteristics they wanted. All of them are Alex/Henry (be still my little ‘shipping heart).

Unpublished Words: 28,113 and counting in the Big Giant AU (KHIX). I have no other WIPs with actual story written in them, currently, but I do have a to-do list that’s 33 ideas with various levels of detail long.

Most Recent Drops

Sip You Like Cosmic Juice [rated E, 3,122 words] inspired by @orkazh-arts’ rugby!Henry piece. What if RWRB, but Henry plays rugby instead of polo? Alex POV at the charity sporting event. Oral sex, banter, and Henry’s thighs.

So I Will Weather the Storm [rated E, 9,804 words] my RWRB Advent fic. What if RWRB, but Henry's a helicopter rescue pilot in the RAF and Alex falls off a mountain? Oral sex, anal sex, Christmas. One of my favorites!

I'd Wanna Be Felled By You, Held By You [rated E, 2,310 words] my take on what happens when Alex lets Henry borrow his clothes at the lake house. Oral sex, making out against walls, anal sex, possessiveness.

On My Mind (Let's Go) [rated E, 10,751 words] my NYE fix-it fic where Henry boxes out Green Dress Girl, seduces Alex with dance, and gets his damn kiss (and more). Oral sex, anal sex, anal fingering, Henry’s ballroom lessons. One of my favorites!

Top 5 By Kudos

What's Symbiotic Will Always Be [rated E | 2,622 words | 1,157 kudos] The one where Henry develops a breeding kink. Out of all of my Kinktober fics, this one is the most qualified to be called absolute filth. God I love this fandom.

Take it Down Low / Make Me Get High [rated E | 2,092 words | 971 kudos] The one that’s been described by at least one person as “that rimming fic.” Again, you degenerates are fabulous.

In the Low Lamp Light, I Was Free [rated E | 3,156 words | 750 kudos] The one in which Alex bottoms for the first time in Paris, because there are two condom wrappers. Now we’re getting into my genre: porn with feelings.

I'd Wanna Be Felled By You, Held By You [rated E | 2,310 words | 670 kudos] The one in which possessive Alex really likes Henry wearing his clothes. One of my more recent ones and one of my favorites.

On My Mind (Let's Go) [rated E | 10,751 words | 601 kudos] The one in which Henry gets his New Year’s Eve kiss (and then some).

My Favorites Published in 2023

Only including fics that don't appear in either of the other sections above, so I don't clog up your dash with the same link multiple times here...

Bloom [series | rated M/E | 7,655 words] the fandom’s first sex pollen ‘verse on AO3 (unless someone wrote some without tagging it; I checked more than once!).

This is Holy Ground (The Flesh I'm Made Of) [rated E | 3,491 words] the fic in which Alex is a god who’s new to the whole deity business, and Henry is his acolyte.

Down On My Knees; Wanna Take You There [rated E | 7,787 words] the Renaissance Faire AU with glory holes and Pancake, the best horse in the universe.

If We're Caught in a Wave (I Will Carry You Over) [rated E | 5,944 words] the fandom’s first tentacle porn fic (again, unless someone wrote it without tagging it, as with the sex pollen). Alex is Alex and Henry is a cecaelia — AKA octoHenry.

Slide, Crawl into the Shades of Light [rated E | 4,851 words] the fic in which Henry has a bad week and asks Alex to overstimulate him into oblivion.

Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully) [rated E | 8,782 words] the fic in which Henry and Alex don’t get hit by a cake, and Alex goes on Grindr at Buckingham Palace — AKA the harlot flat fic.

Blame My Poor Romantic Mind for the Mess We Made [rated E | 1,570 words] the fic in which Henry writes poetry on Alex’s naked body and then tops him.

A Few Other Stats & Facts About My Fic

Which RWRB canon did I lean on? Well, it should be no surprise to any of you that I’m an RWRB movie writer if you read the first chunk of this post. 100% of my RWRB fics published in 2023 are tagged with the movie fandom, while 59% of them are also tagged with the book fandom because I kept details vague enough that they could fit with either canon. I did not post a single RWRB fic that was tagged with only the book fandom. (And here’s my secret: I’m always picturing the movie characters when I write fic in this fandom. Always.)

What was my ratings spread? of the 37 fics I published in 2023, 2 were teen and up, 1 was rated mature, and the other *thirty-four fics* were explicit.

Where did my titles come from? All but one of my fic titles were sourced from song lyrics; the remaining title was pulled from a love letter written by Herman Melville to Nathaniel Hawthorne. I also put together a Spotify playlist for my Kinktober title songs.

What did I listen to while writing? A lot of M83 while writing plot and dialogue — enough that it put me into the top 0.5% of M83 listeners on Spotify for 2023. I also listened to the playlist Songs I’d respectfully get railed to while writing smut.

Canon-compliant or AU? While I’ve written a few things that are completely canon-compliant (missing/expanded scenes mostly), I’m a sucker for both AUs and canon-divergent fics!

Things I'm Hyped for in 2024

The Big Giant AU (KHIX): I’ve been working on this since September, but then Kinktober happened, and then Kinktober burnout happened, so I only recently started plugging away at it regularly. It’s going to be long. It will make people ugly cry. It will make people giggle. It will probably make people [redacted]. It’s already 28k words long, and I’m nowhere near finished. This will not be published until the first draft is complete, because I know me and abandoning WIPs.

Hanahaki AU: I’ve never written this trope but I love it and I need to do it. The end.

Runaway Prince: Henry runs away. Alex finds him. More to come. (Them to come as well.)

More in the Ren Faire, sex pollen, harlot flat (no cakegate), and octoHenry AUs.

And a few movie AUs and one-shot ideas I've got up my sleeve.

[cr-noble-writes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

oooo this is a hard one ngl. Partly because I have a *lot* of posted fic that I really love, but also because I have a *lot* of fic I haven't posted yet that already qualifies as favorites lol

I guess I shall start at the beginning, and go from there

Falling Apart

Supernatural, Destiel, rated T

This is the longest complete fic I've ever written. It was my first ever bang fic, and probably the first time I ever actually wrote multiple drafts before publishing a thing. My writing style has changed dramatically since I wrote it, and when I read it now, I can see all the ways I could improve it, but its still one of my favorites, because it was the first time I finished a story, looked at it, and was like "this is my baby."

Lust

Supernatural, Michael/Crowley, rated E

This one is a favorite because I just had a lot of fun writing it. It's kinda fucked up and kinda wholesome and it was just a blast to create. It's also a favorite because it came with some incredibly dope pinch hit art by @slytherkins (which you can find here, because I think I embedded the art with discord links that no longer work).

You Should See Me In A Crown

Supernatural, Destiel, rated E

This one is a also a favorite just because it was so fun to write. I really embraced the action movie aesthetic for it, and just kind of let go of needing things to make real world sense, and as a result I had such a good time. Also because it was fun to write a fic where I used real places that I've actually been, because now every time I go to those places I'm going to think about this awesome story I wrote on top of the cool memories I have there from real life :D

Vicissitude

Mass Effect, mShep/Coats, rated M

This literally just may actually be the best thing I've ever written tbf. I got to explore telling someone's story in a way that I'd never tried before, and I loved it! Also, I might be a little biased because I am actually full obsessed with my own OC lol

Growing Pains

Mass Effect, rated G

This one is a favorite because it was the writing of this fic that made Alex Shepard who he has ended up being. I had written like 40k of ME1 timeline stuff for him, and realized that I didn't actually know enough about him to keep writing, so I went back to the relative beginning, and he's become a much more complex character since then.

Thank you so much for the ask! I am always happy to self rec lol

[wondrouswendy]

Tagged by the incredibly kind @nanuk-the-bat 😊 Thanks for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 86 fics!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

736,742 -- somehow it feels like this should be much higher, but there are several stories which haven't made it to AO3.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Alan Wake and Control. In the past, I've written for Hades, World of Warcraft, Overwatch, Star Wars, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, just to name the big ones.

4. Top five fics by kudos

The Coming of Butterflies - Zagreus/Thanatos, a Hades fic

Out of My Hands and Into Your Heart - Alan Wake/Fictional Alex Casey, an Alan Wake fic

Sometime Around Midnight - Majima/Makoto, a Yakuza 0 fic

The Water - Reaper76, an Overwatch fic

What We Leave Behind - Hanzo/the Cowboy, Overwatch fic

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes. I try to reply to every comment because I really appreciate people taking the time to leave them. It's easy to just read a fic and drop a kudos. It takes more time to think of something to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well, Out of My Hands is a tragedy, so I think that qualifies as angstiest. However, I think several of my Trench/Darling fics are angsty given the nature of the pairing.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Runaway Rabbit had a very uplifting ending, for being a sex pollen fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not in recent years, but I've received 2 hate comments in the past.

9. Do you write smut?

Yep. E rated fics are my most common on my profile!

10. Craziest crossover?

I'm not a fan of crossovers, but I have some ideas being cooked up for my third installment of my Fictional CaseyWake story that are crossover-esque.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully not, I'd be extremely angry if that happened.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I've had a few translated, namely The Coming of Butterflies.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I've written several fics with @rangerzath. From OCs and beyond, we've written a lot together. We've recently started collaborating on comics, which has been a lot of fun!

14. All time favourite ship?

Trench/Darling

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't know about doubting. I don't want to close the door on anything. I want to get back to Days of Thunder and Forever and Always someday!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I write characters in character really well, like I capture their voices accurately. So dialogue, then.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing stories. Not becoming discouraged. Staying motivated. Resisting the urge to publish prematurely. Descriptions take a lot of time and thought. I try not to be repetitive, too, so it requires needing to get extra creative for said descriptions.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I think there's a time and place for it.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

If we're talking about the original... then Inuyasha lol.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Out of My Hands and Into Your Heart. I tried my best to write a story detailing Alan's life before Bright Falls, his struggles, his moments of joy. I really just wanted to explore what could have led to Alan killing off Casey in The Sudden Stop. I wanted to explore the Writer's Journey(TM) and all the victories and setbacks creatives experience, because that vicious cycle is very much at the heart of Alan Wake as a series. I think I'll always be proud of it for what it accomplished, and I'm very pleased it's a finished story under my belt too. I'll tag @rangerzath @pintsizeninja @pinkomcranger @hearts-are-connected and @star-spangled-bastard (if you've been tagged already, sorry for the spam!)❤️

[tessa-liam]

Smoke and Mirrors

8- The Mirror Doesn't Lie 

Book: The Royal Romance Finale+, Alternate Universe 

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer’. 

Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘LiRi’ 

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy 

*Most characters belong to Pixelberry 

*Not Beta’d, please excuse all errors.  

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings: NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking/gun violence. Not recommended for anyone under 18 years of age. 

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 1990

8- The Mirror Doesn’t Lie 

Chapter Summary: Preparations for the Celebration Ball continue for the upcoming Saturday at the palace to officially inform the court of the princes and their expected arrival date in August. Drake’s revelations about his future are revealed with memories of the past for Liam. Lena, under custody with Interpol is transferred to Lyon, France.  

Music and Title Inspiration:

Simply the Best, Sara Beth                                               Mirrors, Justin Timberlake 

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #38, Prompt #1 - “I love your curves. I think it’s one of the best things about you.”, Prompt #2 - “Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting.” 

A/N2: My submission for Choices June Challenge, Prompt – Nature – Run (jogging), beach, sunshine, summer. @liaromancewriter 

A/N3: My submission for Character Summer Challenge, Prompt – beach @choicesficwriterscreations 

Bright, early mornings in the summer always brought a calming solace for Liam. As he jogged along the coastline of the private, secluded beach near the Capital, the sunshine and cool sea breeze invigorated him and allowed for clarity of thought; a guilty pleasure that he took for himself. Listening to calming music through his ear buds, and with the steady pace of his jog, his thoughts eventually turned to the conversation that he had had with his brother the previous evening. Liam shook his head, remembering with regret how the phone conversation quickly got heated... 

‘Leo, are you trying to tell me that I need to give this woman, this stranger, the benefit of the doubt?”

All I am saying Liam, is that our father turned his back on his own daughter, on your sister, my half sister.

Oh, in that case you are trying to tell me that I am just like our father?!  

This woman threatened my daughter, stalked my wife, told you that she wanted my throne because she felt that I was not worthy of it. 

And what, I should just let her have access to me and to my family without consequence? 

Are you insane?! '

Liam stopped abruptly, not realizing his calming jog had turned into a fast-paced run. He bent over, slowing down his breathing as he swept the sweat from his brow.  

 The sunshine glinted off the bows of the yachts docked at the marina just up ahead as he looked up. Chuckling to himself, he realized how far and fast he ran. 

This argument had swiftly spiraled into a shouting match and ended with Liam curtly ending that conversation. 

Shaking his head, he chastised himself, thinking that when he returned to the palace, he needed to call Leo to further explain his reasoning and to apologize for the conversation getting out of hand.

Of course, he was curious, and wanted answers from this woman, his ‘sister’. What he really needed was answers from his father.  

Why did he not embrace his own flesh and blood? Why?  

Why would he knowingly abandon his child?  

Why keep this child away from him?  

Was his father’s paranoia the reason?  

These are missing pieces to this puzzle that confounded him. Should he give her the benefit of a doubt? Yes, he can. However, there are qualified Interpol Inspectors that are trained to vet situations like this.  

His responsibility, no... his duty was to protect his queen and family at all costs. Which makes it a critical priority to keep this woman physically away from Cordonia’s borders. 

Liam made a mental note to call back Olivia and Inspector Cossoy back to the capital, once Lena was secured in Lyon, France. 

Picking up his jog again, he continued at a steady pace, changing his thoughts to the upcoming celebration ball being held at the palace on Saturday. Deciding to formally invite Amalas, he was sure that his brother would follow her back to Cordonia. That would be the perfect opportunity to extend an olive branch. 

“Li, hold up.” Drake appeared walking on the dock, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Hey, Drake, good morning.” Liam slowed to a stop, turning to greet his friend.  

“Welcome back, how was your trip?” This being the first conversation that the friends had since their talk; Liam was curious about how his trip to the U.S. played out. 

“Pretty good, all things considered.” Drake acknowledged. 

“Delaney’s parents were very welcoming. Her older brother, not so much.” 

“Oh, oh! That must have been uncomfortable, what did you do?” Liam joked, clapping Drake on the back. 

“He was asking me more questions about my intentions than her father did.” Drake rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“It made me wonder what Laney told him about me.” 

“Why would she disparage you?” 

Drake ran his hand down his face, sighing, “we had an argument just before we left the hotel to meet her family at the restaurant. She seems to think that I am afraid of commitment.” 

Liam looked at his friend, “well, she may have a point there.” 

“Not you too,” Drake complained. “I just like my space.” 

“Yes, well, it sounds like she wants a future with you, Drake, and that means compromise.” 

Groaning, “I get that, Li, it's just that.... Drake paused and exhaled loudly, closing his eyes. 

Liam noticed the tells of Drake’s nervousness and stopped to look directly at his friend. 

For whatever reason, Drake was having a rough time returning eye contact. 

Without looking up, Drake reached into his backpack that was slung over his shoulder. 

“I have something for you. It is an invitation for you and Riley.” 

Surprised, Liam reached for the sealed envelope. “This? An invitation for what?  

Drake, speaking very quietly, “well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise... But it is something incredibly special from Delaney and I.” 

Liam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, reading the look on Drake’s face as apprehensive. 

“Delaney and I have come to an agreement.” Drake looked everywhere but did not return Liam’s questioning gaze. 

“We have decided to set up roots, here, in Cordonia, as a couple.” 

“Really? What happened to change her mind about moving back to Austin?”  

“We came to a compromise.”   

This piqued Liam’s curiosity. “What exactly did you agree to?” 

“In your hand, Li, is a wedding invitation.” Drake revealed, his eyes not looking up from the ground. 

“Well, well, well...this is, a surprise. Congratulations, my friend! Riley will be delighted to hear this.” 

Still looking at the ground, Drake nodded, “thank you, Liam.” 

Furrowing his brows, Liam looked at his friend in confusion, not saying a word. 

“Watching you with Brooks, all these years.... I want that too.” Drake spoke hesitantly. 

It wasn’t lost on Liam; the meaning behind those words. Knowing that Drake had feelings for Riley, once upon a time, that had sparked during his social season. Confessed feelings that still lingered for Drake, but feelings that were never returned by Riley. 

“Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting,” Drake confessed. 

♤♡◇♧

Royal Boutique, Cordonian Palace 

Eleanor squealed, “mommy, look at all the pretty dresses! I want that one! Oh, oh, look at this one! Mommy, pleeease, may I have both?” 

It was the Friday before the Celebration Ball at the Palace. Promising her daughter, the particularly important grown-up task of choosing her formal wear, Riley watched her little girl excitedly choose two dresses to try. 

“Well, Ellie, since you can only wear one dress to the ball tomorrow, the other dress you can wear to the next event. Choose the one that you think fits the purpose of having this ball.” 

Eleanor tapped her finger to her chin, debating her choice.  

“You handled that situation perfectly, your majesty.” Riley’s personal assistant, Claire, whispered. 

“Mommy, I have decided.” 

Riley looked expectantly at her daughter. 

“These dresses are wrong,” Eleanor answered. “These dresses aren’t blue.” 

Claire grinned watching Riley’s reaction, as Ellie plucked the blue dress from the rack to try on, leaving the other selections behind. 

Shaking her head with a smile, Riley resumed looking through the ball gowns in the boutique. It was time to find a gown that would fit her now rapidly changing body and her personal assistant suggested an A-line pastel yellow tulle ball gown with an embellished plunging neckline. 

Gazing at her reflection in the full-length mirror she smiled as she felt flutters in her tummy. The twins were very active in their daily movements tucked securely inside her body. 

“Claire, this is the one.” Riley called out to her assistant from the dressing room. 

Hearing the dressing room door click behind her, Riley was delighted when she felt Liam’s strong arms wrap around her; clearly not Claire. 

Riley closed her eyes, when she felt his lips kiss her ear. 

“Mm mm... what did you do with my assistant?” Riley tittered. 

“I sent her away. You have me to attend to your needs.” Liam responded, kissing down her neck. 

“In that case, what do you think of this gown? Do you think the bodice is too revealing?” 

“I love your curves. I think it’s one of the best things about you.” 

Giggling, Riley playfully swatted his arm. “Liam, I am serious!” 

“I am too, love.... You are ravishing.” 

♤♡◇♧

Monterrisian Royal Palace 

The unmarked black SUV passed through the palace side gate as Alex and Olivia watched. Lena was being transported out of the country by Interpol today. 

Once Lena arrives at the Interpol headquarters in France, she will be given a psychological evaluation and be officially charged for her crimes.

Alex overheard Leo's question for Olivia...

“She did not look happy, but at least she wasn’t resisting or trying to escape.” Olivia answered Leo on her cell speakerphone. 

"Good to hear. Amalas notified Liam this morning about the transfer."

"Are the two of you planning to attend the celebration ball tomorrow?"

Olivia was well aware of the 'conversation' between the brothers.

Agreeing with Liam, Olivia was very vocal about her position to Leo after their conversation ended.

"Yes, Liv, I will go but I am going solo."

Olivia looked at Alex, raising her brow, and answering Leo.

"This will be an interesting evening,"

Thank you for reading🤎🤎🤎

Please let me know if you would like to be added@ or removed from tags⚘️

@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @jared2612 @thesvnsins @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @charlotteg234

@choicesficwriterscreations

[lestappenforever]

After sleeping a bit, because if not, I was going to develop a headache because of Max’s DNF. Here’s my take on today’s race (hopefully I don’t cry again)

So Ferrari were good, but good to what extent? There speed was there, but again, we didn’t see any of the 2 have any type of battles, it was merely defensive. Charles defends for Carlos against Lando. But we didn’t really see much. Yes, Albert Park is a track that generally Ferrari like, but we didn’t really see the expected battles today. The whole “Red Bull was a couple of seconds slower than Ferrari” shit that was said today is just comparing to one side of Ref Bull, which is Checo, who didn’t have the speed and had floor damage sustained when battling Alonso. Also, the team order shit again. Ferrari protecting Carlos by using Charles. Granted Carlos was on the front row, but a battle would have been better.

Red Bull have made a mistake today, and maybe the DNF was just expected especially after the damage Max had in FP1. But nonetheless the car is a rocket ship, even as stated by the Mercedes boys. But while yes, that car is a rocket ship designed by the GOAT, the car isn’t what takes the driver to victory, actually the driver pushes the car to the ABSOLUTE LIMIT and takes it home. Because if it were Max who started P6 and didn’t have any damage, he could have taken it home. And on the Max note, today just goes to show that Max grew so much and matured as a driver. Because he knows shit like this happens. Granted, he’s mad, even furious, but he didn’t show it.

THAT MCLAREN HAS SPEED. Finally getting to see that Mercedes power unit in a proper car. Lando and Oscar drove really well today. But again. The whole team order shit, especially in Oscar’s home race, must suck.

The Astons are working their way up pocito pocito. Slowly but surely improving, with double points and good drives from both Lance and Fernando. They are not at opening races 2023 level, but are working their way up.

Can I just say, Haas are impressive??!! The car has speed, Nico and Kevin are comfortable in that car, and are able to take it places that they weren’t able to last year. Its like this team needed Guenther to leave to perform, and having a technical TP was definitely what they need.

YUKIIIII IS IMPRESSIVE AND SO FAR THE STRONGEST CONTENDER FOR THAT REDBULL SEAT IF CHECO WERE TO LEAVE. Today’s drive was just, chef’s kiss, defense and attack was perfect, and he’s showing that car’s potential to the fullest. Daniel also improved a bit, but is still nowhere near were he needs to be, so far, 3/3 out qualified and out performed by Yuki, who is cooking

Mercedes post 2021 regs is showing that 1. Cost cap is damaging them, 2. They were just so strong because of the old regs and 3. That insider in FIA that gave them information prior to being given to the teams was essential for their success (no I’m NOT TALKING ABOUT SUSIE, it was something much older). But maybe this team just had its glory and is essentially and originally going to be an upper midfield team.

Williams today proved that the decision to allow Alex to take Logan’s car was, unfortunately as expected, not the right one. Alex yes, drove well, but he failed to do the one thing Williams needed and essentially gave him the car for, which is scoring points. At this rate, Logan could have gotten the points, and outperformed Alex. Now let’s just pray and hope he didn’t loose his confidence and is able to perform well and actually score points next race.

While I’m still bitter, the race was actually not really that fun, with team orders being the main driver today, which would have NEVER happened if Max didn’t DNF, I’m looking at you all who are saying Max makes the sport boring, because looking today, no he doesn’t. And I actually hope for revenge of the Lion next race, and a new streak to start as the broken one in Suzuka, with Logan scoring and a proper gold race

Once again, I completely agree with your assessments and I don't really have anything to add. All I will say is:

Yuki > Daniel

Nico and K-Mag starting to cook.

And last, but certainly not least:

Williams owe Logan a fucking apology.

[leqclerc]

Re: John elkann - was it just me that was expecting a sainz re-signing then? I think they're definitely planning to resign. I just think he won't get a long term deal like charles one. Which obviously won't make him very happy (which means we'll have to put up with a whole lot of tantrums from him/his family). But definitely think he'll be around for 2025, after that I think they'd be silly to hang on to him

(well, 80% of me is sure they're going to re-sign him, the other 20% is clinging onto some hope that Ferrari will surprise us and get Alex or someone for 2025)

Looks like you might be right, as per the journalist 'leaks' (if you can call it that.)

I guess it's the expected scenario, but it's still disappointing, because lbr while he and his posse are there not much is going to change internally. He's been in the team for three full seasons now, he's not some unknown factor—which is both a good and a bad thing. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't, but that devil has proven he can be an obstacle in a scenario where Charles has a chance to fight for the title. He's shown he's reluctant to put the team first if he sees an opportunity to finish ahead of Charles (disruptive in qualifying, reluctance to go along with the agreed strategy if he thinks it favours Charles, little to no understanding or recognition for the other side of the garage, etc.)

Sure, things might be a little different under Fred's leadership should they find themselves in a similar position to early 2022, but there's really no guarantee. Delaying a contract extension is really the only way to keep him in check. But then if his performance suffers he'll just blame that on job insecurity I guess, like he did when he was way off Charles's performance and pace last spring 🙄

So, on one hand I guess it was to be expected, but on the other, I think they'd be naive to not at least start considering alternatives or knocking on some drivers' doors to gauge interest (like you said, Alex springs to mind as a solid option, if he can be tempted away from Williams in the near future.)

But also damn, 2028 is a long term commitment on Charles's part and I'm a bit skeptical about it ngl. I was/am hoping he gets some kind of option deal (a contract extension to take him up to 2026 and then an option for +2 years if everything seems to be going in the right direction.)

As a fellow '97 baby I'm a bit concerned about the implications, should Ferrari continue to flounder, and should he come away empty-handed after nearly a decade with the team. 31 isn't old (at least, it shouldn't be seen as such, ahem, society) but it also isn't young, especially in this sport. With young talent coming in practically every year and, like in Oscar's case, being very promising from the get go, I worry about what the driver's market will look like by then. Will he still be as coveted and highly rated as he is today, or will he be passed over by capable teams in favour of the shiny new thing? Fernando and Sebastian came into the team as champions. No matter how their run with Ferrari went, they had their titles, and that's something nothing and no one could take away from them. And yet we still saw how things ended for Seb at Ferrari, how public opinion shifted at the lowest point in 2020, how people were chasing him off into retirement and obscurity at the age of just 33. We're already getting endless debates about "is Leclerc really all that or is he just overhyped and mid?" and I fear they will never end until he has something to show for his time at Ferrari. I get it, he loves them, he's determined, he's committed, he has a dream and a vision and it's red but also like—please be careful 😭😭😭

[andromedaexists]

Hello I am gracing your inbox to give you the excuse to exposite about Desecrate changes because I am the epitome of that one Spiderverse meme waiting to hear about it. I'm curious. Pretend there's an eye emoji here I'm on my laptop

HI HELLO ALEX I WILL GLADLY TALK ABOUT THE CHANGES

There are mainly two (2) sections of changes: academic changes and structural changes. The structural changes are much more spoiler ridden though, so as soon as I feel like there's more in depth information being talked about imma throw it under a cut

So. Academic changes

I have talked a little bit about the creation of Desecrate and where the idea came from, but that was a long time ago at this point. Desecrate became a WIP in late 2022 when I was taking a class called Ancient Christianities with the amazing Professor Larson (whom I miss dearly now that I am graduated)

This class, as the name implied, focused on the Ancient sources of Christianity and really the birth of the religion (specifically the start of the organization of religion after the death of Jesus and all that). we learned a lot about the proto-orthodox christians, what processes and theologies went into the creation of the canon texts, the heresies that were birthed in the time between the life of Jesus and unification of the church, and looking into the texts themselves and what qualifies them as canon-worthy or not. I took this class at the request of a good friend of mine (I see you, Vinny. I am never taking a class you recommend again) who was a religious studies concentration, though it wasn't hard to convince me seeing as I have a history of academic interest into Catholicism specifically.

The section of that class I really focused on, though, was the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Nag Hammadi library, and the heresies of Gnosticism and Marcionism. All this to say, I looked at all these and went "what if the heresies became the dominant beliefs? how would that change our current Abrahamic religions?"

That is what Desecrate was based on. However, I have recently had an academic shift from this to something more along the lines of "what if the beliefs the heresies were based on is correct, but they went about it in a really fucked way and also the universe course corrected to cover up this change?" I am now more interested in picking apart the Church as it currently stands and incorporating more themes of "the Church lies" and "the Church hides stuff" than I am at looking at a full alternate history.

Okay this is getting long now and also about to get spoilery so here's the cut:

So basically, while I originally intended for there to be 2 Gods with one chained in the basement and needing to be freed, it has shifted from "that's just the way the church is, look at the history" to "This is really fucked up that the Church hid this information for so long and literally lied to the world's face when confronted about it"

Another major thing that has changed is the structure of the story. In a couple ways.

First, Desecrate was supposed to be a novella. It was supposed to be a short, quick, and punchy story about this kid who finds God trapped in the basement and wants to get fucked by them. That's it.

Desecrate is now a full length novel, actually it's looking to be the longest things I've written! It's going to be a tome of a book split into sections based on a prayer I said growing up. And that was a bit issue and most of the reason why I'm starting over. I started this as a novella, but the pacing stayed as that of a novella even as I expanded it. The dream sequences were just moving too fast, the characters were developing at a rate that would leave them stagnant by halfway through the book, and I just didn't know how to fix it.

Another thing that's changed is the ending. The original ending that I planned the entire story of Desecrate around was an open ending. It was a "Oh my God you found God and you're freeing them and also you're the messiah?" then a cut to black. That's it. End of story.

Then, I was like "okay but what if they escaped and then walked away from humanity and the church and disappeared forever?" to which I went "nah I don't like that that invites a sequel". Then it became "okay so I need to figure out what happens after this scene. I can have this scene, cut to black, then we hit the last quarter of the book and the last prayer transition" to which I realized that no matter what I try, I can't think of another way to end this. Kit's story was meant to be open ended, it was meant to be a story of learning to live with who you are and there will never be an ending satisfying enough for me on that. This story is a love letter to the kid I was growing up, and I can't end that story yet when that kid never got theirs.

Speaking of that last quarter, though, another major part of Desecrate that's changed is the way I use the prayer and dream sequences. The prophetic dreams were a lot more important to the story in it's original iteration. The prayer that the story was created around is this one:

Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep If I shall die before I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take

This is a prayer I grew up saying, one that I forgot about until roughly late 2022. It is one that has become incredibly important to me again as I learned that not a lot of people know that prayer in the area I was raised in. I had to say it every night, though, and I've started to piece together a reason why (that I'm not going to go into depth about here but I will say it is chronic illness related).

So the story takes place in Kit's dreams for the most part after he says his prayer before bed, right? Not anymore.

Now the story is mostly in the waking world, though Kit still has prophetic dreams. It's just become more along the lines of "i don't know what these dreams are and I feel like I'm losing my mind because of them" and then finding out what they mean through his studies and the guiding hand of a scholar.

So yeah, these are the majority of the differences in what Desecrate was pre-scrap and post-scrap. Also I was forced (/hj) to sit down and create a usable time based outline for Desecrate by Clanky when we were in VA and now I have a masturbation calendar for out boy Kit. Just quirky things, y'know?

[bunnytalksf1]

spanish gp roundup

Very overdue post, considering evryones already at austria, but who cares.

Honestly, what a race!

let's start with qualifying, because i did not watch q3 live, and i didnt do a roundup post like i usually do.

Ferrari have not lost pace. it LOOKS like they have, but whats actually happened is that mercedes woke up and decided to be a serious team, and mclaren are now faster than redbull. Perez gave Verstappen a huge tow, only to finish p2 to norris. Piastri made a huge mistake on his last flying lap to get p10 - promoted to p9 after perez's penalty. So essentially the gap from ferrari to RBR is the same, but more cars are IN that gap - both mercs, and mclaren. their race pace is probs right up there with RBR, but the tyre window they'r working with is incredibly small, and they're out of position. p5 and p6 is shocking, and disappointing after looking so good in aus and monaco in particular, but also in jeddah, etc.

due to not watching live i didnt catch the majority of the mid-backfield. hulkenberg again putting the haas in q2, both vcarbs out in q1, which is hugely disappointing.

onto the race.

GEORGE FUCKING RUSSELL?! Whatta move. singlehandedly made my respect for him grow by like 5x. It was shortlived (the RBR still clearly has racepace on the merc) but god. George and Alex both being contenders for overtake of the year rn as they should. He should've got a dotd for that move alone LMAO.

Lando bottling a pole start... yikes. His starts havent been great for a little while now, and he seems to not really know what to do with pole. the zero percent conversion rate... god. It was entirely preventable, too. The move on max was stupid and he got laughed at by lewis and max for defending it in the pressers. The mclaren is faster than the RB but max is still behind its wheel, and he showed us all who he was again this weekend. Unless Lando can shape up, mclaren are unlikely to challenge consistently for wins, since i am of the opinion piastri, although strong, will not have the race pace to fight a) verstappen b) norris in the same car c) leclerc.

Ferrari. No words. Strat was shocking. Need to study carlos sainz under a microscope to figure out where he gets his ego from. Probably going to do a seperate post on them later tonight, but the car (under leclerc) could have podiumed from p5, but they fucked him majorly in the first stint with a) the totally unnecessary contact and b) leaving sainz out front, who was slower.

piastri climbed back up, great race from him. again, i did not watch the race live, i was only listening. so. i missed most of the stuff. perez made up a few places. no safety cars or yellows.

mercedes' race pace isnt bad either. its probably worse than the ferrari's, but if they keep qualifying badly, then their current race pace is fine (although from what I've seen, I think leclerc is locking himself in th sim until he starts getting pole again so).

Overall im excited. Everyone is so, so close going into Austria.

[magicshopaholic]

Weekend Story: A Japanese GP Special (Part 2)

Summary: Years before all the heartbreak and drama, Kim Taehyung walked onto my paddock at Suzuka. Try as I might to look away, he was the only thing I could see on track.

or

How Taehyung and Dilara first met

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 13 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, stress, sexism, jealousy, heavy making out, blowjobs, fingering, dirty talk, sex

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @meirkive, @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio

A/N: This had to be split - it was wayyy too long. Once again, since this was written long long ago and wasn't intended to be posted, there will be minor inconsistencies and differences in style of writing compared to the rest of the series. The biggest of these is probably that it's told from a first person POV, ie. Dilara's POV.

It picks up straight from the end of Part 1 and ends eight months prior to Los Angeles, taking place over the span of a race weekend.

Listen to: “on se plaît” by françoise hardy

part 1 | taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

qualifying

When I wake up, it’s with the momentary fear that I’ve overslept. I lunge for my phone on the bedside table and sigh out loud in relief when I see that I have a good hour before I need to leave for the paddock. I sit up and realise then that not only am I still naked, but that I’m also alone.

It isn’t… shocking. I know we’d fallen asleep together for sure, because I remember my sleep breaking somewhere in the middle of the night as I shifted and feeling Taehyung’s arm around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, his face in my hair and his leg over my hip. But one look at the bathroom tells me that he isn’t in there and another sweep around the room makes it apparent that his clothes have disappeared as well. 

I step out of bed and head straight into the shower, calmly, methodically. There’s something a bit unsettling about this - but I reason with myself that it’s not inconceivable that Taehyung may want to go back to his own room for a shower or a change of clothes, or even just go back to his room. But it’s the fact that he just left, especially when I was asleep. When I come out of the shower, hair in a bun and towel wrapped around me, I even check the dresser for a note or something, followed by my phone for a call or a text or something.

When I find nothing, I give up. I can’t care this much about a boy I just met and fucked - not today. Not on Qualifying day. I officially compartmentalize and, putting on a Red Bull t-shirt, jeans and Doc Martens, I grab Max’s hoodie to return it and throw on a leather jacket (my own hoodie still in the back of Taehyung’s car) and grab my bag. I’m just on my way out when I notice that Tae’s left his hoodie, the black one I’d been wearing all day yesterday. Ignoring it, I head downstairs.

It doesn’t get any better. I’m sitting at a table with Lexie, Max, Alex and Max’s trainer Dean, everyone in Red Bull gear, with a plate piled with nothing but fruit and a bowl of cereal next to it. I don’t want to think about why I’m not hungrier; it becomes more difficult when I spot the group troop into the restaurant and take a table at the back, all looking like they’ve just woken up. Taehyung is in another black hoodie that I’m assuming is Jungkook’s, only because it’s absolutely enormous. It doesn’t matter, though, for it doesn’t escape my attention that even when dressed like a hobo, Taehyung looks absolutely gorgeous, with his hair effortlessly falling into his eyes and face smooth and impassive as usual as he scans the food he walks past with no expression.

It also doesn’t escape my attention that, despite standing at the buffet right across from him, he walks past me as though I’m a stranger. I’m frozen in front of the croissants for a moment, my already elusive appetite disappearing entirely, wondering what the fuck just happened. When I walk back to our table, I realise my plate is empty, but I can’t be bothered. 

Listen, I’m not that girl, alright? I know what a casual hook-up is. I’ve had them, I prefer them a lot of the time. If looked at from a certain point of view, Taehyung was exactly that: a popstar who fooled around with a fan after his concert and fucked her the next night because they happened to live in the same hotel. It’s fine if that’s what it is, I tell myself, even as I feel my heart fall into my stomach at the thought. But I just want to know. 

With a great deal of effort and courage, loathing myself, I actually turn around in my chair to look at the BTS table, hoping I’m wrong and that maybe Taehyung genuinely hasn’t seen me. Instead, Jimin catches my eye and raises his eyebrows, lifting his hand in a half wave. He nudges Taehyung, who seemingly ignores him, heavily focused on his eggs. Even Namjoon notices me and gives me a small smile. 

I turn back in my chair to face my friends, starting to feel a whole different kind of anxiety, not to mention irritation. I force myself to focus on the conversation in front of me and almost cry with relief when Daniel and Michael stop at our table and we all decide to head to the paddock together.

Daniel takes one look at my plate. “Fruit? Where’s the good stuff?”

“I’m not hungry,” I mumble as I push my chair back in and pick up my bag.

“Oi, that’s not healthy at all,” he informs me while Michael nods at his side, both looking very tan and very Australian. Without permission, he snags a slice of toast from the bread station next to him and shoves it at me. “Eat it, come on.” I know by now that Danny is stubborn and if he wants me to eat toast, I’m eventually going to. So instead of arguing, I simply reach forward and bite off a large piece from the slice in his hand and force it down.

“Attagirl,” says Max, clapping me on the back and putting his arm around my shoulder as we all head out. Just as we’re exiting, I sneak another last look at the BTS table. Taehyung’s still looking at his food, his usual smooth and sharp side profile visible, but I could swear that he’d just been looking at me. I can’t be sure, though, but before I can mull over it any further, Max pulls me away and we head to Suzuka.

An hour later, I’ve found an extra Red Bull hoodie that I’m literally snuggling into, given how cold it is at the track. Natalie Pinkham holds a mic before me, asking me what I’m expecting today. I love Natalie but it isn’t the most insightful question, given that I have absolutely no idea what to expect - but the last thing I can do is admit that to the world.

I’m doing what I do best, which is evading, my hands balled into fists in the pockets of my hoodie and strands of my hair blowing in the cold breeze when I hear a collective shriek and I just know, even before I’ve looked up, who it’s for. It’s not surprising, for haven’t I been waiting for them to show up?

I try not to look at them too obviously. I’m still a bit annoyed, if I’m being honest (and worried, but we won’t go there) and frankly, I could care less if they showed up or not. But they do and in some sick coincidence, have to literally pass right by me to get to the Honda camp where I’m presuming they will be briefed on their PR for the day.

Hoseok is the first one I see, dressed par for course in comfy jeans and a jacket. All of them are dressed well - they always are - and walk with confidence, waving occasionally at the tons of Japanese fans in the paddock. He comes in right at the end, standing in the corner next to Jin, looking rather like he’d be anywhere else but here.

I try not to let that get to me - his face always looks like that, I tell myself. But then he shifts slightly to the side and my heart skips a beat, for while Kim Taehyung looked like peak boyfriend material yesterday, today he looks like he belongs on a freaking runway. He’s in black trousers, a white button down and a dark green blazer, hair styled to casual perfection. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he walks along with the rest of the band, all tall and uncaring and incredibly charismatic.

But no. I cannot afford thoughts like these, not when I have zero indication from him as to what’s going on and have a Qualifying to prepare for. They’re walking towards me, though. I have to focus all my energy on Natalie and look anywhere but at him, even while the weakest part of me waits in anticipation for when he will have to walk past me to enter the Red Bull Honda enclosure.

They reach me quicker than expected. Given that I’m in an interview, I don’t actually expect them to say anything at all, but I have to know that Taehyung, who was finger-fucking me about twelve hours ago, will at least look at me. He doesn’t, though; he hangs back a bit behind the group and walks right past me, close enough that I can smell his lotion and cologne as he sweeps past, towering over me.

I don’t know what to think. Thankfully I’m not fully alone; Lexie, after a recovery from bad sushi, is at the paddock today, still looking a little pale. Dark-haired with olive skin and a dancer’s body, she looks a lot like me, enough that people have mistaken us for sisters. I realise only while she’s helping me warm up that she’s missed all the BTS action in the last day and a half. I decide to tell her later, only if and when there’s something worth telling.

Free Practice - the only free practice - begins in an hour. I drive out, head full of numbers and strategies and tactics and come back some ten minutes later with a reasonable amount of feedback. I stay in the car, my helmet off and sipping on warm lemonade from a Red Bull can while I wait for an engineer to bring me the data from my drive. My gaze roams around to finally land on none other than two members of the group standing at the edge of the garage and chatting up a couple of fans.

Not fans as in a throng of screaming girls, but exactly two fans, two girls who are laughing and talking to Taehyung and Jimin, the two biggest flirts of the band. Amidst all the mixed emotions, I once again have no choice but to admire how flawless he looks, one hand on his hip, pushing his blazer back. There’s a moment where Jimin is measuring his pinkie with those of the girls and Taehyung joins in as well. I watch with a sinking feeling in my stomach as one of the girls places her pinkie against his and, when it’s deemed smaller, links their fingers and brings their hands down. 

Taehyung makes no great effort to retrieve his hand; it happens smoothly and casually and ends up back in his pocket. At that moment, still laughing, he looks around and his gaze stops right at me. I look away immediately, mortified at being caught staring at what can only be described as a one-night stand who clearly couldn’t care less. That’s the word, isn’t it? It’s humiliating, to be sure, but more than anything, it’s mortifying. It’s mortifying to know that I more or less fell for a popstar who, since he can’t date, does this more regularly than I would’ve believed; it’s mortifying to know that he got what he came for; and it’s an unprecedented level of embarrassment I feel when i remember how I poured my fucking heart out to him last night about my past.

Sitting there in my car and staring hard at the dials on my steering wheel, I feel a prickle in my eyes. But I know crying isn’t an option. Crying over a boy is not an option and, more importantly, crying in front of my team is absolutely not an option. As a girl, every emotion I display is automatically blown out of proportion; the last thing I need to do is give them more fodder. So instead, I go out again and reach P3 in the FP standings.

We have a break before Qualifying. Lexie and I grab lunch outside the Red Bull building; I’m still on the fence about whether or not to say anything to her about Taehyung. She knows they’re here, of course; she’s as big a fan as I am. We’re just finishing up when she fixes her gaze on something behind me and lets out a low groan.

I turn around to see him on the phone and, indeed, looking over in our direction. “Oh. Yeah, that’s him,” I say uneasily just as he catches my eye and raises a hand in greeting.

“Oh, God, it’s him,” she whispers longingly. “It’s Namjoon. Is he - is he taller in real life. He looks incredible. He looks -” she pauses. “He’s looking right over here.”

“Is he -” Lexie chokes. “Is he coming over here? Does he - do you know him?” All this is asked in furious whispers as Namjoon comes over, now shoving his phone in his pocket and smiling at us.

“Hey, Dilara,” he says easily, a huge contrast to how his stupid band member is being. “We saw you drive - man, how fast do those cars go?” 

“Pretty fast,” I admit, smiling slightly - because, really, how can I not smile back at him? “By the way, this is my trainer and friend, Lexie,” I tell him, pointing to the horny mess that she surely is right now. 

Namjoon immediately greets her with a winning smile and Lexie’s reaction doesn’t disappoint when she nods and stutters out a reply before smiling back. I watch her in mild amusement as he responds like a true gentleman, privately glad that I was a bit more graceful while meeting them - hopefully. Just before he’s about to leave, he turns to me.

“By the way,” he says, picking a grape out of the bowl I offer him, “you really did a number on him.” With that extremely cryptic piece of information, Namjoon waved and strolled back towards the Honda building.

I stay there, frozen, not knowing what he means or how to answer Lexie’s incredulously questioning expression. Well, I think I know what he means because there aren’t a lot of guys I may have done a number on, but… what does he mean? Is Taehyung angry about something? Is that why he’s been avoiding me? Is he shy? Is he - and here’s where I might have to kill myself - regretting last night?

“Dilara!” Lexie snaps her fingers in front of me. “What is it?”

But I can’t answer, because the fury rising in me is essentially clouding everything else. This is ridiculous; I’m at a goddamn race weekend and some guy (that I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen hard for) that’s slept with me is ignoring me like we’re in high school, while his friend comes over hours later to give me the vaguest detail ever? A number on him? Seriously?

“I have to qualify today,” I state. Lexie frowns.

“I - of course, you do. You - what?”

“Yeah, I need to qualify,” I repeat, standing up now. “Think we have time for a track walk?”

We don’t, but that’s beside the point. I’m not spending another moment pining over some jackass, even if he does look like an Adonis, who sneaked out the morning after and can’t be bothered to make eye contact with me. I’m back in the car an hour later, now fully focused on Q1, when my phone buzzes next to me. Lexie picks it up and frowns. “Good luck,” she reads, “from… who’s Tae - wait, Tae - Taehyung?”

Her wide eyes hold too many questions and I don’t have the mental bandwidth to answer them all. “I’ll tell you later,” I say shortly, struggling to stay focused on Qualifying. She gets it and doesn’t probe further, while I strap on my helmet with unnecessary force, now beyond annoyed with the situation. “Don’t reply to it,” is the last thing I say to Lexie before Simon tells me on the radio to head out.

I drive with everything I’ve got, conscious of the fact that I do have Q2 and Q3 to get through. As expected, Q1 ends with me in the top six, and my car gets brought back in to wait for Q2. I look up at the TV to see who I’m competing with: today, a Ferrari and an Alpine have been eliminated, which means both Haases and George Russell as usual have made it into Q2.

I watch the TV while I wait, looking at replays and Max’s final lap which puts him at P1. The camera pans over the Red Bull garage to cover me, Christian and even - my heart jolts - members of BTS standing with headphones on and watching.

Focus, I tell myself immediately as Q2 begins. I get sent in almost five minutes after everyone else in a pursuit of clean air and I zoom out, determined not to let Suzuka get to me. I’m aware that the tradeoff for clean air is that while everyone else might get three attempts, I only get two. It’s no matter, for I go out on a set of soft compound tyres and fly to P1. 

I’m just as shocked as everyone else. It’s not the end of Qualifying, but it’s something, especially on such a treacherous track. My engineers are rattling off streams of encouragement while I drive back, ready for a set of mediums that I will most likely start my race on tomorrow. My P1 position is slipping fast; everyone’s already on their second round. With less than two minutes to go, I’m sent out again. 

I drive with fire in my bones, the adrenaline pumping and the car feeling like butter under me. I start my flying lap with nothing but the track to focus on, just the road and the kerbs, feeling my arms and my neck withstand the pressure of the g-force. I’m midway through sector two, hitting every apex, running into no traffic -

There’s a jolt that almost makes my stomach fall out and I feel myself lifted off the ground before I crash into the barriers with a sickening thud that I know is my poor car getting destroyed. “What the fuck?” I shout furiously into my mic, hearing my own voice shake. “Was that - who was that? Was that Mazepin?”

“That will be investigated, Dilara,” comes Simon’s voice, following some static. “Are you good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I mutter, undoing my seatbelt and stepping out with a marshall’s help. I stumble out of the car, feeling a dull ache in my ankle. I take off my helmet right there to go and inspect my car which, wouldn’t you know it, has the entire rear destroyed.

“Ma’am,” says the marshall behind me, gesturing to the medical car. “You need to get checked out, ma’am.”

I nod and we drive to the medical centre as the red flag signs come on and the Qualifying halts. I comply with the doctors but I am fuming. When Vicki Reid enters the centre, I immediately demand to see a replay. It comforts me that she seems just as angry on my behalf, enough that she hands me her phone immediately so I can see the live replay.

I was right; it was Mazepin. The camera follows my car into sector two behind the Haas on its out lap (out lap!). For some reason, he tries to race me and pushes me off entirely. I wince as I see my car flying into the barriers and hear my own shaky voice as I curse.

The camera then pans to the garage, where the pit crew shouts at the screen, where Christian punches the table and shakes his head, and, in a shot with Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin, Taehyung’s eyes widen as he jerks in shock, with very obvious fear in his eyes.

It’s the only thing right now that can give me pause. I hand the phone back to Vicki as the doctor signs off, telling me my foot might be a bit sore for a couple hours but there’s no reason I can’t race tomorrow. Then we walk back to the garage just as Q3 begins - but I can’t give a fuck about Q3 right now; I’m so mad. I also can’t get Taehyung’s face out of my mind. Both the others in the shot had looked shocked as well but Tae… he’d looked terrified.

It turns out that since I had such a good lap time before I crashed out, I start at P11 tomorrow. Christian hugs me and agrees that it doesn’t make up for anything, that he’s going to make sure Mazepin gets a penalty for this, and that we’re going to work on a strategy tomorrow to fix this. I nod, trying not to scream out of anger. I go straight to the mechanics and start to apologise but one of them cuts me off with a hug, telling me they’re just glad I got out okay.

I make it through what remains of Q3 with Lexie, watching as Max puts the car on pole. In a surprising twist of events, Seb and Alonso get penalized for racing each other, both of them receiving three-place grid penalties, pushing me up to P9. It’s not great, but it’s something. 

As the post-qualifying interviews take place, I head out of the garage to the fridge to get myself a bottle of water. Since I didn’t participate in Q3, my interviews are already done. Just as I’m about to open the door, a slender hand appears in front of me, a white gold band around the index finger, and opens the door for me.

Ignoring how my heart skips a beat, I refuse to turn around and instead just take a bottle. “Are you okay?” he asks, the first thing he’s said to me since whispering sweet nothings into my ear last night while we lay naked in bed together. 

“Mhm,” I answer shortly. “What, were you worried about me?” I can’t keep the slight scoff out of my voice, even as I try hard to act like I don’t care that he’s been ignoring me all day. 

“Of course I was,” he replies immediately, like it’s the most obvious thing. “I think I’ll be this worried every single weekend from now on.”

Every single weekend. I pause while screwing the cap back on the bottle. I just can’t deal with this anymore. How complicated is this guy? Why is he so determined to act like I don’t exist, even while he’s sending me good luck messages and fearing for my life?

I finally look up at him just as Vicki calls both of us for a group picture. We both look to see the rest of the band, Max, Christian, Geri and the head of Honda waiting for us. We nod at the same time just when Taehyung turns back to me, almost taking my breath away with how good he looks.

“By the way,” he says, and his voice is suddenly lower, smoother, “you’re really cute when you get jealous.” With his trademark smirk and eyebrow raise, he takes a couple of steps back before turning around and strutting over to the group.

Okay, not that complicated. 

I don’t know what it is exactly that I’m feeling as I follow him slowly. There’s too many emotions flooding through me, relief and annoyance tied for the top spot. But as I watch him reach the group and turn around to face the camera and lock eyes with me, arm raised slightly in a silent call for me to come stand next to him, I know that despite everything else I may be feeling, I don’t back down from a challenge.

You have no idea what you’ve done, Kim, I think silently as I walk up and stand beside him. He’s clearly glad; I can see a smile appear on his smooth face as he rests his hand on my left shoulder. Hesitating briefly and checking that it’s just Seokjin standing behind him, I lean into him very slightly and place my hand on his back, taking care to slide it up. I’m looking straight into the camera but I can see in my periphery how his smile widens into a real smile as opposed to his model smile. Swallowing the relief I’m too stubborn to acknowledge, I smile, too.

The driver’s briefing isn’t for another hour so everyone is hanging out in the press room. Half the drivers are in team briefings and the journalists are also nowhere to be seen, giving the drivers and, in this case, BTS some free time after Qualifying. It’s a pretty comfortable room, almost like a lounge, with food and drink spread out on tables along the sides.

Since Taehyung and I can’t approach each other in public, I use this opportunity to consider what I’m feeling. Thankfully Lexie isn’t here, which means I don’t need to get into the story of it with her, but it also means that I’m figuring this out alone. 

You look cute when you’re jealous. I could kill him. Literally get on top of him, wrap my fingers around his throat, squeeze hard until he flips us over and smirks at me, long hair falling in his eyes -

“Goddamnit,” I whisper out loud and pour myself a coffee. I don’t move, however; I stay standing at the table when, to my horror, I catch a whiff of a familiar scent of lotion and cologne until Taehyung comes to stand right next to me, oh so casually scanning the sandwich bar. I don’t know if he’s here to talk to me or what, but I’m saved from guessing when Daniel Ricciardo sidles up on my other side and sneaks my coffee out from right in front of me.

“Finders keepers, Komyshan,” he says cheekily, clapping my shoulder. “Want a bite? I got the last one.” I look up to see him holding a brownie in his hand. I nod vigorously so he lowers it to my mouth and I take a bite from his hand.

“Oh, wow,” I mumble through a mouthful of brownie. “Of course you got the last one.”

“Yeah, I’m fast,” he says cockily, grinning and brushing a crumb off my cheek. Next to me, I hear a clang, possibly of a cup being slammed on a saucer. Danny hasn’t noticed, speaking to Max across the room, but I have and I turn very slightly to look at Taehyung. He isn’t looking at me either, but he’s biting his lip and his jaw looks hard enough to cut glass. 

I take a tiny step back so my shoulder brushes against his arm but he makes no move to acknowledge it. I turn around a bit more as Danny leaves and - I can hardly believe it - see Taehyung glare in his direction before turning around wordlessly and stalking back towards the rest of the band. Jimin is stifling a laugh with his fist while Hoseok isn’t even bothering with that, but all it does is give me the perfect idea - so perfect, that I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see it.

I turn to survey Daniel Ricciardo where he’s sitting in light blue jeans and a long-sleeved McLaren t-shirt, curls long and thick. When it comes down to it, Danny is the opposite of Taehyung in every way: he’s loud, unsubtle, white, hardcore millennial, and can’t sing or dance to save his life. But despite all that, no one can deny that if there’s one similarity between them, it’s that Daniel Ricciardo is god-tier hot when he wants to be. 

For a moment, I reconsider. Maybe I’m being too petty? I look down at my phone to check the time and see one unopened message on WhatsApp. It’s the same one from Taehyung that he’d sent me during qualifying, wishing me luck. The same time that I’d been agonizing on the inside as to whether he gave two shits about me at all. 

And the decision is made.

I make my way over to where Danny is sitting on the sofa and connecting his phone to the stereo’s Bluetooth. He’s just played some vague R&B track when I reach him and place a hand on the back of the sofa behind him, essentially leaning over him. He looks up to see me and immediately frowns.

“Uh, what’s happening?” he asks, blunt as ever.

I consider lying for a moment but then sigh. “I’m trying to make someone jealous and I need your help.”

His frown clears somewhat. “What - what do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Come on, you’re a guy. You know exactly what I mean.”

His face relaxes into a grin. “Yeah, I do. It’s a risky game, padawan,” he says, cocking his head and leaning back against the couch. “Risky, but effective.”

I smile back. “Great. So, can you just… do something that’ll piss him off?”

Danny’s gaze flickers away from me momentarily before he tilts his chin slightly higher towards me and suddenly, goofy Dan’s gone and sexy Dan from Monaco 2016 is here. “I think you talking to me in such close proximity is doing it already.”

My heart skips a beat. “Really? Is he - is he looking? Wait -” I bite my lip. “How do you even know who I’m talking about?”

He gives me a look. “I’m guessing it was the bloke in your room last night wearing nothing but a towel?” I can’t stop myself from smiling as I lower my head, hoping I’m not blushing. “Oh, that was great. Do that again,” he tells me. “Guys hate it when another guy makes their girl laugh.”

“Okay, so tell me something funny,” I say, ignoring how my heart zooms at that..

“Technically, it’s Bon Iver,” he says, leaning back as well. “But, yes, it’s exile by Taylor Swift.”

Danny bites his lip and grins, sitting forward so his face is closer to mine. “You know, I don’t know why you need my help,” he says. “You really seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Of course, that makes me smile in pride again. Just then a song plays on the stereo that I recognize. “Wait, is this Taylor Swift?” I ask, genuinely surprised as I stand upright.

“Wow,” I exclaim, flopping on the couch next to him. “Who would’ve thunk it? I mean, I love this song. Like, love.”

“Doesn’t everyone? Okay, here we go - I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending,” he begins singing, face screwed up in mock angst.

“So who am I defending now?” I join in, one octave higher, just as passionately again. All games of jealousy forgotten, we belt out the entire song together, neither of us very good, a sub-par impromptu duet in the middle of the press room. When the bridge begins, Danny pulls me up as I throw a grape at Lando who’s snickering and filming us.

“All this time,” he sings, clutching a pretend mic, “I never learned to read your mind.”

“Never learned to read my mind,” I echo, loving this song all over again.

“So many signs,” we sing together, just as he grabs my right hand and spins me around before pulling me in. I giggle in surprise as Lando and Max mockingly hoot and continue filming us. We’re sure to make it onto one Lando Norris’s Instagram today when I see a flash of something dark disappear out the door. I freeze as Danny falls to his knees beside me, belting out the last note, because I think I know what it is. 

As the song ends, I feel the smallest bit of guilt creeping into my stomach because I know that I’ve crossed a line, that I may just have taken a fresh, intimate memory with Taehyung and tainted it with a petty agenda.

Slowly, I turn towards where the rest of the group is seated and I know instantly that I’m right. None of them look surprised per se; the only one who catches my eye is Jimin, who has a mildly exasperated look on his face, and shakes his head slightly at me, essentially letting me know it’s not good. I nod and immediately excuse myself, hurrying out the door. 

It’s not too hard to find him. The press office is about twenty yards away from the Red Bull energy station and the Honda office. When I reach the enclosure, I spot a tall figure standing at the edge of the garage, scrolling through his phone with his other hand in his pocket. Taehyung looks up to see me, face smooth and impassive as ever, revealing nothing.

But I know him. I know, it’s been a day and a half, but I know him. I know this, at least. I know he’s angry, hurt, jealous - or some combination of the three. We look at each other in silence for a moment, alone for the first time since he sneaked out on me this morning. That memory is all I need to remember why I did this in the first place.

I turn on the spot and start walking. I don’t turn around to see if he’s following me because if I know him as well as I think I do, I know he is. He’s probably looking like a runway model while he does it, but he’s doing it. I keep walking until I reach my changing room and unlock the door, entering and turning around only when I hear the door lock behind me.

I stand with my arms folded across my chest as Taehyung leans back against the table at the opposite end of the room, hands in his pockets, surveying me coldly. I swallow; this isn’t how I was picturing the next time we’d be alone together. I don’t want to apologise - I won’t. I force myself to think about how I’d feel if I saw him dancing like that with one of those fangirls and I instantly want to throw something.

I lick my lips slowly. “Okay,” I say finally. “I know I may have gone a bit too far just now. But you know… you did ignore me all fucking day and - what are you doing?”

He’s taken off his jacket and pauses while unbuttoning one of the cuffs of his shirt. He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Keep going.”

I clench my jaw. “You sneaked out on me this morning. You really didn’t want to deal with the awkward morning-after with a one-night stand? You could’ve dropped me a text. Do you think I’m some pathetic, needy - okay, seriously, what are you doing?”

Taehyung’s rolled back both his sleeves to just below his elbows and is unbuttoning his shirt, stopping when I exclaim, just before his pecs start. His expression is unmoving; cold, smooth, impassive, with cheekbones that would put any model to shame. He slowly takes a step towards me, and then another, and another until he has me backed up against the wall.

“Keep going,” he repeats, voice deep and calm. Too calm. He licks his lips slowly and nods at me to continue.

“I -” I struggle to steady my breathing. He’s so close; his bangs fall into his dark eyes and he flicks them out, gaze unmoving. “I’m not a clingy lay. If you’d - if you’d had enough, you could’ve told me,” I add, breath stuttering when his hands reach for my belt and start deftly undoing it, slender fingers unbuttoning my jeans and unzipping it.

“Keep going,” he says a third time, not taking his eyes off me for even a moment. “Or do you want me to stop?”

Fuck. It sounds quietly threatening but I know, just like I knew that he was pissed, just like I knew that he’d follow me, that underneath the suppressed fury, he’s asking me for my consent. And, man, does he have it.

I swallow, looking him back in the eye and trying to ignore his fingers lightly brushing me through the denim. “I - you didn’t even look at me when we were sitting in the same fucking restaurant,” I continue in a low voice. The slightest of smirks appears at the corner of his mouth as his hand slips into my jeans. When he softly palms me through my underwear, I let out a gasp and see him raise an eyebrow and I’m shocked at how wet I am.

“I did. I just didn’t want you to see.” His voice is deep and sultry and I’m powerless to stop. 

“And then you were - you were walking around, looking all famous and sexy,” I stutter, squeezing my eyes shut when he presses the ball of his palm against my clit. I have to struggle not to moan out loud. “I had to just sit around in the garage watching you do your fanservice while I was just sitting…” I finally open my eyes and look at him, silently pleading, “... inside.”

The smirk grows but he doesn’t comply - not until I let out an actual moan and shut my eyes involuntarily. He slips two fingers in and I lean my head back against the wall and bite down on my lower lip, hard.

“Keep going.”

I nod, not wanting him to stop. “I was - I was so mad at you and then I got sad and then - then I decided to… to be mad again,” I ramble on, barely aware of what I’m saying while his fingers curl inside me and his thumb brushes against my clit. “Oh, fuck, Taehyung,” I gasp, letting go of all pretense.

Apparently the sound of his name is all he needed to hear. His eyes darken under his long hair and all signs of teasing leave his face. “You were mad at me?” he asks, his voice a deep, rumbling mess. His thumb presses against my clit without warning and I raise my hand to clutch his shirt but he preempts it and grabs it, holding it against the wall.

“Yeah, I - I was.” I force myself to look him in the eye, this incredibly hot, sexy, jealous Taehyung that I’d do anything for right now. “Especially when - when you tried to make me jealous? You really thought that would work?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t it?” he asks coolly.

His thumb is drawing circles against my clit now and I know I have maybe a minute at most before I come all over his hand. “Sure,” I manage, “but I think my plan worked out a lot better.”

I’m provoking him and I’m not surprised when it works. Taehyung says nothing, but his jaw hardens and his fingers move faster. He lowers his head slightly and I think for a moment that he’s about to kiss me, but he tilts it at the last moment so his lips hover near my ear.

I’m so close now. “Oh, God,” I whisper, shutting my eyes and tilting my head back. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…” My leg bends at the knee of its own accord and I feel my stomach contracting when suddenly, his fingers disappear and he places his hand on my hip.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” A deep murmur against my neck and he retreats, still standing right in front of me, looking unbelievably smug.

“I hate you,” I groan, shaking my head and resting it back against the wall. 

“I know. Looks like you’ll have to take care of it yourself.”

“Mhm,” I nod, “or find someone else to take care of it for me.”

And there it is. Taehyung’s face clouds over again. “Really?”

I nod, though, pushing my luck at this point. Brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, I speak and move my mouth closer to his. “I mean, I’d really prefer you to do it but… you saw my other options, right?”

It works like a fucking charm. Thirty seconds later I’m so close, so close that I’m clutching the front of his shirt and moaning his name, trying my hardest not to be too loud. His lips are at my jaw and trailing down to my neck until they reach my ear and he whispers for me to come for him.

“Fuck,” I mutter two minutes later, panting in the aftermath of that glorious orgasm. Taehyung’s looking down at me in a mixture of lust and fondness and for a moment I can’t quite believe that I’d thought he’d considered me just a one-night stand. He places his hands back on my hips and waits for me to finish buttoning my jeans and buckling my belt before pulling me in for a surprisingly sweet kiss.

I respond without hesitation, lightly tugging on the collar of his shirt and savouring him after what feels like ages. Taehyung does, too, pushing me back against the wall and running his hand up my back before pulling away reluctantly. “Will I see you again tonight?” he asks, his previously narrowed eyes now wider and more hopeful. His eyes search my face as though he hasn’t seen it in ages and he runs his thumb across my cheek.

I bite my lip. I’m sure it hasn’t slipped his mind either that my flight leaves tomorrow right after the race; I’d mentioned it to him last night and we’d both become quiet for a few moments before he’d hastily changed the subject. I don’t want to talk about it right now, though. 

“Yeah, of course,” I answer, brushing his long hair out of his eyes. His face breaks out into a soft smile as he pulls me closer to him. 

“Good.” He lowers his head and kisses me again, the same nice, toe-curling kiss, so unlike what happened when we first entered the room. We both leave minutes apart; he goes back to the group and I head over for the drivers’ briefing, feeling all tingly and fucked out, the spots on my neck still feeling hot from when he’d kissed me there.

Nikita Mazepin gets horribly called out for his stupid move that fucked up my Qualifying. Apart from that, I can barely focus on the briefing; in any case, most of the session is taken up by Seb and Fernando arguing over their incident after which I hitch a ride back to the hotel with Max, Lexie and Dean with us. I head straight into the shower and emerge twenty-five minutes later, hair clean and curly.

Wrapped in a towel with my wet hair down one shoulder, I gingerly pick up my phone, wondering what to tell Taehyung. I have to see him tonight; there’s no question about that. The fact that it’s our last night together has dawned on me all of a sudden and it’s making my stomach twist so unpleasantly that I think I may throw up. It’s inconceivable that I’m this attached to a man I met only forty-eight hours ago - but it’s happening, and the dread feels like it’s looming..

But when I open my chat with him and look at the last message (Good luck) and all the pictures before that, my heart stutters. I open my favourite one, the one that had become my favourite the moment I’d seen it: I’m on his back while he walks, my arms around his shoulders and one hand clutching his baseball cap. My hair is long and wavy, falling to one side as I turn my head towards him and kiss his cheek. Taehyung’s face - and this is my favourite part - is caught in what I can only describe as wonderfully surprised, eyes slightly wide but his smile even wider as he looks into the camera. Our faces are lit by the sunlight, our hair looking bright and black against our white t-shirts. Matching outfits.

We haven’t talked at all about how we feel about each other. It doesn’t make sense that we would; a weekend fling is barely a fling, yet somehow I know that this is just as confusing for him as it is for me. Just as I’m contemplating it even further, my phone buzzes and I almost drop it when I see Taehyung’s name. Heart skipping a beat, I answer it.

“Hey, beautiful.” His voice is deep and raspy as always, and I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing.

“Hey, handsome,” I reply, smiling wider than I should. “I’m back at the hotel; do you want to meet?”

“Yeah, I know. Hobi hyung saw you and your friend Max in the lobby. Are you free now? We should talk.”

“Um…” Technically, I’m free. I’m just in a towel. But there’s something different about his tone, apart from the fact that he wants to talk. “Where are you? I’ll meet you.”

“Oh, uh…” This time, he falters. “I’m actually on your floor… not too far from your room,” he adds, sounding slightly sheepish. “I’m sorry, I can wait. Let me know when you’re free.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” I say quickly. “You can come in. Just…” I look into the full-length mirror; aside from the fact that I’m in a towel with wet hair, I look okay. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” Phone still at my ear, I go to the door and look through the peephole. Even distorted, his figure takes my breath away. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, I open the door and step back behind it, letting him in. He enters and looks around for a moment before spotting me and his eyes widen.

“Oh… I can - I can come back if you’re - if you need a few minutes to -”

“Tae,” I interrupt, shutting the door behind him, “you saw me naked for hours last night. It’s okay.”

He raises an eyebrow in agreement. “True. You still look beautiful,” he says generously, kissing me on the cheek.

“So many compliments,” I remark teasingly, walking past him and into the bedroom so I can change. “Not all of us have stylists that can make us look all effortless and sexy all the time, you know.”

“How was the briefing?” he asks, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, letting out a low whistle as I let my towel drop.

Taehyung laughs as he follows me inside. “I’ve changed out of the sexy clothes now in any case, if that helps.” And he has. I don’t know how he manages to do it, but in the time I’ve known him, he’s gone from idol post concert, to boyfriend date material, to runway model, and back to cuddly boyfriend material. Now, in a baggy black sweater and dark grey joggers, I feel like climbing into bed with him and doing nothing else.

I throw the towel at him before starting to pull on my clothes. "It was okay. Just have to hope it doesn't rain tomorrow or we're going to have to prepare ourselves for a ton of crashes," I tell him, shuddering a little at the thought.

"What happened to the idiot who crashed into you?" Taehyung's question is casual enough, but I can hear the snippy edge to it. 

"He got a penalty. That's the best we can get, believe me," I add when he scoffs. "What, were you really that worried?" I ask again, a little teasingly this time, now fully dressed and walking up to him.

"Of course, I was," he says in a low voice, pulling me to him by the hand so I come between his legs, and wrapping his arms around my waist. "I think it might’ve killed me if you'd gotten hurt," he adds in a mumble, pulling me in further.

Rolling my eyes a bit at his dramatics, I hug him back automatically as he tilts his head slightly and rests his forehead on the side of my neck. Softly, I run my fingers through his long hair, breathing in his scent, overwhelmingly touched by how worried he was.

The longer we stay there, the more the hug seems to become less about my crash and more about just holding each other - no, clutching each other, but without making it obvious that we are.

"I need to tell you something," he says quietly after a while, his hold on me loosening slightly.

I pull away and step back. "Okay," I say slowly, suddenly nervous about what to expect. 

Taehyung stands up, hands in his pockets, head bent low as though contemplating what to say. "I know I was being a bit…" He's searching for the word, I realise. He's nervous. "... distant today," he says after a few moments. "I didn't realise how it would look to you. That you'd think that I didn't care or - or you were a fling or whatever."

His eyes flicker up to me for a moment, as though making sure I'm still here. "It was really the opposite, actually. I felt… a lot of things. It was confusing and - and I needed to figure it out by myself before I…" He trails off. "Basically, I think… Dilara, I think -"

My eyes widen the moment I realise what he's about to say. "Taehyung -"

"- I'm in love with you."

My heart jolts so hard I think it may break. "No," I breathe, realising too late that I've said it out loud.

His face falls very slightly, but remains the same smooth, impassive one I saw all day. He looks at the floor, hands still in his pockets and long hair obscuring his face from me, clearly processing a reaction he didn't expect.

"I'm - I'm sorry," I stutter. "I didn't mean… Tae, why would you tell me that?" I ask, hearing how desperate I sound.

He gives a small shrug. "It's how I feel."

"But… but you know nothing can happen," I say, shaking my head. "Why would you -"

"I know nothing can happen. I just want you to know how I feel," he says, and I think I hear a note of impatience there as well. When I don't reply, he scoffs. "What, is that so bad?"

"It's not bad at all, Tae," I say quickly, trying to blink back tears now. "But you're just making this harder! We know we can't be -"

"Dilara, I know, okay?" he snaps. "This is hard for me, too. You think I expected to fall in love with a world-famous athlete one fine weekend? You think I planned this?"

I bite my lip. "Do you regret it?"

"Meeting you? Not a single moment," he answers immediately. "I just want you to know." He pauses. "I'd want to know."

You know, though. It's obvious; he knows how I feel, too. The way he's looking at me, how he knew I'd follow him out of the drivers' lounge - it makes complete sense. I'm in love with him, too - not V of BTS, but Kim Taehyung, Tae, the man who knew to take me to hang out with puppies and slow danced with me in the middle of nowhere, who got jealous because he saw me do the same with another man.

"Tae…" I bite my lip, feeling my eyes prickle. “Of course, I -” But I can’t continue. Saying it is a whole lot different from simply feeling it; putting it out there, establishing that we love each other, especially when we know it can go nowhere - it’s insane.

I take a deep breath but it comes out all ragged and I cringe, hoping he doesn’t notice but it’s pointless, for a second later he’s walking up to me and taking my hands in his, gently pulling me closer.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, running his thumb over my knuckles. “I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But I shake my head and look up at him. “I don’t regret anything either,” I tell him honestly. “I just… it’s a lot, you know? It’s scary.” He bites his lip, looking very much as though he’s trying to understand. I don’t know how else to put it, so I just reach up and kiss him, hard and deep, hoping it conveys what I need it to.

For a moment I think he’s going to push me away, but at the last moment he pulls me closer to him by my waist, so close, so tight, like he’s afraid he’ll never get the chance again. Which he might not, I think as I pull at his hair, and the thought makes me want to cry again.

We land up in bed, neither of us willing to let the other go. It’s a combination of haste, fear, desperation - and love. So much love. I may not be able to say it but I want him to know, too. I hold his face when I can, mark his neck and chest as much as I can, moan his name as loud as I can. Somewhere during it all, when Taehyung’s lowered himself down and has his head between my legs, I say it.

I don’t know if he’s heard it; it’s only a whisper and the only indication he gives me that he may have heard it is a slight pause with his tongue, where he pulls away for a moment and kisses my inner thigh before continuing. When we’re done, we’re done. I’m fucking exhausted, with being on my feet all day, a Qualifying, constantly worrying about whether or not I’ve been pseudo-dumped.

“I have to go,” says Taehyung after a while, voice soft and deep. I look up from where our fingers are intertwined on my torso, suddenly fearful. He turns to look at me and hurriedly adds, “Just for a while. We have to do a livestream on our last day in Japan and Namjoon hyung wants all of us there.”

I nod, not knowing how else to respond. “Okay. I’ll go get dinner, then. I’m sure Lexie has me on the most boring chicken and salad for race weekend, even in the land of sushi.” I’m rambling and I know it, as I sit up and start looking for my clothes, avoiding his gaze.

“I’ll see you after, okay?” Taehyung appears in my peripheral vision, pulling on his t-shirt and joggers. He ruffles his hair and we meet in front of the bed. There’s a moment where we don’t know what to do. I can tell he’s hesitating, the fact that I haven’t said I love him not skipping his mind. I don’t want to particularly prolong this either, but something just feels… too much. It’s too overwhelming, the looming feeling of a goodbye to a person I barely know.

I see him raise his hand slightly, so I immediately take a small step back. “Yeah. See you later.” 

He drops his hand and nods. At the last moment, he kisses the top of my head and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.

sweet night

An hour later, I get back to my room after an early dinner with Lexie. I told her everything - everything except the I love you part. She seemed to have pieced at least part of it together by the time I told her, but she hung on to every detail, gasping at all the right parts, whistling when I told her how good the sex was (because it so was).

She’d groaned more about the fact that I’d actually met some of them. “God, I hope they come to another race. Stupid food poisoning.”

Now, I stand alone in my bedroom, wondering what to do now. On a normal race weekend, I’d have dinner with Lexie (and Fred and Chris if they were there), take a warm shower, maybe go out for a walk with my earphones on, and go to bed early. Now, all I can think about is Taehyung - or, more specifically, the lack of Taehyung after tomorrow.

What am I supposed to do? Do we say goodbye? Is it a break-up? Or is it just an amicable farewell, acknowledging a fun weekend and going our own way? I might have thought it was the latter, until he blurted out the L word. I’m almost mad at him for complicating it like this, enough that I have half a mind to ghost him if he calls and avoid the shit out of him until I have to leave for my flight. It’s a bitchy, bitchy move, but it could just be the only way to avoid any real heartbreak.

A small, tiny part of me is happy, though. No, not happy. Ecstatic. A part of me is fucking ecstatic that he loves me, that Kim fucking Taehyung fell in love with me in less than two days, that average old me managed to confuse the sexiest, most talented and mysterious person I’ve ever met. Of course, I fell in love with him, too. There’s no point denying it now, not to myself. Weekend fling or not, I’m completely in love with Taehyung; I just don’t know where it takes us from here.

When I meet him later that night, I still don’t know. He calls me about half an hour after I’m done with dinner, asking if I want to come over. I can’t stay cooped up in a hotel room, though, so I suggest that we go to the gardens, to the most secluded area we can find. He agrees, and I meet him ten minutes later, wearing my leather jacket over a baggy Beatles t-shirt and sweatpants. Coincidentally enough, Tae’s still in the same light sweater and joggers, with a long black overcoat thrown on top of it.

You’re even wearing matching outfits. Jungkook’s voice rings through my head when I see him, when he sees me and he smiles. It’s not his normal boxy smile; it’s smaller, sadder, but so heartbreakingly beautiful that I can’t help it, and even before I say hi, I blurt it out.

“Saranghae.”

There’s a brief pause where he stares at me as if he’s heard it wrong - or I’ve said it wrong - and I want to slap myself for deliberately complicating it because, really, why did I have to go say it in Korean? Chris would lose his shit if he heard you right now, Komyshan. I take a deep breath, hoping to say literally anything to cover it up, but he smiles again and chuckles.

“Really?”

It’s out there now. I wait for the regret to come but looking at how obviously happy it makes him, I can’t seem to find it. I bite my lip, feeling myself smile as well. “Yeah. Saranghae… very much.”

That makes him laugh, his deep, throaty laugh as he walks over to me and hugs me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my head. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, and I know he means it. I hug him back, tightly, suddenly glad I’ve said it because it might just have been my only chance.

We don’t talk about anything deep after that; I think we both consciously stay away from it, not wanting our last night together to be any harder than it already is. I have a race tomorrow and he senses that I’m stressing almost immediately. So we talk about the race. I explain the track to him, why Suzuka is harder than most, why the expectations from me are sky high while I’m in the privileged yet unfortunate position to be Max Verstappen’s teammate. 

He listens with complete concentration. Eventually we sit under a clump of trees, nothing but us and the grass and softly chirping crickets. 

“It’s bad enough doing Suzuka for the first time,” I sigh, absently pulling blades of grass out of the ground. “But doing it from P9? So fucking unfair.” I want to kick something before I immediately remind myself to calm down. “Nope. Nope. I can’t… uh, I can’t do this.”

Taehyung frowns. “Can’t do what?”

“I can’t stress or get angry or - or do anything that takes my focus away from the race. Not tonight.” And it’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head. I know now, finally, what’s been bothering me all day, while he was supposedly ignoring me, when he told me he loved me, when I told him the same.

I must look troubled, for I feel his hand on my knee. “Dilara?”

My eyes rise slowly to meet his. “Tae,” I begin, swallowing, hating this but knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that I have to do this. He raises his eyebrows slightly in response. “I - can I ask you for something?”

He nods. “Anything.”

Goodbye, Tae. You’re going to hate me forever. I lick my lips slowly. “Can - can you…” I take in his big, concerned eyes, his long hair and how he’s biting down on his lip in anticipation, and it’s too hard. “Forget it. I can’t ask you to do that,” I say instead, shaking my head.

But he doesn’t let it go. “Dilara,” he says again, squeezing my knee. “Come on. Ask me.”

I think about how much he says he cares, how much he wants me to succeed. Maybe this is how I see if it’s true. “Can you - can you not come to the race tomorrow? To the paddock?” The silence that follows my question seems deafening. “It’s just… I need to focus tomorrow, more than ever. And with you there… I just don’t think that’s possible.”

Taehyung’s face is back to being its smooth, impassive one. I can’t tell what he’s thinking and for a moment I’m deathly afraid that I’ve said something very wrong. But then he nods once. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” I say without thinking. “I just don’t know if I can handle -” I break off again but this time because my throat gets stuck and I can feel myself, finally, about to cry.

He seems to realise it, too. “Hey, no, don’t apologise,” he says softly, picking up my hands and bringing them to his chest. “Dilara, it’s okay. You’re going to be amazing tomorrow,” he tells me, bringing one hand up to my face and looking me right in the eyes. “Don’t worry about me. You’ll be great.” He chuckles softly, almost as though he’s just realised it himself. “You’re a force of nature, baby.” 

I nod, my vision starting to blur now. “Don’t forget me, okay?” I say quickly, sniffling and looking at the ground.

Taehyung scoffs quietly, and I can tell he’s on the verge of losing control, too. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he murmurs, reaching forward and kissing me. I lean into the kiss immediately, without question, without shame. He pulls me onto his lap and I comply, straddling him and holding his face, kissing him so deeply, knowing now with certainty that I will never get this chance again, that this is finally goodbye.

I can feel his ring against the side of my face as he kisses me back with the same desperation and longing, both of us forgetting where we are, what time it is, what’s to come tomorrow. It’s just Taehyung; there’s nothing else in the world for me right now. Our kisses are all lips and tongue and teeth, nipping at each other’s lips and grabbing whatever we can: shoulders, hair, waist, clothes, chest, hips. 

I don’t know when we separate and finally decide to walk back to the hotel building. We still have to keep a reasonable distance between us so we enter separately but get into the same elevator. The walk until there is silent; we’ve exhausted everything we needed to say to each other. Anymore and we break down and I, at the very least, cannot afford to do that tonight. I have to hold it in; I don’t have a choice.

Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones in the elevator. It’s a Japanese couple and businessman already in there when we enter, giving us no choice but to stand quietly, separately. My floor arrives before his but when the doors open, I’m suddenly rooted to the spot. It’s not until I feel Tae’s hand brush my back and nudge me forward that I actually step forward and out. As the doors close, I glance back one last time, seeing his smooth, impassive face looking back at me.

When I head back to my room, I shut the door behind me and pause. I have to collect myself; I cannot break down tonight. This race is too important and my Qualifying disadvantage means that I need double the focus, double the determination, double the mental strength to cut through the field and finish at a decent position. 

I take a seat on the sofa, breathing slowly through my nose, focusing on it as much as I can. I lean back when I feel something soft behind me. I reach for it and see a black hoodie, the same one I wore to a dog park a million years ago and the same one I saw this morning, thinking my one-night stand had accidentally forgotten it.

I pull out my phone and, hesitating, drop him a message. I have your hoodie, I write and send it. I don’t say anymore, like how it smells of him, how wearing it would probably feel like a hug from him, how much I’m hoping I can keep it.

The reply comes almost instantly. And I have yours.

---

The next morning when I wake up, my heart hurts and for a moment I can’t remember why. Then I feel the soft material of the hoodie I fell asleep clutching and I remember. Do not cry, I remind myself sternly. Not today. I bury my nose in the soft fleece interior for a moment and take a deep breath before I swing my legs over the side and get ready for the day.

I enter the restaurant for breakfast warily, but it’s pointless, for no one from the group is here yet. I suppose they’re sleeping in, given it’s a Sunday, for which I’m thankful. Lexie and I eat breakfast with Max and Dean and Lando and Blake, before heading down to the paddock.

I try to immerse myself in anything and everything that will distract me from how heavy my chest still feels. I focus on literally every word Christian and Simon say to me, trying to forget how deep Taehyung’s voice sounded in my ear; I go over my newly repaired car with the mechanics, trying to forget how Taehyung’s arms looked as he hovered over me in the grass on Friday. It’s near impossible, but I try my best.

Evidently it’s not working great, because something seems to show on my face. Max asks, Danny asks, Seb asks. Even Natalie Pinkham asks - on camera. I shake my head each time and make a joke about it simply being a resting bitch face, trying not to think about another resting bitch face I’ve come to know and love recently.

When the band enters the paddock, I can feel my heart in my mouth. I watch them pass by me, agonizingly counting only six members as they enter the garage. I try to avoid them. I feel like even the slightest reminder of Taehyung can reduce me to tears at any moment. It’s bad enough when Lexie tells me nonchalantly that apparently Tae is feeling under the weather which is why he isn’t here; even eye contact with those guys would be too much.

I hold it together with immense effort all through the day, during the pre-race build-up, the parade - everything. The real trouble comes just before the race, after I’m in my unzipped race suit, hair pinned back specifically so it fits comfortably inside the balaclava. Everyone’s wishing me luck since I’m due in the car in about five minutes; Christian is thanking the sponsors and chatting everyone up, and it’s too late before I realise the group that’s slowly forming around us.

The six BTS members present are finally here, for the customary picture or some sort of PR appearance, probably. I’ve seen them around the garage today, of course; they’ve all wished me luck at some point or the other, in passing. But seeing them here, all together - it just highlights the fact that one of them is missing… because I told him to be. When I look at the rest of the guys, I can’t help but imagine something accusatory in the way they’re looking at me.

My chest feels heavy again. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake, or if it even matters. I suddenly feel so alone, so alone without him which doesn’t make sense, just like everything else. I’m twenty minutes away from the race, fifteen from being out there on the track, ten from settling inside the car - and I feel like my heart could break.

Before I know it, I can feel my face contorting and all my resolve to not cry since last night shatters, and I break down. Right there in the middle of the garage, in front of Lexie, Christian, Simon, a bunch of mechanics - and the members of BTS. I hide my face in my hand immediately, trying not to sob, and excuse myself, hurrying into my dressing room and shutting the door behind me.

All I can hope for is that the Red Bull folks think it’s nerves about my starting position and nothing else. BTS, I’m sure, will know it’s not but there’s nothing I can do about that. I don’t care what they think of me; they don’t know, I tell myself, how hard it is, how bleak it all seems now that it’s the end. There’s only one person who really knows and he’s not here, and it’s because of me, and it just hurts so bad. 

My phone buzzes. Are you okay?

I half-chuckle through my tears. I'm sure one of the members informed him the second I started crying - my money's on Jimin or Jungkook. How do I answer him, though? I can't lie; it's too much effort and also, I don't want to.

No.

Do you want me to come? I can be there in 20 minutes.

I picture him sitting in his room, hunched over his phone, his long-haired silhouette looking pristine against the grey sky outside. Is he worried? He sounds worried.

I have to be out on the track in 15.

I can't make up my mind about whether his next response is what I wanted. Don't worry, I'll be there.

Regardless, I have to go out now. This breakdown was embarrassing enough but I can't do badly in this race and have it be said that it's because I can't handle pressure. The F1 community would slaughter me and I'd probably ruin it for every other girl that wants to enter the sport.

So I go out, my media face plastered on and joke it away. Ten minutes later I'm strapped into the car and being carted onto the track. When it's thirty seconds to the formation lap, I grip my steering wheel, eyes blazing, looking at nothing but Carlos Sainz's rear wing in front of me and the gap I intend to leverage when the lights go out.

You're a force of nature, baby.

I grip the steering wheel harder. You're goddamn right I am. When the formation lap ends and we take our positions on the grid, my focus is singular. My foot is on the clutch, ready to release it at the right moment, when the lights go out.

When I climb out of my car two hours later, I don’t know what to expect, mostly because it’s so unexpected. I vaguely register the hands patting my head and my shoulder, Lewis coming up behind me and hugging me, running up to Max and practically jumping into his arms as he hugs me tightly.

I’m hot and sweaty as I take off my helmet and balaclava, shaking my hair out and hearing a roaring in my ears. I’m pushed forward for my interview but all I can hear is the cheering of the crowd, the booming of voices and the sound of my own heartbeat. I force myself to focus on Jenson Button, handsome face smiling down at me like the sun.

“Dilara!” he exclaims, holding the mic. “A sensational drive to P2 today! Congratulations - how do you feel right now?”

There’s a question. I’m still panting, feeling my face stretch from smiling. “Um - hasn’t sunk in yet, to be honest,” I say finally. “I knew it was going to be difficult because of where I was starting from and Suzuka doesn’t have a lot of overtaking capability, but…” I shrug, still trying to gather my thoughts. “We got lucky with the safety car and then Max had built up a really good lead so by the time I came out of the pits, we had the McLarens behind us by a decent gap, I think. But the real victory is for our mechanics,” I add honestly, hearing a cheer go up from the stands. “My car was shattered yesterday but they did it, you know? They fixed it and it felt perfect today, so… this is for you guys.”

Walking up onto the podium is surreal. It’s not the first time; it’s my third this year, actually, but never after a drive like this. P9 to P2 is all that’s ringing in my ears. I step up onto the second place dias, my overalls unzipped and hanging around my waist, my hair long and messy down my shoulders, my chest light and full. I know I’m going to cry - I’m pretty sure I already am. All the stress and anxiety feels worth it now, though, and as I scan the crowd, I know I can do this again. 

I see the Red Bull team - my team - looking up at a 1-2 result with victory in their eyes; Christian is applauding, crow’s feet visible even from this distance, Geri at his side looking radiant; all the ex-drivers from Jenson to Nico Rosberg, DC - everyone looks like they’ve experienced the race of the season. The Minister of Sports hands me my trophy then and a loud cheer goes up. I raise the trophy in the air and look back at my people: Lexie, looking happier than ever, standing next to BTS - and now I spot the face I’ve been wanting to see all day.

Looking up at me with a smile I’ve only dreamed about, Taehyung claps with everyone else, his long hair unstyled and blowing lightly in the breeze, wearing what looks like a black bomber jacket. From all the way up here, I can see the pride in his face, the euphoria, all the love he confessed he felt last night. Whether or not I was crying before this, I’m definitely crying now, still smiling but wiping away my tears as well.

He seems so far away but it makes my heart full to know that he’s here, that this proud and happy Taehyung is the last one I see before I leave. I blow him a small kiss, trying not to make it obvious but hoping he’ll know it’s for him. We hold each other’s gaze all through the anthem until everyone picks up the champagne and, less than a minute in, I’m drenched in cold liquor. 

We pose for the podium picture, me a whole head shorter than my companions but just as capable, still looking down only at Taehyung, the love I never saw coming, and who will forever be the one that got away. When we get off the podium and I take off my drenched fireproof top, the first person to hug me is Lexie. Right behind her, I see Jimin approaching me, his famous and beautiful smile wide and breathtaking. Ignoring my protests at how gross and sticky I am, he wraps his arms around me in a tight, enveloping hug.

“This is from Taehyung,” he says softly in my ear, and I nod into his shoulder, unable to stop the tears now.

“Is he still here?” I ask shakily, clutching at Jimin’s jacket, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head. “He left. But he watched the whole thing. And he’s so proud of you.”

It’s all I can ask for, understanding better than anyone that all our goodbyes were already said last night. Jimin pulls away and kisses me on the cheek, and I know it’s a goodbye from the guys as well, to a girl their Taehyung fell in love with.

I don’t expect to see him again. I don’t know what I would say, how it would help anything, how it could possibly make saying goodbye any easier. I’m leaving the hotel lobby with my suitcase in tow, spotting my cab waiting for me outside, Lando already settled in the backseat, when I hear the receptionist calling my name.

“A gentleman left this for you,” she says, handing me a small beige envelope. 

I frown, taking it. It's small; too small for a letter. I open it and turn it upside down and my heart skips a beat. It's a ring - a very familiar ring, white gold and probably meant to be worn on an index finger. There's no note or anything else, but I don't need one. The meaning is clear as day.

If I have to guess, I'd say seeing me today was as hard for Taehyung as it was for me to see him. Ithink back to the pause after I’d asked him not to come last night, and I know his heart is just as broken as mine is. If I know him as well as I think I do, he's saying it just as much as I wanted to - that this isn't goodbye.

Later that evening, I'm at the airport when I take a selfie with Lando. His arm is around my shoulder but all I'm focused on is the black hoodie I’m wearing, the V-shaped peace sign I'm making with my hand and the long silver chain around my neck which has a ring around it, resting right over my heart. Smiling with a myriad of emotions, I upload it.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[princeescaluswords]

Hello! Just wanted to start by saying that I absolutely adore the care and responsibility that you take when answering fandom questions. It is super refreshing, rather invigorating to read (even when I don't agree with all your points), and overall a joy to have you in the fandom I've just discovered! I am curious, however, after reading one of the "cold takes" in a poll you posted, involving Malia and her immaturity on the show, in regards to her dating other teenagers. I supposed I missed something, but isn't it implied that she is much more immature than the others in her cohort? I'm also aware that the show itself is full of Bad Wrong things at every turn, but it always bothered me that she wasn't allowed to "grow up" in a sense on the show before ending up in a relationship. Regardless of whether or not you read this, take care of yourself. It's all supposed to be fun in the end. <3

Before I grapple with your question, I have to ask: what is maturity? According to the definition it means something that has fully grown. When applied to human beings, it could be referring to physical maturity, sexual maturity, intellectual maturity, or even emotional maturity. To me, that makes it a very complex descriptor, much like intelligence, and as such is not particularly suitable for blanket comparisons.

It also reminds me very strongly of the arguments over whether Scott is "stupid" or not -- an entire section of fandom employed an ad hoc judgment to essentially argue that Scott shouldn't be the lead protagonist -- because he got Ds on tests and had to go to summer school, even while managing to go toe-to-toe with villains like Peter, Derek, Gerard, and Deucalion. Fandom was able to do that by reducing a highly complex phenomenon to a ranking system, the way various social forces have cajoled humanity into doing to its detriment for centuries.

This influence feeds exclusion and, sadly, ableism, where people are prevented from working towards achieving their needs and wants because, due to an ubiquitous urge to rate everyone against everyone else while denying the uniqueness of each individual's situation, they're determined as not qualified to do so, even when that's not the case at all.

Now, to Malia.

I will start with one of the principles I use when analyzing the show. Fully shifted werecreatures possess the cognitive abilities of humans, not animals. There is plenty of textual evidence for this. Talia understood the importance of the pack meeting at the distillery and timed her entrance for maximum impact as a high-status alpha. Derek recognized the tactical situation at La Iglesia and made decisions accordingly. Malia was able to analyze the crime scene with Alex’s parents while a four-legged coyote.

The fact that she spent eight years in the forest as a werecoyote -- not a coyote, as Scott pointed out -- does mean she lacks certain skills that human beings learn through socialization and education. But it doesn't mean she stopped maturing physically or emotionally simply because she was living in a way different than most human beings. The production underlined her drawbacks in two areas -- ethics and educational exposure.

She didn't seem to me to be emotionally immature as compared to the others. The production provided us with several clues to indicate that in my opinion. For example, the doll. Yes, she kept the doll at the car wreck as a memorial to her sister. Not only do animals not do that, but the production pointed out that Stiles and his father did too with the flowers at Claudia's grave. In addition, she recognized the complexity inherent in telling her adopted father about her condition as a werecoyote and the possible harm she might cause in revealing to him that she might have killed her mother and sister, as she explained to Stiles in Echo House (3x20). Her frustration with Stiles in that episode wasn't someone who wasn't emotionally, physically or sexually immature. She demonstrated herself capable of restraint, aware of the sophistication of her own feelings, and -- while many parts of the fandom might hate the scene -- her sexual encounter with Stiles did not even come close to being animalistic.

As for her ethical deficits? I will grant you that they exist, because ethics develop over time through practical interaction with others. But is she really that ethically immature compared to Stiles "I say that if it keeps him from killing someone, we chloroform the little bastard and throw him in the lake?" Stilinski? And, in many ways, she's far ethically superior to her own biological father. She may have suggested that she would abandon Kira and Lydia, but she didn't, any more than Stiles may have been in a position to make out with a drugged-up Lydia, but he didn't!

So, while ethical weakness and the necessity to catch up to years of missed educational opportunities are parts of Malia's character, I don't see how you could say that Malia hadn't 'grown up.' She did grow up, she just didn't grow up in a way that is considered the standard. I don't find any evidence of a lack of maturity that damages others. Bluntness by itself is not an indicator of undeveloped emotional control; it's a lack of practice in social situations. Take the scene in I.E.D. (4x05) where Lydia and her are trying to get the next keyword for the dead pool. Malia's anxiety about knowing if she is on it is not immature. Her recognition of Lydia's frustration is also not immature; she sees Lydia is struggling and offers to help, without judgment, but also without polish. When Lydia blows up at her in the hallway, she immediately understands that she mishandled it. Lack of finesse is not an indicator of immaturity.

I think the idea that Malia should experience a period of "normalness" before engaging in a romantic relationship is rather narrow-minded and not a little Puritan. It is weird that parts of the fandom can be comfortable with a supposedly immature teenage girl fighting to the death against assassins, mad scientists, and extra-dimensional marauders, yet feel that dating is a pursuit she's not quite yet ready for, until she experiences life like everyone else.

[jewvian]

Five hot takes for five fandoms!

@loupsgarou tagged me in this fun challenge (lol I'm joking, thank you) and all you have to do is as advertised: list (5) unpopular opinions about (5) fandoms

Orphan Black: I loved the Castor plot and thought it added a much needed edge to the whole neolution agenda/experiments. It was sadly wasted very quickly but I still enjoyed the 3rd season a lot. Also! Ari Millen is a phenomenal character and he did so good as the Castor clones.

House of the Dragon: Alicent is actually a very good mother, like she's a great character in general but I feel like the fandom enjoys shitting on her parenting more than anything else. She lost her own mother at a young age, her father is a manipulative dickhead that forced her into a horrible (yet influential, yes) marriage when she was like 15, her only friend hated and resented her for years because of that, and her entire adult life was a play of pretend and convincing herself she is doing this for a greater good. She did her best at raising her kids in those circumstances, kids she bore without a sense of love but only duty. They are still her children, though, and she really does love them and it's just hard to be a functioning human in the environment she lives in - mentally and physically - and yet she tries her best to be a loving parent to them all. Alicent just needs more love y'all.

Doctor Who: I really was excited to hear Russell T. Davies is coming back, but I am way less excited to see his plans for Ten and Donna and whatever nonsense they are brewing in Cardiff. It started as hope for like, going back to the roots vibe and having some silly plots and not always thinking about bigger, darker arcs - just you know, the original rtd run. But the more I hear and read about their plans the less excited I am. It feels to me like they are using that sense of nostalgia to lure the fans back in after the Chris Chibnall fiasco, like they are focusing more on the clout and ratings than the actual heart of the show. I should be clear though, it's just the vibe I'm getting and I hope I'm wrong! I'm just very weary and cautions at this point.

Taskmaster: y'all need to stop shipping Greg and Alex, it's just gross. I don't mind you enjoying their dynamic, like I really love their banters and everything, but actively shipping real people is a red line for me. Also the fact they are actively teasing the fans with it on the actual show, like knowingly, is starting to bother me.

Eurovision: jury votes are necessary to contain the chaos of the public vote. I know I disagree with them a lot, but they do balance out the ridiculousness of some questionable fan choices. The real problem with the jury is whoever the countries pick to be in them, you know what I mean? Like what is the picking process? Who qualifies to sit in them? Who conducts the voting? These are the questions we need to ask, because the juries are an important part of the competition and I would really hate to see them go because of some deep corruption that should be the actual thing to get rid of.

Oof that was hard to get off my chest lol I know some of y'all will be mad at a very specific take (👀) but please remember I love said show! I am just hurt by many many mistakes in the past lol

Tagging time! @pinkieroy @clarabosswald @angelic37 @eshcolit-sgula (lol you popped up on my feed as I made it) and @swallowedabug! No pressure to answer tho! Also if y'all see this and wanna take part yourself - go ahead! It's sort of therapeutic in the end lol

[liamhaydn-blog]

Team of the Decade: Part 5- The 1990's

Goalkeeper- Peter Schmeichel- Denmark

Peter Schmeichel joined Manchester United from Brondby for a fee of half a million pounds in 1991, a price later described by Sir Alex Ferguson as the "bargain of the century." The summer after his first season in England, Schmeichel unexpectedly would play in the Euros for Denmark. Unexpected because Denmark had failed to qualify for the tournament, finishing behind Yugoslavia, but they would take their place due to Yugoslavia being banned due to the breakup of the country and warfare taking place there.

Even more unexpected was Denmark going on to lift the trophy, beating the might of France, Netherlands & then Germany in the final to achieve glory, with Schmeichel instrumental in denying forwards of the quality of Cantona, Pappin, Bergkamp, Van Basten & Klinsmann.

With Manchester United, Schmeichel was a pivotal player in helping the club win their first league title in 26 years, and then going on to dominate English football with the Great Dane winning 5 Premier League titles & 3 FA Cups, aswell as sealing a historic treble in what was his final game for the club, as United scored twice in stoppage time to win the Champions League against Bayern Munich.

Schmeichel is considered one of the greatest goalkeepers of all time known for his physically imposing presence between the sticks who made the goal extremely small when attackers ran through 1 against 1. He also possessed great shot-stopping ability due to his exceptional reflexes and was known to be able to launch quick counter-attacks due to his accurate long-throwing and kicking abilities.

Right-Back- Lilian Thuram- France

Thuram began his career with AS Monaco before transferring to Parma where he won the Coppa Italia & the UEFA Cup. This convinced Juventus to part with over 40 million euros in 2001 to bring him to Turin. In 5 seasons with the club, Thuram would win 2 Serie A titles (a further 2 were evoked due to the Calciopoli scandal) and reach the 2003 Champions League final which Juve lost on penalties to AC Milan. Thuram then finished his career with Barcelona.

Thuram was a key player in France's 1998 World Cup triumph on home soil, scoring a brace in their 2-1 semi-final win over Croatia, with those two goals being the only goals he ever scored for his country in 142 caps. Thuram was awarded the Bronze Ball as the 3rd best player of the tournament, which France sealed with a 3-0 final win over Brazil. Thuram would also win the Euros and the Confederations Cup with his nation in 2000 and 2003, and would aswell reach the 2006 World Cup final which France lost on penalties to Italy.

Thuram was rated as one of the world's best defenders in his prime. He was extremely difficult to get past either on the ground or in the air, due to his immense physical, technical and tactical attributes. He was aggressive and tenacious in his marking of opponents whilst still maintaining an elegance and the intelligence to read the game well. He could play either as a centre-back or a full-back, and when at full-back he was just as adept when going forward, known for winning the ball back high up the pitch then bombing forward to offer an outlet for the team.

Centre-Back- Fernando Hierro- Spain

Hierro made his La Liga debut with Real Valladolid where he spent 2 seasons before being snapped up by Real Madrid, where he would spend the next 14 years of his career. With Madrid Hierro won a considerable amount of trophies including 5 La Liga titles and 3 Champions Leagues. Hierro was club captain for that final Champions League triumph in 2002 against Bayer Leverkusen. Hierro went on to play in Qatar before retiring at Sam Allardyce's Bolton Wanderers.

Hierro won 89 caps for Spain and scored 29 goals, which remarkably made him his countries all-time leading goalscorer at the time of his retirement, and he still now remains the 6th highest scorer. Hierro was moved into midfield in his early years at Real Madrid, due to his incredible knack for goalscoring for a defensive player and in 91/92 scored a remarkable 26 goals for Real Madrid, with only 1 coming from the penalty spot. His 21 in La Liga alone made him the second top goalscorer in the competition that year. Hierro scored over 100 La Liga goals for Madrid and 127 across all competitions.

As well as an exceptional eye for goal and great passing range which made him adept when going forward, Hierro's physically intimidating defensive presence along with his intelligence when positioning himself and timing challenges made him one of the most complete defenders the game has seen.

Centre-Back- Marcel Desailly- France

Desailly began his career at Nantes before moving to Marseille where he won the first edition of the Champions League in 1993. He would win the Champions League the following season aswell after joining AC Milan, a club where he spent 5 years and won 2 Serie A titles. Desailly then became a fans favourite at Chelsea, where he won the FA Cup in 2000.

Desailly was part of the French team which dominated international football between 1998 and 2003, winning the World Cup, the Euros and the Confederations Cup twice in 2001 and again in 2003. Desaily captained France to their two Confederations Cup successes.

Desailly had success as a midfielder for AC Milan, due to the wealth of talent they had in defence and he excelled for them as a defensive midfielder which highlighted his tough tackling and ball-playing capabilities. Playing as either a centre-back or sweeper for France, he earned the nickname "The Rock" for his solid displays due to his physical qualities and football intelligence which allowed him to lead and organise the defence.

Left-Back- Paulo Maldini- Italy

Paulo Maldini spent every year of his 25-year career with AC Milan racking up 902 appearances for the club and winning 7 Serie A titles and 5 European Cups, amongst a whole host of other honours. Maldini won 126 caps for Italy, though was never able to win a major trophy, as he was a beaten finalist in both the 1994 World Cup and 2000 Euros.

Maldini spent his prime years at left-back where his ability to play with both feet, his technical ability and athleticism established him as the best full-back in the world. In later years as his pace declined he transitioned into one of the best centre-backs in the world, due to his commanding presence and exceptional reading of the game.

The Italian is considered one of the greatest defenders in the history of football, with an elegant style on the ball which meant he could pass for a classy midfielder, the physical stamina to be a tireless worker up and down the left flank as a full-back and a centre-back who timed tackles to perfection, but only when he had to, preferring to rely on his man-marking and positioning to make a tackle unnecessary. His consistency allowed him to make over 1,000 appearances at the very highest level, with the Brazilian Ronaldo calling him "the best defender I faced over the course of my career."

Right-Wing- Luis Figo- Portugal

Figo began his career with Sporting Lisbon, with the talented winger looking set to join Serie A for either Parma or Juventus. However after a weird saga saw him sign a contract with both clubs, he was given a 2-year ban from signing with an Italian club and so instead moved to Barcelona. In 5 seasons with Barca, Figo established himself as the club's talisman and the fan's favourite as he won 2 La Liga titles, 2 Copa Del Rey's and the Cup Winners Cup.

In 2000, Figo shocked the world by joining the club's arch-rivals Real Madrid in the most controversial transfer in Football history. Under intense scrutiny, Figo continued to perform to a high standard on the pitch and helped Los Blancos to win 2 league titles and the Champions League during the 'Galacticos' era that his arrival had kickstarted. Figo would retire at Inter Milan, adding 4 more league titles to his bulging trophy cabinet.

Figo won 127 Portugal caps, coming closest to winning a trophy for his country at the 2004 Euros where he lost on home soil to rank outsiders Greece. For a strong and stocky player, Figo was exceptionally quick and an excellent one v one dribbler with great balance and trickery. He produced a high number of assists just to excellent crossing ability. Figo also contributed a fair number of goals due to good ballstriking capability, including from dead-ball situations. Figo was the 2000 recipient of the Balon D'or.

Centre-Midfield- Fernando Redondo- Argentina

Redondo moved to Europe from Argentinos Juniors to join La Liga minnows Tenerife. In his 4 years with the club, Redondo was part of the Tenerife side which on two occasions denied Real Madrid the La Liga title on the last day of the season, with Cruyff's Barcelona the benefactor. In 1994, Redondo would move to Real Madrid and in his 6 years with the club he would win 2 La Liga's and 2 Champions League titles. His performances in the 99/00 Champions League saw him voted the UEFA club footballer of the year, with one performance at Old Trafford against United in the quarter-finals leading Sir Alex Ferguson to ask "What does this player have in his boots? A magnet?"

In 2013 Redondo was named in Marca's best ever foreign XI in Real Madrid's history as he earned the nickname "El Principe" ('the Prince') for his performances in the white of Real Madrid. Redondo would retire at AC Milan, where a serious injury limited his playing time. Redondo had a complicated International career, he turned down going to the 1990 World Cup feeling he would only be a squad player, but was a regular starter between 1992 and 1994 and in that time helped Argentina to win the Copa America and the Confederations Cup, where he won the award for best player of the tournament. Redondo played in the 1994 World Cup but then fell out with manager Passarella due to him banning long hair. Redondo refused to get a haircut, rightly insisting it had nothing to do with football and missed out on the 98 World Cup because of it.

Redondo was a deep-lying playmaker known for his outstanding close control when carrying the ball forward and his ability to control tempo with his creative passing and vision. He would also contribute from a defensive standpoint due to his effective aggression offering protection in front of the backline.

Centre-Midfield- Michael Laudrup- Denmark

Laudrup joined Juventus from Brondby, but due to the two foreign player limit he was immediately loaned to Lazio where he spent two seasons. Laudrup then got his chance at Juve, winning the Serie A in his first season but ultimately been unable to replace Platini's talismanic impact. The Dane decided it was time to leave and joined Cruyff's Barcelona in 1989 and immediately fared much better, winning 4 La Liga's and the 1992 European Cup in 5 seasons with the Blaugrana. Laudrup twice won player of the year in Spain, but when he was left out of the squad for 1994 Champions League final which Barcelona lost 4-0 to AC Milan, he decided it was time to move on.

Reported to have fallen out with Cruyff, Laudrup joined Real Madrid but stated it was a move purely to help a struggling team win again, not out of any petty revenge. Laudrup helped Los Blancos to held Barcelona's stranglehold over La Liga, as they became Champions once more, beating Barcelona 5-0 on the way. Laudrup became the first player to win 5 straight La Liga titles with two different clubs.

Laudrup remains admired and respected by both sets of fans due to his contributions for both clubs with Cruyff remarking: "When Michael plays like a dream, a magic illusion, determined to show his new team his extreme abilities, no one in the world comes anywhere near his level."

Laudrup is considered one of the greatest creators in football history. His vision, unselfish playing style and ability to play long through balls made him a favourite of any striker he played behind. A gifted playmaker, Laudrup could also operate as either a central midfielder, deep-lying playmaker or as a second striker and from anywhere he would create a whole host of chances for his teammates. Laudrup was also an excellent one v one dribbler, with exceptional skills and creative trickery to help him evade defenders, such as the "croqueta" which whilst he was playing was also known as "the Laudrup dribble", this move involved rapidly moving the ball from one foot to the other and has been kept alive by Iniesta, who also mastered the move.

Left-Wing- Hristo Stoichkov- Bulgaria

Stoichkov came to prominence with CSKA Sofia before joining Barcelona in 1990 and achieving success as part of Cruyff's 'Dream Team' as he scored 108 goals in 214 games and won multiple league titles and the 1992 European Cup. Stoichkov left Barcelona for Parma in 1995 but returned a year later for another more short-lived stint. He then had spells back in his native Bulgaria, Saudi Arabia and Japan before retiring in USA.

Stoichkov starred at the 1994 World Cup helping Bulgaria reach the semi-finals with 6 goals which won him the Golden Boot. His performances at this tournament helped him to win the Balon D'or later that year.

The Bulgarian was known for his explosive pace which he combined with great dribbling ability and a fearsome shot which made him at times an unstoppable forward. Stoichkov could play all positions across the front line well, with good crossing and passing ability which also helped him to rack up a decent amount of assists.

Number 10 Position- Roberto Baggio- Italy

Two days after joining Fiorentina from Vicenza, an 18-year old Baggio suffered an injury so severe some doctors feared he would never play again. Fiorentina remained committed to bringing Baggio to the club despite the setback, and Baggio repaid their faith, coming through another serious injury which required 220 stiches not long after he'd returned back from his first serious knee injury. However on that second return he scored an equalising free-kick goal which saved Fiorentina from relegation.

Baggio would establish himself as a hero of the La Viola faithful, and they were left devastated when "Il Divin Codino" ('The Divine Ponytail') joined the club's arch-rivals Juventus for a world record fee of £8M. The transfer led to riots in Florence which injured 50 people. Baggio scored atleast 20 goals in all 4 of his first seasons with Juventus, establishing himself as the teams standout star, who more than justified his fee as helped the club to win the UEFA Cup in 1993. He had to wait until his last season with the club to lift the Serie A title, and it was bittersweet as he began to fall down the pecking order at the club, but he still managed 16 goal involvements in 17 Serie A games. In total Baggio scored 115 goals in 200 games for Juventus.

Baggio won another league title with AC Milan before moving to Bologna where he recaptured his best form, scoring a career best 22 goals in Serie A before moving to Inter Milan where he spent a couple of years before retiring at Brescia. Baggio represented Italy at 2 World Cups, finishing 3rd in 1990 and losing the final in 1994, with Baggio missing the decisive spotkick against Brazil, clearing the crossbar with the most infamous penalty miss ever.

Baggio was described as a "9 and a half" by Platini, due to him creating more chances than a typical number 9, but also scoring more regularly than a traditional number 10. Baggio was a composed finisher, known for his precise, composed shooting rather than for powerful shots. He has the 2nd most assists in Serie A history with 123, behind only Francesco Totti and is remembered for his incredible technical quality which led his former manager at Brescia Carlo Mazzone to declare: "Without the injury problems and the difficulties with his knees, he would have been the very best player in history." Baggio was the 1993 recipient of the Balon D'or.

Striker- Ronaldo- Brazil

With 44 goals in 47 games for Cruzeiro, Ronaldo was snapped up by PSV Eindhoven, and he seamlessly made the jump to European football, scoring 54 goals in 57 games for the club. A still teenage Ronaldo was then brought to Barcelona for a world record fee of $19.5M. In his one season with Barca, R9 scored 47 goals in 49 games helping them to lift the Copa Del Rey and the Cup Winners Cup. Ronaldo was then on the move again for another world record fee, now joining Inter Milan for $27M. Again Ronaldo settled instantly, netting 34 goals in his first season in Italy and winning another UEFA Cup.

Knee injuries then began to plague the Brazilian and immediately after returning from a ruptured tendon that required surgery, Ronaldo's "kneecap exploded" in what was called the worst injury physiotherapist Nilton Petrone had ever seen. Ronaldo would play just 24 club games across the next 3 seasons, and though he would never be quite the same electrifying player again, never again quite as explosively fast returing with a more top-heavy physique, his quality and his finishing ability ensured he returned to be one of the best strikers still on the planet, scoring 104 goals in 177 games for Real Madrid, before retiring after spells with AC Milan and Corinthians.

Ronaldo was part of the Brazil squad which won the 1994 World Cup, though he did not feature at the tournament. He won his first tournament with Brazil at the 1997 Copa America where he was voted best player, and Brazil retained the trophy two years later with Ronaldo winning the Golden Boot and scoring in both finals. In between this tournaments was the 1998 World Cup, where Ronaldo scored 4 and assisted 3 to lead his nation into the final against hosts France. However in the hours before the final, Ronaldo had a fit, likely induced by the stress and pressure he was under to perform. Ronaldo was a shadow of himself in the final as Brazil lost 3-0.

4 years later, Ronaldo returned to the World Cup stage after a turbulent few years in which he had battled career threatening injuries. Injury had forced him to miss the entirety of the qualifying campaign, but at the main event Ronaldo scored in 6 of the 7 matches, including 2 in the final to bring his total to 8. His brace in the final against Germany helped Brazil to lift their 5th World Cup. Ronaldo played his final World Cup 4 years later in 2006, where he became the all-time top scorer in World Cup history with 15 goals in 19 games.

Ronaldo is considered one of the greatest strikers and footballers in history. He is a two-time recipient of the Balon D'or and won the World Footballer of the Year award on 3 occasions. Considered one of the deadliest finishers ever and a goalkeepers worst nightmare 1 v 1, prime Ronaldo, before his knee injuries had one of the most highest peaks ever and if not for those injuries likely would have been amongst the top handful of greatest players ever, though plenty do still have him in that conversation due to his devastating blend of skill, strength, speed and finishing.

Subs:

Dennis Bergkamp- Netherlands

Bergkamp began his career at Ajax under the tutelage of Cruyff, where he would score 122 goals and win a number of trophies including the 1992 UEFA Cup. The Dutchman earned a dream move to Serie A the following year to play for Inter Milan and scored 8 goals in 11 UEFA Cup games in his debut season to help them to lift the trophy. However Bergkamp struggled in Serie A and fell out of favour with the club and its supporters so after a disappointing second season moved to Arsenal for £7.5M, which smashed the club's highest transfer fee 3 times over.

Bergkamp found a home in North London and in 97-98, helped the club to achieve the league and FA Cup double. He started that season on fire, and in August the top 3 voted goals for Match of the Day's goal of the month competition, were all scored by Bergkamp, including 2 from an unforgettable hattrick away at Leicester. 4 years later Bergkamp would win a second domestic double with the club, with a goal away at Newcastle considered by most sensible people as the greatest goal in the history of the Premier League. In 2004, Bergkamp was then part of the Arsenal team which went a full Premier League campaign without losing as part of a historic 49-game unbeaten run.

Bergkamp's defining moment in the 'Oranje' shirt came in the 1998 World Cup, where he produced one of the greatest World Cup goals ever to secure Netherlands path through against Argentina to reach the semi-finals. Bergkamp scored 37 goals in 79 caps for his country.

Bergkamp is considered one of the greatest 10's in football history, a dream to play alongside for strikers such as Ian Wright & Thierry Henry, who knew he would always try and succeed in setting them up with chances, due to his unselfish nature and the quality of his vision and passing technique. Bergkamp had one of the best first-touches in Football history and he oozed class in every aspect of his game, one of his trademarks was his chipped shot which he regularly executed to perfection to catch out unsuspecting goalkeepers.

Rivaldo- Brazil

Rivaldo joined Deportivo La Coruna from Palmeiras and after an impressive first season in La Liga, he was snapped up by Barcelona for around $26M. Rivaldo's peak years came in his 5-year stint with the club where he established himself as one of the best players in the world, with his goals and performances helping the club to win 2 La Liga titles and the Copa Del Rey.

2000/01 was a more difficult season for Barca with the club fighting for Champions League qualification. It would come down to a straight shootout against Valencia for the final spot. With Barca needing to win, Rivaldo scored arguably the finest hat-trick in Football history. The match was tied at 2-2 when in the 89th minute, Rivaldo chested down a lofted pass on the edge of the box with his back to goal, before in the blink of an eye acrobatically executing a perfect overhead kick into the bottom corner. In total Rivaldo scored 130 goals in 235 for Barca, and though he would go on to have spells with AC Milan and Olympiakos amongst others, it's with the Catalan side he will always be most associated.

Rivaldo had an outstanding international career, winning the Confederations Cup and the Copa America as the tournament's best player, sharing the top scorer award with Ronaldo. Rivaldo was part of "the three R's" along with Ronaldo and Ronaldinho who fired Brazil to World Cup glory in 2002, with Rivaldo scoring in the first 5 games. Though Ronaldo took most of the headlines, Brazil manager Scolari named Rivaldo as the best player of the tournament.

Few players have combined physical and technical qualities to the level of Rivaldo. At his peak he was bordering unstoppable due to his strength, dribbling ability, creativity and powerful finishing. He could operate as a winger, second striker or as a classic number 10 and his performances in 1999 earned him both the Balon D'or and the World Footballer of the Year awards.

Romario- Brazil

Romario's first 5 years in Europe came with PSV Eindhoven, the club he'd joined from Vasco da Gama. After scoring 128 goals in 149 games for the Dutch side and winning a host of domestic honours, Romario moved to FC Barcelona. He scored 32 goals in his first season with the club, helping them to win La Liga and reach the Champions League final where they were beaten by AC Milan.

Half-way through his second season Romario left the club after falling out with manager Cruyff and returned to Brazil where he would spend the majority of the remainder of his career scoring prolifically for Flamengo & Vasco. Romario only featured at one World Cup, but he left a huge impact, winning the award for player of the tournament as his 5 goals helped Brazil to win their first World Cup in 24 years. Romario also won the Confederations Cup and 2 Copa America's with the Selecao and scored 55 in 70 internationals.

Romario was a penalty box killer, a deadly finisher inside the 18-yard box due to his ruthless eye for goal. But he was alot more than just a goal-poacher, due to his ability to drop deep or drift outside giving headaches to the defenders tasked with marking him. Football came easily to Romario, maybe a little bit too easy, as if he'd dedicated more time to training and less to partying his European peak would have lasted longer.

[stateofsport211]

Burnie 1 Ch SF: Alex Bolt def. Yasutaka Uchiyama [6] 6-7(7), 7-6(4), 6-3 Match Stats

📸 ATP official website

This match turned out to be return-heavy since it boiled down to the tie-breakers. The net game contributed a lot in their pressing moments there, where Y. Uchiyama's volley converted his latest set point in the first set, and so did A. Bolt's mini-break in the second set before his forehands created the damage in the second set. This way, A. Bolt appeared more aggressive and intuitive, outhitting Y. Uchiyama's baseline game as a consequence, which contributed to his 7 break points, converting it twice between the first and the third sets despite Y. Uchiyama's 33% break point conversion rate.

Service game-wise, Y. Uchiyama surprisingly had the edge but could not sustain the moment toward the end of the match. Despite A. Bolt firing 4 more aces than Y. Uchiyama (10 to 6), the latter slightly stood out in his first serves by 1% with 76% winning percentage. Furthermore, A. Bolt's second serves became problematic since he could only win 56% points from there, 9% lesser due to his 4 double faults, twice more than Y. Uchiyama along the way.

An all-Australian final will be present as Omar Jasika defeated qualifier Shintaro Imai 7-5, 6-3 later that day in the semifinals. Considering both players' resurgence, this could be a classic match with every element being tested: being more offensive could be one of the keys while constructing their points. Should be an exciting encounter because whoever nailed this match will get a possible boost in their comeback campaigns.