#you have the telemetry

[mistressemmedi]

They're investigating Perez after the race?

@ FIA say that you want to see how the race ends before you can "fix" things and go

[moonshynecybin]

we talk a lot about vale making up conspiracy theories in 2015 (he was not delulu idc! but anyways, not the point) but the real conspiracy theory was the one stoner (mainly him) and vale made in 2006 about their tyres being fucked up on purpose. two icons truly.

record scratch freeze frame. vale was ABSOLUTELYYYYYY being delusional in 2015 he was like jorge and marc have unionized against me along with race direction because i am italian. that’s crazy. but! i digress all of these guys especially the aliens are pretty crazy and casey stoner is by no means an exception

from his autobiography “pushing the limits.” what an odd thing to say.

[leafcabbage]

fun new internet quiz just dropped: heart monitoring edition

[shitty-check-please-aus]

I’ve read through two different series so far this year and I have to say I’m upset and annoyed that now I have to wait for the next book to come out

[imhumanguysiswear]

Not me going out to fly the drone I just built, crash it after ten seconds, pass 30 minutes walking around like an idiot on the field after I lost all signals (battery unplugged) and only then remember that the transmitter recorded the telemetry, with the last recorded gps coordinates.

It was five feets from where I was flying it. I had it in front of me I am a dumbass

The little shit is fine btw just a bit of dirt and a defective video antenna

[catastrophic-crow]

i was reading a BNHA fic that poked fun at how ochako's quirk isn't really "zero-gravity," and i had an idea for a crossover that either has already been done or desperately needs to be:

MHA Student File:

Name: Uraraka Ochako

Class: 1-A

Quirk: Mass Effect

What if Uraraka's quirk wasn't... quite... like in canon?

[planet4546b]

also: there were lots of parts of network effect where i could see the scaffolding so to speak, where i could understand why one thing or another was happening from a writing standpoint and not just an in universe one, which is a really good feeling!!! not sure if this is a product of well’s writing style or my own way of reading texts changing, but it was satisfying regardless

[slow-button-off]

Some Q3 telemetry

Again SAI is gray.

I feel like something is off with the data because it's been behaving weird but anyway.

LEC vs SAI: As you can see LEC gains mostly in the last sector. The dips in the time delta for the bigger corners are there because LEC brakes much later. You can also see that when you look at the brake trace.

VER vs LEC: that's more interesting because for like all laps but that last one VER was always much faster in the first sector and LEC made up the time in the last two. But this lap it's the opposite. They are pretty on par through sector 1&2 and then VER gains in the last one.

Add ons for LEC he had an oversteer moment.

Add ons for both LEC & SAI their tyres weren't completely fresh. They didn't do any push laps but they were out on track while Russell crashed and LEC did complain about the tyres later. Doesn't have to mean much but it is interesting.

[uhf-comm-pass]

What are your opinions on biomagical worldbuilding?

I have been waiting for over a year for someone to ask me this!

My opinion on biomagical worldbuilding is that it's cool as shit and I want it to show up in more fiction.

Let me explain in more detail than necessary, under the cut.

Biological worldbuilding is where you design some sort of novel biology for a world you've created. I don't personally consider something quite as simple as creating a new creature to count as very much biological worldbuilding on its own; it really means something like:

Explaining how one or more imagined biological creatures in your world evolved or were created. (Such as a world where dragons exist.)

Explaining how a creature that exists in our own world evolved differently in your world than they did in our world. (Such as a world where humans actually evolved from proto-dolphins.)

Synthesizing existing anatomies and physiologies in new combinations or forms. (Like figuring out what it would be like if a species similar to humans grew horns.)

Designing new anatomical and physiological concepts wholesale. (Like coming up with new and disturbing reproductive strategies for your fictional creatures, or designing new internal organs.)

Or adjusting or inventing new approaches to molecular biology and biochemistry. (Like substituting in an alternative for DNA, inventing new genes or proteins, or introducing your own viruses or bacteria.)

I find biological worldbuilding most interesting when someone takes into account the logical implications of the ways that biology works differently in their world, and thinking through their impacts on the other aspects of their world, along with their characters, their characters' experiences, and their story.

Now, magical worldbuilding is where we do something similar, but for our magic systems. This doesn't necessarily mean that you need a "hard" magic system, or that it needs to follow precise and logical rules; rather, it's that a magic system has some sort of coherent logic. This means that there are particular ways that the magic functions, and they interact with the other parts of the world and setting.

Some examples:

Magic systems where healing magic has consequences/side effects, because there's a specific mechanism of action (a "way that it works," even if not known to the reader), and it might not do exactly what you want if it's not aligned perfectly with the mechanism. (Addictive healing potions, injuries that heal in an unnatural/inhuman way, healing that leaves you with permanent evidence that something happened, et cetera.)

Magic systems where there are specific reasons that the specific set of spells (or other forms of magical capabilities) exist. Spells that were developed by researchers, or granted by some sort of magical being, or that are fundamental to the universe in some way. In other words, while you might not know why the magic works a specific way, there is a story about it.

Magic systems that interact with the political and economic systems of the worlds that they are in. Maybe magic is a form of wealth that's limited in quantity; maybe magical training is restricted, and it's a matter of political conflict who gets to learn what; maybe magic is a critical aspect of warfare and espionage, and the side of a conflict with better magical capabilities has an advantage; maybe magic is used by day-to-day infrastructure, like magical trains or weather manipulation to overcome droughts.

Magic systems that interact in complex ways with characters' lives and identities. Characters who are formed from magic; characters who were changed permanently by magic; characters whose stories are about overcoming limitations believed to exist in magic; characters who gain or lose their magic involuntarily, and it affects how they can or cannot live their everyday lives.

There are plenty more things you could add to that list, of course.

Biomagical worldbuilding, then, is the combination of these two ideas. It's the exploration of how biology influences magic, and magic influences biology.

Consider:

What if magic users can only use magic because of specific biological capabilities, like substances in their blood, or special internal organs?

What if a species is inherently magical? What happens if they get separated from that magic? What happens if they get exposed to too much of it? Do they have the ability to "opt out of" or "turn off" their magical abilities, or do the abilities always apply, even if they don't want them to?

How does the ability to use magic evolve in a species? What happens on an evolutionary scale if magic, or access to magic, changes over time? Does magic evolve many times, or are all magical creatures descendant from the same common ancestor? Did magical creatures evolve from non-magical creatures, or did non-magical creatures evolve from magical creatures?

If magic, or the ability to use it, can evolve, then can it also be added to creatures by genetic engineering, or through medical technologies? Even if it's genetic, could it be added to an existing adult by introducing genes with CRISPR and viral vectors?

If a species is magical, is the molecular biology of their cells affected by their magic? Do they have genetic logic affected by the presence or absence or type of magic? Do they have enzymes that rely on magic to function correctly? Are there organelles that support magical capabilities? What kind of waste products does magic give off?

If magic is intertwined with biology, what does that mean for non-magical creatures who are capable of using magic? Does that change them on a cellular level, or is it something they can always set aside, as if they'd never touched it? Does it matter how long they use magic, or how much of it they use?

How does magic affect the lifecycle of species that are composed of it or exposed to it? Does a lack of magic stunt growth? Is magic required for or antagonistic to reproductive processes? Is magic capability inherited? If so, is that genetic, or epigenetic, or through some other mechanism? What happens to creatures who are affected by or reliant on magic if the nature of the magic changes?

These are the kinds of questions that keep me up at night.

[krawdad]

I think if I just got my hands on a few potentiometers and some kind of aduino thing I probably could build my own waldo to puppeteer shit in blender

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Your car spies on you and rats you out to insurance companies

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (Mar 13) in SAN FRANCISCO with ROBIN SLOAN, then Toronto, NYC, Anaheim, and more!

Another characteristically brilliant Kashmir Hill story for The New York Times reveals another characteristically terrible fact about modern life: your car secretly records fine-grained telemetry about your driving and sells it to data-brokers, who sell it to insurers, who use it as a pretext to gouge you on premiums:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/11/technology/carmakers-driver-tracking-insurance.html

Almost every car manufacturer does this: Hyundai, Nissan, Ford, Chrysler, etc etc:

https://www.repairerdrivennews.com/2020/09/09/ford-state-farm-ford-metromile-honda-verisk-among-insurer-oem-telematics-connections/

This is true whether you own or lease the car, and it's separate from the "black box" your insurer might have offered to you in exchange for a discount on your premiums. In other words, even if you say no to the insurer's carrot – a surveillance-based discount – they've got a stick in reserve: buying your nonconsensually harvested data on the open market.

I've always hated that saying, "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product," the reason being that it posits decent treatment as a customer reward program, like the little ramekin warm nuts first class passengers get before takeoff. Companies don't treat you well when you pay them. Companies treat you well when they fear the consequences of treating you badly.

Take Apple. The company offers Ios users a one-tap opt-out from commercial surveillance, and more than 96% of users opted out. Presumably, the other 4% were either confused or on Facebook's payroll. Apple – and its army of cultists – insist that this proves that our world's woes can be traced to cheapskate "consumers" who expected to get something for nothing by using advertising-supported products.

But here's the kicker: right after Apple blocked all its rivals from spying on its customers, it began secretly spying on those customers! Apple has a rival surveillance ad network, and even if you opt out of commercial surveillance on your Iphone, Apple still secretly spies on you and uses the data to target you for ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Even if you're paying for the product, you're still the product – provided the company can get away with treating you as the product. Apple can absolutely get away with treating you as the product, because it lacks the historical constraints that prevented Apple – and other companies – from treating you as the product.

As I described in my McLuhan lecture on enshittification, tech firms can be constrained by four forces:

I. Competition

II. Regulation

III. Self-help

IV. Labor

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

When companies have real competitors – when a sector is composed of dozens or hundreds of roughly evenly matched firms – they have to worry that a maltreated customer might move to a rival. 40 years of antitrust neglect means that corporations were able to buy their way to dominance with predatory mergers and pricing, producing today's inbred, Habsburg capitalism. Apple and Google are a mobile duopoly, Google is a search monopoly, etc. It's not just tech! Every sector looks like this:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

Eliminating competition doesn't just deprive customers of alternatives, it also empowers corporations. Liberated from "wasteful competition," companies in concentrated industries can extract massive profits. Think of how both Apple and Google have "competitively" arrived at the same 30% app tax on app sales and transactions, a rate that's more than 1,000% higher than the transaction fees extracted by the (bloated, price-gouging) credit-card sector:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/07/curatorial-vig/#app-tax

But cartels' power goes beyond the size of their warchest. The real source of a cartel's power is the ease with which a small number of companies can arrive at – and stick to – a common lobbying position. That's where "regulatory capture" comes in: the mobile duopoly has an easier time of capturing its regulators because two companies have an easy time agreeing on how to spend their app-tax billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Apple – and Google, and Facebook, and your car company – can violate your privacy because they aren't constrained regulation, just as Uber can violate its drivers' labor rights and Amazon can violate your consumer rights. The tech cartels have captured their regulators and convinced them that the law doesn't apply if it's being broken via an app:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/18/cursed-are-the-sausagemakers/#how-the-parties-get-to-yes

In other words, Apple can spy on you because it's allowed to spy on you. America's last consumer privacy law was passed in 1988, and it bans video-store clerks from leaking your VHS rental history. Congress has taken no action on consumer privacy since the Reagan years:

https://www.eff.org/tags/video-privacy-protection-act

But tech has some special enshittification-resistant characteristics. The most important of these is interoperability: the fact that computers are universal digital machines that can run any program. HP can design a printer that rejects third-party ink and charge $10,000/gallon for its own colored water, but someone else can write a program that lets you jailbreak your printer so that it accepts any ink cartridge:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Tech companies that contemplated enshittifying their products always had to watch over their shoulders for a rival that might offer a disenshittification tool and use that as a wedge between the company and its customers. If you make your website's ads 20% more obnoxious in anticipation of a 2% increase in gross margins, you have to consider the possibility that 40% of your users will google "how do I block ads?" Because the revenue from a user who blocks ads doesn't stay at 100% of the current levels – it drops to zero, forever (no user ever googles "how do I stop blocking ads?").

The majority of web users are running an ad-blocker:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

Web operators made them an offer ("free website in exchange for unlimited surveillance and unfettered intrusions") and they made a counteroffer ("how about 'nah'?"):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

Here's the thing: reverse-engineering an app – or any other IP-encumbered technology – is a legal minefield. Just decompiling an app exposes you to felony prosecution: a five year sentence and a $500k fine for violating Section 1201 of the DMCA. But it's not just the DMCA – modern products are surrounded with high-tech tripwires that allow companies to invoke IP law to prevent competitors from augmenting, recongifuring or adapting their products. When a business says it has "IP," it means that it has arranged its legal affairs to allow it to invoke the power of the state to control its customers, critics and competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

An "app" is just a web-page skinned in enough IP to make it a crime to add an ad-blocker to it. This is what Jay Freeman calls "felony contempt of business model" and it's everywhere. When companies don't have to worry about users deploying self-help measures to disenshittify their products, they are freed from the constraint that prevents them indulging the impulse to shift value from their customers to themselves.

Apple owes its existence to interoperability – its ability to clone Microsoft Office's file formats for Pages, Numbers and Keynote, which saved the company in the early 2000s – and ever since, it has devoted its existence to making sure no one ever does to Apple what Apple did to Microsoft:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

Regulatory capture cuts both ways: it's not just about powerful corporations being free to flout the law, it's also about their ability to enlist the law to punish competitors that might constrain their plans for exploiting their workers, customers, suppliers or other stakeholders.

The final historical constraint on tech companies was their own workers. Tech has very low union-density, but that's in part because individual tech workers enjoyed so much bargaining power due to their scarcity. This is why their bosses pampered them with whimsical campuses filled with gourmet cafeterias, fancy gyms and free massages: it allowed tech companies to convince tech workers to work like government mules by flattering them that they were partners on a mission to bring the world to its digital future:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

For tech bosses, this gambit worked well, but failed badly. On the one hand, they were able to get otherwise powerful workers to consent to being "extremely hardcore" by invoking Fobazi Ettarh's spirit of "vocational awe":

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

On the other hand, when you motivate your workers by appealing to their sense of mission, the downside is that they feel a sense of mission. That means that when you demand that a tech worker enshittifies something they missed their mother's funeral to deliver, they will experience a profound sense of moral injury and refuse, and that worker's bargaining power means that they can make it stick.

Or at least, it did. In this era of mass tech layoffs, when Google can fire 12,000 workers after a $80b stock buyback that would have paid their wages for the next 27 years, tech workers are learning that the answer to "I won't do this and you can't make me" is "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out" (AKA "sharpen your blades boys"):

https://techcrunch.com/2022/09/29/elon-musk-texts-discovery-twitter/

With competition, regulation, self-help and labor cleared away, tech firms – and firms that have wrapped their products around the pluripotently malleable core of digital tech, including automotive makers – are no longer constrained from enshittifying their products.

And that's why your car manufacturer has chosen to spy on you and sell your private information to data-brokers and anyone else who wants it. Not because you didn't pay for the product, so you're the product. It's because they can get away with it.

Cars are enshittified. The dozens of chips that auto makers have shoveled into their car design are only incidentally related to delivering a better product. The primary use for those chips is autoenshittification – access to legal strictures ("IP") that allows them to block modifications and repairs that would interfere with the unfettered abuse of their own customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

The fact that it's a felony to reverse-engineer and modify a car's software opens the floodgates to all kinds of shitty scams. Remember when Bay Staters were voting on a ballot measure to impose right-to-repair obligations on automakers in Massachusetts? The only reason they needed to have the law intervene to make right-to-repair viable is that Big Car has figured out that if it encrypts its diagnostic messages, it can felonize third-party diagnosis of a car, because decrypting the messages violates the DMCA:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2013/11/drm-cars-will-drive-consumers-crazy

Big Car figured out that VIN locking – DRM for engine components and subassemblies – can felonize the production and the installation of third-party spare parts:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

The fact that you can't legally modify your car means that automakers can go back to their pre-2008 ways, when they transformed themselves into unregulated banks that incidentally manufactured the cars they sold subprime loans for. Subprime auto loans – over $1t worth! – absolutely relies on the fact that borrowers' cars can be remotely controlled by lenders. Miss a payment and your car's stereo turns itself on and blares threatening messages at top volume, which you can't turn off. Break the lease agreement that says you won't drive your car over the county line and it will immobilize itself. Try to change any of this software and you'll commit a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Tesla, naturally, has the most advanced anti-features. Long before BMW tried to rent you your seat-heater and Mercedes tried to sell you a monthly subscription to your accelerator pedal, Teslas were demon-haunted nightmare cars. Miss a Tesla payment and the car will immobilize itself and lock you out until the repo man arrives, then it will blare its horn and back itself out of its parking spot. If you "buy" the right to fully charge your car's battery or use the features it came with, you don't own them – they're repossessed when your car changes hands, meaning you get less money on the used market because your car's next owner has to buy these features all over again:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

And all this DRM allows your car maker to install spyware that you're not allowed to remove. They really tipped their hand on this when the R2R ballot measure was steaming towards an 80% victory, with wall-to-wall scare ads that revealed that your car collects so much information about you that allowing third parties to access it could lead to your murder (no, really!):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

That's why your car spies on you. Because it can. Because the company that made it lacks constraint, be it market-based, legal, technological or its own workforce's ethics.

One common critique of my enshittification hypothesis is that this is "kind of sensible and normal" because "there’s something off in the consumer mindset that we’ve come to believe that the internet should provide us with amazing products, which bring us joy and happiness and we spend hours of the day on, and should ask nothing back in return":

https://freakonomics.com/podcast/how-to-have-great-conversations/

What this criticism misses is that this isn't the companies bargaining to shift some value from us to them. Enshittification happens when a company can seize all that value, without having to bargain, exploiting law and technology and market power over buyers and sellers to unilaterally alter the way the products and services we rely on work.

A company that doesn't have to fear competitors, regulators, jailbreaking or workers' refusal to enshittify its products doesn't have to bargain, it can take. It's the first lesson they teach you in the Darth Vader MBA: "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Your car spying on you isn't down to your belief that your carmaker "should provide you with amazing products, which brings your joy and happiness you spend hours of the day on, and should ask nothing back in return." It's not because you didn't pay for the product, so now you're the product. It's because they can get away with it.

The consequences of this spying go much further than mere insurance premium hikes, too. Car telemetry sits at the top of the funnel that the unbelievably sleazy data broker industry uses to collect and sell our data. These are the same companies that sell the fact that you visited an abortion clinic to marketers, bounty hunters, advertisers, or vengeful family members pretending to be one of those:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/07/safegraph-spies-and-lies/#theres-no-i-in-uterus

Decades of pro-monopoly policy led to widespread regulatory capture. Corporate cartels use the monopoly profits they extract from us to pay for regulatory inaction, allowing them to extract more profits.

But when it comes to privacy, that period of unchecked corporate power might be coming to an end. The lack of privacy regulation is at the root of so many problems that a pro-privacy movement has an unstoppable constituency working in its favor.

At EFF, we call this "privacy first." Whether you're worried about grifters targeting vulnerable people with conspiracy theories, or teens being targeted with media that harms their mental health, or Americans being spied on by foreign governments, or cops using commercial surveillance data to round up protesters, or your car selling your data to insurance companies, passing that long-overdue privacy legislation would turn off the taps for the data powering all these harms:

https://www.eff.org/wp/privacy-first-better-way-address-online-harms

Traditional economics fails because it thinks about markets without thinking about power. Monopolies lead to more than market power: they produce regulatory capture, power over workers, and state capture, which felonizes competition through IP law. The story that our problems stem from the fact that we just don't spend enough money, or buy the wrong products, only makes sense if you willfully ignore the power that corporations exert over our lives. It's nice to think that you can shop your way out of a monopoly, because that's a lot easier than voting your way out of a monopoly, but no matter how many times you vote with your wallet, the cartels that control the market will always win:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/12/market-failure/#car-wars

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[mariclerc]

Hi

So, i watched the video of the radio between Charles and his new engineer at Imola. Safe to say i got some ideas, and was wondering if you could write something with Charles and engineer!reader? Basically something where reader is Charles’ engineer and he’s developed feelings for her, during a race ( could be Imola, or Monaco as thats this weekend) she talks to him like Bryan does and he realizes he has a praise kink. Could lead to smut if you’re comfortable with that. Thank you in advance.

Thank you for this request, I did my best to develop it as much as possible, I hope you like it!! <3<3

Strategies and praises | cl16 (+18)

Summary: you like to praise your driver, but you have no idea how much good it does him. Warning: fluff and some light smut.

a/n: CHARLES WON IN MONACO OH MY GOD, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! HE REALLY DID IT, I'M SO SO PROUD OF HIM!!! (not to jinx him I wrote this between Friday and Saturday so you won't have exactly the positions like in the race)

The Monaco Grand Prix is in full swing, everyone is excited and ecstatic as they want to know how the local driver, Charles, will do. You, as his race engineer, are under a bit of pressure, as well as him, but it's nothing you can't control. For you it is a race of mere strategy and that's it, since many overtakings do not usually occur, and that is why you and Charles spend a lot of time studying the different strategies that may happen in the race.

“If we get one last run with the mediums in quali, we can achieve pole position.” He says and you nod.

“That's right, it's just a matter of the track staying the same throughout qualifying and, in case you already have provisional pole and a red flag or something happens, you're already insured there.” you say as you finish reviewing some telemetry data.

Suddenly he lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little. You know he is stressed and overwhelmed by this weekend, it's not that he doesn't like it, on the contrary, it's the constant pressure to have a good race at home.

“But... But what if I qualify further back? I don't know, that will change the whole strategy, right?” He asks in a whisper, you nod.

“Ehm... That might change the strategy a little bit, of course, but it's nothing we can't recover with a couple of undercuts or overcuts...” you say to finally close your laptop.

You look at Charles and notice how your words calmed him down a bit, you have been his engineer since he arrived at Ferrari in 2019 and you have been known for giving him some praises every so often in the race. And a couple of times you have been criticized for some questionable decisions in the race, but he was in charge of clearing your name with pride those times, which you are very grateful to him since he always believes in you and you in him.

-

It's already race day and you find yourself with a lot of nerves, the day before Charles had qualified P3 and, although it was not what we expected, there was a certain tension and hope on the pit wall. The roar of the crowd fills Charles helmet as he navigates the tight corners of Monaco. You, his engineer, his voice of reason in the chaos, cut through the static.

“Charles, that was a phenomenal lap! You took the Rascasse beautifully, just keep pushing, we can still make a good climb!” you say on the radio. “Just try to make it clean, okay? You're doing a very good job.”

A small smile tugs at Charles' lips under the helmet... He wasn't just pushing or fighting for the podium anymore, he was pushing to hear your voice, to impress you, to make you feel proud of him.

You watch the telemetry with a focused intensity, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“Perfect line through Beau Rivage, Charles. You're a monster machine! Let's catch them boy! I know you can do it!” you said watching his lap, he had made a couple of overcuts.

The compliment hangs heavy in the air between you and Charles, a blush creeps up his neck even though you can't see it. He pushes even harder, the car straining under his command.

Charles crosses the finish line, a hard-fought P3. He lets out a guttural yell of exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through him. Maybe it's not a home win as he wished, but it's a podium and it's something at least.

“Great job, team! That was incredible. Y/n, you were brilliant on the strategy, thank you so much!” you heard his voice over the radio communication and you smiled.

“It was nothing Charles, now let's celebrate! You deserve it more than anyone!” you also say through the radio. “You did an absolutely amazing drive, Charles. You were phenomenal out there. We should celebrate after the podium ceremony!” you say and you let out a little giggle.

A shiver runs down Charles' spine... It wasn't just the post-race adrenaline, it was the way you said it, the subtle soft praise laced with something more, and that sweet and soft giggle of yours. All your colleagues on the pit wall hug you and congratulate you for such a spectacular strategy, Fred also congratulates you with a loving hug. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Relief and pride wash over you, how proud you are to work with someone like Charles is priceless, he is someone who always strives to achieve his own.

-

At the end of the podium and the interviews, the paddock was practically deserted, you found yourself putting some things in your briefcase when you hear Charles calling you to meet you in his driver's room.

The room is a mess of post-race adrenaline, empty water bottles litter the table, fireproof gloves are tossed on a chair, and Charles himself is sprawled on the sofa, he's still in his race suit, sweat clinging to his toned chest through the fireproofs. He looks exhausted but exhilarated and handsome to your eyes. You knock on the door.

“Come in!” You hear him say and you enter the room, a shy and tired smile adorns your face.

“Hey, you wanted to see me champ?” you asked softly.

Charles beckons you in, a shy smile playing on his lips. He pats the space beside him on the sofa.

“Yeah, come sit, please. There's a few things we need to go over, but...” He trails off, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long. You raise an eyebrow, amusement tugging at your lips.

“But what?”

“You did amazing today, you know that? We pulled off a miracle out there, keeping the position.” he smiled shyly.

You smiled lovingly at him. “We did, didn't we? Thanks for trusting my calls. You were a rocket ship on that track, Charles.”

His gaze lingers on you a beat too long. You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“Always. You're the best engineer I've ever had. Not just because of the numbers, but...” his voice became a little low, he hesitate a bit, then leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you believe in me... Even when I don't believe in myself, even when everyone doubts about my abilities or myself in general.”

Your heart skips a beat, you reach out, your fingers softly grazing his cheek. The touch seems to spark something in him, he leans into your hand, his eyes searching yours.

You blushed a little. “Hey, I'll always believe in you, Charles! You're incredible. You know that, right?”

His eyes hold yours, a new intensity there. He cups your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

“There's something else I want you to know... Something I've realized lately.” he says with a husky voice.

He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips, you feel a shiver run down your spine, he leans in slowly, and you meet him halfway. The kiss is electric, fueled by unspoken emotions and the adrenaline of the race. His hands explore your back gently, sending shivers down your spine.

“Your voice...” he kiss you again. “on the radio...” he give you another kiss. “it does things to me...” he said between kisses.

A laugh escapes your lips, breathless. “Like what, Charles?” you ask him teasingly.

He kisses your jaw, his voice a low rumble. “Like... it makes me want to drive faster, makes me want to win, to archive even more podiums... Especially when you...” He hesitates, then whispers in your ear. “Especially when you tell me I'm doing good, when you tell me that I can do it.” he said huskily.

A blush creeps up your neck. You realize what he's saying, a heat pooling in your core.

“So... you like a little praise, huh?” you whisper too.

He kisses your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “More than you know, mon ange, especially if it comes from you.”

The air crackles with unspoken desire. You let out a soft gasp as Charles undoes the buttons of your t-shirt, his touch lingering on the fabric. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him close for another kiss. This time, it's deeper, filled with a new urgency. His hands slide down your back, sending a fire down your spine.

“Then tell me, Charles. What do you want to hear?” you said breathlessly.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you're proud of me, tell me I drove flawlessly. Tell me you knew I could do it... Please.” he says in a whisper, practically begging you.

You run your hand through his hair, a slow smile spreading across your face. “I am so incredibly proud of you, Charles. You were phenomenal out there, you took that car to its limits and never gave up. You're a phenomenal driver, the best on the grid.”

His eyes lock on yours, the praise filling him with a surge of heat that goes beyond the race. He leans in again, his voice a husky whisper.

“More, keep going amour. Tell me you knew I could keep that podium, even when I doubted myself.”

You trace the outline of his jaw with your thumb, your voice dropping to a low purr. “I always knew you could keep that podium, Charles. You have this incredible talent, this fire inside you. You were born to be a champion!”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands explore your body, finding the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Don't stop please. You make me want to push myself even further, make me want to win every single race left, just to hear you say that again.” says with a ragged voice.

The praise fuels your own desire. You pull back slightly, your gaze flickering over his race suit, you smile.

“Then let's celebrate your podium properly, shall we? Show me just how good you are at taking some orders.” you say with a husky voice, and a triumphant grin splits his face.

-

The air hums with a different kind of electricity now. Charles's eyes darken, the praise turning him on far more than he expected. He leans in, his voice a low rumble.

“You don't just believe in my driving, do you baby?”

His hand dips under your shirt, brushing softly against your skin. You gasp, a shiver running through you.

“No, Charles. I believe in you... All of you. Your talent, your strength, your incredible heart. You're the most determined, passionate person I know! And seeing you out there, pushing yourself, it does something to me too...”

His touch ignites a fire within you, mirroring the one he feels. You trace a line down his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his damp race suit.

“What does it do, bellissima?” he says with a husky voice.

You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. “It makes me want to celebrate with you in a very different way.” you whispered in his ear.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. A slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of satisfaction and desire.

“Tell me then, how do you want to celebrate?” he asks.

You run your hand down his arm, sending a spark through both of you. “Let me show you how proud I am of the man you are, not just the driver. How much I admire your strength, your focus, everything that makes you so incredible.”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close again. This kiss is different, slower, filled with a deeper meaning. His touch explores your body, finding the places that make you shiver, places no one had ever discovered before.

“Then show me, bellissima. Show me everything you've been holding back.” he said with a rough voice.

You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on his. “But first, tell me one more thing. Did you ever think your engineer might be a little turned on by seeing you dominate the track?” you say shyly.

His laugh is a low rumble, filled with pure, unadulterated desire.

“Not until now, but believe me, gorgeous, the feeling is most definitely mutual.”

He finally pulls your shirt up all the way, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. As he slowly undresses you, his eyes never leave yours, a mixture of gratitude and raw desire burning bright. The celebration takes a turn neither of you expected, fueled by the adrenaline of the race, the praise that goes beyond the track, and the deep connection that has been simmering beneath the surface all along.

His eyes scanned your body at a slow place, he was drinking you in just by looking. His lips met yours in a gentle touch and your back met the couch as he hovered over you. Looking into his eyes you kissed him again, biting his lip which elicited a groan from him and a smile from you.

“Oh god amore, are you sure you want this?” He asked. “We can’t go back after you say yes.” he added in a low voice that send shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sure Charles.” you replied bringing his lips down to yours. Detaching his lips from yours he kissed down your body, your skin crawls when you feel his warm lips on your body, slowly kissing every curve and dip that adorns your silhouette, leaving a burning path on your skin, you let out a sigh. “God, you're so good to me Cha...” You whisper between a light sigh, your words made him let out a light growl, he felt his body react to your praise.

“Oh mon amour, je te ferai te sentir si bien... I will make myself worthy of your praise...” He says in a low and sensual voice, the mixture of French and English makes your head go crazy. (Oh my love, I'll make you feel so good...)

His lips continue their journey down your chest, taking the time to kiss your breasts gently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world, then he went down to your abdomen where he left loose kisses in the area, making you release one or another soft sigh. He continued down until he reached your core, he smiled at the sight of you completely naked, he softly kissed the inside of your thighs and your heart started beating super fast.

He started to leave sloppy kisses until he reached your folds, he began to leave sloppy kisses and licks on your wet folds, you raised your hips a little to give him easy access to that area, and he began to devour you slowly, he was taking his time to taste you. Your soft moans didn't take long, he slowly sucked on your clit, making you let out a loud moan that probably rang throughout the deserted paddock, but that's the least of it now.

“Keep doing that Charlie...” you say with heavy breathing and that gave him the impetus to continue savoring you with such passion, you hold on to his soft, silky hair. “God, you're such a... You're such a good boy.” you moan slightly.

Your words lit the fire in him a little bit more and he continued tasting you completely in his mouth, you were like a blessing in his life, like something he had wanted to try for a long time. You felt your walls tighten and a strong wave of pleasure washed over you, you felt like you were going to faint right there.

“Cha... Charlie... I'm... I'm close.” you whispered as you whimpered in pleasure, he stopped his ministrations on your core and looked up at you, god he looked so damn hot, his cheeks flushed, his face sweaty from the strenuous work he was doing down there.

He smiled and took off his boxers, revealing his erect cock, he brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly and sweetly, it was as if he didn't want to let this moment between you go. “If... If you don't feel comfortable or something, just tell me and I'll stop instantly, okay darling?” He said in a hushed whisper looking deeply at your eyes.

You looked and him and smiled shyly. “Charlie, I... I want this the same way you want it, okay? I want you to continue.” you whispered and he nodded. “Just do it, okay honey?”

He aligned himself with your entrance and gently entered you, giving you time to adapt to his big size, your breathing became erratic, he began to move slowly and a little loosely at the same time. He wanted to satisfy you, to please you, make you feel like you are the one who have the power in this precise moment... His hands ran over your body, just as they did at the beginning, until they reached your hips and he placed them there, his thumbs made circles in that area, he began to thrust into you with a little more rhythm. He began to breathe heavily, his hot breath coming into contact with your neck and that gave you chills down your spine, his movements were meticulously perfect, he took the moment to appreciate you and enjoy this.

You felt your walls tightening around him, making the two of you let out moans at the same time, to you, he looked like a Greek god at that moment, sweat taking over his toned torso, his darkened and dilated pupils watching you as if you were a goddess or some kind of miraculous apparition in his life.

“Mhm, bébé, I'm... I'm gonna cum.” he whispered against your neck, his agitated and husky voice a delight to your ears. “God, you feel so good around me chérie.” He murmured as he kissed the skin of your neck, making you sigh again and again.

You moaned as you felt the pleasure wash over you. “Such a good boy my precious Charlie.” you said with a husky voice. “I'm close too, handsome.” you whimpered and you closed your eyes.

The climax reached you two making you tremble with pleasure, your legs trembled and you felt how your breathing stopped being erratic. He rested his forehead against yours and kissed every little part of your face, while you just smiled, the love you feel for this man is incredible, something that goes beyond a simple discussion of strategies or friendly companionship.

When you finally felt that everything in you was completely normal, you spoke. “That... That was, amazing charlie.” you whispered softly, giving him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled. “You made me feel good... I haven't felt like this in a long time.” there was no lie in your statement, it had been a long time since the last time someone had made you feel as good as Charles had.

He smiled and blushed. “It was nothing sunshine, everything for you and only you.” he kissed your cheek. “I think you deserve good things more than anyone else.” he whispered too.

After a few seconds, silence was present in the room, but it was a fairly comfortable one, your hands were intertwined with his and your thumb caressed the back of his hand, you smiled shyly at the sight, it was something that looked so cute and innocent.

He smiled again and looked at you with great affection in his eyes. “I love you, darling... Thank you for this!” He whispered sweetly and kissed your temple.

You smiled tenderly. “I love you too charlie.” you whispered too. “Don't you think we should take even a quick shower?” You say and let out a shy giggle.

He smiles and raises his eyebrows, blushing. “Oh... Of course love!”

You just smile at him again and you kiss his cheek. “And then you take me to my hotel?”

He denied and picked you up in his arms to walk to the small bathroom in his driver room, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh, no my love... We will go to my house!” He said.

You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. “But... And my things? Everything is in the hotel...” You started to say but he interrupted you, leaving several small kisses on your lips.

“Don't worry about it honey, we'll look for that before we go to my house.” he smiled. “Just worry about being pretty and smart, my honey.” you giggled at his words.

“You forgot to mention bossy.” he laughed and blushed.

“Oh sure, a little bossy, but that's how I like you.” he whispered on your lips and kissed you again.

You just smiled while you went into the shower, you felt very happy because you never thought that Charles had something for you and that at the end of the day it was something that you also wanted at some point. You admired him as a driver, that was for sure, but as a person it was a totally inexplicable thing. Today showed you that, apart from being good at taking orders, he was excellent pleasing you and showing his true emotions, you can't wait to see where this new journey might take you both.

[hookhausenschips]

The Fastlane To Family {KR7}

500 Follower Special!!!

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Summary: The new rookie slowly becomes the on grid child of the Iceman.

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As the newest and youngest member of the Formula 1 grid, I, Y/N, stood beside my race car, inhaling the mixed scents of burnt rubber and high-octane fuel. The roar of the engines filled the air with palpable anticipation.

I glanced around, absorbing the vibrant spectacle, the excited chatter of fans blending with the mechanical symphony of the pit lane. Yet, amidst all the noise and excitement, there lingered a silence in my heart—a void left by a father who walked away from our family when I was just a child.

Growing up, it was just my mom and me. She was my rock, cheering me on from karting races to junior championships. Despite her unending support, there was always a part of me that felt incomplete. I had a father, but I never really had a dad.

It was during my first official test as an F1 driver that I met Kimi Raikkonen. Known as the 'Iceman' for his cool demeanor on track, Kimi was a veteran of the sport, admired by many for his straightforward attitude and racing prowess. As I struggled with the complexities of handling my F1 car, Kimi noticed me.

"Remember, it's all about balance and knowing your limits," he advised one afternoon as he watched me analyze some telemetry data that looked more like a cryptic puzzle.

I nodded, feeling somewhat star-struck. "Thanks, Kimi. It's just a lot to take in all at once."

"You’ll get there. It takes time," he replied, his voice carrying a calming assurance.

After that initial moment of guidance at my first test session, Kimi’s role in my life began to deepen progressively. It wasn’t just about racing anymore; it was about finding a connection that spanned beyond the track.

Over the next few races, Kimi became a mentor and a friend. His advice was always practical, his presence reassuring. Somehow, he began to fill a gap I hadn't realized was so profound.

As the season progressed, Kimi taught me about resilience, about facing the media, and handling the pressures that came with the sport. His family occasionally visited the races, and I saw the loving father he was to his own children. It was in those moments I felt both a sense of warmth and a twinge of envy.

One evening, after a particularly grueling race in Monaco where I had spun out, Kimi found me sitting alone by the paddock, my head in my hands.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, sitting beside me.

"It's just... sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this," I confessed. "I miss having someone to look up to. Someone who's there, you know?"

Kimi looked out into the distance before speaking. "I may not know all about your personal life, but on this track, you're never really alone. We’re a team. And if you ever need a bit of that... fatherly advice, I’m here."

His words were a salve to my bruised confidence.

A pivotal moment came mid-season during a particularly challenging weekend at the British Grand Prix. The weather was unpredictable, and so was my confidence in handling the car under such variable conditions. After a disheartening practice session, Kimi invited me to debrief over coffee, away from the bustling energy of the team garages.

As we sat down in the quiet of the motorhome, Kimi shared stories from his early days—mistakes he'd made and lessons he’d learned. "It's not just about fighting the car," he explained, "but cooperating with it, understanding it like a dance partner." His anecdotes were not only instructive but also peppered with his dry humor, making the lessons stick in a way that technical debriefs often didn't.

As the season progressed, our mentor-mentee relationship started to feel more like a friendship. Kimi invited me to join him and his family for dinner during a race weekend in Monaco. Sitting with his family, sharing laughs, and stories, I felt an inclusion that went beyond my expectations. His wife was warm and welcoming, treating me like a guest of honor, while his children eyed me with curiosity and shy smiles.

Our bond continued to strengthen as we faced various challenges together. During one stressful race in Singapore, where the heat and humidity tested every driver’s endurance, Kimi and I found ourselves fighting for podium positions. Post-race, exhausted yet exhilarated, we shared a long cooldown lap, discussing our individual races and the intense final laps.

“I saw you holding off Carlos behind you,” Kimi said, a note of respect in his voice. “You’re getting stronger every race.”

Hearing such words from Kimi wasn’t just a compliment; it was a form of validation from someone who had seen it all in the world of Formula 1.

Seasons changed, and my career in F1 began to flourish. With Kimi’s guidance, I improved not just my driving, but my understanding of the technical aspects of racing. His presence at critical moments of decision-making became something I relied on more than I had expected.

His mentoring had transcended the cockpit of a race car. Kimi had become a steadfast part of my life—a constant in a world marked by speed and change. Our bond, forged in the fast lanes, was built to last a lifetime, proving that sometimes, family finds you in the most unexpected places.

It was during a pre-race event that a journalist unexpectedly asked about my family. "I understand your father isn’t in the picture. How has that influenced you?"

I paused, looking over at Kimi who was signing autographs nearby, laughing with a young fan. Turning back to the journalist, I smiled.

"I grew up without a dad, that’s true. But I’ve found guidance, strength, and a bit of family right here in the paddock. Kimi’s been a great mentor and a father figure to me."

The racing season was nearing its end, and rumors about Kimi Raikkonen's retirement had been swirling in the paddock for weeks. However, nothing could have prepared me for the moment he confirmed it. We were in the team's motorhome when he gently broke the news to me personally.

"I think it's time for me to step back," Kimi said, his voice steady but his eyes revealing a hint of sadness. "Spend more time with my family, you know?"

I nodded mechanically, trying to process the information, but a storm of emotions was brewing inside me. As he continued to explain his decision, a sense of abandonment enveloped me, growing stronger and darker. It was as if history was repeating itself; just when I thought I had found a figure of stability and support, he was leaving.

"Kimi, you can’t leave," I blurted out, the words laced with a mix of desperation and anger. "You’re just like him—just like my father. You're walking away when I need you most!"

Kimi looked taken aback, his face softening. "Y/N, come here," he said, motioning for me to sit beside him. Hesitantly, I moved closer, trying to hold back tears that were threatening to spill.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know this might feel like I’m abandoning you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I'm not leaving your life—I’m just leaving the grid."

The dam broke, and tears streamed down my face. "It just feels like everyone I depend on leaves eventually," I confessed, the pain of past and present mingling together.

Kimi wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a reassuring hug. "Y/N, I’m not your father. I won’t just disappear. I promised to be there for you, and I intend to keep that promise. You’re part of my family now, and that doesn’t end with retirement. You'll always have a place with us, at our table, in our home. Anytime."

His words, genuine and firm, slowly seeped into my heart, easing the ache with the warmth of his assurance. "You mean that?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I do," he confirmed with a nod. "And hey, I'll be around. I’ll come to races when I can. And you’ll always be able to call me, anytime you need—about racing, or about life. Anything.”

As Kimi’s retirement neared, our interactions became tinged with a sense of urgency, each moment feeling more significant. One late afternoon in Italy, Kimi and I took a walk around the track, discussing life beyond racing.

“What worries you about all this ending?” I asked, curious about his thoughts on leaving the world he’d known for so long.

“It’s a big change, sure,” he admitted. “But life’s about phases. You end one chapter and start another. And remember, leaving F1 doesn’t mean disappearing. We’re family now, Y/N. That doesn’t end with retirement.”

His words were comforting, especially as I grappled with my own fears of abandonment. Seeing how he approached his transition with a mix of realism and optimism helped me understand that endings were also beginnings.

As we continued walking, the setting sun cast long shadows on the track, and Kimi stopped to look out over the circuit. “Every turn on this track has a story,” he mused. “Just like every phase in life. Make sure you live them fully, no matter the challenge.”

The conversation lightened my heart and cemented a new kind of bond between us. Kimi’s retirement race came, As Kimi drove his final lap, the crowds cheers felt like a celebration of more than just his career. It was a tribute to the enduring nature of chosen family, to the unbreakable ties that we had formed.

I felt a surge of gratitude. I might have lost a father early in life, but in this world of high speeds and fierce competition, I had gained something invaluable—a family on the track and a father figure who taught me more than just how to drive.

As the fireworks painted the sky, I realized that family isn't always defined by blood, but by the bonds we create and the promises we keep. Kimi had shown me that no matter the distance, those bonds can withstand more than we sometimes believe possible.

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F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @evie-119, @dhanihamidi, @leclercdior

[its-avalon-08]

so seb and y/n broke up after 2011, super messy break up, alot of tears, and they have never spoken after that. she switched jobs into mercedes. he has a panic attack and is gasping for breath and keeps asking for y/n. y/n comes running and seb breaks down sobbing. note the date is the same as the day they broke up. he confesses that he messed up and is so sorry. Thanks! love ur blog <333333333333333333

🍂🍂🍂🍂 one of my fav 🍂🍂🍂🍂

breathe baby breathe (sv5)

The air in the Red Bull garage hung heavy. The tension wasn't new - ever since 2010, ever since the spectacularly messy break-up that left a trail of shattered trophies and tear-stained pit walls, Seb and Y/N existed in an uneasy parallel universe within the F1 circus. He, a stoic German with haunted blue eyes, remained with Red Bull. She, a steely Brit with a heart encased in ice, had taken a high-profile switch to Mercedes.

Qualifying had been a disaster for Seb. A gearbox issue had left him stranded on track, his championship dreams spiraling down like a flaming meteor. Now, back in the garage, a cold sweat slicked his palms. His vision swam, the faces of mechanics blurring into an incomprehensible mess. His chest tightened, a cold vice squeezing the air from his lungs. He tried to take a breath, but it came out in a ragged gasp.

Panic clawed its way up his throat. This wasn't right. This wasn't just disappointment. His heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs, each beat a deafening boom in his head. The air, thick with the smell of burnt rubber and ozone, offered no solace. He fumbled for his water bottle, the plastic slick with sweat in his trembling hand.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He stumbled back, his vision going dark at the edges. A primal fear, a terror he hadn't felt since he was a child lost in the supermarket, seized him. A strangled cry escaped his lips �� not a word, just a raw sound of terror.

Mark Webber, ever the teammate, noticed Seb's distress first. "Seb! You alright?" The concern in Mark's voice barely penetrated the fog of panic muddling Seb's thoughts. He needed Y/N. It was a nonsensical thought, a desperate plea from a drowning man clutching at a straw. But it was the only lifeline he could grasp.

"Y/N," he rasped, his voice a pathetic croak. Mark's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The name had never passed Seb's lips in all these years. But right now, reason had abandoned him.

Mark didn't hesitate. He knew the history, the bitter fallout, but in this moment, all he saw was a teammate in distress. "Y/N!" he bellowed, his voice cracking through the tense silence of the garage.

Y/N was huddled in the Mercedes garage, dissecting the telemetry data from Lewis's qualifying run. The news of Seb's car trouble had filtered through, a bittersweet pang twisting in her gut. She'd long buried the ghost of their relationship, or so she thought.

Mark's urgent yell shattered her focus. "Y/N!" It echoed through the corridor, laced with a raw panic that sent a jolt through her. Memories, both bitter and sweet, flooded her mind. Ignoring the bewildered stares of her colleagues, she surged towards Red Bull's garage, a primal fear urging her forward.

The sight that greeted her ripped the carefully constructed wall around her heart clean open. Seb, usually the epitome of stoicism, was a crumpled mess on the floor. His face, drained of color, was contorted in fear, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His normally steely blue eyes were wide and frantic, searching for something, someone.

The past dissolved. This wasn't about their break-up, not anymore. This was about a human being in distress. Ignoring the initial shock, she dropped to her knees beside him, her professional training kicking in. "Seb, hey, focus on me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. He didn't respond, his gaze flitting around the room like a trapped animal.

Panic threatened to engulf her again, but she forced it down. Taking a deep breath, she mirrored it, holding his hand and speaking slowly, deliberately. "breathe baby breathe for me Seb. In with me, slow and steady." He flinched at the touch of her hand, a flicker of recognition crossing his face, then quickly masked by raw fear.

He tried, or rather, his body tried. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. Seeing his plight, she knelt closer, gently pushing a stray strand of hair off his damp forehead. It was a simple gesture, born of instinct, and it seemed to anchor him.

"That's it," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "Slow breaths. You're alright, Seb. You're with me." As the words left her lips, a strangled sob ripped through him, shaking his entire frame. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill, but he squeezed his eyes shut, a desperate attempt to hold them back.

Y/N's heart ached. The sight of his vulnerability shattered the years of built-up resentment. Without a thought, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His trembling body crumpled against hers, the final dam breaking. Sob after wracking sob escaped his lips, raw and unfiltered.

He didn't care if she saw. In that moment, all he needed was a human anchor, a safe harbor in the storm of his panic. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt the familiar pull of protectiveness surge through her. The past was still there, a shadow lurking at the edges, but right now, all that mattered was calming the storm raging within him.

The tremors in Seb's body gradually subsided, his sobs muffled against her shoulder. His grip on her arms tightened, a silent plea for comfort. Y/N held him close, stroking his hair with a gentleness that surprised even her. The scent of his familiar racing cologne, a mix of leather and adrenaline, flooded her senses, a potent reminder of a past she couldn't fully outrun.

"Y/N," he finally rasped, his voice hoarse. Shame laced each word, a stark contrast to the bravado he usually wore. "I miss you. So damn much." The words hung heavy in the air, a confession ripped bare by his vulnerability.

A lump formed in Y/N's throat. Part of her wanted to pull away, to retreat back into the icy fortress she'd built around her heart. But the raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability etched on his face, held her captive.

"You messed up, Seb," she said, her voice barely a whisper. It wasn't a question, but a simple statement, a truth they both acknowledged.

He flinched, a choked sob escaping his lips. "I know. I know, and I regret it every damn day. Even my parents yell about it. They keep saying I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me." His voice cracked, raw with self-loathing.

Y/N's breath hitched. She knew his parents adored her, a stark contrast to the strained relationship he had with his father at the time. The revelation stung, a reminder of what they'd lost.

A hesitant breath escaped her lips. "Seb," she started, unsure how to proceed.

He cut her off, a tremor running through his voice. "And the worst part? Even after all this time... I still love you, Y/N. Madly." He confessed the words in a rush, as if afraid to hold them back any longer.

Silence descended upon them, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, a soft, surprised sound escaped Y/N's lips.

"You still...?" She couldn't finish the question, the weight of his confession settling on her chest.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, a desperate plea for a flicker of reciprocation. "Every damn day," he whispered. "Even now, on our monthaversaries, I still go get your favorite pad thai."

The admission, a small, vulnerable detail from a past they both cherished, cracked the ice around Y/N's heart.

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips, a flicker of disbelief coloring her voice. "Pad thai, huh? You never did learn to like that."

Seb chuckled, a wet, shaky sound. "No, I never did. But seeing you devour it with that look of pure joy... it was worth every forced bite." His gaze softened, lingering on her face for a beat too long.

The weight of his words, laced with a longing that mirrored her own, threatened to unravel the careful control she'd maintained. Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "You know, I used to stalk your social media, Seb. Every model the tabloids linked you with, I'd dissect their pictures online, a jealous wreck." Shame burned in her cheeks as she admitted the truth.

His eyes widened in surprise. "You... you did?"

"Don't judge," she countered, a hint of defiance lacing her voice. "We both have things we regret."

He shook his head, his expression softening. "Never. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, even if I was a colossal idiot back then."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. "Maybe a little," she conceded. "But even after switching teams, a part of me still wants you to win every race, Seb. It's a terrible conflict of interest, I know."

He squeezed her hand, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. "Really?"

"Don't get cocky," she teased, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But seeing you on that podium, the pure joy on your face... it's hard to explain."

A comfortable silence settled between them, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged just moments before. Then, a mischievous thought struck Y/N.

"Speaking of confessions," she began, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Remember those chocolate chip cookies Mark always seems to have a stash of during race weekends?"

Seb's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of recognition dawning on his face. "Wait, you...?"

"Guilty as charged," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "I figured you still loved them, even after all these years."

Seb's lips curved into a genuine smile, the first one she'd seen in far too long. "You have no idea," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "They were... a ray of sunshine on some pretty dark days."

Their eyes met, a spark of something new igniting in the space between them. The past, with all its baggage, still loomed, but for the first time, they weren't facing it alone.

two days later

Two days had passed since their tearful encounter in the Red Bull garage. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a constant undercurrent in the sterile environment of the Formula One paddock. Y/N sat hunched over her laptop in the Mercedes motorhome, the glow of the screen illuminating the dark circles under her eyes. Sleep had been a distant dream, replaced by the whirring of her mind replaying every stolen glance, every hesitant touch with Seb.

A soft knock startled her from her thoughts. Wiping the fatigue from her eyes, she called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish Seb holding a familiar white paper bag. His hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," he mumbled, stepping inside hesitantly.

"Seb? What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with surprise.

He held up the bag, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Pad thai. Your favorite. I, uh, thought maybe you could use a break from all that data?"

A wave of warmth washed over Y/N. "You remembered," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the bag.

"How could I forget?" he replied, his voice softer than she'd heard in years. "It's become more than just a dish, Y/N. It's a reminder of everything we were, everything I messed up."

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes searching hers. The vulnerability in his gaze tugged at her heartstrings.

"Look," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, "I know this is crazy, showing up here unannounced after everything. But I can't stay silent anymore. These past few days have been torture. The thought of you... of losing you again..." He trailed off, his voice choked with emotion.

"Seb," Y/N started, her own voice trembling.

He held up a hand, silencing her. "No, let me finish. These past years have been a living hell without you. Every race win felt hollow, every victory parade a painful reminder of what I'd thrown away. My parents were right, you know. You were the best thing that ever happened to me."

He took another step closer, the air crackling with unspoken emotions between them. "Y/N," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I love you. I never stopped. And if there's even a sliver of a chance, I want you back. I want to rebuild what we had, stronger this time."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, blurring his image. She couldn't take his beautiful monologue any longer. With a strangled cry, she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. The pad thai forgotten, they fell into a desperate embrace.

"Seb," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. "I love you, I love you, I love you," the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

He held her tighter, the sound of her choked sobs a balm to his tortured soul. "Never letting you go again," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with a promise they both desperately wanted to keep.

In the heart of the bustling Formula One paddock, amidst the roar of engines and the relentless pursuit of victory, they found solace in each other's arms. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in years, they weren't facing it alone. They had each other, a second chance at a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger, more resilient than ever before.

[orteil42]

Between the recent custom buttons post with the pipe bomb and the gamification post with the post -deleting boss fight I'm starting to get absolutely feral over the idea of you making a social media platform.

The companies that run the current options are cowards.

i would honestly love to give it a crack and were i younger and sillier i think i probably would. unfortunately by now i've become a bit too aware that creating a social media website is one of those nightmare projects that is guaranteed to be 500 times more work and trouble than you initially expect, and if i get into that i'd never have time for anything else. i'd also have to deal with hiring an actual team and be an actual company instead of just some guy who codes in his bedroom. and then let's say maybe the website takes off and we get a few thousands of active users. after a while our uptime becomes terrible; people can't log in, posts won't load. tech sites are starting to make fun of us. we have to grow, get bigger servers, hire more people. eventually i'd have to confront the fact that despite my cute take on monetization our social media isn't recouping the growing server expenses and our seed money is drying up and people at the office are starting to bang at my door to get paid. do i pull the plug and throw away everything we've built so far? likely not, even my own ego aside there's too many people's livelihoods on the line. other folks on the team are motivated to make this work, and a feedback loop forms where we start to ever-so-slightly readjust our values if it means we get to survive another quarter. i get more cynical; our ad slots are more and more intrusive, our monetization strategy gets shiftier and more aggressive. we accept funding from less and less savory entities. we start collecting user data beyond simple telemetry. if we've gotten big enough by that point, we may choose to restructure and begin taking on shareholders. this is a deal with the devil, and we now have a fiduciary duty to play nasty and treat our userbase like livestock in order to secure short-term profit. we can't just stop accepting new users; continued growth demands that we throw away what's left of our ethics to accommodate the gargantuan swaths of money that hundreds of thousands of database calls per second require. those of us who disagree with the new direction are gradually nudged away from positions of power. me, i've either been kicked out of my own project a while back or i've adapted to become someone i would've despised a few years prior. this is all assuming the website didn't crash and burn a few months after launch from either my technical shortcomings or my inexperience with management, or maybe just because our site ended up being too niche to really snowball. it is fun to think about tho!

[cryptotheism]

which amber skies character would go easy on me in basketball to foster a love for the sport and which one would dunk on my ass to make me strive for perfection?

Student: Your ankles are shattered. She wins by dunking but also hits her head on the backboard trying to show off.

Teacher: "Now that I have learned this 'Balling' I believe my height and flexibility give me an unfair advantage."

Sorcerer: Mechanical body is not exactly built for ballin, but gives it the old college try.

Nico: Genetically augmented for speed and agility. Knows that using his mantis form would be cheating. Goes easy on you and you both have a fun time.

Kali: She is 6'4''. She goes easy on you, and you have a fun time, but are filled with a sort of tribal desire to impress her. Triggering her competitive spirit will destroy your ankles.

Marin: Does his best to dribble. Has a fun time.

Kip: "Using my tongue does count as possession." Plays like a bastard but you have a fun time.

Lunine: Does her best. Will get slightly mad at you if she thinks you're travelling. Counts the shot clock out loud.

Six: Will alter his augments to match your physical ability. Gives you pointers on your form. Encourages you. Brought popsicles and homemade lemonade. You have a genuinely wonderful time.

Silence-Between-Strikes: Your eyes cannot physically track her dribbling. Uses her superior speed to position herself in your blindspots. Fifteen foot vertical leap from half-court. LIDAR telemetry sinks a seamless three-pointer at 145mph. Nothing but net.