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i'm starting a collection

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maxie drawing i did not too long ago

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idc how bad shit gets I'm not reading formula one yaoi

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charles isn't necessarily a wdc breaker or whatever it is some people call him. he IS a supremely talented driver. but more importantly he's one of those tubeworms that live in hydrothermal vents who, through millions of years of evolutionary adaptation, have made a home for themselves in the most inhospitable environment in the world.

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Do you think all the other drivers have a mcl they’re rooting for in the championship over the other. Do the rookies have a side bet going that ever makes them say huh what if I just took a little longer to move out of the way when I’m being lapped and helped my guy out.

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Based on this perfect post by @formulahs and these perfect set of tags by @janinaduszejko, team 55 from Alex's POV

He says to Lily, “I think you’d get along well with her.”

Lily shrugs, easy, beautiful. “Sure. I get along with everybody.”

The simplicity of it makes Alex smile. On occasion he fashions her into a shield on his right arm as he wades into the battle that is PR. She always knows when he’s doing it, those times he’s less inclined to be polite to a camera, and Alex can see her straightening herself up, mustering the fortitude to talk enough for the both of them and look happy while doing it.

He thinks she’d get along wonderfully with Rebecca, not that she ever needs him to point it out. It’s just sometimes, sometimes he sees Rebecca with Alexandra and feels a little bad, that Lily doesn’t have that picture-perfect friendship with anyone here in the grid, and then he feels a little bad about feeling a little bad, because it’s so silly isn’t it? Worrying about something like that, and Lily goes on to prove his point by tossing her head back and laughing.

“You know I don’t need any of that,” she says indulgently, poking him in the cheek the way no one else is allowed to. Alex endures it, equally indulgent, before he pokes her in the dimple right back. “I have my people, or person, rather,” she waggles her eyebrows at him, “and she has hers.”

“You mean Alexandra?”

“Actually.” Lily taps her index finger on her chin. “I was talking about, well.”

He recognizes that mischievous lilt in her voice. “Talking about what?”

“They’re all awful close, aren’t they?” Lily says. “It’s nice.”

“Who’s close?” Alex says, increasingly lost.

“Dummy,” she says, pinching his side fondly. “Maybe open your eyes, next time.”

By now, race weekends are tattooed into his nervous system, more memory than muscle, and Alex mostly survives the year-long schedule by allowing himself to be bothered by the important things, like his car’s lack of a usable engine, and letting everything else fly over his head. Everything. Taking Lily’s advice has never led him astray, but he’s reconsidering that statistic when he makes a point to open his eyes at the wrong place and wrong time. Over by Carlos’s side of the garage, Rebecca kisses Teto thoroughly on the lips before leaving. Teto leans into it like it’s the most normal thing in the world, getting kissed so soundly by Carlos’s girlfriend, before he turns away to wait for Carlos like an obedient puppy.

you’re the worst, he texts Lily.

aw ✌️✌️✌️  you love me

i do

k now that that’s clear, what did i do?

“The car’s feeling steadier this weekend, what do you think?” and Alex nearly jumps a foot out of his skin. Carlos is looking at him, all hopeful, something he’s never managed to polish out of any of his facial expressions. On full display, as clear and as breakable as glass.

Unfortunately, the discomfort of having that painful earnestness blasted square into his face has kinda-sorta-maybe morphed into a resigned fondness. It’s good that at least one of them can manage some optimism. Presumably it bodes well for the future. Alex nudges Carlos with his elbow, tucking his phone neatly away. He’ll tell Lily exactly what she’s done later.

“It’s not bad,” he says, purposely non-committal. The combined weight of gravity on a fuckass massive boulder is familiar to Alex’s shoulders by now, but still in the process of becoming familiar to Carlos. Carlos with his hopeful questions and hopeful Instagram posts, week in week out, hopefulness of course being the one thing Alex couldn’t have foreseen fashioned into a weapon he would be weak against. “We’ll get the McLarens in turn one, eh?”

Carlos laughs, jostles Alex back gently. Smiles at him in that agonisingly tender way before wandering out. Teto makes to follow like a planet that must orbit the sun, waving goodbye to a mechanic and cutting the conversation short the moment he sees Carlos leave. Alex can’t wrap his head around it, and even though there are some things he understands he’s not meant to understand, this has nothing to do with curiosity (a lie) and everything to do with Carlos’s wide, hopeful eyes (not a lie).

“How could you do that,” Alex demands in a hiss-like whisper, before he can rethink his stupid, life-upending choices.

Teto blinks at him, bewildered, seemingly torn between running off after Carlos and finding out how crazy Alex is about to get, before he crouches close in a very conspiratory way. “Do what?” Teto whispers back.

Somehow that gets Alex even more agitated, Teto acting all innocent.

“Do that to Carlos,” Alex says, hands waving in the air to encompass all of that. “You. I saw. You and her.” He stops, recognizing he’s being a bit of an asswipe. The rational part of himself yelling It’s none of my business! he smothers away by force.

“How could you,” he concludes lamely.

“Oh,” Teto says, eyes widening in clarity. “Oh, I mean, that’s.” At least he has the decency to look—slightly ashamed? While scrubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not—eh. How you say.”

“Cheating?” Alex says scathingly.

There’s an awkward pause to beat all awkward pauses, and then to Alex’s complete befuddlement, Teto’s face slowly splits open into a grin. Full on beam sent Alex’s way, the nerve. Alex is enroute to opening his mouth with an obnoxious insult when suddenly, Teto’s hand finds its way to Alex’s cheek. Two very gentle, very soft pats. Alex is stunned by the power of touch into submission.

“You are angry, yes? For Carlos?” Teto says. He pats Alex’s face once more, and Alex fights the insane urge to flush. “That is good. He needs teammates like you.”

“I—what?” Alex’s mouth flops open. None of this conversation is going according to plan, not that there was any plan from the beginning. “I am very confused.”

“Eh,” Teto says, shoulders going up and down, one smooth journey. “Long story. Carlos is very focussed during weekends. He doesn’t want, he calls it distractions." Teto rolls his eyes. "So we—eh, you know. Short story is if Carlos asks, I give him details.”

If Alex’s mouth stays open any longer, a family of spiders could probably make a web and set up shop in it. “So you’re not, er. You’re not—?”

“I could not,” Teto says, with an expression Alex doesn’t see very often on Teto’s face, unless it is directed at Carlos. “We,” he corrects, “could not hurt him, no?” It doesn't take long for the expression to morph into something devious, much more suited for Teto. “And you don’t have to worry anyway, at the end of the race we all give him the best—”

“Good talk,” Alex says immediately, recognizing it’s time for a strategic retreat. In the span of five minutes, he’s managed to put his foot in his mouth in the most ludicrous of ways and learned far more about his teammate than a teammate should ever learn. “I’ll see you around, Teto. I think, Carlos is waiting for you, isn’t he?”

Carlos is indeed waiting. Head angled toward somewhere between the horizon and the ground, staring off into not much of anything. Teto winks at Alex, then prances away to fetch his boy. It’s not even two seconds before Alex is on the phone.

“Lily, oh my god.”

“Left me on read, huh?” she says, amused. “You better spill.”

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WIMBLEDON 2022 // WIMBLEDON 2025

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Qatar, 2024. By Sam Bloxham.

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SPA, BELGIUM - JULY 26: Third placed qualifier Charles Leclerc of Monaco and Scuderia Ferrari is interviewed during qualifying ahead of the F1 Grand Prix of Belgium at Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps on July 26, 2025 in Spa, Belgium.

📸 Photo by Clive Rose - Formula 1/Formula 1 via Getty Images.

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first time i'm seeing lando's pov of this moment??? IM NOT .. OKAY???????

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i hate it when a ship is so popular fhat you cant go into a character tag without seeing the other guy too... i dont want him. go away

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everyone who interacts with a post on my blog is entered into a secret lottery wherein a winner is randomly chosen for me to go thru their blog for a minute or two. thanks for playing, everyone

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Parents are for telling their children who they're supposed to be. We're here to give you tools, to help you make fools of yourselves, all on your own. Your choices, Clark. Your actions. That's what makes you who you are. Tell you something, son. I couldn't be… more proud of you.

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something i’ve kind of noticed with the surfacing of this whole “the best smut is a character study” kind of mindset is the pipeline to a borderline “when i write porn i do it intellectually unlike some of you SICKOS” type of mindset and i just wanted to remind you especially in our current political atmosphere that writing porn doesn’t have to be intellectual to have value. it can be just horny. thanks