Okay No Cause I’ve Been Sitting On This Thought Since The Race But. Can We All Agree That All The Things

landoscar work so well together bc oscar's love language is helping others and knowing things and lando knows seemingly nothing at all and needs a lot of help from oscar

Happy to be included

nothing scarier than being a fan of a fic and then becoming mutuals with the author. like hi shakespeare. big fan of your fake dating au

are you actually a ghost?

Yeah I was born in 1864 and died in 1878

baby max did irreparable psychic damage to the entirety of red bull. they simply don't understand that other people will not survive being pulled up straight from f3 and win their first race in a fast enough car without prior testing. repeat after me: there won't be another max verstappen, you stupid slut

Dont talk to me, currently in mourning about the best duo on the grid 😔✋

i've just caught up with the chinese gp, has anyone talked about how the french commentators called charles by mistake "charles VERSTAPPEN" and went on to joke about max naming his kid charles

because i died

well. so far not so good

Hello weary traveller, sit by me, the fire is so warm tonight. I have a story to tell you, one of caution. Long ago, in the decadant lands of 2013, I was a young lay, glossy eyed and full of hope, unknown to the shear terror and darkness of this world. I was traveling from JFK to Heathrow, as I had very important business with the queen to attend to. Me, being the old soul I am, I had though it was 1920s, and so put on a tag on my briefcase that said "Keep me with my owner UWU, im going to London! Nyan" (I was an UWUgirl at this time, I have since evolved, and would not like to talk about this particularly dark element of my past), and just for good measure added a picture of me trollfacing (it was 2013). When I arrived to Heathrow airport, I was waiting for my lagauge, when a tall, beafy, tatted, undemure, gentleman came up to me, and violently tapped more shoulder (it was more like an earthquake for me). He said "Hey, is this you?" and hands me the crumpled up, partially torned, and oddly shoe sole ridden tag with the message and picture. I, of course, said "yes that is." as, the evidence was undeniable, I was very much discernable. Right as I finished my sentence, the man pulls out a cricket bat (we were in Britain, btw), which he hits me over the head with, and I go cold immediately. When I woke up, I had no idea how long it had been since the incident (I had no concept of time at this... time), but it certainly was longer than a day (gut feeling). I was outside of my house, it was night time, and next to me was the battered remains of my briefcase. My roomate, Hatsune Miku, had came running out and said "Are you ok??" and my other roomate, Luigi Mangione, came outside, took one look at me, and just sighed. I hope you got something from this story. Many wise lessons can be learned with this one, choose one that speaks to your soul, and keep it with you, like that warm meal that you ate that one time.

I am absolutely moved by this story, it has brought tears to my eyes. I will make sure to tell this story to my future children