#Instagram algorithm secrets

[bishnoseo]

Increase Instagram Followers Grow Your Business, Bishno Biswas

#16 Algorithm Hacks To Grow Your Instagram In 2024 #how to grow on Instagram #Instagram algorithm explained #Instagram algorithm secrets #how to get followers on Instagram #Instagram growth #Instagram #instagrammarketing #instagramgrowth

[zentechia]

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[thealternateuniverse]

How did you handle it?

1st part here

A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭

Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.

Warning/s: Read at your own risk

----------------------

Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.

She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.

Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.

"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.

"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.

"Shut up!" She took her phone.

KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.

"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.

"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.

"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.

These two are as mischievous as ever.

Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.

"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.

"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"

She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.

"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.

Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.

"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.

"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."

Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.

"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.

------------

Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.

"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.

"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.

"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.

"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.

Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce

In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.

While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.

Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.

The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.

Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"

KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."

Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."

The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.

KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."

KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.

The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.

"That's what we're talking about."

----------------

Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.

Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.

Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.

In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.

"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.

"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.

"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.

Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.

"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.

"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.

Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.

Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.

-------

"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."

As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.

Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.

Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.

"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.

Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.

"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.

"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"

"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.

"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."

Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.

"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.

Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.

"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.

They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.

Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.

They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.

"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.

Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.

"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.

"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.

"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.

"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.

"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.

"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.

Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kk arnold #nika muhl #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige bueckers x reader

[violainebriat]

It's a bit weird typing out a full post here on tumblr. I used to be one of these artists that mostly focused on posting only images, the least amount of opinions/thoughts I could share, the better. Today, the art world online feels weird, not only because of AI, but also the algorithms on every platform and the general way our craft is getting replaced for close to 0 dollars. This website was a huge instrument in kickstarting my career as a professional artist, it was an inspiring place were artists shared their art and where we could make friends with anyone in the world, in any industries. It was pretty much the place that paved the way as a social media website outside of Facebook, where you could search art through tags etc. Anyhow, Tumblr still has a place in my heart even if all artists moved away from it after the infamous nsfw ban (mostly to Instagram and twitter). And now we're all playing a game of whack-a-mole trying to figure out if the social media platform we're using is going to sell their user content to AI / deep learning (looking at you reddit, going into stocks). On the Tumblr side, Matt Mullenweg's interviews and thoughts on the platform shows he's down to use AI, and I guess it could help create posts faster but then again, you have to click through multiple menus to protect your art (and writing) from being scraped. It's really kind of sad to have to be on the defensive with posting art/writing online. It doesn't even reflect my personal philosophy on sharing content. I've always been a bit of a "punk" thinking if people want to bootleg my work, it's like free advertisement and a testament to people liking what I created, so I've never really watermarked anything and posted fairly high-res version of my work. I don't even think my art is big enough to warrant the defensiveness of glazing/nightshading it, but the thought of it going through a program to be grinded into a data mush to be only excreted out as the ghost of its former self is honestly sort of deadening.

Finally, the most defeating trend is the quantity of nonsense and low-quality content that's being fed to the internet, made a million times easier with the use of AI. I truly feel like we're living what Neil Postman saw happening over 40 years ago in "amusing ourselves to death"(the brightness of this man's mind is still unrivaled in my eyes).

I guess this is my big rant to tell y'all now I'm gonna be posting crunchy art because Nightshade and Glaze basically make your crispy art look like a low-res JPEG, and I feel like an idiot for doing it but I'm considering it an act of low effort resistance against data scraping. If I can help "poison" data scrapping by wasting 5 minutes of my life to spit out a crunchy jpeg before posting, listen, it's not such a bad price to pay. Anyhow check out my new sticker coming to my secret shop really soon, and how he looks before and after getting glazed haha....

#ai protection #my art #violaine briat

[webslingingslasher]

is trouble ever frat!peter’s lock screen? Either before or after the whole situationship thing or secretly during both eras? If so, what picture?

yes! relationship!peter does it proudly, situationship!peter is a bit more stealth. iphones have a wallpaper feature where if you hold the screen down you can swap between photos and i imagine that’s how it is.

peter went home for a week and really missed you and went through his photos and he saw that picture he snapped of you at a party. the background is blurred, proof that the liquor was flowing heavily. you’ve got a smile that shows off almost every tooth and a vice grip on a liter of rum. he doesn’t know why, but he made it his wallpaper for the week and would pick up his phone every five minutes just to look at it.

relationship!peter has a picture of the both of you. something he looks at and is reminded of what he has and how much he truly loves you. it was from a double date night you both had a few months into being official, your friend pressured peter for the photo, he rolled his eyes and gave in. he’s glad he did. it’s his favorite.

you’re wrapped around him in a side hug, peters got a grip on your shoulder. he’s laughing at something your friends date said, he’s wearing the grin you tell him you love. but the reason he has such adornment for the photo is because of the way you’re looking at him.

your eyes are bright and shining, your smile matches his, not because you found anything funny, but because peter’s joy was contagious for you. each time he looks at it he feels warmth radiate, a visual reminder of how much you love him.

—

(you know i had to add a bonus of trouble finding peter’s wallpaper!! -situationship!peter obv)

‘just sit here and look pretty, i’ll be thirty minutes tops.’

peter had pulled you away from date night with the promise of stopping at his chapter meeting. he had negotiated the first hour, trent, the chapter president, wouldn’t break on the last thirty minutes and demanded peter be there. or else.

you wouldn’t mind but peter didn’t tell you until last minute and now you’re sitting down at an empty table at the library while they fill up a rented room across from you.

‘it’ll be longer than that and you know it.’

‘you’ll be fine. give me a kiss.’ you meet him with one, you grumble down at your phone. ‘my phones about to die, what am i supposed to do?’

peter feigns shock, ‘oh no!’ he looks around, ‘i hope you’ll find something to do in this big, empty library. it might be hard.’

your eyes narrow, you hate his sarcasm. ‘the library doesn’t have instagram reels, peter. how am i supposed to entertain myself while you’re talking numbers and business?’

there’s a miniature battle of silence, you win when peter groans and hands over his phone from his back pocket. ‘here. use mine.’ you reach forward, peter’s giving you unbridled access to his phone, you’d be dumb to say no.

‘nuh uh. you promise me right now you won’t fuck up my algorithm, i spent months perfecting it.’ you make grabby hands, ‘promise.’

the sleek, black screen is in your hold in seconds. your thumbs fly over the screen, you’re in and on instagram in a second. peter looks back once more, ‘thirty minutes.’ you nod, the first video already playing, you wish you could send it to peter. you send it to yourself to send back to him when you’re at a full charge.

ten minutes and you need a refresher, wandering around towards the bathroom you grab a water from a vending machine. cracking the cap, your left thumb pressed into peter’s home screen and his wallpaper separated, another photo right next to it.

you can recognize the edge, you swipe and feel your heart melt into a puddle. it’s you and only you. smiling and posing just for peter. he snapped the pic and saved it, he even went one step further and put it as his screensaver. a backup one, but something tells you he doesn’t want you knowing it exists.

you can keep a secret.

you can’t stop smiling at his phone and the short videos playing aren’t even that funny. you perk at a kiss on the top of your head. ‘told you i’d only be thirty minutes… what? why are you looking at me like that?’

‘no reason. it was very nice of you to offer me your phone, thank you.’

another kiss, you can’t wait til you get him alone. you might be the only one in on the secret, but he was going to be treated very nicely for it.

‘no problem, trouble. what’s mine is yours.’ your heart thumps louder. ‘and now,’ peter gently pulls you up with him, you’re along for the ride.

‘i owe you dessert, let’s go.’ you don’t walk with him, you stay until his hand tugs yours, peter looks back at you confused. ‘i wanna have dessert at yours.’

peter pouts, ‘tarrent polished off the ice cream.’

‘i know.’ peter knows that tone, now he’s standing straighter and acting casually. ‘oh? alright, yeah, let’s go home.’

#frat!peter drabbles

[beanmachine69]

can you please right a lance stroll fic where they both love each other but don’t know it yet?

Blankets | Lance Stroll

The season had ended, it was early December and as per tradition, your families were in their cabin in the mountains. It was a silly cliche, but over the years you’d grown to look forward to it, especially since Lance started his f1 career and you two would rarely get to relax together like you usually would. Having grown up around each other, you two were practically inseparable; falling into all the childhood best-friend categories you could find. You’d support his career as much as you could, cheering him on from home and sometimes the paddock- you two were seen so often together that at some point some dating rumors had sprung up too.  

You had known Lance all your life, you two had spent most of your childhood together. He was almost two years older than you, which made you the youngest of the bunch and though Chloe always treated you like a little sister, hanging out with her wasn’t always an option because of the major age difference. Your families had been together for generations, your fathers being family friends since they were kids themselves too- the Strolovich family feeling like your own second home. 

“Fires’ nice and warm outside.” Your mother commented, passing the lounge to reach the kitchen, “You two sure you wanna stay here in front of the TV?” 

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood to hang out with my drunk father, that's your job.” You replied, eyes still plastered on the large screen in front of you. 

“You both become the same person when you’re drunk y’know.” Lance mumbled, eyes not moving to look at your phony expression of betrayal.

You playfully shoved him away from you, only for him to bounce back and press his side against you again. You two were always close, having had very little physical boundaries around one another as you grew up. You’d had plenty of cozy moments, none of them meaning anything more than what they were to either one of you. Albeit, this proximity would look far more romantic than platonic to strangers, you two had learned to keep it reserved for private spaces, the last thing you needed were more rumors for Lance to have to deal with later.

Movie nights at the cabin were more than what the rest of your families had understood them to be. You could still recall how you two would bond over these nights, and how often you’d whisper secrets to each other in the blanket- secrets that neither of you would have the guts to share face-to-face. You had told Lance about your awful first kiss while some silly 90s’ comedy movie played, and he had told you about his first failed talking stage while you both rewatched Criminal Minds for the millionth time. These shared moments under the blanket and in front of the TV were sacred to the both of you, it was like a little safe space for any and all confessions, it was these moments which made your bond so inseparable; under the blankets, with the faint light of the television seeping through the fabric to illuminate the cozy space as the conversation was muffled from others by the blanket and the background noise- it was a weird tradition, but one which you both cherished. 

You didn’t mind horror movies, or the genre in general, but perhaps binging a bunch with Lance late into the night in a cabin far from civilization wasn’t the best possible idea. So there you were now, afraid in your bed after having been forced by the instagram algorithm to continue your horror binge, alone in your room with all the curtains drawn out of the fear of a mountain creature. Your fear was irrational, you had no reason to be as scared as you were, but it still managed to keep you from falling asleep. You decided if you were going to be consumed by a horror beyond human comprehension, you might as well get a snack before doing so. 

The walk downstairs to the kitchen was frightening enough, but now you could hear the wind a lot clearer now, and every breath that escaped you seemed to sound unlike your own, your own shadow frightening you with every surface that it fell on. As you began to eat the chips you and Lance had bought earlier, your mind managed to consume itself in more theories and possibilities- kidnapping, demonic possession, a gruesome death by the hands of a wendigo, could Slenderman be here somewhere?-

“What are you doing up?”

Those five words were enough for your brain to completely haywire, accepting all possible scenarios to be true all at once, your flight or fight response kicked in, making you scream and drop your chips. Not particularly fight or flight, but it was something, in the case of any of the terrifying scenarios you had pictured earlier to come true, this would have possibly been the last sign of you your family or friends would have heard. 

“Jeez, why are you screaming?” Lance laughed, aware of how his efforts to spook you had worked out. 

“Oh my God Lance, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” You scolded, shoving him in the arm. 

Your hand was on your chest, feeling your heart pounding from the sudden burst of adrenaline. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d shit yourself.” Lance continued to laugh, clearly finding amusement in your reaction. 

You rolled your eyes as you tried clearing up the little mess you made by dropping the chips on the floor; Lance stayed in the kitchen, wordlessly grabbing you a replacement and one for himself too. You two stood there, not saying a word, only looking at the remnants of the fireplace outside as you finished your snack. 

“It’s really cold.” You mumbled, eyes on the burnt out logs. 

“Hm? Yeah.” He replied, moving his eyes from the window and back to you. 

The kitchen was dimly lit, with neither of you bothering to turn on any more lights than the countertop lighting that was already on. It was cozy, but for some reason the house was still cold despite the central heating. There was a dense silence between you two, your breathing being a silent acknowledgement of the other person, it was comfortable to be in someones’ presence and not feel the need to fill the space with words. 

“I can’t sleep.” Lance sighed, breaking the silence and prompting you to turn around to face him instead of the window.

“What, you scared?” You asked, teasingly nudging him a bit. 

His features looked enhanced in the dim light of the kitchen. You were never one to pay attention to how his face looked in different lighting, but the scarce light emitting from the below the cabinets and above the counters deepened his features; his brows almost seemed to cast a shadow over his dark eyes, making them seem black almost, the light shadows under his cheekbones and jaw seemed to be darkened in the sparse lighting- he almost looked intimidating to you for the first time. He didn’t seem like the pleasant and joyful friend you knew, but some serious and solemn man for a moment, only for a fleeting moment did you see that version- momentarily you quite literally saw him in a different light. 

“Shut it, do you wanna go upstairs? You could hang out in my room for a bit.”

The moment passed faster than it had appeared, making you question whether it had ever appeared or not.

“Sure.” 

Lance propped himself against the headboard, watching you as you sat across from him on the chair. The room was surprisingly cold too, was the heater not working or were you just cold?

“You never told me about that date you went on by the way.” Lance asked, putting his phone away from him; a gesture he did often to indicate his undivided attention was directed at you.  

“Which one?” You asked, not recalling any dates in the past few weeks. 

You brought your legs up on the chair, closer to your chest in order to prevent the cold you were feeling. His eyes followed your movement, tracing every bend and taking into account all of the little gestures you made, including the little hook your fingers made when you were confused.

“Y’know that stupid date your friend set you up with? The IT guy from the US?” Lance probed further, reminding you of an old date which you had successfully forgotten all about. 

“Oh that’s old stuff.” You mumbled, arms wrapping around your knees. 

“Yeah we haven’t really got a chance to sit down and talk for a while.” 

“I guess…” You trailed off, distracted by the surprise you felt by how cold it was and how Lance seemed to just not care for it. 

“So, the date?” 

“Right, yeah no it went fine, but I don’t know he just wasn’t it.” You replied, shrugging and sparing him the details. 

Lance pouted a bit, before adjusting his posture so he was lying down more than sitting up and patting the sheets next to him.

“Come on, you’re clearly freezing.” He noted, steering the conversation to a completely different route. 

You didn’t think much of it, you two would sleep in the same bed plenty of times when you were kids, it wasn’t odd at all. Even now, when Lance would crash at your house he’d sleep in your bed next to you- it wasn’t odd it was just the comfort you two had with each other. So when you crawled under the sheets and scooted closer to Lance, the both of you ignored the way your eyes locked for a moment.

“So, what was wrong with him? What made him not it?” 

Aversion. That’s what one would call it; he averted his eyes and changed the topic, that moment where your eyes locked as you moved closer to him under his sheets in his bed was nothing but a fleeting moment. 

“I don’t know Lance, he just wasn’t my type.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t have a type.” 

“I don’t… it’s just that I guess I hate having to get to know people romantically, it just seems like such a bother. Plus, remember the hell I had to be put through the last time that happened?”

Your ex wasn’t the peachiest person imaginable; he was manipulative and constantly accusing you of having a more complex relationship with Lance than you would admit to. “You two look at each other like nothing else matters, you don’t even look at me like that!”, accompanied often with several “There’s no way you two are just friends!”. His words hadn’t affected the friendship you had with Lance, obviously, but it did put a damper on the amount of time you two would spend with each other. In the end it truly wasn’t worth it considering he cheated on you with his own best friend. 

“God, he was a dick.” Lance mumbled, scooting lower on his bed and completely lying down, bringing the blanket up till his neck.

“Yeah, getting cheated on isn’t fun.” You mumbled, covering your face with the blanket; not because you were ashamed or wanted to hide your face, but because you were cold and your nose felt like it was going to freeze.

“Oh my god, how cold are you?” Lance asked, accompanying you under the blankets, swatting them a bit so the thick material wouldn’t hide your face from him. He reached over to grab your hand, only to let out a small yelp after feeling how cold they were. “Woah, you’re fucking freezing.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I’m this cold.” You replied.

There wasn’t much need to ask or say anything, words weren’t a necessity in communication between you two sometimes. He just knew you well enough to know what you’d need and you knew the same, and so he covered the distance, and wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a warm hug. 

Several moments had passed and though you were still feeling cold, his body heat had managed to warm you up enough for it to not be a problem. As an unspoken token of appreciation, you had begun gently rubbing your fingertips on his scalp, something you knew he liked. 

“Do you remember when we were teens and we’d sneak into each other's rooms like this and watch all the shows we weren’t allowed to watch?” Lance whispered, not needing to talk at a higher volume due to the proximity. 

“We used to sneak into each others’ rooms all the time, remember that annoying nanny our parents would bring along? That old lady who was convinced we were up to no good?” You laughed, remembering how often she’d complain to your parents about your antics and how Lance wasn’t a good influence on a young girl like you.

“Oh God, she was the worst. She used to be on your ass about everything, she always said you weren’t proper enough.” 

“Ooh ooh, remember when we managed to sneak out with Chloe and go to that party with her friends in the summer?” You chimed, remembering something completely off-topic.

“Yeah, that time her friends forced us to kiss in that stupid truth or dare game, I swear I told your dumbass to sit next to me but you just had to sit next to that stupid guy.” Lance scoffed. 

“Oh my God yeah, that was my first kiss.” You replied, recalling how flushed you were and how glad you were now to have that memory be with someone like Lance and not with some weird, much older guy. 

“Wait, really?! I thought that was just something you were messing about!” He pulled away to look at you better. 

“No! Why would I lie about that?!” You asked, pulling away from his chest a little too, craning your neck to look at his face. 

“I…. I don’t know.” Lance replied after thinking for a while, pulling you back into his chest to avoid having to look you in the eye, “I guess I didn’t want to believe that your first kiss was with me.”

“Why not?” You asked, the question laced with confusion and several different emotions you couldn’t identify, “I never told you about my first kiss, I always thought you knew it was you.” 

A silence fell between you two, a sort of uncomfortable silence which made your hand stop stroking his hair, and made his grip on you loosen a bit. The cold hit again and though Lance was still close, it just didn’t seem like enough; for the first time in your life-long friendship you felt like a wedge had made its’ way in a moments’ notice, drawing you two apart. 

You had told him the night it had happened, on the way back to your house, you leaned in and told him that he was your first kiss. It was the earliest stages of his racing career, just a little before he debuted in F4. It was so long ago, you had forgotten about it, it really was just a silly little dare, but now you felt like you’d imposed a boundary you didn’t know existed. 

The silence between you two had lasted longer than either of you would prefer, yet neither of you had mustered the courage to disrupt this silence, hiding behind it from one another like you had never done before. The cold began to make its presence known to you once again, the blanket not providing much comfort any longer.

He had never given it much thought, it really wasn’t a big deal and he wasn’t upset, rather just confused. He had been looking forward to this family vacation more than he usually would, and until he saw and hugged you, he couldn't seem to figure out why. You were his best-friend and as cliche and silly as the title sounded, he couldn’t ever just call you a friend, you were so much more than that, yet whenever anyone called you his sister he’d just end up feeling uncomfortable; he’d never seen you in that light, the thought was just weird. Realizing that he was your first kiss made him feel something he had previously averted from a few moments ago, except now, aversion wasn’t something he could do- it wasn’t something he wanted to do. He understood the reason that he hadn’t consciously accepted the fact that he was your first kiss was because he knew he liked the idea far more than he should have; he liked that he was your first kiss and he liked the idea of having that card over all the other men you had dated, he liked that you two had shared that sentiment, he liked that he was your first and most importantly: he liked the idea of kissing you.  

The situation felt awkward and you mentally decided it would be better off to just go back to your room, and so you did, quietly moving out of his bed and making your way to your own room. You had gone as far as tucking yourself in till your thoughts finally started piling on.

What if I pissed him off? Why did he get so quiet? Did I fuck things over? God, how did I manage to mess up the one friendship I thought would last forever? Why does it matter, we’re just friends and the idea of us kissing shouldn’t ruin a life-long friendship, should it? Unless he has another girlfriend again, God I really don’t want to have to go through that again, Wait, why not? It shouldn’t matter if he dates someone, right? I mean I haven’t been the biggest fan of his exes but who am I to- 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door to your room open, followed by shuffled footsteps and a weight on your bed. You turned to make out what you correctly assumed to be Lance, crawling under the blanket with you. You heard a huff of breath as he got comfortable, wrapping his warm arms around you again and pulling you into him once more.

You were confused momentarily, not having been able to completely exit your mind palace before you had to register all that happened. However, it only took you a few moments to adjust before you hugged him back, adjusting yourself against him slightly before fitting perfectly into his arms. 

“Do you remember how we’d sit under the blanket and cover ourselves completely in our blanket forts to talk in private when we were younger?” Lance asked, his smile almost audible in his words as he recalled the memory, not addressing the conversation earlier.

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “We’d call for ‘blanket meetings’ and all….”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m kind of calling for one right now.” He said, pulling away slightly, preparing to hold the blanket over your heads. 

You didn’t need to say anything, you smiled as you grabbed your phone and sat up, adjusting yourself under the blanket as Lance sat up too, the blanket forming a little tent around you two as his head held it in place. It took a little more shuffling around till you both were completely covered and comfortable and it was then when you pulled out your phone, turning on the flash and placing it in between you two so you could see each other. Having done this your whole lives, you two knew exactly what to do. 

“God, the blankets seemed so much bigger when we were kids.” You laughed. 

“The blankets were always big on you, pipsqueak.” Lance laughed.

“Oh, fuck off.” You laughed, “Alright, so why did you call this meeting?” 

“Oooh, professional.” Lance laughed, locking eyes with you as his laugh faded.

“If it’s about our conversation earlier, then I don’t really wanna talk about that, can we just go back to pretending that that never happened?” You asked, eyes averting his.

“No, we can’t. I don’t want to pretend like that didn’t happen, if anything I’m really glad you had your first kiss with me, I’m a much better option than that creep you thought was cute, if anything I was the best option in that whole party.” Lance spoke, voice hushed to match the vibe.

“I mean yeah… Wait, did you just say you were the best option? You know my ex was there too, right? I mean sure we dated after years but we met for the first time at that stupid party.” You recalled, ready to contradict his statement, unsure of what your argument would be considering your ex was awful.

“Yeah, I stand by what I said.” Lance spoke, a determination present in his voice. “You know how I felt about that loser anyways.” 

“Oh please, you never seemed to like any of the exes I have.” You scoffed.

“Like you like any of mine.” Lance scoffed in return, eyes still looking into yours despite your attempts at looking away. 

“I mean-” You tried to defend yourself when he cut you off.

“Oh come on, you know we don’t like any of each other's exes.” Lance persisted.

“I mean yeah, but I don’t like them because I think you deserve better.” You replied, content with your argument.

There was a moment of silence before Lance spoke and in that moment you watched his face as he thought, the way his brows momentarily furrowed and how his brown doe-eyes looked into yours, not breaking contact and making you more nervous than you had anticipated. 

“Well, I thought the same, y'know, I kept comparing them to me and how I’d treat you so much better than those losers.” 

His statement was calculated, and you could tell. It had completely thrown you off and confused you beyond expression, it left you dumbfounded and staring at him with your mouth open to say words you knew didn’t exist. 

“Come onn, You never thought about it? You’re telling me you didn’t think about the kiss all the time after it happened?” He probed, examining your face for a clearer answer.

To be fair, the second Lance had found out the kiss you shared was your first, a whole barrage of feelings and thoughts had bombarded his mind and he had no idea what to do or say, so when you walked off he barely registered what happened and when he did, he decided to resort to old tactics to talk to you and try to comfort you. Admittedly, Lance knew he should have understood that something was up when he realized that he didn’t hate the dating rumors between you two, nor did he hate the proximity you shared, if anything, Lance looked forward to these holiday retreats with your family because it meant you two could live together for a few days and he loved that- he also loved how close you two were and how in all honesty he truly wouldn’t want to date anyone but you. The realization that he had been comparing all his past relationships with you and why they’d never work out wasn’t something he had expected to come to so abruptly, yet here he was, risking everything for a whim. 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that to be our last kiss.” Lance smiled, hoping that this last statement would break the silent oath you seemed to have taken. 

He leaned in closer, looking at you for a response, which you gave in the form of a small nod, before he gently landed his lips onto yours, holding your face as the blankets around you readjusted to the movement. His hold was gentle, like he was scared he’d hurt you or something, while your lips clumsily, eventually found a rhythm. 

You were bright red when you two pulled away for air. You mentally cursed yourself for turning the flash on. The prospect of you two being more than friends always seemed like a crazy thought, it always felt like something you felt wrong thinking about, like you weren’t allowed or something. But kudos to Lance for somehow always managing to understand what you two needed faster than you, whether it was making road-trip decisions or Tim Hortons’ order decisions, credit where credit was due, that man could read you like a book. And now he had made it apparent that he was capable of reading in between the lines too. You never knew you had wanted Lance more than a friend and now that the option was brought to your notice, you couldn’t, even for a moment, consider giving it up. The kiss hadn’t lasted long, but it had erupted feelings in you that had laid dormant for far too many years, all of which overwhelmed you enough to not think of your decision again before crashing your lips back onto his, this time allowing your hands to find the back of his head to push him into the kiss, which he enthusiastically reciprocated, his hands landing on your waist to pull your whole body closer. Suddenly, air didn’t seem like much of a necessity as the kiss deepened and you two got more comfortable against each others’ lips. It wasn’t till you two pulled away again, locking gazes as your chests heaved against each other, stupid grins adorning both of your faces. 

“Why didn’t we come to this realization earlier?” You asked.

“I don’t know… I’m just glad we came to it, better late than never no?” He laughed.

Now you didn’t feel so guilty admiring the way his face scrunched up when he laughed and how the skin around his nose crinkled and how you could see the slight gap between his side teeth and his front teeth. There was so much about him that you had mentally noted and admired that seeing him this close didn’t even feel like anything new- it was just Lance after all. 

“I still can’t believe I was your first kiss and we still didn’t do anything up till now.” Lance smiled, his lips parting to show his teeth. 

“I mean, I don’t know I didn’t really understand what I was feeling till now I guess.” You mumbled through a smile, lips barely moving to get the words out.

“I know, I think we’re on the same page.” Lance replied, pulling you in for a hug, the blanket finally beginning to feel warm again. 

“I want you to be my last too.” You laughed, wondering if he’d get the reference. 

“Seriously? You’re quoting one direction right now?” Lance asked, exhaling as he felt your body against him, warming him from the cold he hadn’t even realized he was feeling. 

“Always the right time to quote One Direction.” You laughed, knowing you were the reason he’d secretly be listening to them now. 

“That reference barely made any sense y’know, technically they talk about wanting to be the listeners last first kiss, not their first and last kiss.” He corrected you with a cocky grin you could practically hear.

“Anndd you ruined the moment.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

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A/N: I'm so sorry for posting this so late! completely forgot about it, hope you like it nonetheless<3

Also, no I have no shame throwing in a One Direction reference in like that heh

As usual, criticism and requests can all be sent in through the ask box!

#lance stroll fluff #f1 fic #f1 fluff #lance stroll one shot #lance stroll fic #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x reader #f1 blurb #friends to lovers

[ferrstappen]

LONG LIVE l Esteban Ocon

(a/n): omg the first installment of the Taylor Swift Collection. I'll admit this one was a bit of a stretch but I just had this idea and needed to get it out! I hope you enjoy it and would love to have your feedback <3

disclaimer: in this au, the reader plays the role Zendaya plays in the franchise.

summary: Esteban Ocon (aka the biggest Spiderman fan, according to himself) tried to bribe his girlfriend, gave her the silent treatment, he called her out during race weekends, but Marvel was just too good keeping their secrets. (actress!reader).

i) I said “remember this moment” in the back of my mind.

July 2018

When Esteban told his friend Lance that after months of liking every post and Instagram story of the actress playing Michelle Jones on the new Spider Man movies, he slid on her DMs in hopes she would answer, Lance laughed.

No, he didn’t laugh, he cackled.

It was July 2017, the first Spider-Man movie in the hands of Marvel Studios had just dropped and was a complete success, and of course Esteban had his team request a copy to the studios so he could host a viewing on his home theatre. 

He had avoided spoilers and even movie trailers in order to be surprised, most of his friends teased him about it, but he couldn’t careless, even dedicating that entire night to follow and stalk every cast member on Instagram. 

That’s when he noticed the gorgeous actress who played MJ, mysterious and intelligent on screen, and that’s when everything started for him. 

He googled her age, visited her Wikipedia page to see her accolades and projects, he even checked her dating history and the rumors surrounding her relationship with Tom Holland, the actor who played Spider-Man. 

His life went on, months went by where he silently liked her posts, just as another fan of the series and sequels of his favorite superhero, then he was focusing on the 2018 F1 Season, even as things turned ugly with not only having to worry about performing, but also with trying to keep his seat. 

Maybe his Instagram algorithm knew him a little too well when a Marvel fanpage showed on his timeline, announcing filming for the second movie of the Spider-Man sequel was taking place in London and Italy, and between the stress of training, press breathing on his shoulder about his future in Formula 1, he decided to take a risk.

Which takes him to his Canadian friend laughing at him. 

He made his way towards the Williams trailer where Lance was getting ready, not really caring that chances were he was going to take his seat at Racing Point, they were friends. That’s why Lance felt so comfortable staring at his friend in disbelief as he couldn’t stop the giggles that just kept coming. 

“Esteban, why would you subject yourself to being ignored? She’s from Hollywood, there’s no way she even knows who you are.” Lance tried to reason with his French friend, but Esteban shrugged. 

“It doesn’t matter, I know she’s probably not going to see it, but I have nothing to lose. It doesn’t even count as humiliation because we’ll probably never going to meet each other.”

Lance squinted his eyes at his friend. “You can’t have that attitude, dude!”

“But you just laughed on my face!” Esteban argued.

“Yes, because it’s my job as your friend, but at the same time I have to hype you up, you know?” Lance told him, but Esteban suspected he was just being too Canadian. “What did you tell her?”

Esteban sighed and scratched the back of his neck: “If she wanted to attend the British GP since they’re filming there.”

Lance let out a sound of approval. “You know? I think it could work out. Maybe you should find ways to drop how much of a fan of Spider-Man you are during press, you know? Just find a way, and then people will start ‘Oh, this Formula 1 driver is so adorable, he’s such a fanboy’.” The Canadian suggested. 

“How did you even think of that?” Esteban asked, but was interrupted by his iPhone going off, his engineer asking him where he was.

He didn’t get to talk with Lance again, just throwing himself on the hotel bed while his eyes were already closing due to stress and jetlag. Forcing himself off the bed to take a shower and then going to bed, checking his phone for one last time. 

His verified account worked in a weird way he still wasn’t able to fully grasp, only notifying him when other verified accounts messaged him or followed him.

And that’s what happened. 

Hey Esteban! I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to answer but ive been a bit busy. 

Attending Silverstone would actually be such a great time, is the invite still up? 

In case it is, this is my agent’s email so your people can give him the details ;)

The French read and reread the message at least ten times, not knowing if his mind was playing tricks with him, but when he read this notification, he gasped and dialed Lance. 

“LANCE!”

@(YNLN) started following you. 

ii) I was screaming “long live that look on your face”

(Y/N) thinks that Esteban exaggerated how much of a Spider-Man fan he was. They were officially dating now, so she figured it would eventually play down. 

God, was she wrong…

With the 2018 season finally over and Esteban not having a seat for 2019, he leaned heavily on her, even if he knew he was going to be under the wing of Mercedes for the time being, it wasn’t easy. 

She saw he was kind of down and with more free time than usual, plus they were still living the sweet first months of their relationship, so she surprised him with a guest pass and paper bracelet to allow him in the premises and set, leaving in on the table of her apartment while waiting for him to arrive for their movie date.

“Bebé, what is this?” He asked once he stepped inside your apartment, an envelope with his name written and an official Marvel stamp on it. He didn’t know what it was, but a grin was already starting to form. 

“Hello, Este. How are you? Did you miss me? Because I really missed you.” The actress placed her arms around his waist, shaking as his body trembled with a laugh before he leaned down to leave a caste kiss on her lips. 

“Of course I missed you, MJ.” He said and she playfully laughed at his nickname. “So, what is this?” He picked up the envelope. 

“It has your name on it, doesn’t it?” 

Esteban carefully moved from the embrace of his girlfriend and opened his gift, not even trying to hide the gasp that escaped his lips once he realized what was inside, carefully reading the letter inviting him to set, signed by Kevin Feige and Jon Watts, the director. 

“No, bebé… Is this for real?” He said with his accent getting thicker with excitement. 

“I think so.” She smiled before he kissed her, literally sweeping her off her feet. 

He knew he’d have to keep a low profile, the public not knowing yet about their relationship, the only one he had confided in was Lance, and now people in Mercedes knew, so it wouldn’t be long before the cat was out of the bag, but he was waiting for his girlfriend to feel comfortable to break the little comfy bubble they’d created.

They were in Venice when a black Mercedes picked them up at 4 AM, but he didn’t care. The street was closed and cameras were being placed, people walking all around as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and freezing. 

He knew it was cheesy, but the set lit up when she walked in. People greeted her all around, dozens of people and she stopped for each one of them, asking for their families and how was the hotel they were staying at. And the fact that he got to walk hand in hand with her, carefully carrying one of her bags, he was on cloud nine. 

But it got better. 

A British accent called (Y/N)’s name as they were approaching the luxury trailers parked not so far away from the set installed on the Italian streets. Of course Esteban recognized the accent, holding his girlfriend’s hand a little tighter. 

“Tom, this is Esteban, the guy you’ve been hearing so much about.” She said with a playful roll of her eyes, earning a chuckle from the brit as he extended his hand. 

“Pleasure to meet you, mate. I saw you during the Austin circuit, it looked sick!”

“I’m a big fan of your work, you’re the best Spider-Man,” Esteban said and his girlfriend just started to realize that maybe it wasn’t a play, he really was a huge fan. “And you’re always welcome on the paddock, just let me know.” Esteban said and Tom thanked him before being called to his trailer, telling the couple that they should go with the rest of the cast and other friends to have dinner.

“So… You’ve been talking a lot about me?” Esteban asked (Y/N), playfully raising his eyebrows and leaving a kiss on her hair. 

ACTION!

Esteban eyes followed as Peter Parker walked around the wrecked set, everything was wet and upside down, and he was in awe as he noticed (Y/N) making her way into the scene, questioning her friend if he was fine. 

Even if he couldn’t fully comprehend the dialogues or what was happening, his eyes were fixated on her, as she gave his co-star the same caring and sweet eyes that she gave him in real life, and he felt like the luckiest man on earth. 

The day was so great that they ignored the few tabloids that picked up the Instagram post of the Holland siblings, the happy couple, and other members of the cast when they went to dinner to a nice small restaurant. 

“Are Spider-Man star and F1’s star Esteban Ocon dating? We have the details from inside sources!”

 iii) When they gave us our trophies, and we held them up for our town.

Hungaroring, 2021

Every reporter went crazy when they saw (Y/N) driving a Land Rover with Esteban Ocon as her co-pilot, smiles on their faces as they pretended to ignore the hundreds of flashes capturing their faces through the tinted windows. 

They’d been dating for almost two years, but still hadn’t confirmed anything. Of course people knew; everyone involved in F1 and Marvel knew they were official since 2019, and of course their fans were aware they were together after seeing pictures of them together all the time, but no one has managed to capture even the slightest form of PDA between them, which made people still think they were friends… Very close friends. 

But there was something about this weekend that made them act more carefree, holding hands when they got out of the car, not caring if paparazzi got low-quality, grainy photos of the showing the tiniest bit of affection. 

The actress pecked his lips before he went to his driver’s room to get ready, engineers rapidly approaching him to talk a few things over. 

Time flew by and soon she was giving him one last hug and good luck kiss before he got in the car. 

“You know, this is pretty dangerous…” Esteban dramatically said, earning a grin from his girlfriend. 

“Estie, no.”

“But… I’m your boyfriend. You can trust me!” 

“It’s a secret, only a couple more months to go and you’ll watch it. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it more not knowing what’s gonna happen… Plus, I know you’re going to tell Lance whatever I tell you.”

“Is the multiverse theory true?” She was tempted to tell him something, but she always chose against it, having signed too many NDAs.

Just as she was going to answer, Esteban was called to get in the car before the race. 

“I love you, Este. Drive safely, okay?” (Y/N) got on her tiptoes and kissed him softly, like it was just the two of them. 

“Je t’aime beaucoup, bebé.” 

She became accustomed to the roaring of motors, the smell of gasoline and the rush of a pit stop, but that didn’t mean the worried butterflies on her stomach calmed down, she still bit her nails while listening to his radio and watching him overtake his rivals. His parents were the same, eyes not moving from the screen.

But today, it was a different kind of anxiety. She was on the edge of her seat, the fresh coat of nail polish chipped as everyone in the garage started realizing that they were going to win. The first for the team and for Esteban. 

She couldn’t stay seated during the last four laps, completely aware that F1 cameras were paying more attention to the Alpine garage, wanting to get the best reactions, and obviously she was there, but she couldn’t care less. 

It became real during the last lap, mechanics and engineers running to greet their driver on their maiden win.

Esteban parked the car and got out, jumping right into the awaiting arms of everyone involved, his face was one of pure disbelief, his eyes glassy with unshed tears and shaky hands.

She was holding your phone as his mom and dad went to hug him and congratulate him, wanting to immortalize the moment after so many years and sacrifices. Of course she loved his parents, but she wanted the moment to be over to hug him and congratulate him.

And that’s what happened when he noticed her. He noticed that he didn’t really know how to approach her, knowing cameras were filming their every movement and being broadcasted.

That’s why she took the matters in her own hands. Her hand went to cup his face, his arms found their home on her waist as he lifted her and kissed her. It wasn’t a pretty kiss, they were trying to pour every feeling, knowing words wouldn’t do it justice.

“Babe, I’m so proud of you, congratulations. Shit, I don’t even know what to say!” They laughed and went for another short kiss, people around them cheering. 

“You know what a great prize would be?” He asked her, gently placing her back on the ground. 

“Not a chance, Estie.”

(YNLN) just posted.

(YNLN): GP winner/king of my heart/love of my life @estebanocon

iv) Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you. 

Sadly, Esteban wasn’t afraid to admit he pleaded his girlfriend to show him the new Spider-Man script. He tried to bribe her with silly gifts, gave her the silent treatment. His last resort was to call her out during race weekends. 

“Esteban, we are living the last races of the 2021 season and you seem alone, did you girlfriend leave you for Peter Parker yet?” The interviewer asked him laughing, making Esteban smile. 

“Yes, she is in the middle of her press tour for the latest movie.”

“I don’t remember many movies creating this level of hype and mystery, do you have any inside details?”

“Don’t even get me started,” Esteban answered, his accent getting thicker. “I don’t know anything, she has kept everything a secret. I’ve pleaded, I even spoke with her co-stars and they told me (Y/N) warned them to not tell me anything! Not even after I offered full-access paddock passes!” Esteban was  shooting his last shot to get any information, even if it meant exposing his girlfriend. 

“Interesting, Marvel is that good keeping secrets, huh? We hope to see you on the red carpet. Good luck on the race! Esteban Ocon, everybody!” 

“You are shameless!” That was the first thing Esteban heard after he picked up the FaceTime call from his girlfriend. 

“Oh, you saw it?” He asked her nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“You just have to hang on a couple of weeks and you’ll see it. Babe, I have to be back with the interviews soon, but I was told you can bring a plus one to the premier.”

“Am I not your plus one?” Esteban asked confused. 

“Nah, people like you too much now. We can walk the red carpet together, though!”

Esteban smiled at the sight of her perfectly dressed girlfriend. “No, it’s your moment, wouldn’t want to steal it with my perfect height and handsome looks.” He joked, earning a loud laugh from her, his favorite sound. 

She was right, time flew by. Now Esteban was admiring as people worked on her dress and makeup. Someone was fixing his hair for one last time before they left the fancy hotel room. 

Paparazzi were already lining up outside the hotel, waiting for them. They smiled before the valet got the car. She gave him a weird look, seeing a sports car, very similar to his Alpine car, with no one inside. 

“You didn’t think I was going to let someone else drive you, right?” He offered his arm and opened the door for her, helping her with the dress and leaving a kiss on her hand before walking towards the pilot seat. 

She couldn’t stop smiling, resting her hand on Esteban’s thigh during the short ride as he expertly drove, eyes not leaving the road to interlace their fingers. 

“Chérie… You have one last chance.”

“Esteban!” She stared at him in disbelief. 

“Can’t blame a fan for trying.”

Esteban would never tell her, but it was completely worth it in the end. His eyes couldn’t leave the screen for a second, too enthralled by the story being played in front of him, not even noticing the nervous eyes of his girlfriend, she wanted him to enjoy it because, as she found out during the time loving him, he was not exaggerating how much of a fan he was.

She noticed how he didn’t even try to hide the tears and the gasps during the movie, he probably didn’t notice how his grip on her hand got tighter every time a twist happened. Tears were falling freely as he watched his girlfriend on screen, playing what he thought was the saddest scene on modern cinema. 

He was the first one on his feet to start the stand-up ovation in the movie theatre. He didn’t care about anything when the lights were turned on, his only worry being softly kissing her lips while people around them were still cheering. 

“Shit, I still can’t believe he pulled it off…” 

That was Lance, shaking his head and taking a picture with his iPhone to show it at their wedding, knowing that Esteban and (YN) were endgame, even if he made fun of Esteban.

#esteban ocon imagine #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon one shot #esteban ocon au #esteban ocon fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[satoruluvies]

Instagram famous! choso would def set up polls askin his fans if he human or not

Instagram famous! choso would def get cancel for fightin in his comments section

Instagram famous! choso prob stalk people pages and when he gets caught he blocks

Instagram famous! choso who hints about y\n in his captions

(im in love with him tryn act normal cause he a goofy guy)

-🐱 anon

pls this so cute omg???

i feel like he got famous for being everyone's favourite emo boy. he never intended to but the internet could not resist hyping up a grim expressionless handsome af guy but he's a whole sweetheart???? he'd probably be inactive after he blew up over a pic or a reel which you filmed.

with your urging though, he'd begin to post more and establish a whole ass loyal fandom. he'd get so so many questions about his dating life and what his type is but you'd tell him people love to ruin things so he keeps that part of his life a secret only the two of you (and some) share. that doesn't stop him from leaving clues and hints that he isn't up for grabs though. subtle captions and blurry pics of your back would hint that this man has his heart set on someone already.

you'd help him with the newest trends and templates to boost his algorithm. all the free products and services he receives would be enjoyed by the both of you too! of course, the fame never gets to either of your heads because you both know where your priorities lie.

eventually, a soft launch of your hand with a ring adjourning your ring finger would find itself on his insta story with the caption "the brightest star in the night sky."

#😺 anon #this turned into a whole ass drabble #might as well #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso kamo #choso x you #jjk drabbles #choso fluff #jjk fluff #cathyaps

[spanishskulduggery]

I don't understand why I struggle with this hard.

I want to be involved with the Spanish-speaking world online. I don't even know where to start. The best I've got right now is that sometimes I happen upon another Spanish-speaking individual on tumblr and I just follow them and read everything they post in Spanish.

But sometimes they use English primarily. So it kind of defeats the purpose and makes the Spanish posts harder to find.

Idk I think I'm going about this the wrong way but I genuinely don't know how else to do this. It feels to me as if the entire Spanish-speaking world uses some secret social media that no one else knows about. And I would say I'm on the outside looking in, but I can't even find them.

If this makes sense.

Thanks in advance i love you

No, it's that many Spanish-speakers use or learn English on social media because it tends to get the most interaction

Especially for artists or in fandoms, English tends to dominate a lot of them - which in a way makes some sense if the fandoms came from English-speaking media or Hollywood things, but I know what you mean it can be frustrating trying to find people to interact/practice with that way

You usually have to find Twitter or Spanish-speaking groups like sometimes on Facebook or Spanish-speaking Discords. This is if you want something more like conversations or posts. Spanish-speaking Instagram and Tiktok are easier to find if you start liking things in Spanish, the algorithm will start sending you things like that - but you become more of a commenter relation to the creator, rather than finding people to actually talk to; it's sort of like Youtube in that way

...

If you're looking for specifically Spanish-speaking things you would have the most luck on forums or Spanish Facebook pages, or finding a Spanish-speaker on Tumblr/Twitter and talking to them in Spanish or commenting in Spanish

Otherwise, I'd say maybe WordReference but that's more of a grammar/vocabulary-related thing - they do have people responding to questions or topics in Spanish and some Spanish forums there where Spanish speakers from all over talk

If you're more advanced, you can wade into the WordReference forums where Spanish-speakers will ask about English phrases or how best to translate certain idioms... I've found that to be the place for learning specifically

#asks #followers?

[theblackfemininesociety]

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[correlatedcontents]

No one I follow ever talks about it so I don't know if it's common but I really like how absolutely fucked the For You Page is on here. I looked at it for the first time a few months ago and was perplexed by the frequency with which it was recommending me really long textposts in Polish, which has since stopped but also occasionally reoccurs for reasons I can't quite pin down. This unfortunately triggered my Algorithm Madness and I've been doing investigations ever since. I quickly noticed it's constantly and almost exclusively recommending I follow blogs I am already following, because it just seems to recommend whoever you've most recently interacted with? And more recently I've been utterly charmed by the fact it seems to assume I'm part of whatever subcommunity I've most recently glanced by—"Oh, you reblogged a joke that happened to be written by a transmasc user? Well obviously you must want 90% more transmasc discourse on the FYP" and so on. Do I follow a secret Polish lurker? Is that what started all this? Anyway, the most current development is, I think my experiments in prodding the algorithm to see what it does are pissing off the app somehow because it will simply remove my FYP for days at a time. When I was playing with the algo on Instagram it eventually started showing me various ads that all featured men getting their heads shaved and I think this website could surpass that if it tried

[anongalactic]

google, show me thy minstrels balls

secret santa gift for my dear friend @aceclown that i never posted because i didnt wanna deal with instagrams gross nasty algorithms and tags and shit

#dgs #the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #ace attorney #ace attorney chronicles #william petenshy #william shamspeare #goofus supreme

[jusiri]

Every now and again i have to remind myself that Tumblr hasnt actually made any particularly egregious changes to anything, its mostly cosmetic, and this is just the "i hate any changes" website

Like i dont like the layout change, or the permanent tumblr live button, but those are pretty damn minor

Meanwhile over on Instagram they took away dashboard being only the people you follow ages ago, its like a 90/10 ratio of suggestions to stuff you want

Theyre constantly changing buttons and layouts, the algorithm is some secret thing they don't want anyone to know about, and it changes every other day

Fyp is half videos, with no option for them not to autoplay anymore

Bot problems all over the place, filled with scam accounts and bigots

One of their more recent changes was to take away the option to sort tags by most recent

you can either see Top Posts or Recent Top Posts, and thats it, if your post doesn't get big, youre shit outta luck

Trying to curate your feed and interactions is next to impossible, you can like 1000 pictures in a tag you enjoy and get nothing, but watch 1 second of some shit you don't care about and its all youll get recommended, its a nightmare

And then Twitter is...... Twitter

I dont even know what's happening on tiktok, last i heard they were determining whether you were abusive or not based on eye tilt

Tumblr might be glitchy and broken, and a little pushy at times, but its 1000x more chill than anywhere else at the moment

Staff actually tells you things, i cannot stress enough how much communication we actually get with staff, other places staff consists of a bunch of cryptic people who dont wanna say anything to you ever and/or Elon Musk

If nothing else be deeply deeply grateful we do not have Elon Musk

Thats in and of itself is a true blessing

#and i know theres hundreds of all these other smaller social media places but lets be real #theyre either broken‚ awful‚ or both #99% of these things arent going anywhere #oh Threads exists too #forgot all about Instagram's NotTwitter #its awful never make one you cannot delete it #i dont have one but they really want you to have one #anyway i don't really have a point to all this

[oggysonart]

PSA real quick: Don’t buy art advice

I’m not talking about art tutorials or like supporting a tier on someone’s patreon to get feedback or stuff like that, that’s a different thing. This is also not about going to art school.

What I am talking about is stuff like online courses and books that people sell on topics like secrets to growing your art instagram, making loads of passive money off your work, stuff like that. It’s fake.

I’ve seen a disturbing amount of them appear which is why I’m making this PSA. There is no secret to growing your art instagram or making passive money off your art or kickstarting your freelance carreer. If the tips are legit, it’s out there for free if you look for it. We are already talking about it because we’re already doing it. People making these courses and selling these books are only sharing stuff you can already google yourself. These people are rarely making their livings as artists themselves, instead they’re just doing the art world version of get rich quick schemes, they’re praying on your passions and selling you advice that is either already publicly available, unhelpful or even just false.

I’ll give you some advice for free, kay?

Improving your art:

First and foremost working on improving your art should always be priority and you can find tutorials on any subject matter for free pretty much anywhere if you just google stuff like “how to draw a cloud”. Your art is what people will want to buy/see so keep improving it and keep making it if your goals is to build a carreer or an audience, there is no way around it.

Growing your audience

Straight up just engage with whichever app/site you’re using. Post good art yourself, but be a cheerleader for others first and foremost. Post consistently, not constantly, use appropriate tags, talk about your work in your descriptions and engage with people who engage with you. That stuff is in your control, the rest is honestly just luck. For some people it takes a long time, for others it’s a faster progress, there is no secret here, no one knows how to please the algorithm, we’re all just throwing crumbs out and hoping it gets eaten. Bots and promo bots will do more harm than good and spamming other people’s accounts asking them to check you out or tagging someone in your art that’s completely unrelated to them is just annoying. Just chill and post your art and have fun. Remember that social media should ‘t be a popularity contest, it should be social.

Making money

There are so many ways! I don’t even know half the ways and it depends what you want to achieve really. You can make money selling commissions, you can try to get a job at some sort of company, at which there are many who’d want to employ artists, games, films, animation, marketing, marketing departments in companies that otherwise do completely unrelated stuff, I’ve heard of an artist working fulltime at a science lab. There is room for you, you just need to find your industry. You can also license your work which is where the passive income comes in and there are a bunch of ways to do this too google it. You can be an illustrator for books or magazines, you can be a cartoonist for a paper, you can do logos or t-shirt designs and you can work freelance as pretty much whatever you want. It’s not going to be easy finding these jobs and most people do several jobs at once. It takes time to build up clientell and find your opportunities but a good place to start is straight up just googling “how to license my art” or “how to become a concept artist” or just straight up “how to make money as an artist.” It’s all out here.

I don’t have all the answers at hand and I’m too busy looking for all the resources for you. I bet other people will happily provide links and stuff, so feel free to share resources! My point id just this:

Everything is out there for free, google it.

#art #art industry #art advice #how to art #art tutorial #artist #work as an artist #make money as an artist #freelancing

[erika-xero]

Thinking a lot of how social media affect art, how it is getting increasingly more difficult to earn money with it and honestly it just... makes me so sad?.. Disclaimer: I do not want you to pity me. I just want to share some thoughts. Some fears, maybe. Some regrets.

I know that I might never be able to make a good fortune by drawing illustrations, because it seems that I was entirely wrong with my priorities? I always wanted to do more: bigger pieces, more characters and hidden details. I wanted my art to tell a story, if possible.

Who could possible know that most of the people will move to mobile devices with small vertical screens, on which wide detailed illustrations with cinematic feel will look the worst?

Who could possible know that the algorythms of the social media would want you to draw MORE yet, somehow, draw less? I could go insane doing the same stuff over and over again: small portraits, halfbodies in the same simplistic style because they look best in instagram or on tumblr mobile app and gather more attention? And they are also faster to make, thus you can please the allmightly algorythm posting every day or two?..

I love my work, I adore doing various things, I love it when one week I work on a traditional art fullbody with a golden halo and the other three weeks - on a digital artwork with a dynamic fighting scene. But gods. How tiring is it to know that the piece you've been working on will get barely any attention, because three-weeks gap in my posting schedule will, for sure, upset the allmighty algorithm.

They say that it is always bad to switch style or a theme, because people get upset and unfollow you once they see something they aren't waiting to see. Different character body type? Unfollowing. Different facial feature? Unfollowing. Different aesthetic? Unfollowing.

Slightly different shading and coloring? Unfollowing.

But variety has key importance to me. I wish to draw characters which are drastically different from each other. I want to experiment. I want to explore. I want a drawing to be a puzzle I will be solving for hours, days, weeks, never getting bored. I do not wish my work to become a rutine to serve the algorithm or even the general public.

I see, like, those commercially succesfull artists, who post every day earning more money per week than I will be ever earning per month. It is all the same story over and over again: conventionally attractive characters. Halfbodies. Pleasant facial expressions: faint smiles, slightly raised eyebrows. Simple pose, 3/4, detailed clothing. Always the same stylistic choises. Always the same aesthetic.

Of course, sometimes they do draw stronger, bigger pieces, they experiment, they search for something new - but mostly secretely. In private. During the free time they earn - by their hard work and dedication.

I... can not afford drawing stuff for myself in my free time. Honestly, I don't have free time either than the time I spend on my trips to hometown - the only moments I could spend with my family. Neither can I draw five similar pieces in a row, because my brain starts to melt like a strawberry sundae?.. Because when I get bored, I lose concentration? Because, I made variety the key feature of my art and this turned out to be the worst decision an artist can make?

Am I just... weak? Am I stupid? Am I unworthy? Am I childish for wanting my job to be fun and entertaining and fulfilling to do?

There's this group chat I am in, and today someone, the succesful artist, said that anyone, who has less than 10K followers are, to say so, a no one? All of a sudden I feel so upset. My day is ruined. I never had 10K anywhere but VK (which is absolutely useless to anyone doing commissions). I never even cared about numbers... I never wanted to be big. Be popular. For most of the time, my biggest wish was to feel... fulfilled? To be happy, be proud of what I am doing?

I feel fulfilled. But I also don't want to starve myself to death. And I certainly feel like if I, one day, will want to have family, I wouldn't be able to make enough money to afford having a child.

Was I... entirely wrong? Did I waste my time chasing phantoms? Is it too late for me? Will I be among those, who might not survive the hard times, at least, as an artist?

#rant #i am at my fucking limit #depressing shit #this user has a fucking midlife crisis or something

[pyralart]

Beginning to see AI imaging being posted on Tumblr and NOT tagged as AI and instead as like "watercolor illustrations" or "digital art" or even "photography", and it's pretty obvious that people in the notes don't realize it's AI and I'm starting to lose my fucking mind.

As an advice to recognize them: Those pics always are too overly detailed in a weird way because the AI has to fill up those pixels. You can often not really even tell what's going on. They have some kinda cool *aesthetic* going on at times, but if you try to actually look at it, you'll see it's completely wonky. It's literally just "vibes". Trying to put some logic into the pictures makes it fall completely apart.

Usually composition and perspective are shit too, and you'll mostly see landscapes because you will scream if you ever stumble upon an AI-generated hand.

And of course people doing that call themselves "Generative artists" on Instagram and get 60k followers because since it's just typing some words in to get pics, they can literally have a 50 pics backlog and post 2 a day, because that's all the algorithm asks for, right?

Going fucking insane. I don't wanna look at some trash that a computer spit out using millions of artworks taken without consent and then recycled. At least if they correctly tagged this shit we could make fun of it.

I look at art to wonder how much time and love and skill and passion someone put into it, sometimes despite their own condition. I look at art to be inspired at how people just so carefully handcrafted something out of their own mind. I don't look at art to wonder what words someone put into a computer. You can't even control it, it's literally a gacha game. It isn't art, it's AI imaging.

It literally puts out recognizable signatures and shutterstock watermarks and then they pretend that it's not using stolen art?? My dude the #1 advice they give people to make "good" AI prompts is using an artist's name! How do you think the AI knows about this artist?? It's in the fucken database, Jessie!! They put everyone's art in a DATABASE to use it for profit, JESSIE!! (Yes, AI programs require subscriptions and "give you the commercial rights" of the pics. Right now you can literally ask the AI "Cool landscape by -Artist-" and then sell the picture. You can even ask for actual people's faces if you'd like! And if you use an open source one, it can make realistic [redacted]! Such fun/s)

They use "trending on ArtStation" as a keyword for their AI prompt for fuck's sake. Everyone's art and photos and everything is neatly labeled in a giant fucken database and the artists were never asked if they could... You know... Maybe not have their art in a giant database used to copy them?

The best part of this is that they already made a marketplace to sell prompts. They sell "secret words" I'm not even kidding.

Do I have to pretend it's normal or am I allowed to lose my mind, because I can't pretend for much longer. The more I learn about it the more insane I get about how little respect some people have for artists.

#pyrambles #not even tagging this #i'm sick and tired of this shit #Hope it dies like NFTs