verspia

Latest Posts by verspia

In Gaza, journalists are passing out from exhaustion and famine. Despite the ICJ ruling, the US and Australia are intentionally defunding UNWRA based on baseless claims by Israel that members of the aid group are Hamas-sympathizers. Netanyahu, of course, has ignored the ICJ ruling. Israel has banned insulin pens from arriving in Gaza, a particularly cruel and inhumane crime to add to their laundry list of offences. Nothing has changed, and things are getting worse.

It is not that hard to not buy things. To not watch things. Perhaps it is inconvenient, and makes you go out of your way, and costs a little more to buy alternatives. But if you were to attend a funeral a day for every child that has died in Gaza so far, it would take you over 27 years. When the worst that will happen to you is that you don't watch a TV show featuring a zionist, you don't buy a specific brand that donates to and supports zionism, how could that possibly compare to the plight of Palestinians who must amputate limbs without anesthesia?

Once again, this is the BDS list of brands to boycott.

Here is a comprehensive post about more actions you can take in support of Palestine.

Here is a list of verifiable orgs that provide aid on the ground.

credible organisations that are doing work on the ground in Palestine:

Care for Gaza:non-profit charity that distributes money, food and other resources directly to families in Gaza.They maintain a regular presence on Twitter and Instagram. You can donate to them via Paypal here.

PCRF / Palestine Children's Relief Fund: non-profit organisation that distributes essential food and resources to families in Gaza. Most recently, they delivered 30 tons of vital medicine, and 82,000 pounds of flour.

Medical Aid For Palestinians: deploys medical teams to treat Palestinians suffering under Israel's malicious bombardments.

Donate e-sims to Palestine: massive post with tutorials and relevant links, with discount codes included in the post and in the replies.

Direct Aid: humanitarian fund distributing supplies such as blankets and winter jackets directly to Palestinian families.

help people leave palestine (donate what you can)

Help a Family Evacuate Gaza (GoGetFunding)

Save Sanaa and her Family (Gofundme)

Save Amjad Saher and his family (Gofundme)

Help a family of 13 escape Gaza (Gofundme)

Help a Palestinian children's book illustrator save her family of 12 (Gofundme)

Today, tomorrow and until Israel faces justice for their crimes, learn how to prioritise Palestine over your own comfort.

Maxy ❤️

“Try and force him to fuck up his breaks” - Landos engineer

“"with max it's crash or don't pass" - Lando

Rotten team with a rotten driver who simply pretends to be Max’s mate to make himself look better

THATS FAMILY 😭😭❤️

Red Bull’s car isn’t built for Max Verstappen—it’s built for pure aerodynamic efficiency. It’s a wind-tunnel-perfect machine, designed with a razor-sharp front end and optimized by the team’s aerodynamicists (formerly Adrian Newey, for example) to maximize performance and tire management.

The difference with Max is that he adapts better than anyone to a car in its purest, fastest form. While most drivers require adjustments—less aggressive front-end response, softer rear stability, or reduced tire wear—Max thrives with minimal changes. The car that is theoretically fastest in the wind tunnel? He can drive that as is.

That’s why the idea that Red Bull “designs the car around Max” is misleading. Every team develops cars suited to their drivers, but Verstappen simply demands less compromise. When Alex Albon said, “The car is what it is,” this is what he meant. The Red Bull is not built for Max—it just so happens that Max is the one who can extract its full potential without needing it tamed.

LOOOOL Max got a 20 SECOND penalty and people are still complaining because he 'didn't get penalty points'

Max is really the most hated driver out there isn't he?😂😂😂

beautiful performance

IL DIECI 🤍🖤

helloo guys i’ll start writing soon , im just really busy with university right now!! tysm i’ll get to your requests soon

I unironically want the old Victoria Secret Fashion Show back and I’m not even going to hide behind “it’s a joke”. Bring back the women who look unattainably beautiful so I can be in awe and totally jealous for an hour. I don’t need to see people who “look like me” on a runway we got people like me at home I’m here for a good time

it should be illegal to look this good

Watch out when reposting the Gaza go fund me. It’s a scam, the page literally says the person running the account is in Texas. Don’t want anyone wasting their hard earned money!!!

omg guys be careful!!!

🤍🖤

🤫

Yildiz

FORZA JUVEEE 🤍🖤

KENAN YILDIZ SCORES IN HIS FIRST GAME OF HIS UCL DEBUT OMGGG

Hello !!🍉🍉

I am Ahmed from Gaza. I used to have a pharmacy in the north of the Strip, but unfortunately, I lost it due to the bombing. Under difficult circumstances, I had to move with my family from the north to the south, and we settled in Deir al-Balah.

Despite the challenges, I tried to rebuild my life, so I opened a simple pharmacy in a tent. This pharmacy contains some basic medicines, but it is far from meeting the needs of the people here.

I am now in dire need of support to secure my needs and the needs of my children. My first goal is to raise $1,000 to continue providing health services in these difficult circumstances.

I hope that everyone will donate and contribute to supporting this humanitarian project. Every support, no matter how small, will have a great impact in improving the lives of my family and providing health care to the community here.

You can donate through this link 🇵🇸🇵🇸: https://gofund.me/2a408c6f

Thank you very much🙏🏻❤️❤️

check this out!! ❤️‍🩹

Dear Friends,

I write to you with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. After 188 days of displacement, constant fear, and struggling to survive, we managed to escape with our lives and reach Egypt. But the pain didn’t stop there. Just yesterday, we lost my children's grandfather 💔, not due to direct war, but because of malnutrition and the lack of basic life necessities. We couldn’t save him, just as we couldn’t save our home or our dreams.

The rest of my family is still trapped in the war, suffering the same harsh conditions that led to the passing of my children's grandfather. We are here trying to build a new life, but we have lost everything. We lost our home, and my children were deprived of their schools and universities. Even my eldest son, who worked so hard to build his future, lost his job and saw his dreams shattered.😔

We are now in desperate need of your help. We seek to secure a safe home that will provide us and our children with basic needs. Life in Egypt is extremely difficult, and prices are soaring beyond our reach. All we ask for is a chance to rebuild our lives and secure a better future for our children.🙏🏼

From the depths of my heart, I ask you to stand by us in these difficult times. Your support means hope and life to us.🙌🏼🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/59e9578a

Hi guys pls help out

I love Arken so bad I’m afraid they became my personality

could you do arda and rodrygo’s younger sister? with like lots of fluff and sweet stuff, sorry if this is super broad 😓

INTO YOU • ARDA GÜLER

( pairing ) arda güler x reader

this was so fun to write i hope u guys like it!

The stadium is still buzzing with excitement, the roar of the crowd echoing in your ears as you weave through the sea of fans. Tonight’s match had been exhilarating—one of those nail-biting games that leaves everyone on the edge of their seats. Real Madrid won, of course, with Rodrygo playing a crucial role in the success of tonight’s match.

You’re so incredibly proud of your brother, seeing him flourish in the sport that he’s dreamed of ever since he was a child. Football runs in his veins in a way you’ll never understand, but you can’t help but reminisce your childhood when he would bounce around with a ball and force you to play with him, teaching you little tricks and while you were never anywhere as close to the level that he is, you enjoyed the moments that you and your brother had, especially now that with his career taking off, they’ve become rare.

You’ve not been to many of his games, but there’s always something special about seeing your brother perform with that kind of magic on the pitch.

You’re here to congratulate him, to give him a hug and tell him how proud you are. It’s something you’ve done ever since he was a little boy playing in youth leagues back in Brazil, back when you’d both race to the car after every match, breathless and laughing, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Back when both of you weren’t too busy with your own jobs taking up all your time, when childhood innocence still lingered about. Those were the days when he was just a kid with a dream—before he became the star he is today.

As you squeeze through the crowd of excited fans crowding the exits, you make your way toward the players. Your heart thrums in your chest, the jubilation of the rest of the stadium is so pragmatic, that you yourself feel euphoric, your face flushed as if you’re the one who’s just run around the field for ninety minutes.

There’s a feeling of anticipation that’s bubbling under your skin, and you can feel yourself vibrating under the excitement of it all, and perhaps you’re so distracted by the air of triumph that envelops the whole stadium that you’re blind to the presence of someone else, accidentally knocking into someone and almost stumbling face first into the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” a voice says quickly, concerned.

You turn to see a young man standing there, his hair damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed from exertion. You recognize him immediately—Arda Güler, your brother’s teammate, and one of the club's rising stars. You’ve seen him play countless times, but you’ve never actually met him face-to-face.

“It’s okay,” you say, smiling a little. “I was in the way.”

Arda looks flustered a little, his already red cheeks flaming further and his mouth drops open a little, an exhale escaping his mouth, as if someone has punched him in the stomach, only his eyes seem far too delighted for that, wide with glee and something more that you can’t understand. It confuses you, why he seems to look as if he’s seen heaven on earth, but then you realise that perhaps the victory of today is only just dawning on him, maybe he’s the type to grapple with disbelief a little before truly feeling the ebullience of the night.

“You’re Rodrygo’s sister, right?” he asks suddenly, a slight smile forming on his lips. “Y/N?”

You nod, surprised that he knows your name. You’re never around enough to have been formally introduced to any of your brother’s teammates, and you doubt he’s the type to blabber on about you to any of them, but perhaps you’re wrong.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Your voice comes out a little breathlessly, “and you must be Arda, congratulations on tonight!”

He grins, his eyes lighting up. “Thanks. Yeah that’s me?” He scratches the back of his neck, and you seem a little thrown off again, maybe he’s still struggling with the language barriers, so you brush off his words.

He looks around, as if searching for someone, then back at you. “Waiting for Rodrygo?”

You nod again, glancing toward the door where players are still coming out. “Yeah, I came to congratulate him on the win, i can’t find him anywhere,” You gesture around, “have you seen him?”

Arda chuckles. “He’s probably around somewhere with the rest of the team, dancing with Vini maybe?”

You laugh at that, knowing exactly what he means. “That sounds just like him.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and you notice that Arda seems a bit unsure, like he’s debating whether to say something more. He finally speaks, his voice softer. “You don’t come to a lot of our matches, right? I don’t see you with the rest of Rodrygo’s family”

“Yeah,” you reply, feeling a little flustered under his gaze. “I try to come whenever I can though, I love watching you guys play. You have such a good team.”

He looks genuinely pleased at your words, and his smile grows. “Thanks. It’s always nice to see you around”

His words make you pause, maybe you misheard him, nonetheless you find your cheeks growing hot. Before you can respond, Rodrygo finally emerges from the locker room, his face breaking into a wide grin when he sees you. “Y/N!” he calls out, jogging over and pulling you into a quick, sweaty hug. “Did you see that goal? Pretty good, right?”

You laugh, pushing him back playfully. “Amazing, as always. But you’re going to stink up my clothes if you keep hugging me like this.”

He grins, then notices Arda standing beside you, watching the exchange with an amused smile. “Oh, hey, Arda! Didn’t expect to see you out here. Thanks for helping set up that goal tonight, by the way.”

Arda nods. “No problem, man. Great finish.”

You’re still standing there, feeling a little out of place but also strangely comfortable. There’s something about Arda that’s easy and natural, like you’ve known him longer than just the few minutes you’ve been talking.

Rodrygo, always the social one, looks between you and Arda, raising an eyebrow. “You two met already?”

You smile. “Sort of. We bumped into each other.”

Rodrygo laughs, clapping Arda on the back. “Well, Arda’s a good guy, Y/N. One of the best. If I had to trust someone to look after you around here, he’d be the guy.”

Arda blushes a little at that, and you feel your cheeks grow warm too, again, but you quickly cover it with a smile. “I’m sure he is.” Something about both of their behaviours is a little odd, like they’re in on a secret that you’re not aware of.

There’s another pause, and for a moment, you think about saying goodbye, but Arda speaks up first. “Hey, if you’re not rushing off, would you like to grab a coffee or something? There’s a great café just around the corner. I mean… if Rodrygo doesn’t mind,” he adds quickly, shooting your brother a glance.

Rodrygo looks between the two of you, a grin spreading on his face. His eyes glint mischievously at you and the look he and Arda share makes you feel that they’ve talked about you before. “Oh, I don’t mind at all. Go ahead, have fun. I’m going to catch up with a few guys from the team.”

You feel a flutter in your stomach—unexpected but not unwelcome. “Sure,” you reply, looking at Arda with a smile. “Coffee sounds nice.”

He smiles back, his eyes bright, and offers his arm. “Great. Let’s go.”

As you walk toward the café, the stadium lights gradually fading behind you, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest. The streets are alive with people celebrating the win, and you can’t help but feel that you’re part of something special tonight.

Arda seems a little more relaxed now, a bit more confident as he leads the way. “So, do you live here in Madrid, or are you just visiting?” he asks, genuinely interested.

“I’m just visiting,” you reply. “I come whenever I can to see Rodrygo. I live in Lisbon right now, but I travel a lot for work.”

“What do you do?” he asks, holding the café door open for you.

“I’m an art curator,” you say, smiling as you step inside. “I organize exhibitions, work with galleries… that sort of thing.”

He looks impressed. “That’s really cool. So you must love creativity—just in a different field than Rodrygo and me.”

You chuckle a little. “Exactly. I think maybe that’s why I enjoy watching you guys play so much.” Your eyes gleam a little as you subconsciously lean closer to him, “There’s an artistry to it, a rhythm and creativity that’s kind of like painting or, kind of like- you know curating an exhibition?”

His eyes light up at your words, and he too, leans closer, as it to hear you better, even though you aren’t whispering. “I’ve never thought about it that way, but it makes sense. I guess we’re all trying to create something beautiful, in our own way.”

You both order your coffees, and as you sit down by the window, you find that the conversation flows effortlessly. He tells you about his journey from Turkey, the challenges of adapting to another language, atmosphere and culture entirely, the excitement of playing at such a high level, his dreams for the future. He even voices out his disappointment that playing in a club like real madrid with so many great players, while it has helped him, often creates doubt in himself. Especially when he’s not the one that’s brought out on the field. Your heart cracks a little at his words, and you can’t help but empathize with him, the fact that there are people who give up so much of their life, childhood and leave behind their families for this sport, it’s a double edged sword. Nonetheless, Arda makes his appreciation transparent at your obvious concern.

You find yourself captivated by his stories, by the passion in his voice and the way his eyes light up when he talks about the game.

And you talk about your work, your love for art, the joy of discovering new talent and bringing it to the world. He listens attentively, asking questions that make you feel like he really cares, like he genuinely wants to know you.

By the time you finish your coffee, it feels like hours have passed, yet it’s only been a short while. You realize you don’t want the evening to end, and judging by the way he keeps looking at you, neither does he.

As you leave the café, walking back toward the stadium, Arda turns to you with a hopeful smile. “This was… really nice. I’m glad we ran into each other.”

You smile back, your heart fluttering in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. “Me too, Arda.”

And as you say goodbye, you know that this is just the beginning of something unexpected, something wonderful—something you never saw coming but are more than ready to explore.

fin.

i need him to bring back this hairstyle

Hello

hope that you are well

Please help us,May God bless you 🙏

I'm Etaf from Gaza Palestine

I am a mother of five smart children.

speaking to you with a heavy heart on behalf of my family who urgently need help.

The war has destroyed everything we own.

It destroyed everything my husband and I built for these children.

Now we don't have anything, We do not have the price of rent, or education. We want you to contribute to open a project for my husband, please.

read and Share the link Private in my campaign

,My campaign has been verifiedBy Operation Olive Branch . 🌿

donate, not hesitate to do so and rest assured that God will reward you because we are in dire need of that. And share the link on social media that would be kind of you. May Allah make you happy all your life dear Thank you. 🙏

Hi guys! check this out 🤍🤍

hii i’ve been offline for a while

so proud and happy that arda is nominated for the kopa trophy 🤍🤍🤍

Hi!! I would like to request a Kenan × jealous reader. The story can be however you like with whatever genre as long as they have a happy ending <333

THE BOY IS MINE • KENAN YILDIZ

( pairing ) kenan yıldız x reader

i’m so sorry i’ve been pretty inactive recently but college has been rlly busy atm! i’ll get to all your requests and write them as soon as i can!

this is literally the perfect request because i’ve been listening to the boy is mine nonstop and it fits the vibe yk?

If there’s one thing about you that’s commonly broadcast, it’s that you are the jealous type. Not jealous in the sense that you envy what others have, but rather it drives you up the wall when something that is yours is toyed with by another person.

The more accurate term would be possessive, and there’s no denying that you tend to get… territorial when it comes to Kenan.

Truly you can’t be faulted for your avaricious behaviour because Kenan is the sort of individual that can’t help but draw everyone’s eyes to him, and along with it, the desire of a plethora of girls.

It fuels you with an ugly sort of pride that you have what other girls can only dream off, a sharp glint of emotion that is slightly cruel and substantially domineering.

Another part of you feels enraged at the thought of anyone else besides you thinking of Kenan in ways that only you, in your opinion, should be capable of.

It’s not that you aren’t secure in your relationship, rather Kenan makes you feel as if you’re the only girl in the world. He goes out of his way to make you feel special, cherished even, and there’s more than enough clarity that proves, to Kenan, you are the only girl in the universe.

He always has you on his mind, in interviews he manages to mention you in some way or another, and even his celebrations are often dedicated to you. His online persona itself shows this, with you being the only girl in his following, and him being the first to comment and like your posts. Although you two aren’t very public, he has managed to get the point across that he’s yours, and some even say that he seems to orbit around you.

Nonetheless, there are consequences that happen when you’re in a relationship with a famous footballer who’s not only massively talented but also incredibly handsome.

This means that more often than not, some girl will be deluded enough to think she can rub her grubby hands on your boyfriend and blink her abnormally large eyelashes at him and have him wrapped around her nasty little finger.

You’re being harsh, but the green monster inside of you called envy is vicious, and well, Kenan is yours.

You watch with thinly veiled rage as the supposed interviewer brushes Kenan’s arms for the umpteenth time, giggling as she shuffles closer to him, and the next action makes your blood boil, pressing herself on to him.

It’s clear to anyone, in fact even a blind man would be able to tell that your boyfriend is uncomfortable. Kenan’s face is contorted into a permanent grimace that this interviewer seems oblivious to, and from where you’re seated, you can tell that even the camera man has grown to notice the awkwardness that permeates him.

Yet no one does anything, and you feel yourself begin to frown, you can’t help but think, “Is this not workplace harassment?”

Her movements carry a subtle confidence that makes you scoff, but it is evident that she’s clearly unbothered by the lackluster response from Kenan, and seems to show no intention of backing off despite the younger man’s obvious discomfort.

You remain seated, even though you desperately want to run up across the field and rip that interviewer into shreds.

You don’t want to cause a scene, but your patience snaps when she brushes away a strand of hair on Kenan’s face, who’s grimace has now turned into a scowl. Her gaze on him is predatory and you know if it was directed at you from a man, it would make you shiver in disgust.

You stand up, marching down the bleachers and across the freshly cut grass with determination, having had enough of this absurd behaviour.

As you make your way to them, the interviewer makes eye contact with you and you notice a glimmer of smugness flash behind her eyes, but underneath it, her expression bubbles with an annoyance that infuriates you.

Her intentions are clearly anything but innocent but the smile she flashes your way seems to mimic it with expertise. It’s so evidently fake, the sweetness on her face is overpowering and a far cry from the sultry tone she’s had the entirety of this interview, from what you’ve observed.

You have never felt more inclined to slap a person than now, but you keep yourself in check, if this girls wants to get bitchy? Well, you’ll show her bitchy.

Kenan’s expression, on the other hand, brightens at your presence, but his eyes widen a little when he spots the aggression behind in your eyes. The smile on your face is as ingenuine as it gets but before he can say anything to appease you the interviewer opens her mouth.

“Hey… We were just talking about you.” Her voice floats out and it drips with sugar, in a way that makes you want to vomit, your ears cringe as if you’re hearing nails on a chalkboard.

“Oh were you now?”

“Yeah I was just telling Kenan how nice it must be to have a girlfriend who doesn’t seem to care about what the public thinks!”

The backhanded compliment is abrupt and strange, and you’re confused, is that really the best she could come up with?

You almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

One moment this girl is boldly rubbing herself on your boyfriend and the best she can say to you is this?

You’re about to retaliate with a response but then smirk as an idea crosses your mind.

You don’t leave Kenan even a moment to blink or process the situation, even the interviewer and the Camera Man are stunned, as well as the millions of viewers watching the live stream.

Your hand reaches out to grab the collar of Kenan’s jersey, your actions reckless and abrupt, as you grab him closer and pull his head down to yours.

A gasp escapes his mouth as he stumbles a little, surprised and taken aback at your actions, but responds in kind when your lips meet his.

Kenan’s reaction makes it seem like he forgets the events that lead to this moment entirely, melting into you as you cradle his head.

It seems as if you two are lost in another world, just the two of you as everything around begins to blur. You press closer to Kenan, softly kissing him as he responds to your actions just as gently, both of you exhibiting emotion that spells love.

You move your mouth against his, trying to show your adoration to the man in front of you, forgetting the purpose of your actions in the first place as you feel his arms wrap around you.

You begin to lose yourself in his touch, his kisses have your mind feeling hazy and stars cloud your eyes as you sigh into the kiss.

Your whole form begins to turn into puddle, and your mind only seems to echo the singular thought that crosses your mind primary when he’s touching you.

Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan.

Like a mantra.

All you can focus on his touch, his hands, his lips, only him.

The same effect seems to reflect on him, as Kenan seems equally as dazed, kissing you fervently like a starved man, as if you’re the first drop of water in an isolated desert.

Kenan drinks you up eagerly, holding you tightly.

You only break apart at the purposeful cough from the interviewer, and you realise where you are.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself and remember what your original motives were, and then a smirk graces your swollen lips.

“Is that right Kenan? Your girlfriend doesn’t care about the public eye” Your voice is smug and sarcastic, filled with pride and the interviewer seems embarrassed, put off by your very public display of affection and the clear response to her supposed insult.

It’s comical to see the snobbish expression on her face be replaced by a look of mortification.

“Huh” is the only reply he offers, and you can only smile at the boy who still seems to be processing the aftermath of your very steamy kiss.

His cheeks are flushed red and his hair is tousled. The look on his face extinguishes all your previous agitation at the moment the interviewer had touched it.

You beam at him, and it’s more than clear to perhaps the whole world now that Kenan is yours, and only you can make him feel and look like this.

You turn back to the interviewer, “Oh! I must’ve gotten distracted, I just came here to say… wait! what’s your name? oh nevermind, I just wanted to say I admire your confidence, walking around like that! Now is the interview done? I’d like to… speak to my boyfriend about something private.”

The interviewer looks even more flustered than you’d have thought possible, and if you were a nicer person, you’d have felt the tiniest bit of sympathy, or atleast pity, for her, but all you feel is a surge of self satisfaction as you watch her mutter something about wrapping up and squaddle away from the two of you.

Once she’s finally disappeared from your sight, you turn to Kenan, who still seems a little astonished, and you can’t help the fondness in your eyes as you run your eyes over him.

He catches the look and his cheeks grow warmer, but he reaches out to cradle your hand, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Confusion rises in your eyes as you look at him, “Me? I should be asking you that, someone from a mile away could tell how uncomfortable she made you.”

Kenan shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself, I’m a big boy you know” His voice is teasing and you chuckle at him.

“Seriously though, she just wouldn’t take a hint and I didn’t want to be impolite.”

You shake your head at him, tugging his hand a little as the both of you begin to walk out, “I could tell, but I guess we gave her a little show”

Kenan smiled at you, pulling you close as one of his arms comes to rest at your waist.

“Oh you gave her a show alright,” He whispers affectionately, “But i’m glad you did, I don’t mind letting the world know i’m yours.”

You can’t help but blush at his words, your heart flutters wildly in your chest and it’s insane how despite being together for so long, Kenan still has this effect on you.

“Mhm I don’t mind either” Your voice takes on a coquettish edge, as you lean over, your face only inches away from his.

Kenan’s hands wrap around your hips as he grins at you.

“Trust me I know.”

“I should just post a picture of you and I and caption it the boy is mine.”

liked by kenanyildiz_official and others

ynusername - the boy is mine.

comments

kenanyildiz_official - only yours 🤍

user09 - that kiss on live television wasn’t enough girl

↪️ user86 - nah she’s letting yall know that’s HER man

user12 - nah tbf i would’ve done the same if my bf looked like that

user3 - yooo we get it bro

user96 - the second slide??? bro calm down ain’t nobody gonna take her from you

user916 - plss you ended that interviewer with the “what’s your name”

↪️ user1 - lmaooo i would never show my face again

↪️ user123 - i just know she’s crying seeing this post

user - WHATS 4 + 4

user22 - damn.

user0 - yall need a third? pls pls pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

fin.

buy me one as well 🙏🏻🙏🏻

juve’s new kit looks so good

juve’s new kit looks so good

who’s watching man united vs liverpool

I laughed so hard when max was told to race lando cuz all of us knew it was just wasting time 😭😭😭

But if Ferrari pull off smth today would it be oscars fault ??? Like considered oscars fault for lap 1 from a racing point of view ???

Just to waste his time and show him up a bit lol. We love to see it. Let them never forget who the drivers champion is here

Lando fans will consider it Oscar’s fault. But the fact is, Lando had pole. He had every advantage at the start and as usual (and we can say usual because it happens very frequently) Lando threw it in the bin. That’s not on anyone except Lando.