#000 during the Season

[sirenedeslily]

VIDEO OBSESSION〻ᯇ # matthew sturniolo

🖥️𓈒ིུ✧꫶᳜᳝͟ᰭ✿⃨ TRENDING NOW ! matt sturniolo was known for many things: his striking looks, his dominance in the gaming world, and his complete inability to keep his cool around beautiful women. so it’s almost poetic—almost—that his fiery temper explodes during an intense fortnite match, broadcasted live to thousands, only to discover later that the player who completely shattered his pride was y/n greenblatt, one of the most beloved streamers in the community—and undeniably beautiful.

─ 𖥻breaking news ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ fumble of the decade ?

❨ PAIRING ❩ streamer!MATT x streamer!READER

❨ GENRE ❩ smau with writing, strangers2lovers, fluff, slight angst, potential smut, twitch streamer au, matt sturniolo x female reader

✦ ۰ — DISCLAIMER ! cursing, suggestive/nsfw jokes, mentions of alcohol and drug consumption, matt is a fucking loser, y/n has a face claim for story purposes, original characters, kys jokes, tba

―✦ RELATED TOPICS ❨ featuring ❩

𖥻de4rgigi 𖥻matthew.sturniolo

𖥻aerichandesu 𖥻nicolassturniolo 𖥻14veryordinary

𖥻christophersturniolo 𖥻ryan.xasan

𖥻hamzahthefantastic 𖥻e11emm 𖥻pinkpantheress

✦ SEARCHING FOR PROFILES… two results found !

( ❋ ) @FallenAngels ( ✢ ) @ChromeHearts

✶ TAP TO EXPLORE! ੭

000 › fuck support | smau

001 › dumbass skin | smau

002 › tis the season | smau

TAGLIST ( open ) ; @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @waitforyrlove @elizabebabe @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @secretlocket @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @strnilolover @xoxo4chrisss @ifwdominicfike @emely9274 @bluestriips @emely9274 @fratbrochrisgf @2augustsago @sturn777 @st4rsturns

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ this has been in the drafts (my brain) for months now, we’re going back to my second post ever and making it a series !!! (finally) i hope that you guys are just as excited as i am :3

✶ SIRENEDESLILY | 2O24. do not plagiarize any of my work.

[37sommz]

000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: take a bow [1.7k, fluff?]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis:⠀never put michaela, max, and seb in a press room together. ✼. notes:⠀seb is and will always be michaela #1 defender. ✼. warnings:⠀none!

✼.⠀OCTOBER 24, 2020 — portimão, portugal

"Michaela, tell us about your strategy for tomorrow's race." A journalist called out, as the buzz of the crowded room grew expectant.

Michaela leaned back in her chair and took a sip of water before addressing the sea of faces. "Strategy?" She echoed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Well, I plan to start from 17th, work my way through the pack, and then just teleport to the top step of the podium. What do you think of that, Max?"

Max couldn't help but chuckle at the side. "Sounds perfectly possible," He quipped, earning a round of laughter from the room. Sebastian, ever the accomplice to their comedic duo, nodded wistfully. "If only we had that technology."

The room lightened up a bit, the tension of the intense qualifying session dissipating. Another journalist, seemingly not in on the joke, fired off a more serious question. "Michaela, your performance at the Tuscan Grand Prix was historic, but since then, your team has struggled. How do you plan to overcome the recent setbacks?"

Michaela's smile remained, but her eyes narrowed in recognition of the journalist's voice. Anthony Georges, a motorsports reporter for the BBC, had never been shy to challenge Michaela's dodges. From her Formula 2 days, Georges had been the bane of her existence. The very reason she had walked out of a press conference during the first race of the 2018 season.

"Well, I've been taking inspiration from my latest shopping trip. You know, you might not find what you're looking for right away, but with persistence and a bit of luck, you can still come home with something special." She winked at the Brit, her words another clever dodge.

The room rippled with laughter again, but the journalist pressed on. "I meant technically speaking. What is Alfa Romeo doing to improve?" His lips pressed into a stern line, graying eyebrows furrowed in a smug, accusatory expression.

Michaela's expression softened as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Look, we're working tirelessly behind the scenes. It's not just about slapping on a new wing or tweaking the engine. We're in the middle of a season that's thrown more curveballs than you can imagine. But we're a team and together we're navigating these challenges."

The room fell quiet for a brief moment, Georges seemingly at a loss for a comeback for the moment. Sebastian, ever the opportunist, jumped in. "And let's not forget, she's still the only one here who's managed to avoid hitting a wall this weekend. That has to count for something, right?"

The tension broke again, the room erupting in sporadic chuckles. Max couldn't resist a laugh either, remembering his own unfortunate incident earlier in the weekend.

"Speaking of walls," Another journalist said. "What do you make of the criticism that your recent DNF in Sochi is a sign that you're not cut out for this level of racing?"

Michaela's smile never wavered. "Ah, the infamous 'female driver' stereotype," She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, if you ask me, I'd say it's more about the car and the track than my gender. But, hey, if you want to believe that I'm secretly trying to redecorate the circuits with my car parts, go ahead. That's not my problem."

The room was filled with a mix of shocked expressions and snickers. Sebastian leaned forward, a glint in his eye. "I must admit, I've hit a few walls in my time," He said with a self-deprecating grin. "It's part of the job description, isn't it?"

Michaela nodded solemnly, playing along. "Absolutely, Sebastian. It's in the fine print right under 'must be able to operate under extreme G-forces' and 'capable of consuming copious amounts of energy drinks.'" Her reference to energy drinks is emphasized by Max who lifts his own RedBull energy drink in a mocking toast.

A journalist, a newer face in the pressroom, from the back of the room, emboldened by Georges' initial challenge, decided to jump into the fray. "But isn't it true that your teammate Kimi Raikkonen seems to handle the car better?"

Michaela's eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked over at her press officer, Beata Gasparro, who motioned frantically for her to keep her calm. "Kimi's a legend," She said, "But let's not forget, he's also got more than a decade on me. I've got plenty of time to get the hang of it."

"I'd like to add that Mickey's actually doing relatively better than Kimi this season. She's outperformed him at all races this season except for what?" Sebastian spoke up in defense of the former Ferrari reserve driver.

He glanced towards Michaela and Max, knowing the two of them would know the answer to his question. The Alfa Romeo driver decided to remain quiet, choosing instead to stare straight ahead at the questioning journalist.

Max jumped in her stead responding with a casual, "Spa and Sochi.", and a smile as if punctuating the point. Sebastian nodded at the answer, closing the question off with, "I'm sure Kimi won't mind me saying that."

"He doesn’t care much about anything these days," Michaela muttered under her breath. The cheeky remark had the room in stitches again. Kimi was notorious for his icy personality, so it was no secret that his preference for not speaking much was a running joke in the paddock.

The journalist's face reddened, but he maintained his composure. "What about the psychological aspect, then? Do you feel any extra pressure being the first woman to achieve such a feat?"

Michaela leaned forward, her gaze intense. "I'm a driver, not a pioneer on a mission to prove anything about my gender. The pressure I feel is the same as any of these guys feel—to win races and do the best I can for the team. And honestly, if I let every question about my gender throw me off, I'd never get out of bed in the morning. So, let's talk about racing, yeah?"

Her words hit the journalist like a cold splash of water, but as she sensed an opportunity, she added fuel to the fire. "You know, we've got a race to talk about tomorrow. Maybe we should focus on the actual cars going around in circles instead of my inability to pee standing up." The room erupted in laughter, even Georges couldn't help but crack a smile.

"But seriously," Michaela continued, her tone earnest now, "I race because I love it. Because I'm good at it. And because every time I get into the cockpit, I'm racing against the best in the world, regardless of their gender. Now, if you have any more questions about the actual racing, I'd be happy to answer them. Otherwise, I think we're all set here."

Sebastian's hum of approval only served to embolden Michaela in knowing she had properly shut down the years of gendered attacks on her and her abilities.

"Alright, alright," Georges jumped in, seemingly admitting defeat, raising his hands in mock surrender. "We'll stick to the racing, as the lady wishes." He leaned back in his chair, a glint of respect in his eyes. "But, let's talk about strategy for real this time. What's the game plan for tomorrow?"

Michaela leaned back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips. "Strategy doesn't work if you explain it," She quipped before taking a deep breath and giving a more serious response. "We're going to play it smart, work the tires, and hope for some good old-fashioned racing luck. That's all I can say without giving away our secret sauce."

The press conference continued, with questions flying from all angles, but the mood had shifted. The journalists, though still probing, had been put in their place and were now receiving the kind of answers that didn't feed into their narratives.

Michaela's responses remained sharp, and she was practiced at pivoting the conversation back to the race. "Tomorrow's going to be a tough one," She said, her eyes scanning the room, "But that's what we live for, right?" She grinned at Max and Sebastian, who nodded in agreement.

As the conference drew to a close, Michaela thanked the journalists with a wink directed towards the BBC reporter. As she received a smile that formed a semblance of respect between the two of them, she left the room a bit lighter. With Beata on her tail, however, she could feel the scolding coming from the middle-aged Italian woman.

"Michaela, you can't just say things like that," Beata whispered in rushed Italian urgently as they navigated through the corridors of the Algarve International Circuit.

Michaela turned to her, her smile never leaving her face. "Why not? It's the truth, isn't it?"

Beata sighed. "It's a fine line, Mickey. You don't want to be seen as disrespectful."

Michaela raised an eyebrow. "But I'm not. I'm just telling them to stick to the racing. I've earned that much, don't you think so?" The unspoken insinuation of all the hardship Michaela had been forced to navigate with the confrontational press during her junior career hung in the air.

With a tinge of acceptance, Beata sighed, "Why can I never win with you?"

Michaela just laughed as they approached the team's garage. "You know, I'm not trying to make enemies," She said, her voice growing softer. "But I've had enough of the bullshit. It's about time someone called them out." Her famously near-perfect Italian caught the ears of some of the mechanics who laughed in recognition, knowing how fed up the Australian had been in recent weeks.

"I know, I know," Beata sighed, her stern expression softening into one of understanding. "But you've got to be smart, Mickey. You can't let them get under your skin."

Michaela nodded, her eyes focused on the garage ahead. "I'm not letting them get under my skin. I'm just not going to let them define me anymore." She paused, looking back at her press officer. "You saw the crap I got when I first started. This is nothing."

Beata's expression softened. "You're right. You've come a long way. But we're at the highest level now, and the stakes are higher."

Michaela nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. "I know. And that's exactly why I'm going to keep pushing back. I've earned my seat here, and I'm not going to let anyone question that anymore."

✼. taglist:⠀feel free to send in an ask/comment to join the taglist <3

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@thearchieves @doodlehunz @evie-119

@bxdbxtxh @seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn

@99snse @ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut

@hiireadstuff @emilyval1 @anotherblackreader

@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearyyyy

@melancholyy-hill @valluvsu @futuristiccroissantlampsludge

@treehouse-mouse @sunfairyy

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

D.W. McLachlan responds to the recent discourse around COVID safety at meetings by comparing risk probabilities. Ultimately, it’s unclear what advantage we gain by refusing to protect each other from COVID, which poses an existential threat to any organizing effort.

A recent tweet by @timerube of New York City DSA (Democratic Socialists of America, a big-tent socialist organization in the United States, the largest of its kind) has prompted outrage and division among the so-called left along lines of COVID mitigation.

This letter is not about litigating who is and isn’t a proper socialist based on their use of personal protective equipment. I don’t care what you call yourself or other people. This is a letter about how you need to account for reality in your organizing or you won’t be effective in reality. If you want to normalize COVID, you need to account for the effects of that decision and mitigate the risks it poses.

Let’s describe the landscape of risks that is likely to be familiar to many readers. Imagine that you work at a grocery store and want to secure anti-fatigue mats at workstations. Eventually, you will likely need to meet with your coworkers to decide the steps you’ll take to pressure management to meet your demands. Most of these co-workers will need transportation to make it to the meeting. Transportation involves risk. If you held 10,000 of these meetings over time in the United States, there’s a good chance that there would be a fatality due to a car accident on the way to one or two of those meetings (based on average US traffic fatality rates of 13.8 per 100 000 people). As anyone who has had to work long hours on hard, cold floors can attest, you’re much more likely to face consequences from the working conditions in this example than you are from traffic accidents. So, is it worth the risk? We can make the choice even clearer by encouraging remote meeting and transportation by even safer means like bus or train. 10,000 meetings is about 10 years of weekly meetings. At the end of this simple calculation, it makes sense to meet since meeting is likely the only path to victory and won’t expose participants to very much risk. This is not an endorsement of the rates of traffic accidents. The fact that we need to bear this risk in order to organize is itself a loss, but we did fight for decades to mitigate this risk so it doesn’t immediately threaten our movements on its own.

Of course, the biggest risk of meeting with your coworkers (in person with no mitigations) during the ongoing COVID–19 pandemic is not dying in a traffic accident, not by a long shot. COVID will impact your organizing ability if you don’t mitigate the risk. Using the same example, let’s imagine that you get 300 of your grocery store coworkers (you work in a chain of grocery stores) together for a meeting in person with no COVID mitigations. This meeting takes place in an NYC church on November 11, 2024. According to our best modeling, 1 in 113 people in NYC were likely infectious on November 11th. So you almost certainly have at least two contagious co-workers in the meeting. They will likely infect 10–25 people at your meeting (Omicron has an R0 of 10-25, so each person infects 10 to 25 other people over the course of their infection. This information is discussed in the post-script). At Dynamic Zero, we’re using an average Long COVID per infection rate of 20% and the reasoning is discussed at length in the Summer 2024 Seasonal Update. Imagining that the chain of infection ends there, with a 20% rate of Long COVID resulting from these infections, your meeting will permanently harm 2–5 of your activists. The disability resulting from that harm may not be total (for example, losing one’s sense of smell can be devastating but it’s unlikely to prevent labor action), but the effect is cumulative. This will happen every meeting. This is beyond the impact of the acute phase of the disease itself, which lasts 10-14 days on average. The equivalent to the disability risk in our original example would mean a rate of being disabled by a vehicle accident of 8,333 per 100,000, which is 603 times higher than what our society bears as “acceptable risk” for traffic fatalities.

This will not be your only meeting, of course, and the risk doesn’t stop after the first meeting. The fight for any improvement in working conditions usually takes months or years, as any experienced activist will tell you. 5 out of 300 is 1.6%. How many meetings can you host like this before your entire body of 300 coworkers has been maimed by COVID infections? Approximately 62 meetings. As an activist for climate justice prior to 2020, I personally attended 4–6 meetings a week. Each meeting also means that 8.3% of your labor pool for actions will be sick for up to two weeks. At best, they will make mistakes and need more rest. It’s likely that they will need material support and community care, which is a wonderful product of our activism but it takes more effort away from actions that work toward our demands. If we don’t want to mitigate the effects of this risk, we need to account for it and describe a plan to win even with such high rates of attrition. I personally don’t believe it’s possible to attrite a significant portion of your organizers each meeting and win, that seems like a dead end.

This is all beyond considering the frankly ghoulish opposite side of the equation. We grudgingly risk traffic accidents so we can organize for a better world. What do we get for risking COVID infections? We refuse to wear masks so we can feel normal? We refuse to clean the air so we don’t have to think about how the authorities are lying to us? Or about how each of us is vulnerable to Long COVID? Is it the snacks? I can’t really imagine what’s on the other side of the equation for the COVID denialists that makes it worth it to refuse to mitigate the risk so fervently.

Several people discussing the original tweet have called people asking for mitigations of this risk (which means filtering the air, getting vaccinated regularly, and wearing respirators indoors) “COVID Dead-enders”. This is a very obvious projection. The (extremely optimistic, since it assumes no other community spread and only one meeting per week) alternative to mitigation is to maim a group of 300 activists every year or two just with meetings. How many groups of 300 activists have you got?

My argument is that our bourgeois civil leadership has decided that it’s normal to make every public space invisibly hazardous by systematically promoting COVID reinfection and removing the tools people need to inform and protect themselves from the threat. This is a form of social control since it makes resistance without COVID mitigation hazardous. Your meeting itself is a source of harm and attrition if you don’t mask and clean the air. Who’s working for the feds here?

D.W. McLachlan

Post-script: On R0, Rt, Variants, Immunity, and Bullshit Regarding the ability to model and predict how many people will be infected in a given meeting, it’s important to note that the quality of this data is not very good and the situation is certainly worse than it appears because of the Biden administration’s widespread suppression of testing and data collection. However, if we accept official figures, the 2–3 people with COVID at your 300-person meeting certainly have a subvariant of Omicron. Data on Long COVID rates are impacted by the same suppression as testing and reporting, but the math is easy to adapt.

R0 and Rt are statistical figures that represent how contagious a particular disease is. R0 is also called the "basic reproduction number." Rt is the "effective reproduction number," which accounts for immunity in the population from vaccination and prior infection. An R0 of 2 means that each person first infected with a disease will spread it to two others.

I use the R0 of Omicron in the article for several reasons:

First, it’s unclear how the situation has changed due to the suppression of testing and reporting noted above. Wastewater data is notoriously inappropriate for comparing between different waves of COVID infection because of the nature of “normalization target, qPCR chemistry, and watershed scale”. We don’t have a collection method and context that can produce a reliable updated R0 or Rt number for a given variant that accurately determines an individual’s risk and how that has changed since Omicron.

Second, just because public health officials have abandoned the precautionary principle doesn’t mean we should too. Our leaders all over the imperial core have abandoned many aspects of prosocial thinking and policy to protect profits. I am not motivated to discipline myself by the malice of my enemies. The traffic accident analogy is still apt. I don’t know how likely it is to save someone when I prioritize distributing bus tickets at a meeting. I just know that if I didn’t, and someone was hurt, I would forever question whether I could have prevented their suffering with a simple bus ticket. The respirator is analogous to the bus ticket for handling the risk of infecting your comrades with COVID.

Third, it doesn’t actually matter. I don’t need to know the exact number against which I weigh your life before I act to protect you. We need each other and I don’t want you to get hurt.

[mydaddywiki]

Buddy Ryan

Physique: Husky Build Height: 5"10"

James David "Buddy" Ryan (February 17, 1931 – June 28, 2016; aged 85) was an American football coach in the NFL and AFL. During his 35-season coaching career, Ryan served as the head coach of the Philadelphia Eagles from 1986 to 1990, and of the Arizona Cardinals from 1994 to 1995. Ryan also served as the defensive coordinator of the Chicago Bears from 1978 to 1985, and of the Houston Oilers in 1993. Coaching multiple Hall of Fame defensive players throughout his career, Ryan is considered by many to be one of the greatest defensive minds in the history of American football.

Authentic and ornery, Ryan had that rugged, tough look that always get me going. Even his sons, Rex Ryan and Rob Ryan have it to some degree, but not the way Buddy did.

Born in Frederick, Oklahoma, Ryan played college football for Oklahoma A&M University (now Oklahoma State) where he earned four letters as a guard between 1952 and 1955. He served as a sergeant in the United States Army during the Korean War. Following his service in the military, Ryan's a career as a defensive troubadour began, winding its way through New York, Minnesota, Chicago, Philadelphia, Houston and Arizona.

Twice married, Ryan had had three sons, including fraternal twins, Rex and Rob with his first wife, Doris Ryan. Ryan married his second wife, Joanie Ryan in 1970. Ryan died on June 28, 2016, on his ranch in Shelbyville, Kentucky, at the age of 85, after a lengthy illness. Ryan's passion for the game often made him a divisive figure. As a coordinator, he warred with his head coach and fellow assistants. Most memorably, Ryan throwing a punch at Kevin Gilbride on the sideline of a nationally televised game. And he stay in the back of my mind ever since.

Career Highlights and Awards 2× Super Bowl champion as assistant coach (III, XX)

Head Coaching Record Regular season: 55–55–1 (.500) Postseason: 0–3 (.000) Career: 55–58–1 (.487)

[sunxxxie]

Looking for a Fic

You know that feeling when you find an absolute gem of a fic, so good that in your mind it's actual canon content...so good you have dreams about it and even after *years* it's ever-present at the back of your mind. But when you go looking for it, it's GONE?! Sending you spiraling for several weeks as you desperately scour the web for it. And after several weeks and cryptic dreams about the plot, you feel as if you might be slowly loosing it.

Well, that's my current situation. I'm getting desperate- so desperate that I'm on tumblr.com begging for help(not desperate enough to log into reddit tho). Please tell me I'm not crazy and I didn't dream up one of the best fics I've ever read.

The fic was a Lego Monkie Kid fic centered around Bai He (aka LBD's host) after the events of season three. Itwassowellwrittengodineeditnow.

From what I remember:

Shadowpeach was the main romantic(kinda) relationship mentioned although from the few chapters I read it focuses more on the platonic relationships at the beginning. Also PIF and DBK were briefly implied to be in a poly relationship with an original female character which was cool.

The description was something along the lines of: "Bai He is just trying to pick up the pieces of her life after the Lady Bone Demon is gone. Luckily, she has the help of MK and the others... something something- Wukong noticed the shadows of the male primate circling the island but never having the courage to come closer.." Or something like that.

Bai He my emotionally repressed princess/affectionate. You could tell the author wrote her character with a lot of love. She was an orphan who had been in the care of an orphanage in France(I believe) before she became a street kid in China. There was also this underlying subtext that her time spent in France was during the 90s(the lore bro, the *lore*). Bai He's disconnect between her ethnic background compared to the rest of the gang made her interactions with the main cast really unique.

Lady Bone Demon's relationship with Bai He was portrayed as almost like an abusive/manipulative parent that you can't seem to completely hate because they're your parent and they're doing what they think is the best for you. Chiefs kiss.

Any fic that mentions the nuances of LBD and MK's dynamic instead of watering down her character to that vile evil Witch who wanted to destroy the world>>>>>>

The subtle world building 🙇peak🙇. The story literally began outside the city where the residents were evacuated. This included the main gang who'd basically already taken Bai He in. There were passing mentions of other mythological pantheons. Plus references to the JTTW.(the author mentioned something about Wukong having descendants which was mind-boggling to me- ik it's inaccurate but whatever.)

Monkey King basically got custody of Bai He and he took her to Flower Fruit Mountain to watch over her condition.

The author detailed Bai He's struggles with her past and her present situation as she was no longer fully human.

Nahza(my goat) was there, living up to his role as protector of children.

The closest fic I've found is 'A Bone to Pick' by SmilesThroughFandoms but the vibe is off. It isn't the same.

It was incomplete with more than 20 000 words and posted somewhere between late 2022/23.(this was the general time frame I read the fic before loosing it. In my defense I (a) didn't have an ao3 account at the time and (b) I was reading it in incognito mode🤡)

If anyone has any information about it please please please please please tell me.

[aenify]

⊹ ˚🎄 ! ╱ BAD REVIEW ౨ৎ yang jungwon

⠀⠀⠀› 000 , profiles: ugh male influencers

PREVIOUSLY | MASTERLIST | NEXT

❄️  ⌗ SYNOPSIS ꒱ ⠀anyone could tell you that getting scheduled to work on christmas day is terrible. after all, nobody wants to work during holiday season—the customers are awful and the repetitive music makes you want to rip your hair out. then, some random guy your age orders a sundae that causes you to gag while you put the order in, just for him to rate your grandfather’s restaurant a 2.5/10 stars on twitter. if there’s anything you hate more than working holidays, it’s influencers who cause trouble just for views.

📓  ⌗ GENRE ꒱⠀papa’s scooperia!au, social media!au, holiday themed, strangers-to-lovers, fluff, comedy (pls laugh!!!!)

🎐  ⌗ TAGLIST ꒱⠀@tasnemluvs @elegancefr | (open: comment, send an ask, or apply here to join!!)

🕊️  ⌗ AUTHOR’S NOTE ꒱⠀i recycled these from imgonnagetyouback shhh

© 2024 AENiFY. All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy or steal anything I post!

[wuthering-tempest]

I'm not actually sure i'm a big fan of the decline/nixing of 00 IDs tbh, i think thats gonna have the opposite result of getting kjh that sweet sweet Anime Money unless he intends to implement a 0000 rarity or something, because otherwise people are probs gonna only shard for the sinners theyre attached to/ids that are GOOD rather than pull on banners. A 000 ID that performs like a 00 ID isn't gonna fly well if it starts happeninng more and more. but what do i know. i love my 00s so maybe i just want to have low rarity silly fellas

i also don't like the idea of older IDs falling into obscurity but its mostly bc im very very attached to my first IDs and dont wanna have to stop using them just bc rheir number output isnt crazy like modern IDs are. I feel like this could be fixed by rolling out an uptie V but on a per-season basis (for example, during hong lu's canto we get the ability to uptie V IDs and egos but only from season 1, so on so forth etc etc). I know the power creep IS a lore thing, but. surely this would be an easier option than implementing skins? Not that I dont like the idea of skins though, they're DEFINITELY a really fun idea 🤔

[defodisturbed]

Jake Sully fluff ideas :000

imagine exploring each other's bodies, but not in a sexual way. finding the different birthmarks, looking over each other's scars and sharing the stories behind them. running your hands over one another and just appreciating the feeling of being next to each other

imagine jake tucking the sheets around you when you stir during the night (and vise versa)

imagine you and jake help each other dry and brush your hair after a shower

imagine sharing a dessert with jake!!

imagine him making your favorite meal when you have a hard day!!

imagine decorating the hut with seasonal decorations while having debates over what holidays are better than others!!

imagine jake wrapping a blanket around you when you two are sitting on the couch and watching a show!!

imagine FINGER PAINTING with him!!

imagine having a tickle fight with jake sully, the big bad warrior!!

imagine jake carving your initials and drawing a heart around it on a tree because he's so in love!!

(the clan teased them by vandalizing it) (maybe norm took part in it too)

[site666]

ok, a genuine request

Could you draw Iceberg in a fall/autumn setting? I think his color contrast would go great with the orange and red leaves during that season :000

I’ve been wanting to draw him in that setting but I haven’t had the motivation

ur a genius my friend he contrasts so well

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @direwombat @derelictheretic @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @nightbloodbix @carlosoliveiraa @corvosattano @cloudofbutterflies92 @chazz-anova @voidika @onehornedbeast @softtidesworld @minilev @titiagls @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @deputyash @purplehairsecretlair @florbelles @inafieldofdaisies @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @ladyoriza @megraen @skoll-sun-eater @snake-in-the-garden @starsandskies @thewanderer-000 @strafethesesinners @strangefable @la-grosse-patate and @shellibisshe + anyone else who is interested. Here's the taglist for those who wish to be continued to tagged or not.

Songs for Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Music below the cut.

Vega, my Fallout 76 OC, is one of the "Residents" of Vault 76. Originally a settlement planner, she is now on a quest of revenge against the other residents of Vault 76 for "wrongfully" leaving her behind in the vault. Truthfully nobody wanted to deal with her bullshit and didn't want to wait on her when they had a job they'd been waiting 25 years to do, so they left her to sleep in (because she had a bit wee too much to drink during the night of Reclamation Day), thinking she'd catch up to them later. Vega did not take it likely. She also has a particularly concerning obsession with Vault 76's Overseer, viewing the older woman as her rival (even if the Overseer views Vega as merely a minor annoyance at best and always poking holes in Vega's delusions). This song pretty much sums up Vega's POV regarding the Overseer (and her fellow Vault 76's Residents).

"Oh, wherever you go You know I will follow you You know I will run to you Oh, the sun and the moon It don't matter what you do You know I will run to you

Can't believe in all this time I'm hurting for you But you feel like hold down The love you give it lift's so high I'm dying for it I'm dying for it And I can't let you go

Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Or you'll lose, or you'll lose Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Or you'll lose, or you'll lose

If you hide away I'll hunt you down And follow you to the end of the Earth My heart beats with yours My lungs breathe with yours You're a piece of me I can't hide away

Oh, I'm under your spell I'm making and I'm fading And nobody can see I'm your heartbeat You're part of me

Can't believe in all this time I'm hurting for you But you feel like hold down The love you give it lift's so high I'm dying for it I'm dying for it And I can't let you go

Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Or you'll lose, or you'll lose Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Hide away, hide away from me Or you'll lose, or you'll lose."

Have a lovely ship song between Mercy Omar-Seed and Carmina Rye (the former is the daughter of Silva Omar and Faith Seed, the latter the daughter of Nick and Kim Rye). While Old Dusk (the WIP of the New Dawn arc) can be quite bleak (not as bleak as Silva's Hope though) due to the circumstances, this relationship is one of the most heartwarming highlights that I've been developing.

"Let's go below zero and hide from the sun I'll love you forever where we'll have some fun Yes, let's hit the North Pole and live happily Please don't cry no tears now, it's Christmas, baby

My snowman and me, hey My snowman and me Baby

Don't cry snowman, don't you fear the sun Who'll carry me without legs to run, honey? Without legs to run, honey? Don't cry snowman, don't you shed a tear Who'll hear my secrets if you don't have ears, baby? If you don't have ears, baby?

I want you to know that I'm never leaving Because I'm Mrs. Snow, 'til death we'll be freezing Yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons So come on let's go."

Imagine being amongst a group of individuals who have been brutally mutilated, experimented on or in general fucked over by the same short dude who's not only from another dimension and can travel through it to other worlds, but also runs a cult-like science organization dead-set on ruining humanity's life to help them "evolve" and laugh at their despair... well, that's the crux of Life, Despair & Monsters, a group of individuals, some of whom sure weren't the greatest (but still didn't deserve what happened to them), whose lives were negatively and irreversibly impacted by that of one Sir Enigma Malvolio and his Ruins of the Midnight Rise. All because he wanted to see how humans could cope with erratically spontaneous and disastrous change to their livelihoods.

"You say I'm craving hope in this darkness You say I'm just a joke, just a joke

Shivers my spine so much Swimming in the river styx too much They try to let go of us But the truth is... Once you're in then You're one of us

Truth is... Once you're in then You're one of us One of us Truth is once you're in then You're one of us

My darling in fire My darling rolls in fire You liar You say my darling rolls in fire, in fire You say my darling burns in fire You're a liar."

[elvis1970s]

Elvis was in Las Vegas in December, 1975, making up for the season that was abruptly cancelled after just three nights during August.

This engagement ran from December 2nd through to the 15th, with a significantly less intense schedule; a total of 16 shows and just one show per night with the exception of the two Saturdays, the 6th and the 13th. This great quality soundboard is from the midnight show on Saturday the 13th.

The 'silver phoenix' was one example of a jumpsuit style used between 1974 and 76. The original design concept wasn't for a bird at all, as Gene Doucette, Bill Belew's design associate, recalled in an interview with The Guardian in 2010;

"…I remember once I was working on a bunch of ideas and Elvis was impatient so asked, through his assistant's assistant's assistant, could he see some samples. I was making a jungle-themed suit at this point – vines, serpents, elephants – so I sent him a sample that featured a zebra's head on it. I heard back, 'Elvis loves it, but wonders why you've made the feet on the bird so small'. I had no idea what they were talking about, until I realised that when you looked at the zebra upside down, it kind of did resemble a bird. What could I do, it's Elvis? I just widened the zebra's nose, changed its feet to ears and reworked the shape and it became a Phoenix. Then I hear back: 'Elvis loves them, can you do five more in different colours?'.."

Elvis played his final Las Vegas engagement in December 1976, but was booked to open a new showroom, the 5 000 seat Hilton Pavilion, in October 1977.

[whats-9plus10]

Venture Bros Time Frame

Based on the Venture Brothers Wiki Timeline and what I could find in the show during my final rewatch before the movie. Like when I calculated Gary’s age, this is not an opinion piece. I pull straight from the source material. 

I am not starting from a specific year because we know Venture Bros references current pop culture based on the year each season was released. Various dates documented in the show fail to provide a cohesive timeline. Hence, my focus is on the time frame. I'll be keeping track by noting "Venture Bros Year _" when the series moves into the next year and by referencing years as "000(number of year)" while using dates. I suggest following along with your calendar open like I had to do while organizing this lol.

S1e11 Past Tense - Orpheus predicts that The Action Man will have a stroke in "2 years, 17 days." 

We will start pretty late into the first year, Venture Bros Year 1

S1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean - Takes place in late September 0001. 

The episode features Monarch's birthday, which is around late September 0001 when, according to him, "the leaves would be orange enough..." to build his Monarch wings. 

The Monarch butterfly migration and the leaves turning can begin around late September in New Jersey. 

A Very Venture Christmas Special occurs on Christmas, December 25th, 0001, between season 1 and season 2. 

While the entire episode was a dream, it was still revealed to be Christmas time. Sally is shown to be pregnant with Rocket. This is important because it solidifies that this episode specifically took place sometime between s1e7 Ice Station Impossible and s2e5 20 Years to Midnight. 

Venture Bros Year 2 

S2e2 Hate Floats - The boys celebrate their 16th birthday.

S2e5 20 Years to Midnight - This episode takes place May 4th, 0002, "...in Rusty's 44th year." In s1e8 Mid-life Chrysalis, he states his age is 43. Rusty must have turned 44 last month on April 30th, 0002. This means a little over 7 months have passed since s1e13. Rocket was born to Sally Impossible during that time. 

This means the boys' birthday is between December 26th - May 3rd. I'm casting a wide net because, for all we know, the episodes in between could have happened just days apart from each other. They live chaotic lives. 

S2e11 ¡Viva los Muertos! - Rusty promises the boys will receive something better than their clones as Christmas gifts. 

S2e12&13 Showdown at Cremation Creek (Parts 1 and 2) - This episode spans a month between the Monarch's proposal and the wedding. 

S3e4 Home Is Where the Hate Is - The boys state that they are still 16 years old "going on 17". That phrase usually indicates a birthday is approaching, but we can't assume anything definitive. What this does tell us is that a full year has not gone by since s2e2 Hate Floats, assuming the boys didn't die again off-screen.

S3e5 The Buddy System - Billy says he is 35. Based on s2e12&13 Showdown at Cremation Creek (Parts 1 and 2), we know that he is 35 at least a month after May 4th, 0002. 

Here's where it gets tricky

S3e8 Tears of a Sea Cow - Dean's newspaper is dated May 23rd. I will explore two possibilities. 

Possibility 1

Even though I don't feel like the date on Dean's paper is strong evidence as it could be a secondhand thought made up by the animators or a reference to how each season seems to occur in the year it airs, the month of May would line up as the boys had previously told Hatred they were about to turn 17 years old four episodes prior, indicating a birthday was near. If we say we are already in Venture Bros Year 3 and believe the date in the newspaper to be May 23rd, 0003, the boys would already be 17 during this episode because we know their birthday is before May 4th. However...

S3e13 The Family That Slays Together, Stays Together Part 2 - Hank says "...open my Christmas gifts early...." referring to the clones they discovered in s2e11 ¡Viva los Muertos!. Indicating that December 25th, 0002 has not occurred yet. 

Possibility 2

What this could mean, other than an oversight, is that it was May 23rd, 0002. This would make the boys still 16 years old. And everything between s2e5 20 Years to Midnight and s3e8 Tears of a Sea Cow takes place all in one month... but that also doesn't work because s2e12&13 Showdown at Cremation Creek (Parts 1 and 2) spans about a month by itself and we see the Monarchs multiple times in various stages of their relationship throughout season 2. 

Because acknowledging the date in the newspaper would not work either way, I feel that it's safe to disregard it completely based on the current information we have. I feel more confident in trusting the writing that came directly from Doc and Jackson rather than the animation. 

S4e1 Blood of the Father, Heart of Steel - The Nazis give Rusty "8 months" to clone Hitler. During this time Hank grew out his hair, Brock got out of shape and back in shape, and Gary got dieseled. Somewhere during those 8 months, we moved on to…

Venture Bros Year 3 

S4e2 Handsome Ransom - Billy says he is 37. If Billy wasn't lying or rounding up, this means at least a year and a day have passed since s3e5 The Buddy System. The boys must be 17 at this point. 

S4e5 The Revenge Society - Documenting where this episode takes place for a later reference. 

S4e10 Pomp and Circuitry - Brock tells Hank "...you also have to be 18" to dissuade him from joining SPHINX. Confirming that two whole years have not passed since s2e2 Hate Floats.

S4e12 Everybody Comes to Hank's - Hank asks Dean "How was your summer?" hinting that they are approaching the middle to end of summer. 

S4e15 The Silent Partners -JJ is in space building Gargantua II. This is information for later reference.

S4e16 Operation: P.R.O.M. - In the commentary, Doc and Jackson use prom to symbolize the boy's unofficial 18th birthday, more specifically their ascent into adulthood. I did not take this to mean it was literally their 18th birthday. The latest their birthday can be is May 3rd and at this point, they are nearing the fall. 

S5e1 What Color Is Your Cleansuit? - Takes place the day after P.R.O.M. and spans 3 months. A Very Venture Halloween special takes place in the middle of it on October 31st, 0003. We see Gary raking leaves - Fall. Then the compound is covered in snow - Winter. The weather here is intentional to show the passage of time. It is unclear at this point if we have moved on to the next year. There is no mention of Christmas or New Year's. By the end of the episode, it could be as early as November 0003. 

At this point, we are over 2 years and at least 1 month into the series. We started in September 0001 in s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean and are now sometime past October 31st, 0003. I am keeping in mind Orpheus' prediction of "2 years and 17 days". In the commentary Doc and Jackson state that the Action Man could have considered his health since the prediction which resulted in delaying his stroke. 

S5e3 SPHINX Rising - Gary says "Hank is an adult." I took this to mean he had turned 18 at some point. While their birthday may be at the end of December because we had cast a wide net for them earlier, I will assume we’ve moved on to…

Venture Bros Year 4

Here’s where it gets tricky part 2

S5e4 Spanakopita! - This episode should take place in October. Team Venture attended the wedding of Aristotle Onassis and Jackie Kennedy which took place on October 20th, 1968. Another historical event mentioned was the Apollo 7 mission, which took place Oct 11, 1968 – Oct 22, 1968. In the flashback we see Spanakopita aligning with the Splashdown date, October 22, 1968. This is evidence that the dates are intentional. 

In this episode we see Hank in his strength suit, confirming that Spanakopita takes place after s5e1 What Color Is Your Cleansuit? and A Very Venture Halloween special. I feel it's unlikely that they intended for a full year to have passed between s5e1 What Color Is Your Cleansuit? and s5e4 Spanakopita!. I want to make this as accurate as possible so I'm going to entertain two possibilities.

Possibility 1

If we say that s5e4 Spanakopita! was not intended to take place in October specifically and it was an oversight, then I feel safe to assume the warm weather we see after s5e1 What Color Is Your Cleansuit? indicates that we've moved onto spring or summer, still in Venture Bros Year 4. 

S5e5 O.S.I. Love You - Hank’s limbs atrophied from wearing the strength suit he found in S5e3 SPHINX Rising for “weeks”. 

S5e6 Momma's Boys - Hank tells Dermott “Last year…” and references the events of s4e5 The Revenge Society which took place in Venture Bros Year 3.

S5e7 Bot Seeks Bot - This episode takes place in July 0004. We see a flashback in S7e3 Arrears in Science which took place the night before Thanksgiving, November 0004.

S5e8 The Devil's Grip - Dean says a third of his age is 6 - indicating he is probably 18. 

All This and Gargantua-2 - Monarch says Rusty “hasn’t paid his electric bill since June.” We know we are in July or August because s5e7 Bot Seeks Bot takes place in July 0004.

Season 6 starts in Venture Bros Year 4, August or September 0004 because we know Dean had applied and enrolled in the Fall Semester. The boys would be 18 years old—3 years since s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean. 

S6e1 Hostile Makeover - Hatred says he's "been waiting to do that (hit Gary) for weeks”, assuming he is referring to the last time he saw Gary in either s5e8 The Devil's Grip.

S6e4 Rapacity in Blue - Takes place on October 7th, 0004. The timestamps are in the top right corner of the security camera videos.

S6e5 Tanks for Nuthin’ - Takes place on October 8th, 0004 the morning after s6e4 Rapacity in Blue.

S7e1 The Venture Bros. & The Curse of the Haunted Problem - This episode takes place the in the days leading up to Thanksgiving, November 0004. We flashback 2 years ago to JJ discovering the Gargantua crash. This implies JJ made this discovery sometime in Venture Bros Year 2.

According to The Art and Making of the Venture Bros. - Rocket is 3 or 4 years old now.

Next, we have a clear time span thanks to s7e3 Arrears in Science. It's Thanksgiving, November 0004. 3 years and 2 months since s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean. 

Time jump to the start of the Spring Semester in s7e4 The High Cost of Loathing, which starts in Venture Bros Year 5, January 0005.

S7e4 High Cost of Loathing - There is a "two months later" time jump at the beginning of the episode.

We are still in Winter Venture Bros Year 5 as of the final episode. In total making the time span from s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean to s7e10 The Saphrax Protocol 3 years and at least 4 months.

Possibility 2 

If we do say it has been another year and s5e4 Spanakopita! takes place in Venture Bros Year 4, October 0004, which means almost everything is pushed back a year. The boys would be 18 years old. 

S5e5 O.S.I. Love You - Hank’s limbs atrophied from wearing the strength suit he found in S5e3 for “weeks”.

S5e6 Momma's Boys - Hank tells Dermott “Last year…” and references the events of s4e5 The Revenge Society which took place in Venture Bros Year 3. That would mean this episode would need to take place between October 23rd, 0004 and December 31st, 0004.

Venture Bros Year 5

S5e7 Bot Seeks Bot - This episode takes place in July 0005. We see a flashback in S7e3 Arrears in Science which took place the night before Thanksgiving, November 0005.

S5e8 The Devil's Grip - Dean says a third of his age is 6 - Dean must be 19 at this point and have rounded 6 years and 3 months down to just 6. 

All This and Gargantua-2 - Monarch says Rusty “hasn’t paid his electric bill since June.” We know we are in July or August because s5e7 Bot Seeks Bot takes place in July 0005. 

Season 6 starts in August or September 0005, because we know Dean had applied and enrolled in the Fall Semester. At this point, the boys would have to be 19 years old. - 4 years since s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean. Overshooting the 2 years and 17 days prediction by a lot.

S6e1 Hostile Makeover - Hatred says he's "been waiting to do that (hit Gary) for weeks”, assuming he is referring to the last time he saw Gary in either s5e8 The Devil's Grip.

S6e4 Rapacity in Blue - Takes place on October 7th, 0005. 

S6e5 Tanks for Nuthin’ - Takes place on October 8th, 0005 the morning after s6e4 Rapacity in Blue.

S7e1 The Venture Bros. & The Curse of the Haunted Problem - This episode takes place the in the days leading up to Thanksgiving, November 0005. We flashback 2 years ago to JJ discovering the Gargantua crash. This implies JJ made the discovery sometime in Venture Bros Year 3 before S4e15 The Silent Partners.

According to The Art and Making of the Venture Bros. - Rocket is 3 or 4 years old now.

Again, we have a clear time span thanks to s7e3 Arrears in Science. It's Thanksgiving, November 0005. 4 years and 2 months since s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean. 

Finally, we have the time jump to the start of the Spring Semester in s7e4 The High Cost of Loathing, which would start in Venture Bros Year 6, January 0006.

S7e4 High Cost of Loathing - There is a "two months later" time jump at the beginning of the episode.

We are still in Winter 0006 as of the final episode. Making the time span in this possibility, from s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean to s7e10 The Saphrax Protocol, 4 years and at least 4 months. 

NOTES AND THOUGHTS

S1e1 Dia de los Dangerous - Presumably this episode takes place on Dia los Muertos, November 1st. Monarch states that he's in Mexico to find his foster parents. Butterflies arrive in Mexico around early November. Because this happened before Orpheus' prediction, it could be plausible that there is almost a year between the first episode and s1e13 Are You There God, It's Me, Dean. It is probably just as likely that Doc and Jackson were not considering keeping to a set time frame until much later in the series.

JJ did not appear in the season 1 Christmas Special. The boys are alive. Rusty was not on his journey running away from the boys' deaths. I wonder if this means s1e13 Return to Spider-Skull Island took place after Christmas. I am also not considering the weather as a determining factor here because I remember hearing about issues with animating different backgrounds in the earlier seasons. 

If it helps, I placed the boy’s birthday on the Ides of March (March 15th) to help me keep track of things. It’s both a significant historical date and a 70’s rock band. Plus I wanted them to be Pisces :)

I also stuck the Monarch's birthday on September 30th because that's when Don became Venturion. I think it's poetic.

Doc and Jackson are phenomenal writers and I’m sure if they were to address this in the show they would find a way for it to make sense that we would all enjoy. I had a lot of fun doing this. I love digging deep into my favorite show and piecing together what I find 💛 Go Team Venture!

[37sommz]

❁ : reality check . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: angst angst angst. ✼. wc: 6k.

any signs of an improved positioning at mclaren are dashed to the wind during the second race of the season. the bright jeddah lights only further expose the cracks in the mclaren livery.

✼. warnings: language, mclaren team orders.

✼. notes: the start of a painful arc for michaela lmao, just know it gets significantly worse for her at mclaren <3

000.⠀⠀MARCH 25, 2022    ›    Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

Michaela tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she approached the final corner of the third practice session at the 2022 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. The sun was a fiery ball in the cloudless sky, beating down on the asphalt and making the track sizzle. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she remained focused, her eyes darting between the tachometer and the road ahead. The roar of the engine filled her ears, a familiar sound she had grown to crave.

As the session ended, she pulled into the pit lane, the tires screeching against the concrete. Her chief engineer, Rob, greeted her with a nod as she climbed out of the cockpit. His expression was a mix of satisfaction and concern. "Good job, Mick," he said, handing her a towel. "You're looking strong out there, but we need to find some more pace. The Bulls are looking really sharp today."

Michaela took the towel and wiped her face, her heart still racing from the adrenaline. "I know," she replied. "I'll push harder in qualifying."

000.⠀⠀MARCH 26, 2022    ›    Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

Qualifying the next day was a nail-biter. The track cooled down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the circuit. The final moments approached, and she found herself in a fierce battle lodged in the timings between Ferrari and Alpine. As the checkered flag loomed closer, she pulled out an amazing lap, one that surprised even herself. Her McLaren shot up to second on the grid, just behind Sergio Perez's Red Bull. The team erupted in cheers as she pumped her fist in the air.

At the press conference, the atmosphere was charged. Journalists threw questions at the top three qualifiers: Sergio, Michaela, and Charles. Her heart raced as she fielded questions about tire strategy and her thoughts on the upcoming race. Then, the moment came. A journalist she didn't recognize leaned into the microphone and asked, "Michaela, can you tell us about your sister Courtney's relationship with Daniel Ricciardo? How does that affect your dynamic in the paddock?"

Courtney had accompanied Daniel to Jeddah for the first time since they began their relationship last year. Her presence alone had not been enough to catch the attention of the media and their drama-seeking journalists. Instead, it was the blue Alpine cap that rested upon her head that drew their attention. The blue was unmistakably different from Michaela's orange McLaren hats.

Michaela felt the temperature in the room shift as the journalist's question hung in the air. She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'd prefer to keep my focus on the race and my own performance," she said firmly. "Courtney's personal life is exactly that—personal. It doesn't affect my driving, and it shouldn't be a topic here." The journalist looked taken aback, but she held her ground, refusing to indulge in the gossip. "Let's focus on the race, shall we?" 

The room went quiet, and she felt the tension thicken. The journalist struggled to find his words as Michaela continued to stare him down from her place on the media couch.

After the press conference, her phone buzzed with messages from Daniel and Courtney. "Thanks for that," Daniel's text read. "Could've gone sideways real quick." Courtney's message was similar, expressing her gratitude for the protection. Despite the annoyance, a small smile played on her lips. It was moments like these that reminded her of the highlights of her career.

That night, as she lay in her hotel room, she heard a soft knock on the door. To her surprise, it was Jenson, his grin as wide as when he won his first championship. They had agreed to keep their relationship under wraps to avoid unnecessary distractions, but seeing him here made her heart skip a beat. "Couldn't stay away, huh, JB?" she teased, letting him in.

"I had to wish you luck in person," he said, his eyes twinkling. He leaned in for a kiss, and she melted into his embrace, feeling his warmth and the comfort of his presence. The weight of the race weekend lifted off her shoulders for a brief moment in his arms. "I'm feeling another win in the air," he murmured conspiratorially. Michaela, ever superstitious, could only scoff shyly at his words, choosing instead to draw his lips back to hers.

"I won't be able to stay for long," Jenson hummed into her hair. "Don't want to distract you from tomorrow."

Michaela pulled away with a nod, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "As if you could," she teased, taking in his disheveled, jetlagged appearance. Despite their efforts to keep their relationship a secret, they couldn't resist the occasional stolen moment together. "But, I guess you're right. I'm going to be fighting for my life between Checo and Charles."

Jenson's eyes searched hers, a hint of worry flickering. "You've got this," he said with a firm nod. "Just remember, it's not just you out there. You've got a whole team backing you, and they want to see you on that top step more than anyone else."

"More than you?" She snicked as her fingers danced over the five-o-clock shadow dusting his jaw and spilling over onto his cheeks.

"Well, almost." His laugh was soft, a gentle rumble in his chest. "But I'll be watching from the Sky Box, cheering louder than anyone."

Michaela's eyes searched his, and she knew he meant it. His support had been unwavering, even if the world wasn't ready for their relationship to be in the spotlight. "Thank you, babe."

000.⠀⠀MARCH 27, 2022    ›    Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

The morning of the race dawned hot and dry, the air thick with anticipation. As she suited up in the garage, the smell of the city's surroundings filled her nostrils, a scent that she had come to associate with victory. The engineers made their final checks, and she took her place in the cockpit, feeling the car come alive around her.

The start of the race was clean, and she slotted into second place behind Sergio with ease. For the first stint, she held her position, her tires gripping the track like a vice. Her heart raced as the laps ticked by, the sound of the cars a harmony in her ears. But as the race progressed, the heat began to take its toll. The tire degradation was higher than expected, and she felt the car slipping away from her, especially under braking.

When Nicolas Latifi crashed and the safety car was deployed, her engineers told her to stay out on track. The pit wall was insistent, saying they were playing the long game. Her heart sank as she watched her rivals peel into the pit lane.

With a frustrated hiss, she questioned the decision of her team's strategy, "My tires are shot, and I'm losing time!"

Rob, her engineer, remained calm over the radio, "Mick, hold your position. We need to maximize your stint and we’ll pit you at the exact right time." When he was met with silence from the Australian, he added additional context. "If we play this right, you can win this race."

But as the safety car pulled away and the green lights signaled the restart, the truth of her situation hit her like a sledgehammer. The Mercedes of George Russell in front of her streaked away, the gap between them widening like a chasm with every passing corner. Her tires screamed in protest, the grip she once had now a distant memory. Each time she tried to push, the car would wobble, threatening to take her out of the race entirely.

Her engineer's voice grew more urgent in her ear. "Michaela, keep pushing! You're outside the pit window. Just a few more laps."

Michaela gritted her teeth, the car's handling deteriorating with every passing second. "I can't keep up like this," she replied through gritted teeth. "If we don't pit, I'll crash."

Her voice grew more desperate as she felt her grip on the race slipping away. "Tires are gone, Rob! I need to pit now."

The team's response was a tense silence, then, "Pit now, Mick. In and out. We're going for a fresh set of hards." Michaela nearly rolled her eyes at the defeat in Rob's voice, the weight of her pleas settling in as she rounded the last few corners before the pit entry.

In a flash of orange, she peeled into the pit lane, the crew springing into action around her. The tires were slapped onto her car with practiced accuracy, the milliseconds ticking by like hours. Her heart sank further as she saw her position drop down the order. When she re-joined the race, she had fallen to eighth. Only six laps remained, and she was nowhere near the podium she had been fighting for.

Her engineer's voice crackled over the radio. "Mick, we're issuing team orders. You're to overtake Esteban but keep behind Lando. You're the better defender. We need to protect our position."

Michaela's jaw clenched around the mouthpiece. "But I can pass Lando and chase Russell for 4th!"

"Negative," Rob responded firmly. "Prioritize passing Esteban and hold your position behind Lando."

Michaela's knuckles tightened further around the steering wheel. The injustice of the situation burned in her chest, but she knew arguing with the team was futile. With a deep breath, she begrudgingly accepted the order and focused back on the track. Esteban was in her sights, and she had to make a move. She waited for the right moment, then pounced, her car screaming as it flew past the Alpine.

Her eyes flicked to her mirrors, expecting to see Ocon falling behind. But instead, she saw his navy blue car approaching with alarming speed.

"What the hell?" she muttered under her breath. She knew the Alpines were fast in Jeddah, but she didn't anticipate Esteban to be so aggressive. "Keep it clean, Ocon," she warned, her voice tight as she muttered the words under her breath. Her warning went unheard. Esteban's car was all over hers, pushing her to the edge of the track. Her tires screeched as she fought to keep control, the heat from the asphalt rising like waves around her.

The team's voice crackled in her ear, "Michaela, hold your position." The warning came as if Rob had read her mind. If Esteban were to come even a hair closer to her under the breaking, the nose of his French car would be right under the tail of her McLaren.

Michaela's eyes flicked to her dashboard, the gap between her and Lando steadily closing. Her teeth ground together in frustration. The Englishman was making no effort to increase his pace, even if just to help her out.

"Why am I being held up?" she demanded.

"Michaela," Rob's voice came through, potentially as frustrated as she was. "We need you to hold onto your position," Rob replied, his tone straightforward but strained. "Concentrate on Esteban please."

Michaela bit back an objection, knowing the situation was already tense enough. Instead, she focused on the task at hand. Esteban was relentless, his car a constant presence in her mirrors. The tension grew palpable until she could almost feel the heat of his exhaust.

With four laps to go, she had had enough. "If Esteban lunges at me again, I'm going for it," she announced over the radio, her voice tight with determination. "Lando needs to get out of the way or we're both out of this race."

"Negative, Michaela," Rob's voice was stern. "Stay put."

Michaela's eyes flicked to the dashboard. The gap to Lando was practically nonexistent. Esteban's relentless pressure was getting to her. The Frenchman's impatience grew more apparent with each corner, his car nibbling at hers every chance he got. The tension mounted until it was almost unbearable, almost choking her with impatience.

As they approached the final corner of the 46th lap, Esteban made his move, darting to the inside. But he'd made a mistake. He'd overcooked it, and now he was too close for comfort. In a split second, her instincts took over. She jerked the wheel to the right, cutting him off, and took the corner with the precision of a fighter pilot. The crowd held their breaths as the two cars danced a dangerous dance, their paint almost touching.

"Michaela, what are you doing?" Rob's voice was sharp in her ear.

Her heart racing, she shot back, "Making sure I don't get taken out of this fucking race!" She glanced in her mirrors, expecting to see Esteban's car in a cloud of dust and gravel, but somehow he managed to stay on track. The move had been risky, but it was the only option she had.

The team was furious. "Michaela, that was unprofessional," Rob barked over the radio. "We need you to calm down and bring it home." 

At first, she could not comprehend why Rob was so angry with her. The move, though sudden, had kept her out of the barriers of the Jeddah Corniche Circuit. But as she glanced in her left mirror she realized the source of the engineer's anger. Lando's helmet stared back at her as his head whipped back and forth between the back of her car and the front of Esteban's. The three of them were now nose to tail with Michaela out in front, the podium a distant memory.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the straight ahead. "Tell Lando I apologize," she murmured into the microphone. But she didn't truly mean it. The fire in her belly had been lit and she wasn't about to let it die out now. "But if he can't keep up, I'm not waiting around."

Her radio crackled with Zak Brown's voice, the McLaren team principal's tone a mix of annoyance and disappointment. "Michaela, please give the position back to Lando."

Michaela clenched her jaw, the taste of a podium now replaced with the bitter taste of defeat. With gritted teeth, she responded, "But I've been faster this entire race."

"It's not about speed right now," Zak said, his voice firm. "It's about the team. We need those points. Do it, Mick." 

She gritted her teeth, trying to push aside the anger bubbling inside. The podium was lost, and now she was fighting for scraps. She carried on her race without responding to the team's CEO. She knew there would be hell to pay for her attitude during the race but as the laps remaining counted down, she couldn't help but heed the devil on her shoulder telling her to push it further.

She could hear the frustration in Rob's voice as he relayed her new position to her. "You're in sixth now, Mick. Just keep it clean please." The words stung like a slap.

The remaining laps were a blur of orange and blue. She pushed the McLaren to its limits, feeling the g-forces pressing her into the seat. The tires screeched in protest, but she was relentless. Esteban was now the one under pressure, his car visibly struggling with the wear from their intense battle. With each corner, she felt the gap between herself and Lando growing, but she knew it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for her ego.

As they approached the straight for the final two laps, she could picture the checkered flag in the distance, taunting her. The crowd's roar grew louder, a song of engines and cheers that seemed to fuel her determination. The gap between her and Lando was now stable, but she couldn't help the burning in her chest, the desire to push ahead.

Her thoughts raced as the laps ticked down.

Michaela felt the pressure building in her chest, the taste of failure bitter on her tongue. But she couldn't let it get to her. Not now. She had to push through, had to keep her head in the game. Her eyes flicked to the pit board, the words blurring together as she took in the information. "Fuel level okay, tire degradation stable, no issues." The calmness of the team's voice was in stark contrast to the chaos in her mind.

"Michaela, we will have a conversation after the race," Andreas Seidl's voice was clear, completely devoid of the emotion held in Zak and Rob's voices. Again, she left the message hanging in the air, giving no indication she heard the promise.

Michaela could feel the tension in the air as she took the final corner and crossed the finish line in sixth place. The cheers from the crowd were muffled in her ears as she pulled into the pit lane, her thoughts racing as she killed the engine. She knew she had let her emotions get the better of her, but she couldn't help the feeling of injustice that weighed on her.

As she climbed out of the car, the heat of the day enveloped her in a sticky embrace. The cameras flashed, and the journalists clamored for her attention. She offered them a forced smile, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the race.

Her team's debrief was short and tense. The engineers avoided eye contact, and she could feel the disapproval radiating from them. "We'll discuss this in Surrey," was all that was said before she was ushered into a quiet corner of the garage.

Zak Brown, her team principal, approached her with a look that could make a seasoned racer quake in their boots. Michaela stood tall against the American, the top of her head a handful of centimeters above his own even without the added height of her loose curls.

"Michaela, in my office, now," he said curtly, his voice cutting through the din of the garage like a knife.

Her heart sank as she followed him, the weight of her McLaren cap feeling heavier than usual. She knew she had crossed a line, but the anger still burned in her chest. They entered the small, air-conditioned space, and the door slammed shut behind them. The coolness of the room was a stark contrast to the heated tension that had built up between her and the team.

"Michaela," Zak began, his voice tight with repressed emotion. "What was that out there?"

Michaela's jaw set as she stared him down. "I was racing. What did you expect?"

Zak's eyes flashed with anger, but he took a deep breath before responding. "I expect a team player, Michaela. Someone who follows orders, not a loose cannon endangering our strategy and our drivers' positions."

Michaela's eyes narrowed. "My tires were gone. The strategy was already ruined when you kept me out under the safety car. I was fighting for what I had left."

"And in doing so, you compromised Lando's race," he fired back. "We had a plan, and you threw it out the window."

Michaela's hands flailed at her sides. "A plan that was flawed from the start!" she retorted. "My tires were shot. You knew that. And yet, you made me stay out, and for what? Sixth place?" She huffed as her arms crossed over her chest. "I was in a podium position before you threw it all away!"

Zak leaned forward, his palms flat on the desk. "You know the politics of this sport, Mick. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the greater good. For the team."

Michaela felt the anger bubbling up again, refusing to understand his point. "I'm aware," she said through gritted teeth. "But you don't sacrifice your faster driver to play tag with the others."

Zak's eyes searched hers, trying to read the emotions behind her brown eyes. "You need to learn to trust us, Mick. We're all in this together."

Michaela took a deep breath, the adrenaline of the race still coursing through her veins. "I do trust you," she said, her voice strained. "But I'm not going to be the sacrificial lamb every time the strategy doesn't play out perfectly. You know what I’m capable of doing completely on my own in the car. You keep sacrificing my race knowing that I’ll pull points out of my arse every time."

"This isn't about strategy," Zak's voice was firm. "It's about following orders. You had a direct order to hold position, and you disobeyed."

Michaela felt the heat rising to her cheeks. "I was fighting for a podium," she said, her voice low. "You took that away from me and parked me behind Lando. Meanwhile, Ocon's up my arse for 10 laps." She paused, her eyes boring into Zak's. "What would you have done?"

Zak leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "What I expect from you is to be a professional, to respect the team's decisions, and to bring home the points we need." He paused, his gaze never wavering. "If you can't do that, then maybe McLaren isn't the right place for you."

The words hung in the air, a silent bomb that exploded in her chest. The room felt smaller, the air thicker with each beat of her racing heart. "Is that a threat?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Zak's gaze was unwavering. "It's a reality check," he said firmly. "We need drivers who are willing to work as part of the team. If you can't do that, then we'll have to consider other options for next season."

Michaela's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. She knew her value in the sport. Her talent had taken her to the pinnacle of motorsport, and she wasn't about to let a bad strategy call and a poorly-handled team order ruin her career. "Other options?" she repeated, her voice like a coiled spring ready to snap. "Like who? Latifi?" She scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

Zak's expression remained stoic. "Don't push me, Michaela," he warned. "You're not the only one with offers on the table."

Michaela's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and defiance. "Is that right?" she retorted. "Well, maybe it's time we had a real conversation about my ‘offers’."

The room grew tense as the unspoken words hung in the air. She knew her worth and wasn't about to let them push her around. McLaren was not Ferrari and she was two years removed from the conversation that haunted her every moment of every day. The stakes were high, but so was her pride.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she glanced down to see a call from Jenson. She quickly silenced it, knowing she couldn't deal with him right now. The urge to throw something across the room was strong, but she had to keep her cool. Instead, she turned her focus back to the stern face of Zak Brown.

"Look, I know I screwed up," she admitted, her voice tight with tension. "But I had to do something. If you can't see that, then I'm not sure why you keep me here."

Zak's expression didn't soften. "You're here because you're fast, Mick. But speed alone doesn't win championships. You need to learn to work with the team. We're not at the top yet, and to get there you and Lando will need each other."

Michaela took a moment to digest his words. The truth stung, but she knew he wasn't wrong. "Fine," she said, her voice tight. "But you can't expect me to just accept being held back like that. It's not right for either of us."

"We're a team, Mick," Zak's tone had softened slightly. "We win together, we lose together. Sometimes that means making tough calls. But you have to trust that we're making them for the greater good."

Michaela took a deep breath, the fight draining from her. "I get it," she said, though her voice was filled with the weight of her disappointment. "But you have to understand how it feels when you're out there, fighting for something that you know you could have easily had."

Zak's eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of understanding. "We all want the same thing," he said, his voice softer now. "We want to win. But we can't do it alone."

Michaela nodded, the anger subsiding into a dull ache. "I know," she said, her voice a whisper. "But sometimes it feels like I'm fighting Lando's battles and not my own."

Zak leaned back in his chair, his face etched with concern. "You're both important to this team, Mick. We need both of you firing on all cylinders. But you're right, we can't keep playing this game of musical chairs with you two. We'll sit down after the season, review what happened today, and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"After the season?" She whispered, eyes shining in disbelief. With a steadying breath, she chose her next words carefully. "My contract expires in Abu Dhabi. If you can't make up your mind, like I said, I have options."

Zak's gaze sharpened. "Your contract is our top concern. Focus on the races ahead, and we'll talk about priorities before the season’s over." His tone was final, but the flicker of doubt in his eyes was not lost on her.

Michaela nodded, swiping a stray curl from her forehead. "Fine," she said, her voice tight. "But if I'm going to be fighting for the team, I need the team to fight for me."

Zak nodded, his gaze still doubtful. "I understand," he said. "Now go cool off, and we'll talk more after the race weekend."

Michaela turned and left the office, her heart racing as she walked through the garage. The sounds of the team working on the cars echoed around her, but she was in her own world, lost in thought. Her relationship with McLaren had always been complicated, but she had never felt so at odds with them before. She knew her disobedience was a risk, but she couldn't just sit back and watch her chances slip away without a fight.

The paddock was a blur of sponsor banners and team personnel as she made her way back to her motorhome. She needed to be alone, to think. The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against it, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She felt the weight of the team's disappointment and the fear of what her future might hold.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lando.

What the fuck was that???

His anger was palpable through the screen. She rolled her eyes, typing a quick response.

Piss off.

But she didn't hit send. Instead, she tossed the phone on the couch and stalked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. The cool liquid did little to ease the heat of anger and frustration burning within her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to center herself. When she opened them again, she saw her reflection in the chrome of the fridge door, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across her face.

Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm, swirling with the memories of the race, the team's betrayal, and the looming conversation with Jenson she hadn't had the guts to take. She knew he would understand her anger, her need to push back. But she also knew he'd be worried about her, about her being distracted.

Michaela took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Her heart was racing, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She had to call him back, had to explain. She couldn't ignore his messages forever. She picked up the phone and dialed his number, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly as the promise of his warm British accent eased her racing mind.

"Hey," she began, her voice softer than she had intended.

"Hey," Jenson's voice was filled with concern. "What happened out there? I watched the whole thing. That podium was right there."

Michaela sighed, leaning against the cool metal of the fridge. "You know how it goes," she said, trying to keep the anger from her voice. "Team orders. Fucked strategy."

"They're not always right, love," Jenson said gently. "But you've got to play the game."

Michaela scoffed. "I know," she said, the frustration clear in her voice. "But when you're out there, and you know you can win, it's hard to hold back."

"I get it," Jenson said, his voice soothing. "But you're smarter than that. You know you can't win them all."

Michaela took a sip of water, the cold liquid barely quenching the venom in her voice. "This one was so close," she said, the anger still raw. "Until they decided to throw it away so I could help Lando out."

"You know it's not personal, Mick," Jenson said, his voice a gentle reminder of the harsh reality of the sport. "It's just business."

Michaela nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Yeah, I know," she replied, her voice tight. "But it feels personal when I'm the one left holding all the blame."

"They're just trying to manage the situation, love," Jenson's voice was calm and rational, a learned approach to the storm of emotions swirling within her. "You know how it is. Sometimes you have to make the tough calls."

Michaela's grip on the water bottle tightened. "But why me?" she demanded, the frustration bubbling over. "Why am I always the one who has to make the sacrifice?"

"Because you're the strongest, Michaela," Jenson's voice was firm. "You can handle it. You're the one who can bring home the points they need."

Michaela let out a frustrated sigh, her grip on the water bottle loosening slightly. "It just doesn't feel fair," she murmured.

"I know," Jenson said sympathetically. "But you're in a tough position. You're fighting for yourself and for the team. Sometimes those goals don't align."

Michaela nodded, her reflection in the fridge door looking tired and defeated. "I just don't know if I can keep doing this," she whispered. "The season's barely started and I'm already fighting the team just to do the things I know I can."

Jenson's voice grew more serious. "You're not alone in this, Mick. You've got me, you've got Guido, and you've got options. Don't let them push you around."

Michaela felt a glimmer of hope in the pit of her stomach. Options. She had options. And she wasn't going to let McLaren bully her into second place behind Lando. She took a deep breath, feeling the coolness of the motorhome's air-conditioning on her flushed cheeks. "I know," she said, her voice stronger. "I'll talk to Guido, and see what he thinks."

Guido was her loyal manager, a shrewd Italian with a keen sense of Formula 1 politics. He'd been her rock since the early days, navigating her through the treacherous waters of contract negotiations and political games. If anyone could help her figure this out, it was him.

Michaela took a moment to compose herself before calling him. "Guido," she began, her voice a mix of frustration and determination. "We need to talk."

Guido's response was measured. "Hello to you too, Michaela."

"You watched the race," she stated, not bothering with pleasantries. "Where do I go from here?"

Guido's sigh was audible over the line. "You've got two choices, cara. You either suck it up and deal with it, or you start looking elsewhere."

Michaela's eyes narrowed as she paced the small space of the motorhome. "Looking elsewhere isn't exactly ideal, is it?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Ideal is relative in this business," Guido said, his tone unwavering. "But if you're not happy, you can't perform. And if you're not performing, the team won't be happy either. It's a delicate balance."

Michaela stopped pacing, her eyes focused on a point in the middle of the floor. "I know," she said, her voice tight. "But what do I do now?"

Guido was silent for a moment, the crackle of the line the only sound between them. "You've got a good relationship with the team," he said finally. "But you can't let them push you around like this. You need to sit down with Zak, with the team, and lay out your expectations. Make it clear that you're here to win, not just to make up the numbers."

Michaela nodded, her mind racing. "And if they don't listen?" She asked, the fire of defiance burning in her eyes.

Guido's response was swift and firm. "Then we explore those other options," he said. "But for now, focus on the next race. Show them that you're not just defiant to be defiant. Prove your worth, and the power will shift back in your favor."

Michaela nodded, the gravity of the situation settling in her bones. "Alright," she said, her voice a mix of frustration and resolve. "I'll talk to them, lay it out. But if it doesn't change, then we're looking elsewhere."

Guido's response was swift and firm. "Good," he said. "I'm tired of the dreadful UK weather, to be honest, this might be a good change for us." He chuckled with an air of mischief to his words.

Michaela managed a small smile. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she cautioned, though the thought of a change was tempting. "First, I need to have that talk with Zak. And then we'll see where it goes from there."

Guido's chuckle turned serious. "Just remember, you're the asset here, not them. Don't let them forget it."

Michaela took another deep breath, feeling a surge of determination. "I won't," she promised, ending the call. She took a moment to collect herself before walking out of the motorhome, ready to face the media and the team with a newfound sense of resolve.

The press pen was a minefield of questions about her decision to ignore team orders and the state of her relationship with Lando. She navigated them with a calmness she didn't feel, keeping her answers short and focused on the race ahead. When asked about her future with McLaren, she replied with a polished smile, "I'm committed to giving my all to the team this season. After that, we'll see what the future holds."

Once the press conference concluded, she sought refuge in the team's garage, surrounded by the familiar hum of her car being dissected by engineers. Rob, her trusted engineer, met her with a furrowed brow. "What's the damage?" she asked, referring not just to her car, but to her standing within the team.

"It's... a bit tense," Rob said, his voice tight. "But let's focus on the positives. Your driving was phenomenal, especially that move on Esteban. You really showed your grit."

Michaela nodded, acknowledging the compliment, but the conversation with Guido played in her mind like a broken record. Her future in McLaren was no longer a given. "I know," she said, her voice steady. "But I need to speak with Zak and Andreas again. I can't keep doing this."

"You're not wrong," Rob admitted, his eyes on the data screens. "But timing is everything. Give it a day or two, let the dust settle."

Michaela nodded, though she wasn't convinced. The sting of today's race was still fresh, and the thought of waiting only added to the frustration boiling in her veins. "I'm sorry for putting you in that position," she said, her voice genuine. "I got caught up in my frustration and took out on you. I'm sorry."

Rob gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Mick," he said, his eyes lifting from their focus on the screens. "And just between the two of us, I would've done the same thing." The show of support was accented with a cheeky wink, a silent laugh escaping through their noses in amusement.

Michaela couldn't help but feel a little relieved by his understanding, but the weight of the day's events didn't entirely lift. She nodded, taking another deep breath. "Thanks, Rob," she said, her voice sincere. "I just need to figure out what's next."

"You've got this," Rob said, patting her on the shoulder before returning to the car. She watched him for a moment, his movements efficient and focused. Then, with a sigh, she turned and made her way out of the garage, back into the glaring lights of the paddock.

[blastnews]

The fiery apocalypse in California can be seen from space. Fire has consumed schools and stately homes

New satellite imagery has shown the vast extent of the damage caused by the widespread wildfires in California. For example, the famous Los Angeles neighbourhood of Pacific Palisades and a coastal residence in Malibu have been reduced to ash and charred rubble.

In California, seven people have died so far this week during widespread wildfires, more than 10 000 buildings have been destroyed and at least 180 000 residents have been evacuated, The Guardian reported.

On Tuesday, hurricane-force winds drove hot embers through the air, igniting block after block. In the days that followed, the flames destroyed an area of about 45 square miles (117 km²). Late Thursday night, five fires were still raging around Los Angeles, three of them completely out of control.

Newly released satellite images have shown the extent of the destruction caused by the Pacific Palisades fire. The coastline along Malibu's famous Malibu neighborhood was completely blackened and buildings along the beach burned to the ground. More than half a dozen schools were damaged or destroyed in the Pacific Palisades neighborhood alone.

Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass said the new fire, dubbed Kenneth, which originated Thursday afternoon in the San Fernando Valley near the West Hills neighborhood, was expected to 'spread rapidly due to high winds.'

In Altadena, over the mountains north of Los Angeles, where a wildfire called Eaton has spread, satellite images show rows of streets with the rubble of charred houses, smoke from nearby fires still billowing in the air. On Wednesday, the streets were filled with ash, buildings still ablaze. Authorities said on Thursday that previous estimates put the number of destroyed buildings at 4 000 - 5 000.

Pasadena Fire Chief Chad Augustin said the city's water system was at its limits and was further hampered by power outages. Even without those problems, however, firefighters would have been unable to stop the blaze as embers fanned by intense winds ignited block after block.

Firefighters made significant gains Thursday in slowing the spread of the Eaton and Palisades fires, although officials said both fires are 0% extinguished. Firefighters also knocked down a blaze in the Hollywood Hills.

The fires broke out at a particularly critical time for Southern California. In fact, there hasn't been any significant rainfall since October. Strong Santa Ana winds brought dry desert air from the east toward the coastal mountains and helped fuel the fires.

Scientists say the fires, which broke out outside of their typical season, are another example of extreme weather that is likely to continue to escalate in the coming decades as global temperatures continue to rise.

Source: blesk.cz

Picture: illustrative

[mintnrainbow]

YOUUU❗️❗️❗️❗️have any INTERESTIN' AU,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i would like to know more about the goobers,,,,,,,,,,, purdy please😁😁😁😁 gib lore (if you can) (((ALSO REFS 4 THE GOOBERS WOULD BE AWESOME SAUCE TOO)))

Your getting a yap sandwich full of usless information 🗣🗣 it's a very long post geez sorry bro 😔

Anyway I gunna yap abt da main sillies (Aka Rock, Roll, Blues, Aki, Suna, Daini and 001 (she's a oc :3) )

Refersz image (these r the most recent desgins with all updates n everything 😭) (also uh when they get into da armour, they look just like canon, roll has no armour n I'll put a pic of 001s armour later on in the post)

Stuff abt charecters

Rock- silly, lowkey hates fighting, fights anyway coz uh two is better then one when fighting off the evil robot masterz, has a another soul inside his circuits called ' Mega' (we don't need to worry abt that, 100% not concerning), is friends with aki and bert. No free will, knows he has no free will.

Roll- silly #2, lowkey hatez cleaning buts it's kinda her function to clean and help around the uh well cave, wishes she could fight, lowkey kinda sunas friend. No free will, knows she has no free will.

Blues- Tall, the oldest out of the group, ran away from home and now really misses his dad, he has awful purple eyebags around his eyes due to lack of sleep, this lack of sleep also leads to the bit around his eyes cracking, daini thinks of him as a father figure. 6ft tall. Has free will, believes he has no free will.

Aki- Yeh you've watch da show! U know him!!! He like the same in my au, apart from the fact he carries the emotional baggage of knowing he had been fighting his own brother this entire time and he wishes he could help Daini. He sometimes doesn't get sleep due to visions of war. He has free will, he knows he has free will.

Suna- She's basically the same but she worries about her brothers and tries to help Aki whenever she can. She will fight if needed and goes by the name Zero.

Daini- Starting from the start (This is gonna be a long one), After the hard age, him and aki got upgraded into the armour we see in the flashback, he used to be called 'Kurai', but Sgt Night realised how powerful these robots could be and one night took one (he didn't take both over fear of being caught), then everyday namagem would have to train and Night treated him like a tool, not a son. He grew up to be angry and he had truely nothing, except from Night's promise that he would be known as a liberator of robot kind. All he had was that false hope and a desolate black room to rot in. During Mmfc season 1, 001 starts hanging out with him in secret. When he revealed he was Akis brother at the end of season 1, he and 001 ran away into the mountain. The mountain had a cave system so they could make camp their. He thinks of Blues as a father figure since he never truely had a good father. He thinks of 001 as his favourite person as she seemed the only thing that ever cared about him. He used to have long hair before being kidnapped, but Night chopped it off so it Is now the length of just below his shoulders. His core is cracking and he has many scars across his body. The bottom half of his right arms caseing has fallen off, revealing the mechanics beneath, but he wears a long red fingerless glove to hide most of the broken arm. Has free will, believed he doesn't have free will.

001- My oc who has too many siblings. 000, 002, 003, 004, 005, 006, 009. She also goes by the nickname '01. She wanted to become friends with Daini since it felt as if it was her duty to. She looked after him and treated him as if he was more then a gun. She also calls Daini, 'Day' and idk why I just made that up with no reasoning. Has free will, knows she has free will.

Now this image is 001 in armour

Green

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

At the end of the day btw, my au is about how robots are more then tools and have souls that can be easily corrupted. souls can and can't have free will.

OH YEH, ROCK, ROLL, BLUES, DAINI AND 001 ALL LIVE IN A CAVE 😭😭😭🗣🗣🗣 most important lore trust 😔

Yap over

[kmp78]

Yacht prices... 🛥

So assuming this is their yacht, and the minimum rental during the Christmas season is 1 week, then they paid 2 500 000 bahts for it which is...

And as expected, EVERYTHING is included. 💰

Mmmmmm... petri diiiiiiiish... 😏💦