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#2020 Polo
localsimpissleepy · 16 days
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Sorry for the lack of memes, school has been a pain in the ass-
Anyways, have some memes I made last week-
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haveyouheardthisband · 5 months
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dilaughosaurus · 8 months
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Brand new reference sheets for my fursona Polo!
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Throwback: R.I.P. DJ Polo
Throwback: R.I.P. DJ Polo @LEGENDARYDJPOLO
I was saddened to learn of DJ Polo‘s death yesterday — especially in light of the fact that his former partner Kool G. Rap celebrated his 56th birthday last week. DJ Polo’s work with Kool G. Rap is legendary and influential. And it’s worth checking out because it holds up in a way that a lot of old school hip-hop doesn’t always hold up. Long live DJ Polo!
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radiophd · 8 months
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sweater on polo -- go wild harlem trax
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ollywears · 1 year
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Olly Alexander wearing a Gucci A/W 2020 outfit in an interview for Elton John’s Rocket Hour on Apple Music (February 18, 2021).
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massivenightartisan · 3 months
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covington-shenanigans · 6 months
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so I'm on this app, Marco Polo, where you stay in touch with people by means of sending video messages. (there are probably other features, but I'm a free user, so I remain blissfully ignorant of them.) mostly I use it to annoy my sister. ("BITCH WHAT IF I GOT A PHALLOPLASTY AND HAD A BABY SHOWER FOR MY DICK. WE COULD HAVE ZUCCHINI FRITTERS. DICK-SHAPED PASTA. BANANAS FOSTER. DO U SEE MY VISION")
anyway, during the Hell Year of 2020, I saw my childhood best friend (let's call her Lee) was on this app. and like.
when I say "my childhood best friend", I mean the Weird Girl next door, who saw the Weird Girl that I was. I mean the girl I played with from age five until just shy of eleven, when my family moved away. I mean the girl I played with every day, for hours and hours, making up all kinds of elaborate scenarios involving our menagerie of stuffed animals. there were multiple overlapping, soap opera-style plotlines that lasted for years. there was drama. heartbreak. glory. she was the first friend I remember having. she was the first girl I ever loved, in my five-year-old way.
well, I hadn't seen Lee in at least 20 years and I was like, "holy shit! Lee!!!" so I sent her a "hey, nice to see you here, how you been" message.
again, this was late 2020.
now, I had been on T for a scant three months when I sent the first message, so I was a mere baby child, relative to the gruff manly man I am now. no beard, my voice had only started to wobble, still had tits... you get it. keep this in mind, it'll be important later.
I never heard back from her, but we're both Old, so I was like "eh, she probably forgot she installed the app" and forgot about it. we'd exchanged text messages at some point during the Hell Year, but like many people my age she doesn't really text, and I'm not calling anyone if I don't have to, so our communication had been sporadic, at best.
well. today I got a notification that she sent me a reply on Marco Polo.
I figured, well, she's replying to me 3.5 years late, but better late than never. I have ADHD and no friendship degradation mechanic, so I'm excited! yay! friend! :D
and then I remember. "...oh shit. she doesn't know I'm trans."
so. the thing is. I'm from Mississippi, which is. very very fucking conservative. I know Lee grew up Southern Baptist. I also know she's still living in the same town where we grew up and where she eventually graduated from high school and college. last I checked she was still attending the same Southern Baptist church where she grew up and her remaining living parent is still living in Lee's childhood home.
so this is either going to be Fine or it's going to be a disaster. lol.
in thinking it through, I figure either she's seen my updated profile pic, where I have the beard etc., or she hasn't. so either she's going to acknowledge this change or she isn't. okay. these are the possibilities. so I watch the message.
...the secret third option is... she seems to not realize when I sent the message? "sorry, I missed this when I was at work!" girl. what? I mean, you probably did miss it while you were at work... three and a half years ago. possibly she meant to reply to someone else and got me instead?
whatever. who knows. doesn't matter.
because I have the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing in the world now
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caesium-55 · 6 months
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—seven days. [ vii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: that's it folks. welcome to the end. peace out (my hand is hurting like a bitch) NOT EDITED NOT BETA READ EXCUSE THE MISTAKES
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm i hope i didn't forget anyone
masterlist.
max: ANSWER ME
max: [NAME] I SWEAR TO GOD
max: I’LL FLY TO TEXAS RIGHT NOW I SWEAR
max: THIS IS ALL FUN AND GAMES FOR YOU ISNT IT
max: YOU FUCK ME AND THEN YOU LEAVE
max: YOU'RE ALL FUCKING THE SAME ALWAYS LEAVING ME
max: FUCK YOU [NAME]
max: TALK TO ME YOU COWARD
max: EXPLAIN YOURSELF
max: IM GOING INSANE HERE
Max has visited your apartment a total of two times since he’s given you the keys. The first time—Max remembers it was in early January 2020. You held a housewarming party disguised as a little lunch get-together as a thank-you for his gift. Daniel and him as well as two of your former roommates, Max recognizes them as Julia and Kendall from the PR team, are the only ones invited. You cooked pasta. Your mother’s recipe, you claimed. It easily became one of Max’s favorite dishes in the world and he requests you to cook it from time to time.
The second time, Max remembers going there again after the Monaco Grand Prix 2021. It’s been only a week after your breakup with Leo and four races before the incident with the Hamilton fan in Silverstone. The team holds a dinner to celebrate Max taking P1 and usually, you’re present in these types of things—the after parties and team dinners and all forms of team celebrations in general because you like celebrations but you're nowhere to be found.
Max finishes dinner quickly and excuses himself to Horner. He grabs a beer and drives himself to your apartment, because he knows you’re definitely not staying in the hotel with the team.
When you’re sad, you tend to hide away. It's an annoying habit. You make it your career to dig your nose into everyone’s problem—Max’s most especially—and provide everyone with the help you can offer. It's your love language, Max thinks, to be insanely helpful to everyone but the moment that the places switch and you’re the one who needs help, you run away because you refuse to bother everyone else with your problems despite the amount of people who are willing to return the favor you gave them in the past. It is very hypocritical of you.
He knocks on your door. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him. It's an established pattern, a system that works for both of you. You shout for him to wait and Max does so, observing the details of the woodwork in front of him as he waits patiently for you. You have a very nice door.
You open the door. Max’s brows raised slightly at the sight of you. You're still in your Red Bull polo shirt but instead of the pencil skirt you were wearing during the race, you wore short shorts instead. Black, fitted, and they stop a little above your mid-thighs. You're barefoot, too. No YSL heels in sight.
Max turns into a lovely shade of pink. You don't notice it.
You have long legs despite being 5’5” only, which gives off the illusion that you’re very tall when you're actually not. Your body ratio consists of seventy-five percent legs and twenty-five percent upper body. You have lean legs. It's full of childhood scars—thin white lines that are barely noticeable because of how old they are. You have well-built calves and dainty ankles, which look weird but also look right, and your feet are veiny, jagged lines of green blue on skin. Max thinks it's because you wear heels every day.
“Somethin’ wrong, man?” your voice sounds nasal, hoarse, and deep at the same time. Your eyes and nose are red and Max knows full well that you’ve been crying over Leo again and yet you carry yourself as if you're fine, standing in front of him with your shoulders straightened and your tone professional.
Max never liked the bitterness that washes over him whenever he sees you with Leo. But at that moment, he’ll rather endure the bitterness that chokes him until he thinks he’s about to pass out if that makes you alright, if that makes you stop crying.
“I have beer.”
It's a lame thing to say. He should have said something better. He should have asked if you’re alright, should have asked why you were crying, should have asked if there's anything you need him to do just so you’ll feel better. But his mind blanks and he just thrusted the beer forward.
You smile, shaking your head. You take the beer from his hands gratefully, “I have pasta. Wanna go in?”
It's a fair trade. You love beer. He loves your pasta. And so, he entered your apartment.
He faces your door for the third time in 2023. A million thoughts run around his brain per second as his eyes train on the wood patterns of your front door. Dread pools in his stomach as he holds the door knob. He only holds it, not twisting it and pushing it open just yet.
Max is stalling. He knows that. He shouldn't be stalling. He knows that, too.
He dreads what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. He can hear your voice in the back of his skull, saying, “Pussy. You risk your life and drive a rocket ship for a livin’ and you’re afraid of openin’ a damn door?”
Max takes a deep breath and opens the door. Silence and emptiness greets him.
Your apartment has always been bare. You refuse to buy carpets, curtains, houseplants, decorative furnishings or anything that can make your loft apartment seem like someone actually lives there.
(“It's expensive here,” you said.
“I’ll pay,” Max offered.
“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll just bring something from home.”
You never did.)
Max’s feet lead him to your living room. Dust accumulates on top of your glass coffee table and couch. Max remembers them coming along when he bought the apartment. You never got them changed.
His brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the familiar looking box that sits atop the coffee table. He strides towards it, head tilting to read the little pink sticky note attached to it. It reads: Sorry Max, I can't steal more from Kelly.
Max’s entire world crumbles down. He opens the shoe box and sees the shoe, arranged carefully in place.
He hurriedly reaches for the folder next to it and reads the writings inside.
Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.
Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024.
Max keeps re-reading the last two sentences just to make sure he’s reading it correctly.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager.
I resigned, Max.
resigned.
Max hurls the shoe box and it zooms in the air and hits the wall. He fists his hair and pulls. A scream erupts in his throat. The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint but Max cannot bring himself to care. He’s the one whose heart is breaking here.
He grabs the folder. Max feels something fall on his foot. He looks down.
A beaded bracelet. Navy blue and red—the color of Red Bull. There are three white beads in the bracelet and on those three white beads are the letters M and V—his initials—and the number 1—his current number.
Max drops on his knees. He picks up the little thing with trembling hands. He brings the bracelet to his chest and Max falls apart. This time, you’re not here to hold him together.
max: hey im planning to visit the US
max: do you think you can show me around?
Logan Sargeant is a good driver. That's a given. It's his profession. But the way he drives; it's making Max sleepy.
“So….” Logan begins awkwardly. “I’m assuming you're visiting Texas because of [Name].”
Max nods, “Yeah.”
“You're not mad at her, are you?” Logan asks. “For resigning?”
“She told you?”
So you told the American boy but not him? Max cannot help but be offended now.
“Well, I kinda assumed? Liam mentioned it to the other day, who heard the news from his cousin.”
Max’s brows furrow.
“Lawson?”
“Yes, Lawson.”
Max remembers the kid all too well. Liam Lawson has overtaken him in Singapore after all. It's embarrassing. Watch out, Max, you teased him. Liam’s out to get you.
“Liam probably heard it from Leo.”
“Leo?”
Logan is mentioning too many names. Well, it’s just two but two is still many for his brain to comprehend right now.
“Yeah, Leo and Liam are cousins.”
Max pauses.
“Leo and [Name] still talk so I guess [Name] told Leo, who must have mentioned it to Liam, who then mentioned it in the groupchat with me and Osc—are you okay?”
Max tries his hardest not to scream.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “I’m fine. How far are we from Austin?”
They drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Austin.”
“Well, it looks like we’ve just arrived.”
Max is once again offended that Logan knows where you live while he doesn't. Vista Del Pueblo, Logan tells him the name of the place as they hop off the car. It's funny how close you lived from the Circuit of the Americas. No wonder you always requested to be home after the Austin GP before flying off to the next city.
The two-storey yellow and red brick house is empty. Despite that, it looks like a perfect picture of a happy childhood home. The backyard and the patio is wide. Beside the driveway stands an olden tree. Below the tree is a reclining chair that looks like it has gone through a dust storm and a thousand rains.
“It’s empty,” Max announces. Logan nods.
“Yeah.”
Logan ends up approaching an old woman in the neighboring house who was sweeping dust off her porch and asks her if she knows the [Last Name] family’s whereabouts.
“They haven't returned home since Christmas,” she replies. “Everyone in the neighborhood tried contacting them but no one got through. Ever since Julio died… It's like the entire family followed after him.”
Max and Logan stiffen, shocked at the news that's just been revealed.
Julio died….?
Max needs to find you. Urgently. He needs to see if you're okay.
The sun retires for the night and Max decides that it's time for Logan and him to retire as well. Logan drives them to a hotel and Max pays for two rooms despite Logan insisting that he can pay for his own. They grab dinner at the hotel restaurant, in a private area that Max paid for.
“You’re not angry at her, aren't you?” Logan asks for the second time that day. His plate is half empty. Meanwhile, Max’s plate is barely touched. His appetite significantly decreased. He keeps thinking about you, worried about how you're coping with Julio’s death. You are never the best person when it comes to dealing with pain. Physical pain, you can handle. You’re barely fazed when you burn your hand in the oven, when you hit your hip at the corner of the table, when you accidentally get scratches and you don't even notice it until someone points out the blood that terrifyingly drips down your arm. Max can still remember how you dealt with your breakup with Leo. All those nights crying, the unhealthy fixation in work so you won't have any space feeling human emotions, the moments where you disconnect with reality that Max has to pull you out of many times. The death of a father is a million times worse than a breakup. Max imagines a thousand scenarios in his mind. He needs to be with you right now. He needs to make sure you're alright.
“I hope you're not. You obviously are but I still hope you're not,” Logan continues. “She was always going to leave, you know? She told me in January. She told me that she needs to—
Max accidentally throws the glass of water he was holding. It falls onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. Logan stares at Max with his eyes wide. A cleaning crew comes in a hurry and cleans it up. Max doesn't apologize, he only says, “send me the bill later” and sends the crew out. He turns to Logan.
“She needs to what?”
“You're angry.”
You reminded me, Max said in his mind.
“And?” Max raises his brow. “She needs to what?”
Logan lets out a shaky breath, “She needs to become an engineer or else she’ll never forgive herself.”
Manager. Engineer. What's so damn special about that engineering position anyway? Why are you so hell bent on leaving Max? Red Bull pays you more than an engineer. Hell, Max is even willing to raise your salary to the same amount as half of his annual salary in Red Bull if it keeps you from leaving him. Max is willing to pay for your student loans and refund everything you paid to USC during your college years.
Max pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. He’s feeling too many emotions all at once.
“I think it's best if you talk to Leo?” Logan suggests. Max appreciates that he’s trying to be helpful but mentioning Leo brings nothing but more anger in him. Fucking Leo. Why does he know where you are? He’s your fucking ex for god’s sake. Why are you even still talking to your ex? “He’s close with [Name]. I think he can help you.”
Max contemplates.
He doesn't want to ask fucking Leo.
And he’s not that desperate to seek help from him.
Logan writes his number on a table napkin. Max pockets it.
After dinner, Max sits inside his hotel room. He dials the number Logan gave him because if he’ll tell you where you are, he can swallow his pride for a day. It takes three redials and two rings before Leo answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Leo Stark?”
“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”
“It’s Max Verstappen.”
Silence.
“Hello, are you still there?”
Max hears a loud crash followed by a series and a whole lot of ruffling, “Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating that?”
“Max Verstappen.”
“Ah, so I’m not hearing things. I thought I was hearing things. Sorry. Do you wish to talk to James Vowles? I can transfer the call to him.”
“No,” Max says. “I want to talk to you. It's about [Name].”
“Oh.” A pause. “You're going to ask me where she is, aren't you?”
“You're smart.”
“Well, mate, too bad. I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t?”
“I can’t,” he echoes. “I mean I can but I won’t.”
“So you know where she is.” It's not a question. Something bitter rears its ugly head in his stomach. His bitterness and anger now dwarf his worry for you in size. Fuck Logan for reminding him that you always wanted to leave. Fuck Leo for knowing where you are.
“I’m going to ask again and you better give me the answer I want. Where is she?”
“The answer you want?” Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s always what you want. Have you considered what she wants? Does [Name] even want you to find her?”
“You don't know what you're talking about—”
“I do,” Leo interrupts and the way he sounds so sure of himself aggravates Max. “I do, mate. Believe it or not.”
“I see what's happening here,” Max sneers. “I’ve heard you and [Name] broke up because she was prioritizing me over you. Is this it? Are you doing this out of petty jealousy?”
Leo sighs, “You’re making this about you again.”
Max opens his mouth to retort but Leo cuts him off, “Let me get this straight with you, mate. When we were still dating, not once have I been jealous of you. I understood that she works for you and that she has to put you first in certain situations. After all, you’re her job. I’m just the home she returns to after work.”
Max’s jaw clenches. Leo was her home. It was the truth no matter how much Max hated it. Leo does not stop there.
“I have no issue with her focusing on you. The only problem I have with it is her tendency to focus more on you than herself. If you come to her at a very vulnerable time, especially now, there’s a chance that she’s going to focus on you again. She deals with grief in a very unhealthy way and I don't want her to do that. Not when she needs to properly grieve for her father.”
Leo sighs again.
“So please, mate, just this once. Think about what she needs right now and it’s not you.”
You don't need Max.
But Max needs you.
That is one of the most painful truths he’s ever been given.
“She’ll come back. She always does. It may take months. Years, even. Just… Let her grieve and let her pick herself up. There are people who don't want help because they need to do it themselves or else it won't feel fulfilling. [Name] is no different. Also, I’ll be honest with you, mate. I don't want you coming to her before she achieves her dreams. You’re so used to [Name] giving you everything you want that you forgot that she, too, is someone who needs and wants and dreams. She just wanted to be an engineer.”
“And how is this my fault?”
“You knew what she wanted. You agreed to help her achieve it. You didn't allow her to move to Renault. You told her that you’ll ask your team principal after you win and you did win but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”
“I—”
“Who are you to control her dreams? If you love her, you would have asked Horner, at least. She knows you never asked Horner. Maybe she would have never resigned if you tried to talk to Horner, but you let your selfishness win.”
Max feels all breath punched out of his lungs.
“You had the power to ask your team principal yet you didn't and she has to watch you achieve your dreams while she can't. Unfair, don’t you think?”
A pause.
“Just start considering what she feels, mate. That's all.”
“I am considering her. Always.” This is the closest to a love declaration he can admit out loud. The purest form of love is consideration, they say. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel, pays attention to detail, holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you, keeps promises so you won’t be disappointed, that's when you know they love you.
“Are you really?”
Is he really?
“Take care of her for me, Verstappen. Even from afar. You can do that.”
The call ends.
Max stares blankly at the wall, still holding his phone against his ear. Then, he hurls it across the room. He aggressively drags his hand through his face.
Max flies back to Belgium after Austin to spend the rest of his off-season with his mother and sister. He apologizes to Logan for his behavior. Logan is a kind man, he forgives easily. He drives Max to the airport.
The next day, an article is posted, titled—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN.
On New Year's Eve, Kelly messages Max. He can't say that he’s surprised. In truth, he’s been expecting her to message him, whether it's to beg to take her back or to curse him out or to tell him something about Penelope or it's to inform him that she's going to pick up her things in Max’s penthouse in Monaco.
kelly: i sent someone to pick up our things in your place
max: okay
kelly: also
kelly: *sent a photo*
kelly: she apologized for something that's not her fault
kelly: you have a good one
The photo is a screenshot of Kelly’s conversation with you, dated December 30. That was yesterday.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Max looks up to see his mother’s worried face.
“Oh, uh,” he closes his phone and almost drops it. Fucking clumsy fingers, fucking messages, fucking pain. “Nothing, Mum.”
His mother does not look convinced.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? No need to hide it. You may be a world champion now but you’ll always be my baby,” she says. “What does [Name] always say? Even champions are allowed to cry.”
At the mention of you, Max looks away.
“Tell me. Is it Kelly?”
The last time Max cried in his mother’s arms was when he was eleven. Jos always said boys should never cry. That boys who cry are weak. And weak people do not become champions. Max wanted to be a champion so he never allowed himself to be weak. Weakness only becomes a weakness if it is known so he learned to bottle it up over the years and all the bottled grief became anger. Hence, the birth of his serious anger issues.
He’s twenty-seven now with three WDC titles under his belt. He’s outgrown both of his parents in terms of physical size and in career accomplishments but when his mother’s arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to become a little boy again. He allowed himself to be weak.
“She left me, Mum,” Max whispers, hugging her mother close. Sophie rubs his back in soothing circles.
“You’ll find someone, Max,” his mother assures.
“I don't want someone else,” he says. “I want [Name].”
“Oh.”
Sophie blinks.
“Max, you—”
“Please, don't make me say it, Mum,” Max pleads, squeezing his eyes shut. A lone tear drips down his cheek. “Don't make me say I’m in love with [Name].”
Max sends an email to Christian that he’s not going to take a manager in 2024. Christian tells him it's a bad idea, that he needs a manager because he’s becoming busy with his schedules and everyone wants a piece of time with the third-time world driver’s champion but Max cannot care less. If it’s not you, he’d rather have no one at all.
Max wants to learn how to get used without you on his side. He did a little reflecting over pre-season and realized how he had become so dependent on you. He learns the functions of a Google calendar and how to use a Notion page.
Max just knows 2024 is going to be a shitty year for him.
Bahrain, Max remembers, is your favorite track. He doesn't know why you like Bahrain. Bahrain is hot. Bahrain is not as exciting as other race tracks. Personally, he prefers Spa-Francorchamps.
He also remembers that you like watching the air show. You never said it outright but you always have this smile on your face while watching the jets painting the sky with colors so Max kind of figured.
Max snaps a picture of the jets in the sky. He opens his Instagram and searches for your name in his message list. When he presses his conversation with you, the first thing that greets him is his spam of angry messages. All delivered, all unread. The last message, Max remembers, was sent when he visited Austin with Logan to search for you.
max: SO YOU TOLD LEO BUT NOT ME? DO I EVEN MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU?
His finger hovers on the send button. He lets out a sigh and he pockets his phone instead.
Daniel approaches Max after Max wins Jeddah.
“Hey, have you been talking to [Name]?” he asks.
“Not lately,” answers Max. Not since she left me, Max thinks.
Daniel scratches his nape. “I think she's angry at me.”
“You’ve been talking?”
Now, Max is offended. So you talked to Leo, you talked to Kelly, you talked to Daniel, but you made no effort to talk to him? When was he going to get a message from you?
“Well, I kinda…” Daniel pulls out his phone. “I just checked up on her? And she replied like a week later. She sounds kinda angry? I don't know. Do you think she sounds angry?”
Daniel shows Max his last conversation with [Name].
daniel: hey!
daniel: heard from max what happened
daniel: we miss you! you should visit come by in bahrain! the opening is gonna be sick
you: can't sorry
daniel: aww how about jeddah
daniel: i’ll fly you out don't worry about traveling commercial
you: idk man
you: might be too much noise and distraction for you
you: good luck in jeddah tho
A very passive aggressive reply.
“Yeah, she is,” Max supplies.
Max wins Bahrain. Max wins Jeddah. Australia, on the other hand, is a funny story. First, the Williams team pulls an annoying move. Poor Logan. He had to give his car to his teammate and sit out of the race.
Max visits him after the news was officially announced. He finds the American racer in his driver room, sitting sadly on the bed with his head bent low, after asking a rookie Williams mechanic, who trembled at the sight of him.
It's a pitiful looking room. Max has a villa for a driver room. Logan doesn't even have a closet for his overalls, just a rack held together by hopes and dreams. The bed is so tiny and narrow that Max is sure he wouldn't even fit if he lies in there unless he assumes a tight fetal position.
“You’re here,” Logan stands from the bed, eyes wide in surprise. He hasn’t expected Max to visit him out of all the people in the grid. Not even his own teammate performed that courtesy. “Uh, I don't have anything. Here, have my seat. Do you want me to grab—”
“It's fine,” Max holds his palm up. “Sit back down, Logan.”
Logan slowly sits back down and moves to the side so Max can have a space to sit on. Max occupies Logan’s given space beside him. Their shoulders and elbows are touching.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Logan nods.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Max nods, but he doesn't believe him. Comfortable silence wraps the entire room. It lasted less than five minutes.
“You should break the car,” Max suggests seriously. “So no one can drive it, too.”
A soft laugh escaped Logan’s throat.
The door swings open and enters Leo, who freezes when he sees Max Verstappen sitting next to Logan. He looks at the two F1 drivers then back in his hand, where he was holding a large Stanley cup and two styro cups.
“Great, I only brought two cups,” he says, kicking the door behind him to close it. “Should have told me the world champion is coming. I would have brought the expensive wine.”
“What do you have there?”
“Beer,” Leo lifts the Stanley cup and gives it a small shake. “Transferred it to a Stanley cup so no one would notice.”
“James wouldn’t be happy,” says Logan, frowning.
“We’re not happy with him either,” Leo retorts, pouring the beer into the two cups. He hands one to Logan and another to Max.
“I suggested breaking his car,” Max inserts, accepting the cup. He still feels a bit weird to be hanging out with Leo like this. He’s angry still, but he’s not as angry as he was in Austin. Leo’s words, though Max would never admit it out loud, made sense. You left because of Max’s own selfishness. He was the one who had cut your wings and thought that his gesture was out of love when in fact, it was an action born out of his desperation and his fear of being left behind by you.
“Should I?” Leo humors his suggestion, shrugging his shoulders.
Logan sighs, shaking his head at the two. He can’t believe they're both older than him but still wield that petty immaturity.
“Please don't.”
Second, the RB20 has brake issues in Australia so Max ends up retiring in the middle of the race. Max hears everyone cheer at his retirement. That's when you know he’s good. When everyone wishes for his downfall. Everybody in Red Bull grows wary watching their prized driver stomp inside the garage, looking like he has a lot to say to the mechanics. His head is as hot as the burning car at the pit.
Max hears two people whispering amongst themselves:
“Mad Max is back.”
“Where's [Name] when you need her? He’s going to get blow up at us now.”
“[Name] really is a saintess because she’s the only one who can handle him when he’s angry.”
“I never appreciated her efforts before but I am now. I hope she never left.”
Max hopes she didn't, too. Out of all the people in Red Bull, he’s the one who wishes that she hasn't left the most. Now, he’s even angrier.
Max wins P1. If he doesn't, it's a DNF. The problem is the reliability of the car, not him. Never him.
He steps foot in Austin soil again on October 15th for the 19th race of the season, eager to win another P1 and increase his chance of snatching his fourth consecutive world driver’s championship title.
Fortunately, the RB20 doesn't fail him mid-race. The Dutch national anthem is heard all around the Circuit of the Americas and Max retires to the garage, too tired for any form of celebration. He wants to change out of his racing gear. He still has to fix his Google calendar and check out a few things in his Notion page. Who knew being your own manager can be so tiring?
Kendall comes by, a camera in hand. She snaps a quick picture, only one take because she knows Max hates taking pictures. Max believes you mentioned it to her before and has asked her to take the pictures quickly so he wouldn't get annoyed. You were always too thoughtful, always mindful of the little details. Perhaps, it was why he fell in the first place.
Max pivots on his heels to leave after he hears the camera click.
“Oh Max,” Kendall stops him. “[Name] came by earlier. She said congratulations.”
Max entire world stops spinning. Everything else became a mass of white noise.
“Where's she?” Max demands.
“She left already, said she’s got somewhere to be—”
Max sprints to his driver room, grabs his keys and ran all the way to the parking lot where his car was parked, not minding the screams and the questioning stares he received from the people he ran past them to his car. His mind only focuses on one thing—he has to get to you.
He drives down to the familiar road that he and Logan drove in last December 2023. He's racing against time and like all races he'd participated in, he hopes to win. He hopes that he’ll be able to see you. Max arrives at the red and yellow brick house in Vista Del Pueblo, jogging up until the front door and knocking. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him.
No one answers. Max jogs up to the window at the front and peeks inside. The house is still empty as it had been in December.
Max's shoulders sagged.
He wasn't fast enough.
803 notes · View notes
shiftythrifting · 8 months
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vintage bowling polo from ragstock in wisconsin, early 2020
1K notes · View notes
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Étienne de Navarre [Rutger Hauer], Ladyhawke (1985)
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Fezzik [André the Giant], The Princess Bride (1987)
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Prince Prospero [Vincent Price], The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
Ragnar Lothbrok [Travis Fimmel], Vikings (2013-2020)
Ramsay Bolton [Iwan Rheon], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Rand al’Thor [Josha Stradowski], The Wheel of Time (2022-)
Ravenhurst [Basil Rathbone], The Court Jester (1955)
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Renly Baratheon [Gethin Anthony], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Richard Cypher [Craig Horner], Legend of the Seeker (2008-2010)
King Richard [Timothy Omundson], Galavant (2015-2016)
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Robert of Huntingdon [Jason Connery], Robin of Sherwood (1984)
Robert the Bruce [Chris Pine], Outlaw King (2018)
Robin Hood [Errol Flynn], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Robin Hood [Richard Todd], The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men (1952)
Robin Hood [Sean Connery], Robin and Marian (1976)
Robin Hood [Michael Praed], Robin of Sherwood (1984)
Robin Hood [Kevin Costner], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)
Robin Hood [Cary Elwes], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)
Robin Hood [Jonas Armstrong], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)
Robin Hood [Tom Riley], Doctor Who: “The Robot of Sherwood” (2014)
Robin Longstride [Russell Crowe], Robin Hood (2010)
Rodrigo Borgia [Jeremy Irons], The Borgias (2011-2013)
Rollo [Clive Standen], Vikings (2013-2020)
Roose Bolton [Michael McElhatton], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Rosencrantz [Gary Oldman], Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1990)
Count Rugen [Christopher Guest], The Princess Bride (1987)
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Saladin [Milind Soman], Arn: The Knight Templar (2007), Arn: The Kingdom at Road’s End (2008)
Samwise Gamgee [Sean Astin], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
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Saruman [Christopher Lee], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
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Tajomaru [Toshiro Mifune], Rashomon (1950)
“The Sherriff of Nottingham” [Alan Wheatley], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1955-1959)
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“The Sherriff of Nottingham” [Alan Rickman], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)
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Sid [Luke Youngblood], Galavant (2015-2016)
Sihtric Kjartansson [Arnas Fedaravicius], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)
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Syrio Forel [Miltos Yerolemou], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
“Taunting French Guard” [John Cleese], Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
Theoden, Son of Thengel [Bernard Hill], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
Thierry de Janville [Jean-Claude Drouot], Thierry la Fronde (1963-1966)
Thomas Becket [Richard Burton], Becket (1964)
Thomas Cromwell [Mark Rylance], Wolf Hall (2015-2024)
Sir Thomas Gray [Nigel Terry], Covington Cross (1992)
Thorin Oakenshield [Richard Armitage], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)
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Sir Tristan [Kingsley Ben-Adir], King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Trumpkin [Peter Dinklage], The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)
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Ubbe [Jordan Patrick Smith], Vikings (2013-2020)
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“Unnamed Elf Escort” [Bret McKenzie], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
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Uther Pendragon [Anthony Stewart Head], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)
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Wat [Alan Tudyk], A Knight’s Tale (2001)
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William Wallace [Mel Gibson], Braveheart (1995)
Will Scarlet O’Hara [Matthew Porretta], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)
Will Scarlett [Patrick Knowles], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Will Scarlett [Christian Slater], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)
Will Scarlett [Harry Lloyd], BBC’s Robin Hood, (2006-2009)
William Thatcher [Heath Ledger], A Knight’s Tale (2001)
Willow Ufgood [Warwick Davis], Willow (2022)
Xenk Yendar [Regé-Jean Page], Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)
Zbyszko z Bogdanca [Mieczyslaw Kalenik], Knights of the Teutonic Order (1960)
98 notes · View notes
alittlebitofsainz · 6 months
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a place in this world - ch1
a dream come true. you, a race engineer in formula one, having built your way up through the ranks. sure, the 2020 season hadn’t exactly gone the way that everyone had expected, but this was your chance, your moment to prove to the world of racing what you and your driver, carlos, were made of. but carlos isn’t staying at mclaren forever, and eventually, you’ll have a decision to make…
pairing: carlos sainz x f! reader. slow burn colleagues to friends to lovers (please, from my own experience, don’t follow this pipeline)
info: reader lives in the uk due to working at mclaren, and is somewhat implied to be british. it is also implied that they listen to bbc radio 2 and support leicester city football club. this may or may not be because these things are true of me and I wasn’t planning on publishing this, sorry!
warnings: cursing, a lil’ bit of angst, very infrequent use of y/n, one (1) google translated spanish sentence, a dry british writing style xoxo a/n: hello! welcome to a little passion project I never thought I’d share with the internet. this will eventually become a sort of ‘choose your own adventure’ type series, where you can make decisions about your career that can eventually lead you to different teams and drivers. will be posting a masterlist soon with more info so bare with me! any feedback / comments are always welcome
Masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4
Chapter One: … Ready for It?
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it had started out like any other wednesday. except it hadn’t, not really. the nature of your job meant that there was no ‘any other wednesday’. most wednesdays meant that you were jetting off to some new country, your wide eyed face in the window seat, reflecting back off the pane of glass separating you from the dancing lights of some exciting new city, 5,000 feet below. race engineer to mclaren-renault formula one driver number 55, carlos sainz, wasn’t exactly what you had listed as what you wanted to be when you grew up, but you were far from disappointed that that’s what your linkedin profile now read, a metaphorical middle finger to everyone who’d said you’d never amount to anything in motorsports.
but by all accounts it had been a relatively uneventful wednesday in your life, in fact even more so than usual compared to the early morning check ins at Stansted airport that you’d grown accustomed to. this week was silverstone, your home race, if race engineers could call it that, and that meant no early mornings, no check ins, no flights, no decanting your liquids into tiny bottles and zipping them into a plastic bag to take through security. this wednesday was a stop at sainsburys to fill up the tank of your vw polo with petrol, and an 80 mile drive west towards silverstone circuit. the most exciting part of your morning was getting stuck in half an hour of traffic on the m25; you didn’t even need the dulcet tones of Richie Anderson on radio 2 to tell you there’d be traffic at Potters Bar. as a native southerner, you could just feel it in your bones.
still, only fifteen minutes late to track wasn’t too bad, considering your lengthy journey, and you were by far the last member of the team to arrive. you would’ve been even less late, but for the fact that you’d sat for the best part of five minutes in your car, engine off, staring at the notification on your phone. there were so many questions running around in your head, first and foremost of which was why on earth did dan from engineering have your number? but the second question, which was possibly the more important one, was why did carlos ask him for it? he said that it ‘might be useful to contact each other.’ if the current expression on your face could be summed up in a noise, it would be a very confused and very emphatic ‘huh?’.
sure, you and carlos interacted a lot during race weekends, that much was a given. you were forever catching up to discuss data, strategies, the car setup, the sandwich options at the hospitality, why the leicester city football team would beat real madrid in a fist fight. so okay, your conversations weren’t allstrictly work related, and you could’t deny that the two of you got on well and seemed to really understand each other, but that was all part of being a driver and race engineer duo; you had to be on the same wavelength. it was non-negotiable. but swapping phone numbers? you couldn’t imagine why the two of you would need to text or call each outside of work hours, and you had work phones for that. which led you to your third and fourth questions: number three, why did you suddenly feel so nervous and giddy with excitement when you re-read his message for the seventh time? (question three point five was why did you re-read his message seven times?) and number four, what the hell were you supposed to message back in reply?
you typed in a thumbs up emoji and then immediately deleted it. how fucking old were you, 65? what next, start talking to him about the cold war? no, you had to keep it fun and casual, not too overfamiliar but not too weirdly distant and cold. god, why was this so difficult? you felt like a schoolgirl with a teenage crush, constantly typing various replies and deleting them again, letter by letter. eventually you settled on a cool, calm and collected response, typing it out and shoving your phone into your pocket before you had time to overanalyse what you’d just sent. quickly gathering up your stuff from the boot of your car, you spammed the lock button on your car keys, just in case the first five times didn’t stick, and trotted off towards the entrance to the paddock.
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as it was approaching the hour mark since he’d sent his text, carlos had been starting to worry that he’d overstepped an unwritten boundary. why had he even asked dan from engineering for her number in the first place? it just felt like something that he should have. lando had will’s number, he’d already asked him that. but once he’d sent the message he realised that he couldn’t really come up with an excuse as to why he’d needed it, why he couldn’t have waited until he’d seen her this weekend and ask for her number from herself. like a normal person. deep down he knew why, though he was in some sort of state of denial about it, and it was the same reason that he hadn’t asked for her number two weeks ago in Hungary, or at the previous race in Austria, or when he’d first met her at the start of the season. 
he breathed a sigh of relief when her reply came through, 57 minutes after he’d sent his message. well, the first one that is. the second message came two minutes after the first; god, he couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to forget to include who he was at the end of the text the first time around.
but it didn’t matter now, because she’d replied, and her words on the screen made him smile to himself, her voice in his head as he read them through three, now four times over. his fingers hovered over the keypad, contemplating a reply. he checked the time - it wouldn’t be long until she arrived at track anyway and they could chat in person, so he closed the messages app on his phone and tucked it away in his pocket, deciding against committing any words to the everlasting aether which was the iPhone messages app.
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it was nearing the end of a lengthy strategy department meeting when your phone went off, a few pair of eyes glancing your way as you apologised profusely, eyes scanning over the text before sheepishly putting your phone on do not disturb and placing it back on the table face down. shit, this meeting wouldn’t be finished for another ten minutes at least, and by that time all the bacon and brie toasties would be gone (everyone knew they were the best lunch option). worse still, you hated the fact that you had to leave carlos hanging; pausing the strategy meeting to send off a quick text was equivalent to a cardinal sin, even if it was to carlos sainz. your eyes were flicking increasingly often down to the time on your laptop, the seconds crawling by as the time approached one o’clock. it felt like whichever godlike entity governed the laws of time was toying with you; surely it wasn’t possible for time to move this slowly? the head of strategy wrapped the meeting at 13:04, and you were out of your seat like a rocket.
amy, one of the strategists, fell into step beside you as you paced it down the corridor.
“you’ve heard about the brie and bacon being back on?” she asked; you only had to reply with a grin to give her the answer that she needed. she eyed you up, as much as anyone power walking down a busy corridor could whilst still maintaining maximum straight line speed.
“everyone from strategy and engineering has been in meetings. so who’s your source?” came her second question. you picked up your pace, under the guise of trying to get to the canteen quicker.
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she had a habit of taking just enough time to respond to carlos’ messages to keep him guessing whether she actually would respond at all. it wasn’t entirely her fault, carlos realised; she’d apologised for earlier, explaining that she was busy driving. of course she was, how could he be such an idiot? maybe a part of him was hoping that she’d been acting coy, teasing him by waiting, purposefully trying to keep him on the edge of his seat.
carlos saw her enter the canteen, watched with a small, self satisfied smirk as her face fell, the rattan shelf where the brie and bacon toasties had been, now depressingly empty. he left it just long enough so that she was forced to consider which disappointing option to go for instead, before finally calling her over.
“Y/N!” carlos called, watching as her head whipped round, and he had to stifle a laugh at her confusion. he waved her over.
“sorry, I was stuck in a meeting.” she sighed, her voice slightly breathless. had she ran here? he fought back the urge to tease her about it, shaking his head slightly.
“don’t worry about it.” he replied, gesturing to the seat beside him as he spoke. her eyes lit up when her gaze fell on the plate on the table, in just the way he’d pictured in his head. god, he’d never get over the way the simple things pleased her, and he didn’t mean that in a bad way. over the past couple of months that he’d known her, carlos had learned that the little things really mattered, in a way that was almost rare in this environment. she looked upon a brie and bacon sandwich like it was the sun that shined, and if she’d have looked up at carlos in that moment, she’d have seen that he was looking at her in the exact same way.
“is that for me?”
“no.” carlos replied, deadpan. she shot him a look, her face screwed up in a pout that he’d grown more accustomed to the more he teased her like this. eventually he let out a soft chuckle, as a way to say I’m only joking, of course it’s for you, and she sat down in the seat next to him with a playful scowl, which only caused him to laugh more.
“thanks, carlos. you’re the best.” she told him through a mouthful of brie, bacon and toasted bread.
“I know.” he replied, a cheeky grin dancing across his face. “it was the last one as well.”
“amy’s gonna be pissed.” she giggled, glancing over her shoulder to watch as her colleague was forced to settle for regular ham and cheese.
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a podium finish to p13. was it worse to fail because of your own shortcomings or because of something that was out of your control? if you’d asked carlos sainz right now, he would think about it for a moment, and then tell you to vete a la mierda.*
his phone screen lighting up in the darkness was the only thing that brought his attention to how dark it had become in his hotel room. christ, how long had he been sat there, staring at the wall, trying to process how frustrated and angry and upset he was? he’d put his phone on silent, tired of all the commiseratory messages that had been coming through, but apparently his bedtime reminder didn’t obey the laws of do not disturb. sighing, he unlocked the device, and quickly scanned down the many notifications he had been ignoring for the past few hours. one stood out above all the rest, because of course it did. he felt guilt clutch him as he noticed the message from well over an hour ago. from her.not only guilty at the fact that he’d not seen her message, but for some reason guilty for perceiving that he’d let her down at her home race. it was stupid, he knew, to feel that way - it wasn’t his fault that his tyre had blown out with just a few laps to go, but he knew how excited she’d been for her first ever british gp, and it had all ended in disappointment. his fingers hovered over the keyboard at the bottom of his phone for a moment, a million different emotions whizzing round in his head, bouncing off the sides like a demented pinball machine. no wonder he had a headache. he drew in a sharp breath before typing out his reply.
*I’m hoping this means somewhat akin to ‘fuck off’
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you’d almost forgotten that you’d sent carlos sainz a message of commiseration, which was shocking considering how long you’d been deliberating over it only a mere hour ago. you were back in your own bed in your hometown, seeing no need to stick around seeing as there would be no celebrations this weekend, and carlos had disappeared as soon as the team debrief had ended, making it very clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. which made it all the more surprising when you leaned over to your bedside table, bleary eyes blinking back sleep as your vision adjusted to the pitch black of your room, to pick up the phone which had woken you from your sleep.
your eyes blinked again against the harsh light of the phone, taking a moment to focus on the big bold numbers on your lockscreen. 01:03? who was texting you at this time? eyebrows knitted together in an increasingly deep frown, you scanned carlos’ message. as was becoming customary, you read it several times over, this time to check whether you’d read it right. why would he want to ring you, at this time of night as well? your mind started to reach for wild possibilities - was he in trouble? hurt? worse?
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before he changed his mind, carlos hit the telephone symbol next to her contact details.
“Carlos, are you okay?” her voice came through almost immediately, sounding equal parts panicked yet somehow sleepy. shit, not only had he caused her to worry, he’d probably just woken her up in the middle of the night as well. what kind of dickhead rings a colleague that he’s only known for a few months at 1am? he cleared his throat.
“fuck, sorry, I woke you up.”
“don’t worry about it, I was awake.” she replied. a blatant lie, but carlos appreciated the attempt to make him feel better. 
“can I help you with something?” she continued, still sounding concerned. he shook his head even though she couldn’t see.
“yes, no. fuck, I don’t know.” he growled at himself for being so confused, so confusing, for not even really knowing why he’d called her. was he going insane, or did he just hear a soft sigh on the other end of the line? he squeezed his eyes shut, collecting himself to try again, but she beat him to it. 
“I’m sorry about today, carlos, it must be tough to deal with.”
sometimes it felt like she knew him better than he knew himself. he dragged a hand down his face.
“yeah, I’m- it’s not great.” he stumbled over his words slightly, his voice catching in his throat. usually he’d be reluctant to show this vulnerability, embarrassed even, but something about the late hour combined with how oh-so-soft her voice was… it made him forget his pride for just that moment. 
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” he admitted, feeling a ramble coming on but equally feeling powerless to stop it. “I know that it was a problem with the tyre, I know that it wasn’t my fault, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. and then there’s always a part of me that wonders whether there was anything that I could’ve done. like, maybe if I’d driven less aggressively or something, or changed the way I braked around a certain corner. I still feel like I’ve let myself down, let the team down, let you dow-“
“you didn’t let me down, carlos.” her abrupt reply broke him from his monologue, stopping him in his tracks and allowing him to fill his lungs with air, not realising how out of breath he was becoming with his run-on sentences.
“what?” came his soft reply. he’d heard perfectly clearly what she’d said the first time. but a part of him needed to hear it again.
“you didn’t let me down, carlos.” she repeated, with the same clarity, the same sincerity, the same low tone that he’d never heard from her before that made her sound so wise beyond her years.
“you didn’t let anyone down. this wasn’t your fault. I know it doesn’t make it any less frustrating or easier to deal with - there’s nothing I can say that will change that. but please, please don’t blame yourself for any part of it.”
there was silence on both ends for a moment, before carlos let out a long sigh.
“I- yeah, I guess you’re right.” there was something still on his mind, something that one am carlosknew that one pm carlos would never want to talk about, least of all burden his race engineer with it. but that was all the more reason to say it now.
“I just feel so much pressure to perform, now that I have the ferrari contract.” his voice dropped even lower as he spoke, as if whispering it quietly enough could make it not be true. “I feel like I have to earn my place there, you know?”
“carlos, you were P-fucking-3.” 
something about the way she stressed the syllables made carlos chuckle despite himself, and from the way she let out a small giggle on the other end of the phone, he guessed that that had been her intention all along. 
“anyone can see that you’ve earned that seat at ferrari. you’ve proved that time and time again already. this isn’t about anyone else, this is about you, and what you believe you deserve. the only person you need to convince is yourself.”
carlos chuckled again, feeling some sort of playful nature already coming back to him. maybe he’d finally figured out why he wanted to call her in the middle of the night, maybe it was even the reason he wanted her number in the first place. maybe it was because he knew that no matter how crappy he was feeling, talking to her always seemed to turn the day around. she always seemed to make him smile.
“very inspirational.” he replied, his tone almost teasing over her ‘believing in yourself’ speech. the corners of his lips curved upwards as he could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end.
“this is what I get for trying to be nice.” she muttered, but her tone was light, reciprocating the teasing. carlos smiled, his first genuine smile in several hours. probably since the last time he’d seen her.
“thank you, really. talking to you it… it always puts me in a better mood.” carlos confessed, glad that this was a phone call so she couldn’t see the way his cheeks lit up a soft shade of pink.
“anytime, carlos.” 
when they eventually hung up the call, carlos felt lighter than he had in weeks, like she’d melted all his problems away with her soft voice and warm heart. he slept easy that night. meanwhile, she was now wide awake.
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you groaned when the sound of your phone pinging dragged you from your admittedly tumultuous sleep. it had been difficult to drift off again after that call with carlos, a million thoughts buzzing around your brain like a swarm of bees on cocaine. you felt bad for carlos, sure, but that wasn’t enough to keep you awake on its own. there was another feeling there; if you were to flip through an oxford english dictionary until you found a word that summed it up you might settle for ‘intrigued’. 
you were intrigued that carlos that had decided to ring you of all people last night; surely he had family, or at the very least close friends, that he would rather turn to? but you were also intrigued by your own reaction - why were you feeling so warm and fuzzy that carlos had chosen you, the knowledge that when he was feeling low you were the one he wanted to hear on the other end of the line creating some sort of feeling in your heart, like someone was squeezing it not-quite-too tightly?
it was these questions, and an incessant amount of bin lorries driving past at 5am, that kept you from falling back asleep, and were the reason that you were grumbling now, as you reached over to pick up your phone. the grumbling ceased the moment you read the message and saw who it was from, replaced by a softly murmured ‘oh’, and that strange feeling in your chest again.
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as always feedback and comments are welcomed with massive appreciation and open arms! a second part is written and will be out soonish! much love, Katie x
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Harry and Meghan travel all the time away from those kids. Those kids are not used to seeing their parents. Harry disappearing for weeks on end won’t bother them one bit.
Hey, if you don't mind, can you do a summary of all the times they left the children that we know of and how long?
I Know Harry had an Invictus event very soon after Archie's birth, and I saw someone mention a hunting trip to Germany, Meghan at the US open, polo at Archie's birthday, TQ's funeral, etc
Ask from July 25th
I believe the Germany hunting trip was in 2017. Supposedly that's when Meghan got all pissy about it and made Harry give up the antique guns Philip gave him. Also, the Archie's birthday/polo clash wasn't a travel event; the polo match was just down the highway from Montecito, so I'm not counting that one.
So this is only the travel that we know about. I'm sure there's plenty of other travel that we don't know about. This also does not include the date nights and overnights in L.A. Basically, for me to include it in this list, they had to have left the state of California.
May 2019: Harry travels to The Hague for Invictus Games. It's supposed to be a two-day trip but he shortens it to one day.
May 2019: Harry travels to Italy for Sentebale polo fundraiser. He's gone at least overnight.
July 2019: Harry travels to Italy for Google Camp to give a speech on the climate crisis. A couple of days.
September 2019: Meghan travels to NYC for the US Open. Not sure how long she's gone, probably just a couple of days.
September 2019: Harry travels to Amsterdam to launch Travalyst. It's jsut one or two days.
October 2019: Harry goes to Angola and Botswana, while Meghan stays in Johannesburg wtih Archie. One or two days.
November 2019: Harry travels to Japan for rugby. It's just a couple of days.
January 2020: Harry and Meghan travel to the UK for Sandringham Summit. Archie stays in Canada with friends. They're here for about a week. Meghan flees after the Megxit statement drops.* Harry attends Sandringham Summit alone but Meghan offers to call in.
*There's a rumor that Meghan didn't flee on her own, but that she was deported. According to this rumor, The Queen summoned Meghan to BP, Meghan ignored it and went to a private engagement instead (this one), The Queen was incandescent with rage, the RPOs tracked Meghan down, took her to the airport and physically put her on the plane back to Canada. There's a variation of that rumor (a spin-off, if one will) where instead of The Queen summoning Meghan for an audience, The Queen tasked Meghan with an engagement, Meghan refused to go, then The Queen ordered Meghan to leave and RPOs put her on a plane. Regardless of the variation, supposedly this deportation is what Harry is referring to with "they know what they did" when he's demanded apologies from the BRF.
March 2020: Harry and Meghan travel to the UK for Megxit farewell tour. Archie stays behind in Canada with "friends." They're gone about a week and flee back to Canada after the Commonwealth Service because of COVID concerns.
April 2021: Harry travels to the UK for Prince Philip's funeral. He's gone about a week (he has to quarantine for 5 days before the funeral due to COVID protocols). Meghan stays home in CA with Archie.
September 2021: Harry and Meghan travel to NYC for the Global Vax Live concert and make it a mini-fauxyal tour. This is a few days long.
November 2021: Harry and Meghan travel to NYC for a Veterans Day gala on the USS Intrepid.
March 2022: Harry travels to Texas. He's papped at Stockyards Rodeo. No idea how long his trip his, maybe a couple of days.
April 2022: Harry and Meghan travel to The Hague for Invictus Games. They have a layover in London and try to see The Queen at Windsor Castle. They're away for about 2 weeks , maybe a little less than that.
May 2022: Meghan travels to Texas to support the Uvalde community. It's maybe a two-day trip.
June 2022: Harry and Meghan travel to the UK for the Platinum Jubilee. While there are still photographs that suggest the kids were with them this time, there's plausible gossip from Britain that the kids actually weren't there because no one actually saw them. I'm including this one here to hedge bets.
July 2022: Harry and Meghan are in NYC again for Mandela Day. It's at least a 2-day trip.
August 2022: Harry travels to Africa to host US officials and conservationists for a few days in his role as President of African Parks.
September 2022: Harry and Meghan travel to the UK for a fauxyal tour. It's just supposed to be a few days, but they end up getting stuck in Britain for about 3 weeks when The Queen dies due to royal mourning and her funeral.
December 2022: Harry and Meghan travel to NYC for Meghan to receive the RFK Ripple of Hope award from Kerry Kennedy. It's a couple of days. There's scalding tea that the couple were downright frosty to each other when they weren't on camera.
May 2023: Harry travels to the UK for Charles's coronation. It's not even an overnight trip.
June 2023: Harry travels to the UK for a hearing in one of his lawsuits. It's a few days.
May 2023: Meghan, Harry, and Doria travel to NYC for Meghan to get an award. It's a couple of days. They get "chased" by paparazzi. It's a few days.
August 2023: Harry travels to Japan for a conference and to Singapore for a charity polo match. He's gone a few days.
September 2023: Harry and Meghan travel to Germany for the Dusseldorf 2023 Invictus Games. They're away for at least a week. Meghan comes late because she just had to get the kids milkshakes first. (Yeah, everyone WTFs it.)
October 2023: Harry and Meghan travel to the Caribbean to relax at a Soho House beach resort. I think they were there about a week.
October 2023: Harry goes to Texas to attend F1.
October 2023: Harry and Meghan travel to NYC for some kind of panel summit thing with Carson Daly. It's a couple of days.
January 2024: Harry and Meghan travel to Jamaica for the Bob Marley movie premiere. Meghan supposedly leaves CA while Harry is receiving his award from John Travolta and he flies out to meet her. (There are rumors that Meghan is spotted being very friendly with a man not her husband before Harry arrives.)
February 2024: Harry travels to the UK to see Charles after the public announcement of his cancer diagnosis. It's an overnight trip. He's gone from CA for about 3 days.
February 2024: Harry travels to Las Vegas for a thing, something that's part of the Superbowl celebrations. (I think he went straight from London to Vegas.)
February 2024: Harry and Meghan travel to Canada for a Vancouver Invictus Games kickoff thing. It's a 4 day event.
March 2024: Harry and Meghan travel to Texas. They go to Austin and San Antonio for charity visits. It's related to Meghan's panel appearance at South X Southwest.
April 2024: Harry and Meghan travel to Miami for a series of polo matches. Maybe it's a week?
May 2024: Harry travels to the UK to attend the service of thanksgiving for Invictus Games's 10th anniversary. It's an overnight trip. Meghan meets him at the airport after the service.
May 2024: Harry and Meghan travel to Nigeria for a fauxyal tour. I believe it was a 5-day trip.
August 2024: Harry and Meghan travel to Colombia for another fauyxal tour. It's another 4-5 day trip.
I'm sure I've forgotten some.
So this is 34 37 trips in 5 years without their children. Assuming:
An average of 4 days away per trip for 30 34 trips (understanding that some were longer, others were shorter so it should balance out)
12 days for The Hague Invictus Games (includes the Windsor drop-in)
10 days for Dusseldorf Invictus Games
21 days for September 2022
They were away about 163 179 days that we know of. Just for comparison's sake, the average American school year is 180 days. And remember, this does not include overnights in L.A./Beverly Hills, of which I suspect there's quite a lot of because it's at least a 90-minute drive (without traffic) to Montecito*. Not to mention that Harry has hotel rooms somewhere in California and he may or may not have a BetterUp corporate apartment up in San Francisco. I'm guessing if we were to guesstimate how often one or both of them is staying the night elsewhere in California, we'd probably see numbers double this.
*I'm also adding my own personal bias here; if I have to drive more than an hour at night, I'm getting a hotel room. Granted, the Sussexes do have drivers so they're not exactly in the same boat, but given all the rumors about Meghan having rooms at The Beverly Hills Hotel and Harry having a whole floor of a hotel permanently reserved, I think it's a pretty safe assumption that they do have a lot of overnights away from the kids in LA.
Now just for giggles, let's count how many times Harry and Meghan traveled with their kids:
Summer 2019 summer of private flights all over Europe despite Archie being too young to fly to Balmoral.
October 2019 - to South Africa
June 2022 - to London for the Platinum Jubilee
July 2022 - to Jackson Hole, Wyoming for July 4th (pap photos of Archie at a parade; no Lili)
December 2023 - to Costa Rica (blurry pap photos, plus a People PR article)
To be clear, I'm not begrudging the fact that the Sussexes travel for work. A lot of parents travel for work, and a lot of parents travel more than this per year for work. A lot of parents travel for 'me time'. Parents gotta do what parents gotta do to feed their kids and take care of themselves to take care of their kids.
What I'm instead commenting on (and snarking about) is how much Harry and Meghan have attacked the Cambridges/Waleses for spending time with their kids, how Harry attacked Charles for being unavailable during Harry's childhood, and how much PR Meghan has put out about how she's the best mom to ever mother and her whole life revolves around her kids; their actions aren't matching up to their words, which makes the stories they do share about the kids seem hollow and unreal.
Edit: Remembered some!
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Omg I don't know how I never noticed this but after seeing your diasomnia baton post I realised that I absolutely despise their dorm uniform pants
I used to think that they diasomnia students had drip but I take that back
It just feels wrong to have such baggy pants with the top of the uniform
Idk what do you think? Btw can we have a dorm uniform fit check
[Referencing this post!]
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To be fair, we mainly see the upper half of every character so it’s easy to forget what the bottom half looks like. I’ve found that the characters’ shoes are often really wonky (like the weird elf shoes in Broomquet cards) 😭
As for Diasomnia’s pants… I actually don’t take an issue with them at all. Those pants make a lot of sense given the inspiration for the dorm (which Yana has stated in an 2020 interview to be “bodyguards and dragons”). Diasomnia is meant to look militant—and that style of pants, from what I understand, are popular in military uniforms of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
These flared breeches have roots in equestrian fashion, as polo and horse riding were activities favored among army officials, particularly the cavalry. (Note that half of the main cast in Diasomnia, Silver and Sebek, are in Equestrian Club.)
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This style of pants is called jodhpurs. Diasomnia’s are more specifically an “old” design (shown above). They may look a little silly, but jodhpurs were considered quite fashionable back in the day. Additionally, the design was very functional for equestrians. Having a looser fit around the thighs allows for more freedom of movement—which is necessary for certain horseback maneuvers and helps with staying on and controlling the horse. The entire leg needs to be covered in fabric in order to protect from friction.
Prior to the development of riding breeches, equestrians would wear tall boots. The drawbacks to this were that 1) the boots were expensive as heck, and 2) the boots were complicated to put on and oftentimes required the help of a servant. When jodhpurs came onto the scene, these problems were resolved. Being entirely made of a non-stretchy fabric, they were much cheaper to produce than the riding boots. The lower part of the breeches is tight and form fitting, making it ideal to pair with short boots (which are easier to put on/take off by yourself).
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Modern day or “new” jodhpurs look more like this (pictured above). As you can see, they’re much more slim and have transitioned into a stretchy fabric that still allows for movement. They basically do the same thing as the older iteration, they just look different and are made with a different material!
You’re probably thinking the “old” breeches look weird because you’re much more used to seeing the “new” style! Personally, I think the “old” style makes more sense for Diasomnia’s draconian aesthetic.
Aaand here’s my current personal ranking of the dorm uniforms. (I think I gave my thoughts on them a long time ago, but my opinions may have changed since then.) This is based solely on looks but does NOT account for dorm leader variants (just the standard dorm uniforms mobs wear)!
Heartslabyul — Whimsical, fun. Somehow both casual (sneakers, white T-shirt) yet also formal (vest). I’m a sucker for the Alice in Wonderland aesthetic and asymmetry in designs so this is really my bias speaking.
Pomefiore — So pretty!! Interestingly based on a kimono despite Pomefiore being based on a European tale. Very unique direction to take this uniform. The sleeves are the best part; they remind me of really fancy curtains and I bet they’re fun to watch swishing around.
Octavinelle — Can’t go wrong with a cool and simple suit! It’s elegant… a classic. No complaints other than maybe it’s too “traditional” looking compared to other designs.
Diasomnia — Cool at a glance, but also seems like a nightmare the longer I look at it because of all the straps. It looks like you would be standing very stiffly once it is on, so I get this sense of discomfort and feel bad for the students wearing it. There’s a weird… spiked strip running down the back, which makes it impractical to recline against a chair/couch or a wall. RIP Silver every time he naps 😭 Still giving this a pass because I think it fits the intimidating vibes of Diasomnia so well.
Ignihyde — Nothing to remark on other than it’s one of the least fussy of the designs (though it lacks the class of Octavinelle’s). That works against Ignihyde; the main thing that grabs my eye is the weirdly blocky jacket and that’s not enough to keep me interested when I find the blocky jacket really ugly. There is nothing else for me to look at.
Savanaclaw — Exposed arms… That’s a nope for me 💀 Biker cowboy aesthetic is also a big nope. Colors on this are so odd; the shirt and jewelry are so earthy and then BOOM you got this bright ass yellow sash at the waist.
Scarabia — Exposed arms (again). Also not a fan of the saggy hotpants or the shoes that expose the feet. Y’all are in the DESERT. Exposed skin = more sunscreen and bug spray application needed to protect yourselves. Sounds like a pain…
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Lamborghini Miura P400 S Millechiodi, 1969. A Miura P400 S, chassis number 4302, that left Sant'Agata Bolognese in November 1969, painted Blu Notte (dark blue). Following a series of Italian owners, in 1975 it became the property of Giovanni Sotgiu and Walter Ronchi, two important names in Lamborghini history because, in addition to their work at the "Lamborcar" dealership in Milan, they were the first owners of Bob Wallace's Miura Jota. Precisely in the spirit of recreating the Jota, the two transform the 400 S, damaged in an accident, into something much more racer-like. After a huge investment their Miura, now painted in Verde Scuro (dark green), was finished. It used so many rivets to join the body panels that the name Millechiodi (a thousand nails), came naturally. The car was restored in 2018 and certified by Lamborghini Polo Storico in 2020.
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massivenightartisan · 3 months
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Great fishing technology | Lot of fish | দারুণ মাছ ধরার প্রযুক্তি | প্রচুর মাছ#rural_farming_etc RFE
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