#A single point

[123pixieaod]

The Smell of Roses - (post-Singapore)

I can't sleep and I can't not think about Daniel fighting just for that single point for Max :,)))

“I owe you a point,” Max announced as soon as the door opened.

Daniel stared, the light of his kitchen spilling onto the dark corridor, pooling around Max’s feet.

“Max,” he finally said, “mate, what the fuck?”

If you were to ask Max how he ended up outside Daniel’s apartment at 3am on a Tuesday night, he’d give you a couple of options to choose from.

The first is, of course, the race the weekend previous. His radio crackling to life as he meandered along the streets of Singapore, trying to catch his breath. Second place. Sweat soaked through his race suit, clinging to the collar and running down the groove of his spine.

Second place. Not great, but there was no catching to Lando today. Second place. Best of the losers, but sometimes he can’t do any better.

Radio. Christian, congratulating him. Telling him he couldn’t extract anything more from the car. Then, an afterthought.

“And your old pal Daniel picked up the fastest lap at the end as well, Max.”

His beat of silence before he clicked on the radio, saying the only thing he could think. “Thank you, Daniel.”

-

Or maybe the moment started seven years previous. 2016, just after the German Grand Prix. Max’s first podium shared with Daniel. From podium to alone in a Red Bull conference room, a few days later and waiting for a meeting to commence. Daniel, leaning back in the office chair, throwing his cap in the air, catching it. Max sitting across, watching. The arch of the cap, navy and red splitting the air. Higher and higher. Daniel aiming to hit the ceiling and still catch it. Max, just watching. Always watching, always in awe.

“Excited for the race?” Daniel asked lazily, head still tilted back as he caught the cap. Max still watching, free to memorise the outline of his Adam’s apple.

“Sure,” he replied, a beat too slow.

“Just so you know, because you’re actually catching up to me in points now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you win so much now,” Daniel gave Max a smile, joking but also tinged with something cut-throat. Max smiled back, unsure why. A reaction. Flower opening to the sun. A moth fluttering to a flame. Inescapable, unstoppable.

“I’m going to fight for every point,” Daniel continued, tossing the cap up again. It made a soft noise as it finally bumped against the ceiling tile. He whooped, catching it, grinning at Max. “See that?”

“Very impressed.”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed, setting the cap on his styled curls. Smooth skin, light brushing of stubble. Bright eyes, an even brighter smile. Alight from the inside out. “Just like I caught that cap, I’ll catch all the points. Like a Pokémon trainer, gotta catch them all.” He laughed. “Just so you know.”

“Noted.”

“I’m getting all the points now. The honeymooning period is over, baby!” Daniel grinned, and Max was saved from a reply by the door opening, Helmut finally arriving.

-

Or maybe it was a few years later. Christian inviting Max to have breakfast at his table. Turkey, 2020, and Max had qualified second, but fucked up the start. Second to eight in a single second. Then, after making up precious places, stupidly losing control and spinning. Three pit stops later, and managed to drag the car to sixth place. His only race that season where he finished and didn’t get on the podium. His own fucking fault. Lewis, Checo, Sebastian spraying champagne, and Max ruined his racing gloves by pelting them so hard against the garage wall the seam tore.

“You really should take stock in your sixth place,” Christian said, buttering a croissant. “Eight points are valuable.”

“They’re useless,” Max muttered. Arms crossed, stubbornly refusing to touch his anaemic-looking spinach omelette. “They’re not exactly twenty-five points. Not much against Hamilton’s 307 points.”

If he had come first and Bottas hadn’t finished, he’d have gone up. Elevated finally to second in the championship. His first time ever being just one standing below the victor. But he fucked it. Now, there’s 27 points between him and Bottas. The gap growing, because he’s a fucking idiot driver.

“They’re not useless,” Christian said patiently, reaching for a little pot of jam. “Points are points.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather take home 25 points rather than eight,” Max muttered, and Christian finally looked up, setting down his cutlery.

“Do you know Shakespeare?”

Max wrinkled his nose. “Shakespeare?”

“The English poet,” Christian replied, as if that was a perfectively normal conversation change.

“Of course I do. Romeo and Juliet and all that shit.”

Christian raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff,” Max amended.

“Perhaps you may have heard this quote,” he went on, finally beginning to spread the jam on his croissant. Max watched the action, his pale fingers holding the knife, dragging it back and forth over the buttery flakes. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Have you heard of it?”

Sometimes, Max forgot his team principal went duck shooting and rode his own purebred horses in his downtime.

“No,” Max said. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s from Romeo and Juliet. And I like to think the quote can be extended also to F1 points. It doesn’t matter how many you get, or even how you get them. As long as you get them. As long as you stop your rivals from achieving them. No matter how many. Even a single point. Points, by any other name, would still smell as sweet.”

Max frowned, utterly lost. “We should call points something different? A codename? Is this like a strategy to confuse the other teams on the radio?”

Christian smiled, eyes creased. “Something like that, sure.”

-

Daniel has a rose tattoo. It’s on his thumb, small and dark and perfect. Max can see it now, the dark lines etched into his tanned skin. He’s holding the door open, fingers against door’s side, thumb facing Max.

A tiny rose.

-

Maybe, he has to go even further back to figure out why he’s here. Back to the very beginning.

At a carting track, sitting on a discarded wheel. His father kneeling in front of him, hand on his knees.

“How could you just like that boy get the better of you?” He was saying, voice low and urgent. “I didn’t raise a pussy, Max. Or did I?”

Max shook his head, but his dad was already continuing.

“Why didn’t you go for that opening at corner five? And don’t act like a bitch and say you were scared of crashing. There was enough space. And if there wasn’t, you make the space. Force the other driver to move. Nine times out of ten, a driver would rather get out of your way than have you crash into him. Why didn’t you push him? You could’ve Max, and then you would have an actual trophy, and not this plastic shit. Second?” He scoffed. “Fastest fucking loser. Say it back to me, Max.”

“Fastest fucking loser,” he mumbled.

“Good. Now, tell me. Why didn’t you do that move? No, don’t shrug like that. I was an answer.”

“I -“ Max’s tongue felt ten times heavier than usual. “I don’t -“

“You do know, because you did it. Tell me.”

“I… I didn’t… We are friends, and I did not -“

“Friends!” His father barked out a laugh, and then leaned close. “Listen Max. There’s no friends in racing. Do you know where having friends lead you too? Here, sat outside on the fucking ground when your friend takes photos with his trophy. It gets you fastest fucking loser. There are no friends in carting, no friends in F1. Nothing is genuine in this sport. And if you think it is, you’ll about to wake up with a knife in your back and dead last in every race. Now, which one would you prefer? Being last and having friends, or winning? Do you want to be a winner, Max?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop being a fucking pussy.”

-

Daniel congratulated him on his second world championship. Hugging him properly, arms wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing. Pulling away to grin.

“You really are the fucking goat,” teasing, but genuine. A warm flush across his already bronze complexion. Hand still clamped on Max’s shoulder. “Congratulations mate.”

Max trying to remember how to reply.

-

Or maybe it was GP trying to get Max to have a sit-down meeting with him on data feedback. 2019, and Max didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Fine. Please, you tell me what you want to do at the next race, and we’ll do it,” GP replied casually, good at hiding his annoyance. “Let me know. Sets, fuel, run plan.”

Max clenched his jaw, and the older man sighed. “Listen, I’m trying to help - “

“I don’t need help,” Max snapped. GP blinked at him.

“Max,” he said softly, as if breaking bad news. “Everyone needs help.”

“I don’t.”

He gave him a look, somewhere between pity and amusement. “Everyone needs help,” he repeated.

-

So yes, if you were to ask how he ended up here, outside Daniel’s door at 3am the weekend after the Singapore GP, Max would say there’s a few reasons.

“I owe you a point,” he repeated stubbornly. “You got the fastest lap in Singapore. You took the point away from Lando and McLaren and their fight for my title. So, I owe you a point.”

“Mate,” Daniel said, blinking, “sorry but let me repeat myself again. What the fuck?”

ao3

[lonelyroommp3]

yesterday my flatmate asked what my "olympics schedule" was in terms of what i was planning to watch and when and i was like i can't explain to you how much of a foreign concept that is to me. you don't have an "olympics schedule" in my household you watch whatever happens to be on tv whenever you have a minute of free time and get insanely invested in whatever sport you end up watching. maybe down the line you get so caught up in an event that you start going "i'm sorry i need to have the tv at 8:45pm next tuesday because i need to see the men's sport climbing finals or i'll kill myself" but it's something that has to happen organically you know. that's half the fun

[sergle]

ALSO IMPORTANT TO NOTE, people dropping mad mad sums of money on gfms and charities and stuff are extremely impressive but that DOES NOT MEAN that putting like $5 towards someone's fund or any good cause is any less valuable, a lot of crowdfunding is about momentum and those single digits add up super fast, you do not need to be Rolling In The Dough to make someone's day!! moving the dial at all is extremely positive!!

[balis77]

Fun fact: Samus' zero suit is a bodysuit in more recent games instead of the tank-top she wore in older games because at this point, she's been spliced with so many species' DNA you really don't want to see what the rest of her skin looks like.

[pangur-and-grim]

one funny thing is that after committing a crime, Belphie will lie down super flat and look up with his big wet eyes. not stressed out or scared, just accepting that he’s broken the rules and might’ve earned a time out in the kitten room. it’s the “I’m waiting for you to carry me away” position

[heritageposts]

large zionist blocklist below

i've compiled a list of all the blogs positively interacting with the @/israel-palestine-bingo blog

there's more info about how the names were complied under the read more, but just to get an idea of how vile the blog is, i just want to quickly mention that the first prize offered in their pinned post, "eight hours of memi mamtera," is the song used in the viral israeli tiktok trend of kidnapping, humiliating, and torturing palestinians in the west bank.

and the "grand prize," which needs no explanation, is "all of palestine! for free!"

some quick info: all the names here have either approvingly replied to, reblogged from, or liked one or more of @/israel-palestine-bingo's posts. for likes, i've only gathered names that appear under their original posts; mostly ones that have not been reblogged, and some with 2-3 reblogs that have not left the immediate sphere of zionists. i've also made sure that these are blogs who have either liked more than one posts from them, or who frequently reblogs from other zionists.

you can also quickly look through the blog yourself (it doesn't have that many posts), or check out any of the names on the list with a quick 'israel' or 'palestine' in the search bar or their blogs.

there are more screenshots at the end of the posts, including ones showing who made the blog (ani-lo-daredevil / katenotbishop), and the bingo board itself (ashenpumpkin).

blocking tip: fastest way to mass block users (on desktop) is to go to settings -> the blog your blocking them from -> scroll all the way down to 'blocked tumblrs,' and then copy-paste the name your blocking

names listed below in alphabetical order reminder again, block don't engage

2peachy acleverforgery ani-lo-daredevil apollo-enthusiast ashenpumpkin <- credited for making the bingo board, reblogged/liked almost all of their posts. aureatecorvid avi-on-jumblr (main @/clear-what-i-was-seeing) awstheticshit bambahalva bleepiesheepie bluenorther blueredfetch bones-and-crows britneysmeanshirt cannibalism-is-my-love-language captain-navii casavanse celepito chubbybubba ciitrus--fruitz coffeelovinggayidiot da-socks davos-is-the-one-true-king dchan87 disregardenedgnostic elder-millennial-of-zion faggotry-enjoyer fdelopera flowercrownsandfairylights fluffel677 fluffy-art-moss george-lucas-is-god got-chavi icereader12 illegitimatetenenbaum inklingm8 its-hila jewishlivesmatter just-illegal karinhasdacookie

katenotbishop <- the main account of the person running the blog. her sideblog is @/ani-lo-daredevil

kelluinox kingofslush letaot-ze-magniv lingonberryjamistakenwhat lovelyhairedpianist magic-coffee marrymepadfoot marvel-ous-posts masters-puddle <- pornblog mixmangosmangoverse morganas-simp mossadspydolphin multifandermissesanakin nameless370 namiko026 nevleg32 notcrazyiswear oakstar519 perfectlynormalperson psychologeek queerius randomname3 redvodyanoi rhysaka sally006 sbinklebooper scp-1296 shinekocreator <- commented, 'but is this the 8 hour version?' on a post where someone ''won'' the song used in the tiktok torture videos. snakelung sort-of-a-demon soxiyy stuffandatherstuff tearsandice tedious-waffle thebejeweledwatercat the-library-alcove thirdmagic thisgingerhasnosoul timegirl tolaat-bli-toelet <- the person running the bingo blog. mainblog is @/katenotbishop transmascpetewentz tribulation-of-somnolence unexistencerpg viktorrotkiv wanderingmadscientist whiterose-blackrose whitesunlars why5x5

note: @/tolaat-bli-toelet changed her username to @/ani-lo-daredevil (her main is still @/katenotbishop)

and from the same post,

the last post was also reblogged by the creator of the israel-palestine-bingo blog

[unforth]

Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.

That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.

That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.

That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.

That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.

That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.

That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.

None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.

I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.

If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.

Celebrate fan work!

To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.

[paintedcrows]

Holiday Classics

Been thinking about Ford watching the 70s Animated Lord of the Rings Movies... (companion comic to this post!)

[worm-on-my-way]

do drugs kids :)

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Making and Remaking Memories

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[oifaaa]

People will try to convince you Jason Todd is the impulsive doesn't think before he acts type of guy and its funny bc Jason is almost comedic in how fucking long it actually takes this boy to plan out anything

[txttletale]

"umm if you reblog or make a pro-kink post you gotta be clear you don't mean pedophilia" no i dont actually because i dont think child sexual abuse is a 'problematic kink' and the fact that you do speaks volumes about the fact that your understanding of why csa is bad is rooted in 'its icky' and not that it entails doing profound and traumatizing harm to children.

[polarsirens]

🦋

[sforzesco]

something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.

it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.

and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.

on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.

edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.

Perseus, Daniel Ogden

Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet

[userarmand]

[smooth operator playing in the background]