#Travel-Friendly Calendar

[artaholiczone]

[2travelingdogs]

What The Calendar Says

What The Calendar Says “Changes are hard enough. But the calendar says we better hurry up.” Wednesday’s Dog Blog #movingtoitaly #travelwithdogs

This is Peanut Butter Brickle. Calendars are funny things. I love them in one way. After all, when you have my face on your calendar, that says it all. But I also see the persons picking up the calendar all of the time. They look at one on their phone. They look at the one on the wall. They talk about the days and the weeks and the months and the years. They say time goes by so fast and they…

[wosoamazing]

The Transfer

Summary: You move to Barca.

Warnings: None I don't think

A/N: Google translated Spanish so I apologies if it is incorrect, hope you like it. Also as usual feel free to send requests, whether it is for this Series or for kid!readers, or something else. Hope you like it.

You run to Leah when you see her, and give her a massive hug, you missed her, camp was hard, especially the second last day. There was a conversation you needed to have with her, you didn’t want to risk her finding out from someone else, so you decided to just start it right there and then in the airport.

“We need to talk about something, Le.”

“Go to Barca.”

“What?” you exclaim looking up at her, surely you heard her wrong.

“Go to Barca, you deserve it Bug, you’re amazing, go to Barca, you can always come back, Arsenal will take you back in a heartbeat, any club would take you back in a heartbeat, but you’re not going to want to come back, and I’ll visit I promise, and we can put daily facetime calls in our calendar for the first few weeks. Call me whenever you need, I’ll pick up the phone. But the girls are lovely there, and you will have Lucy and Kiera.”

“Wait, so you’re saying go? How did you find out?”

“Of course I’m saying go, it’s Barca, and the finding out part, well Alexia messaged asking if I knew anything I said no, asked Lucy and Kiera and they were like ‘yeah she spoke to us about what the people were like, and the environment etc we thought you knew’ Millie then walked in and was like ‘Guy’s shit just went down at the Matildas camp, might want to check your sister is okay though Leah’, Millie than told us what Sam told her and yeah”

“So, you’re not mad I didn’t ask you first?”

“No, I’m proud, you asked the right people the right questions, you stood up for yourself, you manage to do some pretty hard ball negotiations, and you didn’t let anyone make the decision for you, you stayed true to yourself, and I’m proud.”

_____

“Ready to go?” Lucy asks as your suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, you nod you had just played friendlies against the Lionesses in England, so at least the travel there was short, however the travel back to your club was going to be a bit longer, as you weren’t returning to Arsenal but to Barca.

“I feel sick,” Kiera moaned as she came out to join you and Lucy.

“Yeah, I told you to stop drinking, why do you think we didn’t drink.”

“Ah because she is still a week and one year underage, and you I don’t know, because you don’t know how to let loose and have fun,” Kiera replies. Last night some of your national and club teammates as well as some Leah’s national teammates had a party in your honour, to celebrate you going to Barca and to celebrate your Birthday, which was in a week.

_____

It was your first night staying at Lucy and Kiera’s and somehow it was conveniently team bonding night at their place. It didn’t seem like a coincidence at all. You were really nervous to meet the team, they all knew each other already, this was the first time you were joining a team that you were completely new in, when you joined Arsenal you already knew the girls really well because of Leah, and then when you joined the Matildas you had Steph, Kyra and Caitlin, but this was different.

You had stayed quiet for most of the night, watching the game, trying not to draw attention to yourself, however that was all unravelled when Mapi sighed “Estúpido Àrbitro. Eso fue claramente una falta.” (Stupid Referee, that was clearly a foul)

“Casi fue tarjeta amarilla.” (almost was a yellow card)

Everyone heads turned to you, and their jaws dropped. “You know Spanish?”

“Ah, well a bit, mainly to do with the game, one of my Friend’s Dad’s is Spanish and they talk Spanish at home, especially when he is watching the game.”

“Leah never told me that,” Lucy remarked, “Leah doesn’t necessarily know” “oh, so is this a friend or a friend.”

“Lucy leave the poor kid alone,” Kiera told her off.

“So it is a special friend,” “Is she, or he, cute?” “Do you have a photo?” the girls all asked at once.

“Girls, as Kiera said, leave the poor kid alone, she just got here” Alexia told them, they all shut up immediately.

_____

“Oh, Bebita, what’s wrong?” Alexia asks you as she walks into the locker room, you were slumped back in your locker, leaning against the wall, “come here”, she says as she drags you up and brings you in for a hug, in which you broke, tears start to stream down your face as you try to get out of Alexia’s grip, it was only your third day at Barcelona and yet here you were crying in front of your new captain. Alexia only tightened her grip at your actions cooing “It’s okay, I’m here,” rubbing your back slightly. “How about we sit down,” she sat down and pulled you into her lap, you rested your head on her shoulder, giving into her.

“I-I miss Le,” You sobbed into her shoulder.

“I know, its okay Bebita, we’re here,” Alexia could never understand completely how you felt but she could imagine, she could see how close you and Leah were which wasn’t surprising considering you had been living with her for the past six years but leaving her and only seeing her through the phone was something you were struggling with, and the team had started to notice it, you were always slightly sadder when you re-joined the team after being on the phone with Leah.

_____

You woke up and looked at the clock, it was 9:00am, ‘shit’ you mumble to yourself, you sprung out of your bed before flopping back into it, after having the realisation that you didn’t have training today, you had a game last night, which you played in, it was much tougher than the games at Arsenal, so you were exhausted.

It was only then that you took in your surrounds, there were balloons scattered around your room, and on the floor, there were little present signs with arrows. You quickly got yourself semi presentable before following the presents, they lead you into the living room, all your new teammates were there. “Surprise!” they all yelled whilst someone exploded one of those confetti guns, you were in fact surprised, you had been at Barca a week, you were expecting something low key with Lucy and Kiera not a whole team affair, “Come sit,” Lucy said tapping the empty section of couch between her and Alexia, as you walked over you couldn’t help but notice the pile of presents on the coffee table, you had already received gifts from your family and arsenal teammates, so these had to be from your Barca teammates but you couldn’t really believe it.

“You got these all for me?” you questioned in disbelief.

“Yes, they are all for you,” Alexia tells you before handing you a gift, “here open.”

You eventually finished making your way through the present pile and thanked everyone profusely.

However, while you thanked everyone Alexia walked in with three more presents, these ones were quite heavy. “Don’t open them yet, I just need to call someone,” whoever she was calling answered, and then she handed the phone to you, it was Leah and Lia, “Happy Birthday Bug! We may have some surprises for you, open the skinny rectangular one first. It’s from Katie, she wanted you to have it on your actual Birthday, make it more special” you opened it up and grinned it was a whoop, “tell her I like it please, and that I said thank you.”

“Will do bug, now the smaller of the two remaining was Lia’s idea, but both presents are from us” you opened the two gifts and at the sight of them tears left your eyes, “T-thank you,” your sister and Lia had just gifted you a new Mac Book Pro and a new iPhone. Ingrid moved closer to you and hugged you, knowing it was what you needed. After getting ready the rest of your morning was filled with fun festivities as the girls made sure to spoil you, however it was time to start getting ready to go out for dinner, so everyone returned to their own homes in agreeance they would all meet there, waiting for everyone to be there before they went in.

As you walked into the restaurant with the team Lucy whispered to you, “there may be one more surprise,” she gestured her head over to the massive table in the restaurant, where two familiar figures sat, you couldn’t control yourself and run over to them. “Hi Bug, glad you’re happy to see us,” Leah said hugging you “we missed you” Lia said now hugging you.

“I missed you too” you said before you sat down between them, you were grinning from ear to ear. “How are you here?” “Oh, this was all Alexia’s doing, she planned it all.” You looked over to you captain who winked at you, maybe Barca wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

[vetteltea]

Lando Norris and Putting Up Decorations [no warnings]

Day 1 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

“Mate, you just crossed me!” Alex’s voice shouts down the headphone set, a laugh erupting from the McLaren driver’s lips as he sees his fellow pilot cut off by none other than himself.

Lando’s down-time from the grand finale of Abu-Dhabi had lasted a grand sum of four days, three hours and twelve minutes before the boy was restless once more. He’d arrived home, seen his family, unpacked and washed his clothes in a fraction of the time it would usually take him. By the third day, he had called you at least seven times, begging for the company of his best friend- no, secret crush whom just so happened to be his best friend - and for your presence in Monaco. 

The evening you had arrived, the driver was bouncing on the heels over his overpriced trainers. When he’d caught a minute glance of your face, sleep ridden and your body wrapped in comfortable traveling clothes, the excitement filtering through his body couldn’t be contained, rushing over to scoop you up, the squeal which released from your lips barely audible over his own laughter, spinning you around in circles before gently reminding him she does need to go and grab her suitcase. 

He has it all planned out; a week of taking you to various lunching spots;, a few movie nights, maybe a catch-up with Max and Charles if you were feeling up to it. Most importantly, it was an entire week of being with you before you would fly home - together. 

What Lando had completely forgotten about, was the promise he had made to Alex, George and Arthur about a joint livestream, speaking about their experiences throughout the year. He’d sheepishly explained the situation to you over breakfast, only feeling his heart soften when you promised him it was okay, you would keep yourself occupied for a few hours, anyway. He wasn’t sure what you meant, or where you were going, for that matter when pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and slipping out through the apartment door. 

Engrossed deeply in his current driving battle, he hadn’t heard you return; it was just as well, your own phone connecting to the lounge speaker, gently playing Christmas music whilst unraveling the copious amount of decorations you’d obtained during your disappearance. After all, Lando had just moved into his new apartment and you were all-too-aware he had bought next to nothing with him. The least you could do was thank him by bringing some festive spirit into his home. 

One song becomes two; two become seven as you freely move to the music, climbing onto the arm of your best friend's sofa, tongue poked out at an awkward angle as your arms reach, a desperate attempt to hang the garland across the gilded mirror. You’re certain you would have entirely lost your balance, probably slammed into the floor if not for the two arms around your waist, feeling a warm chest press against your back. 

“You’re going to fall if you’re not careful.” He mumbles, keeping his grip around you firm whilst your heart caught up to your head; his arms were around your waist. Lando Norris was holding you. “I don’t want you to fall if I can’t catch you.” 

Did he…did he mean to say that? Did he understand how your heart fluttered so deeply, how if not for the garland left in your grip, you’re almost certain you would have turned in his grasp and pressed your lips to his, to hell with the consequences. Wordlessly, you let his touch remain whilst stretching to hook the garland across the mirror, now secure in your balance with his helping hands. (Helping was a strong word. You’re fairly sure your heart was about to explode.)

Hands fall to your side, subconsciously leaning back into Lando’s touch. Both of you are quiet, simply looking up to take in the decorations. This time, it’s Lando to act on instinct, tilting his head slightly and pressing a gentle kiss to the temple of your forehead, lips lingering for a lot longer than would be considered friendly. 

He hopes everyday. He hopes that one day the metaphorical penny will drop. Of course, you’re his best friend. There’s nobody he would trust more, who he would rather come to with his insane problems. Somewhere along the way, he had just so happened to fall in love with you. There’s the tiniest, most selfish part of him that wants nothing more than to lean forward there and then, tilt your chin and press your lips together. 

‘Not right now.’ he reminds himself. ‘I can do better. I can make our first kiss better.’ 

The moment has to end; eventually your head leans forward, unraveling yourself from his warmth and stepping off the couch. He can’t help but let the grin fall to his face whilst seeing you weave inbetween decorations, beelining towards the kitchen. 

“I picked up hot chocolate!” You draw him from his internal thoughts. “If you help me with the last few pieces, I'll make you one?”

“You had me at Hot Chocolate.”  

[notbecauseofvictories]

Hi Sarah, I'm going to visit Chicago in a couple of weeks and when I think of Chicago I think of you. What would you recommend I visit/do?

Unfortunately, Chicago is not its best self for a couple months---while I maintain that the city is for all seasons, summer is undoubtedly when it's most alive. However, there are a couple things I will definitely recommend for the unseasonably warm spring traveler:

(1) Eat some food

A friendly word of warning: do not be tricked into eating Giordano's or Lou Malnotti's. Perhaps your companions might try to win you over with promises of Chicago-style hotdogs---do not be swayed! You must manfully resist! (Harold's Chicken is that good though, and if you're close to the one in Hyde Park, feel free to devour the three piece dinner of your choice. Cheap bottle of the too-sweet wine I preferred as an undergrad optional.)

A much better option is to find a place that serves whatever food you love, but does it really really well.

Do you like sophisticated twists on a brewpub menu? Try Moody Tongue in the South Loop

Or are you really more of a tapas person? Highly recommend mfk in Lincoln Park

Would you prefer something a little....meatier? My favorite steakhouse in Chicago is Tango Sur (though I would argue their empanadas are really the showstopper)

There's nowhere in the city that does Hong Kong-style barbecue like Sun Wah in Uptown---I just stopped by after the parade for the Lunar New Year, the duck is to die for.

Are you on the West Side? First of all, do not go to Big Star. I mean, it's fine, but....come on. I'd pick Forbidden Root instead, or head over to Pilsen for Rubi's if you can't survive without tacos.

There are so, so many different bars I would recommend. Chicago was the home of bootleggers for a reason, goddamn it. Still, if you can't get to Wang's (look, I like Violet Hour too, but sometimes you don't want to drink in near-darkness), Koval (the rare distillery in Chicago), or any of the many, many craft breweries we have in the city right now, you probably can stop by one of the many, many, many bars we have in Chicago, and get a drink anyway.

There are more---of course there are more!---but we don't have all day. So instead I will leave you with this bit of wisdom: don't eat at Navy Pier or anywhere too close to Lincoln Park Zoo. If you are at a bar, don't settle for a burger when sometimes, the chicken tenders are actually better. And if you absolutely must go somewhere for pizza, choose Pequod's.

(2) See a thing

Chicago has many things in it! So many things! A hundred thousand things! Unfortunately, I don't know what you're into, so I will just talk about them in general.

MUSEUMS: I am a devoted museum-goer, and Chicago has blessed me with an endless feast. There are the big ones, of course---the Field Museum of Natural History, the Adler Planetarium, the Shedd Aquarium, the Museum of Science and Industry, the Art Institute of Chicago. However, my favorites are smaller, more unique: the International Museum of Surgical Sciences, Intuit (though it's temporarily closed, more's the pity), the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at UChicago, the Lincoln Park Conservatory. That's not even all the museums in Chicago! That's not even all the museums that I've been to. It's amazing.

EVENTS: I once joked that I was a person who needed to schedule her enrichment like a blue-haired senior, but the joke was on me---I am that person! Fortunately, Chicago supports me in this endeavor by publishing many, many different calendars of "what to do this week or weekend". Do you want to see something onstage? Well, here you go. How about some classical music? I have a trusty guide. What about non-classical music? Always go to the Chicago Reader for that. Are you thinking of catching a game? Well, we're still in spring training for the Cubs and Sox, but the Bulls are doing okay even if the Blackhawks aren't, and we've got soccer (male and female) now too!

(Unfortunately, the Chicago Sky aren't playing right now, they're my favorites.)

OTHER: Unless you are extremely efficient, coming here and eating good food, doing one other thing, is more than enough. I promise it is! However, if you have more time, I definitely recommend just---wandering around. The Loop in particular is great for this, because it's reasonably small and everyone there is busy doing things. Going places, talking on phones, getting into or out of ubers, protesting outside of the Daley center, etc. etc. It's amazing to watch, and the buildings are pretty neat too.

Or you could wait a couple months, and take the Chicago Architecture Boat Tour, which I think should be a requirement for all Chicagoans. Maybe even everyone alive in the world. Just saying.

(3) Walk along the lakeshore

Chicago offers many delights, but I really do believe that Lake Michigan and its vast expanse of water, sky and space, is a unique gift to the city. It is beautiful in winter, in spring, in storms, in sun. It is free. You can sit in the grass or the sand or amble along its broad paths for miles, looking at unexpected art installations and waving grasses and the way the beaches slope to the water; you can talk to a friend or watch bikers and joggers pass you by. In the summer, there are a dozen different stands offering warm elote or cold soda, and cheerful men on jingling bike carts that will sell you neon orange push pops. In the winter, there are still bikers and joggers but also Canada geese, and you can stare mournfully at the slate grey water and ponder existence.

It is the heart of Chicago. Nelson Algren called us an "October city, even in summer"; Carl Sandburg described us as a shirtless dude who gives great oral. Personally, I think of Montrose Beach in the setting sun of winter, the sand almost too cold to touch---and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

[motocorsas]

here's my rundown of all the new 2027 tech regulations:

the most important news is the reduction in engine capacity. the pistons are going to be reduced from 1000cc to 800cc, meaning they generate less power with each stroke. the bore of the pistons is also going to be reduced, which is the width of the piston head. the wide bores that have been in use for some time deliver more power, so reducing bore size means less fuel and air will be used with each stroke. this makes the bike slower, but more fuel efficient.

fuel efficiency has also been taken into account with the new gas tank and fuel regulations. gas tanks are being reduced from 22 to 20 liters for full races and from 11 to 10 for the sprint. essentially, since dorna has reduced bike power, they've reduced fuel capacity as well, since less fuel is needed.

this is where the new sustainable fuel comes in: the new fuel will be a mix of biofuel and synthetic, both of which have a lower power storage by volume compared to gas fuel. this will also reduce power. are you seeing a pattern?

the last time 800cc bikes were used in MotoGP, they were absolutely hated by riders. from 2007 to 2012, engine capacity was reduced from 990cc to 800cc for similar reasons as today; concerns about safety and overtaking. but the bikes were considered some of the worst to ride, due to low torque and inconsistent power delivery, meaning the bike performed best a very narrow rpm and throttle range -- step on the gas for just a milisecond longer, and you'd get shot off the bike. that made highsides much more frequent. mat oxley explains here:

the title of the article is MotoGP 800s - Rot In Peace, which feels like a grim portent of the years to come.

attempts to mitigate the engine's problems with electronics also sacrificed power and overtaking.

sound familiar? right now, riders, stewards and engineers are all complaining about overdone electronics. this brings us to the next point revealed in the presentation, that holeshot and ride height devices will be banned.

these devices program the bike body to shift up and down under certain conditions, carrying momentum and reducing drag. holeshot devices specifically program the bike to start, resulting in the classic rocket-powered starts we see today. riders plant their feet, tuck their heads down, and let the bike do the rest. holeshot devices have their negatives, especially combined with heavy aero -- plenty of crashes occur in the first few corners of a race because the overpowered start combined with heavily engineered aero shoots a rider directly into another's rear tire. this is the sacrifice made for overtuning bikes so that they're perfectly optimized.

but notably, these changes don't mitigate crashes! despite claiming to prioritize safety, reducing power on its own does not reduce crashes. less torque = slower corner exit = riders prioritizing quicker roll speed and engineers seeking higher rpms. and less power = less braking = less overtakes.

none of this is to say that the original 800cc era was inexcusably terrible or that the new era will be as well. but i don't think liberty media or dorna understand what draws viewers to the sport. in the presentation, they justify most of these changes as making bikes more "road relevant", increasing mileage and sustainability. but world superbike already exists to fill that niche, making motogp obsolete in that sense. i'm all for safe and environmentally conscious racing, but as stated above, these new regulations don't make motogp more safe. they also don't make it more eco-friendly either; ethanol fuel is nice, but it's a drop in the ocean compared to the absurd emissions generated by transporting the entire traveling circus from racetrack to racetrack. if there's anything motogp can learn from wsbk, it's a reduced calendar. less travel means less emissions, and longer breaks gives riders time to recuperate from injuries.

in their attempts to make motogp a better entertainment product, liberty media are challenging the integrity of the sport. their unnecessary limitations ignore the true root of most problems -- overworked riders and teams and a bloated schedule -- and waste money in the process. constantly changing concessions and regulations forces manufacturers to spend more and more money developing new bikes; no wonder teams have been dropping out. these concessions don't help anyone but liberty, since they can claim they've "revolutionized" the sport and made it into a safe, sustainable overtake-fest. all they've really done is sanitize it.

[memoriesndew]

intro to “coquette life planner” by the notion nest

In the last poll I did (on my kofi page), the majority of you wanted a 2024 coquette - mainly pink aesthetic and trust that I will always deliver. I wanted the life planner template to be everything so I put so much energy into this, most templates I make take about 2-4 weeks depending on the simplicity or complexity of it, but this took a month plus to make. I tried to include everything and make it aesthetic and cute. it comes with a travel planner, a daily, weekly and monthly planner, a general to-do list, a goal tracker connected to tasks and more. it includes 30+ pages. I made sure to add the goal tracker into the different pages each goal is related to. i added a goal view to fitness page for your fitness goals and to the school dashboard and others. This template is beginner-friendly and is not as complicated as some of my other templates and I tried to include only the things that are necessary to reduce distractions. it also includes a Pomodoro timer and page for those who would like to use the Pomodoro method to work. I hope this template works for you as much as possible enjoy.

More about the template

Introduction

Enter the Notion Coquette Life Planner, a digital tool for bringing the coquette lifestyle to life in an organized and visually appealing manner. Whether you're new to Notion or an experienced user, this article will help you construct a calendar that captures the essence of the coquette aesthetic while keeping you on track with your goals.

Why Choose the Coquette Life Planner?

Aesthetic Appeal: With its soft pastel colours, delicate fonts, and elegant layouts, the Coquette Life Planner turns the mundane into something magical. Every time you open it, you’re greeted with a visual experience that motivates you to dive into your tasks and plans.

Comprehensive Organization: This planner isn’t just about looks—it’s packed with functional features. Every aspect of your life can be neatly organized in one place, from daily, weekly, and monthly calendars to habit trackers, goal-setting pages, and project management tools.

Customizable Layouts: Notion's flexibility allows you to tailor the planner to your specific needs. Whether you need extra journaling space, a dedicated brainstorming section, or a simple to-do list, the Coquette Life Planner can be easily customized to fit your lifestyle.

Mindfulness and Self-Care: Life isn’t just about productivity; it’s about balance. The planner includes sections dedicated to mindfulness, self-care routines, and reflections, ensuring you’re not just crossing tasks off a list but also taking care of yourself.

How to Use the Coquette Life Planner

Getting started with the Coquette Life Planner is simple. Once you purchase it from my Ko-fi shop, you'll receive a pdf that will lead you to a link to duplicate the planner into your Notion workspace. From there, you can begin customizing it to your heart's content. Here are a few ideas to get you started:

Daily Planning: Use the daily layout to organize your tasks, appointments, and personal notes. Add motivational quotes or images that inspire you to make each day beautiful and productive.

Goal Setting: Break down your big dreams into actionable steps with the goal-setting template. Whether it’s launching a new project, learning a skill, or cultivating a new habit, the planner will keep you focused and motivated.

Self-Care Tracking: Monitor your self-care habits with dedicated trackers. Whether it's maintaining a skincare routine, keeping up with exercise, or practicing daily gratitude, you’ll be able to track them all.

Ready to embrace your inner coquette and transform the way you plan your life? Visit my Ko-fi shop and get your hands on the Coquette Life Planner today!

Shop Now: [Ko-fi Shop Link]

Follow Me: For more aesthetic digital tools and resources, be sure to follow me on social media and stay tuned for updates on new products!

[crackedpumpkin]

ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ||

Author's note: Sick on Xmas, but hope y'all out there celebrating and staying safe <3 have been incredibly busy lately my calendar has been BOOKED so im super super sorry for not getting back to anyone regarding tumblr; just havent had the time lately;;; in happier news, im travelling tomorrow! (haha still sick.)

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

Sunday | 11.30 AM |

“The birds are chirping, the trees are tree-ing, dogs are barking, and my brain is farting.”

“That was so poetic.” Michael nods, clapping slowly as he moves away from the streetlight he’d been leaning on while waiting for you to arrive. You had texted the group chat the night before, asking if anyone wanted to grab lunch before meeting up with the rest for bowling.

“Is Nicole coming?” He asks, pulling out his phone to check. 

“She’s probably still sleeping.” You shrug, tugging off the thin lavender cardigan you’d put on before leaving the house. You sense Michael’s raised brow, looking up to see his incredulous stare at your outfit. 

“Dude, it’s like, hot.” 

“It’s for the fit,” You defend yourself, adjusting your jeans and tank top. 

“Some fit,” He snorts. He doesn’t even get a moment to defend himself before you sock him in the arm. He winces, rolling his shoulder back and massaging his arm with a grin. “Seriously though, it’s like sweltering out here. I don’t know how you’re going to survive bowling.”

“Watch your words, you’ll just end up being left in the dust anyway.” You cross your arms smugly, holding out the cardigan. He instinctively takes it from you, helping carry it in his arms while you check for lip balm in your bag. Luckily, you grabbed it just before you left the bedroom, stuffing it into the depths of the unknown black hole that is your purse.

“In those jeans?” He scoffs in retaliation. 

You pause in the middle of the sidewalk, glancing down at your jeans in case there was any stain you had missed in the wash. “What’s wrong with my jeans?” “...Everything.”

Michael laughs when you move to pummel his stupid face, shielding himself until your punches subside. “Are you excited to meet Miles?” He asks, running a hand through his hair and checking his reflection in the passing shop windows. 

“W-why would I be excited to meet him?” You ask, stammering only slightly and disguising it as a cough. The reminder only serves to make you more aware of the growing pit that begins to form in your stomach. Suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore. “I mean, it’s great to meet him and all. Maybe we’ll be best friends, who knows? No one can resist my charms.” As if to prove your point, you flash a bright smile at Michael who hums absentmindedly. “Right, because that’s exactly how we became friends.”

“Yeah! Remember when you walked down the hallway and tripped over my foot, then I helped you up?” 

“Uh, wrong. I tripped over Nicole’s foot and you stood there while she laughed.” Michael corrects with a shake of his head. “The audacity to claim to be a saint.”

“I was shy and it was my first day!”

“I saw that smirk on your face, pinto. And it’d already been a week since you transferred to our school at the time. I knew it was a bad idea for Nicole to be your buddy. See, if we were paired up on the other hand, we could’ve gone and gotten some gazpacho.” He nudges your shoulder with raised brows, smiling suggestively. 

“You’re disgusting,” You laugh in response, shoving him away as he grins. The day had gone just as Michael described, but it was mainly because of how funny Michael’s face had looked when he processed the large white stain on the side of his shirt when he stood back up and dusted himself off. The dismay soon faded once he processed your presence, offering a friendly smile and fist bump before proceeding to flirt shamelessly with Nicole. 

Their dynamic confused you at first, but you soon came to the realisation that they were in fact, crushing heavily on each other. Nicole would never admit it though, but she definitely treated Michael differently from other people. The moments were rare, but on occasions when you did witness it, they were sickeningly sweet and oblivious to the point you wanted to puke (politely, of course).

“Is Nicole already there?” 

Speak of the devil. You pull out your phone, subtly glancing at Michael’s slightly eager expression as he waits. “I think so. She read my message two hours ago, so I think she’ll be reaching earlier than us.”

“She was up at ten? Is she sick or something?” He frowns, trying to hide his worry. However, the way he cups his chin and scrolls through his phone for homemade remedies suggest otherwise.

He really isn’t subtle at all.

“Yeah, I think she mentioned needing lozenges the other day.” Simply pushing them together isn’t enough. You need something solid, something more concrete to gently nudge them. “Didn’t you mention a brand you liked the other day for lozenges when you were sick with that flu?” 

“I did?” He pauses. “I did! I’ll be right back.” He calls out, entering the convenience store right next to you. Hiding a chuckle, you choose to lean against a wall, pulling out your phone to check for notifications.

aCT on it AcT on it [ 11.45 AM ]: a little birdy told mike that ur sick

Mother is mothering [ 11.45 AM ]: what did u do and why

aCT on it AcT on it [ 11.45 AM ]: he asked, i replied. He has the problem, i have the solution.

Mother is mothering [ 11.45 AM ]: this is the opposite of hlpeful. Why r u doing this

Mother is mothering [ 11.45 AM ]: helpful*

aCT on it AcT on it [ 11.45 AM ]: r u at pepercino’s?

Mother is mothering [ 11.45 AM ]: yea why

Mother is mothering [ 11.45 AM ]: u didn answer my question

aCT on it AcT on it [ 11.46 AM ]: see u there babes &lt;3

You ignore the next few notifications, shoving your phone back into your pocket with a satisfied grin. Michael exits the shop just as you do, holding a small red plastic bag. You lean over as he opens it to show you what he bought, raising a brow at the bottle of honey lemon tea inside along with two boxes of lozenges.

“Hm.” 

“What? Why? Do you think I got a flavour she didn't like? I knew the grape one was better.” He mutters, only for his entire body to stiffen when he remembers that you’re there. “I mean, it’d just be a waste of my money if she doesn’t take it,” He rolls his eyes with a scowl. 

“Right,” You nod your head, playing along with his little charade. “Wouldn’t want your money to go to waste.” 

You spot the sign for Pepercino’s up ahead, grabbing the cardigan back from Michael and wearing it over your tank top once again. He doesn’t question it, already knowing your intentions. Upon entering the restaurant, the air conditioning’s cool relief hits you with full force as if someone rammed a truck against you. 

You loved it. 

Bounding over to a tired Nicole slumped against the window in the booth seat, you slide in right next to her with a bright grin. “Like the fit?” 

She blinks, registering you and Michael’s presence, the latter arriving at the table and sitting down opposite the both of you. She scans your outfit, nodding in approval. “The lavender was a nice touch,” She admits. 

You laugh delightedly, leaning your head on her shoulder. Surprisingly enough, she allows you to do so without complaint. “Here.” You glance up at Michael who places the red plastic bag from earlier in front of Nicole, whose eyes widen slightly at the sudden gift. She opens it and pulls out the bottle of honey lemon tea, a grateful smile ghosting across her lips. 

“Don’t waste my money. I could’ve used it to take another girl out.”

Moment? Ruined.

“Whatever,” Nicole scoffs, her gaze hardening as she opens it with brute strength, chugging it down and slamming it back onto the tabletop. You automatically move away from her shoulder, shaking your head at Michael’s baffled expression. 

“I already ordered for us,” She informs you, proceeding to ignore Michael’s presence. 

“Pancakes?”

“With bacon on top.” She nods. The server arrives just as she finishes her sentence, placing three hot plates down on the table and giving Michael a fist bump which he slowly returns, his gaze still trained on Nicole. “Here.” She shoves Michael’s plate toward him, and he snaps out of his thoughts before beginning to shovel the scrambled eggs into his mouth at the speed of light.

You and Nicole both dig into your own plates, and you hum happily at the soft, yet fluffy and perfectly cooked pancakes drenched in maple syrup and whipped cream. A single bite has you reeling in pleasure from the mildly sweet tinge of strawberries cutting through the richness of everything else. The whipped cream melts on your tongue as if you just bit into the softest cloud. 

There’s only one word to describe this: Euphoria.

You blink, looking down at your empty plate, fork and knife poised and ready for more. Michael had already placed some of his scrambled eggs and toast on Nicole’s plate in exchange for some of her pancakes, taking the last bite with a satisfied smile.

She pops a lozenge into her mouth, glancing briefly at the flavour before sticking out her tongue. “Lime?” 

“The superior lozenge flavour of them all.” You nod, taking one for yourself before handing the server twenty five dollars. He takes it with a smile, waving goodbye to all three of you as you exit. “I think it’s about a ten minute walk from here.” You pull out your phone to check, Michael absentmindedly taking the cardigan you hand to him once more.

“This way.” Nicole instructs, navigating through the streets without worry. A short while later, you stop in front of a tall building, relishing the moment of shade it provides, shielding you all from the sun. 

Right. This is it.

You take a deep breath, straightening your top and posture, adjusting your jeans and subtly checking your reflection.

“You coming or what?” Michael calls out, raising a brow at your strange behaviour. Nicole is already inside, talking with the receptionist. You plaster a smile on your face, trying to push aside the sudden nerves that have your palms clammy with sweat. 

“Coming!” You reply cheerfully, though you're feeling anything but. This is the moment you finally meet the elusive Miles Morales. Not as Ray Paynt, not as his kidnapper, but as you.

You, your raw, unfiltered self. You with your trusty sketchbook that doubled as a weapon in times of need. You, with the very contract that basically had freaking spiderman bound to you stored safely in the locked drawer of your bedside table.

Everything will be fine, you reassure yourself, though your smile is uneasy as you grab the bowling shoes Nicole hands to you. You can’t help the way your gaze darts around as if being chased, trying to spot him before he has the chance to find you.

“Yo,” Michael greets a group of people clustered together, and you grin when one of them holds up his fist for a fist bump. You tap it lightly with your palm, grinning at them. 

“Glad you could make it,” Ally says happily, taking your bag and placing it on the bench. She holds out her arms, the many bangles dangling on it making a little jingling sound as she waits for a hug. You wrap your arms around her briefly, pulling away with a hug smile. 

“You kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world.” You reply enthusiastically, noticing a stray fleck of dust on her cheek and using your thumb to gently wipe it away before looking around to see who else had arrived. 

“I wonder why.” Michael says sarcastically, narrowly making his escape by darting away to the snack counter with Jeremy who snickers under his breath, giving him a fist bump.

“Where’s Morales?” You overhear Nicole asking, pulling out your phone to check the time. “He’s late. He better be coming, or I’m gonna drag his ass here.”

“You called?” 

Oh. Oh no. Not now. Hide. You need to hide.

“Hey guys,” Miles says, giving an ecstatic Ally and nonchalant Geoff a quick hug each and pretending to block Nicole’s punches with a playful grin. “What’s good…?” His smile fades once his eyes land on you, his words trailing off. 

“Right! Miles, meet our little pinto.” Michael introduces you cheerfully, Nicole murmuring your real name into his ear. “She transferred into our school a while back. Fair warning though, she’s more capable than she looks.” He laughs, oblivious to the way Miles’s shoulders tense, fingers curling into a fist as they rest at his sides.

“Yeah, I know.” Miles mutters under his breath.

“Bless up,” You greet weakly with a small smile, your high five going unreciprocated. You awkwardly lift your other hand up, high-fiving yourself instead as the group stares at the both of you. You slowly lower yourself down into your seat, clearing your throat and pretending to not notice how very, very tense the atmosphere had suddenly become.

Good save, you mentally compliment yourself on the sheer nonchalance of the action.

“Have you met before, or…?” Ally glances between you both with a clueless smile.

“Uh, well-” Miles spots the subtle shake of your head, “No. This is our first time meeting actually. Nice to meet you.” He draws out your name, the angry glint in his eyes enough to make you look away. 

You never knew bowling alley lights could feel so much like one of those police interrogation rooms you’d only ever seen on TV. But hey, that’s what you get for manipulating the city’s superhero, you suppose.

Okay, so maybe the entire situation is your fault indeed. That much you can admit. 

You look back at him when he scoffs out a sigh of disbelief, sitting down opposite you as the surprise in his eyes shifts to betrayal. You avoid looking him in the eyes, focusing on anything and everything around him instead. You’re pretty sure he’d love to sit anywhere but here, but it’s the only seat available.

Pressing your lips together, you risk a glance and immediately regret it. He’s already looking at you, arms crossed and the corners of his lips hinting at a frown. You gulp, pulling out your phone.

abuelita [ 01.30 PM ]: hi :) ?

His phone chimes with a text and you lift your head. He checks the notification, raising a brow and glancing momentarily at you. 

You gesture to his phone with a sheepish smile. “You gonna get that, or…?” 

bug [ 01.31 PM ]: what

You wince at the hidden bite in his text.

abuelita [ 01.31 PM ]: i was gonna tell u, i swear

abuelita [ 01.31 PM ]: i just didnt kno when…?

bug [ 01.31 PM ]: who even is ray paynt then

abuelita [ 01.31 PM ]: repeat that to urself 3x 

He quickly mutters the fake name you gave him under his breath, eyes widening in realisation once it hits him. 

“Spray paint.”

“Don’t you already have some?” Michael asks, suddenly making an appearance and choosing to sit next to Miles with a grin. “If you need some, I know a guy.”

“I don’t need spray paint. I need answers,” He mumbles the last part, Michael shrugging and grabbing one of the bowling balls. “Do what you gotta do, dude. But know that you are going down today.”

He chuckles slightly at that, his jaw tense and shoulders stiff. You allow your gaze to trail over him, observing every nook and cranny that the shadows of his face settle in, the lighting of the bowling alley casting a light neon that reflects in his eyes.

Your fingers itch for your pencil and sketchbook. 

You flinch when he turns back to face you, locking eyes. Your first instinct is of course, to smile. 

Besides, only a lunatic would get angry at someone smiling at them.

The lunatic sitting across from you suddenly stands up, moving over to grab your wrist and tug you up as well. You stumble, balancing yourself and about to question him when the look in his eyes makes you fall silent.

“Where’re you guys going?” Geoff calls out, and you glance up at Miles who makes no move to turn around.

“It’s nothing, we’re just gonna get some nachos!” You call out with a nervous chuckle, Geoff nodding in approval at the prospect of his beloved snack and oblivious to the fact that you’re being dragged away. 

He finally stops at the snack counter, queuing up for the aforementioned nachos. He drops your hand and turns around with the most anger you’d seen in his eyes. There was also wariness, but it’s overshadowed by the tight-lipped smile on his face. 

“Okay, what’s your angle?”

“What angle?” You purse your lips into a frown, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

“Your angle! Everyone has an angle. Look, when you made me sign the contract I already knew this isn’t gonna end well. I thought I could’ve persuaded you to rip it up or something, but you keep somehow venturing away. I take my eyes off of you for one minute and bam! You’re gone!” Miles rants, running his hand through his hair in irritation and sheer frustration.

What happened next is definitely not your fault. Not even in the slightest.

“Are you saying you’ve been following me, Morales?” You gasp, holding your hands up to your mouth as your eyes widen in playful shock. The words and actions were instinctive, and happened faster than your brain could process.

There’s no choice now. You have to follow through.

“Do you have a crush on me or something? I mean, I’m flattered, but damn, at least ask me out first,” You laugh, patting a very, very stunned Miles. His lips are parted but no words escape, wide eyes trying to comprehend the utter ridiculousness of your very sentence.

“What would you like to order?” You glance at the chirpy cashier who waits patiently, then back at the boy who’s still clearly in shock. You take one look at the menu on the counter, making a quick decision when you realise you’re the next ones to order.

“Nachos and some popcorn chicken please.”

“Would you like the nachos with or without beans-?”

“I do NOT have a crush on you.” Seemingly recovered from his earlier dumbfoundedness, Miles hisses the last part of his sentence with some venom, hands curled into fists as he shakes his head, trying to gain some semblance of calm.

‘With beans’, you mouth at the cashier who’s watching this exchange with an awkward smile. She nods, moving to prepare your order even though there’s already staff behind allocated to making the food. You didn’t blame her for waiting to move away from this, wishing desperately that she’d take you with her.

Unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side today it seems.

“Dang, that’s too bad. I was gonna turn you down nicely too.” 

“Is this a joke to you?” Miles crosses his arms. Now that you have the chance to observe him up close without his mask, it’s intriguing to see how much of an open book he truly is. His tone is laced with disbelief, and is that a twinge of hurt at the end you hear?

A hint of distress flits across his features, disappearing as quickly as it came. The corner of his lips is twisted downwards, his brows furrowing as he waits for an answer. 

“I’m not trying to joke. I’m sorry,” You sigh, letting your arms fall to your sides in defeat, “I just thought that like- I just kinda- Look,” You wring your head in your hands for a brief second, trying to formulate the right words to say. “I’m sorry I lied to you about my name, okay? I didn’t even know I’d ever meet you as myself. Not in this situation, anyway.” You add the last part, gesturing to the bowling area where the rest of your friends are.

He takes a moment to contemplate your words, and you notice the cashier’s not-so-subtle gaze from afar, not wanting to be a part of whatever the conversation is, but still curious nonetheless.

“I’m sorry I lied to you.” You repeat once more, taking out your wallet in preparation for the nachos that are slowly making their way over in the hands of the reliable cashier. Miles stays silent, chewing on his bottom lip in thought as to whether or not he should even accept your apology. You hope he would, seeing that it’s not half-assed after all.

“That’ll be 8.50.” You pull out a ten-dollar bill, handing it to the cashier who places the plate of nachos down on the counter. She’s about to ring it up and hand you back the change, when Miles takes two packets of M&Ms, glancing briefly at you as he mutters, “She’s paying.”

You happily nod, spotting his slightly more relaxed shoulders, though there’s still some tension in his jaw. “Does this mean we’re good?” You ask, the both of you walking back to the group.

He pops a few M&Ms into his mouth, taking his time to chew before side-eyeing you. “You better increase my pay, and I want a full explanation next time.”

“Of course,” You breathe, relieved that he’s not as angry as you thought he’d be. Sure, the fragile bond that you’d gradually developed with him is definitely back in it’s starting stages now, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t become civil again.

Cheered up by the thought, you hand the nachos to Geoff who immediately starts inhaling them piece by piece, Tiff smacking his arm and scolding him to make sure there’s enough for everyone.

Taking a seat next to Nicole, you lean your head on her shoulder. “You good?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, your eyes following one specific person who’s interacting with everyone else. “I hope so.”

It’s silent for a while between you both, before Nicole realises who you’re looking at and snorts.

“Y’know, you didn’t hear it from me, but he has cooties.”

— — — — — 

Mother is mothering [ 09:45 PM ]: sent a file [selfie1.jpg]

Mother is mothering [ 09:45 PM ]: sent a file [selfie2.jpg]

Mother is mothering [ 09:45 PM ]: sent a file [selfie3.jpg]

aCT on it AcT on it [ 09:46 PM ]: god ur naming skills have gotten so much worse

Mother is mothering [ 09:46 PM ]: u literally named your vacuum ‘roundy’

aCT on it AcT on it [ 09:46 PM ]: touche.

— — — — — 

abuelita [ 09:55 PM ]: sooooo u good? U free next week?

abuelita [ 09:55 PM ]: was thinking of going to the bowling alley again i kinda like the lighting

bug [ 10:00 PM ]: we just went thr today?

abuelita [ 09:55 PM ]: yes but like lighting and i didn have my sketchbook with me :(

bug [ 10:00 PM ]: idk hv to c

abuelita [ 10:02 PM ]: betbetbet, sweet dreams

abuelita [ 10:02 PM ]: try not to follow me tmr if u can help it :) 

bug [ 10:05 PM ]: ok

— — — — — 

@oh-kurva @queerponcho @sleepingnova @1theestallionyas @horologiumwise @ken-zah @sockgoblin @itstooearly-its3am @anuncalledbridge @ditto737 @sophipet @mirophobic @dilucpegg3r @urmotherswhor3 @arraxthatsonjah @ameliabs-world @superiorbyfar @swaqlover @janyiahsucks-blog @choco-malk-blog @akemiixx01 @a-cult-leader @berryunderscore @scarletrosesposts @stargirlhayven @bellstwd @edgyficuselastica @psyche404 @sukisprettyface @brunnetteiwik @axeoverblade @amo-a-los-postres

[honeybadgercomeback]

Come Back, Be Here (Part One) | DR3

Five years pass in the blink of an eye and you’ve sacrificed so much to support the man you love. But you can’t keep doing it. When you make the decision to end things you have to carry through to find who you are again.

AN: Part two will be up in the next couple of days. If you’d like to be notified leave a comment and I’ll tag you!

Warnings: heavy angst, breakups, lying.

—

The day you made your decision was really just the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was more hotel rooms, more planes, more lines added to your flight tracking app. You’d travelled around the world more than twice already in the year and it was only August.

You’d end up at yet another race track where you’d had your photo taken more times than you could count. Those professional photos that you were never happy with got posted to instagram accounts run by people who claimed they knew who you were and what you stood for. To yet more flights and more frequent flier miles than you ever thought anyone could have. Planning flights based on airline rather than price to keep earning them, your permanent status just increasing. First class tickets you never could afford to every location, sitting in airline lounges and smiling when people came up to Daniel to wish him luck or ask for a photo.

And every few months you got dressed up for one event or another. A gala, a charity, some sponsor party because everyone wanted to see “Daniel Ricciardo’s other half”. Getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t buy and jewellery that was loaned to you by designers. Standing on a red carpet with your fiancé’s arm around you as he gave that familiar wide grin and you played the fawning date.

You hated every single moment of it, and you didn’t know when you’d started hating it.

It was all for Daniel, and you loved him so you did everything that was asked. You did the busy days and the ridiculous travel. Ignored the hate comments on every single photo you posted on your instagram account - even a photo of the cake you’d baked for a friend’s birthday got comments about how it didn’t look good. You used Twitter Circles and Close Friends judiciously on social media, all of your accounts with that familiar blue tick because you were a “public figure”.

Instead of taking the first choice job you wanted to have you’d declined it because it was in an office five days a week. You’d taken the one you didn’t want as much because it was flexible work and you could do it from anywhere in the world so you got to travel with Dan. You made it to every race on the calendar with him, a fixture in the back of the garage of whatever team he was racing with. You’d wear his merch and have headphones on to listen to the team radio as he raced. Wherever he went, you followed because you were The Ricciardos and of course you were there. The engagement ring that had been on your left hand for eighteen months just proved it.

But you still saw what people said whenever you were in the paddock. How people made snide comments about your job because you were always there, and if you weren’t in McLaren hospitality waiting on Dan you were in Red Bull with Kelly. You were friendly with the other wives and girlfriends of drivers, you’d been there the second longest now. You were the one who was at every race, and when women came for the first time with their now public relationship you were the one who welcomed them to the chaos. And set up the new whatsapp groups whenever they were needed. You blamed Pierre for how many you needed most of the time really.

It was you and Kelly as the focal point of the group. Your partners were best friends, you got along and knew what was going on, it was a natural fit. You could put the smile on and grin and hug, helping everyone keep their head up high. When a crash happened you’d seek out whoever needed comfort and remind them of the safety that was there now. It fit you well.

But you were drowning in it.

August was supposed to be the summer break but Dan was in Woking for yet more McLaren meetings. He’d told you it was normal, part of the organisation for the third year of his contract. You were plugged into the paddock gossip, you knew what was being said, how people talked about your fiancé. The way people talked about how Dan was getting what was coming to him, a new young Australian taking over from the washed out one. The way Blake looked at you sadly, as if he was barely biting his tongue, every time someone mentioned contracts or gossip.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be in love, be loved. Racing would always be Daniel’s first love but you could fit in there somewhere with him. Be a priority for him. Except you weren’t his priority anymore. The fact that your fifth anniversary came and went without him acknowledging it or even texting you a hello. That was the crystal clear moment that whatever you wanted was not a priority compared to his career, and you deserved better than that. You deserved to be more than an afterthought.

Once the decision was made it was easy to organise moving out. Finding an apartment in Nice was the first thing to do and it was shockingly easy. Monaco was out, the streets too small and filled with memories. Once you were settled in an apartment you could look at a new job or new country, but away from the principality was enough for now. Then it was packing up your life.

Most of your belongings were presents from Daniel. It had become his habit to try pay for everything, the income disparities clear between you. It was with the kindest of intentions but had become a gilded cage that you couldn’t escape. You didn’t know who you yourself were anymore. You didn’t know how to be anyone except F1 WAG. Daniel Ricciardo’s fiancée. The woman with so many gossip column inches it felt wrong. The Daily Mail had a category for your name at this point and that was never who you wanted to be. You’d lost yourself and you needed to find yourself again.

You got the train to Nice and signed your month to month lease for a furnished apartment. It was unusual to have one, but the letting agent recognised your face and accepted it without a moment’s thought. Once it was signed your next stop was to rent a car to bring your belongings to the small apartment.

It was simple and you had a plan. Pack your boxes of your belongings, put them in the car, drive. It took two trips to get most of them over, the final set sitting there until you decided to leave for the final time.

You had to tell Daniel in person. He deserved to have his heart broken in front of you, rather than by phone or text. He was good and loyal and he wasn’t a bad guy, this just didn’t work anymore. He deserved someone who could support him fully. It wasn’t something you could keep doing.

You sat in the living room after getting the text that he’d landed in Nice, knowing that this was the last time. You weren’t going to see him again and that hurt. You were leaving for good and never coming back here. Your engagement ring was in the green leather jewellers box he’d proposed with, sitting on what had been your bedside locker. Taking it off your finger and pushing it into the velvet cushion was when you’d shed your first tear. It was small and neat and exactly what you’d wanted, and you’d loved it from the moment he flipped the box open. Asses online had said it wasn’t enough for a millionaire’s fiancée, that you obviously didn’t mean much to him.

You didn’t want the ring or the money. You wanted Daniel. But you couldn’t have him in a way that would make you both happy.

“I’m home!” His voice echoed around the living room as he arrived in, dropping bags on the floor and you pulled him in for a hug. This was the last one you’d share and doing this when you knew things weren’t good for him professionally hurt but you had to. You couldn’t lose more of yourself.

“Hey. How was the factory?”

“Good. We need to talk about some of my—“

“Dan, I know.” He stopped still at your words. “But we need to talk about something else.”

“I’ve got a couple of offers on the table, and we’ll be—“

“Daniel.” Your voice was soft and he stared at you. His brown eyes opened wide and it felt like he was properly seeing you for the first time in what felt like years. He looked like that Daniel you’d fallen in love with in 2017, a Red Bull star with a wide smile and wild curls. You hadn’t know what you were jumping into when you danced with the man in the nightclub and went home with him. You couldn’t have guessed how your life would change. That the next five years would be the best and worst of your life and he made the highs even higher but the lows so much lower. He made everything better and worse at the same time. He took you in fully and you could tell when his eyes caught the missing jewellery.

“Where’s your ring? Were…were you robbed? What’s going on?” They were halfhearted questions as you shook your head and the reality began to sink into him.

“You know as well as I do that this isn’t working. And I’m so sorry things are ending now. But we…it’s the wrong time for us. I can’t love you the way you need and you can’t support me the way that I need. I’m sorry.”

He looked at you for a solid minute in the silence, it was as if you could see his heart break.

“But we love each other?” That it was a question cut you like a knife.

“I don’t think it’s enough. I’m not enough for you.” It was those words that made his face crumble and you took a step back, looking down at the tiled floor. You couldn’t cry. You were the one hurting him, you didn’t get to cry in front of him.”

“You are. I swear you’re enough. You’re more than enough.”

“Be happy, Daniel Ricciardo. Be happy.”

All you wanted to do was squeeze his hand and take the pain away but you couldn’t. Instead you slipped past him in your worn out sneakers and left through the front door, closing it with a gentle click.

The routine to leave the building was practiced. A few steps to the elevator, down the floors, and out. Except this time you were going to the parking garage in the basement to get the rental car and leave, and for the first time in so long someone else got into the elevator a few floors below what had been yours.

“Hey, I haven’t…is everything ok?” Max looked at your tear streaked face as you blinked back the worst ones, wiping your face roughly with your hand.

“Will you look after him for me? He’s gonna need you now.” It took a few moments for your words to sink in as he stared at you.

“What happened? Did you have a fight? You know he’ll be down in a minute to fix whatever he did, he loves you.”

“I ended things.” The shock on his face was clear as the doors shut to bring you both down. “I ended things about two minutes ago, and he’ll need his friends. I know I’ve no right to ask this, but please. Look after him for me.”

“You can work this out. Come up to ours, stay with us for a night. Think this over.”

“Max I have. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. He forgot our anniversary and that was the final thing. He deserves someone who can support him the way he needs, and that’s not me right now. He deserves to be happy. I can’t help him be happy. Just please. You and Seb and Estie can help him. I can’t.”

You’d arrived in the garage and Max watched you step out of the elevator with him, heading to the small hatchback that stood out in the area filled with sports cars.

“Where are you going?”

“I got an apartment. I’m going to find out who I am. It’ll be worth it.”

You didn’t expect the Dutchman to wrap you in a hug but he pulled you close, squeezing for a moment before letting go.

“If you need anything. Day or night, no matter where in the world I am, you call ok? You’re like a sister to me, call me whenever you need. And Kelly will be in touch soon to see you, P is gonna miss her aunt.”

“I will.” It was a bare faced lie but it made him look lighter so you told it easily. As far as you were concerned you weren’t going to see them again.

Once you made it into Nice and parked you picked up your phone, pulling up the Find my iPhone app. It took far too few swipes to hide your location from Dan and Kelly, making sure they couldn’t see you. Once you did that you went into the WAG WhatsApp, this one entitled “oh god they’re home for two weeks what’s this chaos”. It took little time to set Kelly as an admin and then leave the chat with a waving emoji and a red heart.

The very last thing to do was to go into an Orange shop and get a new SIM card with a new number. You snapped the old SIM between your fingertips to get rid of it. It was over. You had your new fresh start but it didn’t feel like one.

Part Two

Tags: @vroomvroommbtch

[clouseplayssims]

Okay I can post this now! These are from before I removed a lot of the desk clutter - including the dang ashtrays which I should have just left lol.

The idea was that their were two agents working under the main boss (whose office is through the door) and one of them was a slob nepo-hire while the other was a type-A overachiever.

This would have been an agency originally opened in the 50s but present timeline would be closer to the early 70s, which meant a mixture of furniture as things were replaced throughout the years.

As you can see the "slob" doesn't really care so much about presentation. He's got a dirty mug, a travel brochure, and is in the process of making a sale so things are strewn about everywhere. And yes, he smokes indoors.

The Typa-A overachiever was hired because her slob co-worker, the son of the founder, was terrible at his job. THey needed somebody organized or the business was going to go bust. She lives for calendars and files and notebooks, probably writes contracts in her sleep, and keeps tidy little pamphlets of various world locations right at her desk with the latest information on world travel. She also added cute little throw pillows to her guest chairs to make things seem more friendly.

I wanted a TV because it seems like the ideal way to show off travel commercials for locations to really sell the vacations they're offering. There's a few newspaper articles on the wall from the businesses heyday and the slob replaced Type-A's picture as employee of the month with a llama because he thought it was funny.

Type-A is absolutely the one in charge of the "waiting" space. She stocks the teas and coffees, brings in fresh flowers, and even recovered the old chairs with something a bit more bright and colorful.

I'm disappointed you can't see more of the outside from these windows. I built a whole row of townhouses!

Here you can inside the other office attached to the space - I imagine once people sign their contracts and book their trips they take a picture in front of the sign in their as a way to celebrate their upcoming vacations.

I had a lot of fun participating in this competition, officially out now but it was a fun experience!

[2travelingdogs]

What Your Calendar Says

What Your Calendar Says “Don’t get so caught up in dates that you forget where you are and the blessings of any ordinary day.” Monday’s Dog Blog

This is Fruitycake The Raccoon. It was a rough weekend. So many noises and booms. So many persons yelling and acting like something huge and exciting was happening. But the whole time, I just wondered what in the world the big deal was. Wasn’t it just the next day after the day that we just had? View this post on Instagram A post shared by 2TravelingDogs (@2travelingdogs) Girl Person told me…

[unsweetenedlettucewrap]

now that the drivers are talking about the strain that travel put on them and especially their teams this year, it would be a good idea to look at the 2024 f1 calendar

above is the 2024 schedule with an accompanying flight map i drew. there are so many races, too many to be honest, and the flight map is insane. there is so much backtracking over continents and the constant time changes is sure to take a toll on everyone who is travelling.

considering that the fia is not very likely to cut down on the number of races, i have proposed a hypothetical calendar for next year that is more eco friendly and more travel friendly for the drivers at their teams

there are a few things i considered

1. climate

the climate in some races means you can't just move them anywhere, but im pretty sure that this accommodates for all the climates that would effect f1

2. location & travel

obviously this takes into account travel by grouping similar locations together. this reduces the environmental impact of so much travel as much as possible, and is easier on people's bodies especially for those team members who aren't drivers travelling in private jets or first class. another reason i like this is that it means that they are in the middle east for the first two months of the season, and then they are in europe until the last full weekend in august. this allows them to spend more time with their families from march until august as they are close to where most drivers live with their families in central or western europe.

3. equipment

not to get into specifics but i was looking into how they transport the spare car parts and the pits themselves, and how it works right now is usually there's an asia/australia cargo ship, an americas cargo ship, and a middle east cargo ship for out of europe races. the way this schedule works out is the ships can move back and forth between places without sticking to this schedule but still getting there in time (i have more thoughts on this i can elaborate if necessary)

things i consider to be hinderances:

1. start/end races

obviously it's still starting in the same place in bahrain but i didn't end it in abu dhabi. of course this is easily fixed by just putting abu dhabi after suzuka, although that's a rough journey

2. brazil to australia

the other thing is that there is a double header that ends up being brazil to australia, but this can be fixed again by moving mexico city and brazil back by two weeks so the break in the fall happens between brazil and australia instead of vegas and mexico on the adjusted calendar

this will never happen, the fia doesn't care about it's drivers and their teams, but i can dream right?

[xanadontit]

The ongoing saga of my brother's college application process and my resentment over how I'm included/dismissed as a member of this family continues. A two-for-one bitch fest! Keep reading if you're into that kind of thing.

My brother applied to about a million universities and got into roughly 75% of a million of them, which is great. He has some wonderful options and hopefully won't go into bonkers debt for it. He also sounds genuinely excited by the idea of getting to pursue things that interest him (computer science, robotics, engineering). Great. Love this for him.

As previously noted, my parents have been very "hey whatever, man" about this process which is lovely in theory (he doesn't need more pressure) but also creates a last minute crisis/crisis-lite when it's 11:45pm and applications are due at midnight and he's having a panic attack about if he should apply to CalPoly or something. They also decided it was pointless to tour any schools until he was accepted because they didn't want him to fall in love with a place and not get in. Which...OK. But, did he also maybe apply to places sight unseen that he wouldn't have had he even traveled to the city where the school is located (looking at you, Northridge)? Yes he sure did. I voiced my concerns about this and dropped it once it was clear that my opinion was noted and dismissed.

Now that he has just under a month to make a decision it's this mad rush to go on "real" tours (not just drive by the campus, which my stepmom thinks is basically the same thing) and make a decision and figure out what to do since he was waitlisted at his first choice but feels good about his second choice and and and. A lot of questions but instead of picking up the phone and calling the admissions office to see what's up they are doing nothing and are all out of ideas.

Maybe you can see where this is going.

Now that they're overwhelmed guess who they want to step in and help? GUESS. Why yes, it's your friendly neighborhood eldest daughter/only remotely organized person in this family. Except my job doesn't have a ton of flexibility so I can't just fly down to Long Beach or drive up to Chico on a random Tuesday, and I don't think it's my job to call UC Davis and see what's the deal with the waitlist. It just isn't! Hell, he's 18 and it's where he wants to go. Get dialing, Kid!

And of course there's the "we thought you'd want to help" guilt bullshit that compounds my frustration, but when I offer a solution or point out that Chico has their prospective student event this weekend and I could take him then it won't work because of baseball or other plans. Oh and he's spending part of his spring break on a road trip with friends so there's 5 days he won't be doing anything. I cannot bend space and time so maybe we work within the calendar days we have and make a plan and then execute it. He was accepted into four schools before Christmas and had months to schedule tours and didn't. Yes I want to help where I can but could they try not to make it such an assache?

I know in the end it will be fine or even great but in the meantime it's a hassle which it doesn't need to be which is the worst kind, to me at least.

[burnwater13]

Garsa Fwip's Sanctuary in Mos Espa, on Tatooine. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 2, The Tribes of Tatooine. Calendar from DateWorks.

Grogu had heard of ‘Cantina Culture’, but honestly he thought it had something to do with infectious disease control. All sorts of people travelled to Tatooine and as a planet with a limited water supply, hygiene practices that were typical on Corellia or Chandrila couldn’t be readily employed. You had to bring your own sanitizer and you had to understand that the sanitizing stations at the space port near Mos Eisley had run out of sanitizing anything a long time ago. 

He was explaining that all to Peli Motto when she began to laugh, loudly and with more gusto than a serious discussion of public hygiene deserved. 

“Buddy, ‘Cantina Culture’ isn't about that kind of biology. It’s about the people who go to a cantina and the sort of things they expect of that cantina. For instance, here, everyone who goes into the cantina knows ya gotta be able to play sabacc. If ya can’t play, ya stay. Simple rule. Now, take Mos Pelgo…”

Grogu waved his hands to interrupt her to no avail.

“They… Okay, okay, Freetown, whatever. Any how, up there ya gotta have a spotchka. Ya gotta share the latest gossip. Ya gotta laugh at the Marshal’s jokes. That’s how they roll up there. Over in Mos Espa, well, there you better have more credits than ya know what to do with. Those Twi’lek dancers and servers will spend it for ya before you can say, ‘No, I don’t want my boots polished’. Even if I had boots needing polishing I wouldn’t let them do it at three times the cost of having the pit droids do it. Ridiculous waste of credits.”

She stopped talking to take a breath and then didn’t start back up. 

“Where was I? Oh, yeah, depending on the town, the people, the products available, and a bunch of other factors, every cantina you walk into is nothing like the last cantina you were in. That’s ‘Cantina Culture’. I’m surprised yer dad didn't explain that to ya. Although, come ta’ think of it, do Mandalorian’s even have cantinas?”

Peli was looking at him expectantly as if he and his dad had been to a bunch of them over the course of their adventures. He shrugged at her. He didn’t think that Mandalorians bothered with stuff like that. They were too busy trying to make sure that ex-Imps weren’t hiding around the corner from everywhere they were.

“Well, when yer dad gets back, he can tell us all about ‘em.”

Peli had settled the matter to her own satisfaction and then walked back to her office, yelling at the pit droids to get her boots and start polishing them. Grogu giggled at that. You never knew which part of a conversation you had with her was going to be the part that stuck. Grogu doubted that she’d remember to ask his dad about Mandalorian cantinas and what kind of culture they had. 

Grogu thought that was a silly question any way. Based on everything they already knew about Din Djarin and the handful of other Mandalorians he’d met, Grogu could tell you just what a Mandalorian cantina was like. 

First, it wasn’t called a cantina. It was called a ‘bar’. It was called that because cantina sounded too fun and tavern was too friendly. ‘Bar’ conveyed the right sort of purposefulness of the establishment. Get in, get out, get back to work.

Mandalorians were very deliberate people and they didn’t mess around with subtleties. You lined up at the bar top and were given a drink with a straw and you put your foot on the bar at the bottom of the structure to allow you to rest a little. No chairs. No tables. No booths. No music. No decorations. No problems. 

Grogu had no doubt that they entered and left in shifts and were only allowed there at certain times of day and on certain days of the week. Organized, methodical, routine, predictable, boring certainty. 

Then he considered what a Jedi cantina would be like. He sighed and laughed at the same time. His first thought was that it would be empty and his second thought was it would be the absolute opposite of a Mandalorian bar. It would be filled with sound. At least two or three different sources of music would be present and playing at the same time. You would just focus on the one you liked better and you wouldn’t even notice the others. The furniture would look like it had been found at a recycling center. It would be every size, every style, every color and just pushed into the large room in a manner that would immediately suggest that it had once been used to barricade the entry. 

Grogu didn’t know who would have been foolish enough to try and attack a Jedi cantina. Only a bunch of fools. Of course the Jedi wouldn’t have called it a cantina either. They would have given it a semi-ironic nickname like a ‘watering hole’ or a lounge. The images those names evoked were almost opposites and that's just what the Jedi would have been counting on. No reason to advertise that the location was primarily about goofing off and playing chess or darts with your fellow knights and masters, no padawans allowed. 

He giggled at that. He suspected that rule would apply to younglings as well, but he couldn’t imagine a Jedi watering hole that would have been able to keep Ian out. His friend had an absolute sixth sense for spaces like that and had made a regular study of them at the Jedi Temple. That’s how Master Yoda’s private swamp ended up hosting a younglings festival night when the powerful Jedi had been called away to travel to Trymant IV.  Grogu wished that event had established a youngling cantina culture, but you couldn’t hide a fifty foot water slide from Master Yoda, no matter how many of the younglings worked together to make it disappear.

“Hey buddy, I’m back. Peli said you wanted to go to the Cin Vhetin.”

The Mandalorian was suddenly there and seemed pretty happy for a change. 

Grogu asked why.

“Peli said you wanted to see a real honest to B’Omarr Mandalorian drinking establishment. One just opened here in Mos Eisley. If we go now they’ll still have Fire Stacks. You won’t want to miss them.”

Huh? A Mandalorian drinking establishment that served food? You could have knocked Grogu over with a feather. His dad wanted to get something to eat that wasn't a ration pack? Grogu jumped up into his dad’s arms and bumped his head against the Mandalorian’s helmet. He thought it was important to encourage his dad to go new places and try new things, especially when he was along for the ride.