#but i'm pretty sure he's bored enough he just races to get there first and see what havoc he can cause

[princesssmars]

practical magick

a stiles stilinski x witch!reader

plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.

wc : 4.678

contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.

a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.

for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.

he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.

yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."

just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.

"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.

its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.

a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.

"its closer," he thinks.

he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.

at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-

in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.

he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.

you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.

you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.

"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."

before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven

"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."

turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.

his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.

he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.

"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"

your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.

"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"

"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.

"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.

he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.

he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.

"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”

yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.

“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”

"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"

"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"

"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.

you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.

when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.

"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”

he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-

“hurry up.”

he rushes to catch up behind you.

after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.

magic, duh.

you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.

"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"

"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."

"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.

"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."

"thank you. why is he doing it?"

"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"

"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.

"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"

you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.

"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."

he blinks. "thanks. i guess."

"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."

that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.

he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.

“you just did. but go ahead.”

“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”

you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.

“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”

“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.

“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.

“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”

something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.

“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”

“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”

he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.

“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."

you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.

“you’ve got a deal.”

after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.

when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.

before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.

as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.

the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.

"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"

"you said i could."

"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."

"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."

"really funny."

(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)

but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.

he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.

"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."

"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."

"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"

"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"

it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.

"im sorry."

"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.

he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.

"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."

he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."

you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.

"its not fair."

"its not."

"...thank you."

"don't mention it."

you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-

"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"

hey, that works for him.

as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.

"please. just give it a minute."

and so he did.

only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.

"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"

"bye stiles."

he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.

deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.

"where'd you get that bracelet?"

"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"

deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."

"could you explain them to me? just because you know."

the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.

"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."

stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.

"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."

this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.

"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.

"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"

"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."

"and the one on the bottom?"

"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."

stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.

he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.

(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)

the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.

the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.

what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-

"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."

he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.

"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."

"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.

he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.

"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."

he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.

"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"

you blink. "go ahead."

he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.

"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"

he goes into a near coughing fit.

"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"

before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.

"can i kiss you?"

"yes, god yes-"

your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.

he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.

"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"shut up and kiss me again."

"whatever you say, babe."

for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.

ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.

[cxlbybrock]

Colby Brock x Reader

Hey guys, this is my first story on Tumblr, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave any requests in the comments!

Colby broke up with you a couple years ago, you moved away and moved on. Now, two years after the break up, you return to LA with a new love and a new feisty attitude. Your best friend (let's call her Ash for the sake of simplicity) invites you to a party to welcome you back, she invites Sam but is it only Sam who shows up?

CW: cussing, cheating(?), no smut but a lot of talking about sex and sexual references, teasing, jealousy, 18+ only please

Unpacking was an obvious bore, you had some help from Theo, your boyfriend of one year and your best friend. Now, after a couple years you're returning to LA, a place with too many memories. Both good and bad. You're an influencer, popular for fashion and modelling content, LA is a big centre for pretty much everything. Why would you leave? We'll get into that later.

Ash's phone buzzes on the table, bringing you out from your trance.

"Make sure you get your best outfits out for tonight, Y/N." Ash teases. You roll your eyes, a sarcastic sigh escaping your lips.

"What did you do now?" You raise your eyebrow mockingly, hands on your hips.

"Just make sure you're fucking ready!" Ash's excited voice almost makes it hard for you to keep up with this annoyed facade.

"whose ready for what?" You feel hands snake around your waist and breath ghosts your neck. Ordinarily, it'd send goosebumps up your spine, make your heart race or even your cheeks flush. Not today. You put it off as the stress of moving into a new apartment but lying to yourself is still lying.

"You guys are going to be ready, dress nice later and meet me at my house around 9 o'clock." Ash smirks devilishly. Her demeanor is troublesome and worrying you, if you know your best friend you know she's planning something. Ash's plans are always stupidly insane.

Pulling out your phone, your eyes widen.

"it's already 7:30! Be at your house for 9?! I will not have enough time to get ready!" You scramble away from Theo, he pecks your cheek and you go with Ash to get ready at her place instead. She insisted in fact that Theo show up later and you guys have some 'girl time'.

Plonking yourself down on her bed, her personality switches. Serious; an emotion that she rarely displays.

"Right, I'm not overstepping here or anything but Theo... Do you actually like him?" She asks, if anything your best friend is honest but at this moment you're wishing she wasn't so observant.

"yes, of course." You scoff, lying. Although, is it a lie if you don't currently realise that it isn't true? Either way, she isn't accepting this answer.

"girl, he's literally the most vanilla boring man I have ever seen. He's blonde, wears the same clothes every day and likes boring shit. If he was a spice, he'd be flour. He's so different—"

"—different than what?" You bite back, interrupting Ash. She's unfazed, she's never cared about sharing her opinion and the sad thing is, she isn't wrong.

"than your other boyfriends. I mean, is the sex even exciting? When you were dating Colby, you used to call me everyday and rave about him so much that I even liked him. But Theo... I couldn't tell you one fact about Theo, he's more bland than rice." Honesty, but the sort you'd take the wrong way if it wasn't so true.

Once again, you knew deep down that she was right. You're dating a pretty boy, sure. But he was more like a shell, he wasn't necessarily strong willed and to be honest you didn't even know if he had any long term goals. The conversation continued and before you knew it, the time rolled around and Ash was giving you a blindfold as she led you along.

You decided on a low cut shirt, a pleated skirt and some fishnets (among other accessories). The tips of your black hair tickled your lower back as you walked downstairs.

"why are you wearing all black?" A voice asks, as you remove your blindfold you realise it's Theo.

"I thought it'd look sexy." You shrug, unbothered.

"you look like a weird goth." Theo says pointedly, this bothered you and you could tell you would make a scene but you bit your tongue and pressed on but you were still pissed off.

Many influencers and friends show up to the party, it's incredible and everyone's having a good time and it's nice to have the opportunity to introduce your friends to your boyfriend.

"Hey, Sam's here!" Ash yells over the music, you and Theo step away from the party to greet Sam, a very good old friend of yours. As you approach the front door, there's not one but two people. Sam ... And he brought Colby. Fuck.

You see Colby's eyes scan over your outfit, your curves, his eyes linger on your thighs and your cleavage and it makes your whole body hot. You bite your lip, it's a nervous tic but you can tell Colby thinks it's intentional.

Then, his eyes fall on your boyfriend and he smirks. He barely glances his way before his eyes pierce yours again.

"Y/N! Hey! Welcome back to LA, it's so good to see you again!" Sam smiles warmly and pulls you into a hug, you hug him back and smile brightly in return.

"hey Sam, I missed you so much." You reply before stepping away. "Sam, this is my boyfriend, Theo." You introduce your boyfriend and step aside so he can talk to Sam but he just gives him a weird look and mutters "hi."

"Theo..." You hear Colby whisper, snickering. Stepping forward, he gives you a look that could make any woman fold like a deck chair. "Hey, it's good to see you. You look sexy by the way." He smirks, he knows what he's doing and he's trying to get your boyfriend fired up.

You hit his arm and give him a futile warning look. Much to your dismay though, your boyfriend is unfazed by Colby. As toxic as it sounds, a reaction would've been nice, a little jealousy is hot sometimes.

"Wow... Is your boyfriend a cardboard cutout or something? Did you forget the voice box when you found him on the side of the road?" Colby teases you further and you glare at your ex.

"Colby..." You warn him again and he holds his hands up defensively. However, your boyfriend still doesn't care and it's really bothering you now. He has no spice to him, just like Ash said and the more you look, the more you see it.

Sam diffuses the situation although Colby is really making it his mission to get under Theo's skin.

The night continues without much drama, you're thankful but of course you couldn't have an easy ride. You veer off to grab yourself a drink, leaving Theo behind because honestly even you're getting bored of him now. He won't even dance with you, it's like he doesn't care about you at all.

You flick the bottle cap off the Smirnoff, you consider pouring it into a glass but you decide to just drink it straight out the bottle, it might make the night more bearable.

"woah, steady. I know your man has no personality but it's not like the alcohol is gonna give him any." You turn to the voice, Colby. Only now, can you really take in his appearance. All black, of course. But his rings, his chains, his tattoos... Fuck he looks so sexy— no, no he looks utterly repulsive... What is your brain doing? Your body is going against you and you're so frustrated.

"My man has plenty, thank you." You bite back, irritated. His proximity wasn't something you thought about until one step pinned you to the counter, his hands on either side of you.

"come on, he probably doesn't even last five seconds... No wait, I bet you guys haven't even gotten there yet." Colby reads your expressions and a sinister smirk spreads across his lips "wait he hasn't fucked you yet? Damn it's worse than I thought." His finger traces the hem of your shirt down to your cleavage, it makes your heart race as you try your best to pay as little attention to Colby or how your body responds to him.

"colby, move. You broke up with me, remember?" You glare at him, although let's be real that isn't what you want to do and honestly if you were still single it'd be a different story.

His fingers tug at your fishnets and you feel the cold metal of his rings touch your thighs. You intake a shaky breath and it's hard to keep your composure. "Oh, come on. You don't want me to go away, this is probably the most revved up you've felt in a year..." Colby smirks and leans into your ear, he tucks your hair behind it and you feel his breath ghosting your ear. "I mean... When you touch yourself, I bet you're still thinking about the way I used to do it to you."

Your heart races, goosebumps cover your body. If you don't admit it, it doesn't mean it isn't really happening and right now every fibre in your body wants Colby to bend you over that countertop and give you something you've been missing for the last two years but you keep up your walls.

"don't flatter yourself. It's been years, I've moved on." You bite but every time you bite, he bites harder.

Blue eyes bore into yours as he slides his hand up your thigh towards your skirt, your breath hitches. "Colby I'm in a relationship now, we can't." You want to sound strong but your voice falters, you don't want him to stop and he knows it.

"but you want to." He says pointedly. "Break up with him, I don't understand why you're with him." Colby speaks his mind but with his hands caressing your thighs, honestly it's hard to form a real sentence.

"He's nice." You say, feeling bad that the only thing you could think of was a basic, boring ass word.

"nice... You know why nice guys always finish last?" Colby asks, you shake your head and he smirks like a Cheshire cat "it's because their girlfriends never finish at all." His hands find your ass and he plays with the fishnets around it. "But don't worry..." He squeezes your ass and your fingers grip onto the countertop, you're almost under his spell "... I can always finish you off..." He whispers into your ear, his hands crawl up your body and it sends shivers up your spine.

Before anything in you can respond, the door to the kitchen flies open and your eyes widen.

Let me know if you guys want part two!

[chillicoded]

Lando Norris is NOT an underdog.

This is NOT Lando hate. I don't endorse or tolerate hate towards ANY driver. This is just an opinion.

I had a conversation with somebody on Bumble about the Norris/Verstappen championship battle this season. I was for Verstappen, he was for Norris - no problem whatsoever in itself. After Max's absolute dominance last season, I really can't blame anyone for being bored of Max winning and wanting to see a new driver succeeding. But what Got My Goat is that he said the reason he wants Lando to win the WDC is because "he's an underdog". I sent a (pretty lengthy) message back on why I really don't think Lando qualifies as an underdog, and he never got back to me to defend his position. Maybe I scared him off, or maybe he just wasn't on Bumble to debate the nuances of what it means to be an underdog. Either way, I figured the topic would make a good first opinion post because I'm more likely to get a discussion out of it here, plus I have extra thoughts to add.

To me, an underdog is somebody who is disadvantaged because of the external resources available to them, in comparison to those they are competing against. For an F1 driver, that's the car, the team, the strategy, the experience they have in F1, the track (not just condition, but whether or not it suits their car) and momentary bursts of luck, among countless other variables. A good "underdog coming out on top" narrative comes from a person or character (in this case a driver) performing well or succeeding despite lacking the ideal resources to do so.

It's important to note that I don't think skill counts as an external resource. I also think skill is hard to measure. I personally would measure it in terms of results, consistency and versatility, but even within that, I feel like you need to take all of the external factors into account. For example, DNFing or dropping way back because of a collision, bad luck with the car or a botched pit stop would make a dent in a driver's consistency and results, but it doesn't mean they're less skilled.

Underdog narratives do exist in F1. The Alpine double podium in Brazil was a great underdog narrative. The Alpine car is hardly competitive most of the time. At the start of the season it was an absolute tractor. I don't know enough about the team, strategies, pit stops, etc. to comment on those, but regardless, I don't think anyone was expecting a double podium from them this season because Alpine just hasn't been competing at the front of the field. Yet, despite all that, both drivers finished on the podium and scored mad points in easily the most unpredictable race of the season.

Franco Colapinto performing well and scoring points, despite being dumped into Williams mid-season with a firmly midfield car and no experience, is also an underdog narrative. He's far outperformed Logan Sargeant already and has been battling with some of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and coming out on top. I don't think anyone was expecting all this from him when he was first brought into F1. Personally I saw a lot of people saying that they were booting out one underprepared F2 driver, and replacing him with another underprepared F2 driver. I was part of that crowd too. Sorry Franco. I was not familiar with your game.

Even Carlos Sainz's win at Singapore last year could be considered an underdog narrative. Sure, he started on pole and he's an experienced driver, but everyone was an underdog compared to Red Bull (mainly Max) last year, and Ferrari didn't have a great car or great strategies. He did have the luck of Max being practically out of sight, having been outqualified by Liam Lawson in an AlphaTauri (another great underdog moment, by the way), but it still takes skill to keep the lead, and his strategic use of Lando goes to show that even further than just the win itself.

These are just a few recent examples. Think about them. Seriously deep them. Revel in how they make you feel.

Now think about Lando's performance this season.

His first win in Miami was great. At the time, I was still a hardcore Lando supporter and I was absolutely thrilled. A few laps before the end of the race, when it became apparent that he was almost definitely going to win, I was already celebrating for him. It had been a long time coming and it was amazing to see him realising the potential I knew he and McLaren had. He's won twice more this season so far, and both times he was ahead by a country mile at the chequered flag. Aside from that first ever win, though, his other impressive performances this year haven't quite evoked the same emotion as my previous examples. That sense that he's overcoming disadvantages and delivering even when the odds are stacked against him just isn't there for me. Why is that?

There's no denying that he's a skilled driver. Three wins in a season with 7 different race winners (6 of whom have won multiple races) isn't too bad at all. He's also been relatively consistent throughout the year, never finishing a race outside the points. He's even been able to adapt to a range of tracks and weather conditions. For example, he finished P6 after the rain and chaos of Brazil, which threw off even some of the other skilled drivers mentioned above like Sainz and Colapinto.

But we're not here to discuss whether or not he's skilled. We're here to discuss whether or not he's an underdog.

Honestly, did you even read the title?

Anyway. Skill doesn't make someone an underdog. I established that earlier. If skill makes someone an underdog, Max Verstappen is probably the underest dog on the current grid, and that's obviously not the case. We need to look into those external factors I mentioned above: things like car, strategy, luck and experience, in comparison to what other drivers have had to work with this year. The less he has, the more of an underdog it makes him.

First and foremost, McLaren's strategies this year have been pretty abysmal. The terrible calls made in instances like the Hungarian Grand Prix and the lack of calls made in instances like Monza lap one have been enough to make me stop supporting McLaren as a team altogether. They insisted that they weren't prioritising the drivers' championship, but with the constructors' practically secured, I honestly find that hard to believe. If it is true, they've been doing a disservice to both drivers: to Lando by not giving proper attention to his very real championship chances, and to Oscar by ordering him to give up positions for Lando and act as a second driver at certain points, apparently for no real reason. Overall, McLaren's strategies have been in Lando's favour at times, but they've rarely been good. It's hard for me to compare McLaren's strategy calls to other teams, though, simply because I don't know enough about other teams' strategy calls. Maybe all the teams have been equally rubbish with strategy this year, so it technically hasn't been putting Lando at a disadvantage. I wouldn't know. If you have any insight on this, let me know and I might make a second, more definitive post about this.

As for luck, Lando has had bouts of both good luck and bad luck so far this year. He had some good luck in Miami, ultimately facilitating his first win, and he had some hard luck in Austria with his collision with Verstappen and Baku with qualifying. I'm not at all suggesting that Lando didn't deserve his first win (honestly, I don't believe that "deserving" matters in this sport at all), but I don't think he would've won that first race without the luck of the safety car, and I'm not sure he would've performed as well as he has without the confidence boost from that first win. With the car he's had this season (and I'll talk about that next), it would've come eventually, but I really do think that momentary burst of luck has been a really important factor in shaping this season for Lando. It has definitely had more of an effect than his moments of poor luck. I think few other lucky instances have had as much of an effect for a team or driver, except maybe Alpine's performance in Brazil.

His car has been a seriously influential factor, too. Of course, no driver's success is all because of the car; the driver and the car always go hand in hand. A less skilled driver can't properly handle a good car (see Pérez) and even a good driver can rarely drag performance that isn't there out of a tractor (see Bottas at Sauber). But, like his luck, the MCL38 has massively facilitated Lando's ability to perform this year. It's a car that has been capable of winning races by over twenty seconds, creating final laps that are reminiscent of Max's dominance last season. That alone begs the question, why has Lando not been performing consistently at that level? Where exactly does the balance of success lie between Lando and his car?

It's definitely worth taking into consideration that top teams this year have certainly given Lando a lot of competition to deal with this year. Even with a dominant car, with around six other drivers able to put up a fight against Lando, he's not in as dominant a position as Max was last year. But there is a difference in skill in certain areas, and it shows in moments like Lando's first lap bottles from pole compared to Max's perfect starts last year, for example. Lando is just not as polished a driver as some of his competitors, and that is something that naturally comes with more experience.

It's hard to say Lando lacks experience, though. 2024 is his fifth season in F1. He's not always had a great car, but now that he does have one, it's clear to see that he knows how to handle it decently well. Compared to Oscar Piastri, though, it doesn't look like his experience is giving him the competitive edge you'd expect. With four years of experience over his teammate, you'd think Lando would be performing at a much higher level, but that just isn't the case. As a quick example, Oscar's average finishing position this season is 4.9. Lando's is only 0.8 higher at 4.1. With that difference in experience, you'd expect a much higher gap in performance... or at least I would. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Let me know.

Overall, I really don't think Lando is at any kind of serious disadvantage that would make it fair to call him an underdog. He has issues thanks to McLaren's strategic blunders, sure, but the rest of his problems are pretty much skill issues. Call me back with the notion of an "underdog narrative" when Ollie Bearman is in the championship fight in a Haas next year.

[raapija]

I'm curious (read invested) do you have a time line in mind for the strollonso au? Like when they met, got engaged, got married

In my pookie au, which I set most of my edits into, it goes something like this.... THIS IS GONNA BE LONG OH LORD, I have a whole thing formulated in my brain and writing is down is gonna be a struggle

2014-2015 They met for the first time very briefly as Fernando was visiting the Ferrari Academy drivers at Prema. Note that Lance is a massive Fernando fan since he was a kid, so this was like meeting his hero. Nando immediately forgot about this meeting as it was just a promotional thing, very sad :(

2017 Lance debuts in F1 at Williams, he's about 19yo and still a massive Nando fan but they rarely interact with each other (see, 'shy canadian rookie'). Sure, they talk every now and then, but no sparks yet...

2018 This is where it starts to get interesting. Nando is struggling (and when I say struggling I mean STRUGGLING) at McLaren and his interest starts to waver which leads to his little fixation on Lance. It started out pretty tame and harmless with Nando writing little notes/letters to him and hiding them around the Williams garage (no one knows how he did it without getting caught) and Lance's belongings. He gets more invested in this than driving the McLaren GP2 engine shitbox.

Eventually Nando gathers up enough courage to ask the 20 year old man out. To his absolute horror and shock, the kid says "yeah, sure" and that's how they began dating. For the remainder of 2018, they keep it strictly to themselves, not telling anyone in case their relationship gets leaked. Lots of hotel room slumber parties, discreet dinner dates and traveling in the same planes between races.

Fun little side story I got is that in 2018, Lance, Fernando and Lando took part as team LANCELANDONANDO (hilarious, I know) in the 24h of Daytona ✨ They finished like... 50th, but it was a big deal since Lando was a tiny little baby boy and Nando was a bit of a mentor to him. (see, 'nando never got kids of his own but really wants to be a father figure)

2019-2020 Nando decides to "retire" from F1 after losing all his ambition to drive because of McLaren draining the life force out of him. Now that Nando isn't in F1, they can make their relationship public since the conflict of interest is no longer an issue.

2019 is a rather dark time for Lance, as the media rips him to shreds for 1) dating a man, 2) being almost 20 years younger AND 3) the person he's dating just happens to be Fernando Alonso. He's called every name under the sun, constantly ridiculed and the fans pretty much turn against him. He tries to avoid all the drama by becoming more closed in and even more shy around people.

Fernando, on the other hand, is off doing indy and endurance racing. He's pretty outspoken about their relationship and does his best to gain respect for Lance, always praising him and telling nice things about him. This starts to work after a while as the media starts to forget about the whole thing.

Nando would visit the F1 grid from time to time and Lance would be at his indy races. Eventually it became normal to see them together and act like a couple and the fans started to support them, so the media did a complete 180°. Now it was a race to get the best Strollonso story in the papers...

During this time also, Lance starts to visit Fernando's karting school a lot more and after a while becomes a key part in its operation. He would volunteer as a race director for the kids' tournaments, pop in as a guest coach or just help around with whatever they were doing. He would become a bit of a celebrity in that community of young drivers and really like spending time there.

2021 Surprise! Fernando gets bored of the other stuff and unretires himself to come back into F1 with Alpine! Before this Lance, Nando, Alpine and Aston Martin have a proper sit-down with FIA to figure out how they can allow Nando back in without the risk of sharing team secrets. A couple rule changes, some NDA's and contracts later, it's settled and F1 gets its most popular Spaniard (sorry Carlos) back on track. Everyone celebrates!

Turns out Nando is on a revenge mission this time. All that pent up McLaren resentment is poured right into Alpine and he becomes the villain of F1, which the fans kinda like. Outside the track, he and Lance live their best comfy life, getting a couple houses together, traveling and expanding their family with a doggy, Nyla! 🥰

2022 Alpine is in shambles. Estie Bestie is threatening to strangle his best friend's boyfriend on a daily basis. Lance suggests, just as a joke, that Fernando should come to Aston as he knew Sebastian was about to retire and they hadn't found a replacement for next season. Fernando doesn't take it as a joke. So, Nando calls up Lance's dad and he agrees immediately to take the Spaniard in.

Fast forward to the end of the season, Alpine gets a couple more big L's, and finally Nando can leave that sinking ship to walk right into Aston Martin's motorhome as soon as he drops out the last race. Fans rejoice, as Strollonso is now in the same team, media is fired up from the potential content and FIA can have a breather now that company secrets are no longer at risk.

2023 Working in the same team turns out to be the best choice they ever made. The team spirit is at an all time high, everyone is enjoying working together and the fans absolutely love them. Nando's tiktok influencer career also helps tremendously and people follow their social medias like it's Friends in 1996.

Nando decides before the summer break that it's now or never and proposes to Lance. To his absolute horror and shock, the 25 year old says "yeah, sure" and they get engaged. Everyone expects a big and glamorous wedding, but turns out they have a small civil ceremony during the break with just family and close friends, away from the limelight. It's a cute and intimate wedding party in Tuscany that only gets out as Lance posts a few pictures from it. Fans rejoice once again! Future's looking all bright and rosy for them <3 And speaking of rosy... They got another fur child! Rósa was Lance's 25th birthday present 🥰

2024.... We'll see ✨

[batsplat]

if you were to direct a motogp movie (or make a one season of television) what season or rivalry would you make it about? and more interesting what artistic liberties would you take? it doesn’t have to be a straight up biopic bc imo those are often boring, instead it could be something like velvet goldmine (1998) aka fictional characters whose real life counterparts are pretty obvious, veering in like rpf territory. anyways👀

did you know. one time this guy put a curse on this other guy. and he never won a race again

anyway, look, I do feel like by this point that's the BORING answer from me, but obviously it's where my mind first went. I'm not sure I'd actually want it out there in film form because by now it's badly enough remembered that it's like, my cute little niche story, and I think there's something fun about the Wider World even within the motogp fandom not exactly getting how bonkers the whole thing was. (I know other humans have canonically watched motogp 2004 but I swear even journalists have forgotten some key key details and it's kinda annoying but also fun.) bold words from someone who's been blogging about it!! weird gatekeep-y instinct. but basically my job here is done as far as outreach is concerned - I wrote a very long post, now I get asks about it twice a week that allow me to think about it some more with the four other people who care, perfect balance. that rivalry doesn't need to go mainstream!! the whole point of it is that it's kinda cruel but narratively pleasing that it's gone under the radar, because it's another sign valentino won. but obviously, I cannot literally make a film about this, so the hypothetical repercussions I think maybe we can put aside for a moment here

okay I came back to this bit of the post after I increasingly got into of the spirit of coming up with dumb ideas, but it did make me flesh out what I'd even WANT from something like that. I'm with you anon, a lot of biopics are boring!! if you want to just know what happened, please just literally go and 'watch the races' and 'read books' like what are we actually getting here. you kinda want to give it a purpose for existing, right, a way of portraying real/mildly fictionalised events in a manner that is also taking some kind of stance on the material AND is doing stuff you can't do 'in real life'. thing is, look, you could make 2006 into a film, and I'm sure it'd be perfectly nice because it's fundamentally a solid underdog story (well, inherently winning a title with repsol honda is NOT being an underdog but you can write it that way), but also what are you doing beyond just telling people what happened? I feel like that generally about single seasons, they're not really doing anything for me. I was also turning around the biaggi/valentino rivalry in my head in part because that's the one valentino gave as his answer for 'rivalry he would turn into a film' (marc big wet eyes sitting right next to him), but like. a film about that rivalry from valentino's pov is fundamentally not something I'm interested in. you have all these isolated very memorable moments that make it work as a rivalry, like you can absolutely spin them into a dramatic yarn that goes through the genesis of their conflict to middle finger gate to punching gate to assen + donington + sachsenring + phillip island 2001 and it's basically *insert rousing music* successful coming of age. at most you can lean into the fact valentino became successful at being a dick. like idk it's fine but also what's the point? valentino is challenged in a sports context by biaggi, he's challenged because he realises his words have consequence and the press actually reports the words he says to journalists (the horror), but he is fundamentally not challenged on a personal level. that's the entire point, right? it's the ultimate comfort zone rivalry - biaggi is a dick who it is quite easy to hate and also reacts poorly to valentino's initial provocation. the animosity escalates and it is inherently fun to beat him. valentino is mean to him, but it's not like he even really crosses any lines to beat him. like you can make it into a film, and if you twisted the material a little bit you could make it satisfying, but I don't want to!

now the way the writing process of this post worked was that I was going to breeze through a bunch of non-sete/valentino rivalries and explain why I think some of them don't work for our purposes here, but then I ended up writing myself into changing my mind. so my take on the biaggi rivalry is that actually, you CAN make it work but it has to be from biaggi's perspective. basically, I think you've got to amadeus it (a web weave I have been thinking of making at some point btw). so,,, it's a meditation on talent and how unfair it all is, maybe minus the bit where salieri poisons amadeus (I know that doesn't happen in the film) or dresses up as amadeus' father to, y'know, make him write a requiem on his death bed. and it's not amadeus in that HERE, the clown prince gets a happy ending! but it's more like, in thematic terms, I think you have to zero in on this bit. biaggi didn't have parents who shoved him on a bike when he was three years old, he didn't have parents who were invested in his motorcycling career (or even necessarily particularly invested in him), he started the sport late and discovered that, yes, he did have a prodigious amount of skill in it - but one that he started honing far later than valentino did. he approached his career with a sort of grim resolve, surly and irascible and not interested in making friends with any of his competitors but very, very good. he goes away from the race track and dates all these models, he irritates fellow riders, he's not part of the gang and he's happy about it. he's very successful! four 250cc titles, wins his first ever race in 500cc at a time when doohan was very much winning everything. he's also just like,,,, an interesting and spiky enough character it's not hard to make him come alive

but then of course you have this gradual emergence of the amadeus character, the one who challenges his established position in the court of,, well... motorcycle racing, and also as the guy italians rooted for! and valentino's obviously, y'know, in so many ways the exact opposite from biaggi, and he's super young and cheerful and lively and is doing all his silly celebrations and is being a bit camp and goofy and treats motorcycle racing as a party (you really want to lean into the culture clash here, like in amadeus it's because you have stuffy austrian court vibes but here it's because everyone is having their bones broken every two minutes and just how... kinda grim a lot of motorcycle racing was). and he's also this innocent! yes, he insults biaggi, and yes, in retrospect we know valentino is kinda evil, but at the time he was a kid with a big mouth who was a little taken aback by how that biaggi feud sort of escalated beyond what he'd actually intended it to do! and biaggi just, hates him. and I think, sorry to the real man max biaggi here, but you've got to play with how once they're actually competing with each other, it's miserable how there's just this unbreachable gulf in talent. like, whatever biaggi does he cannot win! he isn't going to defeat valentino over the course of a full season! which is depressing and horrible and CRUEL, because there's this inevitability to the whole thing... and also! because valentino doesn't DESERVE it. and you don't have to go full salieri pleading with god to explain how god could give this CLOWN all this talent, but it's kinda the same vibe! how is it valentino, who is constantly just having a laff and canonically maybe wasn't the biggest gym-goer in the paddock and is just generally seen as, y'know, a bit of a dandy, this foppish clown who everyone loves and who doesn't have to work hard to be good - how is he the one who is winning so much!! it's miserable and unjust... and I think how you portray this is that you really emphasise the kinda, repetitive nature of the defeat. like, I think you probably want to make this into a non-linear narrative where all this biaggi backstory is communicated somehow but you don't just start it when he was born or whatever - you start it in 2001 when they're competing for a title and already hate each other. and then you heavy on the time loop vibes. the whole cinematic language and all that other shit should emphasise how all these weekends are structured in exactly the same way and if you're losing to this one guy, all these different weekends can start feeling the same. it bleeds into each other, it feels inescapable, you're trapped in this narrative you can't change... worst of all, you even return to the same places again and again - like play with that! biaggi keeps coming back to where they had the fist fight, to where valentino first insulted him all those years back. you play up the disorientation and the misery of it all, plus biaggi canonically gives us all this kinda messy freudian shit to play with like how he was dating 'valentina' and his relationship with her was falling apart because of how miserable valentino was making him. it's all there!!

ANYWAYS the way you conclude this story is!! welkom 2004!! so again we can artistic license this a little bit and, uh, ignore sete (though I do also think it's fun if you lean into biaggi being displaced as a rival and staring at them being friendly and happy with each other from the outside) - but the key bit is that valentino is finally making the big error. biaggi wasn't winning titles on a yamaha, since he left yamaha has gotten worse, now valentino is making this big mistake out of his own hubris. language of cinema that shit and make everything brighter and more hopeful.... the time loop is finally over, biaggi has escaped, this year will be different!!!! everyone in his circle agrees, valentino is fucked. step off the plane at welkom (pre season testing didn't happen in this universe) and it's literal dawn of a new day... staring out at the sun and finally, biaggi can move on, can live a new and different life. anyway. obviously we all know what's coming next - you have this big dramatic climactic race where biaggi throws himself at valentino again and again and again and he comes so close to winning it... but he doesn't. and you have valentino living his best life, being delighted, but the film is focusing on how like,,, we're bleaching the joy back out of biaggi's life, how actually he's returning to what he already knew. and it ends on the podium, with the camera focusing on biaggi on that fucking second step or zooming in or whatever (idk how cinema works) and it just finishes on this shot of biaggi dead-eyed in a bleak world, trapped again for eternity aka until the end of the 2005 season. done!! I'm not sure this is quite what valentino had in mind, but. well. that's how I'd do it

this is from the pushkin play from 1832 not the 1984 film but like. low key pushkin already kinda nailed the essence of sports rivalries in the 1830s and we just have to acknowledge that sometimes

right. so the casey rivalry is where I'm going to go completely off the wall. skip this bit to get to the slightly saner stuff. this is also one I fully admit to sometimes playing around with in my mind anyway, but. uh. I'm gonna be taking this one in just. well. places. I do have a vision here but I also don't quite know how to explain it in a way that doesn't make me sound like I've lost my mind, but well if you're still reading this then that's on you. so lemme get this out of the way: the classic sports biopic formula would work well with casey. if I had to point to a single rider I would sports biopic-ify, it's casey. so you have all this kinda,, obvious adversity that's easy to get across, and it's a narrative you can follow chronologically without too much trouble. you've got all the childhood stuff, the australian racing club not letting him join them, the move to britain, the rising through the ranks, it's also this very biopic-friendly 'nobody ever believed in him apart from like three people' stuff. and the premier class is also narratively satisfying, from the rocky rookie season to the kinda shock success to then all the lows of 2008 and 2009 and the physical ailments and the anxiety and then the switch to honda and the title and then him deciding to retire... that's all good stuff! you can absolutely biopic-ify it! gun to my head and sure, I can walk you through exactly what bits of his life I'd focus on and put in what order and so on, and I think ultimately you could make a very good sports biopic from that

[some mild gore to follow in this next section]

but also. thing is. that's fine. it's just not where I want to go here, because again I feel like at that point you can also pick up his autobiography and just read it - because what you're basically doing here is just filming that. and I get how this stuff works, you're bringing the story to a wider audience, you can show stuff in a different way in that medium etc etc, and that's all great but also I don't care about bringing stuff to a wider audience. I care about doing fun stuff in my brain. so what I'd actually do here is just, basically, go in the exact opposite direction and ditch all the realism. genuinely, ditch the live action stuff, we're going animated - what I'm interested in here is stuff where we need to be able to fully suspend our disbelief and lean into some surreal shit. I'm not going to bury the lede here: my idea is that you take that thing where casey said he hated how ducati was ruining the bike by letting valentino's yellow encroach on it and, basically,, just go all in on that bit. like come on, that is so singularly visually evocative, it truly captures a lot of what's going on thematically in that rivalry. (see also x and x for the most relevant casey posts.) casey sees valentino as the malevolent force, this infection! he associates him strongly with a specific colour, one that can be sickly or unnatural or just... evil. malignant, malicious, malevolent, all the m words. to casey, valentino is a personification of everything that is wrong with the sport. valentino is literally the walking manifestation for so many of his issues, from the dangerous riding to the lack of respect to the lying to the cult of personality to the obsession with image and the media to the backroom games to the politics to the injustice of how different riders are treated differently, like!! he's literally all of that! this is a topic for another post, but this plays out in a lot of kinda, weird and funky ways where it's a two way street and sometimes when casey talks about motogp you go 'actually I think that's just valentino?' (btw he also does this about 'europe' right I don't think those are europeans you hate casey that's literally just valentino) and sometimes when he talks about valentino it's kinda? this feels like it's about a little more than the bloke himself? and basically, right, I think you need to take this to its natural conclusion where casey used to admire him and look up to him and want to emulate him on track and then gets disillusioned when valentino's worshippers turn against casey and casey is the one to bring valentino down to earth and... listen, I think you need to play around with valentino being a literal god. and I think you need to have casey stab him to cover up the yellow on the ducati with blood

okay. look. the idea here, right, is that we're basically making the subtext text, and just digging into that process of 'bringing valentino back to earth', of taking on a god and having the audacity to succeed, and also treating valentino as this sort of. infection in his own mind. the bike is literally being infected!! casey may have left the ducati but he STILL has some fidelity and love for this project, those were his people he worked with, and now valentino is coming in and just twisting everything around himself!! but also I think how this functions is that, okay, so you have all this normal stuff that's the actual 'plot' in the 'real world', but the ISSUE with the real world is that there's a lot of stuff that just. isn't possible there. like the thing casey wants in that rivalry but is never going to have is... a captive audience. a big problem casey has in that rivalry is that he doesn't get the chance to actually say a lot of stuff to valentino. he starts using the media more and more and plays the game on valentino's level, but there's still this disconnect where mr straight talking is the valentino rival who valentino never really blanks or freezes out like... there's a disconnect! there's valentino the person, who casey never quite figures out how to just straight up hate, and then there's valentino the character, the racer, the rider, the god who casey DESPISES. but when they're doing small talk at pressers and podiums, casey doesn't get to talk to that version of valentino! he just talks to valentino the person, who obviously isn't literally a different person but is also not going to explain to casey where he's coming from, is he, and also isn't someone who casey can explain to where HE is coming from. and that gulf... it does bother casey. I don't think he can quite verbalise why either, but there's just... this creeping tension. I think it'd be easier for casey if valentino really were more of a caricature, just kinda a dick in all walks of life. and there's just these canonical hints of that... the way casey talks about how he's sure valentino as a guy is fine, but he never knew valentino like that, the whole 'I'd like to go with valentino for dinner to tell him where I was coming from in that rivalry' thing, like!! it's there

so basically EYE think what you should be doing is using the wonders of storytelling to actually. embrace that element. and just leave realism behind now and again. valentino is a god, he is literally worshipped, he's part of this pantheon that casey is trekking to reach. casey is brave enough to take him on in combat, he is the first one who is truly able to draw blood. he sees how valentino isn't just a god of joy or battles or speed or the SUN or any of that other stuff - he's a disease, an illness, a god who is also a false prophet... the worship never quite goes away, because who ever truly gets rid of their valentino rossi complex, but casey eventually is given the chance to face a chained valentino and kinda,,, ritualistically publicly humiliate him using the ducati as both this sick thing that has to be 'cured' and this symbol of valentino's failure. I'm sorry, visual language goes brr here, like chain him up, do weirdly eroticised torture idc!! (psst psst valentino's fucked up shoulder also extremely goes brr here, casey low key a teensy bit weird about valentino's injuries? his thing after the 2010 leg break where he goes 'why's everyone making such a big deal about this other people break their limbs too' and then after 2011 jerez immediately asking whether valentino's shoulder is okay in just a very obviously passive aggressive way. literally he opens with that, valentino isn't using it as an excuse or anything, for some reason it's already on casey's mind and I would politely contest it was out of genuine concern for valentino's wellbeing!! it's just kinda? I'm so compelled by it? I suppose it is kinda about how valentino's suffering gets taken more seriously than his own? how those absences are received differently by the motogp world? idk I find this fun because casey does know this is one thing valentino can't really be blamed for himself, so it just slips out a bit? but yeah, casey + valentino's injuries, nobody's talking about it but I sure will, let casey get weird and mean and a teensy bit sadistic about valentino's injuries in an artistic manner.) crucially I like animation as a medium here because I think it's easier to lean into surrealism when you don't have to hand hold the audience so much through the suspension of realism, also there's just some imagery you can do in cooler ways through animation where in live action it may just look. weird. (I think you can also do one of those things where you have a live action film with only those specific bits animated but also... why? it just feels like in live action you need more 'justifications' for things, like am I saying casey is having some weird hallucinations and is losing his mind? no I just want to have weird vision sequences ffs.) the colour stuff!! valentino/casey is big on the colour coding as a rivalry, to the extent casey is even, y'know, drawing attention to it in the literal text!! yellow and red are banger colours, valentino is big on imagery himself with all his sun + moon motifs, it's kind of all there to make the easy next step to kinda zany surreal imagery. ritualistic stabbing works better in animation, you can kinda get the blood to like. drip down and overwhelm the yellow illness that's slithered out across the bike

and. AND of course what this entire set up allows you to do is.... give them an opportunity to talk. they can't talk in real life! casey CAN'T give him his real thoughts on anything, and fundamentally valentino can't either. they're opponents. they're strangers who chat sometimes. it's not just that they aren't friends, it's that fundamentally they cannot be friends - because their ability to do their actual jobs depends on a certain level of professional distance. valentino of course does have a decent read on casey, and vice versa, because when you're figuring out how to defeat someone then (if you're valentino) you're looking to play the rider too. valentino's entire approach depends on focusing in on his rivals and attempting to throw them off, to make them unravel. he's watching casey closely!! the entire journey of casey's first three seasons in the premier class essentially becomes like, this god of their world focusing in on him. figuring him out. trying to gnaw away at him. obviously, animation also allows you to go big on the panopticon-y imagery which is kinda fundamental to their rivalry, because of their fundamentally oppositional stances to 'performing' for the ever present cameras where there IS a little bit of common ground in they have both struggled with it. but valentino isn't going to ever say that to casey! casey isn't going to open up to valentino! so if you give them,, you know, a different arena to express themselves, where casey actually has this external figure to talk to (as he's like, cutting him open I guess) whereas valentino actually is put in a position where he's allowed to respond, where he can taunt casey a little bit, where he can interrogate casey's approach and also the similarities between the two of them and how casey has been forced to become a little more like valentino to challenge him... because the thing is, right, valentino is so big on message discipline with his rivals and has completely stopped talking about that rivalry post mid 2013 that, first of all, you have this complete imbalance in who's been telling this story for the past decade, but second of all you kinda don't have a sense of what valentino would respond? idk!! I think this is mainly fun as a thought exercise for me specifically but also I do think it's kinda, digging into some of the bits that make this narratively work as a rivalry, how valentino in this rivalry is actually just kinda... removed. like he's not really emotional about it!! at most he's a bit bitchy, but even that just feels about The Game. it's the most extreme in this regard followed by jorge - but with valentino's other feuds you kinda... see a bit more an unguarded moment, see something a little more real there. the casey rivalry feels so uncomfortable precisely because valentino is a little... inhuman in this one. I mean, if you want to have valentino as some kind of cross between a deity and a monster in any of his feuds, this is the one. casey's just an obstacle to him. idk don't you think casey kinda wants to chain valentino down and stab him and make him see casey a little more... well, I think he should want it and I think it'd be fun to see and get them to talk to each other. ugh and also all the implications of making the faith vs non-believer elements more literal... casey the heretic!!!

there's some obvious stuff here you'd have to figure out, like 'how do you make this work as a narrative even to people who aren't familiar with casey stoner at all' and 'who the fuck do you think the target audience is here' and 'you do know this is not the kind of thing that would ever be made, right, go back to the casey stoner sports biopic like a sane person' but!! I do think it's material you can make work if you're just,,, efficient and smart in how you're actually telling the 'real life' version of the rivalry. also in my head this is. idk. an animated limited series not a film, which then brings in other stuff like 'episodic structure' because I'm fundamentally opposed to tv shows that think they're films. and look, I'm not going to write an entire film script treatment here, I just think a good writer can figure this stuff out. blood on the ducati is the framing device for everything else, simple. lots of animated floating eyes I reckon, first casey is watching valentino and then valentino is watching casey and the whole world is watching them... and it does bleed into real life just a little, where you're wondering whether casey is actually imagining/dreaming this stuff or valentino is or if they both know it somehow... you can get away with more ambiguity in animation. anyway, if you do want more thoughts on this one specifically for whatever reason, let me know because this one I do actually have more on

also laguna 2008 is a bit tortoise and the hare coded if you really think about it

[end of gore]

so. on to jorge. hm. the thing about jorge is that he was kinda writing a coming of age film in his own head, so like - yes, that's what you do go for? you can play it straight and follow how jorge has cast his rivals, or you can pin the whole narrative on the fact that jorge has cast them - the kinda artificiality of the narrative, the way jorge is this storyteller who isn't being recognised as much as he thinks he should be, isnt adequately appreciated. the way there's this three way discourse between what jorge thinks the story is and what the public thinks the story is and actual. you know. reality. I think this is a bit more light-hearted, like you know how the best stories about teenagers take their emotions seriously but also let them be kinda silly? because young people are silly! jorge was silly! he's got a lot of CHARM because he's so cocky and naive and full on and intense and awkward and kinda off-putting and tactless and a bit all over the place and so painfully, painfully young, like he's a good protagonist because that's a KID. but also, obviously there's also a lot of extremely not light-hearted bits of his story - everything about his father, his manager... idk this one's another one where, I don't just want to make it a generic sports biopic, and I'm trying to figure out the clear narrative arc here? I mean, you can point to the end of 2010 and really lean into him choosing victory on-track over popularity off it. the problem with 2010 is that it does not work as a dramatic season, yeah sure with the magic of biopics you can hack at it to shit but also. idk. what are we getting out of it. I think for narrative purposes you want to maybe narrow in, and end it at the end of 2008, with the switching of the numbers this kind of moment of emancipation? but also! this feels like we're straying a bit too far away from the fun sports elements and I don't want to REALLY suggest all the ways in which you could mine jorge's personal trauma in a jokey tumblr post, so I'm gonna move on from this one

the problem is 2015 just straight up doesn't work as a jorge-centric narrative, except in a very kinda comic way that leans into how absurd his role in that season was. 2012 as a season is a bit... y'know, it's fine. okay it's mostly terrible, but that's fine too. but it doesn't have a great narrative hook. which kinda leads you to the problem that I do think the valentino rivalry is more... juicy from jorge's pov, because for valentino, jorge is just kinda? an obstacle? idk he's more normal about it, it's just his job to destroy the guy, you know how it is. but also 2009 does work better narratively from valentino's pov, like it's the build up to catalunya specifically you can dramaticise... idk though, I do love catalunya but my heart isn't really in this exercise because I think valentino isn't really being... challenged here? it's a title fight where he's fundamentally using a set of tools he's already perfected, to beat a guy he doesn't really give a shit about. when the italian press is down on him pre catalunya, it doesn't spark any genuine self-doubt - it's just a handy source of extra motivation. there's no epic highs or lows that season, not real ones. and yes I know I was talking about making valentino who gets stabbed repeatedly to cover up an infection a moment ago, but that reflected real EMOTIONAL truths!! I'm committed to thematic fidelity more than I am to literal fidelity

genuinely I think the best way to tackle jorge is with the jorge/dani parallel journeys... what, film? tv show? maybe show actually - you don't have one coherent narrative Statement per se but you're constantly charting those journeys in reference to each other, really rooting it in their respective points of views, no neutral detached cinematic language like I want everything to be very much written to be from their eyes!! going from one to the other and back again. and you're charting these different journeys, right, and how they both captured different flavours of like... emotional successes and failures. I think it's actually about failure, yeah, about having to accept there's something you can't have and might never be able to get - whether that's universal love or a premier class title or whatever - but Actually, that might not be the end of the world. and during this process, they go from being enemies to tentative friends!! guys who realise they can maybe actually understand each other better than they thought!! this real moment of interpersonal connection. you have all these media narratives and the managers and so on and the fact they're competitors as these built in reasons why they've just been pitted against each other from the start... but y'know, again, it is also just a bit about maturing, about being able to set that aside, about making your peace with defeat and failure as an element of growing up. you can't win everything, maybe there's something you really really really want and you're just not going to get it, but at the end of the day it's kinda... yeah. self-acceptance. idk this is the nice one

so with marc you can go several different ways here I guess, and again he's also perfectly decent sports biopic material, probably second to casey in that category like yeah sure do the comeback story. but also, we do already have a very good self-produced documentary about what he thinks the narratives of his career are? idk this is also just a personal taste thing, I'll leave him to doing all the injury stuff himself, I don't have much to add there. we'll get to the obvious one in a second, but I was trying to figure out if there were other places I massively felt like you need the cinematic touch. and, again, the 2013 season is obviously very exciting!! but also, you have it covered in.,,,, multiple documentaries, I don't feel I have a take their either? his rivalries with dani and jorge aren't really substantive enough to sustain a bit of cinema. dovi... I mean, what are you saying there? what's the arc? I feel like if I tackled dovi, I'd go somewhere else and really go all in with the ducati stuff, and make it a bit more... you know, stark, stripped back, basically just the emotional component of how much he gave to that project and how he managed to beat away one rival after the next and how it all ended up falling apart in a kind of anti-climactic way? he's also good sports biopic material, but in a way I think the marc rivalry is the bit of his story I have the least to say on. so eg, 2017 is a dramatic season, but he's also kinda fine after it? he always knew it was a long shot, he tried his best and he got really close and then he lost. you can't amadeus it because dovi isn't (fictional) salieri. basically, I think what I'm saying here is that dovi is too well-adjusted to feature in this post. though I'd totally watch a film about his 250cc seasons, like it's a bit annoying because HE is the underdog who loses both title fights to jorge, but it'd still be kinda fun idk. I wouldn't really know what to do with the material but if someone made the film I'd absolutely watch it

right then. the thing about sepang 2015 is... yeah, sure, of course you can do it, it already exists as a narrative but... yeah, what are you adding!! idk I always think when you're adapting something, you kinda need to have a reason for it? I mean, what are you doing that's not already there in the footage? idk maybe this is just a sign of having been a fan of this sport for one too many years but to me the idea of sepang 2015 can get a bit boring (or maybe just repetitive) where I need a new TAKE on it to really get into the idea of fictionalising it. like where's the auteur's touch y'know, what can I still add to this!! but it also needs to WORK for someone who is new to the story, which kinda just makes you want to tell the story straight.... y'know the story is strong enough and COMPLICATED enough to stand on its own and it IS good but I don't really have anything interesting to say beyond 'yeah sure that'e be neat'. I can't tell you why, but I also don't think the casey approach quite works here? the idea of providing a framing device with which valentino and marc can actually talk to each other... eh. don't like that. hm. okay wait actually I just turned it around in my head for... a while and I think I've got an idea to make the worst motorcycle racing film of all time. so, my central stupid film-making gimmick here is just. centring the fact we're completely reliant on a few guys and what they're telling us in making up our minds, and our removal from that story and the imperfection of their perceptions and so on. so I think you kinda make a point of... not actually showing the motorcycle racing? like, you always show it by showing other people watching it, you're showing the tv screen rather than the actual racing. even in the cinematic medium, you're centring the theatrical aspects, where you drill it down to just a few characters. valentino. marc. uccio. marc's fuck ass manager. maybe a crew chief or two. keep it limited though, all the others are kept at a distance - you're constantly focusing in on the same few characters. and very early on you basically just like... get them to fourth wall break by telling you, the viewer, with their actual words how racing works for them, what meaning they take out of it - and again it's this remove because we're never allowed to actually feel the racing for ourselves (no helmet cams), and it sets up that as the tragedy unfolds, again and again we're just hearing from them what happened. it's all zoomed in on how claustrophobic the entire situation is, like doing the race direction room after the sepang 2015 is perfect for that kind of thing, and crucially they're only ever addressing the audience because they can't address each other. but fourth wall breaks also obviously draw attention to artificiality! I realise they are very much like, lame gimmick central, but also are these men not inherently about lame gimmicks... idk it's basically the same story but at least it feels like a kinda interesting way of telling it. kinda trite, but cinema allows you to get to the point and let valentino actually play with the camera... so literally take it into his own hands and lead it around and tell the story from his point of view. and you can play with how they do both change in what stories they think they're telling, how they're constantly revising their own stories, how their stories completely clash with each other... like. make them literal narrators. that's my pitch

so. one interesting pattern that has come up with my approaches to these rivalries is that with the exception maybe of the 2015 stuff, I feel like I'm more naturally inclined to treat valentino as a narrative device and centre his rivals. a big part of this is that valentino is a fantastic narrative device. he's kinda. this looming presence in every narrative in this sport where you can just sort of use him as a sort of way to poke away at all these other riders. the monster everyone loves who you are trapped with. BOO!! he's gonna eat you! which is fun! but ALSO, crucially, several of these rivalries aren't that emotionally challenging for him!! again, with casey right, he wants to beat him, but he's not having a crisis of faith over losing to casey. he thinks casey is annoying, he wants to beat him because he wants to win. valentino is casey's foil, but casey is not valentino's. valentino makes for an excellent personal antagonist to casey, but the reverse just isn't true. casey isn't forcing valentino to reexamine his approach except 'ramping up the levels of being a dick on-track' - like, yes, that's a serious competitive challenge, but also valentino is very comfortable in his own skin in that rivalry. sure, you could have valentino have some kind of massive revelation about the casey rivalry, but like. he doesn't in canon. he changes his behaviour towards casey in pretty predictable ways depending on what the relationship demands from his perspective at any given time. there's nothing more there

now, obviously you know where I'm going here. there IS a rivalry where you can make the argument he changes as a result of it, there IS a rivalry that tips him over the line and makes him to do stuff he hadn't done before that, there IS a rivalry that happens to coincide with a period of his competitive life that challenges him both personally and professionally. now, look, I have already talked about the sete rivalry. you know what I think about this rivalry - and if you don't, I really already have told the story here and here and here and here and also here. I think this works perfectly well as a narrative in its own right, and it's one you can tell from either perspective... but you kinda need both. I think again you probably naturally lean towards starting it from sete's perspective and that first proper meeting (I mean, idk if it is their first actual meeting, but it's the logical obvious place you start this story) with sete giving valentino advice during his first 500cc test and valentino just, y'know, ignoring him and being a cocky shit and then crashing. so you get to see sete being kinda exasperated by the whole thing. also, obviously ibiza is like, a key framing device here, like it's the most obvious in-your-face way of tracking their relationship with each other. I don't actually know how often they partied there together, but it must have been at least twice and if the commentators are to be believed it must have included 2003. artistic license and you can add one or two more times, but mainly you want to focus in on 2003 onwards right. so you've got this 2002 one where it's, y'know, high point of their friendship and in the name of narrative efficiency, you establish here that sete is looking to make the honda switch. the emphasis is on how valentino has been winning everything but on the flip side you're getting the first insight into his discontent. and there's a bit of a vibe of, what could you possibly have to complain about? like you are winning so much? so it's late one night where they've had this slightly unguarded alcohol-fuelled moment of genuine vulnerability but in the end it's actually characterised by how... unsubstantial the link between them is, because they wouldn't talk about this kind of thing with each other and they might both be similar in some ways but also don't gettttttt each other. it means you can return there as a location in 2003, where you've just had sachsenring and valentino's dramatic loss but they're still partying together and it's like. obviously In The Air that not everything is quite right... their relationship is already gradually altered and twisted because you're introducing this element of actual stakes and competition (obviously in 2004 they do NOT spend that time together, as far as we know anyway, and you can show them being very much not together at ibiza as a very obvious Oooh Things Will Fall Apart and maybe already haveeee)

and I do think basically I've already said what I think the themes here are,,,, several times by this point, so I'm not going to belabour the point. I think all of this fundamentally works as a narrative with like, minimal massaging and rearranging of the elements for dramatic effect. it's all there already, everything from sete's arc with the [insert non-tasteless way of covering a real life tragedy that fundamentally alters the course of sete's career] and how that leads to sete becoming the challenger and how he does want to win and his eventual downfall. with valentino, you have the element of liberation and self-discovery and... well, growing into your own but also kinda having the narrative drawing attention to how 'growing into your own' can involve becoming a fully realised character who is essentially quite cruel? you have this kind of... build up, right, towards this moment of revelation, where you lay bare who these two people actually ARE at sepang 2004, and then again at jerez 2005. valentino has gone his own way, he has freed himself from the chains of honda, he has embraced individualism and the chance to define himself and his own legacy and stand on his own two feet and not rely on the strongest bike or all this stuff within honda where they chose him as their flag bearer, for better or for worse... like he comes to his own here! he takes the step from 'great rider' to 'legend' because he gets to this dramatic moment of stepping into the unknown, he takes this massive risk that could have cost him so much, and it ends up elevating him. but it also puts him under duress, and in that moment he reveals himself - whatever sete did or did not do at qatar 2004, EVEN IF sete did all that shit, what you are left with is valentino vowing to ruin this man. valentino uses sete to make himself 'better', to fuel himself as a competitor. valentino turns sete into a tool in his own story. and again, thematically you've got all this stuff about how sete was managing the image of the rivalry and how valentino took advantage of that - how sete needed it to remain respectful and valentino was completely willing to abandon that. like, you have two protagonists who really are similar in quite a few ways, who think they have this shared understanding with each other, but when it comes down to it? they end up being super painfully different

now I can go on about this and how to play it straight, basically, you can just do that rivalry and I think it'd be cool and fun and very easy to arrange in a good narrative way. BUT I've kind of already. done that. like I don't want to suggest a film that is basically a nicer version of my tumblr posts. so I want to take this in a slightly different direction, and I think what we need to consider with this rivalry is this: what if you made the curse literal? basically, what's always kinda charmed me about this rivalry is that the curse should not work and all the misfortune that befalls sete after that is so comical that it's kinda... what do you do with that? and the answer is you just lean all the way in. my pitch is this: what if valentino sells his soul to the devil?

so, you know faust, right, and you know the bit at the start of goethe's faust where god and mephistopheles are basically making a wager over how corruptible this one human is. and faust is like... he's kinda disillusioned, he feels that everything he's dedicated his life to in academia is fundamentally hollow, gets very close to committing suicide. and faust has gone a bit new age-y, gotten into all this mystical shit and he's got this pentagram that ends up preventing mephistopheles from leaving his presence in their first meeting... and basically what the devil can give him is like, the chance to attain some true pleasure, and for that faust is willing to bet everything - so if faust can just have that, then maybe eternal damnation is worth it. and look, I'm not going to summarise the entire plot of faust here and it does go off the wall a bit with all the gretchen stuff, but the point is you have this version of the devil who is fundamentally a cynic and is attempting to win an argument with god by making this human succumb to his own nihilism. and what faust basically does is like, abandon his normal life where he's trying to live by normal virtues and goes off on this journey with the devil. and there's this little moment where mephistopheles,,, pretends to be faust and takes on the role of an academic adviser (you know how it is) and seduces this random student away from the word of god and sends him down a wretched path, which ends with this bit:

like, a big part of faust's tragedy is supposed to be about... well, hubris, of the relationship of god to man, of no longer being afraid of the devil... and obviously, this is all framed very much in terms of religion, but at the end of the day it's also about, you know, having purpose - faust is living a life that no longer has any meaning to him, all of his knowledge and studies now no longer fill the void inside himself. his nihilism opens the door for mephistopheles, and is what makes him willing to accept the devil's terms. now, and I am so very sorry to goethe here, I think we have some material we can use here to explore the valentino/sete rivalry. obviously, you can't do a one-to-one, you need to get rid of some of like, the depression and all that - there were times when valentino was feeling 'a bit low' in 2003, but not 'faust thinking everything he'd done in his entire life was pointless' low, yeah? also, unless you want to do a real long view here and even then it can't really be justified, there obviously isn't really a 'tragedy' here from valentino's perspective. like, he wins! this isn't valentino's tragedy, it's sete's! I was being a bit facetious when I said he was 'selling his soul to the devil', and you can kinda parse mephistopheles' motivations in different ways depending on what flavour and what interpretation of him you're dealing with here. you don't 'damn' valentino, you essentially just turn him into a tool of the devil!

so, this is how this works out in my head: the devil works more broadly as the manifestation of competitive impulses, the kind of 'how far would you go to win' question as a bloke who shows up and literally talks to the characters about it (magic of cinema). he's also engaging with valentino feeling like his victories no longer having meaning, with being disconnected from honda and from the entire culture there and just feeling like he's going through the motions. there's this element of like... opening the door to what is essentially a journey of self-actualisation, bringing him closer to being a 'god' but also allowing him to fully come into his own and become himself. to win on his own terms. I reckon ibiza is my preferred narrative device where the devil talks both to sete and valentino there (separately), first literally as a mysterious stranger and then... maybe not? he's talking to them at times of their lives when they're not at ibiza and it's not happening there in the physical world and they both end up kinda having to confront they're dealing with some potentially malevolent supernatural entity. but the important elements of the devil is that a) he's not going to do anything the humans don't actually ask for themselves, and b) everyone knows he's following his own agenda and you should be careful of the requests you make of him. so it's kinda like... essentially, the backdrop of this rivalry unfolding is they're constantly being challenged to decide what lines they're willing to cross. which culminates at qatar... and maybe you do have sete making like. a teensy mistake. a teensy error in judgement, one that is both real and deliberate but he could not have known would get that reaction and instantly regrets. and valentino, who is I think inherently sceptical of the devil coming to offer to help him and maybe does crank out the pentagrams (remember, the whole point of faust is that he was too arrogant to be scared of the devil, or one of the points anyway), in a moment of fury does decide - no, actually. I will take that step. I will curse sete. now the thing is, dramatically this is a teensy bit tricky because when you're talking about being damned by the devil, usually the consequences are a bit more severe than 'not winning a motorcycle race again' (yes, you can get into how sete did also seem genuinely cursed after that, cf his ambulance/bus crash situation, but again we are flirting with being in poor taste in this tumblr post). but the thing is, right, you have to lean into the silliness here! qatar 2004 is inherently silly, a CURSE is inherently silly, like real life is already silly here! you have to engage with the people where they are, and for these athletes all this shit is so heightened that the emotions are full on. like, valentino would've sold that guy to the devil! and to him not winning another race is basically the worst thing that can happen

so, obviously, you get to do the actual curse stuff. curses are inherently campy fun, the devil doing curses is campy fun, getting valentino rossi to crank out the pentagrams is inherently campy fun. you get to play around with this, right, like you know that bit in the brno 2005 race commentary where the commentators are talking about how valentino might as well have a little radio to talk into sete's helmet to remind him of how sete had fucked up at the sachsenring. OBVIOUSLY obviously obviously it is just so... idk scrunchy and fun to have this idea of valentino becoming a malevolent enough force to literally do that.... like damn the commentators did kinda eat with that?? ughhhhhh do you ever think about sete leading the qatar 2005 race for most of the way???? like that's SO fucked up because you literally have articles from about the race going 'hey maybe sete can break his curse' and then the commentators are talking about curses having one year expiration dates but obviously they!! do not!!!!! there's one race where sete goes off track and the commentators are talking about how valentino will surely have smiled into his helmet like that's so fucked!! it's so fucked!! but idk I think basically you have all this creeping curse-y stuff and devil stuff and then you get this twist and then it just becomes misery zone for sete until you sort of. compress the timeline and have him retire without getting into what happened at the end of 2006. and valentino just relishing in all his very worst emotions. and you've got sete who was the better man after jerez 2005, who took the high ground again and again and again and it did NOTHING for him.... and then he's cursed and his career is finished and the devil has had his fun getting mixed in with mid noughties motogp. and now obviously this is inherently kinda dumb and corny and silly but it's the devil!! mephistopheles to me is allowed to get up to dumb shit sometimes, let him have some fun!! idk I like curses being literal idc

I think the obvious critique here is 'this doesn't really feel like it gets the message of faust'. which, yes, is true - and obviously the way narratives are structured, a satisfying resolution isn't 'well selling your soul kinda slaps, actually'. and my statement to respond to this argument is as follows:

this is essentially canonically what happened. valentino DID do something kinda evil and it DID work out 100% for him and it DID kinda slap. at least when you add in the devil, you're making explicit the bit where it is a little bit bad. also, is sports not inherently about selling your soul for success... the story of valentino and sete is essentially about how we are twisted by competition, how pretending that we don't wish ill to our opponents is inherently dishonest. it is about lifting a facade for something that is already inherently there in the souls of men. this is obviously inherently a deeply cynical stance, but this is also a deeply cynical story beyond all the fun battles and camp dramatics. the devil is a cynic and he is basically the point of view character of goethe's faust - he's the one who is positioned closest to the audience. sports is all about living out some of humanity's worst instincts in a relatively low stakes setting, which means we get a free pass to have fun with a deeply cynical story that goes 'maybe selling your soul to the devil is fine, actually'

do I stand by this stance? not really, but the whole fun of storytelling is that sometimes you can just be kinda mean. I think goethe would get it... you can tell which character he enjoyed writing the most

the OTHER way you can do this is centre everything around qatar 2004 as like,,, the mystery box element...... okay look I have now made two posts that go WAY too deep on the 'what really happened' element but I do loveeeeee the whole thing like I would just make a film about that very end of the season and we show it from all these different angles as different characters narrate what happened... like fuck all the riders I want to hear from whichever mechanic used the scooter... the gresini mechanic who gave evidence to race direction.... various honda higher ups the crew chiefs like this is jb vs juan martinez it's war!!! obviously you still have the same emotional/thematic hooks as the general rivalry does but idk I would have a LOT of fun figuring out how to structure that, I loveeee mysteries... maybe I'd write it as a mockumentary yeah..... this one's just fun

anyway. a lot of stuff going on in this post, huh! you can probably tell I didn't edit this much. my classic tell when I edit my tumblr posts is I remember how 'paragraphs' work. unfortunately all I have energy for are like. a bunch of rants about things in my brain. I think when tumblr tells you that you've reached the maximum number of characters per paragraph and you need to figure out where to put a break, it's probably a bad thing? on the whole, my stance is I don't have anything AGAINST mildly fictionalised versions, but for me I'm always more of a.... well I want to take advantage of the full specificity of the events as they happened or just come up with a completely original story. kind of person. I know this ask probably wasn't looking for my 'what if you bled out valentino as he's strung up above a red motorcycle' vision but yeah. with a lot of biopics I'm always a bit 'well you could just read about this couldn't you' like I need stuff to take some kind of a stance on the material it's using... all my stuff takes a stance. that's all I've got. obviously all these stances mean that basically none of these things could ever be made. and I know what I said above but if they called me up to write the casey stoner biopic script treatment, I would also do that. if you've actually read to this point, give me a shout - you're a real one and I love you

[slamminslamminmcgill]

How would Saul and Lalo react if reader had no experience with head😳 I imagine they’d coach them through it but ahhhhhh my brain can’t even handle the thought of all the praise

CUUUUUUUTE 🥺🥺🥺

Saul

"Ow! Watch the teeth, kid!"

You pulled your mouth off immediately once you heard Saul hiss in pain. "Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you okay?"

Saul smoothed your hair as he collected himself. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good, no worries. Just, uh... just open your mouth a bit more, I guess? And maybe, like, keep your tongue over your bottom teeth. Covers the chompers, ya get me?"

You took a quick catch breath and accepted the criticism in stride. "Okay, I can do that. So, uh... was I doing okay otherwise?"

"Oh yeah! I mean, for your first time, not bad! I'm impressed, actually. Suckin' dick is harder than it looks..." He smiled, then backtracked immediately once he realized how gay that sounded, as if having another man sucking his dick somehow wasn't gay, "...so I'm told."

You snickered and went back to work, starting by pressing a few wet kisses to his balls. When you did that, you could feel him tense up and whimper, louder than he had been the whole time. Oh? That seemed to be a weakness of his. You'd have to come back to that. You licked up the length of his cock and gave it a few pumps with your hand before you took him back in, taking his advice to heart. It seemed to be working, if his noises of pleasure were any indication.

"Oh, that's it..." He sighed, gently patting your hair. "That's my boy... That's MUCH better..."

You pulled your lips off him and spit on his tip. From there, you spread your saliva down his shaft and lowered yourself back down to his balls. You wanted to test your theory and see if that really was his weakness. Sure enough, he started whining and singing your praise once you ran your tongue across them.

"Oh! Oh my god, yes! Yes!" He panted, "God, fuck, kid, you're..." You took one into your mouth and gently sucked on it. "Ngh! Ohhh, you're gonna be the death of me..."

Lalo

This was terrifying.

You could feel Lalo staring down at you, almost evaluating you. He was quiet. Eerily quiet. Shouldn't he be like moaning or something? Oh god, were you boring him? You totally were, weren't you? The thoughts raced in your head until his deep voice drew them to a halt.

"You don't have to be so nice, y'know."

You froze and looked up at him in confusion, your mouth still full of cock. "Hmm?"

Lalo chuckled and nudged you off him. "I mean you're being too careful, baby. You nervous or something? It's not gonna bite you, sweetheart."

You drew your eyes away from him and sighed. "Well, I mean... kinda... I've never really done this before..."

Lalo cupped your face in his hands and gave you some words of encouragement. "Really? Well, for a first-timer, you're doing alright. You want some help?"

Help? What, was he gonna suck himself off? Give you a demonstration? You answered hesitantly. "Wh... What do you mean?"

Lalo smiled and caressed your cheek. "Well, for starters, don't be afraid to get messy. Like, the wetter the better, y'know? And don't worry about making it pretty. You're cute either way. I'll enjoy the show."

You blushed and laughed nervously. "I... Yeah, okay... So like... be messy?"

"Yeah! Really messy. And take it deeper, if you can. If you gag, you'll actually make more spit and it lubes it up for you." Lalo ran his fingers through your hair and held his cock against your lips. "Do you want me to show you?"

You could tell what was coming. You were staring it right in the face, and you liked what you saw. "I... Yeah... Not too crazy though, alright?"

Lalo chuckled again. "Of course. Just relax."

Apparently, he must have had a different definition of crazy, because you were thoroughly unprepared for him to start. He knotted his fingers in your hair and used your mouth to jerk himself off, hard, fast, and relentless. He forced you down to the base and held you there as you gagged. He seemed to be enjoying himself, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath as you drenched his cock in drool.

"Oh, eso es. Está bien, cariño... Carajo, tu boca de puta me siente tan bueno... (Oh, that's it... That's good, sweetheart... Goddamn, your whore mouth feels so good.)" He pulled you off him and let you breathe after coughing up more spit. He laughed at the sight of you. "There you go! Good boy! Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

[paddockbunny]

One

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 4,418 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, misogynistic Pierre, language, mention of sex & blowjobs, descriptions of women's bodies etc. 💞Authors Note : This is going to be written from a first person narrative and will switch from Aria's POV and Pierre's POV. No idea how long this will be but I'm considering posting every race day (not sure yet due to work commitments, as usual). OH, and if you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter's before I make a dedicated page for it!!

Pierre

I let out a long, laboured sigh as I slide into the car. I really didn’t want to be doing this. I would much rather have been still in bed with Jessica - or was it Jenna or maybe Jennie, fuck maybe it was Julie? It began with a J in any case. And anyway, who fucking cares?! All that mattered was I had to peel myself away from her this morning to get to the factory on time for this dumb as fuck meeting. A groan escaped me as I suddenly remembered how fucking phenomenal Jessica (Jenna, Jennie or Julie) was at giving head and how I would much rather be getting sucked off right now rather than go to this boring meeting where some big wigs will talk AT me not TO me for a few hours and waste my day.

Ben opens the door on the other side of the car and gets in. He slides into the back next to me and I can’t help but glance over at him as as he checks his watch and tuts about the fact we’re going to be late. I let him stew instead of answering him. There’s no point. Last year I realised pretty quickly he was one of those types of guys. The ones that were so regimented and anal about doing things right and on time that even a minute behind schedule and he would be having an internal meltdown. I just let him do what he wants without input from me. So I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and smirk to myself when I see a DM from a Jocelyn Silva pop up - JOCELYN! Her name was Jocelyn! - so I click on it and it’s a photo. She’s lying in the bed I had just left her in throwing the camera some “come hither eyes” with a tiny little pout dancing across her full (filler injected) lips. But I only fleetingly glance at her face, it’s lower that I pay more attention too and the fact the bedsheet barely covered her exquisite boobs and the deep sun kissed glow from her tanned skin. I’m sure she said she was a model or trying to be a model and really, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine her in a bikini or lingerie in front of a camera. I swallow instinctively upon remembering what she tasted like last night before actually reading the text that went along with her provocative pic.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

Was it too soon to ask if she would be down for tonight? That picture she sent was enough to give me blue balls for the rest of the day. I clear my throat so I don’t laugh aloud at how ridiculous I sounded. No pussy was that good to go chasing after so quickly. So I sent a stock response back;

PierreGasly: until we do…give me something to remember you by?🍑

And click off my phone to stare out of the window hoping I could stay in control of the blood rushing down toward my dick. It was raining (again) in England. The country looked so dull and grey in comparison to some of the other places we visited with the travelling circus that was F1 but they wanted me here, in Enstone for a meeting ahead of flying out for testing next week. Ben’s ear had already been significantly chewed off about that. I was supposed to be at the PSG match tonight, had a date lined up and everything - Aletta Dekker, sister of Lars Dekker the Dutch tennis player. We’d gone out a few times, fucked a lot, but I actually got on well with her. We could chat without feeling the need for it to go anywhere. It was just some fun with no strings attached. I didn’t have the balls to let her down over the phone so chickened out and text her saying I needed a rain check. The irony now as the rain hammered down on the car as we drove down a monotonous English motorway was not lost on me.

It took close to two hours to get to the factory. I never stayed near it simply because there was fucking nothing there so we’d come up from London to the factory and go back when the day was over. It wasn’t like all those years at AT where you could at least be in the beautiful Italian countryside and take in the stunning landscapes out the window, not fields and copious amounts of cows and sheep. When we finally pulled in front of the building where all the offices and important rooms with important people in them were, Ben finally asked if I knew what this was all about. Seriously, he didn’t even question this random meeting until the moment he stepped out of the car and I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. I liked Ben, he had become a good friend over the course of last year. It’s hard not to grow close to someone you see pretty much every day and does everything with you.

“No idea.” I told him as he rounded the back of the car as I shut the car door. “Hope I’m getting a raise for dealing with all that shit last year though.” Ben laughed at my words, which weren’t intended as a joke but must have sounded like one. As two of the guys from Alpine came out from the building to greet us, apologise for the bad weather and issue us inside my phone buzzed in my pocket and I wondered if that was the photo I had asked that Jocelyn girl for earlier. Took her time didn’t she? I made sure I didn’t scoff and tried to stay professional as we walked through the building while the guys I had met a million times before talked about the weather and asked me if it was better in Paris - clearly not clocking the tan I was sporting to realise I had certainly not spent my winter break in Paris.

“We’re just in here, Pierre.” The shorter, more rotund one of the two opened the door and held it open for me. I’d been in here before. It was where I had that big meeting with the big bosses after the incident in Singapore but the less said about that the better. I recognised everyone in the room. Otmar and the like were all sitting around the oval table and got up immediately to welcome me. But my eyes were firmly trained on the mass of long brown curls and feminine shoulders that were still sat at the table facing away from me. This was a new addition. There hadn’t usually been a woman at these meetings before. I glance around and confirmed no one had been fired and I hadn’t found out. So maybe she was just a new PR girl or one of the girls that worked in the offices at the factory. Otmar suggested I take a seat and so I did. The mystery girls head turned slightly, enough that I could make out some of her features. Cute straight nose, naturally full lips and high as hell cheekbones. She had to have only been around 23 or 24 perhaps? But maybe I was wrong and she only just looked younger - I wasn’t the best at women’s ages and my I knew better than to presume I knew anything about the feminine being anyway - anyway, as Otmar started speaking I would be sure to find out exactly who this new addition was.

“As you know, at the end of last season I told you I would be discussing things with some of our bosses and whatnots at the end of year review we have. The big debrief meeting where all the heads of department get together and talk about the good things and the not so good things that happened and how we could look to improve in the future. Y’know, like our race debriefs at the end of a race day….” Yeah Otmar, I know, I’m not fucking stupid get to to point. I pull my leg up and rest my ankle upon my opposite knee while I sit back in the chair and nod in the right places. “Well, one of the things that kept coming up was the tension between yourself and Esteban and the incidents that arose last year.” He means him running me off the track at two separate races, trying to break test me anytime I was behind him, me bashing him in front of the cameras any chance I got but it was probably, the public near fight caught by cameras in Singapore when I tried to get my own back by flirting with his girlfriend that was what he was really referring too.

“Pierre with your results last year there’s no doubt of your future within the team but the negative attention the pair of you have garnered has raised a lot of concern.” “Otmar I…” I was going to tell him it takes two to tango and if this conversation was happening with me it better be happening with Ocon too. He was as much to blame for last year as I was. But a hand made me pause while he continued. “However, after some deliberation on how to resolve the conflict and how we can possibly move in a more positive direction for all of us involved. We have decided to bring in an image guardian.” I look at him like he’s grown another head. What the fuck was an image guardian? And that was when I saw his hand flick over toward the girl that had momentarily occupied my mind before Otmar started talking.

This time, when I looked over at her, she was looking straight back at me with quite possibly a pair of the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen before. A soft, sincere smile spread across her lips as her hand rose from her lap in a “that’s me” gesture. Fuck, I couldn’t help but imaging those eyes staring up at me while she had her lips wrapped around my cock. Which involuntarily twitched in my jeans while I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t daydreaming. The words “image guardian” were still ringing in my ears so I most certainly in reality and not a twisted dreamland. “Sorry, what exactly is an image guardian?” I had truthfully never heard of the term and was one hundred percent certain they were making this up. “Well, we felt that the added pressure that the press and marketing teams had to face last year was rather, unfair to them. Their jobs turned into looking after or, perhaps that’s not the right words, making sure the both of you were looked after which meant some of those PR people weren’t as focused on their jobs as maybe they should have been.” I knew he was indirectly referring to Claudia without actually wanting to say her name but the less said about her the better. “So we created the role of an image guardian specifically to make sure your own PR game is onboard with ours. Someone who can liaise from your side with regards to meeting the needs of the team.”

Things took a minute to click in. He was bullshitting. This was a totally made up job so they could make someone my fucking nanny. “A babysitter?” I exclaimed loudly, my anger clearly evident in my voice and body language mimicking it. My foot fell back to the floor and I leaned in. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” I glance back over toward this girl whose name I didn’t even know (but who moments ago I had envisioned fucking) that was now labelled as my fucking au pair. “Pierre, it’s image guardian and we feel that you do.” Otmars voice changed tone. He was now not as breezy has he had been. He turned direct and much more commanding. “This is bullshit.” “Esteban has also been given an image guardian who will consult regularly with Miss Armund to ensure a more harmonious season this year. I can’t stress enough how this needs to work, Pierre. You know what can happen if it doesn’t.” I fucking knew. I had seen how people like Ricciardo and Mick Schumacher had been treated. Fuck! How I myself had been treated a few years ago at Red Bull. But a minder? Really? “And what is it she’ll do?” “I think Miss Armund is best to talk to you about that.”

“Hi…” She was nervous. She took a pause after simply saying hello. I was probably glaring at her like I wanted to set her on fire which might not have helped, but rage ran through my veins like boiling hot lava. “Firstly, I just want to introduce myself. I’m Aria Armund. I was born and raised in France till I was 10 and then moved here to England so if you want to talk to me in French you can, I’m bilingual.” There was a pause when she looked at me and I could tell she was waiting for me to say something polite (probably in French) but absolutely nothing came to mind that I wanted to say to her. She took a little breath in and it was usually while I was giving girls the come on when they got this nervous around me. I rolled my eyes and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as the pause seemed to get longer. I observed her straightening up and let out a quick exhale. She seemed to be gathering herself and I clocked her little touch of the bracelet on her wrist as if it was somehow giving her the strength to keep going.

“So basically, what I’m here to do is to look after you. You’re not particularly incorrect in thinking I’m a “babysitter” as you called it. My sole purpose is to keep you out of trouble. To minimise any issues you may have with your team mate and prevent them from leaking into the media. I’ll also help make sure your image doesn’t suffer from all of your liaisons with various….friends, and you don’t end up on the gossip pages as you have done in previous years. I’ll make sure your reputation and that of Alpine isn’t damaged in any way, shape or form.” Where did her sudden directness come from? Her nerves seemed to evaporate immediately. It was confusing it happened at such breakneck speed. But how she managed to take control of herself and take charge was nothing shorter than a major turn on. She could take control of me anytime she wanted. “Ok?” She smiled and it was now on me.

I had nothing to say or at least nothing came to mind as those swimming pool blue eyes stared into mines like they were trying to read my mind. As she turned her head away and Otmar went to speak suddenly a question did pop into my head. “Who does Ocon have?” I asked the question in the direction of her turned head. When she looked away some of her glossy curled locks fell across her shoulder and drew my attention directly to her ample chest. She was a woman - very much a woman - and I had a horrible feeling that Alpine might have been trying to set me up for failure. What with everything that happened with Claudia. “Excuse me?” Otmar seemed confused. “Who is looking after Ocon? You said he had a babysitter too.” In those minutes my question went unanswered, I hoped it would click on someone’s brain about why I was asking and I wouldn’t actually have to fucking say it. “Uh….” Otmar sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at me in a fashion that told me he twigged and he realised the intonation behind my questioning. He didn’t expect me to react like this, did he? During the increasingly awkward pause I fully believed that he was imposing this girl on me as a way to trip me up so he could get rid of me at the end of the year. If Esteban got a guy babbysitter then there was my answer. He would be getting off with his dickhead behaviour last year. “Mr Ocon’s guardian is Kyle Gilby.” Aria spoke up and I let out a quick exhale of air. Why the fuck did this not surprise me? I knew it. I could sense it from the way Otmar was staring at me. Ocon gets someone he can talk to, level with and I get stuck with her? Typical. “Is there a problem Mr Gasly?” Fuck her calling me Mr Gasly. Girls only usually called me that in the bedroom, not a boardroom.

I pretend there isn’t but there is. The whole thing is totally fucked but what can I do? I don’t want thrown out my seat so I have to play ball. And if that means I have to have a babysitter then fine, I’ll do it. This whole thing was feeling like a massive, risky, fucked up game of temptation? I made an audible scoff because I know where this is going and I know she won’t last long meaning they’ll probably get their way. I can’t help the fact I was born a flirt and women always fell for it. I’d give it two or three months before they’ll be having conduct meetings with me after she breaks her fraternisation contract clause after firing her for sleeping with the person she’s there to manage. It’s happened before and it will happen again. After all, it’s their own fault for hiring someone that would look more at home in Playboy or Sports Illustrated than working in an F1 team. They seriously couldn’t have hired someone less, tempting? They couldn’t have given her to Ocon and at least pretend they weren’t setting me up for failure?

Thankfully the meeting was over rather quickly. There were orders to go with her somewhere so she could do something or other and go over stuff but by that point I was zoned out. I cancelled my plans for this? They could have just told me over the phone. I didn’t need to be here in person when it would have been a quick email. I try not to sigh when I lean forward in my chair to get up but notice her move first. When she rises from her seat I can’t help but cast my eyes over her body. A perfect rack was hidden behind a satin-y type blouse and her smart, tight trousers did little to stem my attention away from her perky, peachy rear practically begging to be spanked. I was right. Playboy or Sports Illustrated. She would look so pretty on her knees. Give it a few weeks, I tell myself. By Miami she’ll be begging for me. I can tell.

Fifteen minutes later we were sat in a smaller, more bland impersonal office while she tried to convince me to hand over my social media passwords. “Mr Gasly, I assure you that your accounts and information will be safe with me. I simply need access in order to keep on top of any potential Alpine related business.” She was getting me riled up at this point. “Last year I believe there were, incidents, over social media with some questionable comments?” She was referring to the emoji’s wasn’t she? The PR girls laughed about them last year but she said it with a straight face. “I simply need to be able to delete anything that would be unsavoury toward your own reputation and the team.” “Telling people my favourite sex position through an emoji is not damaging to my reputation or the team.” I retort back with a smooth laugh. I thought it would throw her but the silence and stoney face I was met with made me push it even further. I smirked before adding; “it’s the dog by the way.” Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t recall the last time I wasn’t able to flirt and smooth talk a girl into at least raising a smile. But there was nothing from her. “It’s the dog because my favourite position is doggy…” “Yes, I gathered that Mr Gasly.” She hastily shut me up and I noticed her roll her eyes. Was she not into men? Maybe that’s why my forwardness wasn’t doing it for her.

“Please, your passwords.” I watched as slowly she placed her pen on top of a notepad and pushed it across the glass topped table toward me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. They stayed trained on me as if she had gone through military training. Unflinching. I would have been complaining if they weren’t so fucking captivating. You could get lost in these eyes.

“Earn them.” I glanced over toward Ben and smirked again. It was a game at this point. I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me?” “I said, earn them.” I didn’t even know where this was going or why it was coming out of my mouth. I just went with it. I liked how women would squirm a little when I turned it on and I desperately wanted to know she was eating out of the palm of my hand, so sue me. But if I expected her to crumble like all of the others she surprised me. She sat back in her chair and took a deep breath before exhaling. For a brief second I thought I won and I managed to rattle her but unfortunately for me, apparently not.

“Listen, looking after a twenty-seven year old self confessed playboy is not something I thought I would be doing when I got this job so if you think your flirting will have an effect on me and I will pull a Claudia, was it? Then you are very much mistaken.” It was I that was rumbled. And she had to mention last years indiscretion by name so she had clearly been told all about it - or had she read about it online and didn’t need anyone else’s judgment about it to pass her own judgment on to me? “Now…Mr Gasly, your passwords.” Touché. Fucking Touché.

I reached for the pen and notepad and noted how much I felt like a child. It was as if I had been sent to the Alpine School’s principle’s office for being naughty in class. As I wrote down the passwords for her highness, my phone buzzed again in my jeans pocket and it suddenly l dawned on me that she would see everything I received. She would see all of the DMs I was sent along with the mountains of nudes (such as those waiting on me from last nights hook-up) that various girls sent me, mostly without a single shred of prompting. I should probably have felt a little embarrassed or ashamed by them in all fairness but for some reason - probably because she was acting like a fake ball buster she actually was one - I wasn’t. Let her look. There’s probably a fair few suggestive ones of myself on there she could find too if she really wanted too. I cursed the route of thought my own mind suddenly drove me down as now I was imagining her sliding her hand down past the waistband of her tight trousers to get off on the risqué pics I had floating around in some conversations. But she didn’t seem like the type. Fortunately for me the passwords were enough to appease her, for now. She smiled - a fake one of course - and said that was all, I could leave before adding she would would see me at testing. She would be at testing? This girl was really going to be sticking to me like glue, wasn’t she?

Thankfully, this whole fiasco was clearly coming to an end and I glanced toward the door and was desperately trying to think of something smart to say and a way to get out of here. I didn’t want to hang around for any longer than I needed to and certainly not long enough for her to continue getting one over on me or getting a metaphorical upper hand again, but it looked like she had and there was nothing I could do. When I happened to look toward Ben I realised he was smirking and clearly holding back a laugh. He was married and so never really joined in (nor understood) with the flirting and flustering behaviour I was king at. Now, after I had lost the opening match against her, it was as if he could read my startled little mind and I certainly didn’t like that. I arose out if my seat opposite my new babysitter and stared at her for a moment. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever worked in F1 - or even just a sport - before because she didn’t act like how all the girls usually acted around guys in sport. She simply seemed unimpressed. Stoic almost. “Goodbye, Mr Gasly.” A normal girl would be turned on by saying that over and over again. By now imagining how it would feel to be bent over the glass desk and having me rail them into next week. But she used it formally, professionally and without a single shred of sarcasm. I just about managed to get to the door to the office when my phone buzzed loudly one more time and I paused to remove it from my pocket.

“I hope that isn’t something I am going to have to get involved in?” Her sweet, soft voice echoed from behind and my sudden laughter filled the room as my brain had come up with the most perfect of perfect responses. “Not unless you want to make it a threesome?” I didn’t hang around long enough for her to respond and mentally high fives myself for my quick retort. She lead herself into it and my brain couldn’t catch up to my mouth. She may have been hired to be my babysitter, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for her.

[mecachrome]

Hi I would love to hear about the elaborate secret wag au you hinted at in the pastries post if youre up to talking about it. I think I need it injected directly into my veins I love it so much

ok note to self i have to stop calling things elaborate when in reality i mean that i think about them really hard before i fall asleep and then promptly forget anything interesting afterward. but of course i'd love to discuss this very vague universe some more!! :')

honestly this is all an extremely self-indulgent exercise because i'm just a huge sucker for the combined secret relationship + famous/non-famous trope, and i will always read/write it for any ship iteration that presents itself! like there is nothing i love more than understated displays of devotion, especially when it plays into the 4th wall socmed fuckery space of one half being famous and having an otherwise large social profile and the other being very lowkey and resisting any publicity about themselves... in that vein i can't tell whether the concept is super cringe & embarrassing (well i can & i know it is, but the question is whether that is enough to Stop Me!!!) because obviously lando dating some Boring Dude requires a er... certain suspension of disbelief (also sorry for any unintentional disrespect to maxf), but what is fandom for if not making stupid shit up <3

anyway the secretwag concept also developed from two things, 1) how much i enjoy & endorse oscar's private-not-secret relationship philosophy + 2) lando's extreme loyalty to & dependence on all of his childhood relationships, so the idea kind of took root as "what if oscar→lando what lily→oscar (and also kind of what maxf→lando)" but just with more of lando's friendgroup dynamix & his streamer identity folded into the mix. the origins of their rship are what remain the most ambiguous & handwavey 2 me but in short they'd somehow meet when they were younger (maybe oscar is the same age as lando, maybe lando stayed in school longer, maybe oscar moved to the uk earlier and they met during their karting days... idk!!!) except then because of finances oscar decides to go into engineering and gives up on motorsport pretty early on.

(tbh i always struggle with justifying non-driverness in canon divergence fic because i'm like WELL REALISTICALLY oscar would just go into another professional racing category if f1 weren't feasible, BUT ignoring that) i think oscar would objectively be a super adjusted engineering student and would thrive academically / not stew in self-pity about giving up racing, so i really like this idea of like... sure, oscar is One Of The Lads, but unlike most people in lando's life who revolve around his work somehow or otherwise reflect his level of celebrity—drivers, the quadrant team, d-grade influencers & djs & social media personalities—oscar is just... Oscar. he's the smartest person lando knows and his love language is quality time and lando is the one usually doing acts of service for all his friends but oscar always wordlessly & unquestionably reciprocates that for him (lando annoying oscar into giving him a massage every night and oscar conceding immediately like ok... jon who❤️) and while lando has to go out of his way to navigate/manage the emotions of those around him and feels indebted to all his friendships he's never had to do that for oscar because oscar is the steadiest part of his life. and then obviously at some point when they're young dumb & drunk they get fucked up about it and start dating on the dl

(waves hands) anyway IDK but i'm just stuck on the image of like lando at 19 starting his first season of f1 and being raw and uncertain of himself and constantly catastrophizing about the future and trying to build out his brand and prove himself, and even like maxf is racing full-time that year, but at least he has oscar who's away at uni (in slightly aged up verse) and shows up at his place every weekend to ground him... like oscar never sugarcoats anything OR doubts himself OR needs lando to be any less open about his irrational fears so lando is like damnnn your cringefail earnestness and clear-eyed perspective of reality has kind of bewitched me *momentarily healed* etc. ft. domestic bants & the birth of master baker oscarpastry when covid hits and everything goes virtual & they quarantine together... lando starts streaming regularly and there's just this random dude in the background of half his streams and chat is like "???" every time like. Who is that + Why is he australian + Why is he cooking you dinner at 1am. his only social media profile is a private ig page with 50 followers.

+ after grad they keep living together and oscar becomes a wfh developer and i imagine him being very financially steady and self-sufficient but also like... deeply LAZY, so he has 0 ambition or intention to chase anything more demanding and is happy to just do his boring software job + be lando's househusband after hours LOL. like bringing lando pastries at quadrant shoots (ty chel 4 this image) between dull code reviews & expertly ducking away from the landolog camera & letting lando drive them around in his stupid gimmick cars and just generally toeing the line perfectly of being invested in lando's success and caring as deeply about motorsport as he does and even kicking his ass in iracing sometimes because he's kept up with sim racing but also keeping his ego in check and not making him engage in the world/politics/circus of f1 more than he has the capacity for on their off-weekends *__* finally lando is like babe i need to go commit tax fraud in monaco and oscar is just like ❤️ ok ❤️ we can move out tomorrow ❤️ and they find a tiny flat that's deeply overpriced but it's Them and it works. oscar plans his days off so he can go to half the races but nobody ever even notices him because the photographers don't know he exists.... except for maxv who lives in their building and met oscar once and was immediately like I Respect You #fellowsimracer so now whenever he sees oscar they get caught up in a conversation for like 30 minutes about random nerd shit and lando is very discombobulated about it every time. on the other hand maxf has been trying to be chill about lando of all people having been in a healthy committed relationship for the past 6-ish years so he frequently gets into trouble for making bad jokes about their sex life on stream that everyone thinks is them being homophobic etc. etc. ANYWAY YOU GET THE GIST OF IT!!!

[and-claudia]

Against All Odds (Joel Miller x reader) Prologue pt.3

Warnings: CT Violence

Word Count: 1359

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that's not your jam, I'm sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won't actually be in it for a bit

This is the last part of the Prologue!!!!! So there will be a pretty big time jump in the next part.

Taglist Sign-Up

Yn was used to getting checked for infection. It was nothing new to her. She knew she wasn’t, but it always made her nervous watching her brothers and father get checked as well. She watched and held her breath as Scott got checked. Green. It turned green. 

“Breathe, kiddo. It’s okay.” He said, patting her back as they waited for Zeak and their dad to get checked as well. 

Once they were cleared they were led to some beat-up, old military vans to be transported. Yn tuned out the men barking orders around her. Scott helped her in and handed her her bag before climbing in behind her. 

“How long will this take?” She asked. 

“About 8 hours, give or take…” 

“That’s going to take forever.” She sighed. 

“You’ll be fine.” Scott reassured as their van pulled off. 

Yn and Zeak played a few rounds of ISpy, even getting Scott to play a few times before they got bored of that. She eventually got restless and decided it was time for a quick nap. So with her head resting on her brother she slowly slipped into a light sleep. 

When she woke up, the sun was setting. She looked all around trying to figure out where they were but most of the road signs along this highway had been overrun by the plants. Before she got the chance to ask though, she was cut off by the driver’s hand-held radio going off. 

“Hey, there’s a situation up here…” A voice on the other end said. 

“What’s going on? I got a van full of people I gotta drop off.” Their driver said, clearly annoyed. 

“Baltimore is gone…” 

Yn’s eyes went wide and she looked up at her brother. He knew this wasn’t good but wanted to find out more, so he held up a finger to his lips to tell her to stay quiet so he could listen. 

“What do you mean it’s gone? The QZ is in Baltimore… you can’t miss it. It didn’t just grow legs and walk away.” Their driver said. 

“Well, I see it. I also see hundreds of infected stumbling around it.” 

“Shit. Turn off your lights and drive out slowly. Don’t startle them, are they will swarm your van.” 

Yn’s chest felt tight as her heart began to race.

“Fuck. They’re coming! Turn around NOW!” 

The whole van fell silent as the screams of the people in the other van crackled through the speaker on the radio.

“We’re taking a detour.” Their driver said before making a sharp turn. 

He grabbed his radio, “Baltimore has fallen, I repeat, the Baltimore Quartine Zone has fallen. Change route to Boston. We should have enough fuel to get us to within 5 miles. Van 1 has been attacked.” 

Although she knew they were, Yn checked and made sure that both her brothers and Pa were all in the same van. 

“How long will it take to get to Boston?” Someone in the back of the van asked. 

“Another seven hours. So get comfy. We will drive through the night.” 

Since she had slept earlier, Yn wasn’t super tired. Instead, she passed the time thinking about what awaited her and her family in Baston. She figured she’d finish school while her brothers and Pa found work. What types of jobs did they have there? From what she knew every QZ did things a little differently. Who knows if she’d even go to school? As she’s gotten older she’s realized it was different now. 

Scott went to school when he was young with the plan of going to college. Now, colleges weren’t really a thing, so was there even a point? Maybe she could get a job… help provide for her family as well. 

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed up but eventually, she fell asleep. When she woke up this time it was to Scott nudging her awake. 

“Wake up kiddo. We gotta go.” He said. 

“Why?” 

“Just come on. Stay close.” He said, grabbing her bag from where it sat at her feet. 

He got out and then turned to help her. The man that had been driving turned to face them. Now he held a shotgun in his hand. 

“Stay close. We’re about two eight miles away from the outskirts of the QZ. Infected aren’t common here but they can be here. If you have anything you can use to defend yourself, I suggest you grab it now.” He said. 

Each of Yn’s brothers and their dad had their own gun. They were her dad’s from back in Texas that he grabbed when they fled the night of the outbreak. Yn didn’t have one, she was too young. She did however have the knife she used to cut down her brother after he had hung himself. Scott told her to keep that night and it’s never left her pocket since. She pulled it out and flipped the blade out, then she looked to Scott for his approval. 

He gave a small nod, “Be careful. Stay right beside me.” He instructed. 

They had made it about 6 miles. Two more to go. Nothing had happened and the closer they got, the least likely they were to run into something… right? 

Yn heard something and snapped her attention that way. In the trees, she swear she saw something. 

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked. 

“The trees.” She said, now standing still, watching for something to move. 

“Just keep walking.” Scott said. 

She turned back to the trail they were walking. She made it a few paces ahead before Scott was yelling at her to watch out. She turned her head just in time to see it as it took her to the ground. She held her hands out, keeping it from biting her. 

“Scott! Scott! Help! Help me! Please! Please help me!” She screamed, clearly struggling to keep it off of her. 

Scott reacted quickly, pulling out his pistol and shooting it in the head twice. As it went limp, Yn managed to push it off of her. She sat up and pushed herself back along to the ground until her back hit a stump. 

“Did she get bit?” The driver asked, coming over to them. 

“No, she didn’t. She’s okay.” Scott said, crouching down in front of her, “Are you okay?”

She shook her head as the tears fell from her eyes, making tracks in the dirt on her cheeks from where she had fallen. 

“Did it bite you? It’s okay, we’ll take care of it, make it all better if it did. We just need to know. Did it?” 

Again she shook her head. 

“Positive?” 

She nodded this time. 

“Good, come here.” Scott said opening his arms. 

Yn launched herself into his arms and cried into his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” She mumbled through her tears. 

Scott opted to just carry her the rest of the way, she was still clearly in shock. He handed his gun back to their father so he could hold her better. He carefully stepped over the infected person and continued on down the trail. 

When they made it into the QZ they were checked for infection once again. This time it was Scott who held his breath while he watched his little sister get checked. Green. Good. It was green. She was okay. 

They were given a small apartment to live in and were told they would have to start working within the next couple of days. Someone would come to show them where to go tomorrow morning. That night, after supper, Yn was laying down in bed. Scott was nearby, watching her, making sure she was okay. When she was attacked, it scared him. He couldn’t lose her. He kept her sane in this crazy world they lived in. He knew their dad held a lot of resentment toward her ever since Chris’s death. He knew their dad blamed her. But he didn’t, he never could. 

Ever since that night, he made a promise to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect his sister, and he’d be damned if he was going to break that promise. 

tags:

@sexyvixen7@joelmillerslays@elliaze@strawbaby@little-lovely-darling@swimmjacket@watercolorskyy@mserynlarsen@sebby-staan@beelanie@fan-g0rl @paige96 @pedropascalfanclub @ameliadraws @mavs101 @azerty29 @rileyferg @belliedellie @rhaenyrasgf @imcreepininyourheartbabe @nani-kenobi @lunas-sstuff @holb32 @reidsgubbler @katmae1997 @dizzywinterdaydream @mrswidowjohansson @abzidabzy @givemeth @morgaussy @summerchicken

@strawbab

(Remove straw baby)

[tempurafied]

OKAY SO!! I'm in no way a professional writer, or tbh any good at writing, I kinda just write. And what did I write? Angst. And now I'm gonna share it here. :-)

Dannie x Shane

Angst. Hurt. Cliffhanger?

Shane didn’t know how to deal with these feelings at first. He began to feel this way about Dannie after a year of dealing with the farmer. Oh, how he desperately tried to deny those feelings, waving them off as admiration of their strong bond. But the heart wants what it wants, and Shane’s heart desperately wanted Dannie.

One day, after mulling over the idea and playing it out in his head, Shane was ready to tell Dannie. He shot Dannie a quick text, his fingers shakily gliding over the screen.

Shane: “Hey, you busy?”

Dannie: “Nope, watching some cartoons with Vale. You?”

Shane: “Bored out of my mind.”

Shane: “Why don’t you drop Valentina off here with Marnie and Jas? They wouldn’t mind. And we can go out for drinks?”

Dannie: “Sounds good. We’ll be there in a minute.”

It really did feel like a minute, what with their farms being so close to one another. With a soft knock, Dannie walked in with Valentina in his arms. He smiled as he saw Shane leaning against the counter waiting for them. He could hear the TV in the other room, assuming Marnie and Jas were already there.

“Hey, got here quick, huh?” Shane teased, pushing himself off the counter and walking over to Dannie.

“Who says no to drinks with their best friend?” Dannie teased right back, a low chuckle escaping his lips as that smile of his remained on his lips.

There was some quick conversation between everyone before Dannie eventually dropped Valentina off with Marnie, him and Shane then leaving the house. When Shane started making his way to the lake and not the saloon, Dannie raised his brow.

“I thought you said we’re getting a drink?” he asked, keeping at Shane’s side.

“We are, I just…wanted a quiet night tonight. I miss it just being us, y’know?” Shane replied with a nervous laugh. His heart raced thinking about what was to come.

The two made it to the lake, taking a seat at the old, rickety dock. It was a familiar spot for them, Dannie often swinging by to make sure Shane was okay. Tonight, it’d have a whole new meaning. The two spoke about everything, casually speaking amongst drinks, able to tell each other anything.

Dannie and Shane were about a beer and a half in, when Shane finally had enough of his brain’s yelling. This was it, he was going to tell Dannie.

“Hey, Dan? Could I…ask you something?” Shane asked, his voice slightly shaky. His cheeks already being pink from the alcohol was not helping.

Dannie raised his eyebrow, picking up on Shane’s shaky tone. “Of course,” he nodded gently.

Shane nearly held his breath, not ready and ready at the same time. His grip on the aluminum can tightening and crinkling under his hold. His eyes met Dannie’s before he began to speak.

“Dannie, you have become…pretty much the closest person to me. Whenever I need a shoulder to cry on, it's you. I can't think of the past two years without thinking of your smiling face. I…I think I’m in love with you. And..I was wondering if you’d…maybe want to start going out?”

As for Dannie, he sat there in stunned silence. He let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head softly.

“You're kidding, right? That was a joke? You actually liking me?” he asked, raising his brow. He didn't have that playful edge in his tone like he usually had, making Shane panic.

“W-What? No! I..I really do love you! Do you…not feel the same?” he muttered, almost bitterly knowing the answer. Of course this would be the answer. Why would Dannie like me?

“Shane. We’re both dudes. Two guys….they can't date. They don’t date. It's not natural,” Dannie added, a small frown growing on his lips as he spoke. He finished off his beer, setting the can down beside him and standing up.

“I’m going to go get Valentina and go back to the farm. …I don't want anyone knowing about this. We’re friends…but I’m not queer, Shane,” Dannie said sternly, eyeing Shane down with disappointment before walking off. His boots echoing and growing distant as he walked off.

Shane sat there, stunned, heartbroken even. He expected Dannie to reject him because, well, it's him. Who’d want to date him? But this…this was worse.

[bots-and-cons]

Knockout has once again gone out to street race again, but finds a somewhat friendly rivalry with a fleshie. Maybe even more than just friendly competition as they peak his interest and continue to meet up after races (he uses his holoform to hang out with them). I’d like to think that their odd little relationship would start with Knockout being in the lead and then suddenly the reader zooms past em. After the race they drive up next to him and compliment his alt mode. Knockout thanks em and leaves, and then after that they start seeing each other very often during and after street races.

(Gn reader, can be platonic or romantic, any format, I don’t rlly have a pref)

Oooh, I like this, I hope I did your idea justice. I'm tired so this might not be very cohesive, but I wanted to post something today since I need to do school work tomorrow and I have an appointment with my psych-nurse as well

•Knockout was going to one of the races again, and he saw a car there he hadn’t seen before

•He of course ended up getting paired up with this newbie, and he figured it would be an easy win, maybe even a boring race

•In his experience the newbies weren’t very good at racing and were usually just some kids who wanted to show off to their friends

•But as it happens, you win and he’s pretty in awe at your driving skills, like the way you drifted around that one bend? Perfection

•You though the red sports car you had gone up against had a very cool look and the driver was very skilled, so you wanted to tell them that

•you drove up next to him and rolled down your window, telling him it was a good race and that you’d love to race him again

•Knockout of course loves getting compliments and he tells you you’re a very good driver also and he’s up for a rematch any time

•You start meeting at the races and eventually Knockout even uses his holoform, so he can hang out with you

•He doesn’t usually really take to humans, but your skills behind the wheel have impressed him and he wants to get to know you

•Also your car is super cool looking, not quite as good looking as his alt mode but close enough for him to consider it cool

•You were a bit weirded out at first since he would only speak to you from inside the car, not even scrolling down his window, but when you met him (well his holoform at least) you thought he was interesting and wanted to get to know him

•You ended up talking a lot after the races, sometimes sitting on the hood of your car until sunrise, just talking about anything and everything

•You end up racing a lot too, sometimes you win, sometimes he wins, and you always analyze your races afterwards, comparing your driving styles and stuff like that

•You find his sense of humor a bit odd, and he sometimes says some weird things, like “Oh Primus” which you’ve taken to mean something similar to “Oh god”

•He’s a funny guy, a bit odd and self centered for sure, but you find him interesting

[bread52487]

This is an idea I had, so. Enjoy ig? It's probably gonna be a one shot unless ppl like it and I get more ideas. Uhm, in this universe I'm writing in for plot reasons the rifts from the end of season 4 didn't happen as bad. They still happened, and it still shook things up enough. A pretty decent earthquake basically. But it didn't split the town like a bad relationship.

There are still some sizeable rifts, but basically it's a universe where they either killed vecna or just hurt him enough he went crawling into a hole somewhere before he could finish doing his big bad things and split the earth open totally. Just some bigger than normal hellportals.

Also I have no clue what to call this lol.

⚠️ warning for relatively cannon typical blood and violence and bullying. Also descriptions including kinda gross sounding words lol. ⚠️

Tags: fix-it, steddie, pre-steddie, humor (?. Idk am I funny?), cannon divergence, vampire Eddie (sorta), kas Eddie (also sorta), weird Demobat hybrid Eddie (yeah mostly that)

~~~

The Upside Down was the same as it had been last time Steve was here, and the time before that. It was still and quiet, like a photograph of the town from the day the first gate had opened. A snapshot of Hawkins through some fucked up filter. The ash still rained as it always did, and the sky was red and angry as it always was. Your shoes still stuck to the ground just enough that it was difficult when you walked.

Steve didn't want to be back here. But, Dustin had insisted.

The Kid had come racing into Family Video that way he'd done a month prior, kicking off the start of the latest season of "What's The Hell Dimension Under Ours Gonna Spit At Us This Time?" His bike was left abandoned on the sidewalk, back wheel spinning idly and kickstand forgotten.

The first thing Steve had noticed was the guitar slung across Dustin's back. It was a Warlock. Eddie's Warlock.

One of the thinner strings was snapped and curling, bouncing as Dustin hunched over trying to catch his breath and talk at the same time. His words were incoherent, but he kept trying until Robin finally stopped him.

"Breathe first. Then speak." She rolled a water bottle to Dustin across the counter, and glanced at Steve. A wordless look that was aimed right to Steve's crossed arms and narrowed eyes. Asking him is he was really going to scold Dustin.

He was.

Steve waited till Dustin was done drinking-- Because yes, Steve Harrington is a decent human being and isn't gonna yell at the kid when he's got a mouthful of water and can't defend himself-- and then bore down on him. A glare directly at the ash still settled in Dustin's hair.

"Didn't I tell all of you to stay away from The Gates? Because I'm pretty sure I did."

"But-"

"You could have gotten stuck! Or attacked by something in there. Not to mention you could've brought back something. How would you feel if someone else's cat got eaten because of some hitchhiker you brought from Hell?"

"I had to bring back something! Before I couldn't anymore." Dustin huffed, struggling with the guitars strap for a second before sliding it gently onto the counter.

It was covered in dust and ash, minus the spots Dustin had grabbed it, but otherwise it looked the same. Just like it had when it's owner left it in the parallel trailer park a month ago.

Robin warily eyed a spattering of... something across the body of the Warlock. "Dude. That thing is probably covered in all sorts of diseases.

"It's- Well, actually it might be. But... it's also all I- we have left..."

Some of the tension bled from Steves shoulders. He understood. He still woke up every night with a sour taste in his mouth and his eyes burning, a memory painted behind his eyelids of having to pry Dustin, broken eyes and going voice, from the body of someone Steve wished he'd known sooner. That hadn't gotten wrapped up in this. That might be here if he were luckier. Of telling Dustin they had to leave the body, because they were running out of time. Because they couldn't grieve yet, because they had to go. And leave Eddie behind.

Robin though, turned her skeptical look to Dustin. "And that's all you brought back. Right?"

"Wh- Yes!" Robin raised her eyebrow, "... Okay. I did go down for him originally but... I couldn't find him..."

"...Are you sure you were looking in the right spot?"

"You think I would forget where he was?" Dustin spat, and Robin held her hands up.

"Hey, I'm just saying"

"Well, yes. I was. I'm sure. His blood was there, but... he and the dead Demobats were all gone."

Silence. Then Robin looked at Steve, eyes wider and jaw clenched. Steve gave her the same look, already shedding his uniform vest.

He and Robin had already talked about this. About going down and bringing Eddie back. They'd been planning since El had walked into Family Video about a week after the earthquake. She'd told them that the Gates were closing. That she had already told the rest of The Party. That her and Dustin had already been tracking it, but there wasn't any consistency in the speed at which they closed only that they were closing, and it was unpredictable and unstoppable.

El had then rented a movie, because apparently Max had suggested she watch Carrie and she was already at the video store, and then left. Leaving Steve and Robin with partially eaten sandwiches from the Subway down the street and the same thing on both of their minds.

From then Steve had declared that none of the kids were to go near the gates. For fear it might draw something out. But it was mostly an unnecessary rule, since most of them weren't at any risk of trying to jump back into The Upside Down. Most of them.

After, he and Robin and started to plan. To think of a way to, before the Gates were too small and when they were ready enough to go back, bring Eddie back topside.

To give themselves, the kids, and Eddie's Uncle the closure they deserved.

To end the gossiping, the people that talked like they knew for sure Eddie had done it. That they were sure Hellfire Club was responsible for the Earthquake. The whispers whoever Wayne Munson was around. And the kids at school that seemed more brutal than ever towards those like Dustin who still wore their Hellfire shirts proudly.

And, to keep Dustin out of trouble.

The first Steve had heard of Dustin's misbehaving was from Claudia. She had called him one day, nearly in tears out of concern for her baby. Asking Steve to look out for him. She told Steve about how Dustins first day back at school, when it reopened two weeks after the 'earthquake', was spent in the Dean's office.

Apparently, some kids had decided to take a sharpie to Eddie's locker. They had already blotted out a good deal of the drawings Eddie himself had done, vandalizing them and, when Dustin had seen them, they'd been writing something across the metal that Dustin refused to repeat.

Dustin had retaliated in a way that would have made Steve laugh proudly. If it weren't so uncharacteristic for Dustin to retaliate at all.

He had picked the locks of the vandals lockers, a skill Steve remembered Dustin mentioning Eddie had taught him after they'd been locked out of the Drama room, and attached the parts from Shock Gum he had gotten from the gift shop back at Camp Know Where to the insides of the doors.

The only reason Dustin was caught was because the lockers were right outside the gym. The PE Teacher had seen Dustin and called to him, and in trying to run away Dustin had tweaked his bad ankle. The PE teacher caught up and marched Dustin all the way to the Dean's office to explain what he'd done.

Since then, Claudia had brought up more things she was concerned about. Dustin's grades were slipping, and he was spending more time locked up in his room than was probably normal for a teenage boy. After this Steve had a sneaking suspicion that the other kids weren't fairing any better.

This was the last straw. Dustin had gone back into The Upside Down. Put himself in danger. So Steve decided it was time. Time to put his and Robins, still admittedly half baked, plan into action. "Rob. Stay here with Dustin. He's not allowed to follow me. No matter what he says."

"What, why?!" Dustin straightened, glaring at Steve.

Steve glared right back, hands on his hips, "Because. You've already been down there for who knows how long once today, I'm stronger so I'll be able to carry him, and I know your ankle is messed up again. You were limping on your way in... I also don't want to have to explain to Claudia if you go missing."

Dustin deflated. It was clear that he hadn't wanted to go back, his hands were still shaking, but he still seemed disappointed. "Fine. But you have to bring him back. And Robin and I are watching The Holy Grail while you're gone."

"Sounds like a plan to me Dusty-Bun!" Robin smiled, just a little too tight, and pressed her palm to the top of Dustin's head. Steve relaxed as Dustin shoved her off with a squawk, like none of this had happened. Like there wasn't a hell dimension under their own. Like Steve wasn't about to hop into it to drag their friends dead body back to reality.

Now, Steve grimaced as he looked across the landscape. Bat in hand, he had jumped into the one where Fred had died. It was close enough to the trailer park it wouldn't be too far of a walk, but far enough that it wasn't swarming with people from the lab.

It was almost the same. Down to the gross squish when he stepped. Except... there was something missing. A pressure in the air was gone. The feeling of the place, like you were being judged. Watched. Hunted. Gone, along with seemingly all the beasts that roamed it.

Not a single bat, no unfurling faceless faces. Not even a screech of something Seve never wants to see.

Nothing.

And so he walks, stopping occasionally at imaginary sounds or to look at the ash falling from the clouds. It was almost like snow, except with the stench of rot.

The feeling Steve had come to associate with The Upside Down and the beings within it finally made its presence known the closer he got to the trailer park. Yet despite the uncomfortable yet familiar weight on his shoulders, he still saw and heard nothing.

It was pretty clear the closer he got that Dustin was right, that the bats were noticeably gone. But, when Steve could finally see the amps atop the trailer in the distance, he stopped. Because he could see it again. See him again.

He could see Eddie, torn to ribbons by those bats. The same as he had looked a month ago. See someone that could have lived if he had been there. Had been quicker.

Steve blinked away the burning behind his eyes and forced down the limp in his throat, and at a second glance Eddie's broken body on the ground was in fact gone.

So Steve crept closer.

Dustin was right, all that remained was the tan dirt stained a red-brown.

But what Dustin hadn't mentioned, or maybe hadnt seen, was the footprints. Maybe Steve had been too busy trying to not die last time he was here to notice them either. But, now he could see footprints in the ashy dirt.

There were fresh smaller ones, Dustin's probably. And some more, various sizes and a bit filled in with ash and dirt. Probably from a month ago. And, there was set going around the area, the blood and the trailer, and then off to somewhere that he knew none of them had traveled. And those same footprints seemed to return and leave to and from the same direction.

So, like the totally sane adult he was, Steve followed them. Off into the twisted, skeletal afterimage of the woods behind the trailer park.

The ash seemed to fall thicker despite the gnarled branches overhead, and the ground turned spongey with wet, rotting underbrush as Steve walked. The trees were draped with... something. Something stringy and slimy that Steve would rather not touch.

He wasn't too far in when he heard something. The first sound he'd heard since he'd come through the gate.

It wasn't identifiable. Not as the low, chest rattling chitters of a Demogorgon, nor the rolling screech of the Demobats. But rather something in between. Something he didn't want to meet.

It was too low to be a Demobat, but too high and hoarse to be a Demogorgon. And it sounded like a call to hunt.

In response to the demonic starting pistol, the trees came alive. Steve ran.

Wings. So many wings. The slimy, leathery wings that plauged his nightmares. All behind him, chasing him.

Steve ran faster.

And then he fell.

A tendril, shriveled and solid, dead and twisted like a comically placed tree root right in his path sent Steve sprawling onto his hands and knees, nail bat flying to his left.

The wings got closer, and the Demobats dropped to the ground. They surrounded him, hobbling closer on wings and tentacles, segmented mouths snapping when Steve tried to reach his bat. There were more in the air, he could hear them. They were calling. Calling for the something that called them to action.

Membrane covered branches broke with wet snaps and the underbrush squelched as the Something got closer and closer.

A flash of huge leathery wings and needle sharp teeth set in a too wide mouth through the dark and the thought of 'I really hope if I live this doesn't give me another concussion' was all Steve got before he was pinned to the ground, hand still reaching for his bat and eyes squeezed closed.

But, nothing happened. The claws digging into his shoulders didn't let up, but the Something didn't move. Steve could hear the Demobats rustling. They sounded annoyed, or confused. But none of them were flying anymore. Then something happened, because the Something was no longer dripping saliva onto Steve's neck.

So, he opened his eyes. And looked straight into the eyes of someone he was so sure had died, far more human looking, a month prior.

Eddie. Eddie. With shoes long gone, Hellfire shirt torn to shreds, covered in what was probably his own dried blood. With wings and claws and a mouth that was closing at the seams to a more normal width than before around too sharp and too white teeth. With big doe eyes and curls matted and dirty. Eddie was pinning Steve to the ground.

Steve stared for a good few seconds, and Eddie stared back before seeming to realize what he was doing and sit back on Steve's legs.

"Thank fuck you're here. I can't find my baby and I'm losing my calluses! See?" He shoved his clawed fingers into Steve's face, "Oh, well I guess your probably can't... there's a lotta dirt. And blood. Well, I don't really think it's actually blood? Do the things here bleed?"

[miss0atae]

Random thoughts about Pit Babe the series Ep 9:

This episode was packed with many information and twists. I'm never bored when I watch this series.

▪️ First of all, let's talk about Babe. I felt for him so much in this episode. The betrayal he had to feel when he learnt about Way being the Enigma, hiding his work for Tony and basically lying from the very beginning. Babe really saw Way as his best and most trusted friend. It was hard to watch. I have to admit, I never watched Pavel in another series before, but I admit he really know how to cry. He do it beautifully. It's weird to say it this way, but I hope it's understandable. It must be really hard when you can't trust anyone. I'm sad for Babe. He quoted all the people who betrayed him and Charlie is quite lucky that he didn't say his name. Even if I like them together and think they are a cute couple, Charlie took his sweet time to tell the truth to Babe. Thankfully, Babe really loves him and I don't doubt that Charlie loves him back but he hasn't been trustful from the beginning either.

▪️ Charlie had many opportunities to use Babe's gift in this episode. I like how he was the one who had to deal with the consequences before the race. He can now fully understand what Babe was living before. I also found that so sweet how Babe came to me and was so lovable with him. I appreciate all the fluff and domestic vibes they have together. However, I wish Charlie was better at learning from his past mistakes. He told Babe he would tell him the truth but he is still hiding things from him. I wanna talk about when Jeff told him about his vision and they made a plan together but they haven't told anyone else about it. It's again going to break Babe's heart and as much as I find Pavel pretty when he is crying, I think Babe had enough sorrow. He doesn't need to cry more.

▪️ Jeff and Alan... We got robbed again! Yes, they had their little cute moment and it seems that Alan understand now that he has feeling for Jeff (thanks to the love matchmakers that are Sonic and North, they may be bad at rescuing people but at least they are better at being love gurus). I melted a little bit when Jeff called himself "Alan's boy". I thought they would kiss right at that moment... but no! It's frustrating! You like each other, time to have some action.

▪️ I understand now why Pete called Kenta, Ken. It's because he is "buying/saving" all those kids. They may have met this way. It is not said in the series but I haven't found a better explanation. Babe learnt from him that he is actively trying to convict Tony. He also knows him (it seems almost every character is Tony's son now which hilarious) and is the second Enigma. I hope he'll succeeded in his mission but also that he will save Way.

▪️ Now, we need to say something about Way... Of course, he was the second Enigma and he also tried to sexually assaulted Babe. I never liked him but for the first time I felt pity for him. What he did was terrible and there is no excuses. However, I feel like he has a lot of self-loathing. He was threatened by Tony. Way is afraid of him and when you're living in such bad environment it's hard to act rightly. We also learnt that he was homeless before Tony took care of him. I don't know what is going to be his redemption arc but I hope he'll get it. He seems so miserable. Tony is just so toxic. I felt like it was a miracle that Babe, Charlie, Pete or Jeff are not more f****d up in the head because of it. I don't know, I feel like Way could have turned differently.

▪️ We got nothing from Kenta or Kim and I'm starting to think that it is not meant to be. Also, what is Kenta's deal?! He seems to not really be on board with what Tony is doing but at the same time he is doing his work. I need answers!

▪️ Dean is also back in the team? Can we really trust him? I'm not sure. Especially after seeing the trailer.

▪️ By the way, why is Charlie always loosing?! He got special ability and he was trained by Babe. You need to do better Charlie! I wish he won this race. I'm stressed now with what I saw on the trailer.

I can't wait to be next Friday.

[sysmedsaresexist]

QUESTION!!! what’s your favorite fish :3

Oh, wow, that's so hard to answer

Let's start with the fish I have, I'm not sure I have a favorite, so much as there are fish that I would absolutely recommend and/or buy myself again

Goldfish - super intelligent, unpredictable murder machines 7/10, what am I even supposed to do with this creature

Gold Dust Mollies - stressed like me, hide a lot, we didn't run their bubbler for two weeks because we were waiting for a hookup to run the starter baby tank and the bubbler at the same time, it came, I turned on the bubbler, and traumatized them for over a month, not sure how my partner puts up with me. Also, live births. 3/10, master level fish, harder than they seem at first glance, worth it if you put in the time

Zebra Danios (short fin) - so speedy fast, racing all the time, so many wiggles, Java moss is a must, watch them wiggle wiggle wiggle so fast, interactive, not as pretty as some other fish, but their little front fins make me happy, lays eggs, 9/10, highly recommend

Cardinal Tetras - calm little puppies, very colorful, low maintenance, their little mouths, and when they look at you from the front, such silly little eyes, kind of boring though, lays eggs, 8/10, highly recommend

Corydora - give me a tank with just 100 of these, love them, adorable, so fast, they breathe air so they go racing to the top, and they're so fast they make a bloop, and then go racing back down. They flirt by vibrating at each other. Lays eggs. 10/10 for constant amusement, 6/10 for difficulty, they poison themselves when stressed, good luck getting them home in one piece, my recommendation: buy at least 3 at once (MUST have at least 6 for a healthy group, when I say 3, I mean your replacements after you fuck up the first time, buy only 1 or 2 and you're almost guaranteed to lose them as well, just hold off and wait until you need 3, even if your group size is 4 or 5), either have the fish store wrap their bag in dark paper towel, or bring one yourself.

Also, they blink, and it's creepy, this knocks another two points off, 4/10, advanced fish

Fun story, they sit very cutely on anything, and i pulled out my phone to take a video, and after several minutes, it stopped being cute and started being worrying, and then...

PLECO! We have 2, a female albino bushy nose, named Happy Andy, and a miserable male clown named Angry Gary. Don't look online to see what they're going to be like. No pleco is like another, and you literally have no idea what you're going to get until it's in your tank and settled. There's a 90% chance you'll never see your pleco. You will always worry about whether it's alive. If it's a tank of just small fish, he is, I promise, leave it alone. When you do see them, it'll make your heart very happy. They poop. A lot. I can't state that enough. 7/10, would still recommend.

Betta - hardy, a classic, gorgeous, save them from the cups. You can only have 1 in a tank. No, don't get the little 3 tanks together separated by glass, they can smell and see each other and it's stressful for them. Please don't give them less than a 10 gallon ): you most likely can't keep anything with them, but you can increase your chances of a peaceful community tank by putting in your peaceful fish first, and then adding the betta. Remember to only keep very FAST fish with your betta, like tetras. Super easy to care for, but will give you a lot of stress for no reason. 8/10, they lose a point for such limited tank mates. Highly recommend.

Mystery guppy - magically appeared in my male betta tank, will update when I figure out what it is. 7/10 mystery baby experience. I'm enjoying myself.

Now, the fish I WANT

I can really only go by other lists, so I think, right now, the fish I'm obsessed with is the boeseman's rainbowfish.

They get about 10cm, and you need at least 6 of them, so you need a big boy tank for sure. They're apparently quite hardy, peaceful, and longlived (8 years, if you're lucky!!). Their mouth is small, so they can be kept with a variety of tank mates. They're apparently really interesting to watch swim, because they school.

I think that'll be my next goal.

Share your favorite fish with me!!

[batsplat]

do you watch current moto2 and moto3? and what riders are you keeping your eye on if so?

I sure do! not to be too rude to the premier class, but I kinda have to if I'm interested in seeing some actual 'racing' now and again these days. don't always watch them live, especially now that we've gotten to the flyaways, but I do at least try not to get spoilers before I actually watch them (not always successfully)

in moto3, I've grown fond of veijer - seems like a smart kid, comes across as quite a cerebral rider... had a tricky run of form of late but really I'm just interested to see what happens when he moves to bikes that should (hopefully) suit his frame better. obviously he'll be moving up next year, so we'll see how he gets on... I did really enjoy the piqueras performance from a while back, incredible mix of boneheaded and brilliant from a rider who just refused to lose on the day, very compelling to watch. as a rule ofc it's worth not to get too invested in the prospects of moto3 hopefuls, given that the switch to moto2 can be the killer... I mean, in terms of who I'm keeping an eye on, obviously alonso is the one to pay attention to. he's been a bit too good and too nice this year to be particularly interesting, so I can't say I'm all that invested as yet. missing in the sturm and drang department, seems like quite a happy-go-lucky kid... but the racing is fun to watch, the race craft is ridiculously good and hopefully he's a little less boring when he gets pushed more. has made the moto3 title fight pretty meh this year it has to be said

in moto2, I have a long standing fondness for alonso lopez, who kinda sucks but in an endearing way. still can't really preserve his tyres, is relentlessly aggressive, massively frustrating... but what's the point in rooting for someone who doesn't frequently frustrate you! idk if he'll ever hit good enough form at the right time to make the move up to motogp, his chances aren't great given his nationality but ah well. I'm not a massive ogura fan but I still have some residual fondness for that title fight nobody wanted to win in 2022, can't ever not root for a bottler. plus his refusal to ride for honda in motogp has been really funny, definitely enjoyed how he's managed to get himself a non-honda seat on the grid. also have to say, sergio garcia's really grown on me this year, first because of how good a job he was doing and now just feeling desperately sorry for how wrong things have gone for him. really hope he can regroup and fight for the title next year, get the chance of a seat in the premier class... might have been a sliding doors moment though, timing just a little off - it's brutal. oh and well, we'll have to see how the aldeguer situation turns out, unsurprisingly I'm now way more invested in him after he's flopped for most of the season lol. probably not quite got that acosta juice to him, but I do still reckon he'll turn out to be a fair bit better than this current moto2 season is making him look

but yeah, in general, I do really enjoy watching the races! mostly as a neutral, though it's fun to watch if you've chosen one or two guys to back in each class so that when they crash you can mute the feed in a fit of pique for a minute and mutter under your breath about how they've been robbed... you know, as you do

[gayf1hoe]

Part 6

“MoneyGram Haas F1 Driver Y/N L/N to join Red Bull Racing next season replacing Sergio Perez”

I still can't believe this is real. A few weeks ago my career looked dead and all things were pointing at me joining Williams which would have been suicide given the way they are performing this year. But, out of the blue one day during the week off I got a phone call from my manager saying that Christian Horner had asked to speak to me and within the first 5 minutes of us talking he offered me a Red Bull seat for next year. He said that he had been impressed with my efforts at Haas and that I was the ideal candidate which I'm sure it is a massive blow for drivers like Yuki, Liam and Danny but it wasn't my decision and I can't say I'm annoyed that they picked me, but can already tell there might be some jealousy.

The second it was announced my phone began blowing up with messages and calls from everyone. I am a bit nervous about driving with Max, but I won't be intimidated and as George Russell once said “I'm not going to wave him by because he's Max Verstappen in a Red Bull”.

We are here in Monaco after the Miami Grand Prix where I got P8 and Carlos P11 and Imola where I secured P6 and Carlos P9. The team have brought some major upgrades to Monaco including a new front wing design, a new rear wing and a supposedly stronger monocoque.

“Y/N how is the car?”

“Down force is good but this car is just too big for this circuit”

For many years as Formula 1 has developed there has been much questioning as to whether Monaco should still be on the calendar as the cars have gotten bigger and the track has pretty much remained the same size since the 1950s, a safety car or Red flag is always a possibility here at any point.

In the engineering meeting before Quali there is the usual tense atmosphere but I keep getting distracted by Carlos who keeps messaging me. We have sort of made up and he's only texting me things like:

“This is so boring”

“I can't wait for this to end”

We are on speaking terms but we are nowhere near besties, if anything I'm just keeping my head down for the next 14 races and never looking back at my time at Haas and maybe finally I can save money by stopping the therapy meetings I have had to attend for stress.

There are many reasons as to why I'm sad and happy to leave the team and as I'm sat in the car I look around and see all the engineers that I have got to know so well over my F1 career and realise that I am on my last few races with them. Alex of course gives me the usual fist bump and warm smile. When he found out I was leaving he was the one who was most upset and he promised to try and get a job at Red Bull.

But as I become too transfixed on his light blue eyes I am quickly snapped out of my thoughts:

“Green Light, the car is ready to go”

We wait a few minutes before going out and by this time there's so much traffic on the track and during my first flying lap I encounter a sleeping George just sitting on the track in the way which impedes me and means my lap is only good enough for P16.

“Yep, fucking George was just sitting on the track not looking behind him, that should be a penalty”

“Yep copied we are reporting it"

Thankfully on my second run I didn't encounter a sleeping Brit on the track and my second flying lap put me in P4 seeing me through to Q2. In the interval between Q1 and Q2 we make a few setting alterations and the mechanics do a little dance routine to the songs that are playing in the garage to keep me entertained.

I only manage to pass the pit exit line when I hear:

“Red Flag, Red Flag, Verstappen has had a shunt”

As I pass Max I pray that this isn't a sign as to what my future at the team will be like and if it is I would like to scrap my contract now.

Both me and Carlos make it through to Q3 without much pushing of the car, and with Max out of the session everyone feels a lot calmer. By the end of the session I qualify P3 and Carlos P5 which is probably the closest we have been together on the starting grid all season. Normally one of us is towards the front (normally me) and the other is to the back of the grid.

Me and Carlos agree to go for drinks after qualifying and as we have been seen together in public a lot recently it put people's minds at rest that we don't hate each other despite the accurate rumours that have somehow made their way to the media.

The bar is relatively quiet as you have to be a member to get into and after a while of talking Carlos changes the entire tone of the conversation.

“I have something to say”

“Sure, go ahead”

“Me and lando have started speaking again”

He looks at me as if he's expecting me to have some sort of reaction to it.

“That's great, why are you telling me though?”

“Well I didn't want things to be awkward and for you to be confused if you randomly saw us talking ”

“Whatever you do is your business”

“So are you talking to anyone?”

“No,” I reply.

It's probably the biggest lie I have ever told, I don't really want to tell him I'm seeing a Formula E driver. I just don't see how it's any of his business and I know he told me he's speaking to Lando but I really couldn't care less.

After a while of speaking we head back to our hotel rooms and I rest my phone against the wall as I take a seat at the desk and start a FaceTime call.

It doesn't take long for him to pick up.

“Hey Dan”

“Hi love you were awesome today”

I'm sure the last person people would expect me to be dating is Dan Ticktum. He's quite unpopular, many people say he has personality issues and is a bit of a dick but the people I have dated in the past all had one thing in common, they are dicks, it's just my type obviously which would explain why none of my relationships last.

“Thank you I didn't think you would watch”

“Of course I would watch you. I am meant to support you and plus you watch everything to do with Formula E so it's only fair”

We chat for hours talking about the last 2 days as we haven't been able to speak as we have been so busy. When I attended the Chinese E - Prix I wasn't aware that I would meet Dan and we would end up dating, he came to the Italian Grand Prix after we started dating and he said he enjoyed watching me race but he was also pissed off he never made it to F1 but I assured him that he shouldn't discount himself and to keep on pushing.

I eventually clamber into the bed after coming out of the bathroom from my shower and find a random TV show that I don't even get to watch as I fall asleep as soon as it starts.

In the morning I am awoken by my assistant knocking on the door with my outfit for today that I had sent down to be dry cleaned. The early wake up call isn't something I'm majorly overjoyed by and my groan of annoyance makes it obvious. There's an engineering meeting in 1 hour so I have to rush to the track but as the F2 feature race is taking place the paddock is overwhelmed by a tumultuous sea of people.

“So we have the engineering meeting, some fan engagement and interviews and the race” my assistant informs me.

I take my seat in the engineering room next to my engineer and some other team personnel and don the headset which connects us to specialists back in the factory. To make things much more worse Gene is here and as he owns the team me and Carlos have been told to be on our best behaviour.

“Y/N and Carlos do you have any concerns or questions about this weekend?” The racing director voices.

“If me and Carlos end up next to each other and we are trying to attack the car in front will there be a driver swap or is it just race until you overtake” I ask knowing full well I won't be participating in any driver swap.

“Well we of course will make that decision based on who has the better pace and what position we are fighting for”

I collect my cap and head out the back into the fan area where Haas has invited some fans and given them special access, so me and Carlos spend some time talking with them and signing some stuff all whilst the sound of the F2 cars engines dominate the air.

Monaco has always brought out a lot of pageantry with hundreds of celebrities and fans on the track as we start preparing for one of the most esteemed races in motorsports. I have a lovely view of George (who didn't get a penalty for impeding me in quali) and Lewis, the ex-teammates, in front of me in P1 and P2 and Checo who is in P4 next to me.

“Radio Check”

“It's really hot in here”

“Yep, loud and clear Y/N” my engineer replies.

“A quick compound run down everyone has gone hard apart from Ocon, Tsundoa and Verstappen who have gone soft”

“Thank you for that very precise information, it's greatly appreciated ” I reply with a very strong suggestive undertone.

My eyes dart to the 5 Red lights after the formation lap, concentrating on getting the best start I can.

I get off the line well whereas George encounters some wheel-spin that enables me to pass him. And all is going well until turn 3…

“Red Flag, Ocon and Gasly have shunted they have also collected Zhou with them”

“Copied. Are they all OK?”

“Yep all are fine”

In the pit lane we essentially get a free pit stop and Monaco is the track where you can make the tyres last as you aren't pushing flat out at any point really so your tires can last pretty much for the entire race.

“Y/N just to let you know the restart will be the grid order you started in so we are back down to P3”

“Yep regards to the FIA for making things harder for me”

It's just my luck to make up a place in Monaco and be denied that place after a red flag. It's like the FIA are working against me, but It's not like I've tried to be nice to them or make them like me.

On the restart both Lewis and George have a good start and I can't get ahead of them but I see Carlos coming into my mirror and I have no intention of letting him pass. My engineer must notice as he randomly starts talking in the middle of the turn which is a big no.

“Y/N we want to conserve tyres we are looking at Plan C”

Plan C is running the tires to the end of the race without stopping.

Lap 55 and I'm in second and I have a 12 second gap to Carlos behind and a 0.4 gap to George ahead, Lewis had to retire due to a hydraulic failure. I attempt to overtake George as we approach the Nouvelle Chicane but he defends aggressively and my front right tyre comes off.

“I have a puncture guys”

“Copy, box, box”

Me and George both pit but my stop is quicker as he has to replace his front wing and thankfully there was a massive gap between Carlos and Checo behind and I came out in between the two.

“Y/N we are thinking of boxing Carlos if he pits you will have to give back the space.”

“We didn't discuss that in the meeting”

“We said it would change depending on the situation”

Carlos boxes making me the race leader and having Checo trailing behind me. When Carlos exits the pits he makes numerous attempts to overtake Checo and on much newer tires it's not much of a challenge for him.

“Y/N we have 15 Laps to go. Please return the position”

“Why?” I ask.

“It's would be best for the team if you give back the position”

“You want me to do what's best for the team that screwed me over”

“Y/N I am trying to protect you”

I don't listen and continue to push on. Increasing the gap to 3.1 seconds.

10 Laps to go: “Y/N we need to do it now, if there is a safety car things are going to get really awkward”

8 Laps to go: “The way to do well in this sport is not by yourself it's by playing the team game, please let Carlos by”

4 Laps to go: “Y/N you have proved your point just let him by”

On the last lap I am sick of hearing the constant yapping of my engineer and concede to their demands and let Carlos by at the Nouvelle Chicane, incredibly pissed.

“Yep don't say anything to me or I could be liable to say something I will regret”

As we cross the line the team are hanging over the pit wall cheering both of us on and whilst Carlos drives close to the wall like most drivers do I go to the complete opposite side. Many could argue I'm being petty but willingly letting someone else pass you to win goes against every racer's natural instinct.

“P2, P2 good job”

“Yeah whatever”

I step out the car and head over to the FIA weighing scales and Valtteri comes over to me and says I did the right thing but it doesn't feel like it, because unlike when Valtteri had to follow team orders he was at the top of the standings any way whereas I'm in a mid tier team where every point for me is showing my potential to bigger teams, but I'm off to Red Bull so it doesn't really matter in that sense but my ego is saying otherwise.

In the cool down room I take a seat and watch the race replay making small talk with Checo.

“You were really fast today” Checo comments.

“Thanks you were flying at the restart though” I retort.

After watching the incident between me and George it's clear we are both partly to blame so I hold no bad blood against him.

At the conclusion of the podium ceremony I head over to the reporter who I have been told I must speak to:

Reporter: So good result for the team the first 1-2 in the team's history, how does it feel?

Y/N: It feels pretty good for the team we have somehow gone from being a back marker to being in the fight for a top midfield position.

Reporter: Now the question we are all asking is how has Haas, previously a back marker notorious for having an unreliable car with bad pace, managed to secure such good results this year?

Y/N: It's been a lot of hard work and even this year we have had our struggles, in Imola and Miami we had pace issues and only managed to get a few points which wasn't what we wanted. We have been constantly developing the car and talking with specialist departments. And it has been difficult to improve whilst staying within the FIA cost cap but we have somehow managed to stay on track.

Reporter: Now I'm sure you know what's coming next. The team orders. Do you feel it was unfair to give the position to Carlos?

Y/N: At the end of the day it's racing. I don't see why I should just give up the places just because he's my teammate. The team didn't need to pit Carlos but they wanted to get the fastest lap point as well. In my opinion the team got a little bit greedy for points and that's what caused the conflict. But the team obviously wanted Carlos to get his first win with the team and move him up in the standings.

Reporter: Many people have said your attitude over the race sounds a lot like the way Dan Ticktum in Formula E talks. Now you have seen a lot with him so has he influenced your attitude? And what's your relationship there?

Y/N: Well yes we have spent quite a lot of time with each other but I would say he's explicitly influenced the way I talk or act. In terms of our relationship we are just good friends, we have known each other for 4 weeks and have gone out a lot together and got to know each other very well.

Reporter: Some people would call that dating. Do you disagree?

Y/N: Everyone has their own interpretation.

As usual at the end of the race we have the debrief meeting, some race weekends we do it the next day it just depends on the time the race finishes but as the race has finished in the afternoon we get the joy of sitting through a debrief.

Walking into the room there is a load of data on the screens and Gene is standing at the front with Guenther. After everyone arrives he does a massive speech about how well we have done and made changes from last year and how good it is for Carlos to achieve his maiden win with the team.

“I can't believe they didn't even acknowledge the fact Carlos wouldn't have won if you didn't give the position back” Alex says in a whisper.

At the conclusion of the meeting Guenther asks me to stand behind, I get deja vu from being at school when I would have to stay behind from class more than likely because I fell asleep after being up all night travelling back from a karting race.

“Look I appreciate you eventually following the order but you can't do that again. It's overshadowed Carlos’ first win and with all due you respect you acted like a child”

“I think you forget Guenther I turned down a Sauber offer that would have seen me go to Audi when they join. I turned that down because you practically begged me to stay. I stayed with the team even after a crazy Russian driver drove into me on track and his mad father who was practically threatening to set half the fucking Kremlin officials on me for outperforming his son and you stood by and did nothing because he was the main investor if you had come to me I would have told him to “fuck off” for you. So please don't lecture me about being mature and doing what's best for the team when I have always put this team first despite it giving me nothing in return apart from a very expensive therapist bill, probably being on some Russians's hit list, and a contract termination ”

As I'm packing my bag with my stuff Carlos enters my room holding my folder that I must have left in the garage. Genuther has gone mad at me for losing that thing before as it contains lots of documents about the car, the team and other confidential stuff we don't want other teams getting a hold of.

“Ah thanks you're a lifesaver” I say reaching to grab the folder from his hands, but he retracts his arm.

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Dan Ticktum were dating?” he asks.

I again go to reach for the folder and he moves his arm further back.

“I just didn't see how it's any of your business and before you say that you told me about Lando, I never asked.”

“That's not the reason, it's something different than that.”

“There really no other reason Carlos you are just paranoid”

“There's no reason someone like you would date Dan Ticktum”

“What's that supposed to mean?” I say, raising my voice slightly.

“He's a dickhead who's going to break your heart and you know it, if you want attention you could at least date someone who cares about you at least. Fuck, even Alex would love you more than Dan”

“Carlos just leave”

“Fine but don't say I didn't warn you”

Guenther’s talk and Carlos’ rant has pissed me off so I head back to my hotel and make a few calls to get out of here. We have another week's break before Spain and I intend to just spend it at home. I eventually manage to arrange a flight with the charter company that is sponsoring Haas and make my way to Nice to the private airport.

Before I leave George manages to catch up with me and evidently Carlos has spoken to him by the trajectory of the conversation where he is evidently hinting at something but is too scared to say it outright.

“Are you heading back already?”

“Yeah I just need to spend some time at home”

“Are you OK?” he questions.

“Yes I'm fine” I reply bluntly.

“So you and Dan huh?”

“George, what do you want? All these small talk questions really aren't amusing me?”

“I just want to check you're fine and doing the right thing with Dan?”

“George I am fine and I don't know if I'm doing the right thing with Dan but I'm an adult and I will learn from my mistakes if it isn't right. Now if you don't mind I have to catch a flight”

I was hoping to join a team that would have meant I didn't have to spend so much time in England because the weather is as Bipolar as me. But being with Red Bull means that's not happening.

I feel a sense of relief opening my apartment door that has become kind of stiff to open, elucidating how little time I have to come home.

There is a mountain of junk mail on the floor despite the very clear sign on the door saying no junk mail but apparently the people who work for the post office in the UK can’t read, and my assistant here promised to come by and check my mail but obviously she has been slacking but I don’t really care it's not like anything important comes by post anymore.

It's only early morning so I head straight to bed and the pattering of rain starts hitting the window.

“Great” I sigh, turning over.

I have no idea what I'm going to be doing whilst I'm here but I know I have some legal meetings with Red Bull and Haas regarding contracts which will be a lot of fun. Just kidding, it will be hours of banal meetings listening to tedious talks, from tedious people about tedious things.

I drag myself from my bed and decide to go for a run which is out of character for me but there is nothing more freeing than a run in the rain. I turn my headphones on and started playing a random saved playlist on Spotify. I live really near Silverstone like a 20 minute walk or a 15 minute run at my incredibly slow running pace . As I run past the track I can see some of the grandstands and other features that have been set up for the Grand Prix in a few weeks time.

During my run I happen to spot the same car drive by me 3 or 4 times as I run along one of the main roads but I don't think much of it as it isn't easy to get lost around here so I assume they are just looking for their destination and even when I start heading back home and see the same car I don't think much of it.

As I walk up to my apartment I see my door open and as much as in this situation I'm sure I should turn around and call the police I enter the apartment with the utmost caution. It's empty and nothing has been taken. Not that there's anything to take as all my valuable possessions which are literally my trophies and helmets are stored in a secure unit.

There is a single note on the kitchen side and it says….