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jungwnies · 25 days ago

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F1 GRID | somewhere along the way, friendship fades

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : childhood best friends drift apart, their connection fading with time. and years later, meeting again.

୨ৎ : genre : angst, sad themes ୨ৎ : tws : arguing ୨ৎ : word count : 3499

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i was watching "our little secret" on netflix and i got inspired to do this :c def a 10/10 watch

ʚ・max verstappen

the smell of burnt rubber and stroopwafels defined your childhood. growing up as the daughter of one of the engineers, your playground was the karting track, and your partner in crime was max, who seemed to never catch a break. scraped knees, stolen frites, and endless races—it was always a competition. and even though he was faster, you never let him win easily.

“you’re getting slow,” you’d tease when he’d lap you, and he’d fire back, “or maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.”

but childhood doesn’t last forever. as max’s talent propelled him forward, your worlds began to split. he moved to monaco, chasing the formula 1 dream, while you stayed home, building a life far from the roar of engines.

the breaking point came during one of his rare calls. you told him about getting into university, excitement bubbling through the phone.

“that’s great,” he said, but his voice was distant. “i’ve got a strategy meeting. i’ll call you later, okay?”

“but max—”

the line went dead before you could finish.

you never called back. neither did he. the silence was deafening, only broken by headlines about his victories.

years passed. you built your career, surrounded yourself with people who cared about you. still, there was always that quiet ache, a max-shaped hole you couldn’t quite fill.

...

fate intervened in monaco, of all places. a work trip brought you to the grand prix weekend, and there he was—older, sharper, surrounded by reporters. the boy you knew had grown into a man, but the familiar intensity in his blue eyes was still there.

he spotted you, and for a moment, time rewound. “you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, smirking as he pulled you into a hug.

“you’re really here,” max said, his voice even but his eyes giving him away.

“don’t sound too surprised,” you replied, crossing your arms. “monaco isn’t exactly hard to find, and my dad forced me to accompany him.”

he huffed a laugh, scratching the back of his neck—a gesture you remembered all too well. “it’s just... been a while.”

“whose fault is that?” you shot back, eyebrow raised.

his grin faltered, replaced by something softer, more sincere. “mine,” he admitted, no hesitation. max had never been one to dance around the truth. “i messed up. i thought... if i focused on racing, everything else would just stay in place. but it didn’t. i didn’t.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the honesty. “and now?”

“now?” he shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “now i know better. or at least, i’m trying to.”

you rolled your eyes, but your chest felt lighter. “trying might actually suit you.”

“don’t push it,” he said, his grin returning. but his hand brushed yours, lingering just long enough to say what words couldn’t.

the two of you walked along the harbor, the chaos of the grand prix fading into the background. max talked about the weight of expectations, the need to prove himself, and you found yourself telling him things you hadn’t said aloud in years.

“you know,” he said eventually, glancing at you, “you were the first person to beat me. that’s why i kept coming back.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “don’t tell me i’m your origin story, verstappen.”

“i’m serious,” he said, his tone light but his gaze steady. “you pushed me. you still do.”

“and you still hate losing,” you replied, your smile widening.

“only to you,” he said, and for once, there was no teasing in his voice—just max, stripped of the bravado.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, you realized the years apart hadn’t erased what you meant to each other. instead, they’d made it clearer. and standing there with him, the boy who always chased the fastest lap and the man who’d finally stopped running, you felt like you’d found your way back home.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

the skate park beneath the london flyover, painted with graffiti and echoing with the rattle of skateboards, was where it all began. you and lewis—two kids with scraped knees and bigger dreams than you dared to say aloud. he was magnetic even then, always the showman, flipping tricks with effortless swagger while you rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh when he wiped out.

“you see that?” he’d grin, brushing off the dust like he hadn’t just landed flat on his back. “one day, everyone will.”

you’d shake your head, hiding your smile. “maybe if you stop showing off and stick the landing.”

those nights under london’s orange-tinted sky were your sanctuary. but dreams have a way of pulling people in different directions. lewis chased his at 200 mph, trading the skate park for circuits around the world. and you? you stayed grounded, carving out a life with your own quiet determination.

the drift wasn’t dramatic, just... inevitable. the calls came less often, the texts faded, and soon the only glimpses you had of him were on tv, his victories splashed across headlines. you were proud, of course, but it didn’t make the distance hurt any less.

years later, the rhythm of a jazz club in soho pulled you in. the smoky air, the hum of conversation—it felt like stepping into another world. and there he was, sitting in the corner, surrounded by friends, his laugh carrying over the music. he looked... different. calmer, more self-assured, the bravado softened into something real.

his eyes met yours across the room, and the recognition was instant. that signature grin spread across his face, and before you could overthink it, he was already walking toward you.

“it’s been a minute,” he said, his voice warm, familiar.

“a few laps around the world, at least,” you replied, crossing your arms but unable to stop your smile.

he introduced you to his friends—musicians, artists, people with the same kind of restless ambition he always had. the conversation flowed easily, stories and laughter filling the gaps left by the years. lewis talked about the weight of being at the top, his growing love for music, fashion, and using his platform for something bigger than himself.

“you’ve always been good at making noise,” you teased, and he laughed, that bright, unrestrained laugh you hadn’t heard in so long.

the night stretched into dawn, the city quieting as he walked you home. the streetlights cast long shadows, and for a moment, it felt like you were kids again, sneaking through the city after curfew.

“you were always my reminder,” he said suddenly, his voice low. “of where i came from. of what mattered before all of... this.” he gestured vaguely, as if the world he now lived in was too vast to put into words.

“and you were always proof,” you replied softly, “that even the wildest dreams aren’t out of reach.”

standing on your doorstep, the first light of morning brushing the horizon, it hit you—this wasn’t just a chance meeting. this was a reconnection, built on the foundation of a shared past and the people you’d become in the years since.

“don’t disappear again,” you said, half a command, half a plea.

“not a chance,” he replied, that grin softening into something more serious. “i’ve got too much catching up to do.”

as he walked away, the city waking around you, you felt it: the bond you’d thought you’d lost was still there, stronger for the time apart. and maybe, just maybe, this was the start of a new chapter you hadn’t seen coming.

ʚ・george russell

the beach at brancaster felt like a time capsule—same crashing waves, same salty breeze, but now heavy with memories you couldn’t quite shake. summers here used to be everything. you and george, running barefoot through the sand, laughing until your sides ached, dreaming of futures too big for this sleepy little town. he was the dreamer, always looking ahead, while you stayed grounded, the one to remind him where he came from.

but dreams pulled him away. karting turned into formula 1, and suddenly, the boy you shared chips and inside jokes with was a name on TV, surrounded by lights and cameras. the texts slowed, then stopped. he didn’t say goodbye—you weren’t sure if that made it better or worse.

years later, you came back. the town had changed, but the beach hadn’t, and neither had the ache you felt when you saw him standing there, surfboard in hand, staring at the water like it might hold answers.

“you’re here,” he said, voice softer than you remembered.

“so are you,” you replied, trying to sound casual when your heart was doing backflips.

the conversation was awkward at first, years of silence sitting heavy between you. but as the sun dipped low, you found yourself talking like you used to—about life, dreams, and all the things you didn’t say before.

“i messed up,” george admitted finally, staring at the horizon. “i thought chasing my dream meant letting go of everything else. but i never stopped missing you.”

you wanted to be angry, to tell him how much it hurt, but instead, you just sighed. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

and maybe it was. because as the tide rolled in, washing away the old scars, it felt like a new beginning—not perfect, but something worth holding onto.

ʚ・carlos sainz

the spanish sun blazed down on the dusty karting track, heat shimmering off the asphalt. carlos was already revving his engine, leaning out of his kart with that trademark grin—the kind that got him out of trouble more times than you could count. "you ready, or are you still fussing over those tires?" he teased, voice playful but competitive.

"some of us like to win without excuses," you shot back, trying to mask your smile.

that was always the dynamic: his fiery, carefree confidence against your calculated focus. you made each other better, but more than that, you were each other's constant—until you weren't.

his talent took him places you couldn't follow. as carlos climbed higher, from karting circuits to formula 1, the calls came less, the visits stopped. he’d always promised, "don’t worry, we’ll figure it out," but the silence between you became louder than any excuse he could give. you told yourself it was fine, that this was just what growing up looked like. but it still hurt—a kind of quiet ache that settled in your chest every time his name flashed on a headline instead of your phone.

years later, you found yourself at a grand prix—not for him, not really, but you couldn’t stay away. the roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber—it all brought you back to those summers when life was simpler, when the world was just the two of you and a dusty track.

after the race, you wandered near the paddock, unsure if you wanted to see him. but before you could decide, you heard his voice: "¡tú! no puede ser…" (you! no way…)

you froze as carlos jogged toward you, his face lighting up in a way that made your chest tighten. "what are you doing here?" he asked, pulling you into a hug before you could respond.

"just watching the race," you said, trying to sound casual. "looks like you’ve gotten a bit better since karting."

he laughed, running a hand through his hair. "and you’re still a pain in my ass, huh?"

you fell into step beside him, talking as if the years hadn’t stretched so far between you. he opened up in a way you didn’t expect—about the pressure, the loneliness, the weight of expectations he never asked for. "sometimes, i miss the old days," he admitted quietly. "it wasn’t perfect, but… it felt real."

"it was real," you said softly, meeting his gaze.

the night slipped by as you talked about everything and nothing, the gap between who you were and who you’d become slowly closing. as the paddock emptied out, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

"i let you down," he said, voice low. "i got so caught up in everything… i didn’t mean to lose you."

you sighed, the bitterness you’d held onto finally starting to loosen. "i let you go, too," you admitted. "but maybe we’re both here for a reason."

a smile broke through his guilt. "then let’s not waste it," he said, his hand brushing yours as if testing the waters.

and just like that, it felt like the beginning of something new—different, but maybe even better. under the dim glow of the paddock lights, with the distant hum of the city, you let yourself believe in second chances.

ʚ・charles leclerc

the monaco grand prix had always been your thing. after every race, you and charles would sneak onto the track, the echo of engines still ringing in your ears. he’d climb the barriers, striking a dramatic pose like he’d just won. “take a picture! i need proof for when it’s real,” he’d say, grinning as you rolled your eyes but clicked the photo anyway.

back then, it was simple—just the two of you, two dreamers chasing something bigger. he was the wild one, always pushing limits, and you? the voice of reason, his constant tether. but as the karting trophies turned into f3 contracts, things shifted. the calls became shorter, the silences longer.

“you don’t understand!” he snapped one night, frustration simmering in his voice. “this is my life now. my future.”

“and we’re not part of that?” you shot back, fighting to keep your tone steady.

his face faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. but then came the stubbornness, the pride. “this is bigger than us,” he said quietly.

those words broke something between you. and the silence that followed stretched for years.

...

monaco hadn’t been in your plans this year, but your friends dragged you to the paddock. the glitz, the champagne—it all felt so distant from the memories you held of sneaking around with charles, pretending to be part of the action. and then, there he was. sharper, leaner, every inch the f1 star. but when his eyes locked on yours, the familiar spark was unmistakable.

“still sneaking into races?” his grin was crooked, teasing.

“you’re one to talk,” you quipped, unable to suppress a smile.

he muttered a quick excuse to his entourage, then turned back to you. “come on. let’s see if the harbor’s still our spot.”

as you walked, the years apart melted away. the easy rhythm returned—teasing, laughing, sharing the unspoken weight of the years. he opened up about the pressures, the loneliness. you admitted the regret, the what-ifs.

“i never stopped missing this,” he said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “missing you.”

“same,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “you were always...charles.”

“what does that mean?” he asked, a laugh escaping, but there was an edge of nervousness to it.

“it means you’re impossible. but you’re also...you.”

under the stars, by the water’s edge, the pieces fell back into place. his hand brushed against yours, tentative, before settling there. “so, is this where you tell me to stop being impossible?”

“never,” you said, smiling. “you wouldn’t be charles if you did.”

and for the first time in years, it felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

ʚ・lando norris

the fields of somerset were your world once, filled with the roar of go-kart engines and lando’s endless laughter. you two were inseparable—best friends with big dreams, racing not just for fun but for a future you both believed in.

“one day,” lando had said, his grin so wide it was almost ridiculous, “we’ll both be there, except i'll be on the track, and you'll be cheering me on."

“in your dreams, lando,” you shot back, playfully shoving him.

but then the dream started to come true, lando got faster, better, and soon, he was gone, swept up by the racing world. at first, he called after every race, sending photos and jokes to bridge the distance. but the calls became fewer, the texts shorter, until one day they stopped altogether.

“you’ll always be my mate,” he’d promised before he left. but you weren’t so sure anymore.

years passed. you moved on—or tried to. then, one day, you found yourself at silverstone, sitting in the grandstands as the engines roared to life. lando was on the grid, his helmet unmistakable. it felt strange, watching him from so far away, like a stranger instead of the boy you once knew.

after the race, you lingered near the paddock, unsure why you stayed. you didn’t even realize he was there until his voice cut through the noise.

“wait—wait! is that…?” lando stopped mid-step, his wide eyes locking on you. “no way!”

you tried to play it cool, shrugging. “just thought i’d check if you’re still slow.”

his laugh was instant, that same contagious laugh you hadn’t heard in years. “still cheeky, i see. c’mon, don’t just stand there.”

before you could protest, he dragged you into the paddock, his energy as chaotic as ever. it felt awkward at first—forced small talk, apologies buried under nervous jokes.

“i messed up, didn’t i?” he blurted suddenly, his grin fading. “i got caught up in… all of this. forgot what mattered.”

you looked at him, surprised. “yeah, you did. but… i guess i get it. it’s a lot to carry.”

“still,” he said softly, meeting your eyes. “i should’ve tried harder. you didn’t deserve that.”

you sighed, the tension in your chest easing slightly. “well, i’m here now, aren’t i? so stop being sappy and tell me how you survived that awful start.”

he laughed, a mix of relief and gratitude in his expression. “god, you're still an ass. don’t go disappearing again, yeah?”

“only if you don’t.” you snap back, with a cheeky smile.

as the night went on, the awkwardness gave way to something familiar—something that felt like home. and as you left the paddock, lando jogging beside you, stealing chips from your hand like nothing had changed, you realized it wasn’t too late to start over. the bond you thought was lost was still there, waiting for you both to remember how to hold on.

ʚ・oscar piastri

the family barbecue was meant to be casual—just a gathering of old friends and neighbors at the piastris’ home during the off-season. you hadn’t planned to go, but your parents insisted. “it’ll be nice,” they said, not knowing how wrong they were.

you spotted oscar almost immediately, standing by the grill with his dad. his posture was the same, hands stuffed in his pockets, but everything else felt different. gone was the boy you knew, replaced by someone who looked sharper, more distant—someone who belonged to a world you’d never been part of.

the last time you’d spoken was years ago, before his meteoric rise through motorsport. back then, you were the ones sharing data sheets, racing each other at karting events, and joking about who’d make it to formula 1 first. “we’ll always stick together,” he’d said, almost solemnly. but as the sponsorship deals rolled in and the calls stopped, you realized how naïve that promise had been.

you didn’t approach him right away. instead, you lingered by the drink table, hoping he wouldn’t notice you. but oscar was nothing if not observant.

“hey,” he said suddenly, appearing at your side. his voice was quieter than you remembered, less certain.

“hi.” you didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes fixed on your cup.

“i didn’t know you’d be here.” he sounded awkward, almost nervous, which was strange for someone who now handled press conferences with ease.

you shrugged. “didn’t really plan on it.”

a beat of silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. he shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. “look, i—i’m sorry. for everything.”

you finally turned to him, eyebrows raised. “for what? forgetting i existed?”

his face fell, and for a moment, he looked just like the boy you used to know—unsure, searching for the right words. “i didn’t mean to. things just… happened so fast. and i didn’t know how to balance it all.”

“you could’ve tried.” the words came out harsher than you intended, but you didn’t regret them.

he nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. “you’re right. i should have.”

another silence fell, this one softer, less suffocating.

“so,” you said eventually, crossing your arms. “what now? we pretend like nothing happened?”

he looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. “no. i don’t want that. i just… i’d like to fix this. if you’ll let me.”

you didn’t answer right away, letting the words hang in the air. but then you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “you’ve got a lot to make up for, oscar.”

his own smile broke through, hesitant but genuine. “i’ll start now then.”

and for the first time in years, you felt like maybe—just maybe—there was still a place for you in his world.

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imthebadguyyy · 5 months ago

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I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

pairing : f1 drivers x reader fandom : f1 synopsis : the grid is there to watch you flourish with a broken heart. warnings : angst and insane amounts of platonic fluff

I can read your mind, "she's having the time of her life", there in her glittering prime.

The press conference room was buzzing with excitement. Cameras flashed, microphones were adjusted, and reporters shuffled in their seats, eager to ask their questions. You sat at the table, the only female driver on the grid, proudly representing Mercedes. Beside you were Lewis Hamilton and George Russell, both offering reassuring smiles as they prepared for the barrage of questions.

The session began with the usual inquiries about strategies, car performance, and race predictions. You answered confidently, drawing on your experiences and expertise. The lights refracted sequined stars off your silhouette every night, making it seem like you were having the time of your life, there in your glittering prime.

But then, a reporter in the back stood up, his tone sharp and probing. "I can read your mind," he began, a smirk playing on his lips. "She's having the time of her life," he quoted, a mocking tone in his voice. "But given the recent incidents, do you think you're emotionally strong enough to handle the pressures of Formula 1, especially as a female driver? Some might say you're struggling to keep up."

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anger and hurt. How dare he question your strength, your dedication? You squared your shoulders, looking the reporter straight in the eye.

"I can show you lies," you said, your voice steady and strong. "One, two, three, four. You don't get to tell me about sad," you continued, your gaze unwavering. "I've faced challenges and pressures just like everyone else on this grid. My gender doesn't make me weaker or less capable. If anything, it makes me stronger."

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable. But then, Lewis leaned forward, his expression fierce. "We all face immense pressure in this sport," he said, his voice calm but firm. "And she's proven time and again that she belongs here. Her strength and resilience are unmatched."

George nodded in agreement. "She's one of the best drivers I've ever had the privilege to race alongside. Her gender has nothing to do with her capabilities. She's here on merit, just like the rest of us."

Sebastian Vettel, sitting a few seats down, chimed in as well. "Respect is crucial in this sport. We support each other, and we stand by her. She's earned her place on this grid, and nothing can take that away from her."

Valtteri Bottas added his voice to the mix. "We all have our struggles, but it's how we handle them that defines us. And she's handled everything with grace and determination."

Checo Perez, who was at the press conference as well, spoke up. "It's easy to criticize from the outside. But we know what it takes to be here, and she has it all. She's not just a great driver; she's an inspiration."

The support from your fellow drivers warmed your heart. You felt a surge of gratitude and pride. They saw you for who you were—a talented driver, a fierce competitor, and a valuable member of the F1 community.

The reporter, realizing he had crossed a line, shifted uncomfortably and mumbled an apology. The press conference moved on, but the impact of that moment stayed with you. It was a reminder of the solidarity and respect that existed among the drivers, a testament to the bond you shared.

After the press conference, as you walked back to the paddock, Lewis put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You're stronger than any of them know," he said with a smile.

You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. "Thanks, Lewis. And thanks to all of you," you said, looking around at your fellow drivers. "I couldn't do this without your support."

As you prepared for the next race, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had a team of incredible people standing by your side. And that made all the difference.

'cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit

The race had been intense, a whirlwind of speed and strategy. You pushed your Mercedes to its limits, navigating the twists and turns with precision and skill. As the only female driver on the grid, you had a point to prove, and today, you were doing just that.

But then, in the final laps, an incident occurred. Another driver made a reckless move, causing you to swerve and lose valuable time. Despite the setback, you fought your way back up, crossing the finish line in third place. The cheers from the crowd were deafening as you made your way to the podium, your heart pounding with a mix of triumph and exhaustion.

Standing on the podium, you felt a surge of pride. You had earned this. But as the ceremony began, an official approached, a somber look on his face. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but you've been given a penalty for the incident on the track. You've lost your podium place."

Your heart sank, but you quickly composed yourself. 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit, you reminded yourself. The decision was unfair, a blatant disregard for the fact that you were the victim of the incident. But instead of letting it break you, you chose to rise above it.

With a defiant smile, you raised your trophy high, celebrating as if nothing had happened. The crowd roared in approval, sensing your silent rebellion against the FIA. You waved to your fans, your expression one of unwavering confidence and determination. You were here to stay, and no unfair penalty could take that away from you.

Lewis Hamilton, standing beside you, exchanged a glance of admiration and support. He knew the situation was unjust, but he also knew you were strong enough to handle it. As you all sprayed champagne, the message was clear: you wouldn't let anyone diminish your achievements.

After the ceremony, as you walked back to the paddock, Lewis was waiting for you. He pulled you into a warm hug, holding you tightly. "You were incredible out there," he whispered, his voice full of warmth and pride. "I'm so proud of you."

You hugged him back, drawing strength from his support. "Thanks, Lewis. It means a lot coming from you."

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with genuine affection. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You've got the heart of a champion, and no unfair penalty can change that."

Oscar Piastri, who had finished second, gave you a nod of respect as he approached. "That was a tough break," he said quietly. "But you handled it with more class than most could."

You smiled at Oscar, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Oscar. It’s moments like these that show what we're made of."

As you walked away, Lewis kept his arm around your shoulders, a silent but powerful gesture of solidarity. "Remember," he said softly, "we're a team. And we're all here for you."

You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of confidence and camaraderie. "I know. And it makes all the difference."

As you prepared for the next race, you knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges. But with your resilience, the support of your team, and your unwavering determination, you were ready to face whatever came your way. And that made all the difference.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did

The season had been a rollercoaster, filled with highs and lows, but you had handled it with grace and determination. As the only female driver on the grid, you constantly faced scrutiny and doubt from the pundits who seemed to neglect your achievements. Every podium finish, every hard-fought point, was downplayed or overshadowed by your male counterparts.

Despite this, you kept your head high. One particular pundit, known for his sarcasm, had once sneered, "You just have to fake it 'til you make it, right?" His dismissive comment stung, but you channeled that frustration into every race, using it as fuel to prove your worth.

Then came the breakthrough. Four consecutive wins. It was a streak that left everyone in awe, and there was no denying your dominance on the track. Each victory was sweeter than the last, a testament to your skill and resilience. But what you relished most was the silence from the pundits who had so often dismissed you.

After your fourth straight win, you stood on the podium, the crowd roaring in approval. You soaked in the moment, knowing you had earned every bit of it. As you descended the podium, your eyes locked onto the group of pundits, including the one who had made that sarcastic remark.

With a confident stride, you walked straight up to them. The surprise on their faces was evident as you approached. You could feel the tension, the unspoken acknowledgment of your triumph hanging in the air.

"You remember that comment you made?" you asked, your voice clear and unwavering. "About faking it until you make it?" You let the words hang for a moment, letting the weight of your achievements settle in. "Well, I did just that. And look where it got me."

Lando Norris, standing nearby, gave you an encouraging nod, his eyes filled with pride. Carlos Sainz, too, offered a smile of respect and admiration. They had witnessed your journey, your struggles, and your victories, and they knew how much this moment meant.

The pundits, momentarily speechless, nodded in acknowledgment. You didn't need their praise or recognition anymore. You had shown the world what you were capable of, and that was enough.

As you walked away, you felt a surge of satisfaction and confidence. The road ahead would still have its challenges, but you knew you could face them with the same strength and grace that had brought you this far. And with every race, you would continue to prove that you belonged at the very top of the sport.

Lando joined you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You handled that perfectly," he said, his voice full of admiration.

Carlos came up on your other side, grinning. "They won't underestimate you again."

You smiled, feeling the camaraderie and support from your teammates. "Thanks, guys. It means a lot."

As you prepared for the next race, you knew that the future was bright. You had the talent, the determination, and the support to achieve anything you set your mind to.

lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die

The Monaco Grand Prix weekend was in full swing, and the glamorous event was bustling with high-profile guests, flashing cameras, and a sea of paparazzi. You, the only female driver on the grid, were attending a high-profile gala, and while the event was supposed to be a celebration, it quickly turned into a showcase of unwelcome comments.

You walked into the venue, dressed in a stunning outfit that was both elegant and bold. However, instead of admiring glances, you were met with snide remarks and superficial comments about your appearance. People were whispering about your body, your outfit, and your presence, making jabs and sarcastic remarks about your place in the spotlight.

“Lights, camera, bitch smile,” you thought to yourself, trying to maintain your composure. Even when you felt like the criticism was overwhelming, you knew you had to keep up a brave front.

Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton, who were both at the event, noticed the uncomfortable atmosphere surrounding you. They were determined to support you and stand by your side.

As you mingled through the crowd, a particularly obnoxious guest made a loud comment, “Nice outfit, but are you sure you’re not just here to be a pretty face?”

The remark stung, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you turned to the person with a sarcastic smile. “Oh, absolutely. I’m just here to make up the numbers. But hey, if looking good and putting up with this nonsense is part of the job, I guess I’m killing it.”

The crowd fell silent, taken aback by your sharp retort. Charles, standing nearby, stepped in with a smile that was equal parts supportive and mischievous. “You know, I think she’s doing a lot more than just looking good. It’s impressive how she handles this kind of stuff.”

Lewis, also by your side, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and I’ve seen her drive circles around the competition. I’d say she’s got more than enough talent to match that smile.”

The remarks were met with a stunned silence from the onlookers. The shift in tone was palpable, and the crowd seemed to recognize that they had crossed a line. You gave Charles and Lewis a grateful smile, appreciating their support.

As the night went on, you continued to navigate the event with a blend of poise and sarcasm. The comments faded into the background as you enjoyed the company of those who genuinely respected you.

Charles, as you were leaving the event, put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You handled that like a pro,” he said, his tone warm and sincere.

Lewis joined in, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You were amazing out there. Sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of sass to set things right.”

You smiled, feeling a renewed sense of confidence and camaraderie. “Thanks, guys. I’ve learned that sometimes, you just have to give as good as you get.”

As you left the gala, you knew that the road ahead would still have its challenges. But with the support of your friends and the strength you had shown, you felt ready to face whatever came your way.

im so depressed i act like it's my birthday everyday

The breakup had been brutal. Your boyfriend, a famous tennis player, had ended things in the most public and humiliating way possible. Since then, he’d been making snide comments about you in interviews, trying to tarnish your reputation. Despite the heartache, you continued to show up and perform on the F1 circuit, determined not to let his words break you.

"I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day," you thought bitterly, putting on a brave face for the cameras and the fans. The Monaco Grand Prix was approaching, and as always, the media was in a frenzy. You had a press conference lined up, and you knew that questions about your ex were inevitable.

You took your seat at the press conference, flanked by Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen. The room was buzzing with anticipation as the questions started to roll in. It wasn’t long before one of the reporters brought up your ex-boyfriend’s recent comments.

“Your ex has been quite vocal about your breakup, making some rather harsh remarks. How do you respond to that?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar sting of his words. But instead of letting it show, you decided to turn the tables with a sarcastic comment. “Well, he’s clearly got a lot of time on his hands now that he’s not busy winning matches. Maybe he should consider a career in stand-up comedy.”

The room erupted in a mix of gasps and chuckles. Before you could say more, Lewis jumped in, his expression serious. “He’s too stupid for his own good if he thinks he can undermine her. She’s shown more strength and class than he ever will.”

Charles nodded in agreement. “He let a gem slip out of his fingers. His loss is the racing world’s gain.”

Carlos added, his voice full of warmth, “She’s got more talent and heart than he could ever understand. We’re lucky to have her here.”

Max leaned into his mic, a rare smile on his face. “And let’s be honest, she’s the one who’s truly winning. Both on and off the track.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at their support. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

The bond between you all was palpable. The camaraderie and mutual respect you shared were evident, and the crowd could see it. The reporters seemed taken aback by the united front, realizing they wouldn’t get the reaction they’d hoped for.

As the press conference continued, the focus shifted back to racing, and you felt a sense of relief. You answered questions about your performance, your strategy for the upcoming race, and your goals for the season. With each answer, you felt stronger, more confident.

After the press conference, the guys surrounded you, offering words of encouragement and support. Lewis gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “You handled that perfectly. Don’t let anyone get to you.”

Charles grinned, his eyes full of mischief. “Yeah, and if he keeps talking, we’ll take care of it.”

Carlos laughed. “I don’t think he stands a chance against all of us.”

Max added, his tone sincere, “You’ve got us. We’re in this together.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship and support. “Thanks, everyone. It means a lot.”

As you prepared for the next race, you knew that with the support of your friends and the strength you had shown, you could face whatever came your way.

i cry a lot but I am so productive, it's an art

The morning of the race, you found yourself hiding in the bathroom, tears streaming down your face. The pressure of the season, the recent breakup, and the constant scrutiny had finally taken their toll. You sat on the floor, head in your hands, sobbing uncontrollably. "I cry a lot but I am so productive, it's an art," you thought bitterly, trying to pull yourself together.

Outside, the sounds of the paddock were a blur, but the faint knock on the bathroom door was unmistakable. "Hey, you okay in there?" It was Lewis's voice, filled with concern.

You tried to steady your breathing, wiping your tears. "Yeah, I'm fine," you lied, your voice trembling.

The door creaked open slightly, and Charles's worried face appeared. "We heard you crying. Do you want to talk, Speedy?"

Carlos and Max were right behind him, their expressions mirroring Charles's worry. "You don't have to do this alone, Champ," Carlos said softly.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you broke down again. "It's just... everything. The pressure, the breakup, the constant comments... I can't handle it."

Lewis stepped inside, kneeling next to you. "We're here for you, Superstar. You’re stronger than you know."

Max nodded, his usually stern face softened with empathy. "You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Ace. It's okay to have moments like this."

Oscar, who had just arrived, added, "And after all this, we know you’ll go out there and show everyone what you're made of, Rocket."

Their words, their presence, it all felt overwhelming in the best way. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "Thank you, guys. I just... I need to get through today."

Lewis helped you up, giving you a reassuring hug. "And you will, Star. We believe in you."

With their support, you made your way to the grid. The race ahead seemed daunting, but you channeled all your emotions into your performance. Lap after lap, you pushed yourself to the limit, determined to prove to yourself and everyone else that you could rise above it all.

When the checkered flag waved, you had done it. You won the race. The crowd erupted in cheers, but all you could think about was the breakdown you had just hours before. As you climbed onto the podium, flanked by Max and Oscar, you felt a mix of triumph and relief.

During the podium ceremony, the emotions threatened to overwhelm you again, but you managed to keep a brave face. When it was your turn to speak, you decided to lighten the mood. "I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art," you said with a smile. The crowd laughed, appreciating your honesty and humor.

Max and Oscar both hugged you tightly, their support evident. "You did amazing, Lightning," Max whispered.

Oscar added, "We’re so proud of you, Champ."

The three of you stood there, arms around each other, a united front against the world. The bond you shared was clear, and for a moment, all the pain and pressure seemed to fade away.

As you looked out at the cheering crowd, you knew that the road ahead would still have its challenges. But with the support of your friends and the strength you had shown today, you felt ready to face whatever came your way. And for now, that was enough.

i was grinning like I'm winning i was hitting my marks, cuz I can do it with a broken heart!

The final race of the season was here, and Abu Dhabi was buzzing with anticipation. You stood on the starting grid, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. The breakup, the constant pressure, and the emotional toll of the season had been overwhelming, but you had kept pushing forward.

As the race began, you found your rhythm. Lap after lap, you were grinning like you were winning, hitting your marks perfectly. The focus, the drive, the determination—it all came together. "I can do it with a broken heart," you thought, channeling all your pain into every turn, every straight, every maneuver.

When the checkered flag waved, it was you crossing the line first. The roar of the crowd was deafening as you realized you had just won the World Championship. Tears of joy and relief streamed down your face as you brought your car to a stop. You had done it. Despite everything, you had achieved your dream.

Climbing out of your car, you were immediately swarmed by your team, who lifted you high in the air, cheering your name. Amid the chaos, you saw Lewis and Charles running towards you, their faces lit up with pride and excitement.

As you stood on the podium, the reality of your accomplishment sinking in, you took the microphone for your victory speech. "This season has been the toughest of my life," you began, your voice wavering with emotion. "I’ve been through hell and back. Heartbreak, pressure, and so many nights where I didn’t think I could keep going. But I did. Because I’m stronger than my fears, stronger than my pain."

You paused, looking out at the sea of faces cheering for you. "To everyone who ever doubted me, who said I couldn't make it—look at me now! I was grinning like I was winning, hitting my marks... because I can do it with a broken heart!"

The crowd erupted in applause, and Lewis and Charles were the loudest, hollering and cheering for you. They rushed onto the podium, drowning you in hugs, their pride and love for you evident in their eyes.

Lewis pulled you into a tight embrace. "You did it, Superstar! I knew you could!"

Charles joined in, wrapping his arms around both of you. "You’re incredible, Speedy! We’re so proud of you!

The three of you stood there, holding each other as the celebration continued around you. The bond you shared was unbreakable, forged through countless races, challenges, and triumphs.

As the champagne flowed and the confetti rained down, you felt a sense of peace and fulfillment. Despite the broken heart, you had achieved your greatest dream. And with Lewis and Charles by your side, you knew you could face anything the future held.

This moment, this victory, was yours. And it was sweeter than you could have ever imagined.

try and come for my job

The afterparty in Abu Dhabi was in full swing. The entire paddock was buzzing with excitement after the thrilling end to the season, and tonight was all about celebration. You had just won the World Championship, and the energy was electric.

Dressed in a dark pink glittery dress, you let yourself get swept up in the festivities. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and everyone was ready to let loose after a long, grueling season. Your team was gathered around you, along with many of the other drivers, all celebrating your incredible achievement.

As the night went on, the mood became more jubilant. Someone handed you a shot, and you raised it high, feeling a surge of adrenaline and joy. The crowd around you cheered as you climbed up onto a tabletop, ready to make a statement.

Holding the shot glass in one hand, you looked around at the sea of faces, all eyes on you. You grinned mischievously, feeling a boldness take over. "Try and come for my job!" you shouted, downing the shot in one go.

The room erupted in cheers and laughter. Lewis and Charles were right there, cheering the loudest, their faces beaming with pride. The moment was captured on video by several people, and within minutes, it was already going viral on social media.

You continued to dance on the tabletop, feeling the music pulse through you. The crowd chanted your name, the energy infectious. Lewis and Charles joined you, clambering up onto the table and dancing alongside you, their arms around your shoulders.

Lewis leaned in close, his voice filled with laughter. "You’re unstoppable, Superstar!"

Charles, grinning from ear to ear, added, "No one’s taking your job, Speedy! You’re the best!"

Max and Oscar were below, cheering and laughing, capturing the moment on their phones. Carlos handed you another drink, shaking his head in amazement. "You’re a legend, Rocket!"

As the night went on, the party showed no signs of slowing down. You felt an overwhelming sense of camaraderie and love from everyone around you. The hardships and struggles of the season melted away in the light of this celebration.

Later, as you finally climbed down from the table, breathless and exhilarated, Lewis and Charles stayed close, their support unwavering. "We’ve got your back, no matter what," Lewis said, his tone sincere.

Charles nodded, his eyes filled with admiration. "You’re a champion in every sense of the word. Never forget that."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their words. "Thanks, guys. I couldn’t have done it without you."

The night continued, filled with laughter, dancing, and countless toasts to your success. The viral video of you downing a shot and declaring your dominance spread like wildfire, capturing the essence of your fearless, unstoppable spirit.

As the party finally wound down, you knew that this was just the beginning. With your friends and teammates by your side, you were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And for now, you were content to bask in the joy of this unforgettable night.

a/n : ahhh I've been waiting for this one!! happy reading 🩷 and as always, comments likes reblogs feedback etc is always appreciated 🤍

TAGS

f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion

ttpd series - @ateezseonghwanot @khaylin27 @imgondeletedis @jj-ever-lovely-jewel @stylestastic

charles : - @chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @moon-enthusiast @crlsummer @superlegend216 @electrobutterfly @formula1mount @f1lover20 @livsters @inkfable @ssararuffoni

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pitwallpoints · 23 days ago

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with sergio perez leaving red bull, and (likely) formula one for good, this needs to be said.

SERGIO PEREZ LEGACY AS A DRIVER SHOULD NOT BE DEFINED BY THESE LAST TWO YEARS

i have some issues with perez, he's not entirely uncontroversial (both on and off the track). but in the mercedes dominance era he took the fight to the top teams whenever the opportunity arose. the podiums were reserved for the three top teams (mercedes, ferrari, red bull). even the top six were often reserved for the top teams.

checo scoring a podium for force india or whatever the fuck they are called was a big deal. it was fun, fans enjoyed seeing an underdog scoring a p3. him getting the seat at red bull after winning bahrain (short version) in 2020 was great. it was an increasingly rare opportunity for fans to see how an established, "older" driver would perform in one of the fastest cars on the grid.

and the first two years were fine (excluding literally all the drama lol). should he have thrown in the towel two years ago? probably. can't expect and f1 driver to just "give up" though.

so, cheers to the drivers who aren't generational talents, the strugglers and the journeymen! 🍾🏁

(bonus "he's got so much rear end" content)

#of course f1 should strive towards having the best possible drivers on the grid #but it's disheartening to see how quickly people disregard drivers who aren't “good enough” or “handsome blorbo from my sport” or #not “meme-y”/chronically online enough (or at least their marketing team)#please get informed about the sport. read. watch videos. anything.#sergio perez #f1 #formula 1 #mycurrentf1blog.text

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inchidentally · 2 months ago

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just me flipping out over landoscar over the past 48hrs :)

ohhh GOODDDDD the way the commentary here is already perfect but just to add!! both shuffle about and seem to do a little of their creepy unspoken communication and then both immediately slip their arms around each other at the same time before they both look over to Max at the same time. bc the slightly scary bonded little McLaren creatures need to remember the rest of the grid exists sometimes ;__;

a-amvryllis

also the fact that Oscar's growth spurt over the winter really is visible when they're stood this close

and yet he's still the same awkward recent-growth-spurts young lad that got delivered to Lando's driver's room last season. he doesn't know what to do in front of cameras and his instinct is still to have Lando dancing and sparkling like the natural star he is so that Oscar can stand just a bit behind and fulfill his own publicity quota by reacting to whatever Lando is getting up to

mecachrome

THE CHEST TAP ohhhh the way that Oscar requires very little physical touch and Lando craves it and they've just… figured it out !! Lando squeezes Oscar's shoulder, taps his arm, initiates a handshake, shuffles back a little bc Oscar's always standing just behind him, snuggles closer to him when they're in cars for the drivers parade and it's remotely cold… and taps Oscar's chest as a 'thank you'

bc for Oscar, he gets his emotional fill through his eyes. while he's perfectly content with most people to do glances and hold eye contact when someone's speaking directly to him. but his eyes l i n g e r where he's especially fond or affectionate or in love. he watches Lily when she's looking at other people, he watched Logan for when he seemed lonely or when they were talking and Logan would stare out at the crowd, and g o ddddddd does he love to watch Lando. you can track his eyes as they trace Lando's features and the way his smile responds to watching Lando's mouth.

yet there's also the way they've learned each other's ways of expressing care/affection/checking in bc Lando can trust that Oscar will be looking to him when something is awkward or unsure, and Oscar can trust that Lando will come to him and let him know how he's feeling aaaaaaand I just think that's !!!

bc no bromance, no cultivating a dynamic or relationship by blending their social lives, no performing in any way. all of their little hallmarks are the most unplanned, unintentional sweet things like the nicknames Lando accidentally started and only continued bc it makes Oscar so happy, to Oscar's hearteyes that he absolutely surely must know fandom teases him about but doesn't bother to change. them being opposites in certain things and then eerily similar in others.

all of it comes back to the way they communicate in ways everyone else has to interpret to understand - and even then it's not like we ever get to see the stuff they think and talk about behind their little privacy door and in the downtime we know they have but that isn't documented. like, I don't want to stretch too far by implying something too intense or specific but there's definitely a Their Own World kind of thing happening. whether or not it's smth they've specifically knowingly cultivated or if it's just naturally how their dynamic shakes out.

bc we all love to joke that Oscar's jealous of Carlos or Daniel or Franco - but then he brings them up on his own in friendly ways and is a very definite carlando! and ppl wanted to make a lot out of Lando openly complaining to an audience that Oscar doesn't like enough of the same thing as him so they don't hang out as much as he does other drivers he knows. but then after that they immediately start playing padel and oh it's okay now! it literally was as simple as Lando not knowing Oscar was up for padel even if golf and regular partying won't be! and that shared activities are not a defining quality of a relationship and Lando said "spends the least time with off track" about Oscar and not "likes the least" or "has the least interest in" lasfgslajgfsalf

and like, I'm always saying how of course they'll have the usual teammate fights or spats or tensions at some point! it happens! Lando is deeply ingratiated into Max V's life socially - moreso than anyone else on the grid with Lando - but they're ever so slightly on ice at the moment bc they're too similar when it comes to competitiveness. but they'll be back to normal when the season - or the WDC race - is done and finished. and nobody likes to document it for good reason but Carlos and Lando have had plenty of challenging moments and many a 'see?? we're fine!!' golf excursions or fan service videos to smooth an issue over (including the worst gifs of all time that I can't find anymore where Lando straight up looked murderous). and then ofc the "I don't feel sorry for him" Lando/Daniel DTS stuff that caused such a fandom headache. and Oscar's always had a very simple, on track the job is to win unless instructed otherwise and then off the track we interact as people not drivers. so it's fully normal to expect situations where they're not happy w each other and it shows! but it hasn't yet and that's honestly kind of weird!! esp when they don't have the big broey type of friendship that Lando's had with his other two teammates - you'd honestly expect him to feel more at ease in showing it when he's pissed off with Oscar bc there's nothing to keep up for fandom/PR sake and no messiness with shared friend groups etc to worry about. but he's cultivated an exceptionally and very pointed approach of This Is My Team and My Job/I'm Established, He Is Not Yet/I'm The Experienced One where he sees the team unity as especially important for him to publicly present and assert. like, for all he hated the idea of being the older one and no longer baby brother, he's responded to Low Maintenance Watchful Oscar in the long run as someone's he needs to take care of and whose place in the team is partly his own responsibility. he's not just one of the drivers, he's The Guy at McLaren and Oscar's extremely painful induction into the team and F1 with basically the whole world praying for his downfall was so vastly opposite to his own gradual and loving introduction that it's clear he's taking their disparities into account. a LOT. this moment being a prime example of him correcting fans because of that. and probably also an uncomfortable awareness of the segment of his own fandom who are able to inflict a special kind of hell on anyone they view as not 100% serving Lando, the object of their unhinged obsession and bias.

like, it's a side note I'll prob never be able to go too deeply into for just that reason^^ but this viewing Lando as a permanent victim whose every good deed is seen as Not Necessary and ignoring the huge differences in position within this sport and within McLaren between him and Oscar - and simply slotting Oscar into a space Carlos and Daniel held - totally undermines Lando's real life growth as a man who does understand that disparity and does appreciate that Oscar inhabits a space totally his own and nothing to do with his older, experienced teammates - and also a man who is saying and doing these things about teamwork and appreciation for Oscar in a way that responds to those differences while not remotely expecting Oscar to mimic or parrot it back because they're not equals in the sport or with the team (which makes logical sense !!) and they're not what Lando was with Carlos or Daniel. and in all the insanity I feel like this coddling, constantly pitying and victimized approach that still hearkens back to Lando being The Baby on the team - completely fails to show him appreciation for who he actually has become and what he actually does and says that is so specifically commendable and shows such growth and strength that is so admirable. the constant expectation that he's saying and doing these things in any way that expects Oscar to copy or mirror him - when their positions could not be more different or imbalanced !!!! - and ignoring the way Lando actually doesn't expect that and that he receives gratitude and appreciation from Oscar in a way that is unique to Oscar bc everyone is different !! by viewing Lando as always perfection and never in the wrong and any good deed being automatically greater than anyone else's good deed, he is cut off from authentic appreciation and praise of the individual real life complex person he actually is and that such flat, default levels of adoration will ring meaningless to him compared to people who can objectively give him praise him as objectively as they see his flaws !! and that's why Max F is his lifelong best friend above all others ! anyway !!!!!

and like. idk. part of me feels a suspicion that this private little world Lando and Oscar have - that they cultivated around the time they decided to pull a lot of their relationship off of social media and not use it for PR (apart from the bog standard team media) - is also them wisely deciding to keep their negotiation of this new front runner craziness entirely to themselves. bc of course things aren't all sunshine and roses between them all the time, but what's clear is how mutually and maturely they've approached each new bout of drama. especially considering they're so young and everyone expected that to be the downfall to Zak's plot to have two young generational talents. and EVERY time it would make perfect sense for them to snipe at each other through the press or be caught feeling cold toward each other - or someone strategically edits or crops media to make it look so - they're huddled together somewhere giggling or playing board games or sharing junk food ;__; the brain rot of stan culture threatens to destroy fandom experience for everyone else but meanwhile the objects of their obsession are sharing a conspiratorial look and grinning at each other.

like… Netflix AND an F1 reporter have quite literally goaded and begged for them to fight and hate each other and each time Oscar boldly steps forward with that cool expression and undermines the effort, with Lando literally cheering him on <3 <3

#landoscar #inchidentallyanessay #landoscar lore #landoscar dynamic

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whateverisbeautiful · 5 months ago

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#32: The Safety (1.04)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It was very clear up to this point in TOWL that Rick hadn't felt alive in years. But in this next scene, we learn that Michonne hadn't truly been feeling safe in years. And why? Because the only time she feels safe is with Rick Grimes. 😭

Danai wrote and delivered a line that moved me, broke me, and healed me all at the same and I have so many thoughts on it because I appreciate it so much 🥲...

So inside the gym, Rick lets Michonne know that the CRM took out the helicopter because they always destroy any evidence that they exist. Then he acknowledges that the whole building is buckling but Michonne is preoccupied with something that’s caught her attention.

When she doesn’t respond to him, Rick says, "Michonne?" and she takes hold of a note left behind by a deceased innovator, Lakshmi Patel. Michonne starts to read it aloud and it explains that this place consisted of like-minded innovators trying to live off the grid and create a new, sustained, and hopeful future.

Patel clearly lost hope in that vision saying that their motto of ‘progress and redemption through innovation’ is now like a sick joke. It’s interesting the letter then says, “I can’t face how much I have failed everyone” because that connects to something Rick feels, especially since when he chose to die he believed he died a failure.

Patel says she can’t continue to watch their mission die and apologizes. Meanwhile, Rick reads a much-needed message on the wall that says “Trust in your ability to adapt and overcome. Your past doesn’t define you.” And he def needs to hear that.

gif cred: @clonecaptains

Michonne concludes reading the letter as Patel expresses her hope to be remembered as someone who refused to leave the world the same way she found it. And then Michonne gives a sad look at the body beside the letter seeing the somber fate of Patel.

Michonne knows there are some connections to be drawn between this letter and Rick so she notes how it tends to not work out and fall apart when people try to save the world their own way. And just to make it extra clear she’s talking about Rick she says, “Sound familiar?”

(Side note: I like how she stays having one side of her shirt hanging off her shoulder. There’s something casual and comfortable about it plus it’s sorta like she’s trying to get Rick to realize the shirts already hanging off and he can take the rest off if he gets it together lol)

Michonne says, “It’s just like this place. They thought they knew it all.” And then because these two can’t resist throwing some jabs in their arguments this ep she adds, “Oh except the killing of innocent people. Except that part.”

Also, I like the framing with a literal barrier between Rick and Michonne that paints the picture of the figurative barriers between them as well. Then Rick sounds the most CRM-ish he’s ever sounded when he responds saying, “The city stands.” Had me like...

And Michonne felt the same because the way she sighs - she’s so over this Commando front Rick is putting on. What happened to 'this isn’t my city'? I miss that energy.

And then Rick says, “And I’ll stop the killing. I’ll find a way.” He's so prepared to just burden himself with this mission. And Michonne challenges that, mentioning just like Patel thought she’d find a way...and we see how that worked out for her.

Rick says, “You still don’t understand.” And the reason Michonne 'doesn’t understand' this is because it’s not the actual root of why Rick won’t go home. She can’t be fooled. And what Michonne does understand is that what Rick is proposing to do is basically, “Signing up for lifelong duty to the enemy.” But Rick rebuts that, “This is about ending the enemy.”

I love that Michonne is quick to respond saying, “This is not you, Rick.” She keeps trying to emphasize this because she knows him deeply and she knows this is not him being anywhere near his true self.

It's really fascinating to see this scenario play out where Rick has lost himself and is now back with the one person who knows him better than he knows himself, who can continually and accurately remind him that this version of him is not really him.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

But Rick thinks there are some aspects of this version of him that are authentic as he says, “This isn’t me how? That I would give everything - my hand - my life for you. That’s not me?”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And I do love hearing Rick basically say I would give absolutely everything for you and how that's him to his core. And it is him, but also a healthy Rick would be fighting to be with her too, not just die for her.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

As Rick makes his way over to her side of the barrier he yells, “This is what I need to do to keep you safe!” Safety has understandably been such a huge priority for Rick to provide since the very beginning of TWD. And when he yells this I can hear this fear in his voice that he genuinely doesn’t think there’s another way to keep her safe than the one he’s taking.

I appreciate how passionate Rick feels about keeping her safe but also…the tone of it just needed to come down a few notches because no one should be yelling at Michonne. 👌🏽

Also, this made me think about how in the season 4 finale, Rick tells Daryl “I want to keep him safe. That’s all that matters” regarding protecting Carl after the horrible night with the Claimers. Keeping his family safe is such a driving force of Rick's character and he feels the same intense devotion to protecting Michonne as he yells that he has to stay with the CRM to keep her safe.

Her safety is all that matters to him rn and he’ll do anything to preserve it. But that’s why it’s such a perfect and impactful gut punch for Michonne to then reveal where her true source of safety comes from in this scene.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Despite Rick's more ramped-up energy, Michonne, like she so often had done in the main show, (with that bullet moment from Clear being top of mind) approaches Rick's antsy energy with this arresting calm and beautiful vulnerability as she just melts my heart by softly telling Rick....

“The only time I feel safe is when I’m with you.”

gif cred: @figmentof

Y’all…😭😭😭 Perfection. I love it so much and it’s truly my favorite thing she’s ever told him. 😍

Before I started writing these TOWL posts I knew two lines were basically going to need a whole post dedicated to the line alone and it’s this one here from Michonne and another line from Rick in episode 5 that we’ll talk about later. There’s just so much to unpack with Michonne telling Rick that the only time she feels safe is with him. It makes total sense.

I had made a post right after episode 4 that incorporated TWD gifs of all the moments where it was evident Michonne got her safety from Rick. And I just think it’s the sweetest thing on the planet to know that in this dangerous world, the one thing that most made Michonne feel like it’s gonna be okay is Rick. 🥹 I once saw someone say Michonne makes Rick strong and Rick makes Michonne safe and I love that. Gospel truth. 💯

It’s such a big deal too because Michonne is an incredibly strong, competent, independent woman who many look at and quickly assume she can just fearlessly protect herself. And while she can protect herself, Michonne has always had so many layers to her so she’s also vulnerable and needs to feel safe and reassured from something outside of herself too. And I love that she knows she found that in Rick. 🥹

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Then the utter pain comes in when you realize this means for almost eight years Michonne hasn’t truly felt safe. She’s had to gracefully balance the responsibilities, fears, and expectations of motherhood and leadership as well as establish security for others and some semblance of security for herself, all without the personal safe space of her husband to turn to. It breaks me. 😥

And this is another reason I’m glad TOWL gave Rick and Michonne this space to be not just fighters, community leaders, or parents, but a husband and wife trying to find each other and themselves again.

Also, I love that she says 'the only time.' Like genuinely she’s either safe with him or not really feeling safe at all. And I feel like that’s also clear in her TWD scenes post-Rick with all the ways Michonne would cling to Rick's memory through various items. It's like she was trying to garner some sense of comfort again from the only person she ever completely let her guard down and trusted she’ll be safe with.

I remember I received a message a few months ago that touched on if I'd explore when Michonne seemed to realize that she only felt safe with Rick in TWD, how it impacted her actions, and what that evolving journey of safety with him looked like. It took me a minute to get to, but I said I would definitely talk about it, and so I want to break that all down now, right here. ⬇😊

When it comes to Michonne and her safety becoming tied to Rick. I think it happened before she knew it happened. 👌🏽

Now of course in season 3, Rick and Michonne are strangers so it doesn't happen this season. But it does seem like Michonne's inherent safety with Rick started at least budding even this early.

I especially think this because of that beloved scene in Clear where she tells Rick about talking to her dead boyfriend. That’s a very personal and vulnerable thing to share, especially from someone who didn’t even tell Andrea much about herself when traveling with her for months. (Which was a smart move considering the way Andrea stayed gossiping 🙂)

To me, it shows that somehow Michonne felt safe enough with Rick to open up about herself - I think because she recognized that she and him have qualities inside of them that are uniquely similar.

And then at the end of season 3 when Rick comes real close to delivering her to the Governor she still comes back and shows grace, trusting that she could return and be safe with them. But again I don’t think it’s season 3 where her safety is tied to Rick yet.

I think that comes in season 4.

However, not 4A just yet because I think in the first half of season 4 Michonne is absolutely starting to feel more safe and comfortable with Rick but that in itself feels unsafe to her at the time. Which is why she keeps herself at a warm distance from him.

I never lose sight of Michonne’s backstory when thinking about what’s made the character who she is because it’s so important. I know the show sorta put her losing a son and boyfriend in the background but for me it always informs so much about her, in the early seasons especially. And that’s such a traumatizing thing she had to go through and so you just know that it’s probably a lot to now be growing closer and closer to this man and his son at the prison knowing how things turned out for the man and child she lost at that refugee camp.

Michonne clearly really likes Rick and Carl in 4A but letting them in close after knowing profound loss is a bit of a fear for her so instead she’d always find ways to keep Rick at a friendly distance and stay out and about, of course for other motives like tracking down the Governor but also to run from the potential “danger” of being hurt again if she lets Rick become a safe space for her like he’s so naturally becoming.

...But then the prison falls and so too do some of the walls around Michonne’s heart.

She tries to go back to her isolated ways after the prison but she can’t. She’s found family in those Grimes boys and she knows it and so even if she doesn’t know where those footsteps lead in After she knows she has to follow the call of her heart to be apart of something again.

In a heartbreaking scene in After (4.09), Michonne talks to Mike one more time, vulnerably saying she misses him and even saying she missed him while he was still here. It made me think how Michonne had probably also been keeping her distance from Rick out of a sense of loyalty to Mike. Just like Rick wrestled with feeling like he needed to be solely grieving Lori all the while falling hard for the katana-wielding woman that’s entered his life, I think Michonne also was subconsciously wrestling with feeling this intrinsic connection to Rick so soon after losing her family.

I really feel like Rick and Michonne’s immense sense of loyalty played a part in their slow burn being slow despite catching feelings for each other so quickly. Because while both of their former partners weren’t their person, they still weren’t just going to give up on them or abandon the memory of them, it’s not who Rick and Michonne are - they’re both loyal to the core, even to partners who weren’t loyal to them.

In some ways it seems like Mike might have stopped being able to understand Michonne, figuratively disappearing on her and giving up while she kept fighting, similar to how Lori just couldn’t understand Rick. But then Michonne and Rick met each other and felt exceptionally seen, known, heard, loved, and safe in ways that probably even surprised them towards the beginning of their bond. They finally found someone who could love them as loyally as they love, which is part of why of course their love can never be stopped or denied, not even by each other.

I think about how in season 3 Lori tells Rick he’s not a killer. But the thing is that killer is a part of him. It's not all of him but it is in him as we saw him really confronted with that side of himself at the end of season 4.

What’s beautiful about Rick's relationship with Michonne is she knows he’s a killer, even verbalizing that outright to Merle early in season 3, and she doesn’t have to deny it or change it to love him. Michonne gets that it’s in Rick and respects that as one of the many parts of him she respects and understands, not just from the outside looking in but personally. Basically, Rick and Michonne are each other's match in all the ways.

So in a beautiful act of resilience, Michonne fights the fear of being close to people again when she finds Rick and Carl in that house. And she truly embraces them as hers from here on out.

And I think here in this wonderful 4.09 moment when she finds Rick and Carl in that house is when Michonne more readily embraces that she feels most safe with Rick.

In Claimed (4.11), I think we start seeing more visibly how Michonne's safety is tied to Rick and how she subconsciously senses it. In that home, both Rick and Michonne express that they need each other and are willing to possibly make a home with the two of them and Carl. An unspoken agreement that they're forever family now.

One of the many interesting things about that scene between Rick and Michonne in Claimed is that Michonne says she’s done taking breaks. But she wasn’t necessarily leaving the prison to take breaks, she was going on runs and hunting down the Governor. However, phrasing it as 'breaks' could imply that part of her constant trips away from the prison was her leaving to run from how close she was becoming to Rick and Carl - to “take a break” from becoming reintegrated into a family after the tragic aftermath of her last family turned her into a lone wolf.

But I love that when she said she’s done taking breaks she meant that and lived up to it. And then in each 4B scene, we see more and more how Michonne starts to draw closer to the Grimes boys and feel safe enough to be herself with Rick.

Rick gets to see Michonne's playful side with Carl, he wants to include her in family hunting excursions, they like talking to each other and smiling over dinner, and they both often check in on each other to make sure they’re taken care of.

By the end of season 4 when Michonne knows she’s okay because Rick's okay, I think she's now cognizant that she feels safe with Rick in a way that’s different than anything & anyone else. And truly how beautiful is it that in a world where safety is a true rarity, Michonne found that so fully in Rick. 🥹

Also, as I've detailed in many a post, this is also the point where I believe she's subconsciously fallen in love with him. 🥰

And where Rick’s previous wife and his former best friend/sheriff's deputy doubted his ability to keep people safe, Michonne trusts Rick wholeheartedly as a good man capable of protecting his family against anything.

That's one of the great things about rewatching TWD Seasons 1 & 2. Those early seasons make it so clear that Michonne is a love Rick has never experienced before. We don’t just feel like their love is different we get to see it in how much more Michonne loves, respects, understands, believes in, and just all and all likes Rick as opposed to his former wife and best friend.

Last year I wrote a whole reflecting on richonne post about how Michonne and Rick rarely ever split up in TWD and were always paired up for most things. It was proof of their magnetism, trust, fondness for one another, and love.

But I like how now Rick and Michonne never splitting up in TWD is also such a clear sign of the safety they brought each other. And in season 5, that’s especially clear because they really are side by side through so much that season.

I think about when Michonne put her hand on Ricks before they entered Alexandria and how that was her way of offering comfort to him while also being comforted by his presence too. Just like Rick, a large reason she felt safe enough to walk out of that car and approach those ASZ gates after everything they’d been through is because she had Rick by her side.🥲

The one time they’re not operating side by side with Rick hiding the gun plot from her, they both feel so weighed down by having anything come between them, and they're eager to repair the distance by the end of the season.

Michonne had felt both asleep and restless when they arrived at ASZ and part of it is because her source of safety was sorta losing his mind. When Rick begins his return to sanity - and Michonne really is a core source of sanity for him - we see a sense of safety return to Michonne as well as she declares she’ll always be with him.

I always adored that s5 'I’m still with you moment' and I love it even more now knowing that part of why she so confidently knows she’ll be with him no matter what is because Rick is who she feels safest with. 😭

In 6A all of Richonne's scenes continue to solidify that Michonne feels most safe with Rick. And when Rick goes out into the horde in NWO Michonne full-on panics because he’s doing something unsafe and her own safety just evaporates as she expresses a rare moment of disarray.

And then in 6B we get to see a more personal and intimate way that Michonne feels safe with Rick. Even just walking around more stripped down in a robe and towel shows he’s made her feel super comfortable.

The heightened safety she feels with Rick is especially evident in their canon era - from the way they decompress on that couch before their first kiss, the way he calmingly reaches for her in the RV and it seems to immediately bring her peace, to just the safety to let herself be adored and loved on so fully by Rick’s good kind heart in all their comfy and sensual moments at home. 🥰

When she confides in Rick and tells him at the end of 7A that she only wants to go forward if it's with him - "you and me" - she means it.

And all through season 7 it’s clear she knows full well that the only time she truly feels safe is with him. It’s why she nearly throws in the towel - or throws in the sword - when she thinks walkers got to Rick in Say Yes and so vulnerably runs into his arms when seeing he is alive.

Michonne knew she couldn’t lose him on that honeymoon run. Not just 'I don't want to lose you,' she knew 'I can't lose you,' - something Rick too would grasp fully once taken from her for years. With soulmates like this, they lose each other, then in many ways they lose themselves.

When Michonne told Rick she couldn't lose him in Say Yes, I knew she felt it was because she loves him deeply but after TOWL it’s clear how she also knew she’d never truly feel safe again if she were to lose him. 😭 They are each other's security in this crazy world.

Then, after getting in that brutal brawl in the s7 finale, Rick makes getting to Michonne a priority and when he finds her against that wall, she just hears his voice and feels his touch and it looks like a sense of safety has been restored to her. And to Rick too.

In season 8, sirens go off in Michonne's head being away from Rick during the war and it’s clear she won’t be able to rest truly until he’s back.

And in that season's msf I’ve always felt it’s so clear that when she tells Judith she’ll bring her daddy back, Michonne is excited for both her baby girl and herself that they’ll have Rick back finally - the man who makes their family feel complete and safe. 👌🏽

After tragically losing Carl (which is forever heartbreaking 💔💔💔), both Michonne and Rick try to be a safe space for each other even despite their own immense individual pain.

And they do find their way back to each other, saying i love you and holding hands off to war because no matter the circumstances if they can hold each other they can feel a sense of safety.

And in s9, before Rick leaves, Richonne really feel so at home and safer than ever with each other. It’s a beautiful time for them and all their nice season 9 scenes show how Michonne is wrapped in the love and safety of her husband. Even literally just waking up with his arm wrapped around her.

When Michonne had some real apprehension regarding if the people could really band together after Negan, she always knew she could voice those concerns with Rick and he’d reassure her so encouragingly. Also for a woman to agree to get pregnant in an apocalypse - that requires feeling a lot of safety and Rick made Michonne feel safe enough to do that. 🥲

But then Rick is taken and it’s devastating. 💔 And with his absence, Michonne’s safety also goes away.

She had to bring the beautiful life they created into the world without him. And you can just imagine there were so many nights alone in bed during her pregnancy when she’d longed for him to be there. And so when she looks at Rick with the CRM in ep 3 and yells you were alive ‘with them’ in this episode, I always sense this added hurt because those CRM people, who don’t even appreciate Rick, got to be around him all the time while she was miles away longing for him to be with her and feeling unsafe without him.

And this profession that she only feels safe with him makes all those moments post-Rick where she’d still find ways to connect with him all the more meaningful because even after he’s gone, she still only feels at least a semblance of safety with him.

Be it through the ring she wears and even fiddles with on her finger when needing to think, a Sherriff action figure, the bullet shell from his gun that she always wears in her hair to keep him close, talking to him in their bedroom, and most notably wrapping herself in his clothes just to try to remember how safe she once felt in his arms.

It moves me so much how she still only felt safe with Rick even after he was taken from her. She tells Judith how she felt so lost after Rick was gone. And because she’s strong she figured out how to keep going of course, but the world became an ultra-dangerous place again so it makes sense why she’d become as cautious as she became. Nothing could make her truly feel safe until she was back with her true love.

And when Michonne is back with Rick in TOWL, you see that sense of safety start to come back. She has no clue where he’s taking her or how they’ll get out of this CRM place but she trusts him. She knows he’ll do anything to keep her safe.

But the surprising aspect is Rick will do anything to keep her safe…including trying to destroy being her safe space so that she’ll be willing to leave him and make it home. 🥀☹️

And that is exactly what we see happen as this heart-gripping gym scene continues. So my extra self has to do a part two to talk about the latter half of this gym scene.

I'll conclude this post by saying, “The only time I feel safe if when I’m with you” is such a deeply beautiful, meaningful, and memorable line. 😭 Black women, both in fiction and in reality, don't always get to express that innate want to feel safe with someone/something outside of ourselves and so seeing Michonne get to say that her safety doesn't just come from her but from her husband was powerful and lovely. 👏🏽

I forever love Danai for knowing Michonne would feel this way in her relationship with Rick and allowing her to voice it so perfectly and authentically here. This episode really was written by someone who knows Rick and Michonne inside and out and I adore the way Richonne is each other's truest safe space. 🥹👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.04 #RIR (32)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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theemporium · 1 year ago

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Sunshine comforting Daniel when he’s stressed 🥹

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Everyone had their off days.

He knew that. He really did. It was totally normal and human to have days where you didn’t feel the best, or didn’t work as hard as you could’ve. It was totally normal and human to have days where you just felt down or overwhelmed.

Daniel knew that.

But his bad days were broadcasted for the whole world to see, and it didn’t make things any easier. It had just been a series of events all fuelled by bad luck: a faulty car during practices, long pit stops, crashes caused by other drivers that left him as collateral.

None of it was his fault, but it didn’t make him feel any less responsible. He let fans down. He let the team down. He let himself down. The last stint of bad races were taking a toll on him, and bottling it up seemed to be working fine until now.

The smiles were harder to fake. The disappointment was harder to mask. The interviews felt like twisting the knife already jabbed into his stomach. And the comments from fans online only added salt to the wound.

It was media day. The start of a new race weekend. And usually, Daniel was good at letting things roll off his back and focus on the future. Until today, at least, when he found himself huddled in his driver's room, unable to find the guts to walk out to the rest of the paddock and pretend like he was okay.

It had been the PR manager who approached you. They couldn’t find Daniel. He wasn’t answering anybody’s calls or messages. And when they knocked on the driver’s room door, they received no answer even though it was locked.

They were worried, and if anyone could get through to him, it was you.

You didn’t think twice before you made your way over to the Red Bull motorhome. You ignored most of your colleagues, your one track mind set on finding your boy.

When you knocked on the door, nobody answered.

When you knocked again, you still received no answer.

It wasn’t until you spoke that Daniel finally opened the door.

“Danny? Baby, it’s me. Open up.”

The door flew open in less than thirty seconds, already shut and locked behind you before you even realised that he had dragged you into the room.

It took one look at your boy before you wrapped your arms around him, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and his arms wound around your middle to hold you close.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel sobbed, his words slightly muffled but it didn’t stop them from making your chest tighten. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Danny,” you whispered softly, pulling back enough to cup his face in your hands. “Sorry for what? What did you do?”

Daniel let out a shaky breath. “The last few races—” He choked out but he was unable to finish.

But you knew. You always knew when it came to him.

“Don’t,” you muttered, shaking your head as your thumbs wiped away the stray tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t apologise. Baby, listen to me. The last few races have been hard, but they are not your fault.”

He opened his mouth but you quickly interrupted.

“They’re not,” you stated. “And they don’t define you or your career. You’re a good driver, Danny. The grid knows it. The world knows it. I know it. And I’m not just giving you a pass because you’re sexy and my boyfriend.”

He let out a small laugh.

“You have no reason to apologise,” you said in a softer voice. “You hear me?”

“I just…ever since everything with McLaren, I feel like I need to prove myself,” he whispered, his words heavy and his eyes dark. “I need to prove I deserve my seat, that I deserve to be racing with the top teams—”

“You do. And the people who matter know that,” you told him, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his skin.

He nodded, his eyes falling shut as he leaned into your touch.

“And you don’t have to hide how you feel either,” you added after a few moments of silence. “Especially not with me.”

Daniel gulped, opening his eyes to find yours. His eyes were still a bit wet and glossy, but he seemed lighter than he did moments ago when he opened the door.

“I know,” he rasped. “And I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.”

“We’re a team, remember? You suffer, I suffer,” you murmured.

Daniel laughed. “I’d rather neither of us suffer, Sunshine.”

“We take what life gives us,” you shrugged, something easing inside you when your boy smiled. “How about we chill in here for a bit before they drag you away to media?”

“Breaking the rules now? Who are you and what did you do to my Sunshine?” Daniel gasped, laughing when you jokingly slapped his chest. But he just pulled you closer, nuzzling himself against you once again. “Let’s stay in here forever, yeah?”

“It’s a little cramped but yeah, forever sounds good.”

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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vax-merstappen · 1 year ago

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F1 boys as reputation songs

bc rep is my favorite era 🖤

Lando Norris

So It Goes:

Lando is absolutely the kind of guy who can “make everyone disappear” and mesmerize someone. He also screams “I’m not a bad girl but I do bad things with you” energy. He absolutely could make me cave and do literally anything and maybe that says more about me than him but 🤷. Also I think he is definitely a bit rough when it comes to love and “scratches down your back” would really fit with him.

Oscar Piastri

New Year’s Day:

He is so soft and sweet and the type that would definitely feel sentimental towards his girlfriend. He is absolutely the type of guy who would want to spend time with someone even if it was just cleaning up a party after new year’s. One of the sweetest guys on the grid absolutely fits the sweetest song on reputation. I adore imagining soft moments with Oscar and this song just fits that so well.

Max Verstappen

End Game:

Max gives big end game energy. He currently has the biggest reputation on the grid to uphold and a lot of haters, which resonates a lot with this song. I feel like people are also always trying to make drama about Max, which fits the line “I swear I don’t love the drama, it loves me.” I think he is just such a first-string, A-team driver on the grid that end game just has to go to him, at least as of right now.

Charles Leclerc

Gorgeous:

Like look at this man. He is stunning. Also “ocean blue eyes, lookin in mine.” He also screams boyfriend I can’t have energy and I think that he just fits this song so perfectly. Can absolutely imagine staring at this man and longing for this pretty boy. He is gorgeous and I question anyone who says otherwise.

Carlos Sainz

Don’t Blame Me:

He would be such a passionate lover that would inspire lyrics like “I get so high every time you’re loving me.” He is the diver that I can see driving someone crazy with love. I also believe he would fall from grace just for his lover. He would be fully committed to a partner and would stay with them for “the rest of my life.” Maybe it’s the ferrari red that makes me think of him as such a deep and passionate lover, but I really think he fits this song so well.

Lewis Hamilton

Call It What You Want:

Absolutely think this song belongs to Lewis. I feel like any girlfriend of his would be a priority in his life and he would make her feel so special, à la “loves me like I’m brand new.” I also feel like he absolutely is a chill guy who is “high above the whole scene.” Lewis is the type of guy who wouldn’t want to strictly define his relationships and would want to simply focus on making his partner happy. Also me personally I think he has “starry eyes.”

Daniel Ricciardo

Dress:

He gives off major best friend who you’ve been pining for energy. I can imagine him looking at you in a brand new dress and noticing how he really feels for you for the first time. Also his positive energy really fits the lyric “even in my worst times, you could see the best in me.” The golden tattoo line fits with his tattoos as well and I can imagine getting matching tattoos with Daniel. He would be willing to take off your pretty dress you bought.

Yuki Tsunoda

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Yuki seems like the most devoted boyfriend who would do everything he could to prevent the world from splitting you up like the line “you said there was nothing in the world that could stop it.” Yuki would also be the type of guy who would tune the world out for his girlfriend, like “can we dance through an avalanche.” If you wanted to keep dancing through an avalanche, Yuki would be right there with you. He would never want to leave your side.

Alex Albon

Delicate:

He is totally the kind of sweet guy who would not care about his girl’s reputation and would love her for herself. I can picture making a late night confession to him and him just pulling you close and letting you know that everything will be okay. I could also completely imagine looking into his eyes to “pretend you’re mine all the damn time.” Just the sweetest guy who would hear you out if you needed him to listen.

Logan Sargeant

King of My Heart:

Ok so this one might be a bit of stretch to some, but to me it just seems right. Logan is absolutely the driver I can imagine “drinking beer out of plastic cups” on a roof with. I also think the American Queen line fits perfectly because Logan is such an American king on the grid. With the “never took me quite where you do” line, Logan definitely is the guy to know a spot and take his girl there and make the place their own special meeting place.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #f1 girl #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #alex albon x reader #logan sargeant x reader

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miffywoo · 28 days ago

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Porsche Princess - K.JW

New F1 AU Series Trailer Team Principal!Kim Jungwoo x Driver!Reader

word count: 360 tw: none content: slow burn drama female reader, 2024 f1 season cast, and more. for my non-f1 mutuals, team principals are basically the executive coaches in the sport, in f1 there are two drivers and 1 team principal per team! for my non-kpop mutuals, he's just cute as fuck lol. pls like, reblog, or comment if you like it! it helps alot :')

NEW TEASER - HERE

In the high-speed world of Formula 1, barriers are meant to be broken, records shattered, and hearts raced. Y/n L/n, the first female driver in the 21st century, joins the new Porsche Kia Formula 1 Racing Team on the paddock. Where every second on the track writes history by redefining the limits of physics and society. At her side, team principal Jungwoo Kim, the youngest F1 team principal in the sports history. Whos background in leadership and engineering are about to be tested in the crusible of world class racing.

As Y/n's aggressive driving captivates the world, her dynamic with the enigmatic Jungwoo doesn't just spark rumors; it ignites a slow-burning flame watched eagerly by eyes around the globe. From the paddocks to the glamorous after-parties, every penalty, win, and heart-pounding moment is captured, raising not just their profiles but suspicions and hopes of a romance blooming against the backdrop of the racing world's relentless pressure.

However, with every podium finish and shared glance, the lines between professional and personal blur. Drive to Survive cameras circle, media speculates, and fans are on the edge of their seats, wondering if Y/n and Jungwoo can navigate their feelings amid the high stakes of Formula 1 racing. Will their relationship crash under the intense spotlight, or will they find love on the victory lap? Can Y/n and Jungwoo handle the pressures of their growing fame and the escalating whispers of their potential affair?

Join Y/n and Jungwoo as they race through challenges on and off the track, where passion meets precision, and every heart-pounding moment could lead to victory or heartbreak. In the world of F1, nothing is certain except the speed at which the world can change when you dare to risk it all. Dive into this F1 season of firsts, how her title as the Porsche Princess defines on and off the track, see what's won and what is lost.

authors note: hi everyone! i go by mimi and I hope you enjoyed this trailer so far. this is my first creative writing piece that i'm sharing so i appreciate any support on this. i've actually been super nervous abt releasing this but i really look forward to sharing this series with you guys. for reference ive been following f1 for quite some time now and i've recently got back into kpop, so i thought there has to be atleast one person out there might like this au (i hope). i might make a taglist just lmk if youre interested, im still navigating how to use tumblr like this so bear with me-- it also just depends if anyone even likes this djfdkfjf so we'll see how this goes ok this is getting long sorry. but i intend to namely use the 2024 season grid (to the best of my abilities lol) and will also include a love triangle with another driver oop if you read this far then you heard it first kdfjdkjfsdlkfj disclaimer: i do not own f1 and drive to survive, this is written under my own inspiration and creative purposes only! all pictures and divers are from tumblr and pinterest oki thank u.

just posted the sneak peak here :3

#jungwoo x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 au #kim jungwoo #nct jungwoo #jungwoo smut #jungwoo imagine #jungwoo fanfiction #jungwoo fanfic #nct 127 #nct smau #nct u #jungwoo nct 127 #jungwoo fluff #jungwoo icons #jungwoo au #formula one #nct au

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peterbarnes · 1 year ago

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Maybe Season 2: Chapter 1

Summary: You work at the TVA as an analyst. Every day is the same- boring case after boring case- but your entire life changes one day when a new variant shows up.

Word Count: 1.5k

Catch up on season 1 of the series!

A/N: chapter 1 is here!! I'm gonna try to upload weekly. I'll try to stay somewhat canon-compliant but since I kind of diverged during the season 1 finale, not everything will be the exact same as the show (obv). Enjoy!

It’s hard being in a place outside of time.

Your life drags on, but there’s nothing to quantify it; no way to measure your loneliness or your work. But - if you had to guess - it would be somewhere close to eternity.

You hadn’t slept once since He Who Remains passed. It was peaceful, just like he’d hoped. And it was a stark reminder that despite everything, he was still just a human being.

“You must protect the timeline,” he whispered to you on his deathbed. “My variants…if they come -”

“I won’t let them,” you interrupted. “I’m not scared.”

“You should be,” he said, voice quivering. “The Conqueror. He has no hesitation, no restraint. He is a vessel of destruction. I am a vessel of destruction.”

You took his shaking hand, gripping it tightly. Your heart thumped in your chest, nearly blocking out all other sounds. It was like someone was squeezing your ribs, blocking any air from coming in.

“Everything will be okay,” you promised.

It was a lie.

- - -

“No, no, no, no,” you repeated to yourself.

You were running around the citadel, from TemPad to TemPad, document to document. It was a mess - books scattered across the floor and cracks breaking apart the marble walls.

“Miss Minutes!” You called.

“Yes?”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and whipped around to find the orange clock floating behind you.

“Why isn’t Renslayer answering my calls?” You questioned.

Miss Minutes wasn’t taking your succession of Time too well. She met every question or command you gave with an eye roll or a snarky comment.

“I already told you,” she said, exasperated. “I don’t know.”

“Your job is literally to know everything,” you snapped, slamming a document down onto your desk.

“Hey!” She retorted. “You watch your tone with me, missy. Judge Renslayer is completely off the grid. I can’t track her or her TemPad anywhere.”

“Can’t or won’t?” You asked.

Miss Minutes didn’t answer. She simply scoffed and crossed her orange arms.

“You see that?”

You pointed out the window - to the Sacred Timeline beyond the Citadel. Except, it didn’t look the same as when you arrived. Instead of a beautiful blend of neon hues in one direction, streaks were going in all different directions. Branches, and they were growing fast.

“If I can’t contact the TVA’s head judge, then we can’t create a plan to stop this branching!”

You were screaming at this point, more to yourself than Miss Minutes.

“This never happened under He Who Remains,” Miss Minutes argued, pointing her gloved finger at you. “This problem started as soon as you took over.”

You glared daggers at the AI, but she wasn’t wrong. You had promised to protect and uphold Time, to prevent a multiversal war. All you had accomplished since you took over was making it worse.

“It’s not just me,” you tried to reason. “The TVA is falling apart. Now that we - the employees - know they’re variants, they’re either going back to their place on the timeline or refusing to prune. It’s a disaster!”

You plopped onto your desk chair, burying your head in your hands. Your nails picked at your scalp, pulling hair and skin out of frustration.

“This is your responsibility now,” Miss Minutes told you coldly. “If the TVA isn’t working right, get down there and fix it yourself.”

And with that, she was gone. The only person - and you use ‘person’ loosely - you had to talk to.

You sniffled into your sleeve. It was a blue sweater, warm and soft. It might appear mundane, but it was the only piece of clothing you’d worn that wasn’t your TVA uniform. It wasn’t supposed to be defined by your job, but you. Yet here you were sniffling into it as you crumbled under the pressure of your choices.

“I can’t fix it. Why can’t I fix it?” You scolded yourself as tears cascaded down your cheeks.

Miss Minutes’s words echoed in your head.

Get down there and fix it yourself.

Your eyes narrowed at the TemPad that sat on the desk before you. You wiped your eyes on your sleeve before grabbing the device and activating a Time Door.

You walked toward it, prepared to enter when something caught your eye. Your old TVA jacket lay scattered on the floor in the corner, still caked in blood from when you fought Sylvie and Loki. The memories flashed through your mind, and you winced. You pictured an alternate timeline where everything worked out perfectly. You and Loki together in a beautiful house. You would get a high position at a tech company as he spends his days exploring human literature and making amends for his past. Sylvie peacefully traipsing the countryside, finally having that chip off her shoulder. Mobius visiting you and Loki, sharing stories about his jet ski rides.

If only reality were as perfect as dreams.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you ran and grabbed the jacket from the floor. It slipped on easily, like habit. As much as you had tried to run away from it, there was comfort in the familiarity.

The Time Door stood before you, inviting you in. You inhaled a deep breath and closed your eyes.

And then you walked through.

When you opened your eyes, you saw two gold doors. You backed up, trying to figure out where you were, only to back into a wall. The tiny space you were in was an elevator, you quickly realized. No button was pressed, but it moved nonetheless like it was taking you where you needed to go.

You were about to slip the TemPad into your pocket when it started beeping furiously.

“I swear if this isn’t Renslayer -”

There was no message, no notification awaiting you. Instead, what you saw was utter destruction.

“Oh my God,” you whispered in horror.

Bomb after bomb was being dropped on branches. They snapped off the timeline like twigs as entire universes were completely eradicated. It wasn’t pruning - it was genocide.

If you had never let the branches grow this far, this never would have happened.

It’s your fault.

It’s all your fault.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The control room of the TVA was packed. Analysts and Hunters crowded the room, staring at the screen in front of them. What was on your TemPad was now displayed much bigger. A broken timeline, a massacre.

“Those are lives,” you heard someone say.

Shock overcame your body. You had no control anymore of your actions - you didn’t even realize you had been walking until the elevator doors shut behind you and you were in the center of the control room.

The TVA workers parted as you walked by them. Gossip spread, and whispers were shared. They all knew - you could tell. They knew about your betrayal, how you sided with the man that had stolen their lives - your life.

As the last of them parted, one person stood firmly in your way. Raven hair messily fell past his cheeks, and his blue eyes bored into you. They widened as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Hi.”

It was all you could say.

“Hi,” he responded.

An awkward pause settled between you. Loki cleared his throat and turned to Mobius, who nodded at him encouragingly.

“He was wrong,” Loki said to you. “A replacement didn’t stop the branching.”

“He wasn’t wrong,” you told him softly. “I just wasn’t right.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“I tried,” you said, voice cracking. Tears slowly welled in your eyes. “I thought I could fix it. But no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. I was never enough. I failed.”

You tried to wipe your tears discreetly so no one would see.

“You have some nerve showing up here,” one of the workers shouted. Others sounded their agreement.

You stared at the floor in shame.

“Easy, X-10 or I’ll throw you in that cell with Brad,” Loki threatened, his tone pointed and glare blazing.

“I want to help,” you said to the hunter. “There’s a war coming. We need to be ready.”

Mutters broke out amongst the crowd.

“A war?”

“What war?”

“What do you mean?”

But amidst all the chaos, Loki’s eyes didn’t leave yours. You watched as he slowly walked toward you. The anger in his eyes faded immediately when he looked at you. Instead, they looked sad - the type of melancholy only heartbreak could cause. Misery, longing, and fear all in one. But he pushed it aside, approaching you and holding out his hand.

“Stay?” He asked softly.

“Always.”

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screemnch · 1 year ago

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Heterotopias, Pathologic, and what they have in common.

In the introductions of these I tend to put completely unrelated life anecdotes, because this isn't an academic paper. With that being said - I do hope to put together the next instalment of the bilingual madness project that I've started, but not right now. I'm in the part of my life where I'm majoring in a subject and a few months of study have granted me the delusion that I actually know things, and I'm taking that and running with it. This little unhinged essay will include the following:

A brief recap of who Foucault is (really brief. Just for the context)

A little less brief recap of his concept of the "heterotopia", an explanation of some necessary concepts and essays on the subject

The examination of heterotopias in game - how they exist within the fictional town on Gorkhon and what that means

Finally, a pretentious talk about video games and specifically Pathologic as a heterotopia, where I might go completely off the rails and lose all my trains of thought at once.

So let's get started.

Who is Michel Foucault?

Michel Foucault (1926-1984) was a French philosopher, critic, activist and damn near everything. There are few topics in my current major where his name doesn't come up. He's had a say in theories of language, gender, sexuality, identity, space, politics, power and so on and so forth. There have also been multitudes of people criticising his ideas, and not without good reason. In this discussion I'm not putting this dude on a pedestal and I don't encourage anyone to base their whole understanding of philosophy on one French guy's opinion. That being said, let's go look at some of his ideas in terms of language and space.

What is a "heterotopia"?

Wikipedia kindly tells me that the word was first used in the preface of an essay called "the Order of Things". In the preface, Foucault compared it directly to the concept of a utopia (which is where the alarm bells go off for any and all pathologic fans). This was preceded by an important discussion of language in terms of relations - the idea that many concepts and things are described and perceived through the lens of comparison and juxtaposition. Think about how one would perceive light by comparing it to darkness. In Foucault's opinion, these relations make up a grid that shapes our perception. These relations are, by definition, also mutually exclusive. That which is a dog cannot also be a cat. That which the language defines as close cannot be far.

Which is why, immediately after that, Foucault says "lol, syke" there ARE things that can encompass these contradictory sites within themselves; a fantastical conceptual instance in which something like that is possible - he calls those things "utopias". In the preface he even calls the road to such a utopia "chimerical". The more common view of a utopia is "a perfect place with no flaws". But in Foucault's writing, utopias are something that rises above our perception of relations and embodies multiple contradictory things at once - which is what makes it perfect. Most importantly, however - utopias have no physical space. They cannot. Our language doesn't allow for something that exists outside of comparisons, especially not when it physically manifests in our world.

This is why, for example, in pathologic, Aglaya Lilich so vehemently insists that the Polyhedron cannot stand. She calls it a utopia, and those things cannot exist, must not exist. They cannot take up physical space. Which is when our good friend Foucault comes back for a surprise round.

See, we were lead to believe that utopias cannot exist, and it's meant to be a comfort - there isn't anything in our perception of the world that shatters our grid of comparisons and juxtapositions and that's wonderful. But we were, all of us, deceived. And we should be scared, because, to quote him directly - "Heterotopias are disturbing, probably because they secretly undermine language, because they make it impossible to name this and that, because they shatter or tangle common names, because they destroy 'syntax' in advance, and not only the syntax with which we construct sentences but also that less apparent syntax which causes words and things (next to and also opposite of one another) to 'hold together'" (this is still from the preface, yeah). In saying this he does not make clear what exactly a heterotopia is, which is why we'll turn to his other works. Namely "Heterotopias" (the introduction to which, written by Anthony Vidler helped me a ton in understanding what the hell this overly verbose dude is talking about) and its later iteration called "Of Other Spaces." I think those were both originally speeches, but I've found them transcribed, and I'm more focused on their meaning anyway. Those two texts are almost the exact same thing, with a few select differences, which aren't exactly relevant.

We get our proper explanation in these essays that I'll sum up to my best ability. A heterotopia is something that takes up physical space, yet has properties similar to a utopia. A physical space that embodies contradictory qualities. One of his early examples of something that is a heterotopia (but also a utopia at the same time, go figure) is the mirror; the false reality in which you are portrayed in a physical space where you are not, because you are quite clearly not standing in front of yourself, makes it a utopia. Yet the fact that by existing it creates a space in which you are technically standing in front of yourself makes it a heterotopia. He also points out a children's playground as a heterotopia. In "Heterotopias" the essay he likens it to children playing on their parents bed, but we could compare it to, say... A sandbox. Children playing in a sandbox is a heterotopia. The sandbox is a physical space, and yet it's also an unreal "other" space that exists in the children's perception. This space, say, a town, is both existent and non-existent. Contradictory.

Foucault goes to say more about the kinds of heterotopias that can exist, and as he mentions them, it becomes clear as to why architects took to the concept so readily. Many of these heterotopias are not just physical spaces, but buildings - theatres, museums, prisons, etc. There are other types of heterotopias - cemeteries, or "heterotopias of festival", but that's beside the point. A prominent example Foucault brings up is the brothel (a place both public and private at the same time) but he states the "perfect" heterotopia to be the boat/ship. Seriously, he calls them the "greatest reservoir for our imaginations" ("Heterotopias") and waxes poetic about how if we didn't have boats we'd be deprived of dreams. But hey, I'm here talking about a video game, who am I to judge.

Architecture, Space, and the Town on Gorkhon

Good old Wikipedia defines heterotopias as spaces that are somehow "other." Which is a good explanation for people who already know what a heterotopia is. As I've explained above, it's a little bit more complicated than that. However when I first heard the definition, my brain went "That's the Polyhedron! That's the stupid tower from that one game I'm obsessed with!" And indeed, it'd be easy to look at Wikipedia's definition of a heterotopia and compare it to the Polyhedron - it's most definitely "other." Even by what we've established here - it's a utopian contradiction that exists in physical space. So is Aglaya Lilich wrong for calling it a "utopia"? Is it actually a "heterotopia"? Would that change anything at all about the events of the game?

Real answer is: I dunno. Out of context of the game's story, it very much would count as a heterotopia (if we treat it as something existing within a real space, not in game space). It would be an architectural wonder, but it would also be a physical space that encompasses multiple things at once. It's made of paper and mirrors at the same time. It's precarious and safe at the same time. You could even bring in a specific type of heterotopia it could be - namely a "crisis heterotopia" (as outlined by Foucault in both "Heterotopias" and "Of other spaces") - a kind that is supposedly phasing out of existence. A place where people go when they are in a state of crisis. This is where debate would no doubt arise, because there are a bunch of types of heterotopias it could be (heterotopia of deviation, for example) and I love that. It's contradictory. It cannot be juxtaposed to other types of heterotopias. It shatters the liguistic definitions we cling to. Meta as fuck and I love that for her.

But also, raining on the parade of "the Polyhedron is totes a heterotopia, y'all" is the existence of context within and without the game. The town on Gorkhon is not a real space, and isn't in a real time. And that is both as a "game space" (a game played by kids in a sandbox) and as a ""game space"" (a game played by us, the players). In this way, concepts can manifest themselves without manifesting, things can exist without existing. The Polyhedron only takes up physical space within the eyes of the dolls, but to the kids it is no more real than the town itself. Within the laws of the game - the Polyhedron never became a heterotopia. It's a concept that the children spoke into existence, a contradictory thing, that also remains within a fantastical "game space". It's only rational that Aglaya would call it a utopia - her meta awareness allows her to see the tower, the whole town, for what it is. And as a utopia, it should not have a physical manifestation within the world that Aglaya can perceive. She is still just a doll, after all, and the world she perceives is physical to her, even if she knows it's just "game space".

I'm not posing either one of these ideas as "the correct one". You can choose to believe that the Polyhedron is a heterotopia, or you can believe that it's a utopia because it's all a game. You can even say that all of this is bs, and all the developers at IPL were trying to say is that perfection is impossible. But I'm gonna keep playing around and talk about another fun thing: the heterotopias are everywhere.

Go back to treating the town on Gorkhon as a physical space again. You may recall in the examples of heterotopias I cited some buildings and spaces that might sounds particularly interesting. A theatre. A cemetery. There's also the idea that heterotopias have a unique relationship with time, in terms of either constantly accumulating time (museums) or emphasising its transience (fairgrounds). This temporal quality may remind you of the Catherdal in marble nest, where it warps time and changes the way it's perceived. In all honesty, when considering heterotopias besides the Polyhedron, my first thought went to the Abbatoir - it's a place where only select few are allowed, where a collective exists both privately and within the eye of society (which is also themselves), that accumulates time from way back in the history of the town. In short, just like the real world, the town on Gorkhon is full of heterotopias. And it's not surprising - Foucault's first principle of heterotopias established in both of the aforementioned essays is that "there is probably not a single culture in the world that fails to constitute heterotopias". Similarly, no longer thinking of the town on Gorkhon as a physical space, the town becomes a heterotopia as well. That is - it's a town within a sandbox during some kids' playtime. Delightfully meta. Let's all get delightfully meta, shall we?

Are video games heterotopias?

I was unable to find if Foucault has ever said anything about video games throughout his life. Technically he has existed at the same as them, but maybe at this point he had lost interest in talking about these spaces. There are multiple articles out there talking about games and Foucault's theories, and the sole reason why I haven't read them for this essay is because I didn't want to go down a goddamn rabbit hole and waste the next 8 hours reading about... Idk, tadpoles or smth. Let's work from the start, shall we?

Foucault clearly states that children playing pretend in a physical space is heterotopic. The place where they play becomes a heterotopia. Jumping off of that we can assume that things such as LARP (which takes place in a select location) is also a heterotopia, with an addition of some rules that the players adhere to. This leads us to considering things such as live dnd sessions heterotopic as well - players are gathered around a table. Their combat map, the physical space the DM uses to create the imagined space - all becomes a heterotopia (yes I made it about dnd, I'm a nerd of many talents). Once we take a step further, towards things like online dnd sessions and eventually video games - an important question emerges: can digital space house heterotopias? I'm sure Foucault would have considered cyberspace itself a heterotopia, if I've understood him correctly so far (and if I haven't... That sucks, cuz we're almost at the end of the essay). Can a heterotopia exist within another heterotopia? Would it be possible to peel away a layer by claiming that the digital screen - our window to the cyberspace, to the "game space" - constitutes as physical space? Is a video game, in that case, a heterotopia as well? And does that mean that by playing Pathologic we are experiencing a heterotopia, within a heterotopia, within a heterotopia? Are you tired of the "h" word yet?

Truth is, once again: I dunno. I like to believe that it is, cuz it allows me to think of Pathologic as something even cooler than I originally thought. Something even more meta. It's interesting thinking about how something that came from linguistics then went into architecture and eventually came to media entertainment. I also really like the implications that come with the significance of this concept in regards to the architect characters present within Pathologic. I wonder if they knew (given how patho is set in a dubious time, so it'd be difficult to establish if them knowing about Foucault's theories would even be possible). In part I just also felt fascinated by many people linking Pathologic to concepts within theatre (like Codex Entry, or that one post on here about Edward Gordon Craig by tumblr user erriga) and got really excited about bringing something similar to the table. I hope it sparks some discussion and brings forth some ideas from other passionate fans. Anyways.

Go read the actual stuff:

https://www.jstor.org/stable/43202545

https://www.jstor.org/stable/464648

(sorry about the links if they don't work. I'm not technologically advanced enough to figure out if smth is wrong before I post it)

#pathologic #ramblings #мор утопия #philosophy #I was supposed to pace myself #But instead I just wrote this whole thing in one sitting

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portraitsofguilt · 2 years ago

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✮ ┆ SMALL CUTS HEAL FAST. deadlock (valorant)

— “I planned for pain, but I got love and joy.”

description. (written before deadlock release) today’s mission wasn’t about being unsuccessful, but rather the fact that she hardly accepted failure

content warnings. sfw content, mention of blood, cuts, bruises, wounds, little angst but fluff non the less author’s notes. i couldn't resist, i needed to get something out fast about her because deadlock omg

the agent’s eyes lingered on your body, watching from the exam table as you reached to take the bandages that sat on the very top of the cabinet on the other side of the room. a quiet scoff left her lips, causing you to whip your head around to check on her again, making sure she wasn’t bothering the tape on her arm.

she scoffed once again when you sat next to her before muttering, “I can do this myself.” taking the bandages from you. she peeled off the temporary bandages, revealing small cuts and nicks with a layer of dried blood.

“let me, alright? we finish faster and can sleep sooner.” you gave her a reassuring smile, putting your hands over hers. she dared not to look up at you, she dreaded the thought that if she did you would see that the ambush at the warehouse tore her confidence down and replaced it with doubt. she didn’t want you to see her this weak, think of her like she couldn’t protect the other agents or even worse, you.

“what happened on the mission,” you started, slowly peeling the temporary bandages down her arm while your other hand tried to gently pry her fingers open and take the gauze pads from her. lifting up her arm you moved a little closer to her to have a better view and access to her wounds. you sighed that they weren’t that deep, leaving you with only having to rewrap it rather than stitch it up.

the first loop of cloth wrapped around her upper arm as you said, “it wasn’t you fault, everyone was led into a trap, something nobody knew of.” of course she knew that, she was just disappointed in herself that she couldn’t see the danger herself in the beginning. but she wouldn’t have admitted that to you out loud.

“that group was off the grids a few weeks now, not you or anyone could have known their next step.”

the agent turned her gaze from her hands to the opposite direction you sat, wincing a little when you accidentally tightened the bandage too tight.

“whatever else you want to say, I do not want to hear it.”

you smiled, finishing up with the wrapping. she was always stubborn like this, even with you but you loved that about her, maybe that was one of the reasons why you fell in love with her in the first place.

“you are an amazing agent, you successfully completed ever mission before. one loss doesn’t define you or your abilities.” deadlock sighed, facing your way before her fingers went and intertwined with yours.

“the ways you choose your words, always amazes me.” she said, the cold expression softening into a shy smile. you just chuckled before asking for your hand back so you could finish patching her up then prepare a warm bath for the two of you. “small cuts heal fast, they don’t leave a scar just like this won’t.” you assured her once again as the two of you leave the infirmary, hand in hand. she doesn’t say anything other than a silent “thank you.” as she squeezes your palm and swings it back and forth a little.

#📗 — written by moss !#valorant x reader #valorant deadlock #valorant deadlock x reader #deadlock x reader #deadlock x gn reader #deadlock x female reader #wlw #lesbian

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ghostingpen · 2 months ago

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hi!! i’ve been meaning to ask u abt this for a while, but the pic u posted of your 2025 journal inspired me to reach out. i would rly like to get back into using a journal as a way to organize, plan, and feel more in control of my life. i used to use a bullet journal throughout high school and college. but my situation is different now (no classes or defined work schedule) and i remember often having a hard time keeping up with it + missing a day or two and then just falling off. i also tend to be a perfectionist and get stressed out abt making The Perfect layout. ig i’m just wondering if you have any tips or advice for getting started again and figuring out a setup that feels good + manageable? i’d send this as a message but i feel this might be helpful for other ppl too. ty!!!

(rubs hands together) ty for asking >:3 i was in your boat too for a while, and what a lot of bullet journalers tend to understandably forget is that the bullet journal system is customizable and flexible. what this also means is that you can frankenstein the bullet journal method and create your system made up of sewn together components of various other methods.

if your primary goal with your notebook is feel more in control and present in your life, then it's important to view it as a second brain. it is reasonable to believe that not all brains work alike. when combining both thoughts, you can start to see the reason why many people who try the bullet journal method are unable to keep it up long-term. they try to be too rigid with the method. they expect themselves to create artsy complicated layouts that aren't actually conducive to their brain. they need to have the same notebook as other people, the same pens, the same supplies.

but each of our minds work differently. when you believe that, then it becomes easier to accept that your notebook does not have to look the same as others to be successful. you aren't failing because you're unable to work with the system the way others do. it is the current system failing you, and that simply means it's time to tweak it and change it as necessary until it becomes more compatible with your brain. maybe the size of the notebook is the problem. or the type of paper. for example: i find that tall and skinny notebooks like the traveler's notebook work best for me. but maybe you prefer big a4 sized notebooks. i also refuse to work on anything that isn't grid paper. but maybe lined paper works better for you.

for me, i use my notebook as a writer the way an artist keeps a sketchbook.

that means i don't play with the layouts unless it serves me. my creativity is expressed solely in the pages i want to be creative in, like when i'm writing fiction or sketching storyboards, but i am intentionally not creative and artistic in the basic setup.

for the basic setup, i'm using a hybrid system of the basic bullet journal method and the life hacker. my intentions are to be mindful of the goals i want to achieve and keep some memory of each day. otherwise it feels as though the month has gone on without me and before i know it, it's the next month and i remember nothing of the past few weeks.

i make sure to keep an index on the back of my notebook. i write down page numbers of pages i want to refer back to later.

i start with a "one line a day" page:

that way, if i miss a few days, i can always try to catch up and write down a single line of what i remembered that day. i also tell myself it's okay to write "i don't remember what happened" on days where that happens. in a way, that also indicates something about that day - usually that i was too depressed to engage with my interests, and that's important to log.

then i set up a basic monthly spread to track upcoming events, bills to pay, habits, tasks i want to do that month, and goals i want to achieve. i also added a d20 roll every day just for fun. if i really need the guidance, whatever i rolled that day determines how i go about with my day.

i also don't really treat it like a chore. i miss days here and there, but when that happens i just set the next day up and move on. this notebook is meant to serve me, not the other way around!

this notebook also serves as my commonplace book. if you've seen me occasionally tag posts as #commonplace, that's me saving posts to write down in my notebook. i love to save advice i appreciated, quotes that resonate with me, and other bits and bobs of information i'd want to re-read in the future.

i also like to write down my thoughts on topics that interest me. it actually is one of my biggest passions and special interests: optimizing a notebook system for myself and helping others find their system. so if you flipped through my current notebook, you'll find rambles about notebook systems and how simply following trends is ineffective.

hope this helps!! i wrote a lot more than i thought i would dfkghdf but this is a huge interest of mine.

#journal #journaling #bullet journal #planner #notebook #mine #asks #twinknote #my journal

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therealroselovejoy · 5 days ago

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Chapter Five of Run

Daryl Dixon x OC

My feet tread the same line as I pace back and forth. Milly bites her nails with anxiety and Ashley sits on Marie's lap.

"The air conditioning isn't working," Lori announces, her hand waving underneath the vent. My stomach clenches a bit tighter. How are we supposed to just act normal after Jenner told us about decontamination?

"Sit down honey. Pacing like this is only going to scare the children," Marie says to me, causing me to look over at Carl and Sophia. They're watching me with a nervous expression on both their faces.

Sighing, I go back to the room I shared with Daryl, going to my bag to make sure it's packed. The redneck is in here also, drinking more alcohol. At this rate, liver failure will kill him before the undead does.

"How 'bout you settle right down on this bed with me, Sugar Tits."

"Great, you're drunk. Again." My bag looks good and I hoist it on my back, preparing for an immediate exit. The room goes dark and I realize the lights have gone out except for the hallway.

"Why isn't the A/C working?" I hear Lori ask someone.

"And why are the lights out in our rooms?" This is Andrea.

I look out the door, seeing Jenner walking through the living quarters. Daryl presses me against the door jam, wanting to lookout as well. "Why is everything shut off?"

"Energy use is being prioritized." Jenner grabs the bottle hanging from Daryl's hand, taking a swig of it.

"Air isn't a priority? And lights?" Dale brings up.

"It's not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down."

"Hey, what the hell does that mean!" Daryl chases after him and I follow behind. "Hey man, I'm talkin' to you!"

He continues to ignore the sleeveless man. We follow him down the stairs, meeting up with the men from the group.

"Jenner, what's happening!" Rick storms towards the scientist. Jenner reiterates what he told us. We come into the lab again, the timer now at a half an hour left.

"It was the French. They were the last ones as far as I know." He hands Daryl back his bottle, looking at all of us solemnly. "While our people were bolting and committing suicide in the hallways, they were holding out. They thought they were close to a solution."

"What happened?" Jacqui asks.

"The same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuels. I mean how stupid is that?" He walks away from us, not expecting a real answer.

"Everyone pack your things! We're getting out of here now!" Rick orders. My family is already packed, Marie having followed my lead earlier. As people scatter, an alarm goes off, filling the room with red lights. Before anyone can get to the door, Jenner shuts it.

"Did you just lock us in?" Glenn asks, staring at the sealed exit.

I pull my gun out, putting against his temple. "You better open it, right now."

"We've hit the thirty-minute mark and I am recording," he says to the monitor, ignoring me. I hear Daryl run up behind me, shouting insults. Shane grabs him before he can attack the scientist.

"Put the gun down, Lilly. It's not going to do any good," Shane says to me, earning himself a glare, but I lower my weapon.

"All the emergency exits are sealed. I told you once those doors closed, there would be no going back! You heard me say that! It's better this way."

"What is?" our leader asks, incredulously at him. "What happens in twenty-eight minutes?"

When he doesn't answer, Shane hits him on the back, causing Jenner to explode. "Do you know what this place is? We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half of the country! Stuff you don't want getting out, ever!"

We're silent, looking at each other. Jenner speaks again, more collected than before. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure, in a terrorist attack for example, H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.s?"

"Vi, define."

"H.I.T.s...high impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive, except nuclear."

"How comforting," I mutter, pacing again. "At least it's not nuclear." Sobbing starts around the room, the others hugging their loved ones, figuring out that we'll all burn to death.

"It'll catch the air on fire."

"Yeah, we got that, asshole," I respond.

"There's no pain. An end to sorry, grief, regret...everything."

Daryl slams his bottle into the sealed door. "Open the damn door!" he screams. Shane runs towards it next with an ax. Someone tosses Daryl one and together they do absolutely no damage to it.

"We can't make a dent," Shane comes back, out of breath.

"These doors are created to withstand rocket launchers."

"But your head ain't!" Daryl yells, running towards him with the ax. I grab it, taking the weapon away from him. He clearly can't think well with the alcohol and normal hillbilly rage he possesses. The other men drag him backwards when he goes to launch at me to get it back.

"You do want this! You said so yourself that it was only a matter of time before everyone you loved died," Jenner says to Rick. The group glares at their leader, despite him being spot on. We're all on borrowed time.

"I had to keep hope alive," he defends himself.

"There is no hope. There never was!"

Rick stalks over to him. "Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but somebody, somewhere—"

"What part of 'everything is gone' don't you understand?" Andrea says, almost in a fetal position. She's starting to sound more and more like Milly.

"This is our extinction event."

I scoff, leaning back onto the table. "I can't believe I'm going to die and my last hookup was Redneck McGee over here."

"Really not the time to joke," Dale comments.

"This is how she copes," Marie defends, pulling Ashley closer to her. She's holding it together better than Lori and Carol. Milly, like usual, doesn't give a shit about anything.

A gun cocks, grabbing all of our attention. Shane has a shotgun pointed at Jenner. "Open that door or I'm going to blow your head off!" Rick tries to calm him down, whispering something in his ear. He screams, turning and shooting at the monitors. Our leader wrestles the weapon away from him.

"Grab that ax. Help me hit the door again," Daryl says, nodding to Shane's discarded one. Sighing, I listen, following behind him. I drop my bag before landing blow after blow against the metal. It drops down and I look back to see Jenner's hand on the dial-pad. He opened it for us.

"Let's go!" the redneck screams at me, grabbing my bag for me. I wait behind for my family.

"C'mon, why aren't you running to the door?!" I scream at them, jogging back over to the three.

"I'm staying," Milly says, not moving a muscle from the floor.

"No you aren't. You have a daughter to worry about. Get your ass up and let's go!"

She shakes her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I'm just a burden on you...Marie...this group. I'm tired of fighting a battle I've already lost!"

I look around, noticing that Jaqui and Andrea have stayed behind, too. Are these bitches crazy?

"What the fuck are you doin'?" Daryl yells, running back in for us.

"Milly doesn't want to leave," I comment.

"And what, you're goin' to stay too? No, fuck that." He gives me my bag back, picking up my twin and throwing her over his shoulder.

"Put me down! I want to die! Why won't you let me die?!" she cries out as we head towards the exterior exit.

"Just shut the fuck up. You don't get to be a coward," Daryl barks back, practically dropping her into the floor. My sister is a sobbing mess, rolling into a fetal position.

"Rick, I might have something that can help!" Carol calls out, handing Rick an actual grenade.

"Look out!" We all duck for cover, Daryl dragging Milly with him. The glass shatters from the bomb. My stomach unclenches more. We're getting out!

"Let's go!"

Daryl grabs my sister again and we head out. I cover him, taking out Walkers that get too close to us. He tosses Milly into the bed of his truck before climbing in next to me in the cab. Marie and Ashley got into the other car with Carol.

Andrea and Dale climb out, jogging towards the vehicles. One of the cars honk, Rick screaming at them to get down. It looks like the CDC is out of time.

"Everyone get down!"

Daryl leans his whole sweaty body over me, trying to shield me from the impact. A loud sound echoes through the area before a wave of heat rolls over us. We sit up, looking at where the building once stood, now just one big bonfire.

The cars start up again, prompting Daryl to follow. His hand goes out to clasp mine, but I pull it away, sitting on my hands for good measure. He glares at me, turning back to focus on the road.

Everything about this place was a damn mistake.

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