#i ended up having to move out in 2022 and i moved in with a friend and brought my cat with me but it wasn’t really planned
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hehehe
#feeling bad that i cant just be content to post something#but when i get 4 notes or 20 notes or 50 notes it's not enough#and when i get thousands of views on youtube videos it's the ones that i no longer have any attachment to#like im supposed to give a shit about capturing that lightning in a bottle when its a song im not proud of anymore#that i made at a point in my life im glad is over#ive met a couple fans who have mentioned liking kirby pride and kirbtober specifically#and it makes me so happy that they like the stuff that i still like#i knlw i should like my backlog but#to me they serve as keepsakes and nothing more#a stepping stone to where i was when i started my minecraft cover “series”#that lead me to kirby pride#which lead me to making songs easier which lead me to kirbtober#which burnt me out and lead me to I need to#which exists but only in my head#and on my computer#the album so close yet so far#every step i take towards completing it the clearer it is that the goal is at the horizon#and oh my god thats only the first half#i guess i should try not to spoil part 2 but its still too much in a concept phase#as much as i hate that#the first half is called 'I need to' and it's an album about my experiences after i graduated in 2022 and links awakening#about stagnation#wasting my time#part 2 is called 'wake up'#and it's about my choice at the end of Links awakening#to stop playing after i opened the wind fish's egg#moving past the world i knew was too hard a thought to bear#so i buried it#i havent seriously touched the game after that#and in a way that i cant explain to myself in a way other than music i feel as though i have done this
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wait im getting kinda excited to turn 23...im actually really proud of everything im doing right now. im engaged, getting my cosmo license, i have a lot of really cool new friends that treat me with the honesty and respect i deserve, i have one of the highest paying jobs among my peers rn, people respect my art and literally hundreds of people follow me to see it and some of them tell me how good it is. like yeah im very mentally ill and the world is in flames but those are two constant conditions I'll have to live with. everything else is not guaranteed, but here i am with so many things I've been trying so hard to get and have been dreaming about for years, if not most of my life.
like. i feel COOL. i feel like ive accomplished a lot and im still figuring out who i am(another constant of the human condition) but i know that whoever i am, im cool as fuck and i can get shit done
#idk girl ive been feeling kinda good about myself this week#probably bc i started doing my makeup again lol. i only wear it when im doing it as art or if i have a big ass red zit on my cheek#(like rn bc im on my period so hormonal acne is killing me)#but im making the art that i like to make and giving myself the time to do it and enjoy the process#and it comes out looking really good!! so it makes me feel good. art is good for you#i still need to post my backlog of makeup here ughhhhh. if you wanna see it rn its on my ig bark.ruffalo#idk im starting to get my confidence back. didnt realize how badly all that stuff with my parents at the end of 2022 fucked me up#now theyre moving 3 hours away! and im never giving them another cent of my money#being 21 really sucked and being 22 couldve been better for the first half but the second half? its kinda lit#anyways. my friend offered me shrooms for brat night on friday and im VERY excited for that. also excited to wear my new wig :))))))
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y'all, I feel like I've said this a lot, it is truly a joy to be a GM, but I am so fucking ready to get out of the chair and be a player again
#the goalpost keeps moving#i think i have 10 more sessions in me max#those sessions will be PACKED. have to have a mini boss fight. the breaking of a curse. the boss fight. some kind of arc resolution#that will be player driven! whatever they want to do with relations between two groups before they go north!#and THEN the long awaited audience with gil galad to hopefully broker some kind of alliance between them and tar miriel.#winter will arrive and it will see them either at sea or in lindon. hoping for lindon but they could fuck up negotiations for sure.#the problem with my notes tbh is that there is a lot of stuff in my brain but not a lot on paper#anyway. christ. what is it like just showing up to a d&d session with a character sheet and a notebook.#AKB will be 3 years old in january#i think i'm still in the hot seat until april#i love this campaign. i do i really do. but hoooooo boy. i want a real break.#this last hiatus doesn't feel like it counted because it was schedule driven and i still have to keep things spinning in my mental space.#not to mention no one GMed anything in the meantime#there was some poll recently that was about being a player for a long form campaign like what type of characters have you played#and one-shots and campaigns that fizzled out <3 sessions in don't count#i looked at that poll and was like well damn. i haven't been a player in a long form campaign since probably... 2016. GURPs 4e.#wait that's not true-- the 5e/Star Wars Saga ed hybrid campaign that was a mixed bag. scoundrel ship mechanic zabrak life.#ha! checked my notes! that ended in july 2022#i feel like that one barely counts though because my PC was wrangling the group to keep us on task (frustrating. i am a plot hound player)#these tags are out of hand#i'm just tired and struggling with stat blocks nbd#to be deleted i guess#do i need a loremaster tag?
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I am stressed :(
#IF YOU READ THESE TAGS DON'T SEND ME KOFI THINGS OR ANYTHING I JUST NEED TO VENT BEFORE I EXPLODE#(I do have stickers and stuff on redbubble tho)#my PC's bsods/crashes are worse (1 every week or so and sometimes 2 a day I've had 2 in the past 3 hours)#and I'm pretty sure the root issue is the RAM is bad#which means it has been this whole time because I no longer turn my PC off at the end of the day like I did before ~mid 2022#and I don't have $300 to buy new RAM#and idk if I can get a replacement 3 years after purchase#and even if I do I will have to open it up and pull the RAM out and have no PC for probably a few weeks#and having just my phone will absolutely fuck with me like it did when I first moved in this house#and I need 2 usb sticks to properly diagnose and possibly need to repair some corrupt windows files#which I haven't done before#And meanwhile my fucked up premolar is falling out of my jawbone and is loose and I keep bumping it and it doesn't hurt as much as it shoul#and I am near to an abscess at any given time because of it and I need to get more shots because I don't want to go#without updated vaccinations but also having a tooth removed and one or two more cavities filled is very expensive#and I don't have any income so I have $4.80 to my name#and I need to work from home because of anxiety and I can't do that while my PC is having issues#I got a bsod earlier and got in Minecraft to play a little and got a second BSOD after just 2 hours#they're RAM related (memory_management and faulty_hardware_corrupted_page#but I am worried about the side effects of this many#I can't find any suitable work anyway and I need a new photo ID and those are $50 and my weekly income from studies/surveys/etc is about#about that and I am already living on about $30 of food a week (frozen pizzas and party pies and stuff + liquid breakfasts so I get some#minerals and vitamins) and I would rather scrape by then sign up for social security because of the horrible draconian shit they put people#though just to keep a payment that is 1/4th minimum wage and not liveable in the slightest#(THE PIZZAS GIVE ME FAT PROTEIN CARBS FIBRE AND A LOT OF KJ they are efficient)#(I would love to cook)#(I budgeted out meal prepping and it came out to costing twice as much for the same food if I bought the cheapest ingredients)#( and also same amount of food I eat once a day (1/2 pizza or equiv ~300g/3000kj/700cal) and use chocolate to carry me through the middle)#(the chocolate also keeps me focused and my mood up)#every single BSOD massively spikes my anxiety and it locks me up and I just fret for a while and I am cautious about drawing because it#can happen at any time and I don't want to lose things I've worked hard on
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My aunt calls me to ask how I am, I tell her honestly I'm not doing well at all, that I hate my life, hate this neighbourhood and this building, hate this apartment, hate how I'm once again being forced to do things I'm not ready for.
Her *after making me cry yet again*: oh well I just thought I'd call but I have somewhere to be now! Bye!
#When my mum died#In august 2022#I was told almost right away that I had to leave that house#The house I'd lived in all of my life#In the end I ended up having to move in April 2023#Keyword being HAVING#I had no choice#I didn't get to pick this apartment#I didn't get to pick what it looks like#Most of the stuff here either belonged to the previous tenants#Or is stuff my social worker pulled out of thin air for me#But I didn't get to pick any of it#Someone else packed up most of my stuff#I didn't even get to pick the moving date#And I didn't get to say goodbye to anyone#And now some rich asshole has called the cops on me#Because they think I'm abusing my dog#And now the animal cops are involved#And together with my social worker#They're basically saying I have to have him put down NOW#Or they'll come back and seize him#And put him down#And I'll officially be labelled an animal abuser#I fucking hate it here
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just had to announce my cat for adoption idk WTF to even to think
#idk if i talked abt this here before#but i got my cat when i was 17 and in a very bad depressive episode#I still lived with my mom then and she hated pets but she let me have him#i ended up having to move out in 2022 and i moved in with a friend and brought my cat with me but it wasn’t really planned#but it was great!#but at the end of last year i got laid off at the same time as i fell into another very bad depressive episode AND a very bad time#with my autoimmune diseases#it became unsustainable to live w my friend in that city financially#and a couple months ago i moved back in with my mom in my hometown#she just won’t let him live with us#and my grandma had said she’d stay with him until i could move out again#but she decided she won’t#so now i just have to fucking give him away#and this is gonna fucking destroy me#I’ve had him since he was like two weeks old it’s been almost three years now#idk what to even fucking do to process this#mars talks#sorry that this is a bummer
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#tag talk#if I can make it through the next two weeks I'll be alright. but damn if it isn't gonna be rough#court date next week and dr appointment the week after. but then I'll be back on track with changing my name and then getting hrt#big changes. but changes I need. changes I tried to start back in February.#I try to have yearly goals. big overarching themes and shit. 2022 was just getting away from my patents and accepting being trans#and then it ended up being a year for processing old trauma. which uhh. really culminated in the February attempt to end all that shit#but February was the start of the new year for me. the start of getting all that personal work externalized. being out and unapologetic#the move this summer has thrown things a little out of shape but I'm working to get it back on the rails#if I can get things sorted by the end of this year then next year is the start of forever for me.#it really will be a “first day of the rest of our lives” vibe. new name. finally getting the meds I need. idk exactly how hrt will go though#I need to do independent research to see if I need to go through health provider or if I can find a clinic independently#been meaning to do that for a hot while but I have been so overwhelmed with other stuff I haven't had the energy.#but like. looking back it hasn't been bad. I was afraid I would lose this year to the move. but that's adhd time blindness speaking#even if it takes four months to move and mentally recover that leaves eight still. that's still a lot of time. I have time to work with#every day I'm still alive is a day I have available to get done the things I want to in order to live happily.#sure I'm damaged as fuck. but that doesn't mean I can't get some good work done. I can make friends and have fun and help people#idk. I'm still in a melancholy state from the heavy dissociation I experienced on edibles. I think I might not do that again#losing control of my head isn't great because my default is suicidal and depressed which isn't super pogchamp of me#I'm gonna do it again once more just to have a second experience because a single data point isn't good data so I want two.#but I don't expect to want to do it anymore. I wonder if the high amounts of stress and anticipation I'm experiencing right now affect it#of course it would. prior mental state of going to affect the trip. that's kinda obvious I guess. maybe I try it again in two weeks#anyway. life keeps going and there is no expectation to fall behind on. falling behind means there's an acceptable pace. which is false#well. that's not true. capitalism and all that. there's a minimum pace for somebody. but that's where community comes in to help I guess#I'm rambling now. bye I'm gonna go take a shower and be really sad about having a dick and balls#it's tragic cause they're really nice dick and balls too. Just not for me. I wanna be a cool guy without even a single ball to his name#is that too much to ask? I just wanna be a man who's a woman who's a man but in a different way than the first time he was.#also. I'm tired of straight guys on dating apps hitting me up. like bro I know you're just gonna want to view me as a woman. no deal#bro is gonna have to be at least a little gay. cause I am not gonna swing like that. better be at least a little bi#some dude's bio was like “let me love the woman inside of you” and like. no thanks please go obsess over femininity somewhere else#straight guys who include nonbinary in their profile because they really just see it as woman 2: gender boogaloo ☠️
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Controversially Young Girlfriend
Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader
series masterlist & main masterlist
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men.
warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns.
warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33
authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3
Part one: breakup and new beginnings
Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more.
Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million.
By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything.
Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it.
Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends.
-
“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here.
“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two.
“You’re right.”
“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier.
“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…”
Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen.
“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy.
“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes.
“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.”
“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you.
“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly.
“Hm..Well I give it a week.”
-
After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences.
The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off.
“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up.
You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had.
A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you.
“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures.
“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face.
“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly.
“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman.
“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.”
“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces.
“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling.
“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out.
“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone.
“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up.
“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward.
“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off.
“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug.
“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up.
“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt.
The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out.
-
Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy.
Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;)
The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back.
While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest.
Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)
Thank you for reading <3
part two
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman x y/n#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman fluff#hugh jackman fic#hugh jackman x female reader#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman oneshot#hugh jackman x popstar!reader#popstar!reader#f!reader#afab reader
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Do-Over
Logan Sargeant x Andretti!Reader
Summary: Logan drowns his sorrows after being dropped by Williams and passes out in 2024 … he wakes up slightly hungover and very much in 2022 (aka the time travel fix-it fic)
Logan’s hands are shaking.
He’s staring at the email on his phone, reading it over for the third time, hoping the words will somehow rearrange themselves into something different. But they don’t. The screen doesn’t lie, and neither does the cold, detached tone of James Vowles.
Logan, I’m sorry to inform you that Williams Racing has decided to terminate your contract effective immediately. Your performance this season has not met the team’s expectations, and the decision has been made to move forward without you for the remaining races. We believe this is in the best interest of the team as a whole. You’ll find the details of the termination and the necessary steps moving forward in the attached document.
His eyes blur, and he forces himself to blink, trying to hold it together. He knows what this means — his F1 career, the thing he’s worked for his entire life, is over. And it’s not ending with a bang, but with a fucking email.
A knock on the door snaps him back to the present. He looks up, swallowing hard as James walks in without waiting for permission, just like he always does.
“Logan,” James begins, his voice calm, almost clinical. “We need to talk.”
“I got the email,” Logan mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Is this really how it’s going to end?”
James’s face is unreadable. “We’ve discussed this at length. The crashes, the lack of progress … it’s just not working out. The engineers and mechanics are frustrated. We’ve been more than patient.”
Logan feels a wave of anger rising in his chest, but he pushes it down. He knows it won’t help. “So that’s it? Nine races left, and you’re just … dropping me?”
“It’s not an easy decision,” James replies, crossing his arms. “But we have to think about the team. We can’t afford any more setbacks.”
“Setbacks,” Logan echoes, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “That’s all I am to you? A setback?”
James hesitates, his expression softening for just a moment. “Logan, you’re talented, but this sport is ruthless. You know that.”
“Don’t,” Logan snaps, his voice sharp. “Don’t try to soften the blow now. You could’ve at least told me in person, before sending the damn email.”
James sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know it seems cold, but this is the reality of Formula 1. You’ll land on your feet. You’ve got potential.”
“Potential,” Logan mutters under his breath. “That’s not going to get me back in a car, is it?”
There’s a tense silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of them. Logan feels like the walls are closing in, the air in the room growing thicker with each passing second.
“I’m sorry,” James says finally, and for the first time, he sounds genuine. “I really am.”
“Yeah,” Logan replies, his voice hollow. “Me too.”
James lingers for a moment, as if searching for something else to say, but there’s nothing that can fix this. Nothing that can make it right. Finally, he nods and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.
Logan stands there, staring at the door, his mind racing. This can’t be happening. It feels like some kind of nightmare, one he can’t wake up from. But the harsh reality is setting in. It’s over. All those years, all that effort, and it’s over just like that.
He sinks down onto the couch, his head in his hands. His chest feels tight, like he can’t get a full breath. He needs to get out of here, but he has no idea where to go. Where do you go when your dreams have just been crushed?
His gaze falls on the bottle of whiskey sitting on the small kitchen counter. He bought it a few years ago, intending to open it after a win that never came. The irony isn’t lost on him.
Logan pushes himself up and walks over to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle and a glass. He hesitates for a moment, then shrugs and puts the glass back. What’s the point of pretending there’s any dignity left in this?
He twists the cap off the bottle and takes a long drink, the burn of the alcohol offering a brief distraction from the pain gnawing at his insides. He leans against the counter, staring out the window at the darkening sky. How the hell did it come to this?
He’s replaying every mistake, every missed opportunity, every race where he could’ve done better. It’s a torturous cycle, one that he can’t escape. He takes another drink, then another, hoping to drown out the thoughts, to numb the ache in his chest.
But it doesn’t work. The alcohol just makes it worse, amplifying the guilt and the regret. He feels like a failure. No, he is a failure. The team didn’t even have the decency to let him finish the season. That’s how little they think of him.
The room starts to blur around the edges as the whiskey takes effect, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. He’s spiraling, and he knows it, but he doesn’t care. This is the only way he knows how to cope, the only way to forget, even if it’s just for a little while.
Hours pass, or maybe minutes — he’s lost track of time. The bottle is nearly empty now, and he’s slumped on the floor, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. What’s the point?
The apartment is silent except for the occasional sound of cars passing by outside. It’s eerie, this quiet, and it makes the emptiness inside him feel even more profound.
Finally, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. The screen is cracked from a previous fall — one of many — but it still works. There are messages from friends, from his family, but he doesn’t open them. He knows what they’ll say. They’ll be supportive, encouraging, but it won’t change anything. They can’t fix this.
Instead, he opens his camera roll and scrolls through the photos. Pictures of him in the car, of the team, of moments that once meant everything to him. Now they’re just reminders of what he’s lost.
He stops on a photo of himself, taken just after he signed with Williams. He looks so damn happy, so full of hope. He barely recognizes that person now.
“What a joke,” he mutters to himself, his voice slurred. “What a fucking joke.”
He takes one last drink from the bottle, then tosses it aside, not caring as it rolls across the floor. He feels the darkness closing in, pulling him under, and for once, he doesn’t fight it. He lets it take him, lets it drown out the pain, the regret, the fear.
And as he finally drifts into unconsciousness, the last thought that crosses his mind is that maybe — just maybe — he deserves this.
***
Logan wakes with a start, his head pounding, the taste of stale whiskey thick on his tongue. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut against the assault of the light streaming through the windows. His whole body feels like it’s been put through a blender — sore, achy, heavy. But it’s not just the hangover, it’s the weight of everything, of what happened yesterday.
He takes a deep breath, bracing himself as he sits up, his hands pressing into the bed beneath him. Except, the texture’s wrong. It’s not the rough fabric of his apartment’s couch or even the smooth, cool sheets he’s used to.
Logan’s eyes snap open, and he looks around, confusion crashing over him like a cold wave. He’s not in his apartment. The walls are different — cleaner, the color a familiar light blue he hasn’t seen in years. The bed is narrow, uncomfortable, with plain white sheets. There’s a desk pushed against the far wall, a locker in the corner with his name printed on it in block letters.
This isn’t his apartment. This is … his driver’s room. The one he used when he was driving for Carlin in Formula 2.
“What the hell …” Logan mutters, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it. He must still be drunk. Or maybe he’s dreaming. But no — he can feel the dull ache in his temples, the dryness in his throat, the uncomfortable press of the mattress beneath him. This is too real to be a dream.
But it doesn’t make any sense. The last thing he remembers is passing out in his apartment after finishing nearly a whole bottle of whiskey. He was a mess. He is a mess. But here he is, waking up in a place he hasn’t seen since 2022, a place that shouldn’t exist in his present reality.
Panic starts to set in. He fumbles for his phone, which is miraculously still in his pocket. The screen lights up, showing the date and time.
September 10th, 2022.
His heart stops. That’s impossible. It’s been two years. Two years since this date. His mind races, trying to piece together what the hell is happening, but nothing fits. He’s not in 2024 anymore. Somehow, he’s back in 2022.
It’s the only explanation, but it’s insane. None of this is possible. It’s not even like those vague dreams where everything’s familiar but distant. This is his life two years ago, down to the worn fabric of the team jacket hanging on the back of the door.
Before he can spiral any further, there’s a sharp knock at the door. Logan barely has time to react before it swings open, and Gary Catt, his manager, strides in with his usual briskness, already talking before the door is fully open.
“Logan, I just got off the phone with Jost Capito,” Gary says, his voice all business, not noticing Logan’s stunned expression. “Williams wants you. They want to lock you in for next season. It’s the best possible scenario. This is it, Logan — this is what we’ve been working toward.”
Logan feels like he’s been hit by a freight train. This conversation — he remembers it. It happened. Gary, standing in this very room, telling him the exact same thing, with the exact same excitement in his voice. The memory is vivid because it changed everything. It was the start of his F1 career. And also … the start of everything that led to that email.
“Logan?” Gary’s voice cuts through the fog in Logan’s mind, pulling him back to the present. “Are you even listening? This is huge, mate. You’re going to be in F1.”
Logan’s throat is dry, his mind racing with possibilities, with consequences. He remembers how he felt the first time he heard these words — pure elation, followed by a rush of nerves. But now, with the knowledge of what’s to come, all he feels is dread.
This is his chance to change things. To make sure it doesn’t end the way it did yesterday. He’s been given a do-over, a second chance, and he can’t afford to mess it up.
Logan takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “Gary,” he says, his voice rough from sleep and the alcohol, “I don’t think I should take the offer.”
Gary stops mid-stride, turning to face Logan with a look of utter disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“I don’t think I should take the offer,” Logan repeats, more firmly this time, even though his heart is pounding in his chest. “It’s too soon.”
“Too soon?” Gary looks at him like he’s just sprouted another head. “Logan, this is Williams. It’s F1. There is no such thing as ‘too soon’ when an opportunity like this comes around. What are you talking about?”
Logan stands up, pacing the small room, trying to gather his thoughts. How does he explain this without sounding completely insane? He can’t tell Gary what he knows — what he’s seen, what’s happened. But he also can’t go down the same path again. Not when he knows where it leads.
“I just … I don’t think I’m ready,” Logan says, finally turning to face Gary. “If I rush into F1 now, it could end badly. I need more time. More experience.”
Gary’s expression shifts from disbelief to concern. “Logan, listen to yourself. You’ve been preparing for this your whole life. You’re as ready as anyone can be. If you pass this up, there’s no guarantee another chance like it will come along. You know that.”
Logan shakes his head. “I know it sounds crazy, but … I have a feeling that if I take this now, it’ll be a mistake. A big one. I’ll end up in a situation where I’m not able to deliver, where the pressure is too much. And that’s not good for anyone — me, the team, my career.”
Gary is silent for a long moment, studying Logan with an intensity that makes him squirm. “Where’s this coming from? You were over the moon about this before. What changed?”
Logan hesitates, searching for the right words. “I just … I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. About what I want my career to look like. And I don’t want to be one of those drivers who gets rushed into F1 and then crashes out because they weren’t ready. I want to do it right. I want to be fully prepared.”
“You don’t get to be fully prepared in this sport,” Gary says, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “This is Formula 1. It’s sink or swim, and you know that. You’re not going to get a better opportunity than this, Logan.”
Logan feels a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. He knows Gary is right, in a way. This is F1. It’s not supposed to be easy. But he also knows that if he takes this offer, if he goes down the same road, it’ll end in disaster.
“I get that,” Logan says, his voice firm. “But I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to take the seat. Not this time.”
Gary stares at him, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. “Logan, this could be career suicide. You understand that, right?”
Logan nods, swallowing hard. “I do. But I’d rather take that risk than go into something I know I’m not ready for and crash out in a blaze of failure. I can’t do that. I won’t.”
Gary runs a hand over his face, clearly struggling to comprehend what’s happening. “This isn’t like you. You’re not one to back down from a challenge. Why are you doing this?”
Because I know how it ends, Logan thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he takes a deep breath and says, “Because I want to do this right. I want to have a long career in F1, not a short one that ends in disappointment. And to do that, I need to be smart about the choices I make now.”
Gary lets out a slow breath, clearly conflicted. “This is … I don’t even know what to say, Logan. You’re turning down a seat in F1. That’s not something you do lightly.”
“I’m not doing it lightly,” Logan assures him, though his heart is racing. “I’ve thought about this a lot, and it’s the right decision for me.”
There’s a long silence as Gary processes this. Logan can almost see the gears turning in his head, the calculations, the weighing of options. He knows how hard this must be for Gary to accept — hell, it’s hard for Logan to accept, and he’s the one making the decision. But he has to stick to his guns. He has to believe that this is the right choice.
Finally, Gary lets out a resigned sigh. “Alright, Logan. If this is really what you want, I’ll back you. But you need to understand the risks. This could close doors for you. Big ones.”
Logan nods, his stomach twisting with anxiety. “I know. But I also know that if I take this now, it could end up closing even more doors in the long run.”
Gary studies him for a long moment, then gives a slow nod. “Alright. I’ll let Jost know. But don’t expect him to be happy about it.”
Logan feels a mixture of relief and dread. “I won’t. But thanks, Gary. I know this isn’t easy.”
Gary gives him a tight smile, still clearly grappling with the decision. “No, it’s not. But you’re the one driving the car, Logan. Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”
Logan nods, watching as Gary turns and leaves the room, the door closing softly behind him. He stands there for a moment, taking in the silence, the surrealness of what just happened. He’s just turned down a seat in F1. The one thing he thought he wanted more than anything. But as the anxiety ebbs, a new feeling takes its place — determination.
This time, things are going to be different. He’s going to do it right, even if it means making the hard choices. Logan takes a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over him. This is his second chance, and he’s not going to waste it.
***
The 2023 F2 season ends in a flurry of champagne, confetti, and flashing cameras. Logan stands on the top step of the podium, the P1 trophy clutched in his hands, a grin splitting his face. He’s done it. He’s proved to everyone — most of all to himself — that he was ready. This time, he didn’t rush, didn’t let the pressure consume him. And it’s paid off. He’s the Formula 2 Drivers’ Champion.
But as the celebration winds down and reality sets in, Logan faces a new challenge. Despite his victory, the F1 grid is full, and F2 champions can’t return to the series. He could take a reserve role, bide his time, wait for a seat to open up. But that’s not what he wants. He’s not willing to spend another year on the sidelines, waiting for an opportunity that may never come.
So when the offer from IndyCar comes, Logan doesn’t hesitate. He’s heard the stories — about the speed, the fierce competition, the thrill of racing on ovals. It’s not Formula 1, but it’s still racing at the highest level. And right now, that’s what he needs.
The decision surprises everyone. The media buzzes with speculation, but Logan remains focused. He knows what he’s doing. This is a new path, one that he’s chosen for himself, not because it was expected of him. He’s determined to make it work.
A few weeks later, Logan finds himself in the heart of Indianapolis, standing outside the office of Mario Andretti. The legendary name still carries a weight of history and reverence, even in this new world of racing. It feels surreal, like stepping into a different era of motorsport.
Inside the office, Mario is all business. The contract is laid out on the table between them, a simple piece of paper that represents Logan’s future. Mario goes over the details with the kind of thoroughness that only comes from years of experience, but Logan can barely focus. His mind is racing, thoughts darting between the past season, the unknown future, and the thrill of what he’s about to embark on.
“Everything looks good?” Mario asks, breaking Logan from his thoughts.
Logan blinks, then nods, forcing himself to concentrate. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”
Mario slides the pen across the table. “Then let’s make it official.”
Logan takes the pen, feeling the weight of the moment as he signs his name at the bottom of the contract. It’s done. He’s an IndyCar driver now.
Mario nods in approval, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Welcome to the team, Logan. We’re excited to have you.”
“Thank you,” Logan says, meaning it. This is a new beginning, and he’s ready for it.
They shake hands, and Mario stands, motioning towards the door. “I’d love to chat more, but I’ve got to head out. My granddaughter’s picking me up for lunch.”
Logan heads out of the office, his mind still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions. He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the person rounding the corner until it’s too late. They collide, and Logan’s first instinct is to reach out, steadying the person as they stumble backward.
“Whoa, I’m so sorry,” he blurts out, his hands gripping her arms as he helps her regain her balance.
“It’s okay,” you reply, laughing softly as you look up at him. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Logan’s breath catches in his throat as he looks down at you, the apology dying on his lips. You’re beautiful — stunning, even — with eyes that seem to sparkle with life and a smile that’s warm and inviting. For a moment, all he can do is stare, struck by how perfect you seem, like someone who’s stepped straight out of a dream.
“You alright?” You ask, tilting your head slightly as you study him.
Logan snaps out of it, quickly releasing his hold on you and stepping back. “Yeah, sorry again. I didn’t see you there.”
The door to Mario’s office opens, and the man himself steps out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the scene. “Everything okay out here?”
You turn to your grandfather, smiling brightly. “Just a little bump, Grandpa. Nothing to worry about.”
Mario’s expression softens as he looks at you, the sternness replaced by affection. “Good. I don’t want anyone getting hurt before lunch.”
You laugh, the sound light and carefree, and Logan finds himself smiling along, despite the awkwardness of the situation.
“Logan,” Mario says, turning to him, “I’d like you to meet my granddaughter.”
Logan’s heart skips a beat. This is Mario’s granddaughter? Of course, she is. It makes sense now, the confidence in your stance, the way you carry yourself. You’re part of a racing dynasty, just like Mario.
“Logan Sargeant,” Mario continues, introducing him to you. “He’s going to be racing with us next season.”
You offer him your hand, your smile never faltering. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Logan takes your hand, feeling a jolt of electricity as your fingers brush against his. “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you too.”
You glance at Mario, then back at Logan. “We’re heading out for lunch. You should join us.”
Logan’s mind goes blank for a second, and all he can do is blink at you, trying to process what you just said. “Lunch? With you and … Mr. Andretti?”
You laugh again, and Logan thinks it might be the best sound he has ever heard. “Yeah, with us. Unless you have somewhere else you need to be?”
“No, no,” Logan stammers, trying to regain some composure. “I’d love to join you.”
Mario claps Logan on the shoulder, his laughter booming through the hallway. “Looks like you’ve made an impression already, kid. Come on, let’s get out of here before the press catches wind of this.”
Logan nods, still somewhat dazed as he follows you and Mario out of the building. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts — about the contract he just signed, the new chapter he’s stepping into, and now, about you. He can’t quite believe his luck. Not only is he starting a new adventure in IndyCar, but he’s also just met someone who, in the span of a few minutes, has completely captivated him.
As they walk to Mario’s car, Logan steals glances at you, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. You seem so at ease, chatting with your grandfather, your laughter punctuating the conversation. There’s a lightness about you, a warmth that’s infectious, and Logan finds himself drawn to it, to you.
“Logan,” you say, turning to him as you reach the car. “So, what made you decide to join IndyCar? It’s not every day an F2 champion makes that leap.”
Logan pauses, caught off guard by the directness of your question. “Well, uh,” he begins, trying to find the right words, “I guess I just wanted something different. F1 wasn’t an option, and I didn’t want to sit around waiting for a seat to open up. IndyCar seemed like the right challenge. Something new, but still competitive.”
You nod, clearly intrigued. “That makes sense. It’s a bold move, but I think it’ll pay off.”
“Bold,” Logan repeats, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is,” you assure him, your eyes sparkling. “I admire people who take risks. Especially when they’re as calculated as yours seems to be.”
Mario clears his throat, a knowing grin on his face as he watches the two of you. “Alright, kids, enough shop talk. Let’s get some food.”
You and Logan exchange a smile before sliding into the back seat of the car. The conversation flows easily, despite Logan’s initial nerves. You ask him about his time in F2, what it was like racing on the different tracks, how he handled the pressure. Logan finds himself opening up more than he expected, the words coming easily under your encouraging gaze.
Mario chimes in every now and then, adding his own insights, but it’s clear he’s content to let the two of you do most of the talking. He watches with an amused glint in his eye, as if he’s already figured out something that Logan is just beginning to realize.
By the time you reach the restaurant, Logan feels like he’s known you for much longer than the short time you’ve actually spent together. There’s an ease between you that he’s rarely felt with anyone else, a connection that seems to have sparked almost instantly.
Inside the restaurant, Mario insists on taking the head of the table, leaving you and Logan to sit across from each other. As you settle in, you continue to ask Logan questions, but now they’re more personal — what does he do outside of racing? What’s his favorite movie? Does he have any hidden talents?
Logan answers as best he can, though he’s still reeling a bit from how quickly this day has turned into something he never expected. He’s just signed with IndyCar, but more than that, he’s sitting across from someone who makes his heart race faster than any car ever could.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Logan,” Mario says suddenly, breaking into the conversation. “I’ve seen a lot of young drivers come and go, but you … you’ve got something special. Just keep your focus, and you’ll go far.”
“Thank you, Mr. Andretti,” Logan says, his voice sincere. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
“Call me Mario,” he replies with a wave of his hand. “We’re family now, after all.”
Logan smiles, feeling a warmth spread through him at the word “family.” It’s strange, how quickly things have shifted, how he’s gone from a solitary driver trying to make his way in the world to someone who might actually belong here, in this new place, with these new people.
As the lunch continues, Logan finds himself growing more comfortable, the initial awkwardness fading away. You keep the conversation lively, sharing stories about your grandfather, about your own life, and Logan can’t help but be drawn to your passion, your intelligence, your warmth. It’s clear that you’re not just Mario Andretti’s granddaughter — you’re your own person, with your own dreams and ambitions.
Eventually, the meal winds down, and Mario excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving you and Logan alone at the table. The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, but charged, filled with the unspoken things neither of you have quite put into words yet.
“So,” you say, leaning forward slightly, a teasing smile on your lips, “what do you think of Indy so far?”
Logan grins, feeling a boldness he didn’t expect. “Well, it just got a whole lot more interesting.”
You laugh, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m glad to hear it. I have a feeling you’re going to fit in just fine here.”
“Yeah,” Logan says, his voice softening as he looks at you, really looks at you. “I think I am too.”
You hold his gaze, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. For a moment, the world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, caught in this moment that feels almost like fate.
Before the silence can stretch too long, Mario returns, his phone call finished. He glances between the two of you, his eyes twinkling with a knowing look that makes Logan’s ears burn. “Ready to head out?”
You nod, standing up and giving Logan one last, lingering smile. “It was nice meeting you, Logan. I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”
Logan stands as well, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Definitely. I’m looking forward to it.”
As you and Mario head out of the restaurant, Logan lingers for a moment, watching you go. He can’t quite believe what just happened, but one thing is certain — his life just got a lot more complicated, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
As he walks out into the bright sunlight, Logan can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. He’s taken a leap into the unknown, and it feels like the start of something incredible.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening, vibrating through the very core of the Speedway as Logan crosses the finish line first. It’s the 107th running of the Indianapolis 500, and he’s just won it. The realization hits him like a tidal wave, almost knocking the breath out of him. He’s an Indy 500 champion. In his rookie season, no less.
The engine growls as he coasts to a stop, and for a moment, all he can do is sit there, hands trembling on the steering wheel. His heart pounds in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he lets out a breathless laugh, disbelief and elation mingling into something indescribable.
“Logan Sargeant wins the Indy 500!” The announcer’s voice echoes through the speakers, barely audible over the cheers of the crowd. He hears it, but it still feels surreal, like something out of a dream.
The pit crew rushes over, the celebration already in full swing as they haul him out of the car. He’s immediately surrounded by a sea of people — team members, media, officials — everyone wanting a piece of this historic moment. But through it all, there’s one thing on his mind. One person.
You.
He’s searching the crowd, trying to spot you among the chaos. His vision is blurred with sweat and tears, but then he sees you — pushing your way through the throng of people, a look of pure joy on your face. You’re clapping, laughing, your eyes shining with pride, and all Logan can think is how he needs to get to you.
But first, there’s tradition to uphold.
One of the crew hands him the iconic bottle of milk, the symbol of victory. Logan takes it, still in a daze, and tilts it back, taking a long swig. The cold liquid is refreshing, cutting through the heat of the moment, and he can’t help but laugh as he lowers the bottle, milk dripping down his chin.
Without hesitation, he lifts the bottle above his head and pours the rest over himself. The milk runs down his face, soaking into his race suit, and the crowd goes wild, the noise level somehow reaching new heights. He feels on top of the world — unstoppable, invincible.
And then he spots you again, closer now, just on the edge of the crowd. Logan doesn’t think, doesn’t pause to consider anything else. He just moves, pushing through the throng of people until he’s standing right in front of you.
You’re smiling up at him, eyes bright with something that makes his heart race faster than it did on the final lap. Before he can stop himself, Logan reaches out, pulls you in, and kisses you.
It’s the kind of kiss that’s been building for months — the culmination of all the moments, all the glances, all the unspoken words between you. You taste like the victory he’s just claimed, like the adrenaline that’s still pumping through his veins, like everything he’s been chasing since he first set foot in this world.
When you finally pull back, you’re both breathless, milk dripping from Logan’s face and onto yours. You laugh, and the sound is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard.
“You’re lucky I’m not lactose intolerant,” you tease, licking the milk from his lips with a grin that’s both playful and suggestive. “But honestly? It’d be worth it even if I was.”
Logan laughs, a deep, full-bodied sound that comes from a place of pure, unfiltered happiness. He feels like he’s floating, like nothing in the world could possibly bring him down from this high. Not now, not ever.
“Best win of my life,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, still holding you close, as if afraid that letting go might make this moment disappear.
You tilt your head, still smiling up at him with those eyes that have captivated him from the start. “I’d hope so,” you say softly. “You just won the Indy 500.”
He shakes his head, a playful grin on his face. “No, I mean this.” He gestures between the two of you, the words hanging in the air, heavy with meaning.
For a second, you just stare at him, the noise of the crowd fading into the background, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. And then you’re laughing, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss.
This one is softer, sweeter — less about the heat of the moment and more about the connection between you, the way everything just seems to fit when you’re together. Logan loses himself in it, in you, in this moment that feels like the culmination of everything he’s ever wanted.
When you finally break apart, the noise of the crowd floods back in, the celebration continuing around you. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except the way you’re looking at him, like he’s the only person in the world.
“Come on,” you say, tugging him towards the podium. “You’ve got a trophy to collect.”
Logan follows, still holding onto your hand, not willing to let you go just yet. The team is waiting, cheering him on, and as they hoist him up onto their shoulders, Logan realizes that this — this moment, this feeling — is what he’s been racing for all along.
Standing on the podium, the trophy in his hands, Logan looks out at the sea of faces, at the fans cheering his name, at the team celebrating their victory. But his eyes find you in the crowd, and that’s where they stay.
You’re smiling up at him, and Logan knows, deep down, that this is just the beginning. The beginning of something incredible, something he never saw coming but can’t imagine living without.
As the anthem plays and the confetti rains down, Logan lifts the trophy high, his heart full to bursting. He’s done it — he’s won the Indy 500. But more than that, he’s found something, someone, who makes all of it mean so much more.
And as he looks down at you, standing there with that bright, beautiful smile, Logan knows that he’s not just a champion. He’s the luckiest guy in the world.
***
The soft hum of the office fills the silence as Logan sits across from Mario, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. The past year has been a whirlwind — plenty of IndyCar wins, that unforgettable victory at the Indy 500, and the life he’s built with you by his side. It’s been everything he didn’t know he needed, but now, as he sits in Mario’s office, there’s an air of something significant, something life-altering in the way Mario looks at him.
Mario clears his throat, leaning forward on his desk, hands clasped. “Logan,” he begins, voice steady, serious. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking — planning, actually — and I need to talk to you about something important.”
Logan’s heart skips a beat, the weight of Mario’s words sinking in. He nods, leaning forward slightly, feeling the anticipation coil tight in his chest. “What is it?” He asks, voice steady despite the flurry of nerves.
Mario takes a deep breath, then looks Logan squarely in the eye. “We’re buying Haas F1 Team. The deal’s already in motion, and we’ll be restructuring everything from the ground up to make our entrance into Formula 1 in 2026.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Logan’s breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, he’s not sure if he’s heard Mario correctly. “Formula 1?” He echoes, almost disbelieving. His mind races, a thousand thoughts colliding at once. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as it gets,” Mario replies, his expression unwavering. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Logan. And now, with everything coming together, it’s finally happening. But here’s the thing-” he pauses, his gaze locking onto Logan’s with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt, “I can’t think of anyone better suited to lead this team as our driver than you.”
The words hit Logan like a freight train. He stares at Mario, unable to speak, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. Formula 1 has always been the dream, the pinnacle of everything he’s worked for. The chance he thought he’d lost — twice, if he counts the strange twist of fate that had brought him here in the first place.
“Logan, I know this is a lot to take in,” Mario continues, his tone softer now, understanding. “But I believe in you. You’ve proven yourself time and time again, in F2, in IndyCar — hell, you won the Indy 500 in your first season. And I know you still have that fire for F1. This is your shot, kid. And I want you to take it.”
Logan feels the lump in his throat as Mario’s words sink in. The room seems to close in around him, the gravity of the moment pressing down like a physical weight. He’s had a lot of success in IndyCar, more than he ever imagined, and it brought him you — his reason to smile, his anchor in the storm. But Formula 1? That’s the dream he’s never fully let go of, even when he tried to convince himself otherwise.
He swallows hard, forcing the words out past the emotion threatening to choke him. “I-I don’t know what to say,” he admits, his voice thick. “I mean, this is … I didn’t think I’d ever get another chance like this.”
Mario smiles, the kind of smile that’s equal parts pride and encouragement. “I know it’s a lot, Logan. And it’s not an easy decision, especially considering everything you’ve built here in IndyCar. But I have no doubt in my mind that you’re the right person for this. You’ve got what it takes to succeed in F1, and I’m not just talking about talent. You’ve got heart, determination, and the ability to learn from your mistakes. That’s what makes a champion.”
Logan’s mind races, the possibilities spinning out in front of him. He thinks about everything he’s worked for, everything he’s achieved. And then he thinks about you — how you’ve been there with him through it all, supporting him, believing in him even when he doubted himself.
He takes a deep breath, his decision already forming in his mind, solidifying with each passing second. “Okay,” he says, meeting Mario’s gaze head-on. “I’ll do it. I want this, Mario. I want to prove to myself that I can do it right this time.”
Mario’s grin widens, and he stands up, offering Logan his hand. “Welcome to Andretti F1 Team. We’re going to do great things together.”
Logan shakes his hand, the reality of it all starting to settle in. He’s going to be a Formula 1 driver again. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, everything he’s ever wanted all over again. As he stands there, absorbing the magnitude of what’s just happened, he feels a strange mix of emotions — elation, fear, anticipation, and something else that he can’t quite name.
Mario walks him to the door, still talking about the next steps, the plans they have for the team, but Logan’s mind is half-focused on something else, someone else. As the door swings open, the conversation comes to a halt. The sight that greets them both brings a grin to Mario’s face and a burst of laughter from Logan.
You’re standing there, your ear pressed to the door, looking guilty as hell when you realize you’ve been caught. You straighten up quickly, trying to play it off, but the blush spreading across your cheeks gives you away.
“Eavesdropping, huh?” Logan teases, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. There’s a lightness in his voice that wasn’t there moments ago, the news already settling into a place of excitement rather than apprehension.
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile, but failing miserably. “I, um … I might have been curious,” you admit, your eyes twinkling with mischief.
Mario chuckles, shaking his head. “Looks like we’ve got a new team spy, Logan. Better watch out.”
Logan can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He steps out of the office, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “You know, you didn’t have to spy,” he says, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I would’ve told you everything.”
You look up at him, your smile fading slightly as something more serious takes its place in your eyes. “I just … I wanted to know if it was good news,” you say quietly. “I know how much F1 means to you.”
Logan feels his heart clench at your words, at the sincerity in your voice. You’ve always understood him, always known what drives him, what keeps him going. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “It’s great news,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m getting a second shot at F1, and I’m not going to mess it up this time.”
Your smile returns, bright and full of the same determination he feels. “I know you won’t,” you say confidently. “You’re going to do amazing things, Logie. And I’ll be right there with you.”
Logan’s chest tightens with emotion, the intensity of the moment overwhelming him. He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with gratitude. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Good thing you won’t have to find out,” you reply, your tone teasing but laced with affection.
Logan’s heart swells, and before he can stop himself, he lifts you off your feet, spinning you around in a circle. You yelp in surprise, then burst into laughter, the sound filling the hallway.
He sets you down gently, your laughter fading into a soft smile as you look up at him. There’s a moment of quiet, the world around you fading away as the reality of what’s happening sinks in. Logan leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s both tender and passionate, a promise of what’s to come.
When you finally pull back, breathless and smiling, Logan feels a sense of calm settle over him. Everything is falling into place, and for the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.
With you by his side, he knows he can face whatever comes next.
“Ready to take on the world?” You ask, your voice light but your eyes serious.
Logan grins, squeezing your hand. “As long as I’ve got you, I’m ready for anything.”
And with that, he leads you down the hallway, the future stretching out before him, bright and full of promise.
***
The sun is barely up, casting long shadows across the Albert Park Circuit, but the air is already alive with anticipation. It’s the first day of preseason testing for the 2026 Formula 1 season, and the paddock is buzzing with the usual mix of excitement and nerves.
Teams are unpacking crates, engineers are huddled over laptops, and the unmistakable scent of burning rubber is already in the air. But for Logan, walking through the paddock with you on his arm, it feels like stepping into a dream — one he’s worked too damn hard to make a reality.
He adjusts the collar of his Andretti jacket, the weight of the moment not lost on him. This is it. His second chance — though, thanks to the bizarre twist of fate, no one else knows it’s his second. Everyone around him sees a rookie, an American hopeful making his debut with Andretti’s new F1 team. But Logan knows better. He’s here with experience that no one can fathom, and he’s determined not to waste it.
As you walk beside him, your hand resting lightly on his arm, he can’t help but steal a glance at you. There’s a brightness in your eyes, a mix of pride and excitement that mirrors his own. “You okay?” He asks, squeezing your hand gently.
You look up at him and smile, the kind of smile that makes his heart do a little flip. “I’m more than okay,” you reply. “I’m with you, and we’re about to watch you live your dream. What could be better than that?”
Logan grins, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. You’ve been his rock through everything — the highs, the lows, the strange, unexplainable journey that brought him back here. He’s never been more certain that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
As you make your way through the paddock, heads turn. It’s not just because Logan is here with the legendary Andretti team, but because of the woman at his side. He catches a few curious glances, some surprised, others appreciative, and he can’t blame them. You’re a sight to behold, and he’s proud to be walking in with you.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, Logan spots a familiar face. Oscar Piastri, decked out in McLaren colors, is standing near the entrance to the pit lane, chatting with a few team members. It’s been years since they last spoke properly — back when they were both climbing the ranks in the junior series, fighting tooth and nail for every inch of track.
They were close once, but life pulled them in different directions — Oscar to McLaren, Logan to IndyCar. And now, here they are, both in Formula 1, albeit on different paths.
Logan feels a wave of nostalgia, and before he can overthink it, he’s steering you in Oscar’s direction. As you approach, Oscar looks up, and for a split second, there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes before it melts into a wide, genuine smile.
“Logan Sargeant,” Oscar says, his Australian accent as thick as ever. He steps forward, hand outstretched, and Logan takes it, shaking firmly. “I’ll be damned. You actually made it.”
Logan chuckles, the sound more relaxed than he feels. “Yeah, I guess I did. It’s been a long road, but here I am.”
Oscar’s smile widens, his grip on Logan’s hand lingering for just a moment longer. “It’s good to see you, mate. I was wondering when you’d show up in F1. Figured you were having too much fun in IndyCar to come back.”
“There was a lot to love about IndyCar,” Logan admits, glancing at you with a fond smile. “But F1 was always the dream, you know? Couldn’t pass up a chance like this.”
Oscar nods, understanding clear in his expression. “I get it. And with Andretti, no less. That’s a hell of a team to start with. You’re going to shake things up around here, I can tell.”
Logan shrugs, trying to play it cool even as his heart pounds with the reality of it all. “That’s the plan. But enough about me. How’s life at McLaren? You guys ready to give us a run for our money?”
Oscar laughs, the sound light and easy. “Always. McLaren’s been working their asses off, and I’m feeling good about this season. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because we’re old friends.”
Logan grins, feeling the competitive spark that’s always driven him reignite. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve gone wheel-to-wheel. I’m looking forward to it.”
Oscar’s gaze shifts to you, his curiosity evident. “And who’s this?” He asks, his tone polite but genuinely interested.
Logan’s grin softens as he looks at you. “This is my better half,” he says, his voice filled with affection. “She’s the one who keeps me sane.”
You smile at Oscar, offering your hand. “It’s great to finally meet you, Oscar. Logan’s told me a lot about you.”
Oscar shakes your hand, his smile warm and welcoming. “All good things, I hope.”
“Mostly,” you tease, throwing Logan a playful glance.
Logan laughs, feeling a lightness in his chest he hasn’t felt in a while. It’s good to be here, good to be surrounded by the familiar banter and camaraderie that he’s missed. He knows the road ahead is going to be tough — F1 is nothing if not ruthless — but with you by his side and old friends welcoming him back, he feels more ready than ever to face whatever comes his way.
Oscar steps back, his gaze shifting between the two of you. “Well, I’d better let you guys get settled in. But hey, we should catch up properly later. Maybe grab a drink after testing?”
Logan nods, appreciating the offer. “Definitely. It’s been too long.”
As Oscar walks away, Logan watches him for a moment, the memories of their shared past mingling with the excitement of the present. It’s surreal, being here again, but this time with the weight of everything he’s learned, everything he’s fought for.
You tug gently on his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?” You ask, your voice soft and curious.
Logan smiles down at you, squeezing your hand. “Just how different things are now,” he admits. “But in a good way. I’ve got a second shot at this, and I’m not going to waste it.”
You nod, your eyes shining with the same determination he feels. “And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”
Logan feels a swell of emotion, gratitude, and love that he can’t quite put into words. Instead, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The two of you continue walking, the sounds of the paddock fading into the background as you focus on each other. The day ahead is full of unknowns — testing, strategy meetings, the inevitable pressure of proving himself — but with you by his side, Logan feels ready for anything.
As you make your way to the Andretti garage, the team members greet Logan with nods and smiles, and he can see the mix of curiosity and expectation in their eyes. They’re all in this together, building something new, something that has the potential to be great. And Logan is determined to be the driver they need, the one who can lead them to success.
You squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “You’re going to do amazing, Logan. I can feel it.”
He smiles, the confidence in your voice bolstering his own. “Thanks. I’m just glad you’re here with me.”
“Always,” you reply, your gaze unwavering.
As the day progresses, Logan finds himself falling into the rhythm of the paddock. The familiar sounds of engines roaring to life, the chatter of engineers discussing data, the focused intensity that permeates every corner — it’s like he never left. But this time, there’s a new layer to it all, a sense of belonging that he didn’t fully grasp the first time around.
He exchanges nods and brief conversations with other drivers as they pass by, some offering congratulations, others sizing him up as the new competition. It’s all part of the game, the unspoken dance of respect and rivalry that defines the sport. But through it all, Logan keeps you close, your presence grounding him in the midst of the chaos.
As the day draws to a close, Logan finds himself back in the garage, the car stripped down and the team poring over the data from the day’s sessions. He’s tired, the kind of exhaustion that comes from both physical exertion and mental focus, but it’s the good kind of tired — the kind that tells him he’s exactly where he needs to be.
You’re standing nearby, chatting with one of the engineers, your laughter mingling with the sounds of the garage. Logan watches you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. You’ve always had a way of fitting in, of making everyone around you feel at ease, and he’s grateful for that — for you.
As if sensing his gaze, you look over at him and smile, that familiar warmth in your eyes. You make your way over to him, and when you reach him, Logan pulls you into his arms, holding you close. The noise of the garage fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this moment.
“You did great today,” you say.
Logan holds you a little tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmurs.
You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. “You’re the one out there driving, Logan. But I’m glad I can be here for you.”
He smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “It means everything to me that you are,” he whispers.
For a moment, the chaos of the garage and the world outside fades, leaving just the two of you standing together, ready to face whatever comes next. Logan knows the road ahead won’t be easy, but with you by his side, he’s more than ready to take on the challenge.
***
The media room is buzzing with the usual pre-race energy, a mix of nerves and excitement crackling in the air as the drivers settle in behind the table. Logan’s seated between Oscar and Charles, the bright lights overhead casting sharp shadows across their faces. The backdrop behind them, plastered with sponsor logos and the official F1 emblem, feels almost like a stage, the press in front of them the audience waiting for their performance.
Logan shifts in his seat, glancing down at the bottled water in front of him. The press conference has been the usual mix of questions so far — how the cars are handling, expectations for the season, the general camaraderie between the drivers. But there’s an undercurrent, a sense that something more pointed is coming.
A journalist from the back finally stands, her voice clear and direct as she catches Logan’s attention. “Logan,” she begins, holding her recorder up, “there’s been some observation that every time you see James Vowles, your expression seems to … change. Almost like you’re not too thrilled to be around him. Any comment on that?”
There’s a moment of silence in the room, a collective breath held. Logan feels the gaze of every person on him, including the drivers beside him. He lets out a quiet laugh, trying to play it cool, but he can’t help the way his mind flashes back to the last time he’d faced Vowles, the man’s condescending tone, the cold dismissal that had sent him spiraling.
Oscar shifts beside him, giving him a sideways glance, probably wondering where this is going. Logan catches the edge of his own reflection in the shiny surface of the table and forces his expression into something neutral, even though the old bitterness is clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach.
“Bad vibes,” Logan says finally, his voice carrying just enough humor to keep it light, though there’s an unmistakable edge to it. “That’s what my girlfriend would say. He just … gives off bad vibes.”
There’s a ripple of laughter through the room, the tension breaking slightly. But the journalist isn’t done yet. “Bad vibes? Care to elaborate on that?”
Logan shrugs, trying to brush it off with a casualness he doesn’t quite feel. “You know, it’s one of those things. Sometimes you just don’t click with someone, right? It’s nothing serious.”
Charles, on his other side, leans into his mic, flashing a grin. “You’re not going to make us all paranoid about our vibes now, are you?”
The room laughs again, and Logan takes the opportunity to sip his water, hoping the moment will pass. But he can feel the weight of the past pressing against him, the memories of how it all went down before he’d found himself in this second chance. He knows better than anyone that this sport is a game of perceptions, of how you carry yourself, and he can’t afford to let the past taint his future.
Another journalist jumps in, steering the conversation toward safer waters — questions about the new car, how he’s adjusting to the Andretti team. Logan answers on autopilot, the usual lines about feeling confident, about how the team has been amazing. But in the back of his mind, he’s still thinking about that flash of disgust he couldn’t hide, the way his skin prickled when he saw Vowles earlier that day.
When the press conference finally wraps up, and the drivers are ushered out of the room, Oscar hangs back, falling into step beside Logan as they head toward the paddock. “So,” Oscar starts, keeping his voice low, “bad vibes, huh?”
Logan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You know how it is,” he says, trying to keep it light, though he knows Oscar can see right through him.
Oscar just nods, not pushing any further, and Logan’s grateful for that. They walk in silence for a moment, the din of the paddock growing louder as they approach, engineers and team members bustling around them.
“Honestly, mate,” Oscar says after a beat, “if anyone’s going to bring some good vibes into F1, it’s you. I’m glad you’re here.”
Logan glances over, and there’s sincerity in Oscar’s expression that makes Logan’s chest tighten, the weight of everything he’s carried with him lightening just a bit. “Thanks, Oscar. That means a lot.”
They reach the Andretti motorhome, where you’re waiting for Logan, your eyes lighting up the moment you spot him. He feels a warmth spread through him at the sight, a reminder of what really matters.
You push off the wall you’d been leaning against, falling into step beside him. “So, how’d it go in there?”
Logan smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as they walk. “Let’s just say my reputation for honesty might have gotten a bit more solidified.”
You tilt your head up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “That bad, huh?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not bad, just … honest.”
You glance at Oscar, who’s still walking beside you, and give him a knowing look. “He always has to make things interesting, doesn’t he?”
Oscar grins, nodding in agreement. “Never a dull moment with this one.”
As you make your way back into the motorhome, Logan feels the tension of the day starting to ebb away. The familiar scent of coffee and fuel, the low hum of conversations around him, and the comforting presence of you by his side — it all feels right. Despite everything, he knows this is where he belongs.
Once inside, the motorhome offers a brief respite from the chaotic energy outside. The team is prepping for final checks, and Logan knows he should be focusing on the task ahead, but there’s something nagging at him, a need to explain himself, to make sure you understand.
You catch the way his brows furrow slightly, the way his grip on your shoulder tightens for a moment before he lets go. “What’s up?”
He hesitates, running a hand through his hair, looking for the right words. “I just … I don’t want to come off like I’m carrying a grudge or anything. That comment about Vowles — it probably sounded harsher than I meant it.”
You step closer, your hand finding his, grounding him. “Logan, it’s okay. Everyone has people they don’t vibe with. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.”
He nods, the tightness in his chest loosening as he looks into your eyes, seeing the unwavering support there. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
You smile, squeezing his hand. “It’s a gift. Plus, you make it easy.”
Oscar clears his throat, and both of you look over to see him trying not to grin. “I’m going to leave you two to it. Just don’t forget we have a race to focus on.”
Logan laughs, shaking his head as Oscar heads out. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right out.”
When Oscar’s gone, Logan turns back to you, his expression softening. “Thanks for being here. Really.”
You lean up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Always.”
As you both make your way out to the garage, the sounds of the team preparing for the weekend reach your ears, and Logan feels that familiar rush of adrenaline, the anticipation of what’s to come. The memory of the press conference, of Vowles, fades into the background. What matters now is the race ahead, the chance to prove himself once again, and the knowledge that whatever happens, you’re right there with him.
He glances over at you as they approach the car, and you catch him staring, raising an eyebrow in question. “What?”
Logan just smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
You roll your eyes, though there’s a smile playing on your lips. “You better believe it, Sargeant. Now, go out there and show them what you’ve got.”
He nods, feeling more centered than he has all day. With a final squeeze of your hand, he steps into the garage, ready to take on whatever comes next, knowing that no matter what happens on the track, he’s already won in the ways that truly matter.
***
The roar of the engines reverberates through the paddock, a constant hum that thrums in Logan’s chest as he steps into the Andretti garage. It’s yet another race weekend, and the energy is electric, a mix of anticipation and nerves hanging in the air.
The team is buzzing around him, mechanics fine-tuning the car, engineers buried in data, but Logan’s focus is on the familiar figure leaning casually against the back wall, arms crossed, watching the hustle with an almost serene smile.
Logan stops in his tracks, eyebrows raising in surprise. It’s not that Mario isn’t around — he’s a constant presence in the team, always keeping an eye on things — but he usually doesn’t show up this early in the weekend, and certainly not with that look on his face.
It’s a smile Logan recognizes all too well, a mix of pride and mischief that means only one thing: Mario knows something that everyone else doesn’t, and it’s going to shake things up.
Logan weaves his way through the garage, sidestepping the organized chaos until he’s standing in front of Mario. “You look like you’re up to something,” Logan says, crossing his arms to mirror the older man’s posture. “What’s going on?”
Mario’s smile widens just a fraction, his eyes glinting with a secret. “Now, what makes you think I’m up to anything, kid?”
Logan chuckles, shaking his head. “Because I know that look. You’ve got news.”
Mario doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pushes off the wall and motions for Logan to follow him to a quieter corner of the garage, away from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the team. Logan follows, his curiosity piqued. Whatever Mario’s about to tell him, it’s big.
When they’re sufficiently out of earshot, Mario leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You remember how I told you a while back that we were working on something big for the team?”
Logan nods, his interest fully captured. “Yeah. What’s up?”
Mario’s smile turns almost wicked. “Well, it seems that James Vowles and Williams think they’re going to secure Adrian Newey for next season.”
Logan’s eyes widen slightly. Newey is a legend in the sport, the kind of designer who can turn a good team into a championship-winning one. If Williams were to get him, it would be a game-changer. “Wait, you said they think they’re going to get him?”
“Exactly.” Mario’s grin is practically gleeful now. “What they don’t know is that Adrian’s already in talks with us. In fact, we’re just about ready to sign the deal.”
Logan lets out a low whistle, the magnitude of the news sinking in. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. By this time next week, Adrian Newey will be working for Andretti.”
Logan can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face. This is huge, a move that will send shockwaves through the paddock. With Newey on board, Andretti’s chances of becoming a front-runner in F1 just skyrocketed. “I can’t believe it,” Logan says, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s going to change everything.”
Mario nods, satisfaction evident in his expression. “It’s a big deal, no doubt about it. But we’ve still got work to do. We can’t get complacent, not with what’s at stake. But this … this is a big step in the right direction.”
Logan’s mind is already racing ahead, thinking about what this means for the team, for his own career. The idea of driving a car designed by Newey is almost surreal. “When are you going to announce it?”
“Not until everything’s signed and sealed,” Mario replies. “But once it’s done, we’ll make sure the whole world knows. And Williams … well, they’re in for a nasty surprise.”
Logan laughs, the sound coming out more exhilarated than he intended. The idea of one-upping Vowles, especially after everything that’s happened between them, is deeply satisfying. “I can’t wait to see the look on Vowles’ face when he finds out.”
Mario pats Logan on the shoulder, the gesture filled with a camaraderie that Logan has come to cherish. “Neither can I, kid. Neither can I.”
As they walk back towards the main part of the garage, Logan’s mind is still reeling from the news. He’s been focused on the present, on making sure he performs at his best every time he’s out on the track, but this … this opens up a whole new realm of possibilities. With Newey on board, there’s no telling what they can achieve.
When you spot him from across the garage, the look on his face must give away that something’s up because you immediately make your way over, your expression curious. “What’s going on?” You ask as soon as you’re close enough.
Logan glances around, making sure no one is within earshot, and then leans in, his voice low. “Mario just dropped a bombshell. Andretti’s about to sign Adrian Newey.”
Your eyes widen in shock, and Logan watches as a grin spreads across your face, mirroring his own excitement. “No way. That’s … huge!”
“I know,” Logan says, still barely able to believe it himself. “This changes everything.”
You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, your voice filled with pride. “You’re going to be driving a car designed by Newey. Do you realize how amazing that is?”
Logan nods, the reality of it finally sinking in. “Yeah, I do. It’s … I can’t even put it into words.”
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t have to. I can see it on your face.”
For a moment, Logan just stands there, soaking it all in. The garage is still bustling around them, the team oblivious to the monumental news that’s just been dropped in their laps. But Logan knows that soon enough, everything is going to change. This is the kind of move that can define a career, that can take a team from being contenders to being champions.
But more than that, it’s a chance for redemption. A chance to prove to everyone — including himself — that he belongs here, that he’s capable of more than anyone ever gave him credit for. The past is behind him now, and with you by his side, and Newey in the garage, the future looks brighter than ever.
Logan glances over at you, seeing the pride and excitement in your eyes, and feels a surge of gratitude. For the second chance he’s been given, for the team that believes in him, and for you, the person who’s been there through it all.
“We’re going to do something amazing, you know that?” Logan says, his voice filled with conviction.
You nod, your smile soft but full of certainty. “I know. And I can’t wait to see it.”
Neither can Logan.
***
Logan’s heart is still pounding from the rush of the race as he stands on the podium, feeling the weight of the Miami sun on his shoulders. The crowd roars below him, a sea of red, white, and blue as far as the eye can see, their energy pulsing through his veins. He can hardly believe it. A podium at his home race, in front of a crowd that feels like family, is something he’d dreamed about since he was a kid.
He turns, looking out over the crowd, his eyes scanning for you. You’re there, as you always are, standing with the Andretti team, your smile brighter than the sun. The mechanics are cheering, patting each other on the back, but Logan only has eyes for you. It’s like everything else falls away — the noise, the cameras, the pressure of the season — all of it fades into the background. All that matters is the way you’re looking at him, like he’s your entire world.
He takes a deep breath, the realization of what he’s about to do washing over him. His hands shake, just slightly, as he reaches up and touches the chain around his neck, feeling the weight of the ring that’s been hidden there for weeks, waiting for this moment.
Without another thought, he drops to one knee, right there on the podium. The world seems to stop as he looks up at you, the crowd going silent in his mind. He hears the sharp intake of breath from the Andretti crew, sees the shock on your face as you register what’s happening.
“Hey,” he says, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. “I … I don’t know if I can put into words what you mean to me. You’ve been with me through everything — the wins, the losses, the crazy twists and turns. And I can’t imagine going through any of it without you by my side.” He pauses, the weight of the moment sinking in. “So I guess what I’m trying to say is … will you marry me?”
Your eyes widen, and for a second, you’re frozen in place, staring at him in disbelief. Then, as if breaking free from a spell, you laugh, a sound that’s pure joy, and nod vigorously. The next thing Logan knows, you’re being lifted onto the podium by the mechanics, tears of happiness streaming down your face as you launch yourself into his arms.
“Yes,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, of course, I will!”
The crowd erupts into cheers, the noise deafening as Logan slides the ring onto your finger. He pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a kiss that tastes like victory, love, and everything good in the world. The mechanics are going wild, chanting your names, and someone — Logan thinks it might be Mario — pops open a bottle of champagne, spraying it over everyone.
It’s chaotic, it’s perfect, and it’s a moment that Logan knows he’ll remember for the rest of his life. As he holds you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, he realizes that this — right here, with you in his arms, and his home crowd cheering around him — is the true victory. The rest is just a bonus.
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “You know,” he says, his voice low so only you can hear, “I always knew I was lucky. But this … this is something else entirely.”
You smile, the kind of smile that makes his heart skip a beat, and lean in to kiss him again. “We’re both lucky, Logan,” you whisper against his lips. “And this is just the beginning.”
***
The paddock is buzzing with activity, the hum of engines and the chatter of mechanics creating a familiar symphony that Logan finds oddly comforting. It’s the start of another race weekend, but this one feels different. There’s an undercurrent of excitement in the air, a mix of nerves and anticipation that has nothing to do with the cars or the track.
Logan slips away from the Andretti garage, his eyes scanning the bustling paddock as he makes his way toward the Williams garage. He’s done his best to stay clear of them ever since re-entering Formula 1, but today is different. Today, he has a reason to be there — a reason that brings a small, almost mischievous smile to his lips.
The Williams garage is a flurry of motion, mechanics and engineers huddled over laptops, surrounded by toolboxes and tires. The sight brings a wave of nostalgia crashing over Logan, but he quickly pushes it aside. He isn’t here for a trip down memory lane.
Spotting Alex Albon near the back, Logan weaves through the chaos, his steps light and easy despite the tension he can feel crawling up his spine. Alex is engrossed in a conversation with his race engineer, but when Logan steps up, he looks up in surprise.
“Logan!” Alex greets, his face splitting into a wide grin. “What are you doing here? Slumming it with the backmarkers?”
“Something like that,” Logan replies, his tone light as he pulls a small, cream-colored envelope from his jacket pocket. He hands it to Alex, who takes it with a curious tilt of his head. “Figured I should deliver this in person.”
Alex flips the envelope over, his eyes widening slightly as he reads the names printed in elegant script on the front — his and Lily’s. He breaks into a grin, already understanding what it is before he even opens it.
“No way,” Alex says, pulling out the invitation and quickly scanning the details. “You’re really doing it, huh? Getting hitched?”
Logan chuckles, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at the thought. “Yeah, we are. And we’d love for you and Lily to be there.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alex replies, his grin softening into something more sincere. “Congrats, man. You two are great together.”
Logan nods, grateful for the genuine well-wishes. He’s about to say something else when a flicker of movement catches his eye. Glancing up, he sees James Vowles standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable as he watches the exchange between Logan and Alex.
For a brief moment, the past rushes back — the frustration, the disappointment, the sense of being discarded like a broken part. Logan feels a familiar pang of bitterness, but he quickly tamps it down. He isn’t that person anymore. He’s moved on, and he’s got better things — better people — in his life now.
Still, he can’t help himself.
He meets James’ gaze head-on, his smile shifting into something a bit more pointed, more deliberate. “Oh, James?” He says, his voice carrying just enough to be heard over the noise of the garage. “Seems like your invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail. Real shame.”
James’ eyes narrow slightly, his jaw tightening, but he doesn’t respond. The tension between them is almost tangible, thickening the air around them. Logan holds his gaze for a moment longer, then shrugs exaggeratingly before turning his attention back to Alex.
“Anyway, hope to see you there,” Logan says, clapping Alex on the shoulder before stepping back. “Tell Lily we’re looking forward to it.”
“Will do,” Alex replies, still smiling but with a touch of unease as he glances between Logan and James.
Logan doesn’t linger. He turns on his heel and strides back through the garage, the small, satisfied grin still tugging at his lips. He can feel James’ eyes boring into his back, but he doesn’t care. Let him stew, Logan thinks. He’s got more important things on his mind.
As he exits the garage and steps back into the sun-drenched paddock, Logan takes a deep breath, feeling lighter, freer. The thought of the wedding, of you waiting for him back in the Andretti garage, fills him with a sense of contentment that he never thought he’d find in the world of Formula 1.
He spots you before you see him, standing with Mario and a few other Andretti team members, animatedly talking about something. Your laughter rings out over the noise of the paddock, and Logan feels his heart swell with affection.
It’s funny how things work out, he thinks. How life has a way of surprising you, of turning things around when you least expect it. He’s come a long way from that lost, angry kid who thought he’d never get a second chance. And now, here he is, standing on the cusp of a future that’s brighter than anything he could have imagined.
He picks up his pace, eager to get back to you, to tell you about the exchange with Alex and the little jab he couldn’t resist throwing at James. But as he draws closer, you turn and catch sight of him, your face lighting up in a way that makes his breath catch in his throat.
“Hey, you,” you call out, stepping away from the group to meet him halfway. “Did you get it done?”
Logan nods, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, I did. Alex and Lily are in.”
“And Vowles?” You ask, a knowing glint in your eyes.
Logan chuckles, slipping an arm around your waist as he leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Let’s just say … he didn’t make the cut.”
You laugh, the sound pure and full of joy, and it’s the best thing Logan’s heard all day. “Good. You don’t need that kind of negativity at our wedding.”
“No, I don’t,” Logan agrees, feeling a rush of relief that you’re by his side, making even the most awkward encounters bearable. “And anyway, we’ve got more than enough people who actually care about us.”
You nod, your expression softening as you look up at him. “Yeah, we do. And I can’t wait to celebrate with them — with you.”
Logan feels a warmth spread through him, the same warmth he’s felt ever since the day he realized just how much you meant to him. It’s a feeling that never gets old, no matter how many podiums or victories he racks up. Because at the end of the day, it’s moments like this — simple, shared moments with you — that matter the most.
As the two of you head back toward the Andretti garage, Logan can’t help but think about how far he’s come. From the chaos of that first season in Formula 1, the heartbreak of being dropped, to the wild success of his time in IndyCar, and now, back in the sport he loves, with you by his side.
He knows there will be more challenges ahead — there always are in this world. But for now, he’s content to focus on the here and now, on the love he’s found and the life he’s building with you.
And as you walk together through the paddock, the sun casting long shadows on the ground, Logan can’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Not because of the cars, or the fame, or even the victories, but because of you — because you’re the one thing in his life that makes all the twists and turns worth it.
And he wouldn’t trade that for anything.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening, a wall of sound that crashes against Logan as he stands on top of the podium. His hands grip the trophy tightly, the cold metal grounding him as the reality of it all sinks in. He’s done it. Logan Sargeant, the kid from Florida who almost lost everything, is now the World Drivers’ Champion.
The first American to do so since Mario Andretti himself.
He’s fought hard for this moment, clawed his way back from the brink of obscurity, and now here he is, at the pinnacle of motorsport. The champagne sprays around him, but all Logan can focus on is the sight of you, beaming up at him from the edge of the podium. You’re standing beside Mario, who’s wearing a grin as wide as Logan’s ever seen. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands clasped together, eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and joy.
He barely registers the other drivers beside him, the interviews, or the flashes of cameras. Everything narrows to you and the overwhelming sense of accomplishment swelling in his chest. You’ve been there through it all, from the moment he took that leap of faith into IndyCar, to the sleepless nights before his first season back in Formula 1. Every high and every low has led to this, and you’ve never wavered.
Logan can’t help the way his gaze shifts slightly to the left, where James Vowles stands at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. There’s a tightness to his expression, a bitterness that Logan recognizes all too well.
But as much as he’d love to revel in that small victory, he finds that he doesn’t care. Not really. The vindication is sweet, sure, but it pales in comparison to the sight of you and the emotions radiating from you like the warmest of suns.
You notice him looking at you, and you blow him a kiss, laughing when he pretends to catch it, holding it to his chest. There’s no place he’d rather be than right here, right now, with you by his side.
The ceremony starts to wrap up, and as the photographers move in closer for shots, Logan can see Mario nudging you forward. You’re waving your hands at your grandfather, as if to say no, you’re fine where you are, but Mario’s having none of it. The mechanics and team members part to let you through, and Logan watches with an ever-growing smile as you finally make your way up onto the podium.
When you reach him, Logan pulls you into his arms without hesitation, lifting you off your feet as the crowd goes wild. He spins you around, feeling the way you cling to him, your laughter ringing out in his ear.
“You did it,” you say when he finally sets you down, your voice thick with emotion.
“No,” Logan corrects, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “We did it.”
You roll your eyes playfully, but there’s no hiding the way your eyes glisten. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you love me for it,” Logan teases, leaning in to press his forehead against yours.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I really do.”
The moment is interrupted by Mario clearing his throat, and Logan turns to see him holding a bottle of champagne, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Now, are we celebrating or what?”
Logan laughs, grabbing the bottle and popping the cork, spraying the contents over you and Mario, who both shout in surprise. The rest of the team quickly follows suit, and soon, the podium is a chaotic mess of laughter, champagne, and pure, unfiltered joy.
As the celebrations continue around him, Logan takes a step back, watching the scene unfold. His heart swells with a sense of contentment he’s never felt before. He’s always been driven, always had his eyes set on the next goal, the next race, the next win. But standing here, with you by his side, he realizes that he’s found something even more important than all of that.
He’s found a home.
A family.
And he’s never letting go.
The night carries on in a blur of congratulatory hugs, media obligations, and team celebrations. But as the crowd starts to thin and the energy begins to mellow, Logan finds himself sitting on the edge of the podium, his legs dangling off the side. The cool night air brushes against his skin, the sounds of the city in the distance providing a soft backdrop to the dwindling celebrations.
You find him there, sitting in silence, and without a word, you join him. You lean into his side, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“It’s still sinking in,” Logan admits after a while. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this feeling.”
You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes filled with warmth. “You’ve earned it, Logan. Every single bit of it. Don’t ever doubt that.”
He nods, resting his chin on top of your head. “It just feels … surreal. Like I’m living in a dream.”
“Well, if this is a dream,” you say, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, “then it’s one I never want to wake up from.”
Logan chuckles softly, his heart swelling with affection. “You and me both.”
The two of you sit there in comfortable silence, watching as the final remnants of the celebration begin to fade. The stadium lights dim, and the night sky takes over, a blanket of stars twinkling above you. It’s peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the day, and Logan can’t help but feel grateful for this quiet moment with you.
“I used to think winning was everything,” Logan says after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. “That nothing else mattered as long as I crossed the finish line first.”
“And now?” You ask, your tone gentle, inviting him to continue.
“Now I know that it’s not just about the win,” Logan replies, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It’s about the journey. The people who stand by you, who lift you up when you’re down, who make the victories sweeter and the losses bearable. It’s about finding something worth fighting for, and never letting go of it.”
You smile, your fingers intertwining with his. “Sounds like you’ve learned a lot.”
Logan nods, turning his head to look at you. “I have. And it’s all because of you.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”
“Not at all,” Logan says, his voice firm. “You’ve been my rock, my anchor. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
You look at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “Logan …”
“I mean it,” he says, his voice gentle yet unwavering. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You don’t respond with words; instead, you lean in, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s a kiss filled with promises, with unspoken words, and with a love that has grown stronger with every challenge, every victory, every moment shared.
When you finally pull away, Logan rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his heart full. “I love you,” he whispers, the words carrying the weight of all he feels.
“I love you too,” you reply, your voice just as soft, just as full of emotion.
The world fades away as the two of you sit there, wrapped up in each other. Logan knows that there will be more challenges ahead, more races to win, more obstacles to overcome. But as long as he has you by his side, he knows that he can face anything.
Because, in the end, it’s not just about the racing. It’s about the people who make it all worthwhile.
And for Logan Sargeant, that person is you.
As the night deepens and the city quiets, Logan realizes that this is just the beginning. The beginning of a new chapter, a new journey, with you right beside him. And whatever the future holds, he knows one thing for certain:
He’s exactly where he’s meant to be.
And with you, he’s already won.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#logan sargeant#ls2#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant x you#logan sargeant fic#logan sargeant fluff#logan sargeant fanfiction#logan sargeant blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#logan sargeant x y/n#williams racing#williams#logan sargeant one shot#logan sargeant drabble
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ideal weekend, lando norris
summary: while fans stress about the fact that, following their breakup, the actress won't be there to witness the driver's first ever f1 win, y/n gets asked about her ideal weekend off in an interview and accidentally manifests it [actress!reader]
warnings: i think only very bad editing (i tried) and me bringing up yet another footballer i feel affection for for literally no reason
fc: madelyn cline
started this as something completely different from what it ended up being but i think i like it. i'd love it if you let me know what you think tho (((:
y/n.y/l
📍miami
Liked by rudeth and 1.059.326 others
y/n.y/l yet another victim of a @/maxverstappen1 win. had so much fun but i think i'll just stick to acting 🙃🙃🫠 thank you @/redbullracing for having me!!! <333
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username at a red bull event? what happened to once a mclaren girl always a mclaren girl????
username this event was basically work for her ?? you ppl need to stop taking everything so personally omg
username professional SUPER FAST driver, part time actress ❤️ by author
username you're in miami the same week of the miami gp. coincidence? i think not 😌😌
username GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL
redbullracing Glad you had fun Y/n! Maybe we should start considering you for a guest appearance in our garage 😉
mclaren Thanks for the offer, Red Bull! But we've already got dibs on her 😉
username UM I HOPE THIS ISN'T A JOKE ??
username don't play with me like this admin!!
mclaren Don't worry. We won't hold this against you 🧡
y/n.y/l ily guys 🧡🧡🧡
username Ok cool now go finish season 4
username Why are u in Miami shouldn’t u be filming obx 4 😪
y/n.y/l side quest
username not the Y/n x F1 content I was hoping for but at this point I'll take what I can get
maxverstappen1 Next time I'll give you a head start. Enjoyed having you with us, Y/n 🫶
y/n.y/l there will definitely not be a next time but thanks tho!!!👍🏼 always a pleasure seeing you ❤️
username pretty 🩷
username Why is Max literally this🧍🏼♂️❤️ by author
landonorris Um what's this?
y/n.y/l 😶 not what it looks like
username seeing you two banter like this makes my heart ache 💔
username i'm never moving on from y/nlando sigh
username OBX S4 WHEN QUEEN
29 April 2024
mclaren added to their story
y/n.y/l
Liked by maxfewtrell and 1.890.345 others
y/n.y/l me and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER lando norris
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username JUST WHEN I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN'T GET ANY BETTER OMFG
username formula 1 race winner lando norris has a nice ring to it 😉 ❤️ by author
username What a race, and what a win for Lando!!!
username IM LOSING IT YALL I JUST CHECKED OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BRIGHTON ALSO WON TODAY Y/N MANIFESTED HER IDEAL SUNDAY
username minus the relaxing part lol i know for a fact bestie was stressing in that garage
carlossainz55 It's great to see you back at a race! Missed having you around! ❤️
y/n.y/l thank you carlitos ❤️ wish i could've got to see you up there with lando
charles_leclerc ouch ? 🫤
y/n.y/l noooo, i didn't mean you!!! x
maxverstappen1 ouch?
y/n.y/l i did mean you. sorry /:
username are we back in 2022 and i didn't realise?????? not complaining at all tho
mclaren You and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris look amazing! 🧡 ❤️ by author
username admin definitely ships
username children of divorce rise !!!!!!! ❤️ by author
username u think u're so funny liking this @.y/n.y/n but we're actually hurting we want our mum back!!!
username seeing you celebrate with lando was everything 🥹🥹🥹
username when i tell you i sCREAMED !!!!!!
username Everything in the world has been healed due to this post
oscarpiastri Awesome that you could come watch. Missed you ❤️
y/n.y/l missed you more pastry boy ❤️❤️
username we were robbed from this friendship !!!😪
username can't believe how emotional I am seeing you two together at his big win
francisca.cgomes ❤️❤️❤️ ❤️ by author
username just realised i am not as over y/nlando as i thought i was. in fact i am not over y/nlando at all.
username well seeing you with FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris just hit me right in the feels💔
landonorris Thanks for being there to share the moment with us ❤️ ❤️ by author
landonorris Also I think after this you might now have to come to every race ever
y/n.y/l clearing my schedule as we speak 🫡
username i am so ready to be delusional
05 May 2024
#actress!reader#social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris social media au#lando norris imagine#instagram au#ln4 smau#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine
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roles reversed
toxic!paige x toxic!reader
warnings: smut, sub!paige, reader pushed paige into a wall, toxic toxic toxic situationship (LEAVE THEM IT NEVER ENDS WELL)
based on this req
"we be on some toxic shit, but i cannot get off this bitch"
forever (lil baby ft. fridayy, 2022)
-
this girl got me fucked up.
"so let me get this straight." i asked, rubbing my temples because paige was giving me a fucking migraine. "you thought that i had a thing for your teammate.... so you FUCKED SOMEONE ELSE?"
"okay when you put it like that-"
"THERES NO OTHER FUCKING WAY TO PUT IT PAIGE!" i was full on screaming at this point. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU THAT I'M NOT NOR AM I GOING TO FUCK SOMEONE ELSE?"
"bro stop yelling at me."
she was making demands right now?
oh she has life all the way fucked up.
"get the fuck out paige." i shook my head and began to walk to my room.
i had to just end it.
that situationship shit was for the fucking birds and i had to protect my peace because if i handled it was gonna end up in fucking prison.
"baby no, let's talk about this."
"oh i'm baby now?" i scoffed at this. "was i baby when you were fucking that girl? was i baby when you chose not to ask the simplest fucking question, and instead chose to step out on the rule that you created?" i asked walking closer to her, with my fists clenched because at that point...
i needed that.
"or am i only baby when you need a rough fuck?" her eyes flicked from mine to my lips, which only further irritated me. "am im only baby after you've called me every other name in the book?" her tongue darted out against her bottom lip as i finally reached her, standing directly in front of her, daring her to break the eye contact i'd established. "you only want me when no one else is willing to let you do shit we do." i shoved her, making her stumble.
"yo." she says, still holding eye contact. "chill out."
yeah i'm finna whoop her muhfuckin ass.
"bro on my mama you got me fucked up." i muttered and start pushing her as hard as i could, saying whatever came to my mind.
"you wanna fuck bitches now?" shove "that's what you wanna do?" shove "you wanna fuck them and then come here and fuck me like im just an afterthought?" shove "get the fuck out!" and then finally her back met the wall next to my door and i felt like i'd accomplished something.
....that was until she put me in a bear hug, making it damn near impossible to move. "y/n, stop bro!"
i used all my strength and ripped myself out of her hold. "NO YOU STOP!" i yelled. "do you have any idea how fucking annoying you fucking are bro?" i asked trying to catch my breath. "how the fuck do you sit there and make the 'no fucking other people' rule and then turn around and break it? you fucking slut."
"i'm a slut?" she asked, smirking a little, but at this point i didn't give a damn. i was gonna say what i needed to say and then be done with this whole thing.
"yes. a slut. a whore. whatever you wanna call yourself." i said, crossing my arms. "you never wanted to be exclusive. you just wanted me to be yours and only yours. but you wanna go give away everything that's mine. you're community pussy at this point."
she practically howled at that. "community pussy is crazy." this bitch was laughing in my fucking face-
next thing i knew i was running towards her ready to molly whop her ass.
"okay! okay! chillchillchillchill!" she put her hands up before i got to her, which made me stop. "what can i do to fix this?"
easy.
"ask me to be your girlfriend."
"anything but that."
this is exactly why i was trying to smack her. because she's one of them dumb hoes. she just said 'what can i do?'...
just stupid.
all of a sudden an idea hit me.
"let me fuck you." i crossed my arms and smirked because i knew she would give me the upper hand if i wanted it.
paige wasn't a stone top. she was a switch, she just didn't do it often because i was the og pillow princess. but not today. today i was gonna do what she'd been doing to me for almost 6 months.
ruin her.
"oh?" she grinned. "you wanna top me baby?"
"i really wanna beat your ass but martin luther king said violence isn't the answer and i listen to my ancestors... so yes, this will do."
she chuckled a little which irked the fuck out of me but then she plopped on the couch and manspread. "do your worst."
she had no fucking idea what my worst was.
i climbed in her lap and her hands moved to my ass but i quickly shut that down and pinned them to the couch on either side of her. then i proceeded to take her shirt and sports bra off so that her top half was completely bare.
i took a moment to admire her. leaving paige alone would have honestly been so much easier if she was ugly but unfortunately, she's hand crafted by jesus himself, so here i was... delusional and pissed off again.
i start with her neck, soft kisses at first, then as i felt her breathing pick up i switched to longer, more sensual movements and grind into her lap, smiling at the way her hips buck up. i place a hand on her collarbones and slide them down to her tits, kneading them and relishing in the whimpers escaping paiges lips.
she tried to close her legs as my hands travel further down her body.
"spread your legs." i demanded.
she blinked a few times, her blue eyes finding mine. she looked like she couldn't comprehend what i was saying, but when i slid my hand across the space of her lap between us, she complied, eagerly spreading her legs for me.
a soft sigh from her lips as my hands slipped past the waistband of her briefs and grazed her core.
"yes, fuck," she breathed out, arching into my fingers that ran circles around her clit. so impatient. a moan fell from her lips as i sped up my pace, making her legs spread further as she chased her orgasm.
which she seemed desperate for. that much was obvious by how gloriously wet she was for me.
she gripped the cushions of my couch, moaning even louder when i slid two fingers into her.
"right there" she breathed rolling her eyes closed as i hit her spot. she moaned especially loud when i curled my fingers into her. i felt her legs grow tight under me, which made me want to smile with pride for myself.
"how you feel p?" i felt her tighten around my fingers as i spoke.
"close- im so close and- shit - it feels so good." she breathed out, chest rising and falling with each breath.
i curled my fingers deeper inside of her to hit that spongy spot and soaked in the cry she let out.
then i slid out of her. leaving her hanging.
"now how do you feel?" i asked.
the look on paiges face was murderous and pained at the same time. like she hated this but she was gonna put up with it anyway.
"like you're not done yet."
i smiled. "not even close babe." i patted her thigh, stepping off of her lap. "go to my bed and wait for me."
as i sauntered off into my hallway closet to t get he batteries i needed, i heard the soft patters of paiges sock covered feet hurrying to my bedroom.
i grabbed the batteries and walked into my room to find paige sitting at the foot of my bed, rid of her bottoms, feet tapping the ground in what, im assuming, anticipation.
i moved so i was standing directly in front of her, grabbing her jaw and pulling her into a kiss that even had me ready to let this whole thing go.
luckily though, i had enough willpower to pull away and walk to my night stand.
"lay down for me p." and she did.
watching her like this was almost painful. bare, toned body layed out on my bed, and she was doing everything i'd asked without a second thought.
i lived for this shit.
i was pulled out of my thoughts when paige asked what i was gonna do.
great fucking question.
i took my time, looking in the drawer of my nightstand, which held all of the things paige had often used to bring me to my highest points.
not that she need them.
i decided to keep it simple and nabbed the black bullet shaped toy then made my way back to the gorgeous piece of woman that was losing her mind in my bed.
"legs wider apart." i heard her breathe sharply as she drummed her fingers on her toned stomach.
she was excited which made me feel a little bit better about what i was about to do.
setting the toy down on bed beside paige, i knelt down so i was face to face with her core that was still primed from her denied orgasm earlier.
god she was sooooo... FUCK.
"you're always acting like i'm just a quick fuck to you p." i ran two fingers up her folds, ignoring the whimper she let out, "and i don't know why." i slid a finger into her and leaned down so i fell face first into her pussy.
her eyes rolled back as i rubbed circles on her clit and pumped in and out of her with increasing speed.
her back arched off the bed when i added a second finger and attached my lips to her clit, sucking lightly but i used my free hand to hold her hips her place.
i pulled back long enougt to say "watch."
with hooded eyes she stares down at me like i had hung the moon and stars myself.
as she fucking should.
loud moans echoed around the room as she leaned further into my touch and i knew she was getting close.
but she wasn't getting off that easy.
she whined my name the second i'd stopped touching her.
but i only laughed as turned it on the vibrator, giggling when her previously shut eyes flew open.
"baby-" she was cut off by her own gasp, jerking forward when i tapped the vibrator against her clit.
"don't. cum." standing up so i was looking down at her i asked the million dollar question. "i wanna know why you don't wanna be my girlfriend." i murmured, teasing her her folds. "just give me your point of view."
i knew how she was feeling because i'd been in this very position so many times before. I knew she probably couldn't even think straight, let alone speak, but that wasn't gonna stop me from fucking with her.
she whimpered as i dipped the vibrator inside of her.
"speak, paige." i demanded, sliding the toy back out of her, only to run it over her puffy clit earning me a frustrated groan.
"because you're you and i'm me- shit-" she moaned, arching off the bed again as i held the vibrator softly on her clit. "w-we're just- fuck- so different and i don't wanna..." she trailed off when i applied more pressure.
"don't what?" i forced out, admiring the way her hands were gripping my sheets.
when she didn't answer me i turned the vibration up a notch, soaking in the moans and whimpers she gave me.
"please," she pleaded as her legs began trembling.
"you just have to give an answer paige and i'll let you cum." i replied, turning the vibrator up again.
with a deep moans she finally gave in. "i don't wanna lose you" she basically sobbed.
that's all i needed.
"cum for me paige."
her eyes slammed shut and her head flew back as her whole body shook. guttural moans left her throat as she fell apart in front of me.
it was beautiful, really.
when she'd ridden her orgasm out, i tossed the vibrator on the bed and laid between her legs that wrapped around my waist. kissing her deeply, and pushing her hair out of her face, i fought the smile that was forming.
right now wasn't about proving my point. it was about grounding paige.
her eyes were glazed over as she stared at the ceiling, catching her breath. and then after a few seconds, her hands slithered around my waist, under my shirt.
with a sigh, she her eyes met mine and she began talking. "of course i want you to be mine. i think.... i think i'm just scared i'm gonna fuck it up and you're gonna be done with me for real."
"you're gonna lose me regardless if you don't figure this shit out p." i said, pulling up so i was straddling her naked body. "i can't keep doing this shit. this was never just sex and you going out doing whatever with whoever is fucking me up a little."
"i know mama." she said, pulling me back so i was flush against her chest, hugging me tightly "i'm gonna work on it, i swear."
and even though it sounded nice in the moment, i knew she was full of shit. she'd never change, and i knew it.
but a piece of me never wanted to stop trying.
niyah speaks may this type of love never find you guys
taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld
@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03 @pb524830 @dnftpn @pboogerswbb @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @paigesbabygirl @ch12334
#uconn wbb#paige bueckers#uconn#aubrey griffin#wcbb#paige bueckers fic#kk arnold#azzi fudd#niyahsreqs#paige bueckers smut
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Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #28
July 19-26 2024
The EPA announced the award of $4.3 billion in Climate Pollution Reduction Grants. The grants support community-driven solutions to fight climate change, and accelerate America’s clean energy transition. The grants will go to 25 projects across 30 states, and one tribal community. When combined the projects will reduce greenhouse gas pollution by as much as 971 million metric tons of CO2, roughly the output of 5 million American homes over 25 years. Major projects include $396 million for Pennsylvania’s Department of Environmental Protection as it tries to curb greenhouse gas emissions from industrial production, and $500 million for transportation and freight decarbonization at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.
The Biden-Harris Administration announced a plan to phase out the federal government's use of single use plastics. The plan calls for the federal government to stop using single use plastics in food service operations, events, and packaging by 2027, and from all federal operations by 2035. The US government is the single largest employer in the country and the world’s largest purchaser of goods and services. Its move away from plastics will redefine the global market.
The White House hosted a summit on super pollutants with the goals of better measuring them and dramatically reducing them. Roughly half of today's climate change is caused by so called super pollutants, methane, hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), and nitrous oxide (N2O). Public-private partnerships between NOAA and United Airlines, The State Department and NASA, and the non-profit Carbon Mapper Coalition will all help collect important data on these pollutants. While private firms announced with the White House plans that by early next year will reduce overall U.S. industrial emissions of nitrous oxide by over 50% from 2020 numbers. The summit also highlighted the EPA's new rule to reduce methane from oil and gas by 80%.
The EPA announced $325 million in grants for climate justice. The Community Change Grants Program, powered by President Biden's Inflation Reduction Act will ultimately bring $2 billion dollars to disadvantaged communities and help them combat climate change. Some of the projects funded in this first round of grant were: $20 million for Midwest Tribal Energy Resources Association, which will help weatherize and energy efficiency upgrade homes for 35 tribes in Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, $14 million to install onsite wastewater treatment systems throughout 17 Black Belt counties in Alabama, and $14 million to urban forestry, expanding tree canopy in Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.
The Department of Interior approved 3 new solar projects on public land. The 3 projects, two in Nevada and one in Arizona, once finished could generate enough to power 2 million homes. This comes on top of DoI already having beaten its goal of 25 gigawatts of clean energy projects by the end of 2025, in April 2024. This is all part of President Biden’s goal of creating a carbon pollution-free power sector by 2035.
Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen pledged $667 million to global Pandemic Fund. The fund set up in 2022 seeks to support Pandemic prevention, and readiness in low income nations who can't do it on their own. At the G20 meeting Yellen pushed other nations of the 20 largest economies to double their pledges to the $2 billion dollar fund. Yellen highlighted the importance of the fund by saying "President Biden and I believe that a fully-resourced Pandemic Fund will enable us to better prevent, prepare for, and respond to pandemics – protecting Americans and people around the world from the devastating human and economic costs of infectious disease threats,"
The Departments of the Interior and Commerce today announced a $240 million investment in tribal fisheries in the Pacific Northwest. This is in line with an Executive Order President Biden signed in 2023 during the White House Tribal Nations Summit to mpower Tribal sovereignty and self-determination. An initial $54 million for hatchery maintenance and modernization will be made available for 27 tribes in Alaska, Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. The rest will be invested in longer term fishery projects in the coming years.
The IRS announced that thanks to funding from President Biden's Inflation Reduction Act, it'll be able to digitize much of its operations. This means tax payers will be able to retrieve all their tax related information from one source, including Wage & Income, Account, Record of Account, and Return transcripts, using on-line Individual Online Account.
The IRS also announced that New Jersey will be joining the direct file program in 2025. The direct file program ran as a pilot in 12 states in 2024, allowing tax-payers in those states to file simple tax returns using a free online filing tool directly with the IRS. In 2024 140,000 Americans were able to file this way, they collectively saved $5.6 million in tax preparation fees, claiming $90 million in returns. The average American spends $270 and 13 hours filing their taxes. More than a million people in New Jersey alone will qualify for direct file next year. Oregon opted to join last month. Republicans in Congress lead by Congressmen Adrian Smith of Nebraska and Chuck Edwards of North Carolina have put forward legislation to do away with direct file.
Bonus: American law enforcement arrested co-founder of the Sinaloa Cartel, Ismael "El Mayo" Zambada. El Mayo co-founded the cartel in the 1980s along side Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán. Since El Chapo's incarceration in the United States in 2019, El Mayo has been sole head of the Sinaloa Cartel. Authorities also arrested El Chapo's son, Joaquin Guzman Lopez. The Sinaloa Cartel has been a major player in the cross border drug trade, and has often used extreme violence to further their aims.
#Joe Biden#Thanks Biden#kamala harris#us politics#american politics#politics#climate change#climate crisis#climate action#tribal rights#IRS#taxes#tax reform#El Chapo
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Measure 110, or the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy
So if y'all aren't local to Oregon, you may not have heard that the Oregon state legislature just voted to -- essentially -- gut Measure 110, the ballot measure which decriminalized all drug possession and use in the state. It turned all drug use into a citation instead, and the citation and fine could be waived by completing a health screening. The entire point of Measure 110 was replacing jail with health care and services to help people instead, and while I could probably write a very long side post on the imperfections of that approach, it was at the very least a move in the right direction after decades of the pathetic failure and absolutely racist mess that is the "War on Drugs."
You may hear this pointed to in coming years as a reason why we have to just throw people into jail for using drugs, because Measure 110 failed. And like... it did fail, kinda. Sorta. It failed in that it did not manage to fix everything immediately, and it created some new issues while also exposing older issues more sharply.
It also saved the state $40 million in court costs prosecuting low-level drug offenses, kept thousands of people whose literal only crime was putting a substance into the body of a consenting adult (themselves) out of jail, put at least one addiction services center in every county in the state, invested $300 million in addiction services, and an awful lot more. See the end of this post for more reading.
But where it failed, it failed because it wasn't supported. Police and advocacy groups both asked for specific tickets for this new class of offenses which had the phone number to call to go through the health screening and the information about how going through that health screening would make the ticket go away printed on it prominently - lawmakers declined to fund this. Governor Kotek budgeted $50K to train officers on how to handle these new citations and how to direct people to the treatment and housing supports, but lawmakers thought that training officers on this new law at all was a waste of money. Money moved extremely slowly out to the supports that were supposed to come into play to help people obtain treatment or get access to harm-reduction strategies. People freaked the fuck out about clean-needle outreach, fentanyl testing strip distribution, Narcan training, and other harm-reduction strategies.
And at the end of the day, Measure 110 gets called a failure because it wasn't a silver bullet. Never mind that thousands of people are not sitting in jail right now for basically no fucking reason. Never mind that people have gotten treatment, harm has been reduced, overdoses have been prevented...
So, yeah. You'll probably start hearing this trotted out as proof that, well, we triiiied decriminalizing drugs, but look what happened in Portland! Well, what happened in Oregon is that we got set up to fail, and still didn't fail, just didn't totally succeed.
Measure 110 highlights, quoted directly from Prison Policy Initiative:
The Oregon Health Authority reported a 298% increase in people seeking screening for substance use disorders.
More than 370,000 naloxone doses have been distributed since 2022, and community organizations report more than 7,500 opioid overdose reversals since 2020.
Although overdose rates have increased around the country as more fentanyl has entered the drug supply, Oregon’s increase in overdoses has been similar to other states’ and actually less than neighboring Washington’s. A peer-reviewed study comparing overdose rates in Oregon with the rest of the country after the law went into effect found no link between Measure 110 and increased overdose rates.
There is no evidence that drug use rates in Oregon have increased. A cross-sectional survey of people who use drugs across eight counties in Oregon found that most had been using drugs for years; only 1.5% reported having started after Measure 110 went into effect.
There has been no increase in 911 calls in Oregon cities after Measure 110.
Measure 110 saves Oregonians millions. Oregon is expected to save $37 million between 2023-2025 if Measure 110 continues. This is because it costs up to $35,217 to arrest, adjudicate, incarcerate, and supervise a person taken into custody for a drug misdemeanor — and upwards of $60,000 for a felony. In contrast, treatment costs an average of $9,000 per person. The money saved by Measure 110 goes directly to state funding for addiction and recovery services.
There is no evidence that Measure 110 was associated with a rise in crime. In fact, crime in Oregon was 14% lower in 2023 than it was in 2020.
Further reading/sources:
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THE LAST OF US, and the israeli themes surrounding it
i'm very glad that people were able to see one of the previous things i published, where i complied a series of links that you can use to learn more of what's going on in gaza, how you can help, places you need to boycott, etc. however, at the end of the post, there is a large part of it that is DIRECTLY meant for people who play or watch the last of us, or play the last of us 2.
the last of us 2 in specific is not at all elusive in displaying the chilling themes we are seeing before us today. what boggles my mind, is that a select few individuals are choosing to keep publishing fics, reblogging them, uploading content that has NOTHING to do with what's going on, etc. also, you can't reblog one thing about palestine and claim that you care, then flood your account or people's home pages in fanfiction, especially during a media blackout. it just doesn't work like that.
i took the time to make a post discussing all of the israeli/palestinian themes that the games as a whole, but mainly the second one, display. if you are my mutual, a friend, a fan of my work, or a fan of the game or show, then i 100% demand you read this. if you can read fics for hours, you can spend time to read a post discussing the universe those very fics came from.
a lot of us are now aware of the last of us's nature in regards to the ongoing genocide, but not many people know the specifics of it. after seeing this post last night (the person who made this, you are an angel), i decided to take the time to dive into the specifics of the last of us 2's israeli nature, on a logical level, but also a moral level, using a list of sources to help me along, which will be linked at the end of this post. i will link the sources along the way so you know which sources i got my information from.
regardless of if this changes anyone's mind about ignoring the media blackout, or not giving a fuck about what's going on period, know this: regardless of how you feel, regardless of what you believe, from the river to the see, palestine will be free. at this fucking point, the people who are on the right side will keep speaking out and spreading awareness, regardless if you are here to do it with us. that's it. now, let's get into this.
UPCOMING DISCUSSIONS: neil druckmann, the last of us 1, the last of us 2, the last of us show and zionism in the show's cast, boycotting the game and show, and conclusion
NEIL DRUCKMANN
45-year-old neil druckmann, who was the co-director and co-writer for the last of us 2, was born in tel aviv, israel in 1978. according to the above source, druckmann was raised in a settlement in the west bank, where he was surrounded by violence on a daily basis. comics, movies, and most of all, video games, became an escape for him as a child, before he and his family moved to miami, floridawhen he was 10 years old.
to water down the full story that you can, again, read here, druckmann went to college to major in criminology. however, when he was in college, druckmann took a compsci course, that later lead to his major becoming coding as opposed to criminology. soon after, he knew he wanted a career that related to one thing: video games.
in the summer of 2013, the last of us part 1 was released, and it was renowned as one of best video games to have ever been made. in 2020, druckmann and nd released the last of us part 2, followed by the 2022 release of HBO's show based on the first video game. druckmann played a huge part on set, being not only the co-creator and co-writer of the show, but also having directed an episode himself. druckmann will remain involved in the second season of the show.
bringing up neil druckmann’s background is a crucial aspect of what’s upcoming in this post, hence why i wanted to discuss it at all. druckmann growing up in israel is one of the sole reasons the last of us was ever made at all, and not only that: it is the reason why the second game is the way it is, because neil druckmann planted his israeli ideologies right into it.
so, let’s speak on it.
THE LAST OF US 1
on the official the last of us podcast, neil druckmann himself discussed the last of us' link to the israeli-palestinian conflict, and now, genocide. the general consensus was that people will go ridiculously far for the people that they love. this idea of druckmann's was revealed when he discussed the first time the main character of the first game, joel miller, kills somebody to keep his daughter, sarah, safe from harm. this is one of the first scenes in the game prior to the time jump, where the pair's neighbor becomes infected, and attacks them. joel uses a gun to kill him so that the neighbor doesn't harm sarah.
the following is a quote i would like to copy from this link word for word: "Druckmann said he follows "a lot of Israeli politics" and compared the incident to Israel's release of hundreds of Palestinians prisoners in exchange for the captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit in 2011."
the plot of the first game, as neil druckmann explained, is based around a moral dilemma. he discusses how if joel had to kill a man to save a random kid, would he have done it? druckmann himself says, "but when it was his tribe, his daughter, there was no question about what he was going to do."
while the first game, in my opinion, isn't as heavily centered around israeli themes as the second game is, regardless, it is heavily crucial to note that the basis of the first game derived from a real-life incident involving israel and palestine, where hundreds of palestinian people (edit: i believe it is more than 1,000) were released from imprisonment, all in exchange for one israeli soldier. in the second game, the israeli-palestinian themes, if you look closely enough, scream out at you.
let's talk about it.
THE LAST OF US 2
"There is a common saying that if you seek revenge, you should dig two graves. Playing The Last of Us Part II is like being made to dig those graves with your teeth (Zacny)."
nd's 2022 the last of us part II is described down to the last letter in the above quote, albeit the game's utterly obvious israeli nature. in this post, the creator, rob zacny, goes on to discuss the game's theme of a "cycle of violence," and how the game reminds you in each grotesque encounter of the cruel ideology behind that. due to what occurs in the last of us 1, joel, basically, reaps what he sows when he is murdered for killing a surgeon who, along with the group said surgeon was a member of, the fireflies, was planning to perform surgery on ellie, who joel had since grown close to, in search of a cure for the infection that has plagued their world for decades. four years later, the second playable character in the game, who is introduced in the first half hour or so, abby anderson, kills joel to avenge the surgeon who was murdered, who happened to be her father. from then on, the game follows what, again, can only be described as a "cycle of violence." joel kills abby's dad, abby kills joel, ellie kills all of abby's friends, aims to kill abby in the final battle of the game, but spares abby when ellie's conscious morally attacks her for her decisions.
throughout the 24 odd hour gameplay, the player is allowed to play as ellie and abby, abby's parts of the game being arguably longer than ellie's. the idea this, i believe, is meant to introduce, is one of perspective: the player is meant to be loyal to joel miller once the first game has been finished, so when he is killed, they are inclined to make abby pay for it. however, abby's perspective, both in the past and as the present course of the game goes on, is meant to make the player understand why she did what she did. thus, the moral: there are no good guys in this game. every person is as equally bad as the following, and no one is innocent. however, when we consider the israeli-palestinian nature of this ideology and how it is presented in the last of us part 2, it simply doesn't work like this.
“I suspect that some players, if they consciously clock the parallels at all, will think The Last of Us Part II is taking a balanced and fair perspective on that conflict, humanizing and exposing flaws in both sides of its in-game analogues. But as someone who grew up in Israel, I recognized a familiar, firmly Israeli way of seeing and explaining the conflict which tries to appear evenhanded and even enlightened, but in practice marginalizes Palestinian experience in a manner that perpetuates a horrific status quo (Maiberg).”
when discussing the last of us part 2’s plot, one could 100% argue that there really aren’t good guys on the dual sides of the game. if you compare ellie and abby, you know that ellie went on a murder frenzy to get revenge on abby for killing joel. on abby’s side of it all, you know that abby wasn’t all that great before coming across lev and yara, and even then, she killed people to do what everyone in said world aims to do: survive. prior to finding lev and yara, abby had killed numerous people before, and did, as the player sees, handle joel very cruelly before she ended up killing him. here’s one more example, one that’s more random (but it’s simply to compare abby vs. ellie’s people, if you will): joel and manny. joel went on a cross country murder spree to keep ellie safe, and killed a building full of people at the end of the game to save her life. in regards to manny, if you recall a discussion that manny and mel had in the beginning of abby’s parts of the game, the pair are discussing a happening where a group aside from the wlf, the seraphites (which we will discuss later) attacked them because the wlf killed children who were a part of their (the seraphite’s) group. manny voiced how he would prefer to keep their people (the wlf) safe, and challenges mel, implying that those “kids” weren’t really kids, because they were the ones who attacked their guys (the wlf) in the first place. as a general consensus, manny kills several people throughout the course of the game, which can be inferred or seen by the player, making him, for the sake of what i’m getting at, a bad guy.
we see in the game how ellie and abby’s people are unanimously bad. the last of us is set in a world where laws and morals are thrown out the window for the sake of survival, so this is no surprise. however, this dual perspective, “no bad guy,” ideology simply doesn’t apply in the world today. you may compare ellie vs. abby, or joel vs. manny, or bring in more characters in the game, such as tommy, nora, etc, claiming that all parties are bad. that makes perfect sense. but think about it like this: if this is meant to represent the israeli-palestinian perspective, and i give you the scenario of a five-year-old child versus a full-grown IDF soldier, what would you say? isn’t there an obvious answer as to who is in the wrong and who’s not? maiberg is 100% right in claiming that the game marginalizes the real-life palestinian experience. abby, ellie, joel, manny, etc, are not real people. but the thousands of innocent children who have been killed for the ridiculousness and inhumane israeli regime are. you can’t say each side is equal in awfulness, not when one side is full of innocent men, women, and children, some of which could never make it into a year of their lives. not when if one side pauses their battle, there would be a ceasefire, but if the converse pauses their battle, they would all be dead.
“And then they cheered afterward,” Druckmann, who grew up in Israel, recalls. “It was the cheering that was really chilling to me. … In my mind, I thought, ‘Oh, man, if I could just push a button and kill all these people that committed this horrible act, I would make them feel the same pain that they inflicted on these people.’"
remember how i said discussing neil druckmann's background was crucial? it is. druckmann, who, again, was born in israel, told the Washington Post that the game's cynical themes of revenge and suffering is linked to the 2000 killing of two israeli soldiers (tw, lynching), who were killed by a mob (maiberg). allegedly, some of the incident was remembered in film, that druckmann watched, and in his interview, he explained his angry nature that came about in response to the video, and how he desired vengeance.
the last of us part 2 is mainly set in seattle, washington, where secondary main character, abby anderson, resides in with a militia group named the wlf (which we will also delve into later, alongside the seraphites). maiberg brings out how seattle, on a visual and mechanical level, is based around "a series of checkpoints, security walls, and barriers (Maiberg)." he notes: "[seattle] looks almost exactly like the tall, precast concrete barriers and watch towers Israel started building through the West Bank in 2000." here are side by side images for comparison:
now that we’ve discussed this, let us discuss one of most prevalent aspects of abby’s part of the story: the wlf, and the seraphites. the seraphites are a religious group, nicknamed “the scars” due to the scars the members of said group carve into their faces to display their membership, who the wlf, a makeshift militia group, runs into conflict with following the fall of FEDRA, the country’s former military. in a note in the game, a fedra commander explains that the city of seattle has been lost to the wolves (the wlf), who he names as terrorists. maiberg brings out the following: “Here, there are parallels to early Zionist organisations that fought British rule in the region. These organizations were also described as terrorists, and leaders of those organizations later became leaders in Israel, much like how Isaac, the leader of the Wolves, came to control Seattle. Other in-game notes, scenes of urban ambushes, and the bodies of executed FEDRA officers laboriously walk the player through the cliche "one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter (Maiberg).”
maiberg also discusses a series of manners in which the fictional seraphites resemble real-life palestinians. here are the three ways he specifically discusses in his original post, but there are much more:
“The same note from the Seattle FEDRA commander that bitterly says the Wolves are in charge explains that it's now their responsibility to not only feed and shelter the people of Seattle, but deal with the "religious fanatics," referring to the Scars.
Later in the game, Ellie finds a location called "Martyr Gate," where the Scars' spiritual leader apparently died, indicating a religious significance of a specific and disputed location, and emphasizing the notion of martyrdom as central to their culture.
The Scars are able to get around Wolf patrols and various barriers around the city via an elaborate, secret system of bridges between skyscrapers. These function as a kind of flipped version of the underground tunnels Palestinians use to bypass Israeli blockades and other means of limiting free movement in order to get supplies and carry out attacks on Israel.”
one more post i would like to link is this one, the very reason i decided to make this in the first place. it captures the zionism in the last of us 2, along with the wlf vs. seraphite conflict, perfectly. i very much recommend you read it, as it explains it much better than i can.
the general consensus is this: the idea that the seraphites are equally as bad as the wlf, which implies that palestinians are equally as bad as israelis, simply doesn’t apply in 2024. as i said before: what is so vile and cruel about a newborn baby? a pregnant woman? an innocent man? NOTHING. part of the reason the last of us captures this so poorly is due to the apocalyptic nature of the world the game is set in. obviously, people would go rogue if their lives were put in peril by not only animalistic infected beings, but also humans. however, we live in a real world where laws and morals do, in fact, apply. this isn’t a video game where those are simply discarded. what the wlf and the seraphites did to each other in the last of us 2 could be any other day for them: but what israel is doing to palestine right now is a war crime, a genocide, and plainly vile.
THE LAST OF US SHOW, and zionism in the show’s cast
i don’t think i need to spend a lot of time here, because if you have made it this far, you are well aware of the real nature of the last of us and the last of us 2 already, so you must understand that the show is HBO’s take on the game’s story (which, need i remind you show-wise and game-wise, neil druckmann played a huge part in). i simply bring it up so that people are aware of the fact that the 2022 show is ALSO linked to the ongoing genocide, and the cast is a major part of that (however, if anyone would like me to delve deeper into the show, let me know, and i 100% will).
for the following season which is a sequel to the last, theorized to center around the happenings of the last of us 2, members who are set to play a few crucial characters in the game have been announced. this includes isabela merced, who will play dina woodward, ellie’s romantic partner for most of the game, alongside kaitlyn dever, who will play abby anderson.
many people freaked out when they realized kaitlyn dever will be playing abby, but not for the reason they should have been. if you are a last of us fan, you are well aware that abby’s muscles are a central aspect of her persona. yet, kaitlyn dever is on the skinnier side, and according to some, does not resemble abby.
but this is not the issue that is most crucial to discuss.
kaitlyn dever is a zionist, and so is isabela merced (i am under the impression that both of these claims are true, but i had trouble finding a source i deemed reliable enough to link here. if i do, however, i will). now, while i’m not here to riddle you with conspiracy theories, people believe this (zionism) is the reason kaitlyn dever in specific got the role of abby anderson (there is a separate actress, shannon berry, who more closely resembles abby, but made a post in solidarity with palestine. this is theorized to be the reason why she didn’t get the part, and why kaitlyn dever was announced shortly after this particular actress made said post). let us not also forget that ellie’s actor, bella ramsey, is also in support of israel, which can be seen here.
(edit: i was informed since making this that bella has a story on one of their social medias, showing their alleged support of palestine and calling for a ceasefire. i’m going to link this post where i spoke on it, so you aware of what i think on that front).
all of the previously provided information brings me to my final part of this post: boycotting the games, and boycotting the show.
BOYCOTTING THE GAME AND SHOW
i could go on and on about why this is so crucial, but we would be here forever. however, i’m going to paste in what i wrote in this post surrounding the topic of boycotting, as i personally believe i got it down quite well in regards to the last of us (the show and game). it reads:
"DO NOT BUY TLOU, TLOU REMASTERED, TLOU2, TLOU2 REMASTERED, OR ANY GAME FROM ND! neil druckmann has donated money to the IDF in the past. & where do you think he’s getting his money from? yeah, you got that. watch gameplays, pirate these games, or buy them secondhand. several shops sell used games. & for those of you who went and purchased the game anyway, knowing about all of this? fuck you.
if you think your $10 doesn’t matter, then think about this: okay, one person spends $10 on the game. whatever. but when 100,000 people do it? that’s a million dollars, going into the hands of a zionist, who is using YOUR money to help kill innocent men, women, and children. put that in your pipe and smoke it.
it is not just the games you need to boycott. HBO’S show also needs to be. follow this link to learn of more movies and shows you need to boycott, & the reasons why, including the last of us. let’s also not forget that dina & abby’s actresses are in support of israel, and BELLA RAMSEY, ellie’s actress, has also shown support.
boycott. the fucking. show. there are a million websites where you can pirate it, so you are not giving any of your support to it. resist."
what it comes down to is this: purchasing the game or watching the show directly from nd or HBO is not a must. spreading awareness and speaking out about palestine is. you are more than capable of not purchasing the game, or watching playthroughs, or buying the game secondhand, etc. you are more than capable of pirating the hbo show so that money is not made off of your engagement. it's not that difficult. i have said it once, and i will say it again: boycotting is a form of resistance, and that is the least we can do for those suffering in gaza as you read this. resist. people openly admitting that they went and purchased the game anyway simply make me sick. i hope you know what an awful thing to brag about that is, and how despicable of a human it makes you.
CONCLUSION
there's so much to discuss when it comes down to this topic, and it's possible that in the future, i will make a second part to this. however, for now, i really hope this does suffice. i believe knowing of the game's israeli nature is a step. but knowing the specifics is a leap, one that i need everyone engaged in this fandom to take, hence why i wanted to make this post at all.
i'm not saying anyone needs to quit liking the games or the show or whatever. i'm not saying you need to delete or throw away a game you spent $60 on. i've seen so many people who are way too dense to understand that. what i'm saying is that it's crucial you are at least AWARE of the content you are consuming. aware of why it even came about at all.
in my opinion, you can't separate the game from the roots. but you can remain aware of the inner workings of this world you've grown to love. you can keep spreading awareness about it, and you can do right by the people in gaza by discussing the ongoing genocide, and using your voice as much as you can.
i'm so lucky to have been able to gain a following on here in such a short amount of time, even if that following has gone up and down because i've chosen to post more about palestine as opposed to my previous content (granted, that fact won't deter me at all). i will keep using said following to keep speaking out for the people in gaza, and i encourage you to do the same. keep reblogging. keep speaking up. keep using your voices. the people in gaza need us. be there for them.
FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE 🇵🇸🍉.
LINKS AND RESOURCES:
neil druckmann | the official the last of us podcast | the not so hidden israeli politics of the last of us 2, by emanuel maiberg (i highly recommend you read the full post. it discusses several crucial details i didn't discuss in this post) | galid shalit prisoner exchange | Neil Druckmann Speaking on the Washington Post | 2000 killing of two israeli soldiers (TW: LYNCHING) | 'The Last of Us Part II' Is a Grim and Bloody Spectacle, but a Poor Sequel | Veiling Colonial Violence: The Last of Us Part II, Israel and the Erasure of Power (full disclosure, i did not read the full post. i merely needed the quote in the very beginning of it) | zionism in tlou2 | isabela merced | kaitlyn dever | bella ramsey's support of israel
PALESTINE LINKS
—
#ellie williams#abby anderson#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams x reader#abby anderson x reader#the last of us remastered#the last of us 2 remastered#joel miller#joel miller x reader#ellie tlou#tlou ellie#abby tlou#tlou abby#joel tlou#tlou joel#palestine#gaza#free palestine#free gaza
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MINESTREAM
PAIRING > park jongseong x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.
GENRE > gaming streamers au + minecraft series au / romance + angst + silly and dirty jokes. i like a lot of innuendos because it makes the series more interesting. teen boy humour bc I’m 22 everyone😍 well turning 22 this year💀
FEATURING > the whole of enhypen + my lovely anon's oc, yvette.
SCHEDULE > i have internship coming up so i'll try my best to update it :'D / pretty irregular
TAGLIST > series has ended!
START: 17 February 2024 | END: 20th July 2024
PROFILES: broke people | twitch streamers
ONE: BACK DEMON🤺🤺🤺
TWO: he’s broken
THREE: late night✨🌃
FOUR: tough luck
FIVE: *falls down stairs*
SIX: minecraft with the boys!
SEVEN: play the game
EIGHT: asscrack [written]
NINE: slander park sunghoon day
TEN: new era🌟
ELEVEN: *wink wink*
TWELVE: are you shitting me
THIRTEEN: tell me about it
FOURTEEN: my pretty girl
FIFTEEN: that man is a f*cking simp [written]
SIXTEEN: you’re sexy PERIOD
SEVENTEEN: thats’s depressing, hyung
EIGHTEEN: sudden move
NINETEEN: no❤️
TWENTY: no dogs out
TWENTY-ONE: I cook cream soup
TWENTY-TWO: his lips looks soft [written]
TWENTY-THREE: keywords “shirtless” “about to kiss”
TWENTY-FOUR: I have my ways
TWENTY-FIVE: the blue laced panties
TWENTY-SIX: I’m a werewolf
TWENTY-SEVEN: hoonie has a crush
TWENTY-EIGHT: the jongseong way
TWENTY-NINE: sad wet cat
THIRTY: let’s talk about this another time
THIRTY-ONE: uh oh
THIRTY-TWO: you’ve been blocked
THIRTY-THREE: get the hair dye
THIRTY-FOUR: no invite?
THIRTY-FIVE: MineStream is back!
THIRTY-SIX: in love era
THIRTY-SEVEN: the ugly creature
THIRTY-EIGHT: FINALLY!! [written]
THIRTY-NINE: lump of meat
FOURTY: sloshy sounds
FOURTY-ONE: watch your back
FOURTY-TWO: military wife
FOURTY-THREE: how do I get away with m*rder
FOURTY-FOUR: we’re okay now
FOURTY-FIVE: the d*ck is good
FOURTY-SIX: finale
fin
got any questions about the cast or the smau?
MineStream: asks
©️ filmbyjy | 2022
#MINESTREAM#MINESTREAM smau#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen imagine#enhypen angst#enhypen smau#enhypen fluff#jay#jay imagines#jay imagine#jay angst#jay smau#jay fluff#jongseong#jongseong imagines#jongseong imagine#jongseong angst#jongseong smau#jongseong fluff#park jongseong#park jongseong imagines#park jongseong imagine#park jongseong angst#park jongseong smau#park jongseong fluff#kpop#kpop smau#smau
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Here is everything that every driver has said about the Max-Lando contact in Austria 2024:
Nico did take the time to look at the incident again. 'Verstappen didn't swerve towards Lando and he also left Norris a car width of space. And on the left there was a kerb and a large run-off zone, no wall. I think the stewards have intervened quite a bit in Austria, more than usual and maybe a little too much even,' the German concludes.
Yuki also does not think Verstappen's action in Spielberg was too harsh and explains: "To be honest, everyone does that." The world champion did not drive dangerously and it was not "moving under braking." It is completely normal to put "a little pressure" on the other driver and not let him overtake voluntarily. And contact can sometimes occur, says Tsunoda. He also believes that there would have been no penalty if there had not been contact in the same situation. "That's part of racing," says the Japanese driver.
Lando himself said: "Honestly, I don't think he needed to apologise. Some of the things I said in the pen after the race were more just because I was frustrated at the time, a lot of adrenaline, a lot of emotions and I probably said some things I didn't necessarily believe in, especially later on in the week.
Daniel said: “I think the contact, that can happen probably nine times out of 10 with no consequence... But I think the outcome was bigger than probably what was actually happening on track. From what I saw, at least nothing seemed over the top. Was it pushing the edge? Probably. But was anything dangerous or reckless? At least from what I've seen, no.”
George said: "Max will push the rules to the limits…as most of the top drivers do!"
Kevin said: "Max paid the price already by having a puncture. So I think some of the things they should just let the drivers sort it out in a natural way, it works out in other racing series very well, IndyCar, Sportscars and in the US, they have that approach and it works out well. The racing is tough over there, everyone understands the rules and it's more simple."
Checo said: "I think Max pushes every single bit to the limit as many top drivers do and when you're racing him it's gonna be a hard and fair battles."
Alex said: “the reality of it was just pure racing, hard racing” between the two drivers. It’s aggressive racing but I think it’s blown out of proportion, in my opinion. "If there's no contact being made then it's very often not talked about. [...] When i saw the the actual incident itself, to me it was just a racing incident. Lando went for that space on the outside, Max thought there was enough space for Lando to go. On paper, there was, but the way that Lando attacked the outside line and went so aggressively to it, you can't move that much in that position. You're kind of stuck in a straight line just because if you turn out the way, you'll end up locking up. So, yeah, it's a racing incident," Albon said. "Because they made contact, no [it wasn't harsh]. [But] if I was Max, I'd be upset if I had a penalty for that."
Charles said: "For me, it was an incident that both could have avoided. I also squeezed Max Verstappen onto the curb in 2022. I know Max’s driving style and how he battles very well because I started racing against him in 2010. I think he’s the driver I know the most and know best"
Honourable mentions to Esteban and Lewis for saying: leave me out of it
#max verstappen#f1#formula 1#nico hulkenberg#lando norris#george russell#yuki tsunoda#daniel ricciardo#british gp 2024#kevin magnussen#checo perez#charles leclerc
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