#i made a red bull commercial

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[chubbydino]

since i probably won't finish it...

Max pulled at the clasp of his TAG Heuer Monaco with a lump in his throat. He felt sick. Everyone in the paddock assume it was the Singapore heat, and Max let them think it as he mopped more sweat from his brow. He certainly wasn’t built for humidity. His eyes burned and itched, but not from the stagnant air or sweat dripping into his eyes.

He’d only seen flashes of Daniel since the checkered flag, and each one made Max feel worse than the last. First, the glimpse of him bent over in the cockpit, taking in the moment like it would be his last in a way that made Max’s heart crush itself. Then the brief look to the screens during interview, where he’d seen Daniel’s tears and the fake smile he knew almost as well as his own.

Racing was as exhilarating as it was cruel. Max’s father taught him early. Doom was always licking at his heels, ready to swallow him when he stumbled. Max feared that Daniel was already lost to the shadowy depths, and he’d been too busy fighting for second fucking place to see it. 

“Max?” his press officer called through the door to his driver room. 

“Yes, you can come in,” Max replied, still fussing with the clasp on his watch. He was two holes past the biggest notch—the one from his eighteen year-old wrist. 

Now, he had a girlfriend. One who knew who he really was and let him be it as long as he didn’t make it public. Max had no intention of ever doing that, because he wasn’t fucking gay. He wasn’t. He was just whatever it meant to be in love with someone who happened to be a man. He didn’t like men—only one. He only loved one.

“Daniel left already,” Max’s press officer said, still out of breath from her jog across hospitality.

Max blinked. “What?”

“He changed and left.”

Max’s stomach dropped through the floor. 

He thought of Niki Lauda, of all people. His dad didn’t like Niki. His dad said Niki bet on the wrong horse, that he was an idiot everyone called a genius because he had a stick so far up his ass it talked for him sometimes. Max only spoke to Niki a few times, but one time stood out. One moment, really.

This is the strange thing, Niki said. You send your life so focused on the seconds, then you say goodbye to a friend and never see them again. It will happen when you don’t expect it—just like everything else in this business.

Max cleared his throat. “Did they say where he was going?”

“The airport. He took his rental to turn it in.”

Max tugged the clasp in place. “Really? Who is he flying with? What charter?”

His press officer frowned. Her hair had curled in the humidity. He’d never say anything, but it didn’t look very good.

“Daniel booked a commercial flight,” she said softly. “He, um. He wanted the first plane out.”

Max’s insides twisted up on themselves. He scrambled for his backpack and slung it on. “Thanks for the info. I’m heading out too. Please have travel prep my jet—now.”

A year ago, Christian wouldn’t have allowed this. He’d force Red Bull to pay for a charter before he ever let Daniel fly with normal people. Even in first class, people loved to bother them. Everyone wanted signatures, pictures—they didn’t give a shit how you were feeling or what kind of day you had. 

He called Daniel as he ran for the car park. The phone rang but Daniel didn’t pick up, which meant he was still on land, at least.

Take my plane, he texted. Fuck first class.

The text thread was a barrage of blue. Max hadn’t realized how unresponsive Daniel had become since Friday, but he saw it now.

[verysium]

some hcs abt the bllk boys doing modeling shoots as pro-players? (like what they’d model for and the ways they captivate their audiences and stuff)? ty and love ur works btw 💞💞🫡

idk why but this ask made my brain freeze up and refuse to write anything for 3 days, so apologies if this is late anon:

sae would be so done. i mean....he walked out on a literal interview, so what makes you think he won't walk out on a photoshoot? he probably hates the very idea of plastering his face all over billboards and magazines. but his manager said that he was in desperate need of good publicity, especially after that stunt he pulled with the last commercial endorsement. if sae was forced to model though, he'd definitely be as stiff as a board. no facial expressions whatsoever and always sticks to one pose. oftentimes, this involves him facing the wall and only showing half his face. if the photographer wants a full frontal, he's going to have to deal with sae's "i don't want to be here and i'm being held hostage" face. even if sae does try smiling, it looks more like a grimace. the only redeeming quality here is that he is good-looking. if you look at the official art, he doesn't even have to try to get all of you drooling over him. that face card does not decline. like ever. so the shoots usually wrap up pretty quickly because out of the 100 images taken, at least half are going to be usable. he's photogenic from any angle.

kaiser would strike a pose for everything, even his own mugshot. i picture him as that one johnny depp advertisement for dior sauvage. blue lighting. a silk blouse with the top button open to show off a sliver of his sculpted chest. his hair is slicked back with gel, and his knuckles are decorated with silver rings. the tattoo just pulls everything together. if not a perfume commercial, then i think he'd model for adidas or some other german brand (maybe even a beer company if he's old enough). i don't think he has any trouble with the actual modeling part of process. he knows how to flaunt himself. the only issue is that kaiser is a lazy perfectionist. he would show up late to the shoots and then stays even later just looking through the shots and choosing which ones to include. puts a lot of time and effort into things like this. after all, his image and his brand are important to him.

shidou would be sponsored by an energy drink brand. like red bull or monster. if not that, then axe body spray lol. as for modeling, i feel like he wouldn't be able to sit still. probably pulls out crazy poses that piss the photographers off on purpose. it always cracks me up how one of his first appearances in the manga is him being muzzled and restrained in a straitjacket inside blue lock's time-out zone. he's so chaotic. you would have to hold him down and shove the camera into his face to actually get a good shot. i also picture him wearing lots of black leather, maybe even silver jewelry (eg. studs, piercings). and of course, you can't forget the hot pink accents.

isagi would model for family-friendly brands. if not that, then just japanese brands in general. i imagine him doing skincare commercials for shiseido or maybe even participating in a campaign for UNIQLO. as for modeling, he would be awkward at first but then gradually get the hang of it. always thanks the team afterwards and is very mindful of the photographer's suggestions. everyone says he is a pleasure to work with.

rin would model for luxury watch brands like TAG heuer or IWC. maybe when he grows older and further develops his career, he might even become an ambassador for louis vuitton or bulgari. overall, his advertisements are very elegant and professional. only endorses high quality products. never looks at the shots afterwards because he hates looking at his own face. gets somewhat embarrassed when his mama points out his billboards and makes clippings of his magazine covers. he absolutely flipped when a brand suggested that he do a collaboration with his brother. so when this collaboration actually did take place, it was like a repeat of the whole messi-ronaldo photoshoot. they didn't actually meet on set. they were just photoshopped together into the same frame.

barou models for calvin klein. lots of denim and shirtless photos. all of the staff got nosebleeds, and his fanbase went wild when the issue was finally released. there's this one image his fans worship religiously where he's posing in his boxers and there's a clear shot of his abs and happy trail. (he's so hot wtf) there's also another shot that wasn't used cus a million people would've been deceased. he's standing there with his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and wearing nothing underneath his denim jacket. his hair is also down, and his skin is all sun-kissed and golden.

reo models streetwear, and this is canon because he has the drip. honestly, his duality needs to be studied because he can go from high class gentleman to bad boy who wears chains and knuckle rings. he'd try all different sorts of styles, and he'd look good doing it. out of all the bllk boys, i feel like reo gets the most sponsorship deals because of his versatility. he does the styling, hair, makeup, posing, editing, etc. honestly, they need to hire him as a creative director already. nagi would tag along behind the scenes, but he'd end up scrolling on his phone the entire day.

[dear-ao3]

who are the 20 f1 meow meows?

max verstappen (fast but an asshole on the track. lives in fear of his cats. winning everything.)

checo perez (might lose his spot. had two separate did not finishes in the same race. kissed another car at the hairpin)

sir lewis hamilton (fashion icon, classiest mother fucker you’ll ever see, knighted, just wants a comeback and to win his 8th world championship)

george russell (walking meme, looks like he belongs in the window of a tommy bahama, says crikey and blimey unironically, the most british person ever)

charles leclerc (the poorest little meow meow, is a millionaire but has a cracked back of his phone, either is fighting for the podium or crashes on the first lap, please dear god let this man win something he has the worst luck i’ve ever seen)

carlos sainz (smooth operator, dunks on everyone’s golf game especially landos, aparently doesn’t eat his pancakes with toppings, drives a volkswagen golf at least sometimes)

lando norris (usually getting told by carlos he sucks at golf, chronically online, has a blanket with george russell’s face on it, gets in trouble for being too sarcastic, please give him a win it’s been 5 years)

oscar piastri (has never once looked like he’s having a good time but almost did once while building a house of cards, hates horoscopes, almost got sued by alpine when he said he wasn’t signing with them after alpine announced he was signing with them, has an iconic mom)

fernando alonso (old man, retired and then came back for some reason, tad villain and he knows it, don’t mention taylor swift around him)

lance stroll (still waiting for his tennis career tbh, his dad bought aston martin to guarantee him a seat, rage monster)

esteban ocon (french, monster of a teammate aparently, once got beat up in the garage by max verstappen, besties with stroll and mick schumacher)

pierre gasley (also french, terrible awful haircut, did i mention he’s french, had his brain chemistry permanently altered by being teammates with yuki, photo dump king)

nico hulkenberg (looks like that one penguin with the weird hair from penguins of madagascar, dad, has raced in over 200 races and never been on the podium)

kevin magnussen (was kicked off haas because they wanted younger drivers only to reappear the next year after they fired one of the drivers for probably funding the russian ukrainian war, once fok smashed a door, has the cutest child)

valtteri bottas (unproblematic king, cyclist, makes his own alcohol, is ass out on netflix and has his own naked calendar called bott ass, mullet mustache man)

zhou guanyu (baby fashion icon, trying his best in a medium shit car, first chinese driver ever in f1)

daniel ricciardo (class clown, made the worst career mistake of leaving red bull and is now trying to get back in, from australia but is a texas cowboy, usually fucking shit up, just wants to tickle his scrotum and touch his nutsack)

yuki tsunoda (wants to chef, was forcibly moved to italy by his team cause he didn’t want to work out with his trainer, short king, usually gets sacrificed to the luck gods, cursed radios)

alex albon (so insanely barbie coded, filmed a cereve commercial in his hotel room with his girlfriend, definitely dyes his own hair with box dye, incredible oldest sibling energy, single-handedly carrying williams)

logan sargeant (what the fuck is a kilometer!!!! only american in f1, usually found in dead last or kissing walls, one of his essential items is heinz burger sauce, says mate with an american accent)

[rickybaby]

maybe Daniel's contract is still under redbull control, so he couldn't stand up and say something…like Lewis couldn't straight up expressing his feeling towards that tyre strategy on singapore…etc etc. anyway, I will use my whole strength to wait patiently until the end of this year, and see what's going on. CAA better has prepared their useless ass for their client, i want to know the TRUTH, not some stereotyped pr expression i’m so done with that.

The more logical reason is yeah, he’s still under contract with red bull in the sense that they haven’t reached a termination agreement. I mean, the pop up has shown just how much intertwined Daniel’s commercial relationship is with the team and a wide variety of sponsors, so all of that would take a lot of time to resolve and agree a proper termination. And Daniel’s silence is probably just about his lawyers trying to get him the best deal out of this.

(But also, the delusional voices — they’re back this weekend. Kym Illman could have made himself useful for once and use his ratiness to tell us which hospitality Nick Thimm was in, who he was spotted talking to and so on. Is he just there to oversee the sale of t-shirts or something more? I need answers.)

[f0point5]

the max to mercedes move will happen after hell freezes over

if red bull goes up in flames or wtv the hell happens, he's just going to retire

this is the man that goes around the paddock every 3rd day saying he's going to retire soon so i srsly doubt he's going to fuck up wtv remaining years he chooses to stay by going to a washed up team

mercedes had their glory but idk whats up w them these days

I don’t see any benefit of Max to Merc for either side.

Max has everything he wants at Red bull. A Newey car, the best race engineer, a team principal who goes to bat for him, grandpa helmut, a competent pit crew, good strategists, undisputed priority in terms of car development…what do Mercedes’ have to offer him. An ambassador role? He has been very open about what he wants to do after f1 and it’s not to be car commercials or hanging around the F1 paddock. I guess Merc could offer him full funding for future ventures but Red bull is sponsoring them now, and Red bull have more of an infrastructure around sponsoring other sports/esports. Plus we know Max has a built in relationship with rb GmbH. So Merc is on the back foot in every aspect.

On Merc’s side…they’re not going to have a good car till 2026 at the earliest. So Toto wants to take a seat away from George, a loyal, consistent driver who probably makes minimal demands, so give the seat to Max for three years before Max can’t be bothered with it anymore? Not to mention Max brings with him his own team which I doubt Toto really wants to deal with. Or he gives Max the seat he’s earmarked for Kimi, Kimi goes to another team, and Toto has done exactly what he did in 2015 - lost a young talent because he was gaga over a ready made package. This is to say nothing of how he will alienate George by bringing Max in as first driver. Toto would really be upsetting the Apple cart in a team that already doesn’t have a clear direction. And he’d be doing that for 3 years of a top driver before he’s back in the same position all over again except once again he’s missed the boat on good young drivers. Maybe if he could get Kimi a Williams seat it could give him a time buffer but even then he’s risking teams approaching Kimi because of how bad Williams is. So I just don’t see that Toto would really get his money’s worth out of Max if I’m honest.

As for Merc and their glory days…the glory days were the engine. They always had questionable strategy and often had slow pit stops. No one noticed because they were 40 seconds ahead. I’m not saying they’re a bad team by any stretch but everything except their car was always an upper midfield operation. On the rare moments when the car/driver couldn’t do all the work, they left the window open for other teams to take wins. That’s why the domination was not like Red Bull’s. They were consistently making mistakes.

[il-predestinato]

Hi! Can we have some context (and a lil' snippet of course 😉) of the evolutionary theory of attraction? Thank you ❤️

Oh yes, absolutely! It's inspired by this sequence from the Imperfects, a Netflix show where one of the characters' superpower is emitting very powerful pheromones. So everyone in her vicinity develops an unstoppable attraction/obsession with her. Specifically, I was inspired by the scene where she sprays a bottle of air freshener at her pursuers to break the pheromone smell and run away. 🤣 Well, I was thinking - our little Monegasque croissant already has VERY. DEVOTED. OBSESSIVE. FANS. What if we just turned that up a notch?

(Also to everyone else, I see your requests in my inbox! Have to bolt after this one but I will get back to you! 🥰)

title: the evolutionary theory of attraction (aka. Charles Leclerc and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Race Weekend)

summary: Of course, it would be typical Charles Leclerc luck that his body would pick the 2022 Monza race weekend to start uncontrollably emitting pheromones. And of course the only person immune to his scent is his very secret crush rival Max Verstappen.

Later, upon reflection - after he prevented a near apocalyptic event on planet Earth, and that was hardly a hyperbole - he would say that it all went to shit in the media pen after free practice. The week had started brightly enough, and Charles at the very least thought he could hold onto some measure of hope until Sunday - as history would suggest for this calendar year, but it seemed like his race weekend took its usual plunge much earlier.

To his best recollection, it started with an innocuous moment with Max Verstappen (typical, as far as unforeseen important events in his life went). Not that Charles willed it or anything, but the contact was initiated by the Dutchman, who brushed an arm against his in the “zoo.” (A term for the media pen that Alex coined affectionately in the drivers’ WhatsApp group, comparing them to animals to be gawked at, poked, and prodded for commercial gain. Albeit, very privileged and pampered animals, as Guanyu pointed out.)

An accidental touch, of course. Out of politeness alone (Max later insisted, while Charles rolled his eyes), the Red Bull driver paused beside him, which was not usual, and Charles waited patiently to receive his usual smile and greeting, but Max didn’t do either. Instead, he scrunched his nose - still slightly sunburned from the summer break - and sniffed twice at the air around Charles, which was unquestionably unusual.

Frowning and suddenly self-conscious, Charles looked down at his slightly sweaty team polo and gave a tentative sniff of his own. Sure, he was a little sweaty, but he didn’t notice any scent other than his usual anti-perspirant.

Max blinked once, twice, and then broke out in a wide smile. The one that scrunched the corners of both of his eyes, which was not something that Charles would ever admit to noticing, but nevertheless had the resulting effect of Charles forgetting whatever thoughts had preceded that moment.

“New body spray?” teased Max. “It’s not bad.”

Charles shook his head. “Flirt,” he muttered under his breath, after making sure the nearest microphone was well out of pick up range, earning both a soft chuckle and even deeper eye crinkles from his rival. If his heart thumped a little loudly, well - he would deny it with his dying breath.

Before either of them could get another word in, Max was promptly whisked away by his press officer to attend his next interview.

Ignoring his poorly disguised disappointment, his own press officer, Mia, beckoned him from a few metres away, directing him towards Ted Kravitz from SkySports. “Last one.”

Plastering a smile to his face, Charles made his way obediently towards Ted, who started off predictably with a question about Ferrari’s recent troubles. He was about halfway through his rehearsed answer about the team working hard to fix their setup issues when it happened again.

Ted, eyes almost half glazed over with a bead of sweat forming on his hairline, turned his head back and forth and… sniffed the air.

Charles was now really starting to feel self-conscious. Faltering mid-sentence, he glanced towards Mia, wondering if she should maybe call for medical assistance for poor Ted, or at the very least give Charles an excuse to leave and take a shower. But she too scrunched her nose and stared at Charles with a half-blank expression.

Ted broke the silence first. “You smell amazing!” exclaimed the reporter.

“Uh, thanks -” he stuttered, bewildered, but Ted cut him off swiftly.

“Charles, how does it feel to be the most handsome driver in the whole paddock?” Without waiting for a response, Ted leaned in - close enough that Charles could smell the other man’s… shampoo? Hair spray? He really didn’t want to know. It took every bit of his media training to not recoil dramatically at the sudden invasion of his personal space. But the SkySports reporter was undaunted, and added, “We must get a drink together after this.”

Deciding that he no longer cared if Head of Communications Silvia Hoffer Frangipane (Mattia may be the Team Principal but Sivia is - well, the boss) showed up in the zoo herself and strangled him then and there, Charles took two stumbling steps backwards and tried to unlock his half-open jaw. Then he tried pinching his arm to wake up from this bizarre nightmare. All that accomplished was a sore arm and a wave of disappointment at the realization that he was very much awake.

Fortunately, Mia intervened. “That’s an inappropriate question -” But Charles’s relief was short-lived. “What you should be asking Charles is how it feels to be the most handsome man in the whole world.”

Charles gaped at her. Either Andrea put hallucinogens instead of vitamins into his breakfast juice, or Twitter was correct and this season has caused him to lose his last shred of sanity.

“Of course,” snapped Ted, clearly annoyed by her interjection. “Charles, I will tell you how handsome you are over dinner. And then we can go back to my hotel room.”

“Over my dead body!” screeched Mia, lunging at the reporter. “I work with Charles. I love him! I have always been in love with him.”

Charles laughed - a hollow, humourless, desperate sound - as he started backing away in earnest.

Noticing his sudden movement, Mia and Ted advanced in his direction, still clawing at each other, and he was suddenly reminded of a scene from a zombie film he dearly regretted watching. Half of the people in the media pen, drivers and reporters alike, had paused their own interviews to stare at him.

Before he could lose his nerve, Charles decided to make a run for it. Ferrari can afford paying the fine.

Predictably, with his lack of luck this season, he managed to barrel straight into Max in his haste, almost knocking both of them to the ground.

“Charles?” He sounded concerned, not grumpy, despite Charles’s best attempt at bowling. “What’s wrong?”

Charles could hear his own rapid breathing and was all too aware of how close Max’s face was to his own. The blue eyes that stared back at him were confused but not unfocused, and the warm hand on Charles’s arm made his skin tingle.

“There’s something going on -” he started, but a new unwelcome touch on his cheek caused him to flinch.

Max’s press officer was no longer next to her charge, but pressed against Charles. “Oh my darling,” she tittered at Charles. “Are you hurt?” She nuzzled - actually nuzzled - his cheek, and Charles nearly swallowed a strand of her hair. “Show me where,” she cooed, unperturbed. “I’ll kiss it better.”

“Okay, what the fuck -” cursed the Red Bull driver, eyes wide in disbelief.

Wrenching his arm out of Max’s grasp, Charles bolted.

[jamiesfootball]

HEY I want financial compensation for the Sisyphus comparisons in oh god you're gonna get it because I felt that in my bones when I read it.

SDFKLDSFL!! Sorry not sorry! I am very proud of that bit! And it very much started as a bit. Fun fact: when the episode aired, I also could not remember the name of the myth guy from that Red Bull commercial.

So what started as a funny 'haha Roy's old too' kind of thing quickly morphed into a '...actually when I think about it, Roy wouldn't see Jamie as Sisyphus either. That's not who he is from Roy's perspective. Roy is literally the guy at the press conference listing off his victories, not his failures. So then it just made sense, thinking of it from Roy's pov that his brain would go 'myth + some guy who lost his wings + Jamie....'

Icarus. It had to be Icarus.

From there well- it just made sense that the person Roy would actually see as Sisyphus was himself. He's the one who keeps fucking things up. He's the one that we last see trying to break the cycle of anger and self-sabotage. He's the one whose old methods are dooming him to repeat mistakes. He's the one, like Sisyphus, who is at rock bottom.

[race-week]

Hi Al, the main reason that teams don’t want Andretti to join is because of the prize money right? Do you know how much of a loss we are talking about?

Hello anon,

The numbers themselves are kind of rough (in reality they would be based on F1’s revenue) according to the terms of the Concorde Agreement, the team prize pot is made up of 50% of the overall commercial rights profit that the series generates.

This money goes into a pot for the teams.

First of all before prize money is allocated, the teams get their bonuses (this equates to about 25% of the teams pot) Ferrari gets their special Ferrari payment which is 5% of the pot. There’s bonuses to teams that have finished P3 or higher in the constructors championship in the past 10 years (Mercedes, Red Bull, McLaren, Williams and Ferrari) and bonuses for teams that have won a title in recent years.

Once these payments have been made, the rest of the money is distributed among the teams on a sliding scale basis, with the top team getting 14% and the bottom squad getting 6%.

For simplicity I assumed that in both cases the pot has $1b in it after bonuses have been taken out (not completely unlikely)

So if Andretti were to join P1 would get $7m less a year in regards to prize money, if F1’s revenue stayed the same.

However there is the anti dilution payment which would be Andretti paying $200m which would be split evenly between the teams, which on average would cover their losses for 4 years.

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

Kiridai if Kiridai were involved in agriculture

Britain edition because I know little to nothing about Japanese agriculture

Hanamiya Makoto

Large animal and equine vet

The type of vet who sells various prescription drugs under the counter (or, to be specific, from the boot of his car): everyone knows and no one calls him out on it, because cheaper drugs are cheaper drugs

There’s a rumour that he used to be a specialist small animal cardiologist abroad, best in the country, and only moved because he may or may not have made an ethically dubious decision that may or may not have resulted in his breaking criminal law

But he also has a great eye for spotting lameness that another vet would miss, and in general his diagnoses are never wrong, so livestock owners flock to him because one consultation almost always gets the job done, and equine owners flock to him because he always finds a problem to explain their paranoia 

Yamazaki Hiroshi 

Has a flock of sheep in the Uplands 

I.e. he spends lambing season in sideways rain and gales, getting soaked to the skin and swearing that he’ll give up on sheep, and yet he never does and never will

Breeds for meat, but dreams of a world where he could breed primarily for wool and earn a living from it 

Has a couple wethers living in his house full time - all were orphaned at birth and thus hand-reared by him, making him too attached to them to send them to slaughter

Also has a slightly deranged collie that still hasn’t quite figured out why it has to leave said wethers alone but herd all the other sheep

Names as many of his sheep as his memory can manage, even though he knows it just makes the goodbyes harder

Furuhashi Kojiro 

Flower farmer - has some bee hives on the side, and grows seasonal vegetables, but his primary focus/income is cut flowers

Has a good 400 varieties of flowers (everything from Achillea to Weigela) growing on his land for commercial use, most of which he will cut and organise for wedding and hotel arrangements and bouquets

Also grows his own rose breeds (one purple to red climbing rose; one mostly white with hints of purple Damask rose) but he rarely, if ever, sells any of the progeny. They’re practically his children, after all - you don’t sell your children

Some of them will see the inside of rose shows, and the climbing rose has been planted at a rose garden, but otherwise they spend his days in his garden

Meanwhile, the other flowers and the foliage both get sold throughout the year, as does the honey and the vegetables (at the local village market), and, though he doesn’t love cutting them, he doesn’t miss them like he would the roses 

Doesn’t use any insecticide or herbicide and very much judges flower farmers that do     

If he’s not silently tending to his plants for hours on end, then he’s grumbling about the loss of insects, and if he’s not grumbling about the loss of insects, he’s frowning reading the latest reports on climate change

His plans for the future involve an exceptionally sharp pair of scissors and a Bonsai tree

Seto Kentato

Large animal vet

Tried small animal for a while, and then equine, but neither worked because he found the owners talked too much or ‘loved their animals too much’ (aka made them obese). Hence moving onto, and sticking with, large animal. 

The farmers he works with know that he doesn’t like to talk too much, and can be brusque, but none of them care because he’s the best large animal vet in the area

Doesn’t particularly like cows but, for reasons unknown, cows really like him (and bulls despise him)

Can be found sleeping at the back of the clinic whenever he’s not on call

Thinking about getting some training and specialising in large zoo animals, for the added challenge - something about rhinos and elephants is calling his name

Hara Kazuya

He was a man child struggling with boredom and too much money for his own good, who therefore decided he’d try his hand at farming

Wasn’t initially sure what to farm - at one point, he was seriously considering snails - until he read that the ostrich industry had collapsed because no one could figure out how to keep them healthy in the UK. And he took that as a challenge.

Hence Hara, the ostrich farmer.

Went through a phase where he had his hair dyed half black and half white, to rep the ostriches

Keeps saying he’ll get a dangerous animal license, so he can get some pet zebras to continue with “the theme”… the mad* lad might just do it

He’s also the kind of owner to ask whether he can give his ostriches weed to help them chill out “because it works for people in the States”… it’s safe to say that his local vets avoid doing his call-outs as much as possible, 

The ostriches like him though :) 

The business is profitable, the animals are healthy so clearly he’s doing something right

*and by mad, I mean despicable. do not keep wild animals as pets. 

[dynamoe]

working out a character design for Billy's crush, the mean clerk from the video store in TOMORROW'S JUST ANOTHER DAY

Drawing any human character next to Billy is hazardous because you can't NOT draw attention to how weird his proportions are. (I even made his head smaller than normal and he still looks like an alien)

That grrrl's got Kim Gordon's shirt from the Sonic Youth video for Bull in the Heather.

I said I wouldn't draw her because I'd rather the reader make up what she looks like in their mind, but... it's been a year, let's give her a face.

First outfit looks too Ruth Bader Ginsburg (she's joins the court in '93 but wasn't famous as "Notorious RGB" yet), maybe if it wasn't black velvet I could use the lace. Other ones are... whatever. The last one is how I dressed in high school (and college, and ten years after and now... shit.) but I'm trying really hard not to make the grrrl into a self-insert or a Mary Sue.

I need to make sure she belongs in their world. Kind of a dick, kind of a failure (in so much you can fail at 18). Representin' that Garafaloid '90s deadpan snark-girl character that was everywhere in the decade. Your Daria. Your Enid Coleslaw. Very hip, crap pop-culture obsessed but also "over it."

The "kinderwhore" (yeah, that's what the style was/is called) style is associated most with Courtney Love (p'too), but you see it in other women fronting rock bands like Kat Bjelland (Babes in Toyland) and Kim Shattuck (The Muffs).

↑ Kim Shattuck and Kat Bjelland (right): Style Icons

The signature look: a "little girl" type of dress (usually thrifted, often an actual child's dress) in velvet with a lace collar and cuffs or a girly floral worn extremely short over ripped tights and big-ass combat boots. Platforms not heels. No make-up or garish "crazy" make up -- blurred red lipstick, smudgy eyes, "bitch" written on your face or your arm with a sharpie.

This is meant to be threatening not sexy. Associate "weak" little girl things (floral dresses, Hello Kitty, pigtails, baby barrettes) with power/aggression. You're calling back to childhood where girls do whatever they want (in an ideal world) not caring what boys think. You're not dressing for men; you stand up for yourself to say "fuck you" to men who want to belittle you.

The sexualization came with the commercialization of the look. You can't have models with smeary make-up and "cunt" written on their tits in marker in the pages of Seventeen magazine. The last gasp further devolves in the 2000s into "punk fetish" shit like Suicide Girls.

Bringing it back to the character design...my character is not in a band. She is not an activist. She's a bored suburban teenager reading about what slightly older girls and women are doing in New York and Portland in zines and thinks it's cool.

She internalizes a lot of the "fuck you" attitude (or has it already and feels validated to express it). She's also a cult movie dork with an obsessive interest that isn't the alt-rock scene, but is similarly niche/all-consuming.

[profworminkle]

gif of a worm from Worms 3D drinking a Red Bull and then proceeding to fly up into the sky, the Red Bull is a utility in the game that lets you jump higher and move faster. This gif is the only evidence of a possible Worms 3D Red Bull commercial that might've been made, I found this years ago on Team17's website for part 8 of Team17's 100 Games, it's very likely a full commercial of a Worms 3D Red Bull crossover exists but it has yet to be found.

[trainsinanime]

Notes:

This looks way too much like an ad for the game for me.

Specifically for the thing where Sony and Nissan did a contest together where they brought a top Gran Turismo player into an actual race car - it seems like they're really just doing a dramatised retelling of that thing, which is either a genius way to do a video game movie, or just self-aggrandisement. I'm leaning towards the latter.

Real life circuits include Le Mans (blue and yellow curbs) and the Red Bull Ring in Austria (the one with the big bull sculpture)

The rail yard is almost certainly hungarian. The one locomotive without numbers is definitely hungarian, the other with the numbers is an austrian class 2068 diesel switcher, probably currently assigned to Rail Cargo Hungary (RCH), the hungarian freight division of the austrian railways ÖBB.

The best way to tell is generally by the lights; the locomotive on the left has clear hungarian light assemblies. I think I should make a post about european railway light assemblies and how you can quickly tell trains based on them one of these days.

I spent all the time trying to figure out where I knew that one guy from (he was the dad in Black Widow) that I completely missed Legolas.

Based on a true story, yes. You made that competition to create that story, then you made a movie about your own competition, and when you do the next round of the competition, you can say "just like in the movies", all to sell more games and consoles.

That steer at the Red Bull Ring in Austria (yes, the race track is owned by the energy drink guys; guess who paid for that sculpture) seems like the kind of thing that should have a nickname, but I couldn't find any.

I love the cars of the bad guys. Gold Lamborghini Huracán GT3? Yeah, that's evil alright! Note that the name Lamborghini does not actually give them an advantage, GT3 has an elaborate "Balance of Performance" system that ensures all cars have the same level of speed around a track by dictating weight, power output, ride height and so on. If you're wondering whether there's ever any drama about this: Oh boy.

If I'm not completely mistaken, the one on the left is the newer EVO 2 version of the car, the one on the right is the older one (note the different front splitter line, the gold line at the bottom lip). Shouldn't be a huge difference, they're subject to the same balance of performance, but supposedly the newer one has better options for setting it up and adjusting it for a given track.

The fact that they have at least real GT3 cars, and at least shots of real LMP1 cars, implies that the behind-the-scenes of this movie may be way more interesting than the actual movie itself.

Is this the Nordschleife? I'm not a big Nordschleife guy, I've only been there twice (only to watch, I'm not taking my car on the track with all the lunatics), but between this and a few shots later in the trailer, I'm fairly certain that it is.

Not sure what that other track with the city background is. Probably something where it's really embarrassing that I don't know.

I think I can tell you the entirety of the plot of this movie right now, with all twists and turns, and I assume so can you.

Part of me goes, "oh, racing cars goo vroom! Gotta watch!"

But the other bigger part of me goes, "pay to watch a commercial for a video game promotional event!?"

[lcstkey]

@lannamused​​ sent  How has Artie grown and developed over the years you have written her? Both in character (i.e her personality) and ooc (i.e changes to her backstory, if any)!

Selena has grown quite a bit. I wrote her About page so many years ago that I worry that it could be outdated or maybe just outgrew it? Like, she can be cold but also compassionate. Selena does care but tries to figure out how to express it whether its terribly wrapped gifts or a listening ear. She feels more human who can learn and grow. [I’m proud of her ;v;] 

She’s also open to using her real name now in her Kingdom Hearts-centric verses. That’s pretty big.

Back when I first started writing her on tumblr, I did have an idea of how her main verse backstory went: her world disappeared long before KH1 along with the other bunch of world that did too, wandered around as a child for too many years, and then come back, as a young adult, after it returns to prevent it from happening again. That was it. LMAO 

Here, I got to flesh out the in-betweens [Snake’s Den, etc.] , attempt to figure out world building [Deliora, the windmill, the Skeleton in the Closet didn’t exist at all back then.], and have her grow through various relationships between other muses I would have never interacted with and NPCs I would have never created had I not brought her to tumblr.  

The Heartsickness keyblade design is probably the only thing that had remained consistent.

I would have not thought of her alternate universes either. Back then, I don’t believe I would have been as open to them as I am now because I was so far down that Kingdom Hearts rabbit hole. That much I can admit embarrassingly enough. They’re an absolute blast.

Eblis and Sonnelion’s designs were much different. Eblis originally had more skin to show and now I’m just...Put some clothes and armor on pls. The design just wasn’t appropriate, especially after the backstory changes, and I’m glad that I made that change. Sonnelion used to be named Pheynix too.

There is one big change that maybe only a few who knew me from before tumblr, and it’s absolutely silly. Selena used to have wings and now she doesn’t. That’s it and I’m glad that I made that change. I used to joke that Darkness gives people wings like that dumb Red Bull commercial.