#no matter of max

[sherlockig]

[crunchchute]

My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!

[aquitainequeen]

Here I am, hours later, still crying about Furiosa and Praetorian Jack. George Miller, Nico Lathouris, Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke are geniuses. They completely sold me on just how much these characters loved each other.

Furiosa coming out of a nightmare, wielding a knife, to be caught by Jack. He doesn’t say it’s all right or that she’s safe, she doesn’t say it was just a bad dream. They don’t say anything. Jack eases her back down to her cot and they settle down, aware of each other.

Jack stitching up Furiosa’s shoulder in a hidden spot in the Citadel, Furiosa showing Jack the peach seed that she’s kept hidden in her hair for so long, proving that the Green Place is out there, asking him to come with her, pressing her forehead to his while cupping the back of his head, showing him her love in the manner of her people, and him returning the gesture. After fifteen years, she’s finally going home, and he’s coming with her.

And then...

Spoilers beyond here!!!

And then:

The battle of the Bullet Farm, which is where the strength and force of their love really started to batter me. Furiosa manages to avoid the ambush and get out of the Farm before the gate closes, and Jack could easily have slipped through the gate to join her, but he sees the enemy forces mustering and knows they’ll quickly be hunted down if there's nothing to stop their pursuers. He shoots off a green flare that clearly tells Furiosa to abandon him and get the hell out of there, intending to sacrifice himself so that she has a chance to escape and set off for the Green Place. Furiosa does drive off, but gets maybe five metres before she decides ‘fuck this’ and goes back in to try and save him. And she saves him from his pursuers and she saves him from falling to his death, and they get to their escape vehicle and drive off, with nary a word spoken or exchanged until they’re on the flat and heading for freedom. And even then, all that’s mentioned is what direction they should take to reach the Green Place. That's it. They don’t need anything else. They survived, they got out, they're together, they’re going to be all right.

And they almost make it. They almost get away.

When they’re captured by Dementus and forced onto their knees, there’s no special close up on them; mostly they’re on the edge of the shot while Dementus is ranting centre stage or screaming into their faces. They pay no heed to him. That love infuriates Dementus. He shrieks, he tears at them, but he can’t break them. He doesn’t matter. What matters is that they spend their last moments touching each other, leaning into each other, pressing their foreheads together, breathing deep, loving each other.

There are no parting words between Furiosa and Jack, no declarations or promises or screams of despair, but it hit me so hard and cut so deep that the second to last time we see Jack’s face, he’s craning desperately to see what’s happening to Furiosa, trying to get one final precious glimpse of her, before he’s quite literally dragged to his awful death.

We don’t see Furiosa’s reaction to her torture on multiple fronts, as she is strung up by her maimed arm and forced to watch Jack die. We’ve seen her scream and weep for her mother, but this moment is hers alone. It’s not for us.

How fitting it is that Jack saves Furiosa one last time, as his execution distracts Dementus and his crew from noticing that Furiosa has cut off her own arm to escape.

The last time we see Jack’s face is in Furiosa’s last nightmare.

Furiosa doesn’t mention Jack in her final showdown with Dementus, when she screams about her mother and her stolen childhood. But from what’s shown to us, I think that the spot in the Citadel when she imprisons Dementus and grows the peach tree in the midst of his emaciated, maggot-ridden body…is the same place where Jack stitched up her wounded shoulder, where she showed him the peach seed, where she asked him to come with her to the Green Place and he accepted, where she showed him her love in the manner of her people, where they embraced. Where she avenged herself and Jack, upon the man who destroyed their lives.

Where Furiosa now plucks the first fruit of the tree to bring to the Five Wives, whom she will bring with her to the Green Place.   

[damienkarras73]

An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI

Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.

Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.

This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.

1. The Pole of Inaccessibility

Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.

You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.

Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!

2. Lessons from the Wasteland

Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.

Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?

…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.

3. The Stowaway

Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.

Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.

Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!

4. Homeward

Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:

He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder

He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation

Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing

Shoots a gun real good

Can drive like nobody's business

So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.

All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.

5. Beyond Vengeance

The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.

Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.

It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.

Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.

[caprifiles]

are you “max is confused why charles is ahead of him in canada” daughter or “max is angry that the strategy team let undercut him by charles in singapore” son ???

[overtake]

Post-Race | Silverstone 2024

[peoplesprincessgeorge]

f1 + txt posts = 10.0

[frillsand]

“It’s called fashion!” Human Actor Wally

Then proceeds to put on the most mid outfit ever seen

Wally makes his bodyguard hold his bags because he says so

Also made Max a puppetsona bc why not

[hamburgernotsohelpful]

From The brink of suicide to Getting help, We Stan a Mental Health King

[sleepytownzzz]

silly little drawing of max i did in some of my clothes as a little self-indulgent doodle for my birthday :,,)

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 27 - Block Out the Haters

Hello beautiful people! How I've missed writing and uploading! I'm so sorry for the delay but this chapter and Across Every Universe part 2 had been in creation for a while. But expect a few updates this weekend!

I love you all and thank you for being so appreciating and patient!

Your body felt as though it was on autopilot as you walked through the paddock on Sunday morning. The weekend was kind to you. You completely dominated all the free practices and you’d be starting the race today on pole. 

However, it wasn’t the weekend that was unkind. 

It was them.

And it was all because of him. 

Checo had decided to show up to the paddock at his former home race on Thursday. And like all “good” journalists do, they ask questions that bate people to speak words that can be turned into something they’re not. 

Yet, the Mexican had spoken out with his chest puffed out and words full of confidence. 

“I see my replacement has done well in the car. Too bad that she’ll be replaced soon enough. Like she did to me, someone will take her seat and brag about how great they are, leaving the old driver in the dust. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Ah yes, only a matter of time until Red Bull drops you. The team that you had complete confidence in was not a ticking time bomb in your mind. 

What if you didn’t convert pole into a win? 

What if you accidentally took Max and yourself out of the race like Charles did to Checo in 2023? 

What if the team can finally see how replaceable you were? 

It had happened before…at Prema. 

Number 1 driver to ending a contract early. 

But this time, you were even further down the totem pole than you were at Prema. 

You were a rookie and the second driver. 

Replaceable and forgettable.

Your headphones were on and blasting music to cover up the nasty words thrown at you from the so-called fans. You had thankfully walked in with Max and Charles, who took the liberty to walk on either side of you. You were slouching as you walked, trying to make yourself smaller between the two men. 

At least you understood that Charles and Max knew how you were feeling. Charles, who had been booed at this very race last year. And Max, who seemed to carry boos wherever he walked. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the large crown surrounding the opening to the garage. Checo was in the middle, smiling widely with sunglasses on his face. You froze, not walking any further. The navy and red clad drivers walked a bit before realizing that you weren’t between them anymore. 

Max’s eyes flitted toward the garage and then toward a signature blue. He put his hand on your shoulder and lightly pulled one of the headphone cushions away from your ear. 

His head jerked in the direction of the blue garage. “Why don’t you go hide in Williams for now. I’ll text you when it’s clear. Christian won’t let them get to you.” 

You silently nodded as Max put the headphones back in place before heading in the direction of the safe garage. 

Charles crossed his arms as he watched you walk away. 

“Merde, I wish Arthur was here this weekend.” 

The Monegasque sighed in relief once he saw Logan sling an arm around your shoulders and lead you away toward the back. Alex was following them, parading his limited edition Oscar Piastri paddle. 

Max was silent as he gazed at the amount of journalists in front of the garage. He was internally cringing, knowing that the journalist would attack him as well. 

Charles threw a smile in his direction as he bumped the sullen Dutchman. 

“Do you need to hide in my garage as well? Be babysat Mr. Verstappen?” 

The Ferrari driver wiggled his eyebrows as Max rolled his eyes. However, he shrugged and looked straight into Charles’s green eyes. 

“Lead the way Mr. Leclerc.” 

Charles’s eyes widened for only a moment before grabbing the backpack attached to Max. The brunette gently led the blond away, knowing that his childhood rival didn’t like crowds any more than you did. 

You had found yourself hidden away in Logan’s room, on a facetime with your boyfriend. Logan was sitting next to you, trying to reach a new high score on whatever game he was playing. Oscar had somehow also found himself in the American’s room and was currently looking at Alex’s paddle. 

The Aussie scoffed as he twirled the offending thing. He was silently listening to you borderline cry to Arthur. 

“And then they threw a water bottle at me. And it was one of the metal ones too!” you cried out, hand rubbing your face. 

Arthur offered you a sad frown. 

“What did you do?” 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I caught it and I kept it.” 

The three men suddenly laughed at your confession. You looked around confused. 

“What? It was a nice one!” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nicer than the one I gave to my brother to give to you.” 

Your eyebrow cocked. “Um no, not Kevin.” 

Logan’s eyes glanced at you as he muttered, “You named your water bottle?” 

You shoved him, making him lose his spot. “You don’t?” 

Oscar suddenly piped up. “That’s a bit childish, don’t you think. And how cliche is it to fall in love with your teammate.” 

That earned him an eyeroll as you threw one of Logan’s pillows at him. He caught it easily. 

“Sorry Os-cah, at least I can act on it. We all can’t secretly be in love with our teammates.” 

A screech erupted from the Aussie’s side of the room. You and Logan giggled as Oscar’s face bloomed red with a deep blush. The pillow came back flying. 

“I am not in love with Lando. And plus, I have a girlfriend.” 

“Sure. Didn’t stop you from almost kissing Arthur that one time.” 

The brunet rolled his eyes. “Number 1, it was through glass. Number 2, he leaned in first.” 

“Excuse me?” you asked into your phone, looking at Arthur through the screen. Said boyfriend stuttered a bit as he tried to come up with an excuse. He only stopped as you spoke again. 

“It’s ok Osc, he has some nice lips.” 

A groan left Logan’s lips as he listened to this conversation. He leaned over and snatched the phone from your hands. 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, poor connection. Call back later.” 

The American pressed the red X as you looked at him in disbelief. Logan quickly deposited your phone back to your lap before picking up his own phone. 

Your mouth was still wide open. 

You were about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Logan huffed as he stood from the couch and walked toward the door. When he opened it, he was met with Christian Horner and a very pouty Max Verstappen. You sheepishly grinned as Christian just silently pointed over his shoulder and turned around, walking away. 

Max stayed at the door, waiting for you as you packed your stuff. You quickly said goodbye to the best friends before following Max back to the Red Bull garage. You noticed his pout on the way. 

“What’s got you so pouty.” 

“I was about to beat Charles at FIFA and then Christian scared me, causing me to misplay and not score.” 

“So Charles won?” 

A huff from the Dutchman let you know that you were correct. 

Thankfully the crowd had died down when you returned. But, to your chagrin, Checo was still there, looking down into your car. Mitch seemed uncomfortable as she stood near, needing to get the last bit of data before talking to you about the strategy. 

You watched as she lightly nudged the Mexican, but was not met with any movement. Your anger rose as he blatantly didn’t move at all. You loudly cleared your throat, making most of the men turn their heads toward your direction, Checo included. 

“I think my strategist needs to be by my car. You wouldn’t mind moving far back to give her some space?” you questioned loudly. 

Perez seemed to get a bit of the message and took multiple steps back. Your jaw clenched as he smirked at you. At that moment, you knew he had done that on purpose. 

You only walked past him, going to your room to get changed. When you walked back out, there was a small interview going on, once again with Checo and now Max. 

The interviewer asked, “So Max, how does it feel to have your old teammate here to watch you win?” 

You could tell that Max wanted to wince at the question, but he let it be. 

Max replied, “Uh, it is nice to see Sergio back in the paddock. It is Mexico after all. But, Y/n is looking very strong and she won Monza from pole. So the team is just going to let us race and I’ll just try to keep up with her.” 

The laugh that the Dutchman let out was obviously forced, but you were thankful for the backing from Max. 

You watched as Checo obnoxiously laughed as he put his hands on Max’s shoulders, shaking the driver just a bit. Max’s shoulders tensed under the hard grip of the ex-driver’s hands. He was thankful that Perez wasn’t doing that to you, or you might have had a bit of PTSD because of it. 

The Mexican began to speak, “Ah Max, always so modest. I bet that he’ll overtake her on the first corner. She might pull a me from last year. Eat some Ferrari tyre and DNF on the first lap. And before you know it, the team is going to drop her. I bet Max would like that. Maybe Daniel will get his rightful seat back.” 

Max jerked away from the hands that gripped his shoulders before speaking, “Y/n happens to be a very safe driver. There might be a bit of fighting between us on the track but that’s just racing. And the seat was never Daniel’s to begin with. It was always her’s. Too bad you couldn’t keep up to keep the seat.” 

If you could see Max’s eyes, you knew that they would be stormy and cold. 

Your eyes wanted to water from the soft words that Max was speaking. He was really defending you to the best of his ability. Your eyes found Christian at the other side and your feet quickly took you toward the father-figure. Yet, you heard a closing statement from Perez that set your nerves ablaze. 

“She won’t get the win. She was lucky in Monza, but that’s all it was. Max DNF-ed, giving her the win. This race will truly show you how talented she truly is.” 

Your shoulders deflated as you tapped Christian’s shoulder, nodding over at the journalist. Christian’s eyes widened as he stalked toward the trio. He had anger in his eyes. 

“I told you, no more journalists or interviews in the garage. The race is about to start,” the Briton stated, voice ice cold. 

The journalist visibly gulped before packing up quickly and walking away. Max took this opportunity to also find his way back to your side. The two of you watched as Christian completely scolded the Mexican. You couldn’t hear it, but whatever your team principal said, it make Checo red with embarrassment. 

Max gave you a shit-eating grin before pulling you into a hug. 

“Thanks for being my best teammate kid. You’ve changed me for the better. Let’s go get you that second win.” 

You pulled away with tears in your eyes as you laughed a bit. 

“You’re just going to let me win? Thee Max Verstappen purposely losing a race to little old me?” 

The Dutchman shook his head. “No, I’m not going to let you win. You’re going to take it from me.” 

Well, Checo was right about only one thing. 

Max did overtake you on the first turn. 

But that was it. 

You didn’t eat Ferrari tyre. 

Your seat was yours to keep. 

And Max was right about everything. 

You made him work for the lead and overtook him on the second to last lap. Your cars fought for all they could give, drivers wanting another taste of victory. 

For Max, it seemed like it had been a while. 

For you, it was like Monza was yesterday. 

And that sweetness from the win. The nickname you earned there from the Italians (who were much nicer). 

Charles Leclerc, the Predestined. 

Max Verstappen, the Inevitable. 

Y/n L/n, the Long Awaited. 

The victory was oh so sweet. Maybe you just really had to learn to block out the haters. It’s what you should have done at the beginning of the weekend. 

But you showed everyone who you were as you stook on the nose of you trusted Red Bull. Fists near your body as you yelled, hunched over. 

Max was right behind you, followed by the familiar Ferrari of Charles Leclerc. The two rivals watched as you pointed at the now booing crowd. They laughed as your motioned that you couldn’t hear them, cupping your hand by your helmet where your ear would have been and shaking your head. You shrugged and jumped off. 

Your hand clasped Max’s hand and then Charles’s. You walked (more like skipped) by your team, being pulled in by the mechanics. 

You took your helmet off quickly and got in line to be interviewed. Thankfully, for once, it was a woman. 

She was smiling widely as she spoke into the microphone. 

“Y/n that was splendid driving you did out there. And congratulations on your second win. I know this win is a little different than Monza, so tell me a bit about your race and how you’re feeling.” 

You smiled as you spoke into the mic that you held. 

“Ah well, this is very different from Monza. It was fun to race against my teammate. Normally, I’m behind him getting a nice tow, but the team really wanted to see us just go at it. Obviously, at the end of the day, Red Bull is what matters, but I had fun with Max. And this win just feel more special because I can tell that not a lot of people wanted me to win.” 

You were huffing by the end of your statement, but the lady was grinning at your answer.

“Well, I will let you go celebrate, but mighty well done!” 

You skipped a bit to the cool down room before heading to the podium. You wanted to follow Charles and Max, but someone led you down to the little lift where your car was waiting. 

You knew that Charles and Max had already walked out when the lift slowly started to rise. On your head was the biggest sombrero you had ever seen. You climbed up on the nose of your car and sat cross-legged as you slowly rose. Once it stopped, you took your place at the top step and put your hands behind your back. 

Jokingly, you took the hat off and placed it on Max’s head. He only rolled his eyes (but kept it on for your amusement). 

People tried to yell and boo during your anthem, but you honestly couldn’t hear them over your own heartbeat. It was nice to see a certain disgruntled Mexican down below, arms crossed as he looked everywhere but up. 

You smirked as you showered champagne onto Max and Charles, with you getting sprayed in return. 

Fuck them haters – honestly. 

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing rookie got a second win and max got a hat! time for a siesta!

due to strong storms and flooding, the Sao Palo Grand Prix is canceled and will not be rescheduled

liked by y/n.nation, formulala_delulu, arthur_leclerc, and 534,209 others

rookie_freshmanyear OH YEAH - THAT'S MY DRIVER

max&co max got the hat back

y/n&max4ever she truly is the best teammate max has ever had

y/n_on_top true, what checo said was horribly wrong

maxverstappen1 ok you're done - no more wins

y/n.89 booooo charles_leclerc certified every other racer hater landonorris tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes oscarpiastri you all can speak for yourselves :(

y/n.nation sad for Brazil but they will be in our thoughts

formulafan still can't believe that the next race is FREAKING VEGAS BABY

rookieroo I know right! what if - hear me out - y/n wins again as a homecoming formulala_delulu ok let's get you back to bed

mericanf1_fan YEAH VEGAS 'MERICAAAAA

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[maxcuntstappen]

F1 via The Interwebs™️ (x)

[scrollonso]

well.. no! die!

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[crimescrimson]

Red's Favourite Gaming Pairings Of All Time [19/?]: Max Caulfield & Chloe Price From Life is Strange (2015)

[syrelivesforptj]

"That isn't enemy's to lovers, that's just Bully x victim!" Okay. Maybe that's what I'm aiming for. Maybe that was my goal. What if I like Bully x victim? Hm? What if I like the trope where someone torments the other because they have the hots for them? HM?