#pit posting would be good right about now george

[bedforddanes75]

currently:

As promised✨💦

Y'all get to see it first so we can be freaky about it together ;)

Look at him- not only is the sweat dripping down his face, it's making his arms glisten🥵😭

[hockeyshmockey]

Lance Stroll- Biggest Champion

summary: a moment between the oldest wolff and lance after some scary moments in Qatar. lance stroll x wolff reader

warnings: talk about the medical issues in qatar!

wc: 1.1k

“Papa,” you said worriedly as you say next to Toto in the Mercedes garage in Qatar. Since you had begun seeing Lance, throughout this season, the set up usually was you watching your boyfriend and friends race from the Mercedes garage and stepping out to see Lance pre and post race. Unless Chloe was in town where the two of you could be found giggling in the Aston garage, this seemed to work for the two of you.

That day in Qatar had been otherworldly hot. Lance had not been having the greatest weekend, taking ice baths every hour it seemed like and spending a lot of time in his drivers room trying to work through his frustrations. You had joined him some of the time, offering him silent comfort which seemed to be what he needed with all the pressure sitting on his shoulders.

As you and Toto stared at the screens showing several onboards and now sharing Logan’s voluntary retirement, your worry crept up for not only Lance, but your friends as well. A hand fell on your shoulder, squeezing to offer support as Lewis joined your little group. Carmen was standing off to the side with George’s trainer, chewing on her nail as she shared similar worries about her boy in the drivers seat.

“I really can’t believe this,” Lewis shook his head as Logan was wheeled into the Williams garage. “This is so dangerous. The FIA can't let this happen again.”

The group all watched as more and more drivers chimed in over the radios about not feeling well. Alonso pretty much asking his team to throw water over him on his last pit, which they couldn’t do. After another round of Max crossing the line first, finally some relief hit as the groups shoulders lifted knowing their final driver and friends would be getting out of the cars soon.

Watching the other team onboards which your father kept on a separate screen for your benefit, you winced as you watched Alex have to be assisted out of his car. Switching over to Lances, you watched as he sat in his car for a minute before trying to haul himself out. You felt slight relief as he made it from the car, leaning over by the tire for a second. But that relief was short lived.

As you saw him stumble, you gasped, hand covering your mouth as your father frowned, the two of you watching as Lance’s knees buckled and sent him fumbling into the door of the ambulance. Toto put a hand on your back as you both watched medical personnel approach the driver, before the feed was cut.

“Go,” Toto nodded as you looked on helplessly, taking no time before hightailing it from the Mercedes garage to the Aston Martin one down the row.

“Is he ok?” You asked breathlessly as you saw Lawrence and Lance's Engineer standing together with matching frowns.

“He had some trouble with the heat,” Lawrence said as he put a hand on your shoulder in sympathy. “He didn’t look too good getting out of the car but they took him right to the medical center.”

“Will they let us in?” You immediately asked.

“I’ve got to wait for Fernando,” Lawrence sighed, looking over at Ben and Henry. “I think they’ll let Henry in, you want to go with him and work that charm? Check on our boy?”

“I’m on it,” you smiled weakly as Henry nodded, leading you out of the garage to where he grabbed an Aston golf cart and drove you over to the medical center. Considering the state of the drivers, the usually calm area was a mad house with other team members, drivers, and some partners as well.

You followed Henry’s lead as he walked up to one of the track workers. The two spoke for a moment, Henry gesturing over his shoulder to you. As the worker saw you wringing your hands and the clear worry on your face, her own expression softened and she nodded before pointing down the hall.

You hurried after Henry, keeping up with his long strides as the two of you approached a curtained off area. Henry peeked his head in before pulling back the sheets, showing your boyfriend sitting on the bed in no shirt and just his fire proof bottoms.

“Hey mate,” Henry said as he approached the bed, clapping Lances shoulder as the boy smiled up at him tiredly. “Boss man couldn’t get away but wanted us to make sure to come check on ya.”

“I’m alright,” Lance said, his words slightly slurred with exhaustion as he looked past Henry towards you. He reached out a hand, you immediately rushing over to grab it in both of yours. “Just exhausted. They’ve got me on some fluids right now.”

“Some good rest and food will get you right,” Henry squeezed his shoulder before looking back at you. “We’ll I’ll leave you and report back to Lawrence. You both should be able to get back to the garage but if not give me a shout, I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you Henry,” you said softly as he smiled at the both of you before heading back out the way he came. You took a long second now that you were alone to let your eyes take in all of Lance’s face- skin sweaty, eyes tired.

“I really am ok,” he murmured, cupping your cheek as he saw the unshed tears on your lash line. You nuzzled in to his touch, letting out a sigh as you felt some of the weight on your shoulders lift just having him in front of you.

“I’m glad, it was scary out there,” you rasped out, looking at him once more. “A few other guys apparently passed out in the mc post race.”

“God this should’ve never happened,” Lance shook his head. Any further talking was put on pause as a nurse shuffled in, taking stock of Lances IV drip and telling him he would still be here for another hour or so for observation.

“I know I wasn’t at my best this weekend,” Lance admitted thickly. “And I’ve got some apologies to make. But being in the car, feeling like I could’ve gone off at any moment. All I could think about was getting back to you. And telling you how much I adore you, and that I don’t say it enough, but I’m really thankful for you and everything you do for me.”

“Oh schatz,” you said as you leaned in teary eyed again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re doing your best. Your frustration is something everyone understands, we just need to find better ways for you to express it. There is nothing I would change about you. I love you and I love being your biggest champion. There’s no getting rid of me.”

“I love you,” he smiled tiredly, pursing his lips with a pout till you rolled your eyes and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

[sanskari-kanya]

Guess who got 30/30 on her finals’ viva 😭💃

It was the biggest adventure of my goddamn life.

The viva was scheduled at 3 pm today so I was pretty chill. I was like okay I’ll do the hardest ones till late night, grab some good sleep and wake up a little early to revise the rest.

But my university sent a mail at 10:30 pm, saying ✨surprise motherfuckers, the time is changed to 9:30 am, all the best insufferable freshers✨

Post this mail, I had made peace in accepting that I aint gonna get any sleep tonight and I had to revise 4 subjects till 8 am (minus 30 minutes to get my boogie ass ready because I will never enter the uni looking like crap and 30 more minutes to reach the university)

I started studying around 12 am because all we did was cuss the fuck out of the university and exam managers for a bloody 1.5 hours.

Considering my attention span, my study session lasted for approximately 15 minutes before I opened Pinterest and keep scrolling mindlessly until it was suddenly 2 am 🤩. Then I went for a mindless walk around the hostel, disturbed my bf for a good 15 minutes, and realised he wasn’t giving me any attention because he actually studies and uski fati padi thi so I came back in my room and re-started studying. It continued till 5 am (paired with stress eating, gossiping, watching a documentary)

THEN, I ACCIDENTALLY FELL ASLEEP AT 5 AM AND WOKE UP AT 8 AM!?!? I had to leave at 9 am so there was no bloody chance of revising Histology and Radiology that I very confidently left for the morning 🤗 I left the house at 9 and kept a ppt of histological slides open on my phone so I could at least revise SOMETHING.

If this drama was not enough, here is more :

Me and my friend had decided to pair up for the viva but some dude mishandled the list and jumbled the numbers and I had to beg my classmate to go with a random dude so me and bestie could go tgt.

As I was about to enter the viva room, a physical fight broke pit between two students and my examiner walked out to stop the fight and never returned.

I confidently wrong answered a sub question and made the doctor believe that I was right cus I answered everything else too. 10 in Anatomy ✅

Manually picked the harder examiner for Histology because bestie shat in anatomy so I wanted her to score in Histology with the easier examiner. My reactions to the first two questions- ✨ma’am I don’t know✨ and she was glaring me so bad I cannot explain y’all but then by god’s grace, she asked me more questions (redemption arc) that I answered but she gave me 7.5 so I was like okay, I did shit in the beginning so-

Next was physiology and if y’all weren’t aware of my bad reputation with the professor (George), well now you are 🤗 But then I again had a choice to choose my examiner and I chose my favourite teacher from last semester and George was like ✨why are you not sitting with me huh✨ in the most sarcastic tone ever like i would ever voluntarily chose you , kind sir.

End result, I scored full in physiology too which just proves that my physiology wasn’t a problem, George was the problem!

Last was Radiology. I was scared for my life since I slept and didn’t revise radiology AT ALL. But the examiner was impressed by my marks and gave me 2.5 🙂‍↕️

Now if that still wasn’t enough adventure for you, let me introduce you to my bad math skills. 7.5 in Histology + 2.5 in radiology makes 10 which meant I had scored 30/30 but my dumbass forgot math and thought I scored only 27.5 and went out a little sad.

Then a senior dude asked me how was it and I was like ‘Accha tha bas muje ek baat bata histology ke liye maximum kitna hota hai?’ And he was 7.5 and then it hit me ‘Oh bhaiii fir toh muje full mile hai’ 😭😭😭

I’m never forgetting this day. I narrated this entire thing to my mom twice, once to bf, a 30 min voice note to @hum-suffer and now on tumblr.

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

United States 2024

-Thought Lewis would start from the pit lane (to change his setup) but I guess George is?

-“COTA: Constant Outstanding Track Action” (haha how do they come up with these things)

-“I get the feeling that the Scuderia are pretty confident this afternoon” I hope so

-“You’re on your own now” Hello? Taylor Swift?

-Having both Ferraris in a row behind you seems frightening

-WHAT WAS THATTTT

-CHARLESSSS OHMYGODD

(Had to look away for a second at the start and when I looked back a Ferrari was leading and I thought it was Carlos, but it’s Charles????)

-Through goes Leclerc!!!!!!

-Lewis??? Oh no!

-Just remembered that the safety car does in fact exist this season. Welcome back queen.

-“That was just opportunistic for Max”

-I was looking forward to Charles and Max racing! I hope we get it!

-Logan definitely cursed the Williams at his (sort of) home race today- as he should

-Guys I really think cosplaying the McLaren allowed Gasly to mimic their speed as well

-How are we only ten laps in? So much has happened

-Completely forgot to check on how Liam Lawson is doing

-p9, not bad

(Please Daniel come back)

-Carlos: “No power…it’s costing me a lot”

Ferrari: “I know”

I know?? I knowww? Do something about it!

-Go Yuki! Go!

-McLaren to Oscar: “Feedback on Plan A please”

Oscar: “Ambitious”

He has such a way with words

-Unfortunately for Mercedes, I think a good race for them would be just George finishing the race (I mean Lewis is already out, they’re already having a bad day)

-“Found a bit of an issue” Now Red Bull?? Now??

-“What?!” ~George Russell on his 5s penalty.

-So valid

-“Total joke George, with the penalty, total joke”

-Don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but I’m so grateful for radio subtitles.

-No hate to Liam but I will hate if he puts Nico out of the points

-“Hopefully he (Perez) can hunt down Piastri and Norris” Now that’s ambitious

-Did the Haas get new strategists? Did they successfully pull off an undercut?

-Woah, Yuki and Nico!

-“If Gasly gets enough points, Alpine can overtake Williams in the constructors” Yes let’s do that

-“Clever strategy down at Haas” omg

-Now that’s a rookie Fernando Alonso won’t have issues with- let’s go Franco!

-“Don’t leave me out for too long, I don’t want to be under pressure” Ferrari please pull through

-Alex Albon: always bringing the excitement to the midfield

-“It hasn’t gone right for Pierre Gasly in this second stint” Oh well, you can only cosplay someone for so long

-“I don’t know what that means” haha Carlos

-“Germany situation” McLaren pit wall, just saying anything

-Please let me have Charles and Max racing

-I’m asking for a miracle

-So many 5s penalties today

-Well there go my dreams for a Max vs Charles

-“It does look like the Ferraris have got it covered up front” at least that’s going well

-NO KEVIN!

-Okay that wasn’t too bad. I thought he was retiring

-“Couple of feisty drivers here” Yes, Kevin and Franco. Do your thing!

-Franco really is so impressive

-Yellow flag? Yuki?

<interlude cause for the next few minutes all I could hear was my own heartbeat>

-The driving that both Max and Lando have shown today????

-Screaming, crying, throwing up

-HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES LECLERC

-He wins in Monza! He wins in Austin! (Both from p4!)

(Holy shit post race Sainz)

-Funny how the last USGP I watched was also a Ferrari win

-Ferrari wins are always so special. Everyone is so happy; i.e I’m so happy

-🎉🎉🎉

-George actually had a not so bad race himself

-And yay on Haas points!

[insert-stupid-username]

Ranking drivers based on how badly I want them to win a WDC. Dont hate yall this is soley for fun:

Logan Sargeant (listen I know hes off the grid, but come on man I want to be able to scream like an egal. I would have screatched like crazy if he got a point let alone a podium. if this man won a race or WDC I think the US would have exploded from fans losing their mind)(lets just hope he goes to indycar and wins the indy500 to beat the terrible driver accusations)

Lewis Hamilton (come on an 8th WDC as his last year at Mercadies would have been iconic) (Ferrari is gonna crush his 8th WDC dreams with their shitty pit stops)

Oscar Piastri (I just want to know what his reaction would be. mans is stone faced and I love it)

Charles Leclerc (he deserves it after the shit ferrari puts him through) (also I want to know what the state of italy and monaco will be in if/when he wins a WDC) (he honestly can do it not this year but eventially if and only if ferrari actually makes a good car cause he is putting that tractor in places it should not be)

Max Verstappen (love this funny dutch man) (he drives so many fia officals crazy and I love it) (Max Im rooting so hard for you)

George Russell (soley because I want to know what he would say to a WDC win) (like come on yabadabadoo for a race win? what would a WDC win bring out in that man)

Zhou Guanyu (he so sweet and this would finally give him some recognition)

Nico Hulkenberg (only if he can win it by getting second each and every race. Imagen how funny it would be if Nico won a WDC and still not had a maiden gp win)

Kevin Magnussen (cant seperate the hassbands) (also I think it would be funny)

Franco Colapinto (just think of how much more flirty that man would be if he had a WDC to his name)

Liam Lawson (Think of how much more agressive he would be if he had a WDC behind his name) (hes already flipping off senior drivers imagion how crazy he would be)

Alex Albon (Hes so nice) (I would love to see redbulls reaction cause dam they would have fumbled so hard)

Daniel Ricciard (think of australia) (though I dont think it would ever happen)

Yuki Tsunoda (I just want to know what he would say) (like man loves swearing so much) (the fia would hate to see him coming soly becuase of how much swearing would go down)

Carlos Sainz (he gets on my nerves but it would be funny if he won and charles didnt) (imagion the charles tifosi oh they would be pissed)

Checo (Think about how crazy mexico would be if he won, they would be having SO MUCH fun) (I dont want to deal with how redbull and crazy max fans would react if he won and max didnt)

Fernando Alonso (it would be interesting but Im not a fan of his, and he gets on my nerves)

Lance Stroll (I just dont want to deal with everyone saying that his father bought him the WDC)

Pierre Gasly (He ruffles my feathers in a way I cant describe. I just dont like him)

Esteban Ocon (Im not his biggest fan, I think hes just so meh also I dont think anything super crazy would happen if he won so...)

Lando Norris (he has the car right now I just dont like him so hes low on my list) (also I would rather it be charles than lando right now this year) (lando gets on my nerves and I feel like if it happened right now he would be insufferable)

Valtteri Bottas (He would be higher on my list be there is no way James would let that happen) (he would swoop in with his Valtteri its James attitued and make my post change)

[pub-lius]

WAKE UP ITS HAMILTON TIME (hamilton pt 1)

everyone thank richard for getting me to put all my knowledge about alexander hamilton in one place. if you're at all new or confused, @thereallvrb0y once asked me 3 years ago to tell him everything about every historical figure i can, and since then i have been doing that. now we are onto the last one on the list he gave me, and studying hamilton is literally my life's work, so here it is. on tumblr.com. for free.

my sources for this are Ron Chernow and Hamilton himself and a strange amalgamation of knowledge from different museums, documentaries, interviews with historians, and other otherwise publicly accessible knowledge that i have compiled into the vast library inside my mind! you can find my notes in the link in my pinned post. let's go (this historical research is sponsored by the ghost of freddie mercury and my aunt who made me a whole pot of coffee)

Background Information

Ron Chernow loves to talk about how the island of St. Kitts and Nevis was formed, but that's not fucking important. What's important about Hamilton's birthplace is that it was positioned in the Caribbean in such a way that made it a very easily accessible port, however the coastline was pretty smooth which made it generally unideal for mooring ships.

Source: The St. Kitts' Scenic Railway; Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the US Navy by Ian W. Toll, p. 112 ("Basseterre Roads was not a good natural harbor. It was little more than a dent in the otherwise smooth coastline that ran along the western side of the island. There was no pier- visitors were obliged to run their boats directly onto the beach, sometimes surfing in on waves that broke heavily as they reached the shore.")

Now, notice that St. Kitts and Nevis is, in geographic terms, to the right-ish of the Caribbean. That means when you're coming from Jolly Ole England, you might make a pit stop in St. Kitts and Nevis. So if you ignore the fact that the island has no natural harbor (at least not a good one), it might be a good economic prospect for a young merchant, right?

Well, not if that merchant is James Hamilton, because he was an idiot. And I say that lovingly, or at least more lovingly than Ron Chernow did. Ron Chernow also emphasized that St. Kitts and Nevis was filled with the 18th century version of Shameless, and also Jewish people. Ron Chernow might not hate Jewish people, but he does hate the character archetypes in Shameless. In Shameless terms, James Hamilton was like Frank Gallagher.

Disclaimer: knowledge of Shameless is not necessary to understand that being compared to a guy named Frank is not a good thing

I've already made posts about Hamilton's parents and brother (here, if you'd like to read that ig. weirdo), but I want to talk about the things that Hamilton would have learned from his parents. Later in life, Hamilton vaguely alluded to his father's failings in business being due to an excessive amount of generosity and not really understanding where he should and shouldn't spend his money. This did not by any means make Hamilton stingy with his money, or even smart, for that matter, but it did make him want to be something specific: independent.

James Hamilton's tragic flaw was his dependence on other people, whether it was his older brother or Rachel Faucette or his business partners, etc. Due to the position and order in which he was born, James was never destined to be a leader. He wasn't exceptional academically like other non-first-born-sons, such as James Madison, or dispositionally inclined to organize and inspire, like George Washington. He was just a dude, and he was a dude who was not built for 18th century society, especially not in the Caribbean. From what we can tell, James Hamilton was a gullible, moderately intelligent man with symptoms of autism and non-descript mental health issues. He was basically fucked from the get-go.

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow (p. 12-16); Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 25, p. 89, letter to William Jackson, August 26, 1800 ("In a capacity of a merchant he went to St. Kitts, where from too generous and too easy a temper he failed in business and at length fell into indigent circumstances.")

Rachel Faucette was like James Hamilton's polar opposite. She was forced to learn how to provide for herself, not being able to rely on anyone, because that could be ripped out from under her feet at any moment, and the only thing concrete in her life was herself. She was a woman, and that was what most women had to learn at some point.

Rachel was also perfectly poised to be the clear moral guide for young Hamilton. When James Hamilton left, he basically sacrificed any reverence his son might have for him, and instituted Rachel as Hamilton's sole role model for his developmental years and i just burned the shit out of my hand with coffee.

Disclaimer: James Hamilton had nothing to do with me burning the shit out of my hand with coffee, I promise. You can't blame all your problems on deadbeat dads

If you're a Sigmund Freud fan, (good opener, I know), you're aware of the Oedipus Complex, and that's not exactly what I'm talking about, but yk. look it up. This theory proposed by Freud was only partially rejected by the psychological field (due to the fact that not everything is about wanting to fuck your mom and kill your dad, and also that's not the story of Oedipus Rex like. at all??), but the part that still rang true was that children do have a unique attachment to the opposite sex parent.

Psychological studies show that children tend to describe their opposite sex parents more favorably than same sex parents. Why? I don't know, I'm not a psychologist, I'm an 18 year old who drinks coffee like he was 5 kids to raise.

Source: "The Relation between Attachment to Opposite Sex Parents and Attachment to Romantic Partners" by Gary L. Grogan and Dr. Mary E. Pritchard, p. 10 ("However, most significant for the present inquiry were the findings that respondents described their opposite sex parents more favorably, and same sex parents more critically.")

This statistic is visible in Hamilton's descriptions of his parents, and must have been enhanced by James Hamilton's early departure in his son's life, the consequences from that which seemed constant, but also by the reputation his father had built on the island he left Hamilton on. Hamilton would grow up to see his mother not only providing for herself and her children, but also overcoming the consequences of James' actions, which provoked resentment towards his father, and admiration towards his mother. This will develop as a theme throughout his life, but we'll touch on that as he grows up. He isn't even born yet! So let's get on to that.

Source: so when I say Hamilton's description of his mother, I really mean HIS son's, but JCH most likely got this description from his father, Life of Alexander Hamilton by John Church Hamilton, vol. 1, pg. 42 ("...a woman of superior intellect, elevated sentiment, and unusual grace of person and manner. To her he was indebted for his genius."); for the sake of my reliability and reputation, I'll include JCH's description of his grandfather for comparison, Intimate Life of Alexander Hamilton by John Church Hamilton, p. 13 ("Hamilton's father does not appear to have been successful in any pursuit, but in many ways was a great deal of a dreamer, and something of a student, whose chief happiness seemed to be in the society of his beautiful and talented wife, who was in every way intellectually his superior.")

Early Life

Alexander Hamilton was born ginger on January 11, 1755, and I don't entertain the argument that he was born in 1757 because I'm not an anarchist and I believe society has laws (I'm actually lying, I'll talk about the birth year debate in the college section). Hamilton was not, however, born black or Jewish. He was also, potentially, born not James Hamilton's son.

"Wh- WHAT?! *cries*" I hear you say, and I know, it's shocking information, but yes. First off, Hamilton was not black in any percentage more than the Pillsbury dough boy is black. This theory comes from the fact that Rachel Faucette was a lower class woman and therefore we have no proof that she WASN'T partially black. I don't even have to dispute that for anyone with a gram of critical thinking skills to see that that isn't a valid historical hypothesis.

The Jewish thing has a little more merit to it, and there's a whole book about it that I haven't read. There is some evidence to suggest that Rachel Faucette's ex husband, Johann Lavien, could have been a secret Jewish person, and possibly caused Rachel herself to convert, and she tried to pass on that to Hamilton by having a Jewish woman educate him when he was a toddler (that last part is a true fact, and is the earliest piece of information we have about Hamilton's education). If this is true, (and it's nearly impossible to prove true or false because well if Lavien was a secret Jew, it was a secret), it did not impact Hamilton's religious beliefs in any way, and he identified as a Christian throughout his entire life.

We'll do a paternity test on Hamilton later, just hang tight. See, this is how I get you, I say something controversial, and then I don't talk about it until 16 paragraphs later.

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 9 ("A persistent mythology in the Caribbean asserts that Rachel was partly black, making Alexander Hamilton a quadroon or an octoroon. In this obsessively race-conscious society, however, Rachel was invariably listed among the whites on local tax rolls. Her identification as someone of mixed race has no basis in verifiable fact. (See pages 734-35 [this is in Chernow's Acknowledgments, and he just talks about how he used a paper trail to come to this conclusion, and thought genetic research would only confuse the evidence. He also discusses that there is a small chance that Hamilton fathered a black child named William Hamilton, but I can go ahead and tell you that's false due to the fact that Hamilton had just arrived in America when William was born -HWS]) The folklore that Hamilton was mulatto probably arose from the incontestable truth that many, if not most, illegitimate children in the West Indies bore mixed blood."); Life of Alexander Hamilton by John Church Hamilton, vol. 1, p. 42 ("...rarely as he alluded to his personal history, he mentioned with a smile his having been taught to repeat the Decalogue in Hebrew, at the school of a Jewess, when so small that he was placed standing by her side upon a table); Ibid., vol. 7, p. 710-11; Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 26, p. 774, "Comments on Jews"

Hamilton's education began with his mother, who is almost definitely the person who made him fluent in French by the time he came to America. Despite limited access to books (34 books in both French and English to be specific), Hamilton still studied everything he could from a young age, with an early love for learning new things and proving that he was smarter than you. However, most of his education was in the School of Hard Knocks Community College, which was amply provided by the environment around him.

In the height of the British Empire, the Caribbean was essentially a social prison for anyone who broke the moral laws of the colonial, Eurocentric society of the time. This included pirates, prostitutes, drunks, thieves, and basically anyone who didn't fit the mold for a member of high society and/or someone who could serve high society and their lives of luxury. Hamilton, by birth, was one of these people.

Hamilton's father moved the family to St. Croix right before he left, which was a dramatic shift from Hamilton's life on St. Kitts and Nevis. In St. Croix, everyone knew Hamilton's mother as the disgraced ex-wife of Johann Lavien, and therefore knew her two sons as "whore-children", which was a word usually given to illegitimate children. Here, Hamilton was roped in with the degenerates of society, and it was practically said directly to him that he was destined to be unholy, unclean, worthless, and disgusting. Could you believe that this would have an impact on his mental health?

Along with seeing the poor lifestyles of the inhabitants of the Caribbean, Hamilton also saw glimpses into a very different world: ~rich people~. There were few rich white people on the islands, and they owned vast amounts of enslaved people, with the black to white ratio being 8:1 in the Caribbean. These enslaved people were forced to live in horrible conditions, and Hamilton saw it everywhere- his mother owned three people, but they were often rented out to garner profit for the white family, rather than working a plantation as others in the Caribbean did. Violence towards enslaved black people was only part of the violence young Hamilton witnessed in the Caribbean, some of which came in the form of dueling *insert ominous music*

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 18 ("To the extent that dueling later entranced Hamilton to an unhealthy degree, this fascination may have originated in the most fabled event in Nevis in the 1750s [a duel between two men where one of them was killed"); Ibid., p. 19; Ibid., p. 23-24

James Hamilton abandoned the family in 1765, and the reasons he did so are debated, but most likely are due to debt. However, there's another possibility that I've alluded to before: Hamilton's paternity.

So, remember, Rachel Faucette is not a perfect angel, and she also didn't particularly care for matrimony. There is a chance that she was with other men besides Hamilton and Lavien, and though we have no evidence that she was, there is an interesting character I'd like to throw into the mix.

Thomas Stevens, a moderately rich guy, was a merchant who lived on King Street in Charleston, St. Croix, with his wife Ann and his son Edward, who was born a year before Alexander Hamilton. Thomas Stevens was a very generous guy, and Edward Stevens would later be lifelong friends with Alexander Hamilton. And uh. They looked almost exactly the same. I really wish we had a portrait of Edward Stevens, but according to literally everyone, it was hard to tell the difference between him and Hamilton. Now, statistically, we all have some kind of doppelganger out there, but like what are the chances that they grew up down the street from each other and their parents had suspiciously close connections? Now, I'm not saying that Hamilton should have been Alexander Stevens, I think that's pretty irrelevant, but it is possible that Thomas Stevens... you... ARE THE FATHER!!!

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 27-28 ("Nevertheless, in the absence of direct proof, the notion that Alexander was the biological son of Thomas Stevens instead of James Hamilton would clarify many oddities in Hamilton's biography.")

The Hamiltons' life post-dad-desertion was actually somewhat comfortable due to Rachel's kickassery. She established a little store for a source of income, relocated a couple times, rented out the enslaved people (as one does, i guess, that's such a wild phrase), and kept a pet goat for milk and cheese and idk soap or whatever else people make with goat milk. Her sons would help out, possibly providing an origin for Hamilton's incessant need to be productive at all times without resting. At times, they were supported by his aunt Ann Lytton Mitchell, who he would remain loyal to until his death. During this time, as he was old enough to understand what his father did, is probably when his fiercely loyal, chivalrous and family-driven attitude developed.

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 22-23; Ibid., p. 28

I'm so hopped up on caffeine I could do a triathalon.

Hamilton and his mother were both afflicted by a strange and unspecified illness in the winter of 1768. The primary symptom was a severe fever, and they were treated with purgatives, medicinal herbs, and bloodletting. Nothing helped, and Rachel died at 9 pm on February 19. Hamilton miraculously survived.

Immediately, Hamilton and his brother James had everything they owned taken away, indebted by bills charged against them by local debtors. Their half brother inherited whatever else belonged to their mother, which brought up the marital scandal all over again, beginning a legal battle that lasted for around a year. In the end, the two Hamilton brothers were left with two things: jack shit and fuck all.

Custody of the two boys was appointed to their cousin, Peter Lytton. In my notes, I described him as "white trash" and "insane", including the quotes, so idk who said that. Peter Lytton lived with his black mistress and their illegitimate child. He killed himself on July 6, 1769, and what's strange about that is that we don't know if he shot or stabbed himself. I don't know who got confused about the difference between a knife and a gun, but that isn't my problem.

To make a bad situation worse, Peter Lytton didn't leave the boys anything in his will, and neither did his father, who did "his best" to help. His best could have been even just mentioning the name Hamilton in his will, but whatever, I guess.

These events held very important lessons for the young Alexander: 1) nothing lasts forever; 2) everyone dies; 3) the legal system is terrible; 4) rich people hate you; and, most importantly, 5) the only way out was up.

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 22-27

On His Own

This marked a split between Hamilton and his older brother, but this didn't seem to affect him as much as what happened with his parents- possibly because he wasn't biologically his brother, but I don't really care about that. What's more important is that Hamilton was almost entirely on his own, with inconsistent housing, so he couldn't always rely on the Stevenses. He was in a very similar situation that his mother was in at one time not long ago: alone and self reliant.

Hamilton was already working for the mercantile company, Beekman and Cruger. This company was later renamed, so I'll just say that Hamilton worked for Cruger, who was a business man with ties to New York. Hamilton worked as a clerk at this import-export business, giving him the responsibility to monitor intake and outtake as well as the organization of papers and just generally keeping everything in line. Due to the international relevance that was St. Croix, Hamilton often used French in his business dealings. Here, Hamilton perfected his handwriting into that elegant mess we know and can't read, picked up information on shipping/navigation, and learned his famously proficient math skills, particularly in relation to finance and economics.

Hamilton's famously maniacal work ethic began here, but so did his yearning for military valor. The first piece of personal correspondence we have from Hamilton is a letter to bestie Edward Stevens, and was made very famous from The Musical.

"Im confident, Ned that my Youth excludes me from any hopes of immediate Preferment nor do I desire it, but I mean to prepare the way for futurity. Im no Philosopher you see and may be jusly said to Build Castles in the Air. My Folly makes me ashamd and beg youll Conceal it, yet Neddy we have seen such Schemes successfull when the Projector is Constant I shall Conclude saying I wish there was a War. I am Dr Edward Yours Alex Hamilton (sic)"

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 29-30; Alexander Hamilton to Edward Stevens, November 11, 1769, St. Croix; Library of Congress, Image 13 of Alexander Hamilton Papers: General Correspondence, 1734-1804; 1734-1772

When Cruger left St. Croix for New York due to medical reasons in 1771, he left 16 year old Alexander Hamilton in charge of his primary source of income. And you're probably thinking that's a stupid idea. Because it is.

BUT ITS ALEXANDER HAMILTON. SO IT WAS FINE??? Well, fine for everyone besides the captain of the HMS Thunderbolt.

The Thunderbolt pulled into St. Croix's busy harbor after crossing the ocean and manned by a veteran captain, however Hamilton was not satisfied with the outfitting of the ship nor the quality of the goods that had been transported.

"Reflect continually on the unfortunate voyage you have just made and endeavor to make up for the considerable loss therefrom accruing to your owners." -Alexander Hamilton to Captain Newton, February 1, 1772

You can really see Hamilton's "I'm better than you and I know it" attitude shining through, made more shocking than ever than the fact that he was SIXTEEN YEARS OLD and talking to a man who was LITERALLY TWICE HIS AGE. The only reason he didn't lose his job over this is because he was right. The mules that had been transported were in such poor health, Hamilton had to pull strings to get them sold, and the wood was too waterlogged to be sold on the open market, so he sold it to a private buyer who was able to find something to do with them. He showed quick thinking, confidence in his abilities, and managerial skills. It was these skills that would later appeal to George Washington, not his financial abilities, and led to his most important appointment.

Source: Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 1, p. 23, letter to Tileman Cruger, February 1, 1772 ("It would be undoubtedly a great pity that such a vessel [the Thunderbolt] should be lost for the want of them [cannons]."); Ibid., p.4, letter to Captain Newton, February 1, 1772; Alexander Hamilton: A Biography by Forrest McDonald, p. 128 ("Taken aback, Washington replied, 'I always knew Colonel Hamilton to be a man of superior talents, but never supposed that he had any knowledge of finance.")

Cruger's firm also engaged in the Atlantic slave trade, as did the majority of trading firms in the Caribbean and the American south. It was this exposure to the abhorrent conditions on slave ships and the violence African people faced in the triangle trade that shaped Hamilton into a vocal opponent of slavery- when it was convenient. More impactful was the fear he developed of slave revolts, as was very common in the Caribbean because of the disproportionate slave to free/black to white ratio in the islands, and this would later define his views on the French Revolution and public protest in general. He and Thomas Jefferson had this in common.

Hamilton continued studying books in his free time, and the local newspaper, the Royal Danish American Gazette, began publishing poems from an anonymous young writer- obviously it was Hamilton. His poems ranged in subjects, and aren't particularly good, but they're better than any poems I've written angrily in my journal about my evil exes, so that is to his credit.

Hamilton's poems took a religious turn, most likely traceable to the arrival of Reverend Hugh Knox, who took in Hamilton as a mentor. Clergymen were a hot commodity in the hell hole that was the Caribbean, and Knox had a lot of work on his hands, but he took a particular interest in Hamilton, specifically in getting him out of the aforementioned hell hole. He saw that Hamilton was incredibly intelligent and hard working, almost to a fault- he was probably the first person who was genuinely concerned for this dude's health over how much he worked.

Fun fact, Knox also had personal ties to the Burr family, but that is literally only a fun fact and not a sign that Burr and Hamilton were star-crossed lovers in fair Verona or whatever Chernow has deluded himself into thinking.

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 32-33; Ibid., p. 34

Source: National Guard Bureau, "Examining Lessons from Katrina 10 Years Later"

Then, a massive hurricane struck the Caribbean on August 1, 1772. It was incredibly damaging, causing mass destruction in St. Croix, and this is most definitely one that we in the south would evacuate for. Even my dad would evacuate for this one, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to evacuate for Katrina.

In reaction to this event, Hamilton wrote his famous letter to his father detailing and reflecting on the storm. And finally, I'm giving y'all my analysis of this letter that I keep saying I'll do. However, this post is already incredibly long, so I'm going to do it in a google doc and attach it here.

Source: Alexander Hamilton to The Royal Danish American Gazette, September 6, 1772

The letter was published to The Royal Danish American Gazette, which spread around the afflicted community. Knox's congregation gathered money for the anonymous young author (now not very anonymous) to sail to the American mainland for his education. Originally, Hamilton went to study medicine, due to the high demand for doctors in the Caribbean (his knowledge of anatomy would remain helpful throughout his life). However, at some point he decided he would not be going back to the Caribbean, and switched his focus to law, but we'll discuss that more in part two.

Source: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow, p. 37-40

Well, there's part one. I did all of this in one day because um. I don't know, but it is now one in the morning and i have to wake up earlier than normal. so that's fun. i hope y'all enjoyed. shout out to my mom for proofreading half of this, and shout out to my aunt who gave me coffee, that was a horrible idea. i'll be back with part two at some point, which will probably be more concise because hamilton's childhood in the caribbean is where most of the theories are, so yeah. love y'all.

[l-epingle]

oh hungarian gp you are keeping my drama-loving ass FED

first off: oscar maiden win!! lewis 200th podium!! disregarding the whole race that's such a fun result

this is really backing up my belief that it's way more difficult to be a fan of a TEAM rather than individual drivers bc this is technically a mclaren win in the best possible way and yet they look like such fucking idiots like why would i want to root for them

what the hell was up with their strategy?? like they have no bullshit excuses for what they did with the pit stops and the team orders i genuinely don't understand what mclaren was trying to achieve here besides looking like total clowns

coming from an oscar fan i don't think lando deserved the win! oscar had an amazing start and led the race for a good portion and i think that if mclaren had done their pitstops RIGHT and hadnt tried to undercut??? for no reason?? then oscar would've continued to win the race anyway

coming from a FORMULA 1 fan who loves the competitevness of the sport i totally understand why lando would feel like this win was robbed from him. literally not his fault that mclaren are being bozos and i think if i was in his position i wouldn't have given up my place

HOWEVER as i said before i don't think lando DESERVED to win here. no driver is winning races because they DESERVE to there's ton of factors and oftentimes ppl win for no particular reason. take george's recent win bc of the verstappen-norris crash, all the wins thanks to safety car luck, you could even say charles win in monaco is simply thanks to good qualifying and the way the track is designed. so many things happen during a race that are outside of a driver's control and saying someone deserves to win a race is stupid and ruins the point of the race. like if thats what you want then who even needs to race might as well hand out trophies after qualifying or award points just on fastest lap

BRING BACK TEAM RIVALRIES!! so much love to naomi but i do not agree w pretty much anything she was saying formula 1 isnt really a team sport. the driver's championship is won by ONE driver. yes the wcc is based on team pts but i guarantee that every single driver would be totally fine if their team was in last fucking place if it meant that they won the wdc. saying that you can win a championship wo being selfish is CRAZY (especially in front of nico lmaoooo) bc you HAVE to be putting yourself first every single race if you want to win. yes your teammate is your partner but they are also your RIVAL and you are both coworkers and competitors. like so many selfish moments will be looked back on with fondness as long as you win. everyone can joke about multi-21 now bc sebastian vettel is literally a 4-time world champion and he ended up winning that year. no one cares that he was a 'selfish driver' bc he delivered results and getting hung up on being a team player in a sport like this is stupid to me

one thing lando did that DID annoy me tho was his response to lewis's compliment during cooldown like what was that??? he literally just said you were fast and you had to clapback? like lewis wasn't trying to insult lando in any way why'd he have to respond like that...

also nico he just couldn't get through the day without constantly being bombared w flashbacks huh him giving advice to andrea stella regarding TEAM ORDERS is sooooo funny to me

anyway to wrap up this post (rant) here's my fav pic of the day

brocedes reunion, messy ass team radios, return of mad max... this has been my favorite race so far and i hope the rest of the season continues in a similar manner

[cloudylovemuses]

McLaren needs to put their shit together, because this is getting out of hand!

Before I start my rant, I want to make clear that I absolutely Love both Lando and Oscar with all my heart. All this rant is a direct attack to the team and not them!

So let's start at the beginning of the race when Lando once again defends himself from Oscar leaving George open to attack. Oscar has to defend both the cars from George, which leads him leaving the track.

You know what's wrong with that? Lando felt the need to defend himself immediately from his teammate, because the team orders were so vague that he knew this was going to end bad for him.

Oscar instead of letting Lando and himself build a gap between the cars behind and them attacks Lando and takes the lead while pushing Lando to third.

You know what's wrong with that? Oscar thought that this is the chance of him to take the lead, so Lando would keep the Ferrari's behind, because team orders were so vague, that he knew if Lando was behind him he would have to help him.

But, the McLarens are fighting, their pit stops don't work right (shocking) and Suddenly the two Ferrari's are 1-2 with a 11second gap between them.

You know why? Because, the so called "papaya rules" strategy was SO shit that a tractor like Ferrari easily got past them. One didn't defend the other from the rest of the grid, they defend against each other.

Of course Ferrari's strategy wasn't perfect, but Thank God Charles is back on the game and him and Carlos (who only lost his position because his tires were dead) work so well together, that they were able to pull that miracle off.

Before I go to the post race shitshow, please check out what Will Buxton said on F1tv post race show. My guy said exactly what I was thinking. (I don't have a link right now, but I'll add it later.) Here's a quick screenshot, of a thread post about said interview:

So, we see the cool down room, Lando is completely disassociated and Oscar's trying play it cool. Because they know what they did today cost both of them good championship points and a Charles win was just a help for Max, not even Ferrari.

I don't even want to go on, about the video of the p2-3 photoshoot. Both boys look absolutely defeated and it's heartbreaking how McLaren was able to make a P2-3 feel like a P19-20.

These are the absolutely disappointing words of Andrea Stella over here:

Exhibit A

What the actual fuck you mean it's brutal to ask a driver to switch positions? You've already done it in Hungary. You made a mistake, Lando picked up his pace, while Oscar lost his? You prioritized Oscar for what? Lando is closer to winning YOU both championships and you actually decline him?

Exhibit B

What do you mean Oscar's the Future? Lando is supposed to be your present! You need to help HIM rise. Oscar has exactly that, the future, he just got here! You created unnecessary pressure for both of them.

And here's a thread post that goes with the previous text:

On the post race interview:

This is just heartbreaking. Also later on answering another question, they zoomed in a bit on him and he was indeed holding tears. So here's him, defending a team that won't defend him.

McLaren keeps saying that they are a Family and they support each other.

The only support I see is from Lando towards the rest of the team. Oscar is really smart for thinking for himself, he should and good for him. But, Lando needs to do the same if he wants to get HIS championship!

Team is a fucking mess, Oscar knows that and uses it at his advantage and at the wrong times, in my opinion, because he'll find that in front of him. And I don't say that as a judgment, but more like, Imagine what that team has put in his head that he believes that he has to literally kill himself, in order to meet THEIR standards.

Lando needs to be mean, needs to be selfish, needs to stop defending the team and defend himself.

Fuck what people will say, people will always find shit to say. Fuck what the team wants to say, they called you their future and now you're just their leftovers. It's stupid and ridiculous.

Anyways, it's 2:15am and that's all I can remember that I wanted to say. I'm mad, I'm sad, I'm disappointed and I have a headache. This was all I got, I'll come back to you with a couple of links in the morning

[bunnytalksf1]

canadian grand prix (derogatory)

I joke, mostly. As a tifoso I hated every second of that. as a fan of the sport? That race was fucking BRILLIANT.

So, let's start with Ferrari. I think that was the price we had to pay for Monaco. Charles was so fast there that the curse took two weeks to catch up with him! Seriously, though, this man's luck needs to be studied. At least it wasn't a new power unit... small mercies. He was losing half a second on the straights, adding to around 1.2-1.5 seconds over the course of a lap. Then the strategy gamble... bro what the hell was that. Being lapped by the front runners... I had my head in my hands. Sainz also sustained damage in the opening stages from contact (I don't know with who) and was losing downforce. Carlos didn't even say it himself, but Fred did, so that's how you know it's real! So yeah. Ferrari had a shocker of a weekend. Sainz should have bought home points, too. The damage was not an excuse for that off.

Alex Albon. Oh my god. That double overtake on Tsunoda and Leclerc was poetry in motion. He was driving so well today, a shame that he got taken out through no fault of his own, especially when he was on for points.

Max Verstappen made the difference for that win. The Red Bull was NOT the fastest car this weekend - both Mercedes and McLaren were faster. He drove incredibly and there's a reason he's a triple world champion, and there's a reason why he was so dominant last season.

Norris and Russell... Norris underdelivered in quali and paid the price, then made mistakes in the race to lose his shot at the lead. McLaren strategy department and luck also played a factor, I'll admit. Russell messed up big time, multiple times, allowing Max and Lando to get past him. Then subtly (sort of) blaming Lewis for fighting him as for costing him P2... GEORGE YOU STARTED ON POLE AND HE STARTED P7 WHY WERE U THERE.

As a side note, Lewis paid the price for a poor qualifying session, and I really want to see him improve this rapidly since next year he will be against a much better qualifier than GR63 in the form of Charles Leclerc, whose one-lap pace is arguably one of the best on the grid right now, even if the sf-24 isn't allowing him to show it so far. And even though I'm a Charles fan, I want a good fight!

That being said. I'm not a huge fan of conspiracy theories i.e. sabotaging drivers, but. This weekend was very, very strange on Mercedes' part. From FP3, where Lewis dunked about half a second on George, to quali, where Lewis was behind considerably and couldn't seem to make it up. He then said post-race his tyre temps were repeatedly low coming out of the garage (tyre blanket issue), and that's WEIRD. That last double stack putting Lewis onto Hards and GR onto mediums --- also weird! Lewis said after he would rather have not pitted if he knew they'd put mediums onto GR directly behind as his current set were feeling fine. I don't think he had a spare set of new mediums, hence the hards, but- yeah. That tyre offset handed GR the podium at the end, even though it was a pretty cool looking overtake.

KMAG AND HULK AT THE BEGINNING ON THE FULL WETS?? I thought for a hot sec the haas would podium. Then they fucked Kmag's pitstop. Just Haas things!

Sargeant, Tsunoda and Sainz all had avoidable mistakes that cost them points. Sainz in particular, Tsunoda had some braking issues, potentially (?). Daniel points! Yippee!

Daniel woke up and remembered he was a racing driver after being slandered on sky sports by JV. Perez forgot he was a racing driver after he signed his contract extension. Red Bull things!

Perez also had a 3 place grid penalty and RBR was fined 25k for driving back to the pits unsafely with that fucked up rear wing. As they should! It was dangerous! Barcelona's another track where overtaking could potentially be difficult so that might be costly, even more so if Perez can't sort his quali pace out.

Will be interesting to see how things shake up in the European triple header, and whether Mercedes is legitimately fast or if this was just a weird race. I think they benefitted from ferrari and RBR being off their game.

Anyways. Canada was a race that did not exist. It did not happen. Thanks !!

[f0point5]

Okay, I had to work during most of the race which was super unfortunate and I didn't really get to watch the post race interviews until just now and boy..... people talk about media literacy but completely disregard one of Lando's interviews.

Lando Norris. I almost feel like something happened between Mexico and Brazil because his attitude just seemed off. Arguing about positions in the sprint, getting snippy with the reporter asking about Max and the Championship for the millionth time and then everything that was the post race interviews. The clip thats going around with talent and luck IS taken out of context because he was referring to pitting under the red flag. HOWEVER, I wouldn't have used talent or luck but rather say they had a better strategy than we did and it paid off. Lando was the one begging on the radios to pit laps before he did and now he's frustrated that everyone else got a free pit stop. They took a gamble when they pit and it didn't work. Them be the breaks. Lando saying that "they didn't do anything wrong" and "I don't care what people have to say" You do care and thats fine. But just admit that McLaren had a bad strategy. It's fine. That happens to everyone. Then he's complaining that no one agrees with the rule about being able to change your tires under a red flag unless it benefits them. Lando - didn't you win your first GP under similar circumstances with a free pit? Pot meet Kettle. Now in a DIFFERENT interview Lando clearly states that George deserved the win over anyone else and that yes Max drove well but he got a bit lucky. Luck is will always be involved with racing and to lean so heavily into that luck was a big factor in Max's win is a little cringe. Lando did admit he made mistakes but his whole vibe was VERY defensive and just off putting. Get this man PR training and an agent ASAP. Regardless - this man shouldn't be receiving any sort of hate or death threats - no driver should be.

George Russell. George was frustrated and rightly so. You can clearly see in his radio messages he was fighting to stay out to pit under the red flag but was told to come in early by his pit lane which ultimate screwed him over. He just expressed his frustration with the bad strategy call. A much different vibe than Lando.

I feel like it physically pained Buxton to say race winner Max Verstappen 🤣 It was also so frustrating yet slightly funny watching them have to compliment Max after his dominate performance after all the shit they were talking about him in previous weeks.

James Hinchcliffe described it perfectly "Some teams made the right calls at the right time" McLaren and Lando's pit stop was not it.

Buxton, when talking about all the infringements and penalties in regards to the aborted start, said Rules are Rules and Lando CLEARLY broke the aborted start procedure yet he ONLY got a fine and reprimand.... okay we all know if it was Max he would have gotten something worse except Max actually knows the rules so he wouldn't have done it in the first place.

Buxton again saying that it was a good thing the race started earlier with the amount of meetings with drivers they have (for the first time in a while Max wasn't involved 🤣)

Alpine deserves SO much praise. Seeing that whole garage, Pierre and Estie so happy was just just so heartwarming.

I also cannot stop smiling from how happy Max was with this race win. It looked near impossible with how quali went. But boy did he use every piece of luck and talent and pure spite to get that RB20 to P1. 17 Fastest laps to the point where GP was like Max cut it out you've made your point 🤣 It feels like such weight off the shoulders and relief after the last few races. Fingers crossed this momentum can keep up the last 3 races.

I hate McLarens hats. Lol they look like visors with the placement of the black coloring ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Apparently, Williams doesn't have enough parts to fix the cars by Vegas. I don't have a ton of information on this but I saw this briefly on a TikTok from someone who has an in at Williams.

Thank you for letting me rant and getting all that off my chest.

Oh I could talk all dayyyy about those Lando interviews and I did. I think I’ve talked that whole thing to death lol but I just need to reiterate…Red Bull and Alpine made a calculated decision to wait for a red flag. Are they lucky it worked out? Yes. But they made a gamble, they weren’t just sitting there waiting for the race to come to them.

McLaren and Merc made bad calls. And I will introduce my latest evidence of this - they both put on new inters? When the rain was clearly increasing? So they gambled on not having to come back for full wets…what the fuck kind of move was that when Max said you could pretty much drive a jet ski in the puddles on the camber? So not only did they pit and lose track position, if they thought the red flag wasn’t coming surely they should have at least gambled in wet tyres? Sorry but I think they shit the bed there. And what reallyyyy gets my goat about it is that Lucky Lando over there wanted to pit earlier. George at least didn’t want to come in at all but Lando was out there on lap 10 wanting to come in and even the engineers were perplexed. Sir, you weren’t unlucky you were just wrong.

I said I wasn’t going to rant about it again but I couldn’t stop myself because wow those comments were stupid 😂

I don’t know what happened to him after Mexico, he just cracked like an egg. Idk if it was the moment he realised the WDC wasn’t happening or what but he turned up in the paddock like “I don’t care don’t even talk to me who is Max don’t know him WDC never heard of her”. Fair enough bro I get it you’re bored of the questions and I understand why he feels he needs to defend himself but him saying Max has to change his driving like Lando what are you smoking? 3x WDC has to change his driving style because boy with fast car says so? Don’t make me laugh. It’s unfortunate because he came back from autumn break in such a good place and that seems to have evaporated, which is why I say, the paddock is not a place that brings out his most likeable qualities.

If I had to guess, I think Mexico really took him out of it a bit. He said the moment with Max was a “momentum killer” and I think he meant for more than the race. I think he realised that unless he is able to avoid Max entirely till Abu Dhabi he’s a bit fucked because Max will burn every single bridge in pursuit of that championship. I don’t think Lando can comprehend that level of ruthlessness and I think he was like “well wtf can I do now because if I get within 100m of him I’m risking a DNF”. He seemed annoyed but also quite hopeless even on Thursday. He did not seem like he had any confidence in the championship battle after Mexico.

Will Buxton and Damon Hill having to watch that drive…I hope it burnedddd. Damon in the post race with Christian…man was seething. It was like all his Schumacher trauma was playing like a film reel in his head. they’re so unnerved by him. It is delicious.

The Baguettes brought so much to the podium. Those guys in the best cars, they get on the podium and all they’re thinking is they didn’t win, and they’re doing maths in their head for points totals. It was such a refreshing change to see two guys on the podium who were nothing but overjoyed to be there. And the fact that they were so happy to do it together was so touching. You can feel that there is almost like a familial bond between them - complicated but inescapable. Also having them in the cool-down really drove home that the vibes have been pretty off in there for a long time.

Max cooked, fished out, and served in that race. The unadulterated rage simmering in him after that qualifying did something to him. And shoutout to GP because the way he spoke to Max through the race was so spot on. He knew what he needed to hear the whole time, it was like hive mind. Their relationship is something so special. Hearing GP clap over the radio and him betting with Helmut on Max making the podium, it’s too cute. I was worried as hell when he kept banging in those fastest laps though. I was like he’s going to cook the engine or spin to win like in Hungary 22 😭 but as always he knew his limits.

Mclaren’s hats looked better with the numbers in blue. Black is too harsh on that orange and it always looks like a Halloween thing.

Not surprised about Williams. I wonder what kind of conversations they’re having about Albon because since Colapinto arrived Alex has been on fraud watch and I don’t think he likes having a good teammate. Will be interesting to see what happens when sainz arrives

[silentreigns]

Hungarian GP 2023 Post Race Reflection

I said I wasn't gonna watch the rest of the race. But like some teams on the grid, I lied and actually watched the whole thing because I had nothing to do. The race was terrible but it had some funny moments so I will give it a 5.5/10

Max having his best start of the season when Lewis is on pole is so... 😭 bro couldn't even give us 1 turn in the lead

Oscar being second was pretty cool to see, like I'm gagged at the amount of progress McLaren has made

I am so sad about the lap 1 incident. Both Alpines double DNFing in back to back races suuuuuuuucks. I need the Alpines from Monaco to come back

Praising Checo for overtaking cars because he's not that good at qualifying will never not be funny

Was George suggesting to pit on lap 64 strategic? Like did he know that the Ferraris would react that way and slow down considerably? Did George know that if he overtook the Ferraris he would be ahead of Carlos in the driver's standings? He's not dumb to suggest pitting and losing spots at the end. I think he was just in a silly goofy mood.

Someone explain to me how Lewis gained so much pace in the last 5 laps? Like what did the Merc engineers do? At one point he was like 5 seconds behind Checo but in the final lap he was 1.5 seconds behind? What is going ON

I don't know how much Charles and Carlos will take before one of them snaps on the radio. A bad pitstop, having to make the strategy calls, a 5 second penalty, like they had everything go wrong. At least they got more points than in Silverstone... 😭😭😭

Lando saying "they're not racing for anything" is hilarious if you remember how the McLarens were back in Miami. Bro you finished 17th in a race where all 20 cars crossed the finish line... 😭. Anyways thankfully he's not in that position now and he's consistently fighting for podiums

AlphaTauri screwed Yuki over so much with that 7 second pitstop, I'm baffled. They keep outdoing themselves to be the worst

Aston Martin are gonna bounce back eventually, right??? I miss them fighting for podiums

We are gonna hear nonstop about how RedBull are making history. And it's mostly just Max doing it by himself. Checo could contribute more if he just figured out how to qualify like he did in the beginning of the season

The excitement from Saturday's quali tricked me into believing that the race would be just as exciting and that's kinda my fault for thinking the race would end in any other way

I don't expect Spa to be better than this weekend either like they can just hand Max and RedBull their trophies already

[bohnsky]

two and a half months into liking f1, here are my favorites:

1. Alex Albon

I think this is obvious. I just love Alex too much. Sadly this weekend wasn't great for Williams and it stressed me so much that Valtteri was on a mission to snatch P11 from my boy, but Albono's defending is so good, still sadly no points😭😭

2. Sergio Perez

This was a very hard decision, but I thought it's true for me right now and I can still change it back later so now Checo is on second for now.

I'm so obsessed with this man, I even wrote a Chestappen fic. It rarely happens that I'm so inspired that I actually put my ideas on paper.

FP1 made me want to cry and the German commentator couldn't stop hating (it wasn't really hating, just stating facts with a negative untertone, but it annoyed me) and I'm really starting to dislike Ralf Schumacher, he's always acting like he's so much better than every other driver lol (easy to say those things when you're not driving anymore, yes I'm looking at both of you, Ralf and Nico). But honestly I'm exaggerating, they're not that bad.

Also all the memes about Checo's crash. I was desperatly looking for posts that empathize with him and only found memes😭

(if I wasn't this deep, I would find them funny lol)

The race today was great tho. I would've loved to see him get P2 and I believe it would've been possibly, but I don't know anything so whatever. And I'm super happy for Lando and podium is podium. And driver of the day is well deserved. Checo knows how to gain positions. Now he just needs to start performing in Quali again :D

3. Charles Leclerc

Not the best weekend for Ferrari. The race today was a mess for them. Charles' first pit stop made me want to cry. It did seem like the team was trying to fuck Charles specificly over, with the water problem and that pit stop. I just want to see Ferrari back in the front.😭

Honerable mentions:

Nyck and Daniel. I just have to talk about that. I can't really be happy for Daniel. I really started to like Nyck and I think there is a reason he got into F1 in the first place. He's a good driver and I really believe that he just needed more time. I understand that the team felt like they needed to do something, but to Nyck it's unfair. I just hope he gets over the pain quickly.

And Danny deserves better than Alpha Tauri. Like what is he supposed to prove in that shit box. Also I am so obsessed with Checo that I'm still so scared that they might drop him if Danny does really good and I keep thinking what would that mean for Yuki? etc

Now after the weekend, I still don't know how to feel about the whole situation and I actually started avoiding Danny content, which is stupid and sad. Danny deserves a seat and it's not his fault that the circumstances suck.

the Haas boys. Never thought I would say that, but I kinda dig their dynamic.

George. I've been thinking about George a lot lately and I really like him, but somehow he is super weird to me. Idek what exactly, somehow everything about him is weird, but lovable. From his stupid big eyes and his ridiculously long legs, to his strange laugh and his accent. I really don't know anything about the differences in british accents but his accent is the weirdest to me. I like it and I understand it perfectly, but it's just weird (I'm sorry, I'm not trying to offend anyone😭)

Also his PR stuff is so cringy. I love how he's just embracing it all, but it sometimes feels like he is an old man, who doesn't understand the internet but loves learning about it😭

And his race was impressive af. He really knows how to drive.

Fun fact: my brother thinks he should be Mercedes' first driver.

Lance. I've grown extremely fond of him. He's just a sweetheart and getting dangerously close to my top three. I might have to take him into consideration soon.

He's a cat. I love cats.

Initially I disliked him for the dumbest reason (being a rich kid), but even then I knew (or I was expecting) that the day would come that I start liking him and here we are. He's the kind of person I would want to be friends with.

Logan. Through Alex I've become somewhat of a Williams fan. And I really like it when Logan has a good day. The FPs were great for him. The race sucked tho (whatever happened there), but he didn't seem too mad about it.

Lewis. I couldn't believe my eyes when he took pole. I was so happy, but then the race start was so bad😭😭

And I feel incredibly bad that I didn't want him to get P3😭

He was just so close to Checo in the last few laps and I really wanted Checo on the podium. Please don't get me wrong, I would have loved to see Lewis on the podium. I would've loved to see him win, but with Max, Lando and Checo in front, I just couldn't cheer for him😭😭😭😭

Lando. I love this man and I just want him to finally get a win. But it seems like he takes P2 as some kind of win, knowing that Max is just unbeatable.

Max. His hair.

Also I just need to say how much I love it when Max speaks German. The Dutch accent when speaking German is like the cutest thing ever and I'm really impressed of how confident he is in the language.

And there's my internal Red Bull dilemma. I drink a Red Bull for every Quali and for every race. I don't want Red Bull and Max to keep dominating, but I want Checo in front and Max deserves to win because he is that good. Do I support Checo or the Red Bull domination by drinking too much Red Bull?😭😭😭

Either way, I love Red Bull and I will keep on drinking it lol. Also I might be a RB fan at heart. Still Ferrari all the way, but I came into F1 being a RB fan, because of rallye sport and almost every driver I like there, is driving for RB. And then there's what they did to Alex and Pierre and now Nyck.

It's a love-hate relationship.

Valtteri. I don't think I ever said anything about him here. I love this man! He is such a vibe. Just doing whatever the fuck he wants and slaying every second of his life. He's not at the top of my favorites, but generally speaking, he might be one of the coolest drivers on the grid.

In terms of race positions, I like to see him doing good, but I like to see my favs in front more. Alex > Valtteri, I had to cheer for Alex there.

Zhou. I'm positively neutral about Zhou,  I don't know much about him, but from what I've seen so far there's not much to dislike. But here I just wanted to say that I loved seeing him slay Quali. Alfa Romeo in general. It's good to see them in better positions every now and then. The start today was just unfortunate.

Carlos. I was surprised by how Ferrari was treating Carlos today. It seemed like the team was actually listening to him. I hope they sorted themselves out and they keep being nice to my man Carlito😭

But the German commentators kept saying that Carlos Sr. is already looking around for a seat in a different team for his son😭

I love him in Ferrari, but I would totally understand if he wanted to leave. But I also saw something about the possibility of him joining Audi and I gotta say, as much as I love Ferrari Carlos, seeing him in an Audi would be so cool! Might be because Carlos Sr. is driving for Audi, but that doesn't matter. It'd just be cool.

Pierre. I'm starting to find my love for Pierre again. It's not nearly as strong as it used to be (obviously, as he's not first anymore lol) For some reason I didn't really care about him for a few weeks, but it's coming back now. Also bad day for Alpine. Must be devastating, a DNF for both cars and it not even being their fault. I hope they're okay and don't kill Zhou.

Esteban. I'm starting to dig the whole Alpine dynamic. They might not be the best of friends but they make it work and I love that.

And still, I'm obsessed with Este's accent and I keep coming back to the squirrel clip. I just can't with him.

Also he gives me young Jeff Goldblum vibes, idk why, but I love it.

Might be the hair. Or the sunglasses.

Oscar. It's frustrating to watch Oscar almost get on the podium. He deserves a podium, he's an incredible driver and I'm happy that the car is finally good enough for him and Lando.

Yuki. Now that I named 18 drivers, I can just say some things to the last two as well. Yuki is such a cool person. I wish he was higher on my list (the honerable mentions are in no particular order). And like I said before, I'm a little scared of what Danny's performance means for him.

Fernando. I like him a lot. I like his laugh and his accent. He's serious but silly and he treats Lance well. I like to believe that he has no evil master plan and just actually likes Lance lol

Sometimes it seems that Aston is the only team that works together and just like Lance said, it's romantic.

Also Strollonso might actually be my favorite ship currently. They're so unlikely, but they just work and it's cute. Thay might not be a Lestappen or a Carlando, but they have my heart just as much and I need more content.

Wow, I didn't know I had so much to say. And I hadn't realized that I just named most of the grid until I counted them.

[androidcharles]

The Tragic Tale of Cody Night

Gonna probably file this one under "not posting on AO3" but anyway, a bit of a sort of backstory on Cody Night and how they got to be who they are, against their better wishes. I'm gonna also classify this under Whump and Hurt with No Comfort. There's mentions of suicide, of course in terms of triggers and some bad transformation stuff in general.

Other then that, I hope you... enjoy the story?

Alex and Eric belong to @bluetorchsky

While not mentioned by name, Caissy Rogers belongs to @lovelygirlnicole15

Cody woke up that morning, stretching as they gazed at the calendar, feeling a strange pit in their stomach. Their birthday was in a few days. And after that, it would be another week before the anniversary of them being hired at the CCC. They let out a small sigh as they pushed themselves out of bed, heading into the bathroom to brush their teeth and comb their hair.

They looked at themselves in the mirror: dusty brown hair, bright light blue eyes. They smiled as they took a deep breath to center themselves before they exited their room.

They had opted to live in the complex in the dorms, due to the fact that they didn’t want to live with their aunt anymore. They didn’t have much anyway, so it wasn’t like it was a huge loss. They casually ignored the people passing by, saying good morning to them as they concentrated on getting to the cafeteria to get coffee and their bacon/egg omelet.

“Hey, Cody! The usual today?” the cafeteria staff lady said, a big warm smile on her face. Cody only nodded as they waited patiently for it to be prepared before heading off to a table to eat by themself.

After eating, they deposited their tray and dishes onto the conveyor before they headed to their work station. They had only been a class 3 anomaly inspector for about a month, but they were already impressing their coworkers around them. Especially their mentor, a man by the name of Jet Rocket, whom Cody was growing more and more attached to.

They hated it, really, growing attached to the first person to give them the time of day, but something about how Jet looked at them while he rambled on and on about his little brother in the military (Arnie? Armand? They forgot really.) and other various subjects made them feel comfortable around them.

Either way, once they headed to their desk to report for duty, they were stopped by Jet himself, a big smile on his face.

“Hey, Cody! Today’s your lucky day!” Jet said, “We have a very special assignment for you.”

“Huh?” Cody only tipped their head to the side as Jet gestured for them to follow, walking through some levels they weren’t even allowed in. Which was strange, because Jet often dealt with anomalies up to level 15. Cody got a bit worried as they headed to the airlock of the generator room of the level 9 wing, where three other employees were waiting for them.

“What took you so long, Rocket? We were gonna start without you!” one of them said, smirking.

“Had to pick up our young’n here,” Jet said, slapping Cody’s back.

“Ah, that’s right, you’ve almost been here a year. Yeah, letting them see just how intricate and powerful our generators are is mandatory,” a second employee said.

“And dangerous! Not only are they powerful and intricate, but also highly sensitive! If something goes horribly wrong-” the third employee piped up before Jet put up his hand.

“Now you can stop your rambling, George, because nothing will go wrong. Besides, the boss said it was a minor thing, so we should be done in about thirty minutes,” Jet said, “Ready to go Cody?”

“Um, sure,” Cody said as one of the employees opened the airlock hatch.

“Alright, once we enter the airlock, there’s a suit to put on. Do not take it off under any circumstances. Contact with the dark matter can have some drastic consequences,” Jet said.

“D-dark matter?” OK, now Cody was a bit worried. Minor little chaos anomalies they could handle, but dark matter?

“Nothing will go wrong kid,” one of the employees reassured him as he slipped on his suit, “There’s a lot of precautions in place in case an emergency occurs and we’re right behind you. We’ll do the heavy lifting and you can just observe.”

“Nah, Cody can help too. They just need some guidance. Right Cody?” Jet smiled at them from behind the glass of their suit as Cody nodded his head.

“Right.”

“Alright, let’s move out.” The group exited the airlock as they walked into the chamber. Cody looked up and saw a small machine surrounded by several gauges and dials. A window in the small machine revealed a strange liquid as it moved and pulsed with dozens of little stars. Cody was almost mesmerized by it as Jet called for them to meet with the group.

“Alright, you need to release the pressure Rodney. George, check the gauges to make sure that nothing is destabilizing. Let us know if something is out of place. Jet, you need to take these tools and start unscrewing this stabilizer. Do it carefully, because any wrong moves will cause the machine to spark,” one employee said, “Cody, just stay behind Jet and do as he says.”

“Yes sir…” Cody positioned himself behind Jet as he got to work watching him unscrew the stabilizer.

“Cody, hand me the other stabilizer Monty brought in, alright?” Jet asked. Cody handed it off to him as he quickly switched the stabilizer with the other one.

“This part you have to do in at least thirty seconds. If you don’t, the whole thing goes up,” Jet said, “It’s pretty intense.”

“Why are we using dark matter to generate energy?” Cody asked.

“It’s efficient. And it’s in everything,” Jet said, “It’s the only way to power the things we have going here.”

“It’s in everything? Including us?” Cody asked.

“Pretty much. Though, dark matter is also very dangerous. It can distort your body and do some funky shit to it,” Jet said, “It should be fine though. As long as we repair it safely and carefully, it won’t escape. I promise.”

“And if does?”

“Then I’ll make sure you’re the last person it gets onto.” Cody felt a bit touched by that comment and for the first time ever, felt like they belonged.

The rest of the repairs were a bit boring after that though, but after some time had passed, the group had finally finished everything up. Cody still felt like they could have done more to help, but other then checking a few dials and handing off a few parts, they weren’t exactly much of a big help.

“Alright, time to head out!” Jet said.

“I was hoping this would take a bit longer. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork on my desk I am not looking forward to,” George muttered as he went to open the airlock. There was moment of silence as he attempted, over and over again to open the airlock before he gazed at them with a bit of worry in his eyes.

“Guys… the door’s stuck.”

“Damn! I told them that they need to come down here to check the doors every now and again and look what happened! Slackers, the lot of them…” Monty shouted.

“Now now, let’s calm down. The emergency phone is over there. Cody, you know how to operate it, right?”

“Y-yeah…” Cody said.

“OK, I know you’re panicking, but everything is going to be OK, you hear me? Just dial the number and let them know we’re in here. They have a manual override they can use to unlock the door they can get us out.”

“It’s called the jaws of life, Jet,” Rodney said, smirking a bit.

“It’s OK, just call them,” Jet said. Cody felt a bit reassured as he walked to the phone and dialed the number.

“What’s going on down there?”

“The door… it’s stuck and we need to get out. We’re on level 9 in the dark matter reactor,” Cody said.

“Section A or B?”

“The one… that was broken?”

“B? Well, we’ll be right there. It’ll be a few minutes, so sit tight, OK?” As the other person on the line hung up the phone, suddenly he heard a concerned voice behind him.

“Uh, guys? The stabilization is going down!”

“What? I installed the new stabilizer properly! How could that be happening?”

“Jet, what did you do?”

“Let’s not play the blame game. C’mon we need to fix this before-”

It all happened so fast. First a crack appeared on the window of the dark matter reactor. Then, a pool of dark liquid started to rush out, as the group tried to head towards Cody, who was frozen in fear.

“CODY!!” Jet shouted as he ran towards them and picked him up. The dark liquid lapped at Jet’s feet as his legs wobbled.

“JET! NO!” Suddenly an explosion went off somewhere behind Jet and Cody as he fell to the ground. Cody tried to scramble to get to the corner as alarms went off around them. They heard another explosion, a scream, maybe? Or maybe they screamed, who knows.

And suddenly their suit tore on one of machines.

And the dark matter started to seep in.

Cody felt their head spinning as they blacked out, only for a few minutes, before finally coming to, hearing the CCC employees voices going nuts. They tried to call out to them as they grabbed them. They could only hear little snippets of what they were saying.

“They’ve been exposed! Be careful!”

“This is bad!”

“Quarantine, they have to get quarantine right away!”

- - - - -

Cody must have fallen asleep at some point, because when they woke up, they were in a small padded room. They looked around, trying to figure out where they were when they saw the medical wiring attached to them. But that wasn’t the worst part. They gazed at the dark matter on their arm and part of their leg, feeling a bit woozy as they glanced around.

“Good evening, Cody.” Cody jumped at the intercom, shaking as they looked around.

“Where… where am I? Where’s Jet? Where are the others!? Are they safe?”

“Now, Cody, before we give you the details, we might as well tell you what happened to you first. You were very lucky, because there was a lot of explosions occurring in that room. However, you were exposed to dark matter because of the tear in your suit. So unfortunately, we have to keep you in quarantine until we can find a way to get it off. Which we have before, it won’t be hard. But it may take a while,” the voice explained.

“What about the others? What about Jet and George and-”

“They are… they unfortunately perished in the meltdown. Jet was protecting you when he was impaled by the explosion. Another had been injured too greatly by the explosion. And two of our employees were consumed by the dark matter. We’re lucky the same didn’t happen to you,” the voice explained. Cody felt a bit dizzy as they lay back down on the bed, feeling like they had just swallowed a ton of bricks.

“I’m sorry about all this Cody. But we’re gonna do everything we can to get that dark matter off of you. You won’t have to worry much if we do this right,” the voice said, “You can call me Dr. Eliza. I’m here with Dr. Quartz and Dr. Thorn. We’re gonna do everything in our power to make sure you make it out of this alright? Alright?”

Cody nodded their head, not sure how to feel anymore as the voice on the intercom said:

“Let’s get started.”

- - - - -

One whole month had passed since the dark matter had attached itself to Cody’s body.

Despite all the treatments that the CCC had attempted, there were none that were truly working. The dark matter had spread much more since that day. It was now covering their entire arm and threatening to spread to their torso. The dark matter on their legs had spread to their pelvic region and was already making its way down to their other leg.

They didn’t know how to really feel anymore. They were scared, but at the same time, they were angry. They were sad, but at the same time, they felt like they had to accept his fate. They wanted to die so badly…

And yet the urge to go on was stronger then ever.

Dr. Thorn was the only person who was watching them right now. The other two scientists had gone out to get lunch, with the promise of bringing Cody some. They said they were getting StickDonalds and Cody reluctantly agreed, which was weird, because last they checked, they hated StickDonalds. Maybe the dark matter was messing with their sense of taste.

Suddenly the door opened to the airlock and they jumped, looking up and being greeted with… a strange man? Not one of the scientists, that’s for sure. Only a strange, very old looking man with bright blue eyes and dusty brown hair entered the room, holding a brief case in it’s hand and wearing a sharp looking blue suit.

“Who are you? You know if you don’t wear a suit, you’ll be exposed to the dark matter,” Cody said, their voice raspy.

“I can assssssure you Mixxxxxter Night that I am very familiar with the propertiessss of… dark matter,” the man said as it gazed at Cody.

“I see that you’ve been… adjussssting to your circumstances despite your attitude,” the man said, pacing around Cody as they shook with a bit of fear.

“What do you mean?” Cody asked.

“Well, obvioussssllyy, the universe exxxxistsss in sort of… balanccesss, Mixter Night. Balanccess that require some form of sacrifice, regardless of how the third party feellssss. You know perfectly well what I mean, Mixxxxter Night,” it said.

“Who… who are you?” Cody said softly.

“You can call me Mr. Mann for the time being. I am what you call… an auditor of sortssss. I go through the multiverse looking for circumstancesss such as yours and correct them. For instance… that explosion that occurred in the dark matter reactor… you would have died if not for my interference…”

“What? You… you made me into this?” Cody said, shaking a bit as they gazed at their arm.

“That was purely coincidental. I can assssure you that you would have sssuffered… grave injury if I hadn’t interfered with you, Mixter Night,” Mr. Mann said. Cody gritted his teeth, feeling tears surface they shook.

“You did this to me… you… you made me like THIS! I may never go back to normal! I-!” Cody started to shout as Mr. Mann shook his head.

“I can’t take full resssposibility for your state, Mixxter Night. I can only tell you what happened and what may happen in the future becausssse of this…” Mr. Mann said, “Just know that I may be in need of your… servicccesss in the future.”

“Like hell I’d help you with anything,” Cody snarled.

“You may not have a choice Mixxxter Night… You may not… have a choiccceee…” Mr. Mann said softly as it walked out of the chamber.

“Cody?” Dr. Thorn said, “Cody are you feeling alright? You sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

“There was… a man…” Cody said softly, not sure how to describe it.

“What kind of man?” Dr. Thorn said, trying but failing to hide the concern in his voice.

“A man with a briefcase. It had blue eyes and brown hair like mine…” Cody said.

“Oh greater ones above…” They suddenly heard talking on the other side of the glass window that concerned them greatly. Something about an anomaly, level 15.

“It’s alright Cody, that man is… completely normal,” Dr. Thorn said, “Dr. Quartz is bringing your food in now. I know you said you didn’t like StickDonalds, but we got you something anyway. I hope that’s OK.”

“It’s fine…” Cody muttered, gazing at the door as it opened the smell of fried greasiness entered their room. At least they were feeding them for the time being.

Cody never saw that strange entity again though.

- - - - -

Cody was in a horrible mental state.

The dark matter had successfully managed to spread to a majority of their torso, abdomen, and pelvic region. The tests they had used to successfully remove dark matter in the past were not working. They felt the dark matter creeping up on their neck as part of their arm and head were the only things left that had not been completely covered.

They noticed their hair and eyes had changed as well. Their hair was slowly turning lavender with bits of sparkles in them while their eyes had become dark blue. Their mouth had become a big black hole on the inside, with little specks of stars in them, which meant that the inside of their body was changing drastically as well.

The scientists had tried everything to get the dark matter off, from frequency tests, to electrocution to a strange scraping device that felt like someone was peeling off their skin. But the dark matter was still there.

“Cody, are you alright?” they heard Dr. Eliza ask. They gazed at the ground, trying to feel anything, but could feel nothing but pain and hurt. They gazed at their hands, feeling tears spring into their eyes.

“I want to die,” Cody softly whispered.

“Cody…”

“I want to die so badly… why won’t you guys just kill me already?” Cody said, shaking as they gazed at the window, not even able to see the scientists that were… at this point torturing them.

“Cody, I know you feel awful, but-”

“BUT WHAT!? I’M GONNA BE STUCK LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF ME LIFE! I DON’T WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE!”

“CODY!”

“PLEASE, PLEASE, JUST KILL ME ALREADY! I WANT TO DIE SO FUCKING BADLY, JUST KILL ME ALREADY, PLEASE!”

The scientists sat in stunned silence as Dr. Thorn rushed to adjust the collar on Cody’s neck. They had put it on them to keep them stable, but their mental state was causing the collar to work in overtime.

Meanwhile, Dr. Quartz pulled something out from under his desk and walked towards the door.

“Milo, what are you doing!?” Dr. Eliza said.

“Granting their damn wish. I can’t take it anymore…” Dr. Quartz said.

“Dr. Quartz, you know that this isn’t ethical! If the Director finds out about this-”

“The Director should come down here their self and see the state this kid is in!” Dr. Quartz shouted, “I’m pretty sure they’d understand once they find out…” Dr. Quartz exited the room and it was quiet for a few minutes as Dr. Eliza felt sick to her stomach, gazing at Cody, who was grasping their head, muttering to them self.

Finally, after what seemed like several hours, Dr. Quartz appeared once again, a gun in his hand as he walked towards Cody. Cody gazed up at him as he aimed the barrel of the gun squarely at their forehead. The fear and hurt in their eyes was pretty obvious, but they didn’t seem to fight back.

“Kid… are you sure you wanna do this?” Dr. Quartz asked, “You know that… this isn’t the answer right? There are several CCC employees who have suffered a fate similar to yours. They go on anyway. I’m not saying you have accept what you’re becoming. I’m just saying there’s so much more you can do. Please… don’t make me do this.”

Cody only stared at Dr. Quartz blankly.

“Kid, I’m begging you, I don’t want to do this! Just say the word and I’ll walk out right now!”

“Shoot me…” Cody was shaking, they were obviously afraid, but they nodded their head, “Just kill me already… please…”

“Cody…”

“PLEASE!” Dr. Quartz shut his eyes, reluctantly pulling the trigger. Dr. Thorn watched in horror as Dr. Eliza covered her eyes.

The sound of the shot reverberated through the room as the bullet went square into Cody’s forehead. Their eyes were filled with tears as they felt the pain of the shot go through their skull, but didn’t feel any different. They didn’t black out, they didn’t feel like they were going to the other side.

Instead, a glowing lavender liquid began to pour out of their head, slowly in little blobs as Dr. Quartz stared at it with great fear.

“Oh no…” Dr. Quartz said softly, reaching into the suits pocket and scooping it up. Cody passed out as Dr. Quartz exited the room, being careful to take the gun with him as he entered the observation room again.

“Dr. Quartz, are you OK?” Dr. Eliza asked, trying to hide her relief that the gun didn’t work.

“You see this shit? It’s liquid stardust. Magicians consider this a miracle. It’s like an ultimate cure-all, comparable to the philosopher’s stone,” Dr. Quartz said, “If that kid has this in their body, it’s far too late. They’re never going to die like a human. They’ll never die at all.”

“I’ve increased the stability on their collar but… it looks like the dark matter is spreading some more,” Dr. Thorn said.

“Milo…” Dr. Eliza said softly as Dr. Quartz set down the jar before angrily shoving some papers on the ground, sitting down at his chair as he shook.

“Dammit… Dammit all… we can’t save them… we can’t fucking save them…” Dr. Quartz said softly.

- - - - -

Cody remembered the day it happened like an awful nightmare. One minute they had crawled into bed, unable to really talk or see much due to the dark matter spreading across their face and the next they had felt every emotion at once in their bodies.

Pain, misery, despair, hurt, laughter, sadness, destruction, it was all there. The feeling of hatred and sorrow, combined with the misery of acceptance and hope had overflowed in their body like a glass full of water under a sink, the faucet continuously running with a mixture of emotions.

They didn’t know what had transpired in those few days, but by the time things had finally calmed down and they had stabilized into a human form, they were practically miserable. They stared at the reflection in the mirror. Their whole body, head to toe was now dark matter. They had completely turned into dark matter.

They were no longer human.

They looked human, sure, but their humanity was put into question as they spent the past week or so after that enduring tests that made them feel much worse. It was very clear they had no way of offing them, so they just had to accept that this was their fate. They would sometimes go to sleep on those nights, hoping they’d wake up on the day before it happened.

Hoping that they would wake up in their room, thinking what an awful nightmare this was and they would go back to doing their work like it never happened at all.

They were nineteen years old now. They would be nineteen for the rest of their life, no matter how many birthdays passed.

After a whole week of this, the scientists had come in bearing a new collar. They carefully put it on them and adjusted it so that they would remain stable as long as they were wearing it. Apparently it came with a special lock that pinched the back of their neck, but they didn’t worry about it too much.

“Cody, we’re going to ask you a few questions. I hope that’s OK with you,” Dr. Eliza said, “First, what is your full name?”

Who’s Cody? I’m Cody. I guess I’m Cody. I don’t feel like that guy anymore…

“Cody?” Dr. Eliza asked.

Right… I’m Cody.

“Cody Achilles Night,” Cody said.

“What gender are you?”

“I’m… nonbinary.”

“Pronouns?”

“They/them.”

“Who is the person that ran your department before your accident?”

“Dr. Jared Wheeler.”

“Where do you live?”

“Manhatten, outside of New Stick City, in the CCC dorms.”

“Alright and one last question. Are you alright?”

Cody gazed at their mattress, trying to figure out if they should answer honestly or tell a lie.

“No… I’m not. I hate everything. I just want to be dead…” Cody said softly.

“Well, that’s what we figured,” Dr. Eliza said, “Alright, this new collar should hopefully work as intended, but just in case, we’ve brought a sort of… test subject forward.”

Dr. Quartz stepped forward, not wearing a protective suit as Cody gazed at him. This was the same person who had attempted to put a bullet through their head, the same person who had attempted to kill him.

“Kid, I need you to touch my hand. And… if you can touch without infecting me, we’re gonna take you out of this room and… you’re gonna try to live your life. Hopefully.” You could almost feel the sadness in his eyes as Cody reluctantly put his hand forward before touching Dr. Quartz’ hand. It didn’t do much, though it had been so long since Cody had felt human contact that they almost wanted to grab his hand and just hold it.

Unfortunately, Dr. Quartz had pulled back before they could do anything as he nodded his head.

“Good… that new collar is a lot more powerful then the old one. That’ll not only keep them stable, but they’ll be able to do the work they need to do,” Dr. Thorn said as he started to take off his own suit.

“Alright, Cody. We’re gonna get your all dressed up and you can follow us to the examination room for your next steps,” Dr. Eliza said. Cody nodded their head as they followed behind them, not exactly feeling as excited as the other scientists were as they were given a plain white t-shirt and a pair of CCC brand sweatpants.

They were lead to an examination room and told to wait a few minutes, but it had been about fifteen before a new face had popped in, the scientists right behind him.

“Alright, according to Dr. Eliza, Thorn, and Quartz, you seem to be stable enough to continue work physically. However, they know that mentally you aren’t in a good place. You would often talk about how you wanted to die in the later weeks of the procedures and Dr. Quartz, against all protocol, attempted an unauthorized life ending scenario,” the doctor said as Dr. Quartz looked away, a bit ashamed.

“However, if it wasn’t for that, we wouldn’t have known how deeply the dark matter had affected you. So here’s what’s happened, in case you need a refresher; The dark matter that has infected your body has completely covered you and changed your molecular structure. You are no longer classified as a human being as a result of this. So you have two options at this point.

“One is that you’ll be sent a remote town near a CCC facility, where you’ll be monitored for the rest of your life. The other option is to continue your employment here. However, considering your obviously damaged physiological and mental state, not only will you be demoted back to level 1, but you will also be given routine therapy sessions with our company therapist until they determine that you’re mentally stable enough to be promoted,” the doctor said, “So, what do you want to do?”

A voice in the back of their head, a familiar one, seemed to tell them to go to the town. For some reason, that was itching in the back of their mind. But at the same time, they knew if they went out there, they would never be the same again.

Either option sounded awful.

Spend the rest of their isolated in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of other unlucky CCC agents or continue to work here where they could potentially hurt them self even more.

But on the other hand, knowing that something was telling them to go to the town was not exactly the best option. So they had no choice.

“I’ll just stay here… and continue my work,” Cody said softly.

“Alright. We’ll let the overseer of the level one division that you’re on your way back. We’ll get you acquainted with your therapist and of course, we’ll try everything in our power to make sure you feel comfortable despite your circumstances,” the doctor said, “Do you have any further questions?”

“Are you sure you can’t just kill me?” Cody said. Dr. Quartz exited the room quietly as the doctor sighed.

“How about we start by getting you acquainted with your therapist?”

The next several minutes were a bunch of paperwork, talking, and other nonsense that Cody didn’t really pay much attention to. They didn’t pay much attention to the therapist they had received. Not like it really mattered, because they were going to have to see them twice a week for the next several weeks.

After that, they were sent back to their room. But the place looked unfamiliar to them. Almost foreign, like they had just moved in for the first time. They gazed at the desk near their bed and saw the pictures of them self, when they were younger to when they first got hired. The pictures looked foreign as well, like they were pictures of someone else.

They headed into the bathroom and stared at them self in the mirror. Their hair, now a striking and sparkly lavender, was a mess, with half of it covering their face. Or lack thereof, as they were now faceless, with a void covering where their face was. They stared at their hands, shaking as their eyes began to water as they covered their face.

They didn’t know who they were anymore.

- 20 YEARS LATER -

Cody rose out of bed, wondering if they should just call in. They had felt like shit for the past twenty years since the accident and calling in didn’t really feel like an option anymore.

Since the accident, they had become more increasingly distant with their coworkers, only exchanging hellos and goodbyes casually and only speaking up when it involved work.

They didn’t think much of it anyway. After all, in their mind, they could really never be friends with anyone or anybody. But apparently that all changed not too long ago.

They walked out of their new dorm room as a group in the hall greeted them, all smiles as Cody let out a half-hearted “Hey” response. The CCC had recently transferred them to West Mesa, where there were apparently an anomaly that had caught their interest. An anomaly that happened to be a former employee/test subject of the organization.

“His name is Henry Stickmin,” he remembered his boss telling him, “I know it’s a stretch, but he was recently involved in several events that made him a… center of interest to us. So that’s why we need you to keep an eye on him and his little friend group. Make note of everything he does and above all else, don’t make contact with him if you can help it. Just observe.”

So they had their bags packed and sent on their way to the West Mesa facility. And there, they met some pretty interesting folks. Very friendly too… he had forgotten the further south he went down the Great Continent, the more friendly people had gotten.

Still, they went to the cafeteria to get their usual coffee with a bacon/egg omelet. Along the way, they saw Alex Springcurl, who was surprisingly by himself at the moment.

“Good morning Cody!” Alex said cheerfully. Cody jumped at the greeting as he stared at Alex, who was all smiles, “How are feeling this morning?”

“I feel… not really great…” Cody said, letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, do you need something?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if you wanted to sit with us today,” Alex said. Cody shook their head.

“No thank you…” Cody said before they walked off. Eric had just walked by them, carrying two trays as he looked at his husband hopefully.

“No good. I swear that kid is a tough egg to crack,” Alex said, “But I think if we apply a bit more pressure.”

“Let him come around on his own. I’m pretty sure once they really get used to the place, they’ll be more then happy to try to make some friends,” Eric assured him.

“Yeah, he’s only been here a week after all. Those New Stick City folks sure are distant, aren’t they?” Alex said.

Cody went through the line as the cafeteria lady tried to strike a conversation before handing them their food, a little ticked off at their coldness as they found an isolated area of the cafeteria before sitting down to eat.

“Hey, Mixter Night?” Cody looked up to see a young lady with bright eyes with snowflakes in them and beautiful blonde hair standing near him, all smiles.

“I noticed that you’re always eating by yourself here and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to sit with my friends. I promise we’re all friendly!”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“But-”

“I said, I’m fine! Just leave me alone, please…” The girl looked a bit heartbroken as she walked off, glancing at Cody one last time before heading back to her group.

They would just have to adjust and get used to this. They glanced at their hand as they sighed, trying to keep them self from crying.

All they had to do was just work. No distractions, no funny business, no anything.

Even if it made them feel awful.

[sundrownsthehouse]

Take This Pain And Give It A Name, Part Three

Posted to AO3

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Summary: George breaks his shoulder. Matty looks after him. It gets complicated.

Warnings: Please see the AN at the end for trigger warnings (in the interest of avoiding spoilers). There's brief mentions of a couple topics that could be upsetting to some folks. Take care of yourselves!

Words: 5.1k

In his dream, they were kissing.

Soft, eager lips sought his own and claimed them, over and over and over again. He held the warm, solid weight of their body in his arms whilst wandering hands stroked his skin, lighting him up from within. He’d never wanted like this before— it was devastating. All consuming. He raked his fingers tenderly through soft curls, reveling in the texture, prompting familiar dark eyes to meet his own. They were hazy with longing.

“George…” Matty sighed reverently, saying his name like it meant something.

“Please, George…”

“G—”

“—eorge!”

George gasped and raised himself up onto his good arm, narrowly avoiding a collision with the low ceiling of his bunk. Blinking furiously to clear his blurry vision, he struggled to orient himself, searching for the source of the disturbance. Ross’s amused grin came into focus.

“The fuck was that for?” George protested weakly, squinting at the bright lights in the otherwise empty bunk hall. Ross laughed.

“Mate, I let you sleep as long as I could! We’re in Austin— been here for hours, actually,” he replied pointedly.

“Austin…?”

“Texas.”

George groaned: “I know where Austin is, Ross. Why does it matter?”

He sighed dramatically, flopping back against his pillow. His broken shoulder was already throbbing, a dull ache that demanded his attention, but all he could think about was the once vibrant dream, already beginning to fade into obscurity. No matter how hard he tried to cling to it, all that remained was an increasingly vague image and a strange sense of loss.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed. There was no reason for him to be awake right now. He hadn’t even bothered to set an alarm, since he sincerely doubted that Jamie would let him anywhere near the next show— not after the way he’d botched it so pathetically yesterday. And if he was being really honest, he wasn’t in a rush to face the cold light of day after what happened last night.

Ross simply beamed at George, oblivious to the depth of his dismay. “We’ve a hotel for the next two nights,” he explained with barely contained enthusiasm. “Grab your shit. Jamie left your keycard on the table.”

A hotel… 

Shit.

“A real bed, working aircon, actual privacy… God, I hope they have a pool,” Ross continued wistfully.

George slowly sat up on the side of the bed, minding his sore arm, and watched as Ross continued to pack clothes into his well-worn duffle bag.

“Where’s Matty?” he asked carefully.

Ross shrugged: “In your room, probably. He and Hann went up ages ago.”

George felt a pit form in his stomach. He wasn’t ready to process what happened between him and Matty last night. He needed time to think—

“C'mon man, they’ve gotta lock up. Hey, are you alright?” Ross asked, brow furrowed in concern.

George mumbled some vague reassurances as he got up, declining Ross’s offer of help. As he packed, he purposely pushed everything to do with last night to the back of his mind, directing his focus to the task before him. Even so, he couldn’t fully squash the pervasive sense of unease that lingered, warning him that something major had shifted.

He emerged from the tour bus later to find himself in car park across from some generic, mid-range hotel. It had only just gone noon, but the heat was stifling. Dressed in joggers and a zip-up hoodie (he still wasn’t confident he could get the sling on and off by himself), he leaned back against the bus and dropped his bag onto the hot pavement.

Ahead of him, Ross turned back with a quizzical look: “You coming?”

George held up a half-crumpled pack of cigarettes that definitely didn’t belong to him: “S'okay, I’ll catch up.”

“I could take your bag up,” Ross offered kindly. “You look a little—”

“Ross— honestly, I’m fine. I’ll be up in a few minutes,” George assured smoothly.

In reality, he was already exhausted, and in a disproportionate amount of pain for how little activity he’d done, but he’d be damned if he was going to admit as much. He sweat uncomfortably in the sun as he smoked, but at least he was alone. He needed this time and space to clear his head. There was so much he wasn’t ready to unpack about last night, but he couldn’t put it off much longer. For the first time ever, he found himself regretting the decision to room with Matty.

When they had first started to properly tour as a band, they could barely afford one hotel room on the road; the amount of times the four of them had squeezed into a double bed was truly ridiculous. They were at a point in their careers now that they could splurge on privacy, which Ross and Adam took full advantage of, but no matter what, he and Matty always seemed to end up together regardless. When Jamie booked this US tour, Matty told him point-blank not to bother with giving them separate rooms. At the time, that suited George just fine.

It was no secret that he tended to get the most homesick while on tour; the hectic pace, lack of structure, and instability wore him down. Sharing a space with Matty reminded him of home— a place in East London that they bought together a little over a year ago. The familiarity helped him feel more grounded. Meanwhile, Matty was the polar opposite. He enjoyed touring much more than the rest of them, and genuinely seemed to thrive in the chaos. He was at his best, creatively and personally, when he was kept busy. It was the comedown after a show that he struggled with; the duality between having the rapt attention of thousands, and then being completely and utterly alone. George’s company helped mediate that.

The others teased them for being codependent, and they weren’t exactly wrong; George had spent nearly every day of the past thirteen years with Matty. And yet the prospect of sharing this hotel room with him for the next two nights had his stomach twisting in knots.

He couldn’t pretend to fully understand what Matty had been thinking, offering… that. What he did know was that their friendship had always lacked certain boundaries. They told each other everything, and it was rare that they were ever apart. They were also quite tactile— more so than male friendship warranted by society’s standards, anyway. They’d never felt the need to shy away from physical affection.

As George sucked on the smoke, he thought about the way Matty would sometimes slip into his bed at home in the middle of the night— the routine of it all. Driven by nightmares or insomnia, he would creep in quietly and pull back the duvet with excessive care, as if he didn’t know that George was only pretending not to notice. George would yawn and stretch and, still feigning sleep, roll over to gently pull Matty in. Only then would Matty finally relax enough to drift off, his head burred in the warm space between George’s neck and shoulder, their legs entangled.

They’d never talked about it; they didn’t have to. There was so much between them that didn’t need to be spoken aloud to be understood. Offering comfort to Matty when he was going through it was instinctive for George.

In his own way, maybe Matty had been trying to do the same.

This is different though, George thought wearily as he crushed the end of his cigarette under his shoe. Though their relationship was intimate, intense even, it had never been sexual. He’d never wanted anything like that from Matty before.

But Matty was… fuck. He’d been almost desperate. The sound of his voice when he’d begged…

George’s eyes fluttered closed as his heart began to hammer in his chest. It wasn’t from the heat. Even now, the unbidden memory of Matty’s touch lit a powerful spark of arousal within him that left him dizzy and wanting.

If he was being really honest, he could maybe admit to a longstanding… curiosity about Matty. It’s not something he’d ever really acknowledged to himself consciously before. Surely, it was only natural— after all, George knew absolutely everything else about him, except what he was like in bed. It's not that they didn't talk about sex. Matty in particular had never been shy when it came to bragging about his exploits, so George knew that Matty had slept with both men and women, but knowing something and experiencing it first-hand were two very different things.

Last night, George caught a rare glimpse of a side of Matty that had never really been accessible to him before. He had no idea that Matty could be like that... Strangely exhilarated, he realized that he didn’t know who this person was at all— this part of Matty that was all tentative touches and burning desire and need— but he wanted to.

George paled.

He promptly shoved that thought as far away as possible, recalling the utter embarrassment on Matty’s face after they’d been interrupted.

It’s not like it meant anything.

Getting ahold of himself, George retrieved his bag and made his way toward the hotel lobby. The blast of cold air that hit him as he entered was a welcome shock to the system. Really, his best course of action would be to act normally; in the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t that big a deal. They could chalk it up to a substance-induced fumble, have a laugh, and move on. It might be a bit awkward at first, but things would go back to normal. And that’s what he wanted, right?

Of course, Adam and Ross would take the absolute piss if they ever found out. George cringed internally at the thought as he stepped onto the elevator. He found himself in front of room 2208 all too soon.

It’s fine, he told himself. Be chill— if I freak out, he’ll freak out.

George placed his hand on the door knob. With one last calming breath, he entered the room.

His attention was drawn immediately to the large balcony directly across from him, displaying an incredible view of the city skyline. The french doors were open, causing sheer white curtains to flutter in the breeze. He noticed the end of a cigarette smoldering in an ash tray perched on the railing. Sunlight drown the interior, illuminating the tidy, nondescript furnishings. George approached slowly, calling out for Matty as he did. He placed his bag on a wooden desk in the corner of the room next to a familiar Louis Vuitton keepall.

Matty wasn’t there.

George called his name again, and checked both the bathroom and the balcony, finding evidence of Matty’s presence, but nothing more. He pulled out his phone and texted Ross:

matt isn’t here do you know where he went?

He received a reply shortly:

idk but he checked in rlly early so maybe he’s out

He sent the same message to Adam, and then pulled up Matty in his contacts:

just got in where are you?

George sat heavily on the end of the plush, king sized bed. He looked blankly around the room, feeling a little dejected. He checked the screen impatiently. Minutes passed. There was no response. 

Eventually, he started to unpack for lack of anything better to do, hoping Matty would return soon. When he finished that, he casually flipped through the hotel’s brochure, noting the amenities. Room service, a spa, an outdoor pool— just about everything you could want on a much needed break from bus living. A dip in the hot tub might not be such a bad idea. He rubbed at a sore muscle in his neck. 

His phone buzzed. It was a message from Jamie in the band’s group chat.

Van leaves at 4:15 from the back of the lobby — seen by Matty, Ross

George studied the read receipts— Jamie had insisted on them for certain threads— and frowned. It wasn't like Matty to ignore him. He double checked his messages, but they were still unanswered. 

Feeling uneasy, George popped out of the room and made his way down the hall to Adam’s. He knocked, apprehensively shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He could hear muffled movement through the door: “Just a sec!” After long moment, Adam finally opened up. He looked a little weary. Behind him, George could see that the lights were out and the curtains to the balcony closed, shrouding the room in darkness. Guiltily, he also noticed that Adam was in pajamas.

“Sorry mate,” he said sheepishly. He should've known; one of the downsides to touring was the havoc it wreaked on their sleep schedules.

“No, no, it’s okay” Adam replied. He gave George a once over, searching his face with a wary expression. “Ah… how are you?”

“Good, yeah,” George deflected offhandedly. He knew that his friends meant well, but constantly having to placate their concern was getting old. “Listen, have you seen Matty? His stuff is in the room, but he’s not there.”

Adam scratched his head, glancing down in contemplation: “He checked in with me early this morning. Then went to your room, I’d assume. I think… he might have mentioned something about a radio interview today, or something like that...”

Oh. It wasn’t uncommon for Matty to have interviews and appearances apart from the rest of the band— it would explain his absence, and why he wasn’t texting back.

“He’ll probably come round soon.”

“Right,” George conceded, suddenly feeling a little foolish. Matty was probably just busy; it was nothing to get worked up about. “Sorry for waking you. Thanks.”

“‘Course. I’ll see you in a bit, then?”

“Yeah, see you,” George replied. Adam smiled and gently shut the door.

Stuck in a sort of limbo, and not knowing what else to do with himself, George decided to wander back down to the hotel lobby for lunch. The buffet at the restaurant wasn't anything fancy, but he perked up a little when he clocked the massive salad bar— it had been so long since he’d eaten real food. Just as he finished making up his plate, he heard a voice call out to him from across the room:

“George!”

He turned to see Jamie waving at him over his food from a nearby table. He put his laptop away as George sat down. “Is that really all you’re having?” he admonished. “The chicken is mint— I think there’s brisket up there as well.”

“Can’t cut it,” George reminded him, picking at the loose right sleeve of his hoodie.

Jamie's brow furrowed in confusion before he broke out in a chuckle: “Oh, right. I’m sorry, I know it’s not funny.”

“It’s a bit funny,” George granted with a wry smile.

“If you want something else to eat, I’ll help you,” Jamie insisted. “You need to keep your strength up.”

George snorted, amused: “Not gonna have you cutting up my food for me— I’m not that much of a diva.” Jamie grinned. “Nah, my appetite hasn’t totally come back yet,” George explained, digging in to his salad.

Jamie nodded: “I suppose that’s to be expected. And how’s the pain? You taking your meds?”

“Yeah,” George lied. “It’s better.” He knew he probably should, but he hadn’t taken any dilaudid since last night, despite the constant pain he’d been in since; he didn’t like the way the medication made him feel. Besides, he was gagging for a spliff, and he knew enough about narcotics to understand that it probably wasn’t a good idea to mix the two.

“I’m glad.” Jamie cleared his throat. “I hope you’ll understand, if I ask you to take tonight off,” he said delicately.

George’s heart sank. He kept his face carefully neutral as Jamie continued.

“Hear me out: tomorrow’s a day off, and we don’t get back on the bus until the night after that. If you’re still doing well by then, I’ll get you back in the booth for the Woodlands show.”

George sighed: “Yeah, alright.” He’d been expecting something like this, but it still stung.

As they ate, they chatted about the upcoming shows, their families, and the new material that he and Matty had been working on. It reminded him of Adam's comment about a radio appearance. He asked Jamie about it. 

“It’s just a local station looking to do a short interview ahead of tonight’s gig. Actually, he was supposed to meet me here,” Jamie remarked, checking the time. “We’re due to leave soon.”

George frowned: “It hasn’t happened yet?”

Jamie shook his head, gazing around the room and out into the lobby. “It’s not like him to be late,” he muttered.

George scrolled through his phone: still no response. Where had Matty been all day?

Jamie made a small sound of surprise, drawing George’s attention: “Oh— he’s just texted me. He’s waiting outside. Sorry George, I’m gonna have to run,” he said apologetically, standing to gather his things.

“I’ll see you off,” George suggested. “I nicked Matty’s fags earlier; he probably wants them back.” It wasn’t a total fib, but he needed an excuse to follow Jamie out. For whatever reason, it felt vitally important that he see Matty, talk to him, even just for a moment. At least then, he would be able to stop stressing about it. 

The pair walked out to the back lot, where a black Sprinter van sat idling. Jamie unintentionally ended up blocking the door, distracted as he engaged the driver in a conversation about the day’s schedule, so George approached the side of the vehicle, where he could just make out the silhouette of Matty’s mop through the van’s tinted window. He rapped on it with his knuckles.

Matty jumped, and met his gaze with wide eyes. George held up the pack of cigs, gesturing for him to roll the window down. Matty’s lips formed a thin line— he shook his head and turned away. George frowned, confused. He tapped on the glass again impatiently.

Matty wouldn’t even look at him.

Jamie called out from the front door: “Gotta go, George. Rest up, okay?”

George nodded, his eyes still trained on Matty’s profile. He stepped back a little as the van pulled away. With a growing sense of dread, he silently willed Matty to look at him, grasping at that telepathic connection they always seemed to have.

It was no use; Matty didn’t look back once.

***

Riddled with anxiety, the rest of the day dragged on far too slowly, with very little to keep George from second guessing all of his previous assumptions. He didn’t have much time with Adam and Ross before they had to head out, leaving him alone with his thoughts again. He couldn’t bear it. So, he ordered room service, went out to the balcony, and tried to enjoy his first spliff in days as he watched the sun set.

The initial head rush was followed by a deep, steady calm that slowed his mind and made the world go all soft and fuzzy around the edges. His whole body tingled pleasantly; the pain in his shoulder, neck, and back blessedly faded into the background for a while. He ended up crawling into bed, luxuriating in the high, and passed the time with some nature documentary that he found on the telly.

It was almost enough to distract him from thinking about it. Almost. 

Hours later, with his high fading, George found himself going over everything again in his head, all right where he left it. He didn’t understand. Sure, he’d expected some awkwardness, but he didn’t anticipate that Matty would go to such lengths to avoid him so thoroughly. The longer they went without talking, the stranger the whole situation felt. He wanted nothing more than for them to just get back to normal.

As the uneasiness returned, George briefly considered lighting up again, if only to take the edge off. From the corner of his eye, he noticed his phone turn on. He'd shot out a text to the group chat asking how the show had gone; Jamie was just getting back to him, stating that it was “good” and that they were all on their way back to the hotel. Finally. Any minute now, Matty would walk through that door, they would put all of this behind them, and then George would get some much needed sleep. 

Twenty long minutes later, he heard a knock at the door. To his surprise, it was Adam on the other side.

“Wanted to give you these,” he said with a soft smile, holding out a stack of hallmark cards. “Get well soon wishes from some fans in the front row.”

“Cheers,” George murmured as he accepted them. He actually felt rather touched; it was a sweet gesture.

Adam yawned powerfully and rubbed at his eyes: “Well, I’m knackered. I'll see you in the morning.” He started to make his way down the hall.

“Wait—” George called, “where’s Matty?” He glanced around the corridor, but it was empty.

Adam seemed to hesitate before answering: “Ah, I think he’s out back of the lobby, having a smoke.”

George blinked, taking the information in. Adam watched him cautiously.

Yeah, he was properly fucked off now.

“For fuck’s sake,” George bit, putting on his shoes.

“What?”

“He’s mugged me off all fucking day.”

Simmering with frustration, he passed Adam in the hall and called the elevator. He normally didn’t rise to anger very easily, but the combination of anxiety, pain, and exhaustion had worn at his willingness to tolerate Matty’s dismissive bullshit.

Adam watched him go uneasily. He opened his mouth, as if he had more to say, then closed it again. In the end, he simply murmured “goodnight.”

“‘Night,” George replied sullenly as the elevator doors closed.

The lobby was dark— still open, but essentially vacant. George strode outside. It was well past midnight; without the heat of the sun, the air had cooled off significantly. Initially, he didn’t see anyone around at all. Growing increasingly irritated, he marched over to the alleyway at side of the building.

A little ways down, a shadowed figure looked up at him and froze. Their gaze darted toward the other end of the alley, as if looking for an escape.

“Don’t,” George warned lowly, his voice stopping Matty in his tracks. Even as he drew close, Matty still wouldn’t face him. The silence was tense, only broken by the sound of a light wind rustling in the trees. George stared at the back of Matty’s head. Waiting. Fuming. Eventually, Matty flopped back against the wall, his profile still in shadow. He held out his hand to George, a lit joint dangling between his fingers.

“No, thanks.”

Matty hovered for a moment. He took one last long, hard drag off the spliff before crushing the remainder of it under his boot.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong with you?” George asked with an edge to his voice that he couldn’t be bothered to suppress. Matty hid his face, looking down the opposite end of the alley. “You’ve been avoiding me all day.” He hated the way the accusation sounded so pathetic to his own ears.

Matty sniffled wetly and wiped at his face. His hands were visibly trembling.

“Matt…” George protested, putting a hand on his shoulder to spin him around.

George wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Matty flinched from his touch— actually flinched— and choked out a heavy sob from deep within his chest. His face was mess; the dark eye makeup that he’d recently taken a liking to wearing on stage was smudged, and his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He'd been crying. When he spoke, his voice was a broken rasp, strained with emotion.

“Just hit me, if it’ll… if you want to. I promise, I won’t tell anyone.” His face crumpled, black tears streaming down his cheeks.

Alarm bells went off in George’s head. “What the fuck are you on about?” he demanded, his heart in his throat.

Matty was sobbing so hard, he could barely speak, so uncharacteristically inarticulate.

“What I… I c-can’t… m'so s-s-sorry…”

His stuttering devolved into nonsensical noises of distress, growing more panicked by the second. His chest heaved; he was breathing too fast.

George sprang into action, his anger forgotten as he wrestled with the cold dread that flooded his system. “Matty, you need to breathe.” He reached out on pure instinct.

“Don’t!” Matty shouted weakly, pulling out of George’s reach with wide eyes. He began to cry again with renewed fervor.

“Okay,” George said in what he hoped was a gentle, soothing tone. He held his hand up disarmingly, as if he were trying to soothe a wild animal. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, but he willed himself to stay calm. “Okay. Let’s just talk, alright? Matthew, look at me, please,” he implored. Matty shuddered as their eyes met. “Deep breaths, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow… even slower… that’s it.”

Matty’s bawling gradually began to ease as his breathing came back under control, George coaching him through it, his voice grounding and soft. Calmer, yet still weepy, Matty pressed the palms of his hands into his face, as though he couldn’t help but try to hide.

George swallowed around the lump in his throat and mentally prepared himself for the worst.

“Tell me honestly— what did you take?” he whispered.

Matty looked up at him and shook his head, eyes wide: “Nothing—! I swear.”

They’d been here before. Matty dabbled in drugs more than George cared for, and honestly, it scared the shit out of him. After that last time, that close call, he’d promised he would stop…

“I need to know, Matty. I won’t be mad— but you have to tell me. I need to make sure you’re safe,” George pleaded. He felt nauseated as he wondered what kind of comedown they’d be facing tonight.

“I mean it, George, I’m not on anything. I’d tell you if I was,” Matty insisted. “I swear to you, that’s not what’s going on here.”

George shook his head, bewildered: “Then what’s got you so upset?” None of this was adding up.

Matty sniffled and looked up to the sky, biting his lips. It was a long moment before he finally faced George, his expression full of remorse, fresh tears in his eyes.

“What I did to you was wrong,” he whispered, “and I want you to know that I will never forgive myself.” He pulled at his hair, his voice cracking: “I’m so fucking sorry, George.”

George was stunned speechless. Oh, God. This was so much worse than he thought it would be.

“If Ross hadn’t knocked on the door… fuck!” Matty cried, holding his head in his hands.

What have we done?

George's mouth went dry. “It’s okay. We can forget about it. It’s not that big a deal,” he said feebly.

“‘Not that big a deal?!’” Matty cried. Now, he seemed almost furious. George was taken aback by the sudden outrage, scrambling to make sense of Matty's rapidly shifting emotions. He'd only ever been like this before when he was using. 

“What do you think happened last night?”

Matty’s face twisted in pain: “I fucking assaulted you, because I’m selfish piece of shit and all I was thinking about was myself. And I will never forgive myself George, never.”

George recoiled. “You didn’t assault me, Matty,” he scoffed, “how can you even think that?”

Matty shook his head and gestured wildly with his arms: “You were high on pills, fucking broken and in so much pain… your arms were… you couldn’t even push me away!” he lamented. “And I took advantage of you, like a sick fucking pervert—”

George grasped Matty’s arm, tightening his grip when he tried to pull away. Matty looked up at him with something like fear in his eyes.

“Stop! I’m not going to hurt you— Christ, I’d never hurt you, how can you…?” George trailed off, feeling horribly sad. “You didn’t do anything to me.” Then, quietly: “You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want you to do.”

Matty’s face fell: “I didn’t give you a chance to stop me. You were so out of it—”

“Fuck's sake, would you listen to me? I didn’t want you to stop!” 

Matty froze; George rarely ever raised his voice. The admission hung heavily between them.

George sighed heavily, searching his best friend’s face; Matty was no longer crying, but his makeup had stained his cheeks with the dark trails of so many tears shed. The whole situation was a total fucking mess.

“Listen— can we just, like, go upstairs? Start over in the morning?” George asked softly.

Matty sniffed and wiped at his face with his sleeves. He nodded.

“C'mere,” George murmured, pulling Matty into his chest. At first, Matty kept his arms at his sides, as if unsure of what to do with them. George dropped his face into Matty’s hair, fighting back his own emotion, and held him tight. He felt Matty slowly wrap his arms around his waist and press himself against his body. They clung to each other, seeking comfort in the closeness. After a long moment they broke apart, and without another word, walked back up to their room.

George felt like he was ready to drop— his very bones ached with exhaustion. Emotionally drained, he wasted no time stripping down to his briefs and crawling into bed. Matty stared at him awkwardly from the foot of it.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he murmured.

Something about that made George so fucking sad. Is this what it would be like between them now? All of that trust and intimacy gone, because of one mistake?

“Don’t be daft. C'mon.” George pulled the duvet back, eyes pleading.

Matty quietly undressed and slipped into bed beside him, lying still on his back. An ocean of space separated them.

George looked over and held out his left arm.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to—”

Matty closed the gap, slotting himself to George’s side, his head resting on his chest in the warm space between his neck and shoulder. George pulled him close, breathing in his hair, legs tangling together.

AN: Warnings for mentions of past drug abuse. There is a discussion regarding sexual assault.

Phew! This chapter was a beast, but I'm pretty pleased with the way it turned out. Thank you so much for all of your patience and support! Let me know what you think- I'd love to hear from you if you've been enjoying this story. I pinky promise that the next chapter will be happier (and smutty)!

[nicklloydnow]

“The transfer of True Lies has a truly vile quality to it, a feeling like someone clandestinely dosed you with LSD just a hair below the threshold. At times it can look passable in motion, but then you notice something out of the corner of your eye: a thick fold of skin, a framed photo of a child, folders that are too thick at the margins, cheeks that look rendered. It’s that familiar dread at the pit of your gut when you spot AI generated imagery, a combination of edges not looking quite right and surfaces that are simultaneously too smooth and too sharp. A crime was committed here, and you can tell.

The transfers of Aliens and The Abyss are markedly less bad than True Lies, but I still have difficulty watching them. The skin looks sterile and waxy with too much film grain removed. Everything looks like it has raytracing on. Both transfers are, however, within acceptable parameters for most normal people.

The recent transfer of Titanic got a similar treatment, with similarly mixed reactions online.

“Why would you do this?” is a logical question. It’s worth contextualizing who handled these “restorations” – namely Park Road Post, a subsidiary of Peter Jackson’s WingNut Films. They have worked on multiple films in the past, but the two that are most germane here are Jackson’s They Shall Not Grow Old and the 3-part Disney+ documentary The Beatles: Get Back. Both movies recontextualize pre-existing footage and, importantly, do so with an aggressive use of machine learning. They Shall Not Grow Old upscales and colorizes old World War I imagery in an attempt to set the bloodshed in a more modern context, while Get Back recycled footage shot for Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s Let It Be, including moments never before seen by the public, to elucidate the process behind the creation of some of The Beatles’ most iconic songs.

(…)

I wish we had stopped Jackson then and there. As my good friend Danielle joked, this was a trial balloon. People praised Jackson for doing this to Lindsay-Hogg’s footage in the name of restoration, and it emboldened him to do worse things. Before the True Lies debacle, the most recent example of this was the aggressively saccharine and confusing Now & Then, a long unfinished demo now finished by Ringo and Paul, edited together with archival footage of younger John and George composited in an a fashion that can be charitably described as tremendously weird.

Lest I am accused of being a luddite, I firmly believe there are many use cases for this technology. Nvidia’s DLSS and competing variants generally work very well on the games they are trained on. I regularly use Flowframes in the rare case that I need interpolation. I have often used waifu2x and now chainner if I need to photoshop a still and my source is bad, and there are databases of countless AI upscaling models. But the flip side to this is that these technologies are often used in place of proper ingest. “Crap in, crap out” is a truism for a reason. I spend a lot of time regularly capturing VHS and Laserdisc at the highest possible quality for fun, and when I see people who should know better say “Just use Topaz” (a commercial AI upscaler) instead of learning how to correctly ingest footage and deinterlace it, it makes me want to pull out my hair, because it almost uniformly looks bad to anyone who works with video professionally.

When you finally do see a piece of footage transferred well, it can be breathtaking. Good archival practices require a lot of institutional knowledge and labor. It’s an art when done well, and the people who do it care so much about what they do. But the modern application of much of AI is precisely about taking labor out of the equation. Why transfer a tape correctly when we can just have a computer guess badly instead? What if crap goes in, and it doesn’t come out?

What makes all of this worse is that True Lies, as I understand it, did not need to be shoved through the AI wringer. According to The Digital Bits, Park Road Post had a recent 4k scan of True Lies from the original camera negative. Park Road Post’s own website claims they have a Lasergraphics Director 10K film scanner on the premises. So what is the purpose of adding AI to this mix? Why do that to a perfectly fine-looking film? What is gained here, other than to slightly yassify an Arnold film? At this point, maybe they are simply doing it just to say that they did, because the technology is lying around, like a loaded gun with the safety off.

Nerds who post on blu-ray forums as a rule often need to calm down, and the forum threads I have read about this are no exception, but there are certain cases where a filmmaker is just wrong about how their films should look. Lucas is the infamous notable example, but Cameron is not innocent here in his treatment of his own films. Wong Kar-wai is another notable example, as what he did to Ashes of Time is criminal as was his recent “remasters” of his movies like In The Mood For Love. In certain rare conditions like this, it’s healthy to question if directors have the best interests of their own films in mind, as Cameron himself personally approved of these remasters.

What actually chills my blood more than anything is the thought that a lot of people think this all looks pretty good. You see this mindset at work whenever an AI fetishist posts a stable diffusion image of a woman with 13 fingers, 40 incisors and comically huge breasts. There’s an entire portion of the population that takes overt pleasure in the over-smoothed, perverts that prefer all media to be fast, high frame rate, and scrubbed squeaky clean. The cameras on our phones don’t simply capture images anymore, they compute them and ‘optimize’ them. It’s Italian Futurism in 4k, a noise reduction death drive. It’s not simply enough for much of digital cinema to look crystal clear and lifeless; the past should be denoised, grain managed and cleaned to conform to that standard. It is expedient and profitable if people don’t remember what film is supposed to look like.

I don’t think anyone gets into preservation to destroy film. I believe that everyone involved with this process worked hard and had the best interests of the film in mind, but the exact nature of restoration itself can vary wildly. I believe that some companies get blinded by new tech, get high on their own supply, and that can result in work that is destructive instead of restorative. I don’t know what the solution to this is in the world we live in, outside of decoupling film preservation from the profit motive whenever possible.

But I am certain about one thing. For a while, much of gaming tried looking like Aliens. Now, Aliens looks like a video game. And that doesn’t sit right with me.”

[cx-boxbox]

Tag game :D

Tagged by: @wisteriagoesvroom!

Who is your favorite driver? Oscar and Lando first and foremost, Max, Guanyu, and Alex because they're funny and they have cats, Yuki because he loves food.

Do you have other favorite drivers? I'm on the fence about Logan because on one hand, he seems nice but on the other, he reminds me of too many guys I went to high school with. (The fishing hobby doesn't exactly help either.)

Who is your least favorite driver? I am a hater at heart, but I don't want to be crucified, so I'll just let whoever stumbles across this post wonder.

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well? I didn't want to attach myself too much to a team in case the drivers I like leave, but sure, McLaren, you've somewhat charmed me, and you're faster now, so.

If you like teams, what team do you pull for? See above.

How long have you been into F1? HAH since mid-January.

What got you into F1? This tiktok of George reacting to potential intro poses, NONE OF WHICH WE ACTUALLY SAW SMH, and then I fell down a rabbit hole of F1 memes. If there's one way to hook me, it's memes. I've made a fair few myself, and if you've seen one that goes "people be like 'good night everyone' but then *insert screenshot of ao3*" floating around tumblrdotcom, that was unfortunately me.

Do you enjoy Fanfic/RPF? No. Absolutely not.

How do you view new fans? I feel like I'm still a new fan. Like, yes, I can explain DRS to anyone who asks, but I still feel like an imposter.

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why? Brother uehhh (sorry). I'm already experiencing enough hair loss, thank you. Although, now that I think about it, I could be rich while experiencing hair loss... nah, nobody can pay me enough to babysit men.

Are your friends and family into F1 as well? I told my sibling about F1 when it was still just a budding interest, and they were like "you getting into F1 was NOT on my 2024 bingo card"... and, plot twist, now they're also into F1, and their favorite driver is Carlos. My mother also enjoys it enough to send me memes, like the one depicting the Ferrari pit crew as Smurfs during the Miami GP. My partner sadly doesn't Get My Obsession with F1, but they did immediately rate ZGY a 10, so that's good enough for me.

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends? Yeah! I'm terrible at approaching people, though. Aside from sending a couple anonymous compliments to writers whose fics I've especially enjoyed, reaching out to other users sometimes feels like sending a professor an email, which is to say it's terrifying, but I'm definitely open to talking. And after I warm up to someone, I fear you'll never stop hearing from me. Ki and Wiz can confirm.

Whoever sees this and wants to play, go right ahead!