#tltl stories

[agendabymooner]

lost in japan ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series extra

“i was hoping i could get lost in your paradise.”

summary: sylvie and max in japan. sylvie’s new obsession. a lot of shopping. and twitter/instagram wars. OR f1 twt summarized each one of max’s posts in his ig story after he and sylvie ford went to japan without any notice.

content warning: use of explicit language, established relationship, threads of posts regarding their relationship, nothing just an inchident serious just fluff and possibly humour, press the pictures for the full view!

note: me: i’m gonna update the masterlist. also me: haha funny brain post some more.

i don’t feel alright today but i hope y’all are doing good and touching grass. enjoy xx

masterlist

tagged maxverstappen1

liked by tillywolff, landonorris, georgerussell63

comments have been limited

yukitsunoda0511 did you go to akihabara then? liked by sylvieeford

maxverstappen1 she practically lived there if i’m being honest 😀

danielricciardo watch out mustang he might steal your supermodel career liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford he already snatched it. by the weave and all

landonorris left the country as an avid animal crossing gamer and supermodel, came back as an animal crossing gamer and supermodel with a hint of otaku liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford i can be hot and be obsessed with certain fandoms at the same time, best friend 🤐

landonorris i know, best friend. and i fw it 😍

pierregasly max had been texting us in the groupchat asking yuki about animes and street foods. he was studying that’s why he’s on the phone all the time 😂 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford we had a tour guide for a reason maxverstappen1 😭

maxverstappen1 yuki knew the seedy areas that we didn’t know about. how did you think i found our way into that alleyway of vending machines?

yukitsunoda0511 i helped him

sylvieeford it was quite sketchy but thank you yuki 😀 take me somewhere with lights next time caddy

charles_leclerc did you get me something?

sylvieeford my priceless presence during the next race?

charles_leclerc i’m hoping for something like some stuff from the mario theme park.

shawnmendes i’m glad you took my advice 😉 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford am i ever glad that i did.

maxverstappen1 if we hadn’t been listening to your playlist we probably wouldn’t have anything to do at home 😅

tillywolff is there anything for the little cubs perhaps??? 👀 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford maxverstappen1 lol about that

maxverstappen1 you’re gonna hate us so much

tillywolff oh god, you two went all out on the kids. victoriaverstappen these two are at it with the gifts again 🥲

victoriaverstappen we should swap lives for a day at some point and see how much clutter would you step on when you get them toys

sylvieeford actually we got them new friends and some new clothes from the nintendo shop 😉 then we went to sanrioland and got them all…

tillywolff you two need to stop the retail therapy

maxverstappen1 what’s done is done, tils 🤷‍♀️

christianhorner i’m glad you two missed me 🙄 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford don’t worry we got you something to compensate 😉

christianhorner i don’t even want to know.

maxverstappen1 posted a story !!!

bonus !!!

[thehappyscavenger]

Books Read in September 2024

Will and Testament by Vigdis Hjorth

Such an interesting book about an adult woman with a rift in her family who gets angry about losing out on a parental inheritance and then as the book goes on much more behind the rift is revealed.

I particularly like the way Hjorth made her narrator extremely imperfect right down to her recollections.

Seven Surrenders by Ada Palmer

Too Like the Lightening and this should be one giant book. They read like one and even though it's the second part of a series in no way does it stand on its own. I said when I read TLtL I admired its genius but not the plot. This is the perfect payoff for things she set up in the first book. 10/10

Art of Camouflage by Sara Power

Extremely meh collection of short stories about people who work in or are married to or the children of army people.

Other Minds and Other Stories by Bennett Sims

I loved this. A super eerie set of short stories that are unconnected except maybe by that sense of menace that pervades each one. I will be reading more Sims.

The Complete Short Novels by Anton Chekov

I'd heard such good things but alas I didn't really vibe with these Chekov novellas. I will say that outside The Steppe (which bored me to death) the characters still felt extremely modern. Everyone is going to complain, cheat, lie forever I guess

The People Who Report More Stress by Alejandro Varela

I read this for Latino heritage month. A series of interlinked short stories about a neurotic gay man navigating the pressures of society and just staying alive. I found this really compelling and touching and had the added bonus of really capturing the experience of being the adult child of immigrants. I'll be looking out for more Varela.

[turnloosethelibrary]

Once By Cee

It was a small success, cornering the man when she did. It was really simpler than she would’ve liked, but an easy trap wasn’t one to complain about, even if it set off little alarms that it was just too easy. There was no way he didn’t know it had been her to send the letter, promising secrets worth a pound in gold and an artifact that those in the business would kill for. She kept it vague. She’d been out of the game long enough that she had lost track, or forgotten, the names of the biggest legends, the pieces that came with a history of blood and cyanide.

The location was an abandoned building that was almost completely derelict. She was hiding in the metal rafters, out of sight. She’d chosen it specifically to put him on edge. After all, how similar it felt to the last time they met. Only now, she wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Not again.

He entered the building at twilight, two of his overgrown goons at his side. She rolled her eyes. There he was, prim suit with molding potatoes with legs as his protection. Unless he had backup outside (and she doubted it), this was going to be the easiest take of her life. She shook the thoughts off. Arrogance was what brought her to this situation in the first place, it was not going to take her out of it.

And of course, he wore that necklace. He wore it as a trophy, something for those under him to fear and gawk at, trampling over each other to get a bit closer to its power. It didn’t work for him, but he wouldn’t tell them that. The power in it responded to family, not force. He hadn’t been family for a very long time. Sometimes she wondered if he had known if it would stop listening to him when he decided to try to leave her for dead. The answer was it didn’t matter.

He looked around the room. There was a sluggishness to his movements she had never seen before. Either he was on guard, trying to make sure each step wasn’t bringing him into a trap or he was exhausted. She adjusted her position, a small squeak coming from her perch. She would strike when they had moved just under her rafter.

His guards would be the first targets. She wouldn’t kill them (though she wanted to), but a quick dose of miroxtaza would knock them clean out. She wasn’t cruel, knew what it was like to get sucked into the business as a grunt. Assuming they didn’t have a heart condition or a predisposition to addiction (there were only so many probabilities she could factor in), they’d come out of it fine, sans a job (if all went well). He turned with the thudding of bodies and looked at her. He froze.

She smiled and drew her weapon of choice, length of silver flashing from its sheath. The dim light couldn’t obscure the sword, he had known it well, wielded it long. She hadn’t had it for near the same amount of time, but had certainly gotten more intimate with it’s blade than she had ever wanted to. She hoped he could see the scar.  It made such a pretty little ribbon now.

“I knew it was you.” His voice was soft. Up close now, she could the bags under his eyes, the little signs of a man past his limits. She scowled and held his her blade at length. “I had hoped you had lived.”

She closed the rest of the distance between them, knocking him to the floor. Easy and easier, he never did have any real combat training. Not someone of the family, barely someone of the business. She had thought the fact he was self-taught through youtube cute. She raised the sword high, ready to strike down in the same way he had, once long ago.

He looked up at her, fearlessly. 

“I’m sorry.”

She froze. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to be sorry, not for something she could never forgive. A part of her, the romantic, the unkillable optimist wanted to believe that what he said was true. She could still see him with his puppy-dog eyes, giving her cards, little think-of-mes. Maybe someone could change so drastically, and if they did, maybe they could always change back. 

The rest of her that had gotten her throat slit and drowned her voice in acid knew exactly where he stood. 

He scrambled back up to his feet. She let him. “I really, truly am sorry. I didn’t realize - I never thought - none of this was worth it in the end. It never was.” 

She grit her teeth and stepped closer. She yanked the necklace off of him, the chain breaking apart. She looked down at it, slid it close to her heart, it wasn’t going to leave her again. Then she looked back at him. She thought about sticking her sword through him, he deserved it. That cold bastard. He who once meant the world to her. No, now she saw his world was one of greed and pity. She wanted no part in it. She turned on her heels. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of death.

She knew it wouldn’t give her want she wanted. 

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

dead men double date!

[feshsticks]

If you are gonna keep writing stuff (which i hope you do becuse to love the lonely *chefs kiss*) would you want to draw like pictrures of zed character to the story or would you rather want to have writing and drawing separate from each other.

aaaa bless u anon, you're v sweet. honestly, i don't draw a ton of stuff for my own stories often lmao. it feels...idk, like i'm blowing my own horn. which is fine for some! but it don't settle with me as much. that's not to say i don't at all though ;)

that being said, if it's asked for, it's unlikely i'll say no :P

[loveofdetail]

I love Terra Ignota in and of itself, but I also love what it (maybe) represents in the SFF landscape. I love that a work this unconventional and demanding got traditionally published, and by a debut author at that. These books were never going to be bestsellers (My local B&N has never stocked them!) but still/instead seem well-poised to take their place as influential sci-fi classics for decades and decades.

I have heard people complain that the first book, Too Like The Lightning, has no resolution and payoff. And actually? This is correct! Because what Ada Palmer has done is written the kind of story where dedicating the entire first volume to setup is not a flaw.

Does that strike you as an odd claim? Does it seem like an entire book of setup could never be anything but a hurdle to overcome? Maybe, for some stories, a begrudging necessity, but not something that could ever be a strength in its own right?

I think literary tastes have converged on a narrow range of easily parsable, reliably sellable plot structures. Hook rising action clear climax and that denouement better not overstay its welcome. I think modern readers assume, almost completely unconsciously, that the reason for this structure's ubiquity is because it really is the "best". Your average goodreads reviewer talks about books as though story structure is a solved problem, a closed case, and doesn't even realize that they think that. So the mere concept "story that genuinely REQUIRES a whole book of setup" is greeted with surprise and skepticism. Could any story REALLY need that? Where were the tough-love beta readers to tell this author to kill their darlings? Okay, maybe you actually have come up with a story (some kind of insane leviathan of a story) that DOES need a whole book of setup—but wouldn't a story that doesn't need that be a better story to write?

(🙄)

Individuals of course vary in their tolerance for deviation from the formula, but even celebrations of unusual story structures are often couched in terms of "making it work" (assuming unworkability as baseline) or, more tellingly still, being "worth it"—as though experimentalism is something the author is required to compensate the reader for.

I've at times needed to reassure people that the second book, Seven Surrenders, "goes somewhere", which is hilarious considering that fully half of SS is unrelenting gas-pedal-to-the-floor nutso. I have had an actual irl conversation with someone who just could not believe, no matter what I said, that book two could have a "more satisfying ending" (oh man, the assumption of "satisfaction" as an inherent literary virtue, satisfying ending functionally a synonym for GOOD ending, let's deconstruct THAT) than the first one. Because if an author were truly capable of delivering such payoff, why not just do it in the first book?

(🙄🙄🙄)

But saying "there's plot resolution in book two I prommy" is kind of missing the point. I straight up do not believe that TLTL's lack of traditional ending is a problem in the first place. On first read, I enjoyed it more than book two. My understanding is that this is not a common opinion! But I loved being dunked into this wild, disturbing, foreign world and just learning about it. Simply being introduced these characters and their ideas was fun on its own. On re-read, it's obvious just how craftily, steadily, calculatedly the author (and/or the in-world narrator) is dripping necessary information to you, which is a different kind of pleasure to experience, but the initial impression is one of directionless, fascinating deluge. TLTL does not feel the need to leave you with any sign of where this is all going, and it is a stronger and more beautiful book for that.

I do understand, both on an artistic and practical level, why people might gravitate toward tight standalones. Terra Ignota is essentially one story told across 1700 pages. That would be a big ask even if everything else about it were mainstream and easily marketable! Is it cynical of me to be shocked and amazed that these books were even allowed to exist, let alone that they have found the readership and acclaim that they have? I honestly don't know.

I want to read more books that are this thoroughly rule-breaking, weird, and challenging—not just in their content, but in more abstract ways like "ending the first book with nothing but dangling confusion" and "including chapters that the in-world narrator never gets around to editing and completing" and "waiting 1400 pages to reveal the full stakes of everything that's been going on". I hope Terra Ignota is a sign that difficult, counter-orthodox genre fiction still has an audience. I love this series but what I would love even more is for it not to be just some solitary fluke miracle.

[multifan2022]

Ok.. So now that the situation has been taken care of I wanted to just ask something of everyone.. Not just my followers but anyone who reads this.. Please.. Please remember that it is not easy to write good stories.. There are SO many out there for each character and it takes a lot of time to sit down and write. 

That being said.. Please if you want to share someone's work, just reblog it! Do NOT steal peoples writings.. Please do not claim it as your own.. Do not post it on Wattpad without permission from the Author.. It makes us.. well at least me not want to write. When I found my work not only on a different Tumblr page, but on Wattpad as well under someone else's name it really hurt me. 

As a single mother who works 3rd shift, I literally sacrifice sleep to write on here. Please do not take my work and claim it as your own. Do not share it, unless its a reblog, without speaking to me. 

To those of you who comment, like, reblog or even just silently read thank you. It means so much to me that people are so enthusiastic about not only mine, but anyones writing. This has been a place for me to share my work, which is something I do to help my mind escape my depression and anxitey. 

That being said, Ive had a stupid busy week so Im sorry for the slowish updates on TLTL. The last part will be out soon, I am currently working on it but I have my little sisters graduation tonight. I just finished cooking breakfast for 15 teenagers and now have to help them get ready. This upcoming week my job is bumping us up to 8 hours a day 7 days a week for the foreseeable future. I will do my best to keep posting frequently but please bare with me. 

As always my requests are open. I love you all!!

[kata4a]

I'm substantially more interested in reading tltl knowing it's a story told in the first person from the perspective of an extremely deranged individual(?) than I was when I thought it was just a neat worldbuilding exercise

[the-last-teabender]

Orbpocalypse Thoughts/Theories:

WARNING 1: Spoilers for up to “Party Fowl.”

WARNING 2: I feel like theorizing for TTRPGS and other collaborative stories requires not only a knowledge of the story and worldbuilding, but also a degree of awareness of and lenience for the multiple people involved and their personal desires. A theory might make perfect fictional sense while also robbing a player of agency or affecting the sustainability of Oxventure as a brand. (Yep, I said it, it’s true.) I also know that’s not what everyone’s here for, so if that sounds deeply un-fun to you, I won’t be hurt if you give this a miss.

WARNING 3: This is longer and more in-dept than anything about an online D&D game has any business being.

Okay guys here we go.

First up, I absolutely do not believe that the events of Orbpocalypse will lead to the end of magic in Geth during the events of Orbpocalypse, or even during the events of Oxventure D&D. In order for that to be the case, I feel like one of two things would have to have happened:

1. Johnny and the entire party privately agreed that they are going to completely alter the gameplay system, retool everyone’s characters permanently to non-casters, and then pretend on main as though none of them knew this would happen, effectively turning this into a scripted showcase rather than a game.

2. Johnny walked everyone through a massive level-up process, leaned on them to count spell slots, and gave Merilwen a bigger spell book, all while privately and without their input or consent permanently altering their characters (a move which would require class changes for pretty much everyone but Corazón) and waiting for the day to spring it on them that the character they’ve spent all this time on are now just. Different.

The former is way too 5D chess and feels more like TAZ than Oxventure. The latter is just cruel. (I say this with full awareness that Johnny has given Prudence a new character sheet for the time being. I do not consider this cruel at all. I’ll come back around to this point.)

The only way I can actually see Orbpocalypse ending magic in Geth permanently is if this is the end of Oxventure D&D, but OxBoxtra is very On Main about their plans. They’ve just branded, they’ve just made a “catch up” video, they’ve got a map and a podcast and all sorts of stuff. If anything this feels like a soft reboot for Ox D&D, which makes cutting magic from the gameplay even more of a Bad Idea.

IF Vocatus is directly connected to the end of magic in Geth, I believe it will be a slow leak — of a kind that would open the door for different games with different magic systems to be explored in the intervening millennia — and that what’s happening to the Oxventurers is foreshadowing of BitD’s broader problem.

Okay, Teabender, so what do you think IS happening?

Simple: the world is leveling up.

We all know Prudence’s magic loss is only temporary, right? Right. This is clearly something Jane and Johnny discussed before the session, but the tone with which it was discussed didn’t indicate any degree of permanence.

I think everyone over the course of the end of Orbpocalpyse will (temporarily) lose their magic, likely paired with something in-story that shakes their identity because Johnny’s really good at that. I believe they will have to defeat Vocatus WITHOUT their trademark skills, and that when they do they will inadvertently fulfill the prophecy and become the True Heroes of Geth. And then get their skills back — possibly somewhat altered, depending on if any of them were musing on refining their characters at all.

(Alternately they could get them back right before or during; that really depends on what kind of story Johnny wants to tell.)

Remember, too, how much focus there was from Bob about how super cool it is that they have magic, and that “this must all be normal for you.” That was said multiple times. And while Bob might just have been starstruck by cool adventure wizards, Johnny was working really hard to make sure that particular sentiment was heard and responded to by the party. It feels thematic.

But what about Dob? Shit, IDK. Dude was off being a dad. In my heart of hearts I want to see him pull some absolutely bonkers eleventh hour shit as he rejoins the party, but it will be what it will be. And it will be cool because Dob is cool.

tl;dr I don’t think Orbpocalypse leads immediately into BitD; I think, at best, it plants a seed for BitD that will take hundreds or thousands of years to actually grow, and might lead to future story arcs and quest lines. I think it is a hard marker for a new phase of Oxventure that will make it more viable in the world of D&D actual plays, and that will let the players adapt and work in any new thoughts or changes they want to make.

tltl;drdr: Orb probably not end magic.

[shiroxix]

hey what do you think was racist in tltl? tbh I don't remember anything (obv apart from Mycroft mentioning everyone's ethnicity when describing them, alongside other characteristics he wasn't great at interpreting). I had much more of a problem with the role-of-gender commentary, I think a lot of it just showed AP's biases/personal feelings and wasn't a very good extrapolation from the -modern world-

You have to keep in mind that the story is told from Mycroft’s point of view and that he’s not the most savory of characters. He’s got intense perversions all the way down. Any mention of gender roles or his gross infatuation with women is in-character and I wouldn’t fault Ada Palmer for it. You’re allowed to write books where the narrator has views that are different from your own– so honestly even my complaints of racism may be in-character, though it is a well-known fact that Palmer is a huge weeaboo and her obsession with anime would taint her views of Japan.

Most of the ‘racism’ is more in the form of ‘orientalism’, which isn’t a word I like to use. Every mention of Asia/the Mitsubishi is filled to the brim with Asian stereotypes both harmful and reductive. There’s incorrect descriptions of traditional Japanese clothing (mostly about Danea’s fucking boobs hanging out of a kimono like… if you’re wearing a kimono correctly, the damn thing is nearly a turtleneck) but just lots of nitpicky if-you-learned-about-Japanese-culture-from-anything-but-manga-you-would-know-better types of comments.

There’s generalizations of plenty of other nationalities too, but I think the ones about Japanese culture are the most… harmful? tbh I didn’t even notice the first time through and it wasn’t until a friend of mine complained about it that I even noticed them upon re-reading. It bothers some way more than others and some would even argue that me using the term ‘racist’ is too strong.

[compartmentalisinghmpf]

Unfinished Terra Ignota essay dump, pt. 4 (aka, the part where I gave up)

2.3. O.S.' Trolley Problem

O.S. differ from our previously discussed murderers in that the Trolley Problems they've been “solving” for ca. 200 years do not always seem to have been of the globe-spanning, existential sort. They were, rather, killing to preserve the status quo, preventing various sorts of economic and social instability, influencing politcal crises, up to and including preventing riots which might have killed people, maybe even many people, in some cases. They were not, as far as I can tell, trying to prevent outright war – although of course crises can escalate, so nipping them in the bud long before escalation could be interpreted as ultimately preventing wars, too. Also, Martin implies at the end of TLTL that the set-sets, at leasts, probably did see the possibility of war. It’s not clear if the whole of O.S. was aware of this, though.

How you evaluate the O.S.’ trolley problem really depends a lot on how believable you find the set-sets’ abilities. Does their analytical capability really enable them to, essentially, predict the future? And if so, then to what degree, at what granularity, can they predict the future?

Depending on the degree of certainty of the prediction you then run into all the problems already outlined above.

Of course, if you don’t grant the set-sets the ability to predict the future to the necessary degree, and assume that O.S. killed mainly or only to preserve economic and political equilibrium, their centuries of murder look even less morally defensible.

It’s also worth noting that they have the highest actual bodycount out of all our murderers here – so you’d need a particularly convincing [.......]

2.4. Trolley Problem Problems

Some of the general issues that make Trolley Problems such a moral headache have already been discussed in the context of Terra Ignota above:

- How can you be sure that Terrible Thing A really will happen?

- How can you be sure that Terrible Thing B will prevent Terrible Thing A from happening?

- Exactly how sure do you need to be of Terrible Thing A in order to make it morally permissible to commit Terrible Thing B to prevent it?

- If both the Terrible Things mean loss of lives, how do you decide which set of lives matters more?

- Can you decide if either set of lives matters more than the other?

- What if it’s future, potential lives vs. present lives? What’s the discount rate? Is there a discount rate?

- etc.

There is, however, also the fundamental question of whether it is ever morally acceptable to do this sort of calculus, to decide to sacrifice x number of lives to save y number of lives. There are compelling arguments that it isn’t [<--rephrase] - although that line eventually, if taken to its ultimate extreme, does tend to leave you unable to act in situations that do require a decision [?]

Furthermore, there is a very important question that needs to be asked about this whole conundrum cropping up in fiction, which is: why would you set up the world and story to centre on Trolley Problems in the first place? And more specifically: why cast the question of progress and of a better future as a question of war and mass murder?

[agendabymooner]

TO LOATHE AND TO LOVE || MV33 SERIES: a masterlist

f1 masterlist: a - n o - z

max verstappen x hearth sister!ofc (sylvie ford) - wip

summary: there is a massive difference between the two words, but sylvie was more than willing to blur out the line if it means for her to spend some time with what others called her soulmate, max verstappen.

content warning: 16+ content, use of explicit language, social media file + written fic format, mentions of paternal relationship issues, jos verstappen, mentions of mental health and problems with it, best friends to enemies to best friends to lovers (lol), gossips + rumours

one, it’s time to go: sylvie attended a christmas party and couldn’t seem to do what she normally did on the paddock: avoid max

two, closure: her memories haunted her so much that the red bull team principal thought of her to be incompetent, so it was only ideal of max to face the music too.

three, goodnight n go: she wasn't sure what was more surprising: toto's presence on her graduation celebration or max's expensive graduation gifts.

four, gorgeous: there's nothing more satisfying than seeing christian horner own up to his own mistake. that, and max's office-warming gift that he dropped off in sylvie's new on-site office.

five, cinema: sylvie was left feeling unsure when she and max did things that friends normally wouldn't do after she was broken up with by another man. (16+)

six, satellite: max verstappen might've avoided talking about what they had done before all of this, but he was certain he wouldn't get out of his way just to ignore her as he swore not to her one way or another ever again.

seven, mean: sylvie found herself with a million and a half pounds and winning against the boys who brought her racing career to an early end.

eight, long story short: they're friends, they said. they bought a house and adopted a dog together, they definitely did.

nine, mastermind: max wasn't going to admit that he was jealous. he wasn't going to tell her that he sabotaged her blind date, either. not that she didn't know.

ten, comfort crowd: ah yes, the first monday of may. when everyone speculated that sylvie was merely using him and when she finally admitted to missing him for the past four years.

eleven, matilda: they don't know much, maybe, but they know how they'll raise their children away from the toxicity that they grew up in, all thanks to their fathers who did nothing but set expectations. (hc)

extra: matilda volume two, smau: set years after the tltl series in which sylvie and max have the most adorable set of kids called emilia, lila and maximilian. (f)

twelve, wild: sylvie is smart and she was always quick to realize things. what she did not expect, however, was realize that she was in love with her best friend.

[fipindustries]

what Too like the lightning is not

too like the lightning feels very modern and yet at the same time very old.

Is like someone mashed together Jules Verne, Dune, Steven Universe and Sense8.

And i want to put special emphasis on the steven universe bit, Too like the lightning takes a lot from the current Zeitgeist, in the same way that things like america chavez or neokosmos or do. There is a lot of talk about race and identity politics, or rather is not actually talked about but it’s implicit in the way the story is told.

But what’s great about TLTL is that there is actualy substance beneath this, whereas other works are happy with slapping in a diverse cast and throwing around the occasional speech about how acceptance and tolerance is good in the most superficial of ways, in here there is a powerful understanding of the complex sociopolitical forces that shape the world, there is true understanding of history, of philosophy and most important of all, Ada Palmer knows how to weave those into the narrative seamlessly.

What makes Too like the lightning soo great is that it talks about all of these things but, (and i apologize for defining this so much through negatives) unlike The wicked+The divine, you actually want to sit down and listen, much like bridger listening to carlyle teach him about the religions of the past, you are not being talked down to, the story assumes you are just as smart as the author.

another thing that makes it so great is that, once again, many of the stories that deal with these topics tend to be (and this is a matter of personal taste) too boring.

here the story feels grandiose, the characters are titanic, the consequences and repercussion of the events are deep and far reaching. It feels like im reading about actual adults dealing with actual adult problems rather than 20 somethings who cant seem to be able to move on from puberty.

and finally the last reason why i like this story so much is because it feels like the good old humanistic science fiction that i havent seen in a long time. This goes beyond the latest dredge of post-apocalyptic and dystopic futures we’ve seen in the past few years. i always made clear my distaste for black mirror but until recently i was never too sure why i disliked it so much. Now i know.

Black mirror is not only heavy handed and pesimistic, it is not like the science fiction i used to read as a kid, the old tradition of jules verne and isaac asimov and arthur c clarck and carl sagan, and fuck, even elizer yudkowsky. A tradition based on the belief that we CAN make a better world be real, a tradition that looks up to the capacity for humanity to do good instead of looking down and wondering how we’re going to fuck up with the help of technology.

and that is why i like too like the stars so much.

[turnloosethelibrary]

Breaking and Practicing  By Cee

Skyler had the thrum of excitement in her throat and the jangling on new spray bottles in her pocket. She had finally found time to start a new project with a mark she had cased for months. It was safely abandoned, door locks rusted and air dusty, potentially moldy. Weeds dusted the front lawn. It was made of bricks, rare in that part of the city, but what made it special was the living room. There was a single circular window in the room - that was what had attracted Skyler to the abandoned house in the first place, the natural light and shade would fun to play around with. In the three months that she had checked in on the house, she hadn’t once seen nor heard any sign of a living being. She entered from the back door, hoodie pulled up to obscure her face from any prying neighbors. She had had enough time during her stake out to figure out roughly their schedule. To her knowledge, they both were still at work. One worked at the airport, car covered in parking stickers, and was most likely a red-eye shift, the other was far more sporadic and the exterior of his house gave no indication of his position. There was a draft in the room, a tingle running up her spine. She thought she heard something in the wind, but there was no discernable source and she chalked it up to nerves. These kinds of projects always got her nervous. Still, she crept through the house with care, avoiding loose floorboards, her shoulders up to her ears. She came to the archway of the living room having sufficiently mastered the stealth needed.

Skyler froze. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone there. There certainly wasn’t supposed to be a woman with pure black hair wearing a tutu doing a pirouette in the center of the room. Faint orchestral music played from a small radio that had been set up in the corner. She wasn’t sure if the house had been bought and she just moved in - there wasn’t anything else to indicate the house was occupied, no lights on, no car in the driveway. Before Skyler could run, the ballerina noticed her and froze. It was like a dog noticing itself in the mirror, neither one of the women wanting to move for fear of the other one calling the police. Skyler broke the spell, taking a step back from the archway, then another, to make it clear she wasn’t a threat. The ballerina turned, bundled the radio in her arms and ran, leaving her normal shoes in the process.

She had ran out too fast for Skyler to get a clear view of her face. Something told her the ballerina had done the same thing Skyler had wanted to do - use this abandoned house to practice their art. But, if she was wrong, if the ballerina had owned the place and simply hadn’t been able to take care of the house, then she would most likely be going to the police station and Skyler did not want to deal with that. She groaned and picked her stuff back up. She could do more research, find another mark that wouldn’t have strange women practicing dance in broken plain white rooms.  

She couldn’t get the images of the wide circular window framing one of her pieces out of her head. She couldn’t get the ballerina out of her head either, so curious the moment was, but she wouldn’t admit that one to herself. It was a month before she went back again, vowing to be more careful. She cased it for a week, and was totally satisfied with it being empty. Still, she waited an hour when she arrived before walking in, looking for any signs of movement in the house. Nothing. It was as still as night. She went in through the back door, which was open just a crack. She didn’t close it behind it, though that would’ve given her a comfort of mind. This time she heard the music long before she had entered the living room. She resolved herself, she was going to at least ask the ballerina if she was a tenet before going and leaving again. She wouldn’t be able to let the room or her plans for it go without knowing for sure. She took a step, clearing her throat to grab the ballerina’s attention, who was crouched over her small radio.

“Uh, hi.” Skyler started, “Do you live here?”

The ballerina froze and turned, eyes wide, then shook her head, “Do you?”

“Well then, I guess we’re accomplices then.” Skyler didn’t want to scare her off, “Do you mind if I join you? I just want the wall.”

“The wall?” The woman looked down at what Skyler held in her hand, the bag full of paint. “Oh. You’re a painter?”

“Of a sort.” Skyler shrugged, she wasn’t sure how the ballerina would take to her being a graffiti artist. Often, people of a high standard viewed what she did as vandalism and morally wrong. She thought it was fair game if the buildings weren’t being used, after all the only person being hurt then would be banks and she didn’t care much about hurting them. “It wouldn’t bother you if I worked a bit on the wall, would it?”

“No, I suppose not.” The ballerina stood up, then came over to her. “I’m Aurora, you are?”

Skyler looked at her outstretched gloved hand, for a second her mind blanked, did she give her her artist name or…. “I’m Skyler.” She said.

“Skyler, I hope I won’t bother you.”

“I doubt it, from what I saw last time, you’re quite a dancer.”

The smile dropped from her face, “How long were you there last time?”

“Oh, I’d gotten there just a few seconds before you noticed me, I was deciding if I wanted to leave or not when, well-” Skyler shrugged, “I hadn’t expected anyone to be here, I haven’t noticed anyone come in or out any of the times I’ve watched this place.”

“I’m good at being quiet.” Aurora stepped back into the room, adjusting the radio further.

“I guess so.” Skyler took out a pencil, not wanting to start painting until she’d figured out exactly where the light of the window shone onto the wall. The circle wasn’t perfect, she expanded it slightly to account for the fading evening light. She had brought a small light and a curtain to block the window out, so that people outside would be unable to tell that there was someone inside the house. She planned to hang that up the later it got.

Beside her, Aurora started running through her routine. Skyler didn’t know the name of the moves, running and jumping and spinning moves that Skyler couldn’t do in a million years. Skyler tried to not stare at her, tried to avoid even glancing at the stranger but she had so many questions like what brought such a dedicated dancer to practicing in an abandoned building? She almost asked, but didn’t want to interrupt her, not after already taking up so much of her time.

She pulled her face mask up, protecting her mouth and nose from the fumes of the can. She planned on making the background of the circle dark blue, maybe some kind of night sky. For all she had imagined the painting, she hadn’t quite nailed down the message. She needed to focus on it, to focus on what she needed to say.

But she couldn’t take her eyes off of the practicing Aurora. She didn’t want to stare, she thought it would be quite rude especially if the woman noticed her but how mesmerizing even her stretches were. She was stronger than she had expected a ballerina to be, more muscular but then, her media exposure to them had been a show about a mouse and one girl who was rather stuck up in elementary school. Not the best crowd to form judgements from. Skylar shook herself, then shook her can and started to spray, still watching her out of the corner of her eye. The thing about using a spray can is that often all 360 degrees felt exactly the same amount of roughness, so she had no warning that the nozzle was facing her until she got a faceful of dark blue paint.

She swore and stumbled back, dropping her can. She coughed, though it wasn’t necessary. She laid on the ground dramatically, thinking about her lot in life. Aurora came up to her and offered her hand, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, that’s the benefit of the mask and the glasses. Not terribly injured, just painted.”

“I thought that was to keep cops from recognizing you?”

“Dual purpose.” Skyler grinned as she took off her accessories. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“You look like a blue racoon.” Aurora hid her laughter behind her gloved hand.

Skyler sat up, looking seriously at the ballerina, “The Blue Racoon has a ring to it, don’t it?”

Aurora smiled, “I suppose it does.”

“I think I might make that my tag. I haven’t come up with a real good one.” Skyler laid back down, “Well, B.R. for short, in case I get into the real risky marks. I probably won’t, my art’s a statement but I’m not sure I want it out there so brazenly.”

“Wouldn’t you want more people to see it?” Aurora asked.

“Seeing how long it takes people to discover it and erase it is part of the fun.” Skyler shrugged, “No art can be permanent, I’m a bit more honest about it.”

Aurora snorted, “That sounds kind of pretentious.”

“Yeah, I guess it kinda is, but you know? Most people don’t see it as a pretentious artform, so maybe I can make up for that, just a little bit.” Skyler smiled.

Aurora cocked her head, taking in the smaller woman. “Well, I suppose that’s fair. I think I ought to get back to my dancing, good luck with your painting.”

They did this for two weeks, meeting every day at the same time, each practicing and getting absorbed in their art. It became the brightest point of the day for Skyler. They talked, sometimes between their practices, whenever one needed a break. Occasionally, one would bring the other a meal and they would share a picnic.

On Friday that third week of their meetings, Aurora wasn’t dancing when Skyler entered, instead pacing the floor and wringing her hands. Skyler instantly set down her bags and approached her. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I have auditions tomorrow, at the Sherloin Company.” Aurora had pinpricks of tears forming, her face red.

“That’s great Aurora!” Skyler said, rather confused at how she ought to have properly

reacted. It upset the woman, clearly, but she could not decide what she needed to say to her.

“What if they don’t accept me? What if there’s someone better? I’m not going to be able

to keep on taking time out of my day to do this, I’ll have to get a job and then I won’t ever be able to dance again and-”

“Aurora, if you love dancing, you will find a way even if you don’t get in, understand? I believe in you and your dedication.”

“Skyler, you don’t understand. Even if I have another chance, would I be able to afford it? I’ve barely been able to convince my parents to support me these past months, if I fail now I-” Aurora hid her face in her hands.

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Skyler directed her to the pillows that had been set up as seats. “There now, don’t cry, please.”

“I’m poor you know. I learnt all I know from youtube videos, ever since I was young. I practiced. I spent all I could on this, worked as soon as I could but once I was out of school, I lost all my chances. My parent’s thought it was a fool’s dream and that I should go back and learn business or something, Skyler, that study would kill me inside, I know it.”

“You know yourself best, Aurora. Some parents just don’t understand that.”

“I just wish that they-” Aurora started to cry again.

“Oh dear.” Skyler went to hug her, hesitated halfway with her arms up, not sure if it would’ve been acceptable. There was something unfamiliar in her heart, warm and foreign, she had no idea if Aurora felt the same. But she closed the gap herself, falling into Skyler’s arms and sobbing into her shoulder.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms. Skyler wasn’t sure what that made them, not quite lovers, not quite friends. Something more, something less. When they left that night, Skyler almost gave her a kiss, a small one on the cheek that she could’ve simply laughed off but when she leaned in she caught her eye and she froze. She coughed and looked down, “Good night, Aurora.”

Aurora lifted up Skyler’s chin, looking down rather fondly, “Good night, Skyler.”

For once, Aurora didn’t beat her there. Skyler entered the room almost weightless. She had bought some wine, either for celebration or for drowning their sorrows, depending on how the day went. Their hopes were She waited there an hour, two before realization started to set in.

“Gods, Gods.” Skyler’s voiced echoed in the empty room. She wasn’t sure if the echo had always been there or if it had just came about to mock her. Of course Aurora wouldn’t need to come back here if she had gotten into the company. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She blinked hard. She had to have known somewhere deep down that their time together wouldn’t be forever. She finished the painting, the ballerina made still, carrying a ribbon that enveloped the world, galaxy falling behind her. She didn’t feel it. The last few black streaks were rushed. It was time for her to move on anyway, she’d never spent so much time on one painting, never spent so much time on one person either. She picked up her stuff and she left. She tried to find another mark, some place else to spend her time but her thoughts kept on returning to that old brick building, again and again. She read the news more than she ever had, worrying that one day she would see an obituary for her. A month passed, and it seemed the time they had spent together would be a strange anomaly. A moment of time that wasn’t supposed to have happened and won’t happen again.

The library became her second home. She didn’t truly expect her to just wander on in there, but it seemed as good a spot to check out anyway. She couldn’t keep checking that abandoned house. Seeing what she had left made her heart hurt a small bit. There was no news, save for an announcement of a new show from the company that she had auditioned for. It wasn’t to be a long one. Skyler didn’t know what it would be considered, she had tried to understand all the terms for shows but they went off of her, just the way math had. She supposed it was quite a good thing she understood her art, otherwise she would be quite useless in everything else.

Skyler spent half of her paycheck on a ticket, not quite front row, but not in the back. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was creepy, what she was doing, but one last time, that was all she had wanted. Just one last time to see her and then she’d move on. It was a beautiful performance. Aurora wasn’t a lead, but she was there, dancing as a bird, as a turtle, going through as many costume changes as she could in an hour. She looked so happy, so painfully happy, even in the stern scenes.

There was a standing ovation and a burst of pride in Skyler’s chest. That was what she needed, what she deserved. Skyler joined the crowd, following them while she thought. The thrum of people took her to the back of the theater, people holding play bills hoping to get a signature from their favorite dancer. She was jostled, back and forth, not coming near the front until the dancers started to come out, prancing around proudly. Skyler hadn’t paid much attention to them, she couldn’t say what the show was even about. For as much as the tickets had been, she had only really been there for one reason. She was pushed into a corner, to the front and closest to the door as people tried to get acknowledgement from the stars.

Finally, there she was, in her last costume a raven of darkest night. Skylar’s breath caught in her throat. Aurora was looking away. Skyler told herself to not to call out, to let the woman go onto the next stage of her life where she was successful and didn’t worry about a ragtag graffiti artist.

“Aurora?”

“Skyler?” Aurora turned on her heels. Her face was red already from the exertion but now her eyes started to wet with tears. She threw her arms around Skyler, leaning over the safety barriers, holding her tight. “I looked, so long for you but you never came back and I’m so sorry, I should’ve left a letter or something for you to find. I just hadn’t had the time to come back once I got in, there were daily rehearsals and-”

“Aurora, don’t worry about it.” Skyler bit her lip, “I should’ve gone back more than that one night. I jumped to assumptions.”

“Oh, Skyler.” Aurora sighed, “Still, I’m so sorry. Your painting was magnificent, was that- was that how you see me?”

Skyler blinked, “I see you so much more so than that.” She sighed, then pulled out the cell phone she had bought, only a week ago. She had thought of so many “Aurora, can I have your phone number? Maybe we can meet up for coffee sometimes? Some place where we won’t risk being arrested if we’re caught?”

Aurora looked at her, smile brightening, “It’s a date.”

[mionjazri]

Sooo I did an animatic :o My first ever animatic :D Yeah.

[agendabymooner]

long story short ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series

"and he feels like home. if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go."

summary: their closest friends are more surprised that they're playing house without the label. OR sylvie hearth wasn't impulsive - in fact her conscience came in the form of a red bull driver named max verstappen. (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)

content warning: they give off found family vibe tbh, use of explicit language, moving in, they're just "friends" and everyone "agrees" that they are, lando is a lovechild, mentions of father figures and j*s verstappen (being shitty), mentions of protective!toto and supportive!tilly spoiling ofc.

note: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR (shout out to @flowerchild-96 you literally give me the support and thoughts that had me motivating myself into writing more 😭)

masterlist

tagged max33verstappen

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, charles_leclerc

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tillymarie incredibly happy for you lovie !! ❤️ liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford thank you soooo much for the g-wagon tillyyyyy ❤️

steviemarlz ok but whiskey looks hot in here ngl liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford RIGHT?!!! also don't say that as if you hadn't gotten your dream impala 🙄 don't cheat on winchester like that

aimeeyh are you seriously getting yourself a collection?? i could've sworn i've seen a caddy and a mustang on your garage 🙁 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford don't tell toto that 😢

lewishamilton when's the housewarming? looking forward to it! liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford during my week off 😙 bring the good stuff

lewishamilton you mean the collection of niki lauda car figurines??

sylvieeford yes?! put an ayrton senna while you're at it ❤️

lewishamilton you better be lucky i love you lovie

charles_leclerc is this a new hangout location then? liked by sylvieeford

max33verstappen you're not allowed to step foot in the house if that's what you're asking 🤷‍♂️

danielricciardo sleepover at sylvie's when?? 👀 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford five rooms available only, first come first serve, fee includes moet and daiquiri recipe

danielricciardo on it mini boss 😇

landonorris i'm not even allowed to drink yet :( liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford i hope you like shirley temple

landonorris yeah i'll take that bestie :)

She could admit that it was an impulsive decision, but her seven-bedroom and four-bathroom cottage was the best purchase that she’s made.

This was the first time she had purchased her own house. Not rent. Not a flat either, but a house. She loved staying in Brackley, if she was being honest, but there were times when she felt as if she needed a change in environment. Something more… like her. 

Sylvie could be considered a Wolff especially with the equally intimidating look that they would both give to people that wanted to speak business. Toto was a mentor to Sylvie and she’d often shadow him back when she wasn’t working at Red Bull. Over time, Toto had grown fond of her work ethics and enthusiasm. 

So to hear her say that she was buying a house halfway through Milton Keynes and Brackley (Buckinghamshire, if anyone asked) was kind of a disappointment for him. After all, she and her sisters had always been Mercedes girls. 

(Even if Tilly owned Red Bull, she too was a Mercedes girl.)

Regardless, he continued to express his admiration for her work ethics. Hell, he and Tilly had even bought her a Mercedes as a part of her new car collection. She never asked them for it— they didn’t understand that when she said “she was collecting them” as she meant that she had a wall of hot wheels displayed in her entertainment room. 

But regardless, her slate gray Mercedes G-Wagon — one that she called Whiskey — became her favourite car. She drove to the Red Bull headquarters every day using Whiskey. Everyone was rather appalled to see a Mercedes parked in the staff parking lot. 

By everyone, she meant everyone. 

The first time she parked it by Christian’s car, the first person who had greeted her was Daniel— who arrived with his Aston Martin.

“Holy shit,” Daniel wolf whistled as she stepped out of her car with a grin. “You’re planning to give the boss a heart attack, Blue.” 

“Do you like her?” Sylvie cheekily grinned as she patted the hood of her vehicle, “Her name’s Whiskey. She’s quite pretty and makes the greatest noise ever.”

“Oh yeah I bet,” Daniel snorted at the joke. “I don’t take you for a hard liquor type.”

“I’m not,” Sylvie beamed, “there’s just something about her that screams wild.”

“Like the 10 year old you were not?” Daniel raised a brow, amused smile written on his face. The Mustang donut had been discussed enough in the grid that everyone is permitted to make that joke.

Another Aston Martin pulled up to the parking lot before she could even respond, the sunglasses of the driver inside lowering down as his jaw dropped. Just as he parked, Max Verstappen stepped out of the car while gaping at the sight of her G-Wagon. He had just arrived from France and went directly to the office, bringing his Aston Martin along.

“I don’t recall you having that,” Max started. “I would have known.”

“Of course you would,” Daniel snickered, “you’d know when her cycle starts if I asked for it.” Sylvie stomped on Daniel’s foot before gesturing at her newest baby. 

“Toto said that I need some reminder of him whenever I enter the enemy realms,” Sylvie patted her vehicle once more, “enter Whiskey.”

“Whiskey?” Max’s brow raised at the response, “You should have called it Daiquiri. You’d throw your lungs up if you took a shot of whiskey without fruit on it.”

“No need to throw it out there, Maxie,” Sylvie rolled her eyes before walking off with her shoulder carrying her purse. “It’s not like you could shoot whiskey either.” 

Max peered at Daniel, who had a smile written on his face as he continued on.

“The girl isn’t wrong, Max,” Daniel shrugged before following the woman to the entrance. 

“I could tolerate it,” the Dutchman finally followed along as they all entered the facility. “But right now I’m just looking forward to seeing Christian’s reaction to your Whiskey.” 

“You fools aren’t renting a flat in London, are you?” 

“If we say no, will you go away?” Daniel started. It was one o’clock, and this was the first thing that Sylvie got for an answer on a genuine question. 

Sylvie looked at the Dutchman. Max shrugged, “You know I’m not.”

“What, are you two like— fucking mind readers or something?” Daniel joked, “You have some freaky shit going on with knowing each other.”

The younger ones glared at him.

“I know he isn’t renting,” Sylvie huffed out, rolling up the magazine on her hand and smacking Daniel with it. “He lives with me.” 

“What?” Daniel’s eyes widened, looking back and forth at the two. How easy was it for them to say that? How could they even say that aloud? 

The truth was that it wasn’t as easy. 

When Max told his family about living in England before the season started, his sister immediately rang Sylvie’s phone and giddily asked if Max and her were dating. Sophie was more than excited that she had flown in to give Sylvie a gift for her new home. Sylvie didn’t want to know how Jos reacted, and she and Max agreed that he wasn’t welcome in the cottage. The Hearth sister was pretty scared about the fact that they thought she and Max were dating— they were NOT. 

And when Sylvie and Max attended her family dinner and said that the Dutch were living in her home, Toto’s eyes told Max a lot about how he felt towards the news. Truthfully, Max wished that he could find a closet to hide in. Toto was going to kill him just by staring. Her sisters and mother were a different story; they knew Max well enough that they trusted him with Sylvie. Tilly had to nudge her beau just to get him to lay off the younger man. 

So yes, saying it aloud wasn’t easy for them. At first. But now it’s like a usual thing to say. 

“What?” Sylvie raised a brow at the Aussie. “You’ve never spent less than what you pay for before? We’re sharing the bills.”

She completely forgot to mention that she had already paid the estate fully. Max was only paying for the groceries. And they were barely at home.

tagged archdigest, max33verstappen

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, steviemarlz

comments have been disabled

georgerussell63 ohhh so this is what you meant by car collection 😂 liked by sylvieeford

max33verstappen she also bought an orange cadillac after her mum got her the blue mustang - as if she'd ever replace the iconic mustang donut that she did when she was 10

sylvieeford we do not talk about blue like that

landonorris NAW BLANCHE GOT YOU THE WILD MUSTANG?!!

alex_albon no lad, she is the wild mustang liked by sylvieeford

steviemarlz geez max33verstappen your sim racing room is just as empty as lovie's soul not gonna lie

sylvieeford sleep with one eye open, steve.

max33verstappen 😂😂

victoriaverstappen i like the office! it's giving couple without labels vibes

landonorris what she said ^^

maxfewtrell i second that victoriaverstappen 👍

lewishamilton and you still want the senna and lauda car collection?? after all of that wall of hot wheels? liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford it's a necessity for my study 😿

lewishamilton unbelievable lovie 🤦‍♂️

sylvieeford hehe ❤️

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user1 max is giving househusband with all of that DIY shit he did at their offices HAHAHA

user2 she purchased the whole estate and had it renovated... jesus she is loaded

user3 how to tell if it's also a racer's home: have the endless collection of trophies displayed in the drawing room

user4 she also competed before so it could be her trophies and old helmets

user5 ok but she has a collection of helmets gifted to her by drivers like michael schumacher, alain prost and jackie stewart- that's saying a lot about how close her family is to formula one and shit

user6 these two moved in together, decided on what to put up in the house and people around them still think they're friends?

user7 soulmates is what people call them. there's a lot of articles saying that they aren't just childhood friends and this video clearly shows it

user8 the reason why they're so close was because they have a fair share of experiences with fathers who only want them for the glory of being in a podium. it's not fully discussed by them but the way of how tilly spoke about the two showed that these kids need a damn break lmfao

user9 julius and j*s get off their dick challenge 😩

The first time their friends came over for a night in, they were baffled to say the least. 

Lando Norris was the first to arrive at the small gathering, bringing a bottle of Moët as if they already hadn’t had enough of it during the last season. When Max opened the door on him the Brit’s first words were: “Holy shit, Max, you’re a royal, mate!” 

“Uh hello, too?” Max stepped aside to let him in. 

“This place is fancy,” Lando continued as his eyes twinkled in awe. “You should have said you were looking for a house, lad. I would’ve paid half of this just to live here!”

“I don’t own this house,” Max’s brows crinkled in confusion. 

“You don’t?”

“This is Sylvie’s house.” 

“Oh,” Lando trailed off, his eyes then widening at the realization as he gasped, “Sylvie’s?! Oh that absolute bitch— why didn’t you tell me you were getting a house Sylvia?!” 

Lando got lost for a moment inside the house, trying to find the sizzling and chopping sounds as he finally located his best friend. 

Lando was ready to give her a piece of his mind, if it hadn’t been for a small feisty figure that had him cowering a little. 

Sylvie didn’t even notice the smaller boy enter until a yapping echoed inside the already loud kitchen, looking up as she jumped at the sight of Lando. “What the hell— Lando!” 

“You’re telling me what the hell,” Lando argued back before pointing down to the tiny fighting figure in front of him, “you didn’t tell me you bought this house for yourself and now you’ve got a sewer rat for a pet?!” 

“Hey, don’t call the baby a rat,” Max called Lando out before walking past him, giving him a smack in the head before he knelt down and picked up the figure. 

“You have a puppy, Max! A puppy, Sylvie!” Lando was still shell shocked about this whole ordeal. There was too much to talk about. 

“Oh this little thing is my baby,” Sylvie told the boy, reaching out to pet the miniature schnauzer puppy. “Cute, no?” 

“Besides I have told you I was buying a place,” Sylvie told Lando. “You were the first one I texted. Even Max, who lives here, didn’t get a chance to know first.” 

“I didn’t think you’d get a cottage,” Lando cried out. “A cottage in the village, while you’re at it.” 

“It’s more peaceful here,” Sylvie admitted, Max nodding along as she continued, “At least I don’t have to freak out for living in the loudest places ever.” 

“Can I pet him?”

“Yeah, you can pet her,” Max corrected Lando with a scowl. “Her name’s Marinara.” 

Lando paused in his tracks, baffled at the name as he looked at Sylvie, “You named her, didn’t you? Don’t tell me no because she’s got an obscure name— no one would name someone so stupid but you.”

“What do you mean— fine,” Sylvie replied dully, “I did. But that’s because Max wanted to name her something basic like he is. Cookie— seriously, Max.” 

“It’s rather fitting for her,” Max shrugged, bouncing the puppy in his arms. “She got some Oreo features.” 

“She’s a bit lighter than a cookie,” Sylvie protested, “besides even if she was an Oreo, I’d call her Oreo instead of Cookie. Basic bitch.” 

Lando stared at the two of them with an amused expression. There was so much that had changed in the span of a year, and Lando didn’t want to point that out— he didn’t want to jinx it. He was just glad that the two were playing house once more. Hopefully this time, it becomes a permanent fixture in his life. 

After all, he was the first to witness the building and destruction of their relationship. He was certain that there was love shared between the two of them. 

Peering down at the dog’s name tag, his eyes twinkled with joy as he scanned the engraved letters repeatedly.

Marinara Ford-Verstappen

And they said that they were just being practical with living together. They have a puppy and they live in the same house— as of this point they might as well share a bed and get married. Nobody would stop them seeing as the decision to move together and have a support pet were made without telling anyone.

If you were to ask anyone else, Sylvie wasn’t really impulsive. 

She hadn’t just purchased this house just because. Talking to a real estate agent about making a decision was rather difficult, so she phoned Max and asked if he preferred having two and a half bathrooms or something. Then, the next time they met she dragged him to the open house in Buckinghamshire.

She also had him picking out a puppy from the litter in their local pet shelter, which ended up being Marinara. 

They weren’t exactly impulses if she got a second opinion from him. 

tagged max33verstappen

liked by roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton, steviemarlz

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alex_albon "sewer rat pet"

sylvieeford that's just lando lol

roscoelovescoco i luvs yous, friends! 🐶 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford see u at the paduck, frend! -marinara

danielricciardo we want a marinara ig page 🤩 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford max can barely run his own instagram lmao

max33verstappen rude!

tillymarie look at that baby girl 🐶😍 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford you'll see her a lot on the paddock 👀 on her red bull outfit and everything

redbullracing is that our new mascot?!! liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford she'll be replacing christianhorner on duty 😍

gerihalliwell haha! looking forward to meeting her, sylvie! liked by sylvieeford

max33verstappen i'm so appalled she stays still whenever you take her photo while all the photos i've taken of her are blurry 🙄

sylvieeford she already favours you over me. ME, the one who takes her out to go potty 😒 stop whining, maxie.

max33verstappen must be tough not being the favourite parent huh

sylvieeford i hope she pisses on your bedroom rug bitch 🤬

ps: the birth of the "ford-verstappen" household and marinara ford-verstappen hehehe ❤️