Just, imagine for a second
You’re an Australian ex-rugby player living in London circa 2016.
You’re married, just had or are about to have a son, doing some personal training work with motorsport athletes.
You go into your gym one day and see this skinny little blond kid, pushing himself to the max, trying desperately to bulk up a little, but all alone. Your newly honed Dad Instincts are telling you something’s up.
So you go over, ask to spot him, start learning about his life. You’re surprised to hear the squick of a distinctly non-British accent. You suddenly have a tiny American teenage boy with big, eager eyes on your hands and you do the one thing you think will work: you ask him about sports.
That’s not the last time you’ll meet him, in fact you’ll continue to meet him regularly over the course of a year.
You talk about American sports, to start with. NFL, NBA, MLB, MLS. You’re almost surprised by the scope of the kid’s knowledge so you talk about Premier league teams and cricket and Aussie football. He meets you every step of the way.
Finally, you just ask him, what are you doing here all alone, kid?
He’s a racecar driver, he says. Just won the karting junior world championship, trying to make the jump up to formula cars. He’s been living in England for about a year now but he’s lived in Europe since he was 11, been on his own besides from karting coaches, driving coaches, and teaches since he was 12. He says, I’m gonna drive in Formula 1.
And damn. You remember how hard it was for you moving from Australia to the UK, and you were a full grown adult. This kid’s in an entirely new country, working his butt off for something most people can only dream of, and he’s doing it almost entirely on his own.
And you think about your son, so small, still reliant every day on his mom and dad. And you think you can help this kid, and not just guiding him on workouts or diets. You can be a mentor, a role model, a teacher and a friend. You can be a helping hand on this kid’s way of achieving everything he ever dreamed of.
Your professional days are behind you. You’re more than happy to sit back and help the younger generation help.
And now you’re watching, 7 years later, as that little boy in the gym who turned into an older brother for your kids, a helping hand for your wife, a friend for you- you’re watching him become everything he ever wanted to be.
That little boy you found all those years ago has turned into one of the strongest men you know.
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The Paradise Protec̶̯͝t̷̨́i̵̯͊o̴̧͑n̸̮̓ ̴͒ͅP̷͚̉r̶͕̽ȏ̸̯ẗ̴̳́ó̵͜c̸̻̆ol has sư̷̪m̷͎̐m̶̟̉oned a pow̷̪̿e̷̜͐r̸̡͗f̶̐͜u̴͓͋l̸̞̐ ̸͓͊t̷͎̍r̷̩͌a̸͍͝i̷͙͐ņ̸̑e̶̠̎r!
Volotober day 1, ehe~ What if Sara/Turo could summon a powerful trainer to fight for them? Perhaps the trainer that's rumoured to be one of the strongest in history~
...
What are these strange memories..?
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Some old human Dinky concepts that I got to finish today, he supposed to look waaaaayyy older but I dunno how to make him look older but I tried my best lol why he be looking like that💔
Plus gay redraw I did in a few minutes
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i don't know if anyone's brought this up yet, but in carmy's new york flashback in episode 2, all of the chefs are wearing blue aprons—the exact kind of blue apron that he introduces to the crew in episode 3.
so, not only is carmy working in an environment that can be described as mentally exhausting at the bare minimum, festering in a kitchen full of little reminders of michael that ooze from every corner like a seeping wound—he's also decided to top that off with a constant visual reminder of the other frenzied hellscape he used to work at.
i knew carmy was self-destructive, but holy shit. the worst part is, on the other side of that pain there's absolute delight. his world is the kitchen. every torment and every pleasure are met with the same amount of reverence because he has nothing else to hold on to aside from his knives, his cookbooks, and his apron.
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