#fuck the racing though

[vibes-and-visuals]

I only got into formula 1 in like early November 2023 but god it has consumed me wholly, what do I even do with myself now. I love these millionaires and this fucking sport, god I love cars.

#it started with Lewis Hamilton #but now it’s the whole fucking grid #why are all of them so fine though? #does money do that? #I would not know #maybe it’s the g forces #nah cause post race got me bricked up #that’s a joke #is it though? #f1 #lewis hamilton #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #fernando alonso #lando norris #max verstappen #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #oscar piastri #yuki tsunoda #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #alex albon #logan sargeant #checo perez #sergio perez #lance stroll #valtteri bottas #zhou guanyu

[butchkelev]

does anyone remember a post that described a fantasy along the lines of “my dom/me put on an excruciatingly terrifying and brutal horror movie, forced me to watch the screen the entire time, and only touched me during the most grotesque parts” because i think about that A Lot.

#i’m really not into horror that much… love psychological horror so fucking much though #but yeah i think about that a lot. it’s a combination of safety and terror that gets my heart racing #t4t ns/fw #t4t nsft

[vicsy]

They had an agreement, thing is. 

Lance hadn't forgotten even in the midst of getting his brain scrambled and his body feeling like jelly once the last bits of the adrenaline seeped out of him; evaporated like droplets of water on the heated surface of the Singapore race track, streaked with burnt tyre marks and covered in the debris of his car.

His dad caught up with him at the doors of the med center, tugging Lance in for a mindful hug, away from cameras and those media vultures. The doctors had already cleared him of the worst but Lance couldn't fight a jittery feeling, even with Lawrence's hold steadying him in more ways than one. He powered through it, though, managing a quick foray to catering and finding nothing to his liking. 

Lance's phone was a minute or two away from blowing up, messages and notifications piling up. He called his sister instead of texting her back, gingerly sitting on the side of the hotel room bed, the aftermath of his crash reverberating through his bones, a faint buzzing under his skin. When Chloe picked up with envious speed, as if she's been waiting, Lance cut off whatever she was gearing up to say, his voice steadier than he felt. 

Fine. He was fine. He didn't have to see the pics; he's been there, he lived through it. Saved him from the mockery of it all, for sure.

He set his phone on the nightstand beside a pack of painkillers the doctors prescribed and a half-drank bottle of water, slumping against the headboard, floating on the verge of passing out. It took some time to settle in, Lance diligently cataloguing every painful pang and uncomfortable pull of muscles that made him grit his teeth until he settled carefully on his side, facing the panoramic window. 

He hadn't forgotten, even in sleep, and when Lance opens his eyes, disturbed by a familiar noise of the door opening, something stirs at the back of his mind, a warning flashing before his bleary eyes. 

It was their thing. On media day, Lance found himself chatting away with Esteban when Fernando came up to both of them, discreetly palming Lance's ass, then dipping his fingers in his back pocket to fish out a keycard. Este only looked in horror and Lance barely contained a tiny laugh bubbling in his chest. Fernando's nonchalance as he waved the keycard playfully at him and shot a pointed took Esteban's way earned Lance a nasty smack on the shoulder and a frantic tirade half in French, half in English. 

That was Thursday. Lance ended up spread out on the bed, panting into the mattress helplessly, thighs shaking as Fernando took his fill and they fell asleep tangled with each other, sated. On Friday night, he went down to his knees, Fernando's eyes screwed shut and his back pressed against the door of his hotel room, fingers tangled in Lance's hair, the keycard he stole lying on the floor beside him. Two could play this game.

And tonight, they're not supposed to–

There's a muffled sound of footsteps and then the bed dips. Lance moves to roll onto his back, only to stop short as a hand wraps around his middle, strong and possessive. Fernando presses his body alongside his, sure and steady; warm but out of place. 

"Fernando?" Lance calls out, dumbly, in some sort of dizzy disbelief. 

He wasn't superstitious. It was Fernando's forte. Anyone else would have laughed it off but Lance listened to Fernando's reasoning the night after they raced in Spain, stealing two days out of the schedule to be away from their pressing obligations, media shitstorm and judgmental looks. Lance doesn't remember leaving the bed much but the sunset over Oviedo burned itself in his memory, along with every little quiver and moan Fernando wrenched out of him, sealing their lips together as the sun slipped below the horizon outside an open window. 

"Is bad luck," Fernando had said, propped up on one elbow, mouth curving in an easy grin that pulled a lazy smile out of Lance, almost automatically. "Better we always miss one day and meet after the race, no?"

Fernando kissed the corner of his mouth, gripping the back of Lance's neck, and he'd agreed to the terms, never the one to protest. It didn't matter to Lance much back then, setting a tray with their food aside in favor of pulling Fernando on top of him, chasing what neither of them should have ever had.

And yet.

A day before the race, they stay in their rooms; they don't fuck. No funny business. 

They had an agreement and it shouldn't be broken over Lance's own string of bad fucking luck or whatever karmic debt he acquired; over the hunger he knows resides deep in Fernando's soul. Over the one that flickers within Lance, a trivial thing before the real enormity of it swallowed him whole. 

Fernando's palm slips up and down his thigh, fingers passing over the hem of his sleep shorts and Lance's breath hitches. He's never said no, but he's not in the right condition for anything, let alone lying there and taking it. Usually Fernando rolls him onto his belly and Lance goes, pliant and willing and already breathless with anticipation. Now, his body freezes like he's about to crash again and his mind wanders.

Offhandedly, Lance tries to remember if Fernando had called or texted him but what would be the point of it now? He breathes in shakily, staying painfully still. 

"Hey, I don't–"

Fernando cuts him off.

"Shh," he whispers as if annoyed, softly kissing the nape of Lance's neck once, twice, then splaying his palm across the flat plane of Lance's stomach. "You sleep now. Tomorrow, we race."

It knocks Lance off balance, the way he entirely missed the mark. He feels Fernando burrow his face in his hair, breath tickling his sensitive skin. He holds Lance close, his grip unrelenting, borderline suffocating and something cracks open in Lance's chest, spills out and makes him shiver. The tension eases and he tentatively covers Fernando's hand on his body with his. 

Crawling out of the corner Lance backed himself into, he settles in the bewildered comfort. In his eyes, Fernando is two men at once — the one who who isn't scared of means to an end in order to win and the one who comes up with a different nickname to call Lance in private, making his heart flutter. 

And in the never-ending aftermath of his crash, in the face of those who always turn their back to Lance, the latter man claims his victory. Lulled by Fernando's steady heartbeat against his shoulder blades, Lance slips into fitful sleep, hope nestling deep in his ribcage. 

He wakes with a jolt. Feels like he's fallen into a pit, panicky and sticky with sweat, heart hammering away an uneven rhythm. A heavy weight of Fernando's hand is still slung across his back, a solid point of contact. Some semblance of relief lurches in his throat along with nausea. 

Lance knows something is wrong. He sluggishly gets his hands underneath himself, struggling to lift himself up, and falls back on the bed with a pathetic little noise. His alarm hasn't gone off yet. It's barely light outside. 

His limbs won't cooperate, no substantial strength in his muscles, his t-shirt sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Head pounding, Lance blinks rapidly, suddenly out of breath, like he just completed the race. What a fucking joke. He screws his eyes shut, his mind racing.  

A hand pushes on his shoulder to roll him onto his back in a sick reverse of what he's used to. When Lance blinks his eyes open again, Fernando's sleep-rumpled face swims into his vision. He can't read his expression right, just takes in the lines of worry on Fernando's forehead. He must look like hell.

Lance shakes his head against the pillow, the pinprick of tears in the corners of his eyes. Fernando's shoulders sag as he rasps:

"Is fine, Lance."

It's not. He's not fit to race, a hopeless case at this point. 

"I can't," Lance chokes against the unfamiliar lump in his throat. "Fer, I'm– I can't."

He hurts all over, pain erupting in different parts of his body and then flaring everywhere at once. Lance feels so fucking betrayed, restrained, pitiful. He remembers waking up from surgery, groggy and still half-broken but it feels worse now, feels baneful. Lance moves to swipe damp hair from his forehead, hand wavering, laden. 

Fernando takes him by the wrist, lifts his hand gentle enough and Lance allows to be manoeuvred, guided. Then; a kiss placed over the scar there, warm lips pressed to his clammy skin, grounding him. Lance lets an ugly sob free.

"Is fine," Fernando repeats, a hollow look in his eyes. His fingers tighten around Lance's wrist. "I race for us both this time."

He leaves, soon after; Lance stays behind. 

He almost wishes Fernando good luck, out of habit. Almost. Lately, Lance has been all out of it but he'd spare some for Fernando, unprompted. He promises Lance to wear one of his gloves for the race. For luck. Lance's face twist as do his insides. He's always been dismal at masking how he really feels. 

The last twenty laps Lance watches from the back of the Aston Martin garage, tucked safely away from the reporters. His body still feels sore, like a foreign entity that exists outside of him but it pales in comparison to the feeling of his stomach dropping as Fernando spins on the track and keeps losing and losing and losing. 

Perhaps, it's Lance's luck that does him in. Misplaced blame tastes acrid on his tongue. 

As the celebrations unfold, he seeks Fernando out from a distance. He catches him among the sea of mechanics, race suit undone halfway, the same hollowed look from this morning haunting his features. He stalks forward, past where Lance has glued himself to one of the chairs. He makes no move to follow. Fernando doesn't grace him with a mere gaze. In the background, fireworks erupt.

Back in his hotel room, suitcase laid on the floor in disarray, Lance distracts himself and puts his phones aside, itching to shoot a text or anything, really. Fernando has been radio silent since the end of the race, leaving the debrief earlier than usual. Lance isn't some dumb, love-sick teenager, he knows well enough that after today's debacle Fernando would need space. He waits with patience honed with years.

And waits.

And waits.

Then gives up, momentarily scorned. It's almost past midnight. He should have known better; Esteban would be right to laugh in his face. 

They had an agreement. 

It's unfair to the core since Fernando shattered it himself and the reason why was kept implicit, just beneath the surface. Too many ifs cross Lance's mind like someone opened the floodgates of his thoughts. If he was insignificant, Fernando wouldn't bother right from the very start but they're way past the point of no return. If Lance was wiser or older or not himself, he would not have cared at all and even now, he fucking shouldn't. If isn't good enough of an excuse to feel the skin on his wrist burn with a ghost of a kiss; to crave the safety of Fernando's embrace. To be the sole center of his undivided attention.

It's still Sunday night.

They had an agreement. 

Lance downs the last of the painkillers and drags himself under a thick blanket, the aircon cranked to the max and all the lights turned off. 

The door stays shut, the night passes by. His ache grows stronger and doesn't subside.

Morning greets Lance with a taste of defeat and the knowledge settling deep in his bones. He could race with his heart out on the track but could hardly wrestle a win against the clutches the race itself has sunk so utterly deep into Fernando.

Lance's luck leaves him no chances. After all, he was born to lose.

#vicsy writes #strollonso #i though 'how can i make this day better' and chose to make it worse #singapore was hella depressing for strollonso nation #essentially Nando is like we can't fuck before the race it's bad luck and better not see each other #but lance's crush made him go soft..... #anyway sorry for this half baked nonsense #alonstroll #fernando/lance #lance stroll #fernando alonso #strollonso fic #f1 fic #lancenando #lowkey haattee thiiiissssss #listen to Born to Lose by Des Rocs while reading this #can't believe I have to endure the horrors of both Nando and Lance suffering

[10jo10ge]

#TOP OF MANJI RACING TEAM OOOH MY GOD IM OBSESSED ITS LIKE THE AU IVE ALWAYS DREAMED OF LOL #mikeys manila hair is so fucking hard to draw though i swear #Tokyo Revengers #ryuuguji ken #sano manjiro

[rosiethedragongeek]

i'm so broken i opened tumblr and saw this and my mind immediately went 'ooh snotlout!!'

#the image of a bunch of potatoes stamped with snotlout's name in bold red letters is so fucking funny though #can somebody make that #snotlout snotlout oi oi oi #snotlout jorgenson #snotlout #how to train your dragon #riders of berk #defenders of berk #race to the edge #httyd #rob #dob #rtte #rosie's httyd brainrot

[y-rhywbeth2]

I've seen a few older players who really don't like Durge, and I expected to be one of them tbh. But their whole "living weapon" thing, the identity crisis of being artificial and having no connections outside of Bhaal, and being a reaction to/foil to Charname grew on me. I was going to play Durge regardless (I wanted to play a bloody Bhaalist before they took the cleric option out, and I certainly wasn't going to complain about playing a Bhaalspawn and being able to explore it differently to Charname's story - but I assumed I was going to have to headcanon in a different backstory). But I love my little edgelord dearly and won't trade him for the world.

I do tone down Durge's "uniqueness" though. From observation, they're not inherently different to other Bhaalspawn in any way that actually matters anyway, simply raised in unique circumstances compared to their siblings (carrying more divine essence and receiving Daddy's full attention and control now that there's nobody left to share these things with).

#I do pointedly ignore *default* Durge though. Sorry. #(I dislike defaults/“canon” versions for customisable characters) #He died because he was *weak*. Stab him again Orin. #I will also not have the Abeir/Toril split nor the 4e dragonborn in my own take on this goddamn setting #Nor 4e. At all #If you must exist on Toril at all you will work the way you worked in Races of the Dragon #Or immigrate through portals like everyone else! #Astarion you are getting 3.5e vampire spawn stats and you will fucking like it. Here's gaseous form! Here's eye-contact hypnotism! #Here's the ability to make your own vampire spawn! #Here's me waiting with a baseball bat to smack you when you get carried away start doing chaotic stupid things with your powers! #...what was I even talking about to begin with #griping #babbling

[espighty]

Vector please disconnect from the aux cord. Vector you are KILLING HIM.

It’s been a while since I’ve drawn sonic but I’m coming back swinging because I figured out a way to draw Vector in my style. Nothing can scare me anymore. I have seen hell. By the way, he has no headphones on because driving with headphones is Illegal. The Chaotix can’t afford a traffic ticket.

#vector and espio race for the aux cord like Sam and max race for the phone #go listen to the album though I’m so serious. put it on in the background while you draw or read or something. link is in the post. #it’s so fucking good dude. it’s like if you found a gospel music tape buried in your yard and decided to see if it still worked. #sth #team chaotix #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #ivy’s scribblings #chaotix content

[ven-of-the-valley]

When your favorite animal doesn’t have a dnd race and all the homebrews you can find aren’t quite right and cause you know way to much about the animal in question you make a scientifically accurate homebrew 👍

#it’s bats if you’re wondering #fucking love bats #they’re just silly little guys #I have so many facts that make good DnD traits #I even built them a culture and naming system #I’m very autistic about this #highly recommend though #it’s been really fun #I got to use the stuff I knew AND learn more stuff #which is always fun #dnd #dnd homebrew #dungeons and dragons #homebrew race #bats #my dnd

[puppyeared]

if you're walking at 5mph, but your feet are on sideways, and the sky turns green at 2:53, and Keanu Reeves has been sent to Neptune, what's your favorite video game

i cant walk 5mph in the first place, im only 5'4 and i have to walk like marvin the fucking martian everywhere i go

if my feet were on sideways i would still manage to get my shoes on wrong because i cant tell my left from my right

if the sky turns green that means every single car on the road is allowed to go at the same time

keanu reeves cant be sent to neptune with an expired passport

my favorite videogame MIGHT be professor layton and the diabolical box just because ive never been able to get over the ending, but mario galaxy and deltarune also come to mind

#this was very fun to answer thank u :o) ive always loved multiple choice questions #maybe if i had more multiple choice in my life id be able to get things done faster just closing my eyes and hoping for the best #its amazing that i dont own a magic eight ball. it would do wonders for my natural indecision and superstition #also to be fair ive only played the first two layton games even though i have the 3rd and 4th games on my cracked cartridge #BUT thats because my copy of unwound future is ass and it freezes on the opening cutscene so i cant even play it. sigh #maybe i should consider getting the mobile remastered versions but im lazy and i dont even know if i have enough storage space #there should be enough space on my ipad though so maybe. or ill back up some files to make room idk #i would have also answered undertale bc i had a huge undertale phase when it came out but im gonna be honest. ive never actually played it #im actually wondering if i should buy a copy for myself for xmas using grays steam account #the only thing im worried about is my motor skills are bad with keyboard and im dreading the asgore fight bc i heard its hard #but ive also never watched a full playthru so i feel like id be going into the game blind which sounds exciting. and ill prbably cry a lot #besides that ive been replaying mario galaxy with gray and i forgot how good the game is.. i love the ambience and game mechanics #although the races are so nerve wracking and i hate the controls sometimes. did u know i died on loopdeloop galaxy TWELVE FUCKING TIMES #also deltarune because i love EVERYTHING abt it i love the lore i love SUSIE i love the whole thing kris has going on #yapping #ask

[creaturefeaster]

If you were to electrocute a mime in host, would it forcibly eject them from the body? Mimes can't host a powered vessel, so I assume so.

Yes actually! It's one of the only ways to force a mime out of a host against their will. A small shock won't do it though, like in a static electric shock. It needs to course through the host fully in order to work.

#so magic users who know electric spells are your friend for eeking out undercover mimes #those who go beyond hosting and apply makeup or paint to appear like the living #or those who host races with pure white skin already #you cannot hide from an electric cast. #fuck you if you're alive though i guess. shock therapy for you. #brambleramble

[jankwritten]

yall wanna know how fucked up my anxiety is about some shit

i scroll past a post that's about a topic i don't like. whatever, it's fine. i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't care about. that's normal.

i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't like or care about but the person presenting it is a person of color? i IMMEDIATELY feel immensely guilty and need to "compensate" by "proving" it wasn't because of race by also skipping other random posts, JUST IN CASE someone thinks I'm racist because I didn't want to watch a video on a topic I didn't like or care about, that happened to be presented by a person of color.

this just in on: the police in my brain are loud and i'm scared of them

#this is also because i grew up in a racist area and in that culture and my own ignorance i also Was Kinda Racist #but like in that way where you don't realize it's racism until you're out of it and now feel so ashamed that you forcefully block all #those memories just so you don't ever have to associate yourself with them ever again? #(mind you I was like. 15-16 and closeted and scared scared scared all the time so I acted like the Crowd and that was awful of me to do) #BUT NOW that i've grown and am learning and have taken classes on anthropology and all kinds of stuff I just feel like I notice my own shit #like TENFOLD now #it's my anxiety overthinking thing plus if anybody ever knows I could have done anything SLIGHTLY problematic the world will explode #plus my constant paranoia that someone is always watching me and just Knows that I'm Secretly a Bad Person (even though I don't think I am? #also I feel like I need to clarify that the kind of racism in my town wasn't like. klan shit. it was like very hidden racism? #it was like. kids casually doing black accents and making jokes with racist undertones. the kind of racism where race was always #the butt of the joke instead of an outright HATED thing. and I think that's why it was so hard to unlearn #it's like that thing where in order to stop wanting to kill yourself you have to stop joking about wanting to kill yourself #this has become a vent post accidentally i'm so sorry #this is just. one of my Major anxieties that engulfs me every day because of 1) anxiety 2) potential OCD 3) being a bad person in my past #this is another reason I fucking hate florida #because I just know if I had grown up in my home town in MI I would not have been raised in that environment #and it's my own fucking fault for falling into the crowd like that. #all this to say i traumatized myself and likely some people around me by being A Fucking Idiot when I was a kid #and now adult me is doing everything in their power to not ever be that person ever fucking again #tw vent post #tw racism #tw past racism #but im better now and I know my mistakes and I refuse to make them again #fuck florida for every fucking reason under the sun

[alethiaii]

You know you did an absolute dumb dumb and failed to apologize for it when Danny Ric says 'Fuck that guy, honestly' which is I believe the most abrasive thing he's said in an interview.

#formula 1 #formula one #chinese gp 2024 #honest to God though how are you not watching people in front of you in the safety car procedure??? #stroll had only two modes: decent driver and dumb as fuck moments that put mostly him but sometimes others out of the race as well #unfortunately the second mode is pften more engaged than thr first one

[cobraonthecob]

i really do think f1 should start implementing reverse grids for sprint races. bring in the chaos. have max actually show off how good the rb20 is. i want yuki on pole. fans want to see overtakes in f1 again. make the grid fight. they say max is good...okay, i want to see him win from p10 without causing carnage in however many laps sprint races are.

#nightfalcon posts #formula 1 #f1 #sprint race #sprint races aren't fun until i see max having to actually work for his position instead of fucking off 20 seconds ahead #the rb20 is allegedly good #can the rb20 overtake 50 million cars though?

[dolokhoded]

judas iscariot apologism isn't "he did nothing wrong", it's "you shouldn't blame him for the betrayal he couldn't help that, blame him for being fucking difficult" there was truly something wrong with him lol

#judas iscariot #it's mental illness innit #affectionate. they were ALL fucking difficult they were TWELVE MEN #who were constantly around each other. they're annoying. #that's their charm though. #i mean look at john. john 'i bet judas was stealing from us cause like. fuck him'. john 'i won the race peter was second i win he lost'. #im not religious just insane.jpg

[clownsuu]

I'm going to be honest, its nice seeing your character designs and your version of humanized characters. No many people (from what I've seen) make characters mixed race and just coming on her is helping me with some sever internalize racism, considering I'm half Asian and mix of Caucasian and Indigenous. Just thank you, you and your art really are helping me dude

For the past few years, iv been gettin pretty tired of seeing just strictly white characters from everywhere- and although it’s completely fine to have em, I always feel I need to give mine some extra ✨spice✨, specially since there is so many body types to choose from, why limit to just one?

#Like big noses??? #I fucking love big noses Dj kinda solidified my love for em smh #Specially since I have a weird arch on my nose for a while I hated and felt unnatural #But then iv soon realized “hey- having a arch is completely normal! My family was just being ASSHOLES-“ #But yeah when I create characters I always casually think about what race they would be #Cause some just feel weird being a white template #Specially Octavio #Personally I see him so much different than what a lot of people draw him as #Doesn’t make me any better though- it’s just personal taste KDJFHFHDJJ #Will say tho the latest characters iv made that are mostly white is Sigma Omega and Phi-? #Tho Sigma is Italian- and Omega gives me french vibes #Phi is just your usual Florida man JDHHCHD

[guruguruguruguru]

the longer i sit with it the more it really gets me how nobody ever really mentions obito and rin before obito's reveal in shippuden. kakashi vaguely mentions his old friends and i think other characters allude to the tragedy of kakashi's past but rin and obito themselves are lost to time. something about that is so fucking haunting and so gutting. you would think it would be a pretty big deal that two kids from the same class died within a year of each other, but the nine tails attack probably wiped so much clean that nobody could really carry the grief... still, when we see their class in flashbacks, we recognise almost everyone else, so... there's something really sad and hopeless about their absence...

there's a lot a LOT to say about it from a lot of different angles and i don't really feel like going into meta posting territory i just have big feelings about it you know? and to me i guess obito encapsulates a lot of the anger. for the people who get left behind and forgotten. and that can mean a lot of things

#two of my classmates died on separate occassions in short span of time in high school and i wont claim that grief because #i didnt know either of them well but i did feel a lot of anger and overwhelming hopelessness. that life keeps relentlessly going on #even when people get left behind #it feels so unfair and so painful... there are so many more aspects to it though as well #like people who are left behind in other ways due to circumstance or class or race or etc etc- often a combination of those factors #and obito as a kid reminds me a lot of a good friend i had when i was little who was late to class every day #because of those outside circumstances #and again someone in high school who i was late WITH every day. because ya #and i feel very big about that. and about rins death as something so fucking preventable #the tragedy also of baby teacher minato who was so so not ready to be in charge of anyone. but. that's something else #anyway i guess i just really feel a connection with that anger and despair #sorru was watching niji and felt fucking insane about it #obito and rin are like two sides of one thing. maybe of one person. of one concept #part of why i'm so so crazy about obito being trans is because i see him as also using rin's memory as a conduit for #his anger and grief about his own lost younger self. hence: baby obito is also a little girl #i think they are best friends. its so important. idk none of this is wider narrative meta #its just my feelings about them in particular #haunting dead girl and the ghost who has to carry on and can't rest