one thing the human emotional range is lacking is the predator animal ability to stare at people while holding the limp, bloody corpse of your prey in your mouth
so you dated the wrong person and learned a hard lesson. you chose the wrong major and had to start over again. you cherished a friend who backstabbed you. it sucks, but it’s also going to work out. that’s life; you learn, hurt, love, cry, laugh, and keep going. you experience setbacks and you grow and it’s all okay.
When I say “free water, free food, free shelter, free healthcare, free education for everyone” in that “everyone” I even include the people I hate. Too many people get surprised at the idea that I do wish for the people I hate to have better lives.
When I say EVERYONE, I mean EVERYONE. These are things ALL people should have. If you reblog this saying “except THIS group” then you’ve missed the point entirely.
Don’t know about OP, but when I say it, this is not selflessness! It’s not selflessness at all. There are still people I would prefer get fucked over! There are really awful shitty people in the world!
But I understand that the tables always turn. ALWAYS. There is no final glorious revolution where The Right People will be in charge forever. The only way to ensure the boot will never be on your neck again is to throw away the fucking boot. Set the table so you eat well no matter which way it turns!
ALL OF THIS.
Leave no one behind. We all deserve food, clean water, clean air, healthcare, housing, electricity, internet, and so forth. No matter who you are, you deserve to be able to access and have what you need to survive.
So yes, yes, yes to “throw away the fucking boot.”
Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader (future)
Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance
Warnings : Morally grey! Reader
Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious.
<Prelude Next>
Mercedes Amg Petronas F1 team: Race Engineer, a title that you will forever embellish in your CV proudly. How many can say that their name will forever be attached to the glory and dominance of silver, black, and blue? The name Y/N L/N will forever be remembered in and out of the paddock as the voice that led a Mercedes driver to his heroic reign of victory.
But the journey to the top was not rainbows and sunshine, No. Moral compasses and integrities were bent more than once. No one understood how you’ve much you’ve bled to reach the top. Each cut deeper than the rest. Not one person knew except for one, He understood because he bled much worse. Lewis Hamilton.
Lewis was your life. In and off track , you cannot deny it and you prefer it that way. You were attracted to him, how can you not? His passion for greatness, his drive toward power, and the way he always gets what he wants.
However, no matter how much you wanted Lewis. You were bound to Mercedes’ regulations — with the no driver relationships clause in Red Bold Capital Letters, staring back at you. That and that he was already in a long-term relationship. And with that, you buried your feelings where no one would know. At least that was the plan.
But Lewis being Lewis, never made it easy for anyone and you were on the top of his list. It was all innocent at first but it quickly evolved as your time together lengthened.
Complicated was shy of describing what your relationship with the English driver was. It started with light teasing on onboard radio calls for all of the worlds to hear lingering touches in the garage when toto was not looking and the incredulously expensive gifts given without reason — tagged and penned in Lewis’ penmanship that wrote “ for MY race engineer for being a good girl and doing a good job”
But all hell broke loose on the night Lewis won his first Championship with Mercedes.
The chequered flag was waved and Lewis had been the first to cross the line and deafening cheers erupted all over the Mercedes Garage. The smile on you was gigantic and a breath of relief left your lungs, while your co-engineers shook your shoulders back and forth as they shouted at each other.
“Lewis Hamilton, You are the World Champion!!” You exclaimed in your mic to congratulate your driver.
Lewis’ melodic laugh filled your ears and the next words you heard stopped your earth from spinning
“Y/N L/N, I fucking love you! I can't…” Lewis was not done talking, but you cannot process anything else. He said he loved you. Did he mean it? Or was it just a figure of speech?
Lewis didn’t mean it that way, right? You were mistaken. Yeah… you were. I mean, he was in a relationship, he had Nicole.
Clearing your throat, acting as if nothing happened. You once again radioed
“Congrats, Champ! Get in there” And with that, you removed your headphones and started to proceed toward the nearest restroom to compose yourself. But the world had other plans.
Still dazed you were almost near the exit when the voice of your boss stopped you in your tracks.
“Y/N? Where are you going? You need to be at the podium and get the constructor’s cup” Toto said as he went near you. Not allowing you to oppose as he gently held your shoulders and maneuvered you toward the podium.
And just like that you were led towards where Lewis, Felipe and Valterri were behind the podium as they waited to be called out. As you neared, your eye naturally drifted towards Lewis and a smile uncontrollably spread on your face.
Not until Lewis charged towards you lifting you off your feet and twirling you around. Your initial shock turned to giggles as you patted Lewis’s shoulders signaling him to stop and to put you down.
He heads your plea and finally puts you down but not long after pulling you in a tight hug that brought butterflies to your stomach. His hand placement was a little too much for friends and way too much for colleagues. Lewis pulls back a little and gazes at your face with a soft smile.
“My little engineer, I’m so glad you’re mine” He muttered as He once again hugged you, placing his head on the crook of your neck. Another wave of confusion and questions filled your head. You were about to question Lewis on what he meant by that, but you were cut by the announcer calling Lewis towards the podium.
You were left alone to your thoughts, but once again you were not granted peace when you felt a soft nudge and an instruction for you to go to the podium and claim the constructor’s trophy.
the playing of the British and German anthems ensued to commemorate your Team as the winners of the race, but honestly, your mind was still muddled however you tried not to show it on your face. And at the last note of the German national anthem, like clockwork chaos filled the podium as non-alcoholic champagne was spraying everywhere. Joining in on the tradition, you took your bottle and sprayed everything and everyone in sight.
Thankfully it was nonalcoholic, it being Abu Dhabi, because if it were true alcohol you were sure that you were drunk. Because, a grinning Lewis Hamilton went near you once more but this time he nears his lips towards you, pecking your cheek on live television, where his girlfriend was just below the podium watching.
A small gasp leaves your mouth and your eyes widen. However realizing that literally thousands of people are watching, you try to play it cool as if it were an action between normal friends — by nudging Lewis aside and rolling your eyes, you then lift the bottle towards yourself and drink from the spout. Oh, how you wished it were alcoholic.
After the podium fiasco and saying goodbye to the team, you immediately went back to your hotel room. Pushing yourself towards the bathroom with your Pjs; a set of shorts and a tank top at hand — you washed off today’s sweat and thoughts. And led yourself to bed.
A celebratory party is sure to happen in Lewis’ honor, which means drinks, loud music, people, and Lewis … Lewis's girlfriend. You will not let yourself experience, no not today.
Groaning into your pillow, The series of questionable actions Lewis’ had done today had all come to your mind. Why must you cling to them? They for sure meant nothing to the British Champion. Right? You dug yourself deeper into the rabbit hole of your mind and without knowing you passed out from exhaustion.
And finally, you’ve found peace in slumber. But luck was never on your side, as your sleep was disrupted by unrelenting knocks on your door. Groggy, you slowly stood up and went towards the door, not even bothering to look at the peephole — you opened the door.
“Lewis?” You didn’t believe your eyes, so you rubbed them and lo and behold, it was the Lewis Hamilton in front of you.
“You weren’t at the celebration. you’re my engineer, why weren’t you there“ His voice held coldness and authority. Lewis wasn’t asking for answers, he was demanding them.
Your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to form sentences. So you just looked up at him.
Lewis’ jaw clenched at your lack of answers.
“Well? Aren’t you going to answer little engineer?”
“I wasn’t up for it? “ You tried to excuse. But you wish you didn’t as you saw the change in his expression. Fuck, Lewis was now angry.
He then grabbed your wrist and pulled you and himself into your room. As he closed the door, he pressed your back against it and caged you in between his arms.
“you weren’t up for it?” Lewis reiterated your words menacingly bringing shivers up your spine.
“Tell me, Y/N L/N. Why was my little engineer not celebrating my championship with me huh?” As Lewis spoke, his eyes lingered on your lips then came back up to look at you in the eye.
Not being able to answer or handle his glare, you tried to move your face to the side — only to be stopped by Lewis's finger on your chin. Leading your eyes back to him
“Nu-uh, Y/N. Eyes on me and answer my question. “
“I- i. Uhm” you stuttered as another chill went up your spine as Lewis’ hand now caressed your jaw.
“Speak Y/N” Lewis pressed, now a smirk presented itself on his lips. Your eyes naturally fell towards it At the sight of the smirk that haunted your dreams , you couldn’t help but bite your lip.
Being so concentrated on looking at Lewis’ lips you didn’t see that he too was looking at yours. His eyes darkened at the sight of you chewing at your lips, the habit you’ve done when you wanted something.
Letting go of all pretenses, Lewis drops down and kisses you with his pent-up emotions and tension that brewed between the two of you.
You gasped in surprise, and Lewis took advantage of this and pushed his tongue into yours. He then took your lower lip into his and softly bit it and soothed it by sucking, earning a whimper from you. Your hands slithered up his muscular chest towards his hair. A groan left his lips when you gently pulled at his nape.
At the sound of Lewis’ moans. It was as if you were drenched in ice-cold water. You were kissing Lewis Hamilton. IN A RELATIONSHIP, Lewis Hamilton.
No this was not right. No matter how good and right it felt. He was not yours.
You started to pull away, but Lewis only strengthened his grip on you. Trying once again to connect his lips to yours.
“Lew- I. We can't do this” You tried to push Him away. Yet, Lewis only caught your hand which was trying to create distance between the two of you.
“What, why?”
“Our contract says that we can't have a real-“ you tried to reason
“I don’t care about the contract! I’ll make them change it , I promise.” Lewis tried to calm you
“No, but Lewis we still can’t do this . This is not fair”
“Y/N, If it’s not already obvious, I like you. Fucking I might even lo-“ As Lewis started to explain. You’ve had enough— you will not be a third party.
“ LEWIS YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! “ at your outburst, Lewis was stunned
“I will not be the other woman, Lewis. I will not let myself be degraded to that level… I will not exchange my dignity for you— no matter how much I love you. “ You couldn’t handle it anymore, your tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“Baby Shh. Y/N Listen to me. Nicole and I broke up. I ended it earlier. “ Lewis tried to explain.
You just ruined a long-term relationship. The horror suddenly seeped into your brain.
“Fuck, no, it was not your fault Y/N. We’ve been having problems for a while and it was time to let go. You understand? “
You absently nodded, but you knew that you were a major part of their split … and you knew one day that this would come back at you one way or another.
But for now, you will enjoy your success in getting to call Lewis Hamilton yours. You were on the top of the world. Nothing can dampen your high, or so you thought.
2015
“Hey Y/N, did you hear? Red Bull is putting a kid on the track” Bonno, Lewis’ other engineer said. You were at Silverstone, testing several changes done with the car.
“Really? What’s his name?” You asked back
“Max Verstappen”
taglist : @vicurious28
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This is something that I need to tell myself every time I try to talk myself out of something awesome. I should be posting some fun this week sometime. I have some available time. Yay!!!
IF FAN THEORIES ARE RIGHT IT IS A SIGN YOU HAVE TOLD A WELL-PUT TOGETHER AND FOLLOWABLE PLOT, NOT A SIGN YOU NEED TO MAKE UP SOME BULLSHIT FOR A TWIST ENDING.
FUCK OFF WITH THIS SHIT.
If the fans get where you are going and ARE STILL HAPPY, you KEEP GOING THERE. It shows they’re invested and your story craft is setting up and paying off properly.
It is not a sign you need to M Night Shamaylan things until narrative is fuckin dead and “surprise endings!” reign supreme. If no one can guess what will happen, you don’t have a plot, you have deus ex machinas strung together like a child’s macaroni necklace. It might be endearing and beloved but its hardly a fuckin masterpiece.
To be utterly frank, this is where “NO SPOILERS! NO SPOILERS EVER! NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BREATHE ABOUT THE PLOT UNTIL IT’S BEEN OUT ON DVD FOR FIVE YEARS” attitude has left us – And the studios ACTIVELY encourage that shit because first week viewing numbers are their whole lifeblood.
Sure, an “oh shit” moment is great, but if you’re doing it well, I should have that moment watching the show the second, fifth, or hundredth time, knowing how it will go. If being surprised were truly so important to a narrative, why even make a Shakespeare play? Is anyone out there still hoping Romeo and Juliet still get together at the end? Why make mystery novels into movies? Spoiler warning: Hercules Poirot gets the bad guy. Movies that directly follow historical events? Clearly worthless.
Come on, now. Sure, try not to spoil shit for people intentionally, don’t be a dick, but can we calm the fuck down and can Hollywood stop pushing this shit both in social media and with business choices like this?
If no one can guess what will happen, you don’t have a plot, you have deus ex machinas strung together like a child’s macaroni necklace. It might be endearing and beloved but its hardly a fuckin masterpiece.
random insane lestappen moments that i sometimes remember and question what the hell is going on
when charles slightly choked on his drink bc he was too busy looking at max
when charles hung out with max's family and his cousin because "he was a big fan"
when charles had max's f1 points on his phone background
max's padel teammate implying they won during their joint padel game but charles commented on ig to make sure everyone knows he won and not max
max's race engineer referencing to charles by his first name
max calling charles charlie in a room full of people
when charles had to show the tifosi to not boo max in monza
when charles and max got so busy talking to each other in one interview to the point the press gave up on interviewing them altogether
when max crashed in silverstone and charles said "the biggest win today is that max is okay"
when max messed up charles' free practice lap in brazil and charles changed his radio statement because he found out it was max and not checo and just said "it's not great what he did:/"
lance's epic thirdwheel session
when charles gave an interview about their karting days and started referencing to it as "when max and i were together" but on paper it didn't sound great so the interview had to specify "when max and i were together [in karting]" throughout the entire interview
charles' unexplainable need to wink at max after every race
So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?
“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”
And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.
Saying "I'm not going to draw this thing because I don't know how to draw this thing" is really shooting yourself in the foot, because you've now cut yourself off from an opportunity to grow.
I had a friend in college who was an absolutely amazing artist. I loved seeing his work! One time I said something to the effect of "I could never do that."
He told me something that, as an artist, I resonate with. He said art isn't about natural talent; it's a learned skill. When you tell an artist their level of skill is impossible for you to reach, you're assuming their level of skill is a natural gifting they have, and it discredits the hundreds to thousands of hours of hard work they've put into getting where they are today, and you're cutting yourself off from trying to reach that point yourself.
Someone renominates “babygirl” for word of the year, saying that they have spent the past year trying to figure out if people are “little meow meows, blorbos, or babygirls”. This is in front of a room of hundreds of people.
Someone renominates “babygirl” for word of the year, saying that they have spent the past year trying to figure out if people are “little meow meows, blorbos, or babygirls”. This is in front of a room of hundreds of people.
One time I ate probably way too many mushrooms and I could feel my trip going bad. So, I turned to my roommate and I said something along the lines of,
"I feel amazing but I feel like this sensation has a price and I'm about to pay it."
To which he responded, "What are you, catholic?" And that knocked me so firmly out of my mental state that the rest of the trip was hands down the best time I ever did mushrooms.
turnnoffyourmind
gracieabrams
gamechangershow
stormborns
gummygunk
theartofmadeline
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
