#kleed

[martian-invasion]

Jules ● 26 ● you will address me as «your eminence»

F1 RPF ● SebMark 🦘🐇🛸

Welcome Kleed nation.

Ao3 thefallengondolin ● Tiktok jules.b.a

I share some fics, snippets and concepts/wips with #my fics

[kumihogames]

kumihogames | icons cats vs. dogs (april fools)

do not repost my work anywhere. like or reblog if you save it. psd forgtful by @miniepsds.

[jeroenapers]

Gezien op de BIG ART in de Bijlmerbajes: De serie FOLDS van Celia Hadeler bevat een trompe-l'oeil in een wand- of vloerkleed, geïnspireerd op de gedrapeerde kleden in de schilderijen van de oude meesters uit de Gouden eeuw.

[martian-invasion]

The thing about the fic, the stuff thats getting to me, what truly is wrong with me is that it isn't about either of them being bad or losers, it's not about Scott having been lapped the previous race and being upset while Christian is trying to wrangle with being fused to the back of the grid. It is, it also isn't.

The fic is irreparably infused with the fact that in a matter of mere months both of them will be out of a job, Christian just two races later and abandoned by Red Bull because instead of swapping categories with them he chose to stick around F1 if he could, and Scott the next year because his team was looking for the chance to boot him and he, stupid, gave it to them.

But right there, between Germany and Hungary, they don't know it.

They're not losing dogs to bet on, no bets are being taken.

There is not even a race.

[martian-invasion]

A Kleed snippet. Subject to changes and editing before posting to AO3 as a longer fic later.

Austria, beginning of August 2006.

There's moonlight coming through the window, falling across the foot of the bed, barely graces the edge of the sheets. Everything else is ashy and dim.

They lie on their backs. Close enough that Christian is aware of Scott’s warmth without touching it. Close enough that it feels deliberate.

Only one room they said. Only one bed.

It was this or sleeping in the car. So here they were.

He shifts slightly. He can hear Scott’s breath change pitch for a moment.

“Do you see yourself as world champion?” His voice feels dampened by how small the room is, how crowded of stuff it is.

Scott doesn’t answer right away. His chest rises and falls slowly, controlled.

He stares at the ceiling like it might say something useful.

“If you don’t see yourself as champion,” he says finally, voice low, as if someone could hear him through the walls, “why be in Formula One at all?”

Christian turns his head.

“I’m not an interviewer.”

Scott exhales through his nose. Then he turns too, just enough. His face is half lit now, eyes steady, unblinking.

“That’s not a PR response.”

The silence that follows is heavier than the question. It presses between them. Into the mattres. Into Christian’s ribs.

Christian considers lying. He’s very good at it, not the flashy kind, just the quiet omission. The kind that lets everyone assume what they want.

Instead, he says, “I see myself finishing races.”

Scott’s mouth twitches. Not a smile.

“That wasn’t the question.”

“No,” Christian agrees. “It wasn’t.”

They hold each other’s gaze. There’s something charged between them. Something too thick to breathe through properly

Scott rolls onto his side, arm right under his head, closer now. Too close to pretend neutrality.

“You ever think,” he says, softer, “that maybe wanting it too much is the problem?”

Christian doesn’t answer.

[martian-invasion]

scott speed mention i am summoned

I don't post about him a lot but I am on an agenda to peddle #kleed because no one has ever heard of this before

[martian-invasion]

"Kleed nation"

It's just kleed town and the population is 1

[martian-invasion]

Tried to make a kleed playlist and i just made something really depressing