Nico became world champion and then two years later he died. His kidney collapsed went one rumor Daniel had heard. The machine parts of him failed, or the human parts did. The two sides stopped talking, and it killed him.
Apparently Mercedes had tried to reclaim their equipment after, but the Rosbergs roundly denied them, dragged it up to the press and gave them hell. Well, no team made that mistake again. The next year Daniel’s contract was quietly amended with a line about “minimizing material losses”. His funeral, when it came, would be closed casket.
Lewis didn’t attend Nico’s service, which Daniel knew for a fact, because there had been a Grand Prix scheduled for the same day. He’d placed P6, not a great showing for him. He was different, after. He and Nico had always been their own system, two binary stars, and it was like lacking his gravity Lewis grew ever more distant, flew higher and further. He emitted a hard light and was difficult to look directly at. But sometimes you would catch a crack, glancing up at you if you walked suddenly into a room where he was sitting. The expression in his eyes then tore at Daniel. Like he was wandering around with flowers, still searching for the funeral home door.
Hi!
I hope it doesn't look too weird (God, it always looks too weird), but your latest work on my OTP hasn't been out of my head for too long.
Actually, I was planning this back when I left the first comment, but AO3 is not very conducive to such things. I really like to visualize texts in collages, so I've been wanting to do something in honor of one of your works for a long time.
It's far from the most talented, and it's quite simple, but I wanted to share it.
If you like it, I would like to make another series for some of your works.
And yes, I want to say once again that each of your texts plays on those strings of the soul that I did not even know about, and I admire your talent to speak like this, think like this, and put thoughts into words that convey not only meaning, but also all the semitones that are possible in life.
oh my god oh my god oh my god! hello to you and your shoe icon, thank you for your comments on ao3 and here <3
this is so fucking cool wtf??? ok i immediately opened both these images in a new browser tab and then spent like 10 minutes zooming in on all the details. first one = matt and second one mello yes?? god the undelivered text messages are so matt and remind me of this little drabble i wrote about exactly that.. you + me = aligned vision 🤝. the time-lapsed road image also reminds me of mello looking at videos of fireworks in the last scene of headfirst. and ugh the chainlink fence in mello's </3 so curious what's the red image on the top-left of his? also those are the fanciest pill capsules (?) that i've ever seen haha - literal designer drugs (which mello would definitely take)!!
"like to make another series" dude that would fucking rock. and i have a question for you which is if i can figure out how to embed it nicely, could i maybe add these images to headfirst? and if so, how can i credit you best??
wow this is so cool. i can tell i'm going to keep opening my phone to look at these today. you made my day :)
[kicking down the door of your askbox 12 days late] IS THE WIP WORD GAME STILL OPEN. HOW CLOSE TO CLOSING IS THE WIP WORD GAME I PROMISE I'M JUST GETTING ONE THING NO I'M LYING SORRY THREE THINGS. I CAN PAY WITH CARD. YOU CAN KEEP CLOSING THE TILL!!!
everything you've posted about knock off cyberpunk!!?! the art is so lovely &i am excavating every word of your tags for lore like 🔬👀... then please omg anything you're willing to offer up about threesome 😵😵💫💫... and i would love to know about your disco fic, it has such a good name 💛
[from the window of this wip game tapping the OPEN sign with one hand and waving come-here frantically at you with the other] hii!! first of all F1 nation go read non-cash items immediately second of all let's talk :)
threesome.. okay in my mind the most important thing is that daniel is so so so mad like jaw muscles visibly clenched while he grins "i'm having an awesome time!!" through his teeth. like he is here to win at sex. meanwhile max is busy googling "is it bad boner lasts 6 hours" and kelly is like "my husband's goddamn taste 🙄 daniel's personality 😔🥀 but then again his looks... 👀🤔" max: here to come kelly: here to watch max come prematurely daniel: defending his life at the gladiator ring (there is no one else in the ring...). i am always drawn towards writing the underdog and daniel is unfortunately in this and many cases the most losing of losing hounds....
i'm so sorry i'm too tiredd to write this for you rn but one scene i had in mind was after daniel gets to the yacht they go into the bedroom to commence and there's like, the bed and one big chair in the corner, and max and daniel immediately crack up. kelly's like ??. and the boys start trying to explain, "it's like, you know, the cuck chair, like from the cuck porn, oh cuck porn is-" and it's completely unfunny the way it is when you have to explain a joke, and like, also, because it makes them look like porn-brained losers who've been jerking it since age 12 (guilty and guilty). and kelly meantime is standing there subjected to their violent giggling. she knows what cuck porn is. she just didn't think that was what they were laughing about. because a chair isn't worth laughing until you turn red (<- max).. these fucking children
and she very politely lets them giggle themselves out and then turns the chair to face the wall and says "sweetie you can sit there", and pulls daniel's shirt off, and says, "let's fuck."
and scene :) omg disco elysium!! it's been so long since i wrote for something.. good (this is a crack at formula 1 lol). this is going to get a bit serious so turn away if you're not in the mood, but i basically wanted to write a fic about one week in jean vicquemare's life where he takes leave from the RCM with the intention to kill himself at the end. i said "a bit serious" but i actually intend this to be a comedy. i don't mean to be insensitive, but there is something inherently very funny about fits of violent depression once you're through them. it's like WDYM i ate room-temp shredded cheese out of a bag for a week? WDYM i considered peeing the bed so i didn't have to get up??? what is this hamster-like existence????? just like alexander's no good day, the like, comedic badness of just every fucking thing going wrong at once. this is another one i actually started writing and got stuck on. so on the back burner it goes... (my kitchen = entirely back burners. zero fronts)
wow i sure ranted on... anyway!! it was so fun talking. and while i was linking to non-cash items above i noticed you published something else which i will now exit tumblr to read :))) goodbye world, see you on ao3
if the offer still stands, I've got to round out the category and ask about Knock Off Cyberpunk!
yess anon the offer is of course still open! (from this wip game)
okay not to sound like a teacher assigning homework, but knock off cyberpunk is one i've yapped about a lot already. so i'll refer you to these posts and their tags (esp part 1):
part 1: max
part 2: daniel
part 3: lando
part 4: oscar
yeah so daniel pov (self-evident) / maxiel endgame (self-evident) / not getting written anytime soon (self-evident if you know me 👎👎). aand because i feel bad just pointing to old material, here's a few paragraphs just for you :)
“Don’t tell me they didn’t, like, provide a few relevant memories in the old brainpan upload.” Embarrassed, Daniel finished stuffing himself back into his jeans. The zrap of the zipper rang out like a thunderbolt clapping to earth. Max’s gaze seemed stuck around his waistline, like a piece of hair caught in the fly, and he resisted the urge to snap his fingers at him. “It’s part of human nature, Maxy.”
Finally his gaze rose and pushed into Daniel’s: “Obviously I know what masturbation is.”
“Oh, so you’ve—?”
Max rolled his eyes. “No,” he said.
“Oh.” A sad possibility struck Daniel: “Does it, um, not work? Your cock?”
Of all the reactions Daniel thought he’d get, Max’s after he’d spoken was not one of them, which was that he flushed bright red, just like a person, and then got highly defensive. His shoulders practically hung off his earlobes, as he snapped, “It works but I don’t touch it. I don’t have to. It doesn’t matter. If I get—then one of the mechanics, usually.”
What? thought Daniel. “Who?” he said.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I said this already that I don’t know,” Max repeated, stubborn. His arms were crossed high across his chest. “They don’t let me look. Someone does it and it's quick.”
What, like they turn off your eyeballs while they jerk you off? And then the horrible thought that it might be true, prevented Daniel from following through with his quip. They could really do whatever they wanted to Max. They could do whatever they wanted to Daniel too but of course it wasn’t the same, not at fucking all. I didn’t know it hurts for everyone, he’d said last week, when Daniel helped him stretch out his leg cramp. I thought maybe—because the team was mad at me.
Maybe they blindfolded him. Maybe they told him not to look. But then Max, thought Daniel, would have peeked. He wasn’t as compliant as Red Bull had built him to be.
“Max,” he said.
“Don’t call me like that.”
"It's your name."
Max bit his own lip, when Daniel reached up to put his hand over his eyes. The bold stroke of his nose ran upwards into Daniel’s palm, and at the other end, his thick wide mouth. Why had they given him a mouth like that? What was the point of a lip so tender? You didn’t race with your lips. Not that kind of race, and Max was built for only one type.
Max’s mouth tensed with the bite and then relaxed. Daniel watched his tongue dart out and then retreat back, shy again.
Then Oscar walked in to complain that Lando was late to something or other. He ignored Daniel completely, so Daniel decided to say something cunty to him.
He looked at Piastri’s white chest and thought about making a comment about snowblindness, but he didn’t know him that well and worried it would come off mean-mean rather than fun and flirtily, mean.
Instead he raised an eyebrow and glanced meaningfully between him and Lando’s bared torsos until he’d made a point. “What were you two up to?” he said.
This meaningless and not very clever comment, went off like a nuke in the cramped briefing room. Piastri froze over like a pond, only his blotches creeping pinkly about, while Lando squeaked, “Haha”, but, like, not like he was laughing. Just repeating the Ha noise twice in a row.
Okay. Fucking weird. “Alrighty then,” said Daniel, and retreated to where Max was getting powered up via his butthole or whatever.
(from this wip game) max/kelly/daniel. yacht. cuckolding fetish :)
It turned out twelve ignominious years of earnings in Formula 1 still didn’t pay well enough to get you out of arranging your own threesome.
Obviously, even one single season in Formula 1 could purchase many threesomes with many parties of individuals. But since the other individuals were, in Daniel’s case, Max, Kelly—their millions and millions and millions came to nothing.
Max started a group thread on WhatsApp but Kelly said WhatsApp wasn’t secure so they got on Telegram instead. And then it turned out even on Telegram she and Max had made their accounts using pseudonyms, whereas Daniel just named himself Daniel, so that he was made to feel like a fucking bozo talking with “Catherine” and “James”.
For a trio where two of the people were, let’s face it, basically unemployed, their schedules were proving impossible to align. Kelly did something clever where she overlayed their calendars but the results looked like the Rosetta Stone. Discouraging. The chat jerked on in fits and starts like an engine on its last legs. Either Max was slow to respond, or Daniel was.
Finally, Kelly had had enough. She suggested sweetly they do a “Zoom call”, and then him and Max went Noo Noo, and Kelly canceled something and Daniel canceled something and Max dug a hole in his schedule like a badger digging in the garden for voles.
Daniel stood on a dock on the harbour, and a little boat came and took him to Max’s big boat, out in the sea.
asking for the WIP game! i know you posted about the romeo and juliet WIP not too long ago (which sounds absolutely delicious), so could you tell us more about 'the true ending' idea...? :)
(from this wip game) hi hi yes!! so basically.. secretly (aka in my head) the A Normal Year series has always been a trilogy :)
i really cannot emphasize how much i don't think i'm ever going to write this. so if that's frustrating to you i understand and please stop reading now lol. but the idea for the 3rd part is:
20ish years after light dies, everyone he killed comes back to life (always imagined this happening by them walking out of the ocean onto the beach)
this process takes place gradually over a few years and near the end matt also is brought back to life (maybe the victims emerge in reverse order of when they were killed?)
in the intervening time mello has remarried the man from the london chapter of I Die And Leave You Alone and has stayed married for most of those 20 years
matt goes to visit L, who was reanimated a year or so earlier than him. L is severely depressed (bc his murder soulmate is dead) and warns him against seeking out mello
matt goes: okay noted! and promptly shows up at mello and his husband's house a few weeks before mello's 50th birthday
matt is still 28 (age when he was killed by light)
janainaart
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
dededos
