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Do you know how your parents met?

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i have many questions

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Who's more likely to overpack for a race weekend?

Who's more likely to forget their passport while traveling for a race?

HUSBANDS. I REST MY CASE.

timestamps 0:57-1:07

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Arches National Park, Utah photo: Elliot McGucken

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thank god for autocorrect, because sometimes i just hit letters and hope that the computer knows what I mean

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sports commentators will say things not even God can conceive of

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Sunrise behind Gasherbrum IV in Karakorum Mountains, Pakistan

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lia block & aurelia nobels| f1: the academy ep. 5

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Oscar Piastri (Spanish GP - May 29, 2025) 📷 Mark Sutton

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Carlos Sainz (Cannes Film Festival - May 13, 2025) 📷 Jacopo Raule

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²⁰⁹⁾ “i got a little bit stabbed.” for carcar pleaseee

I've blended this dialogue prompt and this "fake death/presumed dead" prompt from the situation prompts I did a while ago and created 1K of carcar/The Princess Bride fusion :-)

...

Oscar thought it was a joke, at first. One of George’s tone-deaf attempts at humor. 

“Oscar! Alex just came back… Miracle Max… and... and he put him in your tent… He’s in there, mate! Just… Carlos is in there!”

Joke or not, Oscar tears across the campsite, flinging open his tent flaps and coming face to face with the punchline.

Carlos Sainz has come back from the dead and is now lounging on the cot in Oscar’s quarters. 

“Oscar,” he breathes, limp except for the gleam in his eyes. He looks too solid to be a spectre, but Oscar’s too afraid to touch to make sure.

So he stays planted by the exit, barely breathing. He watches Carlos’ chest rise and fall, his eyes blink, his lips move. 

“What are you doing here?” Oscar asks. It’s just one of many pertinent questions, but the only one he can get out at the moment.

“I wanted to see you,” Carlos says, casually as ever. Like he wasn’t drained of all his blood two days ago.

“You- you were dead. I watched you die. It was… I was… You looked awful.” Oscar doesn’t like to think about it- the way the blood looked bright and tacky against Carlos’ skin, the life draining out of his face, how he took his last shaky breath as Oscar begged him to hang on.

And Carlos, the bastard, has the audacity to scoff. “It was not that bad.”

“Mate- what do you mean?” Oscar asks, incredulous. “You got stabbed!” 

He’s feeling a lot of emotions about this- supremely irritated now climbing to the top of the list. He really shouldn’t be surprised by that, considering it’s Carlos. 

“I got a little bit stabbed,” Carlos says. “A flesh wound, really.”

Only Carlos, in all his unbearableness, could argue with him about this. “There was a sword through you. How… You died!”

He says it, and suddenly he’s back there—hands pressed to Carlos’s abdomen, desperate to stop the bleeding. He remembers the way he sobbed and babbled, clinging to him until his knuckles turned white, until George had to drag him away, shouting that more Guilderian soldiers were coming and they had to move if they wanted to live.

If Carlos has really been alive this whole time, Oscar prays he doesn’t remember any of that.

From Oscar’s cot, Carlos sighs. “Okay. I died,” he acquiesces. “Well, I thought I did, at least.”

Oscar stares. “What?”

“It turns out- I was not all dead! Only mostly!” His voice is full of life, but his body still hasn’t moved, lying limp on Oscar’s cot. It’s a weird juxtaposition, such lively eyes on a body that could belong to a corpse. That did belong to a corpse.

“Mostly dead?” Oscar asks. He’s heard whispers of the concept somewhere, just old wives' tales and children’s fantasies, surely. Well, surely not. Because Carlos was here in front of him, living and breathing.

“Alex found me. Took me to a man called Miracle Max,” Carlos says, as if he’s listing off what chores he did around the farm this morning. 

“What?”

Carlos laughs. It sounds exactly like it used to. “He told me that I was only mostly dead-- slightly alive! That I was holding on to life because I had one very important thing going for me. Something that was worth living for!”

“...What?” Oscar says again. It’s his fourth “what” in as many minutes. He should think about changing his reactions up a bit.

“True love!” Carlos says, his face alight.

Oscar’s heart plummets from the Cliffs of Insanity. “…You’re in love?”

“Yes!” Carlos blathers, oblivious to the way the color is surely draining out of Oscar’s face. “I didn’t realize until I was mostly dead! I should have known… It’s the most powerful thing in the world!”

It hits Oscar all at once. Carlos is in love with Alex. Makes sense. Everyone’s in love with Alex. George won’t shut up about how Alex is so funny, and so smart and how he trained under the famed Dread Pirate Roberts. Hell, Oscar’s surprised he hasn’t fallen in love with Alex, too. It would be easier that way, at least. 

“I feel like I can do anything,” Carlos says, breathless and limp on Oscar’s cot. Oscar wonders if Alex carried him in here and left him for Oscar to find. What a mean joke. “I feel like I can wage a land war in Asia! I feel like I can withstand a wine glass full of iocane powder! I feel like I can fight off a thousand Rodents of Unusual Size!” 

“You can’t even move your legs,” Oscar says. It’s easier to say than what he’s thinking.

“The feeling will come,” Carlos says, waving the thought off. “Miracle Max told me. The important part is that I now realize I have something to fight for!”

“I’m glad. I’m really happy you’re alive,” Oscar says softly. “Alex is really lucky.”

“Alex?” Carlos says, eyebrows pinching together. Oscar has to strain to hear him. “Do you… want me to be in love with Alex?”

It’s a strange question. One that Oscar has to hold himself back from answering with an emphatic no. Because Oscar shouldn’t care that much. It’s none of Oscar’s business who Carlos chooses to love.

Loving Alex literally brought Carlos back from the dead. Oscar’s grateful for it, really.

“I… I want you to be in love with whoever you’re in love with,” Oscar says, blinking hard. “I should go thank him. He saved your life, brought you to Miracle Max. I just… sobbed over you.”

Oscar freezes. He didn’t mean to say that part. He’s too vulnerable right now- it makes him say the awful, no-good, horribly true things he’s thinking.

“You… sobbed over me?” Carlos asks, hint of a smile on his face.

Oscar’s face feels as hot as the dreaded Fire Swamp. “I…”

Carlos is kind. He doesn’t make him finish. “Oscar. It’s… I’m not in love with Alex.” 

He says it like Oscar’s the biggest idiot in the universe. It’s his favorite tone to take with Oscar. It’s a tone that makes Oscar’s heart perform back-handsprings in his ribcage.

“Oscar,” Carlos says, softer. “Stay.”

Oscar swallows. Breathes. Smiles. 

“As you wish.”

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(cell phone poll coming soon)

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mum says it’s my turn with the alpine second seat now

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reblog this and put in the tags which capital cities you’ve been to

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My highlight of the day was Esteban defending against Lewis as if his life was on the line