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once you start saying shit like "yayy" "yippee" and "hehe" theres no going back

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Michael Schumacher | 1997 Argentinian GP

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Monaco GP 📷 shotbyannig

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“I asked chatgpt” well I asked Ferrari and they said “we are checking”

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Not being very active on twitter or tiktok is fun because you'll occasionally get wind of some Discourse that makes hundreds of thousands of people extremely mad but you'll have the luxury of just going, "wow, that's stupid", and moving on while everyone else continues to suffer from rage induced aneurysms over pointless nonsense every waking hour

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Esi, my love <3

Tattoo or Universe, if you haven’t done either yet?

I’m loving all the little blurbs you’re writing 💜

Hi lovely <3 I have sort of done both, hopefully it turned out okay!

Prompts from here.

The evening air tastes like dust and hot concrete when Max walks out of the door, his box under an arm and a water bottle in the other hand, condensation dripping down his fingers.

He walks past the barn, reflexively listening for the heavy breathing of the cows inside, then past the garage, the last sun rays of the day brushing his neck. By the time he's sitting down next to the stream, barely a trickle of water over round stones these days, the horizon is tinged pink and purple, and the first stars are already visible above him.

He places his box on the grass, then the water bottle between two rocks, and finally takes off his shoes and socks, dipping his feet in the tepid water. After the heat of the day, even the stream doesn't carry any memory of the mountains it came down from.

His back aches, his limbs are tired, and there is a new cut on his forearm that stings, reminder of his clumsiness in repairing the west fence. He would love to go to bed, but he knows he would never be able to fall asleep without checking for Daniel first.

Without taking his feet out of the water, he turns, opening the box and taking out a little stand and one ancient radio. He doesn't even have to think anymore as he turns a few knobs, pressing one very large button that wasn't there where he bought the thing, and finally extending the antenna, twice as long as it used to be.

Then he turns back around towards the stream, as crinkly white noise fights with the crickets to fill the silence.

It's been 264 days since he's seen Daniel, 125 since the last time the radio gave any sign of life, and if Max is honest with himself, he's starting to worry. There's a thousand reasons why Daniel hasn't been in contact, including being too far away for the small radio, however improved it might be, and being somewhere where he simply doesn't know how much time has passed, but Max doesn't like to think too much about why he hasn't heard from Daniel in so long. He much prefers just sitting here, waiting, not thinking at all.

When the western sky turns dark, he lays back on the grass and stones, one very uncomfortable mattress, and studies the sky, trying to imagine in which one of the millions of solar systems out there Daniel could be right now. Tonight's fantasy is about a jungle world, lush and humid, turning Daniel's curls frizzy, where Daniel will meet a monkey-like race that will give him eternal bananas.

Max sighs to himself, shaking his head. Stupid fantasy.

And yet, that's all he has. Daniel had promised, while stepping into the repaired steps of his still wonky spaceship, that he would come back for Max's birthday. And he had. And then he had promised, on the shiny new steps of his fully fixed spaceship, that he would come back for new year.

And then he hadn't.

But he had promised, voice croaking through time and space in the little speakers of the radio, that he would come back for spring, he had just gotten caught up in a job, delayed by a wrong shipment.

It had been the last time the radio had come to life, beeping sounds followed by the slightly accented drawl of Daniel's artificially translated voice.

There's a light breeze now, the leaves above him rustling, the sound drowning out the empty buzzing of the radio for a moment, and Max shifts, so that his head is closer to the speakers, not wanting to miss a single sound.

He knows Daniel is still out there, knows that he will come back, but the waiting is still hard.

His hand brushes over his hip and then, just to reassure himself like he now does multiple times a day, he sits up slightly again, tugging up his dirt stained shirt to look at where a black fingerprint sits on his skin.

"It will hurt a little," Daniel had said, rubbing thumb and middle finger together, little sparks flying like miniature shooting stars, "but then you'll always know that I am okay."

Max doesn't know how it works, only knows that as long as it stays black, it means Daniel is okay, as far away as he might be. He only knows that that night, after the sharp pain had cursed through him, Daniel had kissed him and Max had felt, in some weird otherworldly feeling, that they were connected now. He only knows that it doesn't matter how long he will have to wait: if the fingerprint stays black, he'll come down to the river, the place where he had first seen Daniel stumbling out of the crash, and he will wait for his voice to come through the speakers, sunshine or rain.

Tonight all he has is the chirping of the crickets and the buzzing sound of the universe's white noise, but maybe tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow.

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alex marquez i'm sorry i wasnt familiar with your game

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x

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PLEASE HE’S JUST A BABY

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reminder that whilst yet another premiere of the F1 movie hits the world with its misogynistic representation, today June 23rd we celebrate the International Women in Engineering Day🤍

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someone get daniel to the fort pitt tunnel, he'd love a perks of being a wallflower moment

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lost&found

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"And I miss you, been far away for far too long"

Daniel almost cried singing far away out of the blue. How can we not have a far away edit ?

tblr only allows 500mb max per file in big 2025... apologies for the quality

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“You can’t put cups in cups!” | Scuderia Ferrari vs Ferrari Esports in Cup Tower Challenge!

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😌🤏🏾.

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i WILL be reading into the “lost&found” caption and “im ready” song title 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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A journalist at Motor Sport magazine just tweeted this ?!?!?

(and look maybe he's just clickbaiting or making some sort of joke because of the padel picture buuuuuut it might be something 👀👀) (edited to add: flicking through his twitter feed he doesn't seem like the type to post clickbait or silly jokes sooooooo ..... 🤞🏻 also he seems to do a lot of reporting on endurance racing/le mans)