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[soph-v]

With the F1 Movie release lingering closer and closer, it’s time to have an uncomfortable conversation.

Forgive me for going all feminist on you (I’m not sorry), but have a seat and let’s chat, yeah?

Let’s discuss the negative impact this movie is going to have on women in motorsport as well as female fans, shall we?

Of course the obvious conversation is about the women working in motorsport. Imagine how poorly the plot is going to reflect on them. Why? Oh, well let’s see. You’ve got an entire plot that revolves around the main character (who’s played by a misogynistic wife beater, by the way, great casting choice!) sleeping with his fucking female engineer.

Now bear in mind how that’s going to negatively affect the PR of women working in motorsport. Especially Laura Mueller, who is the sport’s first ever female race engineer in its entire 75 year history. Who literally already has incels on the internet saying the only way she got her job is because she slept with someone.

And of course, consider the female fans.

There are so many of us out here every day fighting with male fans who think we “don’t know anything” and “only watch F1 because the drivers are hot.” We are constantly ostracized in this fucking sport and feeling like we have to prove that we’re even allowed to like it.

Can you imagine how poorly the F1 Movie will reflect on us?

All this movie is going to do is push the harmful, negative stereotype that F1 is a “man’s world.” It’s just going to make women feel like they don’t belong in a sport where they already feel shoved aside.

So, and maybe I’m being a little dramatic here, but if you happen to know a female F1 fan, please be kind to her. Please check on her.

And to all my ladies, we do belong in this sport. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 💜💜

[soph-v]

I’m in the mood to write again so here I am…

Again I’m new to this type of writing so it might not be that good. I really appreciate any criticism or helpful comments so feel free to comment :). This isn’t proofreading! I hope you like it.

TW: toxic relationships and suicide/OD and mentions of sex.

It was late June. The sun was low in the clouds, sleepy heat shining off of the pavement. The warm hall was empty apart from me and him. We stand apart, my eyes red and puffy as I listen to him whisper shout at me. His eyes are angry, nose scrunched as he tells me I’m horrible. I try to keep my tears at bay, lips wobbling as I hear the familiar click and clack of heels. I know she’s there before I see her, standing behind me, sharp eyes stabbing into my back. The second she shows up he’s smiling, eyes bright all the dangerous anger faded.

‘What are you doing out of class?? You are-‘ she checks her watch, glasses falling down her nose slightly. ‘10 minutes late! Go to class.. now!’

She stands there watching us walk away, my head held low and hands shaking as he leans closer. He shifts so he can hold my waist, hand too tight against the skin, his face is near my ear as he whispers threats of how he would get me back. I thank the god up above when we reach the classroom door, hand retreating from my waist as I knock on the door. I can feel his presence slip away, my skin feeling less taught on my bones, muscles relaxing slightly. I turn to see the empty space, his scent twirling inside my nose.

The door opens behind me and I’m quickly ushered inside. I take my usual seat at the back corner, sun now shunning itself from the window as I seat myself. I get my pencil from the draw tucked into the desk, its lead is sharp and pointy as I push it into the plush of my thumb. Its other end is splintered and torn, the yellow and black strips blending into the wood filling. Its grey lead sticks out at me, a brutal reminder of how it happened. I sit and stare at the fading pencil drawings on the desk, one of me and him the day we met, one of the shining sun the day he got a new dog, the cake we made for my sisters birthday, a crying girl staring into space. The newer they were the messier they seemed, as if time and anger was taking them away. As if every time he shouted or grabbed me too hard or pulled my hair the sunshine dulled, the shine of the grey splintering.

I’m tuned back into the lesson as I hear the teacher tell us the plans for homework. We were so close to the end of the year, one more day and that’s it… i would be free. I would be able to have a break. It all seemed so easy as I listened to him explain it, one more day and that’s it, no more school, no more work, no more him.. until September… September the start of the new year. Then I would be in the same position, no way out again as he put me through hell. I try and bargain with myself, I tell myself it’s not that bad and that it’ll get better but deep down I know it won’t. Deep down I know I won’t last until September.

The late July moon hangs low in the sky, my homework lays untouched on my wooden desk pencil and pens lay messed over the floor. Clothes are strewn all over the grey carpet, the bedsheets in weird positions. I’m laying sideways, one hand on his bear chest the other cradling the bruises burning into my neck and shoulders. My hair is matted with sweat, mascara running down my face as tears dry across my cheeks. His arm is slung over my hip, fingers splayed out as he murmurs sweet nothings.

When he turns his face is full of manipulation and satisfaction at the fun time he had. He lets his eyes peruse my naked form, eyes ogling my chest continuously. Shame bubbles up my throat as his lust filled eyes bore into mine.

‘I’ll always love you okay? You’re my number one!’ He says, smile creeping up into his eyes at the joke.

I nod, smile trying but failing to lift my eyes. I feel his attention shift as his phone pings. His body leaving a dent in the bed, the warmth seeping from the mattress. I hear him shove his clothes on, mumbling a half hearted goodbye before the door clicks. I’m left alone, naked and full of shame again. I thought it would be different this time but I guess not.

I resist from curling into a ball and turn to my back. My eyes find the familiar swirl pattern on my ceiling, hands resting on my stomach. I replay his words over and over again in my head. My lips falling over the words clumsily as I repeat them. I let the feeling of them slip over me, clothing me in hope as I lay naked in the wreckage. I pray for a quick end, something easy and calm. Something to make it go away, to make him go away.

I could feel the weight of everything on my shoulders as I stumbled to the bathroom. It was late at night, but I didn’t know the time, I knew it was past July but I didn’t know the date. I opened the door like I was drunk, the curving metal of the handle creasing my hand. I immediately went for the bright white cabinet my parents had bought last winter. They had said it would be good for pills like paracetamol and birth control but now I open the cool doors to stare at the menacing orange bottle of pills.

I pick them up with shaky hands, tears staining my vision as I stare at the prescription taped to the side. I barely make out the faint words of the correct dosages as I struggle with the cap. The white lid clatters into the sink. I shake out a handful of small white pills, they feel chalky against my dry hands and when I move they leave a white film over the skin.

I take a deep breath before shoving them down my throat, some getting stuck to my tounge or cheek and others fall straight through. The familiar taste of pills coats my mouth as I search for water in the pitch black view of the moon. My hands land on my school water bottle, crumpled and half full of probably old water but I didn’t care it’ll all be over soon anyway.

I uncap the bottle, ridges scraping against my nails. I chug the water left in there before filling the water bottle again and putting it to my dry lips. I finish it again and push it into the over flowing bin shoved under the sink. I stumble back into the dark room, bumping into the desk, making pencils and paper fall off of the side, the fan still rotating making paper fly over the room.

I fall into the bed, pull the covers over my cold body and wait….

I wake up to the sound of beeping and rattling. My eyes open slowly, confusion immediately setting in. I look at my surroundings, white walls and floors, plain bedsheets and swinging doors. I smell antiseptic and sorrow, hear weeping and faint screams. I turn to the side to see my mother looking at me as if I just gave her the world. Her eyes glassy and smile wide, my father at her side, his hand trying to cover his emotions. I go to speak, my voice feels chalky and dry.

The memory’s come rushing back, the orange bottle, residue on my hands, my dry throat and the old water. I look up to see my parents full of pity.

‘What…?’

I find myself at a loss of words, unsure what to say or how to react. I don’t have to do much as a doctor comes in, chipper even though she had dark under eye circles, smile fake and hair messy.

‘Well, Hello! I’m so happy to see you’re awake, I think you needed that rest!’ She jokes. No one laughs.

She continues spewing at me at a rapid pace, I don’t keep up. My brain is laggy as it tries to catch up, asking question after question.

‘Why didn’t it work?’ I ask. A simple question but everyone seems to stop dead at the utter of its mention.

‘Well sweetheart, the pills were old. And the water chaser definitely helped. You should count yourself lucky!’ The seemingly brave nurse answers before pulling my parents out to sign forms.

I seem to wait forever. The beeping and squeaking of the hospital driving my head to pounding. I finally hear the door swing open, expecting my mums welcoming arms to greet me but instead… him. His eyes are red and it looks as though he had been crying. He steps forward in slow, timid steps. His head is down, hair shining and perfect and clothes looking new and expensive. He stops next to my arm, sinking down into the chair like a child who had been told off and was now sulking.

‘Do you love me?’ He asks in a small voice. I don’t trust my voice so I nod slightly, fear rising like Bile in my throat. I felt like throwing up. He looks up, eyes full of danger.

The second he starts shouting in out of it, eyes full of tears as my ears try tirelessly to block out his loud booming voice. My hands fiddle with the heart rate monitor, ripping it off. I cradle my head in my hands as he tells me how selfish I’ve been and how hurt he is and what I did wrong. I don’t know when it stopped. All I know is that at one point my parents came back. They came back and took me home.

I know this isn’t very good and very short but I can’t stop listening to this song and really wanted to write so… it isn’t proofread so again probably loads of mistakes. Hope you enjoyed it though and as I’ve said before if you have any requests or anything feel free to ask and feel free to tell me if you liked this or not :)

[soph-v]

the category is men with a slutty waist

[soph-v]

[soph-v]

“are you ok?”

(hasn’t been eating or sleeping, constantly switching between insane panic and dissociation) “sure”

[soph-v]

“this fic was written by AI”

[soph-v]

[soph-v]

I love Fleetwood mac and love this song so thought I’d write about it. This is my first piece of writing so please don’t judge!! Anyway I hope you like it ♡

It was awkward. Really awkward, but you were in a band together so of course it was.

You and your band mates were waiting behind the curtain, you could hear the muffled excitement from the crowd and introduction by the host. Your hands hung by your side, twirling the long piece of black fabric you had dressed in earlier.

Your eyes faced forward as you tried to ignore him standing to your side, hands sitting idly on his guitar. It had been a year of arguing and frostiness with him before finally deciding to break it off. It hurt you both but it was for the best, you could now both be happy and still be in the band.. or so you thought. It was meant to be okay. You’d both taken a few months off to cool down and still the ice wasn’t melting. You just wanted to be back to friends, back to the old banter and heart eyes across the room but you knew that wasn’t possible. He had a new girlfriend now..

You break out of your thoughts just as the curtain opens to reveal the five of you in your places. You stood at the front, two of your band mates behind you and the other two on either side of you. You feel the music through the floor before it hits your ears, taking advantage of the moment to take a deep breath. You step closer to the mic, hands reaching up to grip it. You let the lyrics slide from your brain to your lips, having memorised it from playing it so often. Your eyes close as memory’s flood your brain.

“You could be my silver spring”

You and him talking back and forth about lyrics in your shared apartment. His hair messy and slept on, still in pyjamas as you let the early sun filter in through the windows.

“Blue-green colours flashing”

His birthday party, smile bright and eyes full of delight as he opens your gift. A new guitar, blue and green swirls cover the expanse of it. His eyes blow wide with delight.

“I would be your only dream. Your shining autumn ocean crashing”

Your laying on the sand outside of your holiday house. Chess game sitting on the side forgotten as you bask in the sun. His hand in yours as you point out the shapes in the clouds. It’s late autumn but the sun still heats your skin as the ocean calms your brain. The comfort is forgotten as a phone rings, he reaches into his pocket. He walks away, bliss forgot as he turns his back to you.

“And did you say she was pretty? And did you say that she loves you? Baby, I don’t wanna know”

After a gig, waiting at the car. Cigarette in hand as you watch him from afar. He’s been distant. You see his smile brighten as he indulges the fan girls twirling their hair and flashing their puppy eyes. You turn away.

“I’ll begin not to love you, turn around see me running. I say I loved you years ago, tell myself you never loved me, no”

Sitting in the bed, moon casting shadows across the room. You’ve waited and waited, it’s been all night. The dinner sits cold on the counter in the kitchen, wine bottle opened and untouched. The tv blares as it shatters light across your face. You think of the promises he’d made, the promise of forever, of marriage and children. You think of the late nights spent telling secrets and thinking up lyrics. You realise the waste and lies.

You close your eyes tight, ignore the crowd. Try to wipe him from your memory. From you.

You turn, unable to resist. You look at his face, eyes turned to his guitar in shame. You feel the anger bubble up, seeing his new girlfriend jump up and down. The same one you had caught him with. The same one he had left you for.

You feel the lyrics deep in your body. Ears filled with the harmony of instruments, his voice cutting through like a melodic knife straight to your chest. You turn to see his face, wanting to catch his eye, Wanting him to feel shame and horror for what he had done.

You feel the music quieten slightly as he takes his solo. The guitar rhythm seeming to ripple through him, eyes cast downwards as his hands work with skill against the guitars strings. The blue and green firework design bursting out at everyone, reminding you of the intimate moments you shared.

“Time cast its spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have loved you but you would not let me.”

You let the lyrics burst through your body, taking your heart as hostage as your emotions flow freely. You feel a tear come to your eye as you turn to face him.

His face is no longer hidden as he sings into the mic, eyes blazing ahead shame burning through. The gravel of his voice burns through your body, sparks firing up, fire catching your bones.

Your body turns toward him, legs taking shaky steps, hands leaning on the mic stand. Your voice becomes forceful as fire flares in your eyes.

“I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice will haunt you”

Breath becomes heavy as you lean forward, hair swaying. Your eyes bore into his, hate and mutual love create a string.

His gaze pours into yours, eyes full of infatuation. The whine of obsession layers his voice, thick against the mic. The warmth beating off his body wanting to welcome you back into the once comforting home. His body begs to worship you, eyes admiring the disdain apparent on your face.

Your eyes ignore his petulant whines of adoration. Lips speaking spells of loathing and distaste. Venom splatters from your tongue, bile rising high in your throat. Angst falls from your eyes, hostility radiating from your body. Bitterness and resent make your hands shake against the mic stand, form stiff with malice. Disgust and jealousy falls in shadows across your face, his girl friend now quieting from embarrassment in the crowds. She retreats, eyes full of sorrow and surprise, muscles tight with tension at the realisation of his past.

You harmonised into the mic, feelings taking over. Your body radiates history as you sing at him, the duet making the crowd gasp and gape at the show. He seemingly all but groans into the mic, overheated lips brushing against the cool metal, sweat creating droplets on his upper lip. The passion clear on his face as his voice croons and hums into the mic stand, gruff voice caressing your body.

You feel your chest restrict, voice grinding and scratching its way through your throat. His strangled melody grates against your ears, rough straining growls tunnelling through your ear canal. Your silvery, sweet voice dwells in his body, lying down in his soul. Her clear, pleasing voice crashing against his guttural tune carving its way through his throat.

You let your body push you closer, dress flowing at your legs. The mic stand drags at the floor, anger and past arguments seeming to age you both a million years. The closer you are the more you want to be, body craving his rough obsession. Your voice gets angrier and angrier, the lyrics curling up into your stomach and making a home. Your head pounding with lost anxiety as you stare your past lover in the eyes.

The drums resonate, banging into your bones and muscle. Piano twisting itself into your hair. Your voice intertwines with his, bonding to your heart and soul.

“Never get away, never get away, never get away ”

You let the band sing, heart pumping fast as you let free, All your feelings coming to a crest inside of you before flooding out like a giant sea.

You finish the song off, mind roaring and heart racing. Your head hangs low as you wean off the last notes. breath is heavy as your hair falls into your face. Thanking the hosts and audience before promptly leaving the stage, long dress flowing after you. You don’t wait for the band before hailing a taxi and making your way back home, mind racing.

You know this is the end, the end of the band. that you won’t sing with them again and you won’t ever see him again. But you find yourself relieved, heart growing light at the thought of freedom, brain going quiet with the idea of his face becoming a distant memory. Maybe it’s what’s best…

This is my first time writing officially so please don’t judge me too bad though helpful criticism is always appreciated. I tried my best but I didn’t proofread it lol and it was written at around midnight 😅 also I’m Still a student! I hope I did the song and performance justice thought I probably didn’t lol. I tried to make it so you could self insert any character you’d like as I don’t know who my target audience would be. Anyway I hope you liked it, please give your thoughts and if you have any requests I’d be happy to do them :) ♡

[soph-v]

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

[soph-v]

[soph-v]

Pov: you're reading fanfiction and suddenly y/n starts to call him daddy