#france mad max

[badflicks]

Trompe L’Oeil (1975) 🍕🍕

A restoration of this unreleased French/Belgian tv production made its way into the festival circuit in 2022. Impressive cinematography but above all an absolute slow motion mindfuck.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part one max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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One of the things Max Verstappen despises about being Max Verstappen is being Max Verstappen. Three time world champion, youngest race winner, mad max, f1 dominator, all the fame and media and people following him around. It's very hard to get a moment of peace or be treated normally. When people hear his name they either put on big smiles or ugly frowns. He hates the special treatment.

He misses when he could have a conversation without people recording or judging him. Without people whispering about him, or fake being his friend for whatever fame. When people would just spend time with him for the sake of spending time, or having a conversation for the sake of friendly socialization and conversation. Luckily though for the Dutch, in this day and age, Max could just enter a spare email in Discord and make a second lowkey account.

The pfp was a random photo of Max, a meme. Lowkey enough, Max decided after staring at the profile long enough before opening DiscoBoard. After scrolling and searching, he was dawned upon with a relatively small server with only 280 people online, surrounding sim racing. After he followed instructions on the welcome page like verifying he's not a robot and picking roles, he got his first ping. 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max met you in August of 2022. The way you talked and messed around with him got him constantly checking his phone for notifications over the next months. The way you befriended him and were relaxed around him once the two of you got to know each other, it kept him sane. And although Max didn't really reveal a lot about himself except that his work required a lot of traveling and effort, you trusted him enough to share about your own life up in France, ranting about your weird encounters as an employee at Cisco.

The blonde’s favorite part about getting home was plopping in his gaming chair and switching his Discord accounts. Pulling his headphones on and navigating through the server, he joined the active voice chat. It was as if he was switching lives, turning off Max Verstappen to be an irrelevant 26 year old.

“A millioooon.” you sang like you always did, a nickname you’d given him since amilian sounded like a million. 

“Laaaaa.” Max sang back with a chuckle before greeting the other acquaintances present on the call. 

“How was your weekend?” You hummed. 

“Same as always. Maybe a bit shittier this time.” He sighed, seeing you were on Gran Turismo from your shared screen. 

“I’d love to beat up someone for you.” You always offer when he’s down. The blonde would laugh and shake his head even though you can’t see. You never cease to bring him a smile with your tone and jokes and hearty aura, despite being kilometers up north. "We're waiting for Josh to take a few rounds around spa, you wanna join?" 

"Oh, yes please." friendly racing with no consequences, points or championship? just friends messing around and enjoying themselves? Yes please.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You see the new verstappen photos that just dropped, Mr. Max Verstappen nerd?" Max looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your dm chat where the two of you decided to move the call once everyone else put down the steering wheel for the night.

"This one is from Bahrain I think . . . you know, I'm starting to take a liking to him." Max rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "To be honest, I was kind of disappointed this weekend." Max rubbed his eyes, looking up at your profile picture. 

"Why what happened?" He asked even though he probably knew all too well the events of the Australian grand prix.

"Max DNFed on the third or fifth lap." You sighed. 

"Oh yeah?" Max hummed, pursing his lips, not wanting to recall the memories. "What's so bad about that? I thought you were a die hard Charles fan?" he asked. 

"Excuse you, I'm a die hard Fernando fan." You joked in a sassy tone which pulled a chuckle from him.

"What is it about Max DNFing that is bothering you then?" Max himself asked, putting his phone down to concentrate on your voice. 

"I just don't—" you sighed deeply. On your end of the call you rolled back in your chair, getting up and flopping on your bed with your phone in hand.

When you did answer his question, all Max heard was mumbles because your voice was muffled by your pillow. "Can't hear you, La. Aren't you happy about the Carlando podium? You were so happy about it last year." 

"I am happy, I am. But Max . . . well Max . . . i don't know." you grumbled frustrated. "He's such a good driver, and deserves a lot— he works really really hard."

Max never thought he'd hear you talking about him like that. He'd usually hear other people on the server dissing him and cursing him. And although you were always mostly neutral with the drivers, the way you spoke about Max tonight melted his heart. It also felt very wrong.

While you turned and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your room, venting your feelings about a driver who you thought didn't know you existed, said driver folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms listening to you vent about how much you were amazed and proud even though you don't know him personally or him not being your favorite driver.

Max glanced up at his monitor as you sighed to gather your thoughts. "Sometimes when i look at him, he reminds me of myself. I never really got to go past karting, but for some reason I see a little bit of y/n in him." 

"—Y/n?" He sat up hearing the name. 

"I—" You face palmed upon the realization.

 "Is that your name?" Max asked. You nodded briefly with a sigh but he couldn't see.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Weird name, I know—" 

"I like it." He reassured. "It's not like Amilian is any better." he tried to lighten the mood, working slightly. 

"A million." you giggled making him chuckle back. 

"A million, " he repeated quieter, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin back down on his arm.

Such a foolish thing to do, taking a liking to a woman you've never met.

Voice notes . . . ( my brain is like a zoo rn, starting projects and not being able to track anything while working on everything at the same time )Word count - ( 1, 165 ) credits for proof reading -> @classiclitfreak (check out their blog!!)

[sinofwriting]

Causing Problems - Max Verstappen

Words: 2,365 Summary: After learning about his girlfriends first time, it’s safe to say that Max is not happy. Note(s)/Warnings: Leclerc!Reader, Talks of Sex/Losing Virginity. Mentions/Talks of Underage Sex. Past Pierre/Reader. Also there is french here, didn’t use google translate, but still used a translator, so sorry if any of it’s wrong.

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“Don’t judge me.” His brows raise and he can’t help but smile. “What could I ever judge?” She shoots him a disbelieving look, but sighs. “I was fourteen.” His eyes widened. “See judge!” He shakes his head, “no, no. No judgment, just,” he pauses unsure how to phrase it. “Lorenzo and Charles let you have a boyfriend at fourteen?” She snorts, ten years had passed and the two and now Arthur wrinkled their nose at the idea of her with a boy. They were somewhat fond of her and Max together. “No, I,” she pauses, feeling herself get a little flustered as she thinks about who and how she lost her virginity.

“It was a friend.” Her voice is a little fond, but she squeezes Max’s hand letting him know it’s not the person she’s fond of but rather just the memory. Her eyes flicker upwards to meet the Dutch’s eyes. Seeing how warm they are and his earnest nod to continue, she does.

“We were in France for a race.” She squeezes his hand again, “you won that one.” She tells him, smiling at his eyes crinkling at her pause. “We decided to stay with his family for the night instead of at the racetrack or just driving home. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go down to the basement, hoping to wear myself out by uh,” she pauses trying to think of the word in English. “Pacing?” He offers, having seen her do it a few times. She nods, smiling wide. “Yes, pacing. But when I got there, he was also there unable to sleep. We talked for a bit and then things got a bit tense and we ended up having sex.” She shrugs, with a little laugh. “It was a little odd since we both hadn’t done it before. But it was good.” “Did you orgasm?” He can’t help but ask. “Surprisingly, yes.” A flare of jealousy hits him at the knowledge that some fourteen year old kid got a girl off his first time having sex, while he didn’t when he was eighteen. But it leaves just as quickly as it came, shock replacing it with her next words. “But after all the French are known for being generous lovers and Pierre is quite French, no?” She laughs. “Pierre?” He asks, brain struggling to comprehend what she said. “Yes, Pierre.”

The confirmation makes him a blink and god he can’t believe the balls on the French driver. Charles was insanely overprotective. Then again, if Charles had any idea what his best friend and little sister had done he wouldn’t be alive but at the bottom of the river.

Then a thought strikes him, Pierre and her weren’t not the same age. A fourteen year old virgin didn’t make her cum but rather a seventeen year old one and suddenly anger is boiling in his stomach.

“He was seventeen.” His voice is surprisingly blank. “Yes, Pierre is three years older than me.” She looks at him, worryingly. “Max, are you okay?”

—

“Gasly!” The frenchman’s head jerks to the left at the sound of his last name in such anger. He stares wide eyed at the dutch driver. His jaw was twitching, face red, and fists clenched. He had only seen Max this angry a couple of times before but never was it directed at him. “Max.” He ends up saying, eyes flickering around the room. Hoping that Charles, Daniel, Lando, Alex, or George know what’s going on, but they all look just as confused. His eyes catch on Y/N, who's looking at Max with wide eyes of her own. “Fourteen.” The word is gritted out and Pierre’s eyes are back on him, more confusion filling him. “What?”

He couldn’t think of anything that would make Max this mad involving the number fourteen. Lap fourteen had been fine this race. They hadn’t yet gotten to race fourteen of the season. It couldn’t be the year 2014, they didn’t have any contact that year.

“Fourteen.” Max repeats, putting a weird emphasis on the word as it comes out quieter than before. Pierre’s eyes flicker to the only girl in the room, hoping she’ll know what it’s about and when his eyes move to look at her it hits him and his eyes are moving back to Max. Understanding him. “Oh, fourteen.” “Yes,” the Dutch driver’s jaw twitches again. “Fourteen.”

He can’t help but glance around the room taking in how the other guys are still looking at Max and now him in confusion. He notes that Charles has gotten up, clearly ready to interfere. Get in between them if it comes down to it. And Pierre winces. There would be no getting out of this. He’d have to come clean and perhaps lose Charles’ friendship forever.

“Would you like to hit me and then talk? Or talk and then hit me?” He offers Max, figuring that no matter what he’d end the night with some bruises. Suddenly she’s standing in between them, gently resting a hand on Max’s chest. “There won’t be any hitting. Words only.” She tells Max, her eyes flickering to her brother as she says it. His expression of confusion only deepened at the words also directed towards him as he sat back down.

She pushes Max to sit down on the floor next to Daniel and a space between him and Charles where she would sit in a moment. She turns to face Pierre.

“Je suis désolé, pierre.” I’m so sorry, Pierre. She apologizes, twisting her fingers together in a way that makes him wince. He shakes his head, standing and maybe he shouldn’t but he pulls her into a hug. Keeping his hands clearly in Max’s sight. There was no need to make him any madder. “Non, bébé calmar. Tu ne t'excuses pas. C'est bien.” No, baby squid. You don't apologize. It's fine. He pulls away from her, giving her hand a squeeze before taking a step back. “C'est à vous de partager.” It is for you to share. “Ce n'est pas seulement le mien.” It is not just mine. He shakes his head, had he hoped that Charles would never know, yes. But he had always known that one day he’d find out. He could only be happy that he got a decade more of his friendship. “C'était toujours le tien.” It was always yours. She looks like she is going to argue more and he expects her to. It was such a Leclerc thing to do, argue until you got your way. But she doesn’t. She gives him another sorry look before sitting in between Max and Charles. Ignoring the soft nudge that her brother gives her.

“Max,” Pierre starts to say, but stops not sure what to say, what to do. Did the younger driver want an apology? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t something he could apologize to Max for. The only person he really could offer an apology to was Charles and that was only for not telling him sooner.

Pierre and Y/N had spoken about it after it happened. It wasn’t something they could really ignore or pretend didn’t happen. They had even spoken about it a little over a year ago when Kika had found out. Kika made a joke about it as they all went for dinner, a little wine drunk, but hoping to see Pierre get a little flustered. He nearly smiles at the thought of Kika. She really was amazing, far better than he deserved, and her easy acceptance of what happened between them when they were so young.

“Fourteen, Pierre. She was fourteen.” Max’s voice draws him out of his thoughts. “Yes, and I was seventeen.” His acknowledgement makes Max wince and he catches Alex’s wide eyes and knows that he’s realized what this about or at least has a good idea of it. “And you just,” Max starts, before shaking his head. “That was fine with you?” “I wouldn’t do it again, if that’s what you are asking.” Pierre sighs when Max’s expression doesn’t change. “Max, your issue with this is the age difference. And I imagine it’s worse because of Kika, yes?” Max nods. He presses his lips together, murmuring to himself in french under his breath. “I never intended for it to happen, Max. We were kids. Me less so, but still young, foolish.”

“What happened?” Charles speaks for the first time, looking between Pierre and Max. “What happened when you were seventeen?” Pierre sighs, but before he can speak, she does. “Charles, do you remember when you were fifteen, we went to that race in France and we stayed with Pierre’s family for the night?” He nods after a second. “Yes, Papa didn’t want to stay at the track or drive home that night.” “I couldn’t sleep that night, so I went down to the basement so I could pace.” “You still do that.” Charles interrupts her, the words fond. “Yes. But Pierre was also there, he couldn’t sleep either. We ended up talking.” Charles nods, because yes that made sense. She didn’t like pacing if someone else was in the room and awake. Would rather talk until she fell asleep. “Pierre and I,” she pauses before slipping into french. “nous avons fait l'amour.” we had sex. “Non.” No. His mouth is open, disbelief in his eyes. “Non. Vous deux ne l'avez pas fait.” No. You two did not. “Charles,” she lays a hand on his arm. “We did. It was in the moment and never happened again.” “But you were so young. Just a baby.” His face is horrified and everyone in the room knows now what Max bursting in was about. Her brows furrow. “I was not a baby. I was fourteen.” Charles makes a pained noise and then his attention turns to Pierre, a fire in his eyes.

“You!” He points at Pierre. “How could you! She’s my sister. My baby sister!” He puts his hands up. “We didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I went down to the basement to watch tv because I couldn’t sleep. Not to have sex for the first time with your sister.” His fists clench, wanting to say something more, but unable to say anything but, “Je suis désolé, Charles. J'aurais dû,” I'm sorry, Charles. I should have, “Non.” Charles shakes his head, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it. You should have told me sooner. Not wait so long. I need time. She was a baby, Pierre.” He says the last sentence quietly and Pierre knows that his insistence makes no sense to her or the rest of the people in the room, but he understands.

He had been the one to hold Charles after his father made him promise to always take care of her, to watch over her, to protect her. Had cemented that she was his baby sister, she needed protection, to Charles. Had promised to help Charles with that promise.

“I need time, Calamar.” His voice is gentle, but there's a raw element to it. “Of course, Charles.” As he stands to look around the room, he has to look away at the different looks some of the drivers give him. Moving out of the weird sort of circle the driver’s had formed when they first entered Charles’ room hours ago, he stops just before the entryway.

“Y/N if,” “I know, Pierre.” She stops him before he can continue, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Give Kika my love.” He huffs out a laugh. “Of course.” And with that he slips out of the room.

—

“Are you better, Max?” She asks, when nearly an hour later they are back in his hotel room, a glass of wine in her hand. He winces, “I’m sorry. My anger got the better of me.” She nods, lips pressing together. A little embarrassment still lingering inside of her. It wasn’t Lando, Daniel, Alex, or George knowing. It was Charles. It was her older brother, her closest brother. She had never wanted Charles to know that much about her and Pierre. She knew just like Pierre even if they had hoped it wouldn’t come out, that it would. She had just figured it would come out that yes, they had sex together. It was one time, maybe that they were each other's firsts but that was it.

She didn’t want him to know that it was in France. After a race, in Pierre’s home. She especially didn’t want him to know that she had been fourteen. It made her shrink a little, knowing that he knew that. And yet she didn’t hate Max for letting that loose. She was a little angry with him, but it was her own fault. She should have never been so careless to let it slip that it was Pierre when he was close by. Should have waited for summer break, when they were in completely different countries.

“I’m angry with you.” She was not going to hide that. “I didn’t want Charles to know that. All of that. Pierre and I figured that at some point it would come out, but he was not supposed to know all of that.” “I’m sorry.” He apologizes again. “I,” he pauses. “My temper, it needs to be worked on.” She nods again, “You are better than before. You’ve grown much since.” She sighs, placing the glass down and turning to look at him. “I should have waited until summer break.” He shakes his head, “no, this was all me. And I’ll apologize to Pierre as well.” He looks a little pained at the thought. “Good. He deserves one.” “Yes, he does.”

She looks at him, taking in the regretful expression on his face. The way his body is slightly curled in. Grabbing her glass of wine, she tosses the rest of the glass back, before setting it back down and taking her shirt off.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She tells him, thumbs pressing between her skin and her pants as she starts to take them off. “You’re going to join me.” “I am?” She raises an eyebrow. “I am.” Max nods, eyes wide as he watches her completely strip. “Good. Hurry. It’ll be cold without you.” She tells him, before walking to the bathroom, the door slightly closed behind her as the sound of the shower fills the room.

---

Tagging: @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

[ef-1]

Twitter is mad at Daniel again because they caught on to that CH interview about Daniel being offered the same contract as Max, icl I'm also bitter about it. I wish he wasn't so rash in 2018

It's easy to be bitter in hindsight but the reality is more nuanced, had it not been recorded and internationally broadcast, what happened to Daniel in 2018 would be flat out unbelievable by ANY standard lol. Daniel had mechanical issues in every. single. weekend in 2018 <- this is not a hyperbole or a joke (more on this later). He ran multiple races with a b spec engine -> 20 bhp down on Max. At no point in 2018 did Max run a lower engine power than Daniel. Daniel incurred 8 dnfs, 4 back of the grid starts for mechanical issues and 6 grid drops in total where as Max had *1*[one]. This isn't even accounting for failures in quali or free practice that would have compromised his set up or race prep. Daniel's car accounted for 92% of Red Bull failures in comparison to Max's 8%.

Christian's cunty "he ran from a fight" comment stung particularly hard because it was Christian who made MULTIPLE public apologies to Daniel in 2018 on the ground that he wasn't given a chance to compete. Christian would apologise to Daniel again when Max won in Mexico, even though Daniel had an uncharacteristic outburst in the media pen during that famous "The car is cursed. I can't wait to give it to Pierre" This isn't even diving into the dubious & predatory RB contract practices. At 28 years old, to quote Christian "It's the first time he's effectively a free agent."

You look back at it now and lament it as a bad call but even by Christian's admission Red Bull were on the verge of selling the team for 4 years. Honda was coming in, I know it's easy to praise Honda now but Honda single handedly sent Alonso into early retirement. He found working with them untenable + said it cost him his love for the sport. Those were the lingering images of Honda as they re-entered the sport, the team who electrocuted Alonso then bled his love for racing dry.

If you weren't around in 2018 let me give you a run down so horrific it looks like a joke:

Australia - Race: 3 Place grid penalty

Bahrain - Race: DNF - Battery Failure

China - Free Practice 3: Gear box issue with complete engine turbo failure. Misses FP3 entirely, no quali set up prepared. He would go on to win that race from p6

Baku - Race: DNF - Collision with Max. Racing incident.

Monaco - Race: partial MGU-K failure. He would go on to win that race with drastic loss of power.

Canada - Free Practice 2 - Power unit issue, misses majority of the session.

France - Race: front wing failure. (it disintegrated)

Austria - Race: DNF - Retires from p3 with MGU-k Failure

Britain - Quali: DRS failure. No DRS activation, still qualifies p6 behind Max in p5

Germany - Race: Back of grid start + DNF - Takes new engine for the weekend, starts p19 + has lower power spec A ICE approximately 20 BHP down on B spec that Max was running. Daniel climbed upto p5 from p19 but incurs a MGU-k failure and retires.

Hungary - Race: Daniel is forced to run lower power spec A ICE again, 20 BHP down on B spec that Max was running

Spa - Free Practice 1 + DNF: Daniel misses entire session with engine injector issue + Daniel would go on to retire after being driven into on lap 1.

Monza - Race: Back of grid start + DNF. Daniel takes another new engine for weekend (spec C) and incurs another full grid penalty, starts p19. Daniel would go on to climb to p6 before having clutch failure and retiring.

Singapore - Race + Quali + Free practice: During every session in Singapore Daniel has an unresolved spec C engine clipping issue that Red Bull can't fix.

Russia - Race + Free Practice 1 - Daniel misses FP1 due to mechanical issues. Daniel takes another engine penalty, starts p18

Japan - Race + Quali: Daniel incurs throttle actuator failure, misses quali, another back of grid start.

USA - Race: DNF - Battery Failure

Mexico - Race: DNF - clutch Bearing failure + start software clutch issue. Daniel retires the race from P2

Brazil - Race: Daniel takes a 5 Place grid penalty due to new turbo charger replacement. Starts in p11.

Abu Dhabi - Free Practice 3: Misses majority of FP3 with water leak.

Daniel's insanely vulnerable "if racing was the only thing making me happy this year, I would have been miserable" during the last on the sofa with Max was a v apt summary of 2018. To suggest that Daniel fucked up based on the information he had in 2018, namely Daniel undergoing all those problems + knowing RB was flirting with selling the team + Helmut's fuckery + having an out from the RB umbrella for the first time in his career? Your problem isn't with his decision making process, you just wish he was clairvoyant which is an unfair thing to be bitter about

[delicatesoundofthunderr]

Lock up ~ Chapter 6

{Charles Leclerc x Reader}

French GP - race 8

Y/N POV

I didn't really know how to feel towards Leclerc's words. It shouldn't affect me since I'm not even dating Max, but the fact he seemed so mad made me feel a thousand things. Mostly satisfied, since there was nothing more fun than to annoy Leclerc deeply. I don't know where his anger comes from though. Maybe the thought of me happy? The same could be said for me when I saw him and that girl laugh.

With all these confusing sentiments, I decided to open my phone.

Not this account again...

@F1.drama

MAX HAS BEEN CAUGHT CHEATING...

Yall... We don't even know who this girl is, but that is not Y/N. They've also been caught kissing :((. I feel so bad for Y/N, she's never gonna win a grand prix ever again without Max's help...

@chloe.gal: nah that's wrong... also wdym by Y/N never winning again?

-> @F1.drama: Max let her win obvi.

-> ->@faia.gg: girl shut up...

@hrts414: omg Charles predicted it in the interview... it did end badly :((

Fuck. I was gonna kill Max. First, he makes it look like he gave me the win, and now, he's cheating? He's doing the contrary of what the deal's purpose was supposed to be. He's making me look so bad right now.

I furiously get up from my chair and almost knock it over, and make my way to the other side of the RedBull garage.

I spot him near his car, and when his eyes meet mine he already knows why I'm here. He motions me to follow him. We're now in his quarters, and I explode.

" Are you fucking kidding me Max? You're ruining everything for me!" I start, with emotion.

" Listen,"

" No, I won't listen, I'm not done! Did you hear what they say about my win? About me? Fake dating or not, you should say something,"

I fume.

" It's not my place to say anything..." Max stammers.

" It is! It fucking is, because you know what? You're a man. You're a fucking man and the media likes to make your voice louder than mine." I say, pointing my finger accusingly.

" That's not even true, you're overreacting. Everyone loves you, they have to, you're the only girl on the grid." He says almost rolling his eyes.

Who the fuck was he rolling his eyes to?

" Excuse me? Oh, be honest Max, did you, or did you not let me win." I say heavily.

" I... I did." he says, looking at the very interest wall.

The silence following suffocates me and my heart feels like it dropped a thousand feet. I guess that wasn't really the answer I was expecting.

" I hate you. I will always and forever fucking hate you for this, Max." I say with a shaky and cold voice.

Max's face is already contorted with guilt. I turn away without looking back.

•••

French GP - race #9

The free practices went great, and so did qualifying. P3. I could very much make something out of this position. I was going to prove to Max and everybody else that I didn't need any help to win.

With my head clearest as possible and a shaky breath, I start the engine. The first corner in France comes rather quickly, and I see Carlos in my mirrors getting closer and closer. I brake the latest possible, and make it out.

After a few push laps, I keep Carlos behind and slowly close the gap between me and Lando in front. I lose no time and overtake him from the outside, which lifts my mood up.

Next is Max.

He is more angled towards offence, which should give me an advantage.

Apparently Max had worked on his defense.

All througout the race, he braked a split second after me, tugged the steering wheel to close a path that was forming, and overall delivered a spotless, perfect race.

My thoughts were racing faster than me. He was doing this so... effortlessly. I can't believe I thought it was my efforts paying off when i overtook him back in Italy. Turns out it was just part of his game and I hadn't actually accomplished anything.

My thoughts seemed to cross the finish line faster than me as I parked the car and got up.

Acting for the camera, I jump in Max's arms and tap his helmet. I could very well manage a P2, it's a podium and good points. Something I was managing less at the moment was the growing pit in my stomach and a distant headache forming.

•••

On my way back to the garage, I see my dad appear around the corner. The pit in my stomach seems to deepen endlessly as he spots me and walks faster.

" I heard the news. You realize that win is completely worthless, stolen?" his stare is cold, and any trace of pride he had at the last Grand Prix was completely wiped off his hard face.

I want to say something. Scream, maybe? Nothing would come out. My throat has tighten to a point where I doubt I'm breathing anymore.

" I... I'm sorry." I manage to croak out, my eyes are burning with stubborn tears and I can't find one ounce of courage to look up at my dad.

He walks away without adding anything.

My nails dug in my palm and left a stinging sensation. My dad, who I had managed to impress for the first time in my life, was now turning his back on me again. He had every right, I was yet again making a fool of myself in a world I knew I didn't belong in.

I almost missed the pair of eyes watching my every move from a safe distance. How long had he been there? This was a secluded area of the paddock, and few people were around.

Leclerc's eyes burn holes through mine, and he seems to be looking at the parts of my mind I myself can't reach. With a final blink, he shakes his head and turns around.

My legs carry me stubbornly over to him, and my hand flies to his shoulder.

Taken aback, he turns around with a perplexed look.

" I don't know why you keep staring at me like I'm some fucking gum underneath your shoe, but can you please stop?" I furiously said, emotion painting my voice. Charles’ face morphs from confusion to anger.

" I can't believe you still let your dad walk all over you like that. And Max cheating! Do you not have an ounce of self respect left in you? I don't know what happened, but something changed ever since you joined that team"

" Changed!? You're the one talking to me about changing? I cannot believe you Leclerc." I spit. "Some of us actually have to make sacrifices to survive in this sport, you know?"

" Oh, I would know alright." his tone made me stepback. No, not his tone. His gaze.

His gaze was not angry anymore, it was full of regret and something more. Years ago this expression would've made me soften my voice, but like he said, things had changed.

" You're everyone's favourite. Ferrari's golden boy. You've got a supportive team ready to do everything to see you on top of the podium, and you don't have to get shit from the media when you make the slightest mistake." I accuse, but I'm not done.

" And you know what Charles? I think all of this would bother me way less if you actually treated me like a human being. Yes, maybe the media and pressure changed me, but you have nothing to excuse your shitty behaviour towards me." I fume.

He stayed quiet. He seemed to search for something to say that would make him innocent, but nothing could save him now.

“ You wouldn’t get it.” he mumbled, which I almost didn’t catch.

He takes my hand off his shoulder, which I didn’t notice was still clutching his shirt.

A thousand things seem to spill out of his head, but none of them make it to his mouth. He simply turns around and heads back to his garage.

I do the same, and opened my phone when I get to my own room.

@chloe.gal

stop because the pic of max cheating with the flowers literally makes me think of Charles when he gave Y/N some flowers after her first podium… what the hell happened between these two??

The flowers… I remember like it was yesterday. Charles had ran after me at the airport because I had to catch a quick flight, flowers and gifts in his hands. The bouquet combined my favourite colours and flowers, which was such a thoughtful gesture.

I re read the caption.

what the hell happened between these two?

Tears start to blur my vision and a wave of sorrow suffocates me, because what the hell happened between me and him? I miss our friendship so much but he seems to be doing just fine without me.

I get a text from Carlos asking me if I wanted to do something tonight and gladly accept. I had to get my mind off things for a bit.

•••

[mrsnorrizz]

Charles would be so mad if he followed Max on Instagram. Max posted a story and the location was 📌Monaco/France

[lovesickry]

- the devil is in the details.

┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.2k] ┈⋆⭒ part 6 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here!! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contents: sexism in motorsport, angst, lots of feelings, fluff?!?! not really proofread .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n:literally was emotional writing this .

you had slept surprisingly well last night, a deep, dreamless sleep. one you desperately needed. a break from your constant reminiscence of daniel.your alarm woke you up and you felt content as you got your bag ready for the day and made you coffee, grappling your paddock pass before walking out the door. walking onto the paddock was probably the most nervewracking thing you’d ever had to do, pretending to know what to do, pretending that you weren’t utterly lost and shamelessly darting your eyes around for somebody, anybody wearing mercedes kit. you found your way to the garage, by some slight miracle, discreetly trailing after a man with a mercedes shirt and headset on. sliding yourself next to the only other person you knew. the race engineer. introducing yourself and doing the necessary checkups on the cars pre-testing performance. it was only practice today, FP1 and FP2, but it was still a time to see how the car performed and if you needed to contact any mechanics or get toto involved, the calm before the storm kind of. you’d settled into the garage, then the drivers started arriving, more than ever yiu shive your head down, dreading the moment you see a trail of redbull saunter past. you do, through the gap in the computer screens and the desks and the people you see him, smiling just as you remember, bright and warm. you fought the urge to scrunch your nose, hiding your disdain. he tilts his head towards the mercedes garage and you dare to meet his eyes if he spots you, his attention is drawn quickly away by max catching up to him and striking a conversation.

you let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.

in the first practice, mercedes were leading the pack 1,2. valtteri behind lewis by 0.551 seconds. ahead of both red bulls, the whole garage was happy about that and the ferraris too.

practice 2 did not go as smoothly as you would’ve like it to, or anyone working for mercedes would’ve liked it too. started well, valtteri taking the lead, but after a few laps, the ferrari of kimi räikkönen hit him, sending him into the gravel. causing an uproar of groans from the mercedes garage as trackside engineers and mechanics had to be sent out. it continued after five minutes and didn’t do much changing to the standings. hamilton 1, bottas 3. not bad at all. and you weren’t too mad about daniels 3-place grid penalty.

the day had gone well, as well as any first day, you’d met a some other engineers and crew, but you couldn’t shake the skepticism of you belonging there. you kept telling yourself: you did belong, you did deserve it. you’d a girl named lucy, she was the only female mechanic that you’d seen and you clicked almost immediately in the short time you’d spoken, much easier to talk to someone who knew you deserved to be there, rather than someone who questioned it. she was also australia, but grew up overseas, she had a slight accent when she spoke, later she told you that she grew up in france and recently moved back to australia. you’d impulsively asked her if she wanted a lift to work tommorow and she’d nodded eagerly, admitting she hadn’t yet purchased a car only recently moving and had been catching the bus or getting an uber. figuring offering to drop her home would come off to eager, you walked towards the car park until you went your seperate ways, waving goodbye and exchanging numbers. walking back to your car, just updating yourself on what you missed that day, grace started a new job as well today and no doubt she would have something to say about it.

you hear your name from behind you, faint. you turn around briefly, head just over the left side of your shoulder. you wished you hadn’t. daniel is jogging towards you, your eyes widen as you understand the situation. concluding that turning around and walking to your car faster sounds like the soundest idea in your head. you didn’t want to run, but daniel would catch you otherwise, you ease into a much faster walk. your just about to open your car door, hand on the handle, when you feel his hand on your wrist. all too familiar, all to nostalgic. oh god. you rip your hand out of his grasp and dear to look at his face. so up close after this long.

he’s in more redbull kit, but loose jeans. he hasn’t worn skinny jeans since you got drunk and told him that baggy jeans on men were more attractive. he’s slightly puffed, and his balaclava still indenting his face, his hair messy and slightly damp. he stares at you for a bit. suddenly your aware of your closeness, stepping back, looking away. nobody speaks, it feels like forever, but it’s probably only thirty seconds of silence before you say anything.

“what is it daniel?” you say, exasperated. after all his hatred and ignoring and behaviour, he’s chasing you down after work.

“can we talk?” he asks. his voice is soft. surprisingly so.

you scoff. “why?” you shrug, getting angry now.

“why now, daniel? why not all those times in the past year where i reached out and tried so hard to make the effort and you brushed me off, not taking into account that my mum died and maybe i needed my best friend then. or somebody to be there, but instead you dissapear and then you don’t respond or leave me voicemails late at night saying weird cryptic shit. wanna talk about that daniel? talk about the fucking shit you left me in, shit that i had to deal with all by myself. 3 weeks after she died and you came over, you told me everything would be fine and i fucking believed you. i let you leave, i came to find you after the race and you were just about to fuck somebody else in your drivers room. wanna hear about that? yeah i felt sick, then you dissapeared. i wished you happy birthday daniel, i waited to hear from you. i texted you after every race, do you remember that?”

your raising your voice now, and honestly your grateful he’s not interrupting, this being something you’d wanted to get off your chest for as long as you could remember.

“i told you i was there, FOR YOU, my mum died and i was texting YOU “are you okay”. is that what you wanna talk about? - or is there something else shitty you did between that time and now?”

your voice does not waver and your chin does not wobble, you are stoic and you are profoundly proud of yourself for that fact. he’s getting on your nerves now, giving you a look of pity, you want him to get as angry as you are. you want him to react, to respond.

“well”

he’s speechless, he has no excuse and he knows it. he takes a long, shaky breath out. you look at him, looking down at the ground, begging him to say something. you’d had enough. if he wasn’t going to say something now, he wasn’t ever going to say anything.

you reach for your door handle again, getting the drivers door open and siding in, he puts his body between the door. your legs not yet in the car yet, he stands between them, looking down at you. a position reminiscent of a night you’d wish you could forgot in order to continue to forgot him. he reaches out, wanting to touch your arm. he’s aching for your skin, he’s falling apart and he needs the feeling of you against him to put him back together. you let him, too exhausted to fight back anymore. his hold on your arm is feather light and delicate, his fingers daring to move in slight patterns but he stops himself, he did not have any right to do that.

taking another breath he finally speaks.

“fuck- i- i- know dylan, okay, i know”

you wait for him to continue.

“i know i’ve been a dickhead-“

you interrupt him “still a dickhead”

he lets you, even letting out a small nearly undetectable laugh.

“yeah i know, and i’m not saying we have to be friends again okay, if you don’t want that or whatever. i’m just, when i called you and asked if you were coming to work here and then the shit i sent you after. that was shitty and i don’t want to have to ignore you or hate you from so close up, so i just-“

a breath again.

“i wanted to say that, can we be civil. i won’t talk to you or anything, i just want to be able to look at you without you looking at me like you wished i was dead.”

you’re looking at him, his features growing soft and his eyes growing sad.

“i’d never wish you were dead”

“hah” he lets out

“anyway what i’m trying to say and really dragging out now is that i’m so sorry. i left you and i dissapeared and im so fucking sorry. and i don’t know why i didn’t realise it sooner, maybe it was because i hadn’t seen you in so long that you’d almost become a figment of my imagination, but your here now.” he gestures towards you and him.

“and you’re so real, and it hurts not being able to talk to you. i know it’s all my fault and i don’t to say that. but i miss you dylan. i miss what we had, and i miss when you cared about me. i know that you don’t lo- like me anymore, but please just don’t hate me”

oh god.oh christ. oh fuck. you do care about him. embarrassingly so, you cared about him too much, positively more than he cared about you.

you open your mouth and then shut it again.

“i-“ a deep breath

“i don’t hate you. okay? i never did. it was just still painful to care about like i did.”

that was the most honest thing you’d ever said.

“and for the record, i don’t forgive you, but i can agree to the no malicious action toward eachother.”

“what can i do to make you forgive me?”

you look at him.

“time. a good reason. a proper apology, maybe then”

he squeezes your arm then, a sign of affection. you accept it blindly. and you find yourself climbing out of the car and grabbing his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. it’s like two pieces of a puzzle, the other one been missing that you’d only found one night after a few drinks and he fits perfectly against you, and he’s warm like you remeber, and he smells like you remember and he rests one hand in your hair like you remember and you rest one hand on his back and it’s warmer than it usually is, and your both breathing eachother in, deeply and wholely. trying to consume the other, letting words unsaid be said in breaths taken. his head is next to your ear when he says.

“i’ve missed you so much dylan, you can’t imagine”

he’s shaking slightly, as though your touch is causing him pain. you head nestled into his neck pulls away briefly to look at him again and repeat to him.

“i’ve missed you more than you’d ever know.”

you put your head back into his neck.

“but i cant forgive you.” you can’t let yourself, not after the mental turmoil youve put yourself through for him, because of him. he shakes harder at that comment, and you hold him tighter. tears threatening to fall. you pull away. whiplashed from the emotions seeing him and touching him that brought from you, he is flushed, tears scratch at his eyelids and there is a line between his eyebrows.

“i’ll see you tommorow, i don’t hate you, we’re okay”

it’s a shock that your voice does not crack once in that sentence. an odd string of words by all accounts to people who did not hear the conversation.

“i don’t hate you, i’ll see you tommorow and i’ll look at you nicely” he says it with a slight smile. lifting the mood slightly.

“of course you will, dork” you grin now and so does he, the smile you’d missed so much, that every person on the earth loves.

“thank god you got a new car, i’d worried you’d still be driving that poor toyota corolla” he was referring to your first ever car that you’d gotten a few years second hand and maybe had a few problems

“the mechanic had to pry it out of my dying hands”

“i believe you”

“i’ll see you tommorow”

you open the car door, unrestricted this time. you glance at him one last time and smile, he smiles back. god you’re nearly happy.

“bye dyl” he waves

the nickname slips in so easy and you relish it, the humanness of his behaviour. as soon as you leave the staff car park you’re smiling out the windshield like a fucking idiot.

[baronetcoins]

I feel like I win when I lose—Director's Commentary

In what is rapidly becoming a tradition of mine, I went on a research Bender for my Yuletide fic and there are so many details I want to point out and discuss—so I will. This year I wrote I feel like I win when I lose for @avengingmariner and I did loose my mind over it, but in a fun way. Join me in my descent into madness below the cut.

My brief was "you must put my man laurence in A Situation" and I somehow landed on the core nugget of "Napoleon finds Laurence in his darkest hour, instead of Tharkay"—mostly because NGL I haven't read further in this series than Victory of Eagles. I'm working on it, just not there yet.

From that point I just sort of... started writing and felt out where the story wanted to go, and then I kept falling into research holes. Here are some of the fun pieces of information I learned in rough order of where they popped up in the fic.

There was chicken set aside from the dinner he was supposed to have had hours ago, before an urgent missive had pulled him away—a simple roast bird, born out from what local provisions had been found

The WEEK I was working on this, Max Miller of Tasting History put out a video on Napoleon. I wasn't able to work in a lot of detail about the food here just because I couldn't make it flow into what I was writing, but there's so much I wish I could have talked about. The weird thing with chicken! Apocryphal stories about how dishes got their names! His drinking habits! The inherent whatever of breaking bread with somebody who's supposed to be your enemy! Now that I'm writing this paragraph I feel like I need to write another fic about food.

And then I Made chicken marengo the week after because I was curious. It was fine?

le mistral noir

Now this bit owes its thanks to Kangoo, my resident French correspondent. I was talking to him about what could be a nickname the French soldiers used for Temeraire, and he suggested "le mistral" which he described as "(very cold and often violent wind that blows into france from great britain, known for cleaning the sky of clouds and also wrecking your shit) (also the name of a fighter plane)" and I went "oh, that's Perfect". And I wanted to be able to explain that reference. Because it's So Good.

He blinked around at the courtyard of brick building before being hurried just as swiftly into a fine bedchamber where he was given a cold supper and the opportunity to wash himself. With little else to do, he fell into another restless sleep.

This was a fun bit of gamesmanship to think out—where would Napoleon want to set the treaty signing in order to send a message? And in order to think about that, I had to learn more about how the government of Britain worked in this timeframe (polisci major hat incoming).

In the US, authority to make treaties is vested in the executive branch, but the legislative branch has to ratify them. I did not know how that worked for the British, because their system mystefies me to this day. Luckily, I found this paper which explains how it worked in 1938, and there isn't much reason to expect it to have changed in that period, so the answer is "at least in theory, the authority rests with the Crown".

Based on that, I figured he'd want to make a point by holding it in a royal building as opposed to Westminster, so I went with St. James' palace which has been used for state stuff forever. Unfortunately, the details for the interior of St. James' are scarce. I was looking at 1860s watercolors to try and squint out a layout.

It was a dress uniform of aviator green, with gold braid and buttons as well as twin epaulettes. He dropped it as if it were a hot coal.

This was perhaps my longest diversion. I'm not intimately familiar with the internal culture of the military <understatement, but I knew having Laurence be present in any form would be read as a huge statement. So what kind of statement would you want to make? Ultimately I went with "the biggest 'fuck you' possible", so Laurence in a British aviator's uniform.

Then there was the question of fringe or no fringe. Which didn't even make it into the fic, but was an interesting diversion. You see, "captain" is a term that connotes a different level of authority in the Army vs the Navy. NATO has a standard rank scale I was able to squint at here, as it tries to standardize across branches and countries. Captain in the British Army is an OF-2 rank, but Captain in the British Navy is an OF-5 rank. What does it represent in those terms in the Arial Corps? I have no idea! This impacts nothing here other than if one or both epaulettes would have fringe on them.

He wandered the hallways, passing French soldiers who saluted him and English dignitaries who ignored him or glared at him in turn. In desperation he returned to seek refuge in the room he’d been left last.

The medal Laurence gets is that of the Légion d'honneur, and nominally military personnel in uniform are supposed to salute other uniformed personnel wearing it, regardless of ranks involved. That was too good of a detail not to gesture at.

The Wikipedia article

I picked Jacques-Louis David entirely because he's my favorite artist of this time period and location, though the fact he did official work for Napoleon was a bonus. I'm very interested in the uses of these really formalized displays of image-crafting as used for propaganda, and also it's just fun to think about. Spent ages looking at Wikipedia too to get the formatting and the style of writing right, which I think I did.

The Title

Really, it just made me laugh, so it had to stay. I mean the song is also fitting and I think it's the sentiment I wanted to gesture at emotionally, but it is also funny,

[poppletonink]

Madeline Hatter: A Playlist

Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez

Fine by Lemon Demon

space girl by Frances Forever

Wonderland by Taylor Swift

Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper

Hello Kitty by Avril Lavigne

Lollipop by The Chordettes

Teacup by Jack Stauber's Micropop

My Ordinary Life by The Living Tombstone

ME! by Taylor Swift

Tea Party by Kerli

Always Forever by Cults

So Am I by Ava Max

Here's To Never Growing Up by Avril Lavigne

Mad As Rabbits by Panic! At The Disco

Tea Errors by Jack Stauber's Micropop

Hermit The Frog by MARINA

Alice by Avril Lavigne

Wonderland by Caravan Palace

Do You Wonder? by Ever After High

[mariacallous]

Oleksandr Kryvtsov had enough.

The owner of an agricultural company in Hrakove, near Kharkiv, Kryvtsov found his land littered with land mines. That region of Ukraine, occupied by Russian forces for nearly eight months, had been pockmarked with explosive ordinances. The threat meant that farmers like Kryvtsov had to let their fields lay fallow. Even though Kryvstov’s fields were once part of Europe’s breadbasket, Ukraine’s mine clearance teams were overworked and under-resourced.

So Kryvtsov came up with his own solution. He jimmyrigged a plow onto an old tractor, with massive steel rollers underneath. On the side, he painted the yellow and blue Ukrainian flag. Kryvtsov connected a remote-control steering system and, from afar, he drove his Mad Max-style tractor over his fields, detonating any mines lurking under the soil.

The makeshift operation has worked well, Kryvtsov told Reuters, even clearing an anti-tank mine.

Kryvstov’s story is an example of incredible Ukrainian ingenuity—a nation of gilders, working to invent, adapt, and repurpose technology to defend themselves against a better-resourced, larger, determined enemy. But it’s also an ominous sign of just how bad the problem is.

In recent months, WIRED has investigated the technological challenges and opportunities facing Ukraine as it tries to defend itself and recapture its territory. One particular problem, unsung by the Western media but frequently cited by Ukrainian officials, are the haphazard minefields across Eastern Ukraine.

WIRED has spoken to a range of engineers, government officials, and humanitarian mine-clearance experts, and consulted Ukraine’s new mine clearance plan. It is apparent that Kyiv is prioritizing the problem, but without a significant new influx of money, personnel, and technology, the threat of these mines could hobble Ukraine’s economy, frustrate future counteroffensives, and pose a humanitarian crisis for decades to come.

A Humanitarian Crisis, an Economic Cost

Ukraine’s mine problem has been acute for a decade. The full-scale war with Russia has only made it worse. From 2014, when Russia first invaded, to the end of 2021, the United Nations says 312 Ukraines were killed by land mines. Since Russia’s February 2022 invasion, Ukraine has recorded at least 269 civilian casualties, including 14 children. Prime Minister Denys Shmyhal has taken to calling Eastern Ukraine “the largest minefield in the world.”

Those casualty figures only capture the deaths on territory currently held by Ukraine. Behind the front lines, in the Russian-occupied regions of Eastern Ukraine, at least a hundred more have reportedly been killed.

“Twenty percent of the whole territory is dangerous,” Ihor Bezkaravainyi, Ukraine’s deputy minister of finance, tells WIRED. “Right now we’re talking about 150,000 square kilometers.” (The total area, including water littered with naval mines, is nearly 175,000 km².)

Bezkaravainyi is a veteran of the war in Eastern Ukraine—he lost a leg to an anti-tank mine in 2016. He’s now responsible for coordinating the mine-clearance effort behind the front lines, giving Ukrainians back their property and recovering damaged agricultural lands. It’s not an easy task.

“It looks like the zone rogue in France after World War One,” Bezkaravainyi says, referring to the areas near Germany and Belgium that remain contaminated by land mines to this day.

Conducting surveys to identify those mines will be a gargantuan challenge. Actually clearing them will be even more taxing.

Russia has deployed older anti-tank and anti-personnel mines—of the kind the world has ample experience dealing with. But it is believed that this is the first time the sophisticated PTKM-1R anti-tank mine, which detonates only when it picks up a certain seismic signature, has been used in battle. Russia has also made liberal use of the more advanced PFM-1 mine, also known as the “butterfly mine,” made mostly from plastic and liquid explosive. These mines are particularly odious because they can be scattered in huge quantities from afar or from the air, meaning that they are impossible to track. Because they are colorful and plastic, they can be mistaken by children as toys.

Beyond purpose-built mines, Russia has also littered Ukraine with unexploded munitions and “improvised explosive devices and booby traps,” according to a draft version of Kyiv’s plan to decontaminate the country, prepared late last year and provided to WIRED.

Until now, Ukraine has not had a national plan on how to deal with the mine problem—its ad hoc response has been split between the military, NGOs, a small number of private mine-clearance companies, and a small network of government mine-clearance operators.

In 2021, before Russia’s full-scale invasion, Ukraine had certified just four “mine action operators” to conduct the mine identification and clearance. Since the start of the war, that number has grown to “only 23.” That number is simply “not adequate,” the plan states.

This National Mine Action Strategy was devised to bring consistency and focus to this effort. But it warns that the scope of this problem “cannot be solved in a short-term perspective.” Kyiv hopes it can assess the entirety of its lands, to identify which areas are actually contaminated and which are safe to use, by 2029. By 2033, Ukraine aspires to have decontaminated 80 percent of its previously occupied territory. The strategy does not provide a date for when the whole country might be free of mines.

If Ukraine wants to meet these goals, it will need significantly more staff, technology, and equipment than it has now.

This will be a tough hill to climb. Humanitarian demining groups are spread thin across many global conflict zones, while commercial operators tend to be prohibitively expensive.

This is the reality that pushed Kryvtsov, the farmer, to take matters into his own hands. But Kyiv warns that these “black sappers”—unlicensed and unsanctioned mine-clearance operations—are dangerous and unreliable. Still, the government recognizes that, unless it can dramatically scale up its own operations, these freelance mine operators will become a popular choice for locals frustrated by the slow pace of progress.

Like many aspects of Ukraine’s war effort, Kyiv believes the solution is at home. The strategy calls for a substantial investment in Ukraine’s industrial capacity to produce mine-clearing equipment, research demining technology, and train demining teams. The World Bank estimated in early 2023 that the total cost of identifying and clearing these mines would be nearly $38 billion. Kyiv expects the true cost will be higher.

A Military Challenge

In the snow-covered fields near the front lines, the Ukrainian Armed Forces have been deploying autonomous demining vehicles—which, although purpose-built and donated by European allies, look an awful lot like Kryvstov’s homemade version.

Since the start of the war, these military demining teams have cleared more than 280,000 mines—at a pace of more than 2,200 every week. Its work is entirely separate from the humanitarian teams run under Bezkaravainyi's department.

The military may have cleared a staggering volume, but the work is impeded by a lack of equipment. The military boasts 262 separate demining teams, but it has just six demining vehicles.

In an essay for The Economist, former commander-in-chief of the Ukrainian Armed Forces Valerii Zaluzhnyi wrote that his forces were initially relying on “technically outdated pieces of equipment” to conduct this operational mine clearance. With Western donations, “it was possible to slightly augment the capabilities of engineer units … but given the unprecedented scale of these barriers, even such capabilities are objectively lacking.”

Much of the analysis of Ukraine’s failed summer counteroffensive has focused on the offensive gear it lacks—artillery shells, fighter jets, drones, and long-range missiles. But even if it had managed to pierce the Russian front line, Ukraine faced layers of other defensive structures, including between 15 and 20 kilometers of minefields.

As Zaluzhnyi notes, Russian reconnaissance drones have kept a watchful eye on these minefields, targeting any Ukrainian teams dispatched to clear them. “In case of successful mine barriers breaching, the enemy quickly restores minefields in these areas,” he wrote.

European allies, in particular, have donated mine clearance vehicles—including retrofitted German-made Leopard 2 tanks—but they have been hard hit by Russian forces.

While clearing fields near the front lines is difficult, risky work, Russia is capable of laying these fields remotely and quickly. The ISDM Zemledeliye, a mobile mine-laying system that sits on the back of a truck, can carry 50 rockets, each filled with anti-personnel or anti-tank mines that scatter over a targeted area. The system allows the operator to lay minefields from as far as 15 kilometers away. One pro-Kremlin Russian media outlet recently remarked that the Zemledeliye, which translates to “agriculture” in Russian, “sowed” the defeat of the Ukrainian summer counteroffensive.

“The Ukrainians didn't necessarily have the equipment, the type of trained brigades, etc, to break through that defense and overcome the Russians, who were defending in a doctrinally consistent and actually quite sound way,” Karolina Hird, an analyst at the Institute for the Study of War and the deputy team lead for their Russia desk, tells WIRED. “Which brings us to where we are today.”

Even if Kyiv manages to overcome all of those other problems, if it cannot figure out how to clear the Russian-laid minefields, its progress risks being squandered.

“One of the big operational problems is, how do you increase by an order of magnitude the detection of mines, mapping of minefields, and the clearance of them—whilst denying the Russians visibility of them?” Mick Ryan, a 35-year veteran of the Australian Army who has traveled to Ukraine frequently during the war, tells WIRED. “And these are pretty significant problems, but they’re known problems, right?”

Ryan says there needs to be a deeper recalibration of the relationship between Ukraine and NATO. At the beginning of the war, the transfer of knowledge and expertise from NATO to Ukraine may have been largely one-directional, but today, Ukraine’s expertise in modern warfare certainly rivals many of its benefactors.

“Ukrainians and NATO, they just need to divide up the problems and solve them,” Ryan says. “I mean, this isn't inventing the nuclear bomb.”

The Technology

As the National Mine Action Strategy notes, research on mine clearance has been sorely lacking.

There has been, the strategy says, a “lack of systematic and centralized work on the introduction of innovative technologies in the field of Mine Action, in particular, unmanned aerial vehicles, the use of satellite images, artificial intelligence, data collection and analysis systems.”

It’s a frustration that Federica Mezzani knows well. Since 2019, she’s been researching how new technologies can help improve mine detection strategies—but it is a field, she says, which had been “completely forgotten.”

Despite the fact that an estimated 110 million mines are still active around the world, they are primarily distributed in poor and war-torn countries. While NGOs such as the HALO Trust have worked to steadily decontaminate those territories, the research and development has been piecemeal and slow. It simply hasn’t been a priority.

But Mezzani, along with her colleagues in the Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering at Sapienza University in Rome, set out to prove that new technology could help with this old problem. There had been some research testing how drones could be used to identify unexploded ordinances, but not much. Mezzani wanted to take it a step further, dispatching drone swarms equipped with ground-penetrating radar to methodically scan each section of the ground, the way a human team might. Algorithms could essentially automate mine detection, she believed.

In a series of small-scale experiments, Mezzani’s technique worked.

“The experimental campaign proved the effectiveness of the algorithm, which appears as a powerful tool to automatically detect buried objects with even small metal content,” reads her paper, published in Advances in Nonlinear Dynamics in 2022.

“The technology is ready,” Mezzani tells WIRED. “I think that it's been ready for many years, actually.”

When the full-scale war began, research efforts like Mezzani’s were few and far between. That meant figuring out these strategies from the ground up.

Part of the challenge is about confidence. As Bezkaravainyi explains, humanitarian mine clearance operates on a zero-tolerance policy for civilian deaths—if they mark a territory as uncontaminated, they must be absolutely sure it is entirely safe. Where possible, that also means defusing the land mines instead of exploding them and further contaminating the soil.

This process is significantly slower than how the military clears territory. Prioritizing speed, the army may blast a path through an active minefield in order to advance quickly without fully clearing it. To that end, humanitarian mine clearance operates on the Swiss cheese model: applying multiple imperfect strategies on top of each other.

Bezkaravainyi explains that their process normally involves consulting high-resolution satellite imagery of the territory and identifying land mines from the sky. From there, drones may be dispatched to confirm those locations and identify mines that may be buried or tough to spot. After that, teams are dispatched to sweep the territory.

Last fall, at an international conference on Ukraine’s demining efforts held in Zagreb, Bezkaravainyi’s department unveiled a prototype, developed by American surveillance technology giant Palantir, which used artificial intelligence to help inform how Kyiv approaches mine clearance.

This multilayered approach is increasingly necessary. Magnetometers and thermal scanners, which identify mines by identifying the metal amidst the organic material, were once the gold standard for mine identification. Some mines have electromagnetic shields, protecting them from ground-penetrating radar. The PFM-1 mine, in particular, contains very little metal, making it difficult to detect.

This problem is mostly, but not entirely, of Russia’s making. Reports suggest that Ukraine has also deployed these PFM-1 mines against Russian forces in Eastern Ukraine.

Difficult terrain, such as forests or mud, makes this work more difficult. Ukraine has difficult terrain in spades: It even has a word, bezdorizhzhya, for the mud that covers the eastern part of the country in the spring.

“If all the technologies in the world were given to Ukraine, it would not be enough,” Bezkaravainyi says.

An Opportunity

Ukraine is not merely contemplating how to buy and acquire enough technology to do this job—they are developing a plan to become a world leader on mine clearance.

That sort of focus has been sorely lacking for decades. “It’s a type of research that doesn't bring in profits,” Mezzani says. It’s a problem she crashed into during her own research project. “I wouldn't say that we have a technological issue. We have a willingness issue.”

Some 70 countries worldwide are still contaminated by land mines, according to the United Nations, and they kill or maim thousands every year. Most, however, are located in the Global South. The conflict in Ukraine may finally be the impetus to develop the technology and expertise to address that problem.

Indeed, Bezkaravainyi says his department has fielded plenty of offers from companies professing expertise in mine clearance, but many have been unreliable, haven’t delivered, or were outright scams.

If Ukraine can develop both the technology and the industry to do this work, it could provide a critical advantage in the war, boost its battered economy, and provide an enormous service to the entire world.

Brave1, a platform launched by the Ukrainian government to identify innovative projects and connect them to public and private financing, has identified mine clearance as one of its main priorities. Thus far, 30 projects—which range from autonomous land vehicles to more sophisticated detection systems—are part of the Brave1 platform.

If the Ukrainian government can spur the creation of a domestic demining industry, it will speed up its economic recovery, help war-torn countries the world over, and maybe even help win the war.

[harringrove-cafe]

@medusapelagia

Look who showed up for the tea party. Since you’re here, you can enjoy these Cheer Cookies and Mad Max Marmalade Milkshake.

I’ve got a riddle that I bet even you can’t solve. 

❓What is the capital in France?

[setewbro]

I was reading Madness in Civilization and came across the book Degeneration, by Max Nordau.

Degeneration was invoked to explain far more than insanity alone. All the pathologies of modern life were laid at its door: prostitution, crime, delinquency, alcoholism, suicide, epilepsy, hysteria, feeble-mindedness, the physical deformation of many of the lower classes (in reality a result of want and malnutrition) – what could not be attributed to its ravages? It was a narrative that fed into fin-de-siècle fears of national decay and decline that were particularly potent in France after the humiliation of its defeat by the Prussians in 1870–71, but felt everywhere, even in Germany itself, as Max Nordau’s book Entartung (Degeneration; 1892), vividly reflects and illustrates.37 (The book provoked much controversy – it was mocked by the Harvard philosopher and psychologist William James – and ironically, since Nordau was a Jew and a Zionist, its ideas were later borrowed by the Nazis.)

- Madness in Civilization by Andrew Scull

And this caught my attention, because it didn't surprise me at all considering the comparisons between Zionism and Nazism as ideologies. So I searched Max Nordau's name and apparently he was the Co-founder of the World Zionist Organization and also coined the term "Muscular Judaism". There's also a street called Nordau Boulevard in Tel Aviv (Occupied Palestine).

Anyways, the links between Zionism and Eugenics has been talked before by other people, so this is nothing new.

[greatpain]

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚀 #𝟷  ...  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙱𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁? 𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁  ...  **********

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚀 #𝟸  ...  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝙾𝙼 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙸𝙴𝙳? 𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁  ...  * **** ***** *** ***** *******

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚀 #𝟹  ...  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙰𝚄𝙽𝚃𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄?  𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁  ...  ********** ** ***** **** *** ******

               𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚅𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚂

𝟶𝟶𝟷.   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂   ...

⋯⋯⋯   GENERAL DETAILS.

FULL NAME:   maxime d'aureville. NICKNAME(S):   max. ALIAS:  agent vitalis. AGE:   forty2. DATE OF BIRTH:   november 23. PLACE OF BIRTH:   a small little town in northern france. CURRENT LOCATION:   apex city, washington. GENDER:   trans man. PRONOUNS:   he/him. ORIENTATION:   who the fuck knows really. ROLE:   head of biomedical,  seventeen years with mercy. EDUCATION LEVEL:   doctor of medcine and phd (in pharmaceutical sciences, specifically regarding solaris) 

⋯⋯⋯   PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

HEIGHT:   5'9. TATTOOS:   none. PIERCINGS:   none. SCARS: top surgery. STYLE:   medical professional core.  max and his patagonia jacket against the world.  turtlenecks,  cableknit sweaters,  slacks,  long jackets.  still wears his wedding ring on a chain around his neck out of habit.  DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS:   greyed early.

⋯⋯⋯   HEALTH.

ALLERGIES:   none. SLEEPING HABITS:   recently,  due to situations,  max has trouble sleeping through the night and will often forgo sleep all together.  he sleeps at his office,  not at home or in the on campus dorms.  EATING HABITS:   whenever he remembers.  is a good cook though. SOCIABILITY:   2/10.  will not speak to people if he doesn't absolutely have to. DRINKING / SMOKING / DRUGS:   sometimes,  enjoys wine   /   quit the habit when he started medical school,  picked it up again since separating from his husband   /   solaris. RADIANT STATUS:  pain manipulation. OTHER:   unexplained and undisclosed hand tremor and slight memory loss, chronic pain (pre-existing before solaris).

⋯⋯⋯   PERSONALITY.

LABELS / TROPES:   beware the quiet ones, byronic hero, cannot spit it out, child prodigy, full-name basis, the leader, perpetual frowner, properly paranoid, thousand-yard stare, feel no pain, mad scientist, self-made orphan. INSPIRATIONS:   caleb widogast (cr2),  victor vale (villains),  lee seolhwa (orv). TRAITS:   pragmatic,  analytical,  logical,  perceptive,  realistic,  evasive,  cautious,  paranoid,  contemplative,  grim,  forgetful (recent),  ambitious (previously), skittish (somewhat recent). LIKES:   rain,  white noise,  helping newer agents. DISLIKES:   talking about himself,  cold weather,  people standing in the kitchen when he was there first. WEAKNESSES:   strength-based combat,  de-escalation,  anything that involves talking to others for an extended period of time,  persuasion,  performance. STRENGTHS:   medicine,  dexterity-based combat,  planning,  readjusting upon complications,  perception,  endurance. FEARS:   fire,  abandonment. HABITS:   cracking knuckles,  keeping hands in pockets or otherwise hidden (recent),  fiddling with lighter,  clicking pen, calling people by either their agent name or full first name / doesn't often use nicknames. HOBBIES:   journaling,  caring after stray cats,  reading medical journals.

⋯⋯⋯   FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER:   anna d'aureville,  deceased. FATHER:   charles d'aureville,  deceased. SIGNIFICANT OTHER:   just divorced....  BEST FRIEND:   tba.  EXES:   ex-spouse (name tba).  SIBLING(S):   none.  CHILDREN:   none.  PET(S):   none, but he feeds the stray cats that linger around the hq and his home.

𝟶𝟶𝟸.   𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈 / 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂   … 

born and raised in a little town in france by a couple who were both teachers. very normal life, very normal things. max always held an interest in the human body, medicine, pharmaceuticals, etc and did what he could to learn more. the d'aurevilles were literally the perfect family... kind loving caring etc etc.

[ parental death tw, fire tw ] when he was a teenager, he left a space heater on when he went out with some friends. unfortunately the wiring / circuitry in the house was old and not up to code and the whole thing ended up burning down overnight with his parents still inside. unfortunately they didn't make it.

maxime moved across the world to live with his dad's younger brother, wife, and their three kids in washington, usa. became incredibly reserved and closed off during this time for obvious reasons. through himself into his studies further.

ended up graduating top of his class in highschool, worked as an EMT during college (during which he was forced to confront literal fires quite a few times and never really was able to deal with that considering the guilt he's been carrying, but he trudges on!), and went to a very well ranked medical school for an md/phd program. particularly he was interested in solaris and the true effects of it on the human body. eventually this + the past he ran away from + his time as an emt + some other stuff i can't think of right now caught the eyes of mercy, and he joined as a junior agent while he completed his medical degree & residency.

after being placed in the biomedical division, he felt that it would be unfair of him to be administrating solaris without having taken it himself. there was no way he could anticipate what would happen, and while at times he regrets the whole thing, he understands that what he did benefits everyone around him as he is able to help relax patients and relieve their pain when needed.

met his husband, an agent in another division, when he was around 35. they hit it off pretty instantly and got married a little over a year later (read: they went to the courthouse and signed papers and called it a day. no one has time to fuck around with all that when theyre mercy agents). they were married for five and a half years, and have been divorced for some months now. while they both claim it was a mutual decision, it probably wasn't, but max isn't gonna say shit about it.

part of the reason max brought up separation was that he noticed some strange memory loss effects & a hand tremor for himself which was... disconcerting. he's the head of the department for fuck's sake, he has to keep it together. overall, pretty selfish of a decision, but it wasn't made overnight. he weighed the pros/cons and made a list (it took up approximately a quarter of a new journal) and came to the conclusion that it is more valuable for him to figure out why this is happening while balancing his duties as head than it is for him to worry about his husband whenever there's a mission. stupidest doctor you will ever have the displeasure of meeting.

skittish, evades questions like its an olympic sport. can get a little emotional pretty easily which is Not fun for anyone within his vicinity (see below). cares for cats more than he cares for himself. having a terrible fucking time always and it's obvious. practically lives in his office. does not want to be head of the department but alas, he still has the ambition he had when he was younger and is somehow determined to not let teenage maxime down.

𝟶𝟶𝟹.    𝚁𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂   ...

max can freely manipulate prexisting pain by increasing or decreasing how much pain he, or someone else, is feeling.  through practice, he has learned how to induce pain from nothing, but it's much more difficult, energy draining, and often overwhelms him with pain as well.  it is much more effective to amplify preexisting pain. no physical contact is required, as long as he has eyesight with the person / people he is effecting.  can transfer his own existing pain to others, but it's an unstable process.  is able to create a subconcious aversion to his presence, if he really wants to, by inducing very subtle amounts of pain within people around him. 

unable to control this while asleep or uncious, and nightmares or other such strong dreams can cause him to unintentionally induce a level of pain within anyone in his vicinity.  

can't permanently remove pain, but he can temporarily alleviate pain that a person is feeling.  often, he has to take that pain on himself.

hair went grey shortly after taking solaris because of the stress of the pain he was feeling as he wasn't able to properly control or understand his ability.

max attributes his hand tremor and moments of memory loss to his solaris intake / radiant status,  though he's told no one else about this and intends to keep it this way.

𝟶𝟶𝟺.   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂   ...

updated soon... prommy

[soleillunne]

OKAY OKAY SO!! do you have any book recs?? i want to get back into reading, it feels like i've mostly been focused on writing these days

i have a bunch but most are fantasy!

the folk of the air trilogy - holly black

enemies to friends-ish to enemies to lovers, mc is a badass and the li is so in love (hes also a menace but mc kinda covers that lmao)

this is a 3 book series with a new series that just dropped that happens after the events of these 3 books

the order is: the cruel prince, the wicked king, the queen of nothing, stolen heir (the new book) but there are also books you can read in between (that i havent read myself)

by far the best book series ive read, i would sell my soul to read it again for the first time

circe - madelline miller

this is a story about circe, a godess (i think) from greek myth. the writing was beautiful, but since its myth, if youre not interested i dont reccomend

(same goes w song of achilles by the same writer)

shadow and bone & six of crows - leigh bardugo

(this one has a two season series on netflix too if youre interested)

shadow and bone - 3 books;

mc is so op honestly, she discovers magical powers early in the book and finds out shes grisha (ppl that have magical powers), but not just any grisha, shes a legend grisha, one of a kind

i dont really remember who she ends up with as its been a while since i read the books but one li is an ass while the other gives golden retriever vibes and i didnt like either of them /lh

six of crows - 2 books;

now listen, i didnt actually read these two books but in the tv show the two series are shown at the same time and i like the characters in this one more

badass gang, thats it. (look more info pls dont trust me)

the kane chronicles - rick riordan

percy jackson is so famous people forget this absolute gem right here.

the idea is the same as percy jackson, except this time its about egyptian gods instead (also techically mc isnt a child of the gods)

it has 3 books, with extra crossover books w pjo (that are also really good once you have the basics)

the midnight library - matt haig

i'm actually not sure what category this falls into.

mc has an accident and ends up at a library at exactly midnight, where the weird librarian tells her that this library is her life (of sorts). basically each book in the library is how her life couldve been like based on some decisions she made

and she keeps going to these other versions of her life by reading the books until she realizes hey, she wants to live, and goes back to her original life

not my favorite, but still an okay one

dune - frank herbert

this is a classic, but it was really good

i dont remember the details, all i really remember was that i had sth for the mc

fr tho its really good, give it a go if long books dont intimidate you

as for books to get into reading again, hmmm

cries okay so dont get mad but the cruel prince got me out of a reading slump

momo - michael ende

this book is so well written istg

mc is a child, first of all. and i dont mean like a teen i mean shes 8 max, shes a literal child but its okay bc there isnt that much action in this one

the main idea of the book is about how precious time is, but its told through such an interesting way. there are time thieves that steal other people's time to live, making it look like theyre helping people save time on mundane things, and momo stops them (not in an insane way i promise)

the secret garden - frances hodgson burnett

this is a classic, but dont let that fool you this is a really well written book

this one has almost no action in it btw

mc is also a child here (shes maybe 12 at most), she moves into the mansion of her uncle after her family dies where she starts to behave like an actual child instead of some spoiled princess/lh

so one day while going on a stroll in the garden area (?) bc no one is there to take care of her now, she finds a secret garden and decides hey since no one seems to care for this garden, this is mine now

also there are other children that she befriends along the way that help her w the garden

def recommend

extra;

anne of green gables (this is so long honestly i ended up just watching the series bc the fact that its 8 books intimidated me at the time - ill get to it eventually)

miss peregrines home for peculiar children (also same as above - i loved the concept tho and ill read it eventually)

percy jackson - a classic

Jayden's Rescue & Old Scroll - vladimir tumanov (these are techincally chrildrens books but theyre also great books so)

[spite-and-waffles]

YOU GUYS. There's a Tintin spoof in Teen Titans Spotlight #11!

It's Spotlight on Brotherhood of Evil. Warp teleports himself, Brain, Mallah, Phobia out of a shoot-out in France and accidentally get transported to an alternate universe. Getting hit by one of the assassin's lasers had scrambled Warp's brain and he now he can't remember how to get back. Before they can work the problem, they immediately get caught in a kerfuffle between some weird mutant people and a redhead riding a wolf. They manage to dispatch the mutant people in short order.

It's Captain Haddock and Professor Calculus!

Apparently, in this world, things went pear-shaped after Explorers On The Moon.

The moon landing year given is the same one as when the story first started being published in serialised form, a full 14 years before the real moon landing happened. I find it interesting that Herge very deliberately left out any fantastical or impossibly sci-fi elements, making what was a futuristic story for its time feel incredibly grounded in reality, but this comic takes an international intrigue plot and goes entirely bananas.

SNOWY WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU

GENERAL RASTAPOPuOULOS!

Tintin & The Mad Max Fury Road!

The Brotherhood decide to help out just to survive and steal the tech they need to unscramble Warp's powers from the Ark to get home. With Brain and Mallah leading the show, Tin and the freedom fighters take the citadel and bitchslap Rastapopoulos. Predictably, he tries to pull a Lex Luthor on Tin.

Apparently villains hate listening to other villains monologuing.

They're reunited with Professor Calculus. Aww.

Mallah's reaction to self-sacrificing heroic bullshit is so funny. And relatable tbh. 😂

When everything's done and dusted it turns out the whole thing was orchestrated by Dr. Mist with the help of French intelligence as a social experiment or something. Neat twist, but meh.

Incidentally I pity everyone who didn't grow up reading the Tintin comics. It's truly a timeless, all-ages series with no pandering or infantilization. Explorers is my favourite book after Red Rackham's Treasure. It's art and writing calibre is a stark contrast with this pulpy '80s DC comic. Though ngl, I missed seeing Thompson and Thomson.

[toomanystacksofbooks]

osemanverse halloween headcanons 🥰:

- charlie & nick go as simon and wilhelm one year, and another year they go as achilles and patroclus per charlie’s request

- i would like to once again bring up tara & darcy as korrasami because i simply NEED IT in my life, also one year tara goes as sara from otgw and darcy goes as adam sandler… not a couples costume but i digress

- elle & tao have gone as every major duo in every wes anderson film. period.

- aled likes dressing up for halloween and, shockingly, so does dan; one time they went as greg (aled) and the frog jason funderburker (dan) with frances tagging along as beatrice and raine as wirt, another year they go as jon & martin from tma, and another year dan insist they go as mad scientists

- georgia & the loveless gang as six of crows (georgia is inej, jason as matthias, pip as wylan, rooney as nina, sunil as kaz, and they get some random person to be their jesper because they couldn’t leave him out)

- pip & rooney separately deserve a bullet so here it is: evelyn and celia from evelyn hugo, max and eleven, and ophelia and hamlet (duh)

- jimmy, rowan, & lister go as alvin and the chipmunks one year, the power puff girls, finn, jake, and bmo ofc; jimmy & lister go as a sexy angel (jimmy) and devil (lister) one year

- tori & michael as emily and victor from the corpse bride, lydia deetz and beetlejuice another year, and another year as each other