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coochiequeens · 7 months

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Well this is an interesting turn of events

By Nuria Muíña García February 21, 2024

EDITOR’S NOTE: A previous version of this article incorrectly referred to one of the parties in this case as a “woman.” This article has been amended after new, previously-unavailable information was released clarifying that both parties in the case are in fact trans-identified males.

The Barcelona High Court has sentenced a trans-identified male to six months in prison after he was found guilty of committing a crime “against fundamental human rights and public freedoms” for posting “transphobic” comments on social media. The man, who has not been named, has also been ordered to pay a fine of 3,850 Euros (approx. $4,161 USD).

The comments were made in 2020 when the man, who will be anonymously referred to as P.O., took to social media to complain about a transgender influencer. While Spanish media did not release the influencer’s name, Reduxx has learned he is Violeta Ferrer Micó, an ex-prostitute and trans activist.

Last summer, Ferrer Micó organized and led a tour of Barcelona, called a “Trans Whoretour,” highlighting key areas where the sex industry had thrived. The tour was organized with the support of the trans theater company TiritiTrans Trans Trans Trans.

In his post, P.O. called Ferrer Micó a “prototype of a faggot with tits,” and stated “he can’t stand that I’m a woman and has a pathological dislike for me.” P.O.’s contention was that he believed he was a “real woman” because he had undergone genital surgery, while Ferrer Micó was not “genuinely” transgender because he had not.

The post reached Ferrer Micó’s work WhatsApp group and he claims that he was “outed” by them and suggested that no one had known he was transgender prior to P.O.’s remarks.

According to statements Ferrer Micó made to Newtral at the time: “From then on, I felt I had to give explanations about my gender identity. Everyone at work found out through Twitter that I never had genital surgery.”

Violeta Ferrer Micó.

Ferrer Micó reported P.O.’s post to X (formerly Twitter) and then filed a criminal complaint.

A Barcelona court ordered an ��internet radicalism” task force to investigate P.O.’s social media and analyze his comment history to find further “publications that indicate animosity towards the group to which the victim belongs.” The subsequent report determined that the accused man was “not only belligerent with transgender women who are not operated, but also with the LGTBI collective.”

Their evidence included statements he had made in opposition of the Trans Law, which was legislation recently implemented in Spain to make changing an individual’s legal name and gender marker significantly easier. The investigation also found that between February and October of 2020, P.O. had posted several statements on Facebook, Instagram, and X in which he “denied transgender people without genital reassignment the gender with which they identify.”

Other messages that were found to be criminally transphobic included him stating that “there are only two sexes,” and that “transwomen are transvestites.” P.O. also said that “[the trans] community makes me feel infinite disgust.”

The court ruled that the “transphobic messages” had resulted in Ferrer Micó being “exposed” to his friend and work circle as a trans-identified male, suggesting that it had not been obvious or known before.

Spanish women’s rights advocates have cast doubt on that aspect of the case on social media, with one user, @OcheRadfem, asking “does anyone believe that they didn’t know he was a man? Are all the people he works with blind and deaf?”

When handing down the sentence, as reported in El Periódico, the court ruled that “the derogatory statements regarding gender identity … reflect the contempt [he] feels towards the group of transgender people who have not undergone genital reassignment surgery, and show, by questioning the gender (of the victim), a clear desire to inflict ridicule, and managing to generate [in the victim] feelings of humiliation to the detriment of [his] dignity.”

P.O. accepted the sentence imposed after coming to an agreement with the prosecution and declining to defend himself.

The court decided to suspend his six-month prison sentence on the condition that he pay the victim 3,850 Euros in compensation for the “emotional damages caused.” He must also take a course on equal treatment and non-discrimination. Failure to do so could lead to incarceration.

In addition, P.O. is disqualified from holding employment in any profession in the fields of teaching or sports for three and a half years.

The law firm who assisted in the man’s prosecution boasted of their victory on social media. The firm, Olympe, specializes in LGBTQ+ matters. According to their website, they identify as feminists, LGTBIQ+ and antiracists.

Speaking to Reduxx on the case, Spanish psychologist and author Carola López Moya, raised concerns about the fact that the media had previously referred to one of the parties in the case as a “woman,” stoking confusion and outrage. Moya is the author of “The Sect,” and was previously sued by trans activists who sought to have her removed from her profession for 5 years.

“This is an example of how the use of language far removed from biological reality generates confusion,” she said. “News media should have been talking about two males who self-identify as women from the beginning.”

On the case itself, Moya disregarded the argument between the two men as nonsensical.

“That a man believes that by amputating his genitals he is a woman… it is a sample of the dissociation that this doctrine fosters,” she said. “It instills in people a belief that it is possible to truly change their sex, and it is not.”

#Spain #Barcelona High Court #Calling a bio male a man is crime against fundamental human rights and public freedoms #Violeta Ferrer Micó is a TIM with a history of prostitution #TiritiTrans Trans Trans Trans #Trans Whoretour #TIMs glorifying ways women have been abused #I have a feeling the women around him knew #They were just too polite or too afraid of being called hateful #Trans Law #Olympe

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emojireviewpage · 1 year

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😓 Cold sweat face emoji review 😓

Apple: They feel sorry about something that has happened to them. This is my face when I tell my mom I failed a test. The highlights look expensive, like so shiny as a gem. I wish we could help this buddy to make it feel better. Sorrowful expression. The mouth does look a bit fake though. 8/10 Everything is gonna be OK.

Google: What happened? The eyes and the mouth are too close, but honestly, I don’t mind it because it makes the emoji look more expressive. The sweat tear shine though. 6/10 the shine could be more blended or centered.

Samsung: This emoji is feeling like they are guilty. The eyes are upside down and it’s a nice change. The tear is rendered decently as there are gradients and a little shine. Good shading too. The mouth looks weird. Does not look natural at all. 8/10 you fucked up the mouth.

Microsoft: They straight up believed something was wrong with their job and now they feel worried about their future. The tear is a big NO. 4/10 it’s awful.

WhatsApp: Sincere expression. I think they were told that they didn’t perform good on the show and now they are pissed off thinking they could had passed. The shading in this one is better. 9/10 Can I help you?

Twitter: Holy shit. Its eyes are so close. Honestly, I can’t focus on this emoji that much because I mix up the placement of the eyes and the mouth. It seems like they placed the mouth wrongly or, Is it just me? 3/10 feel sad about them though.

Facebook: So here we have this one with the overwhelming shading and the blueish eyes that have a weird shape. I can see it’s an artistic choice though. They look sad enough, maybe their dog stepped on a bee? 7/10 I LOVE the tear though.

Twitter emoji stickers: Weird shading. The tear looks cute, but the emoji looks sort of textured, which is a little strange. I don’t really love this, but I love the highlights on the emoji. They probably laid too much on their sofa that now their head hurts. 7/10 I expected better.

Joypixels: All of these emojis look kind of similar. The mouth and the eyes are bugging me a little. I can’t really explain, but I guess it is the fact that they nearly have the same shape. I like the tear because it looks smooth. Did you forgot your own bag in your house? 6/10 you can take it. There is no one at your house.

TossFace: I can’t believe I’m going to rate a TossFace emoji high. I like the white tear and the emoji looks cute. Feel better, take a big rest. 6/10 Good rest!

Openmoji: This doesn’t look good. Sorry. 2/10 the face looks too high.

Emojidex: My favorite expression. I just love their “Ohhhhh” expression so much. I like the tear so much. 9/10 This emoji got tanned too much though.

Messenger: They are really experimental with the perspectives. The emoji itself looks wobbly like a slime. Maybe they had mistaken twins, so they want to apologize. 5/10 Looks edible like jelly.

LG: Looks good enough. Feels sad. Good shading. 8/10 Just really good.

Thank you! 💗

I’m sorry for gramatical errors 😓 I’m from spain.

#Emoji review #Emojirating #emoji #sad #apologize #fyp #fyp page #coldsweat #emojireviews #reviews #post #emotes

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typingrose · 9 months

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7th January 2024, Sunday.

Harini I’m on my period yang ke day-3. My period only bleeds during day-1 sahaja. Hari kedua takde darah sangat, dan hari ketiga dah darahless. I’m a little horny during this period sebab my husband and i spent few days dah at my parents house, and husband work non stop. I tak dapat spent enough time with him during the night sebab dia after main game terus tidur. Sometimes i had to fuck myself during sleep sebab husband wont entertain me at night. What can i do? I dah hint ajak dia pun dia penat lah apa lah. I pun malas nak pujuk sebab itu badan dia, dia nak kerja.

Now dia dah resign, dia tetap dengan game dia. I hint him several times to have sex tapi macam kehendak aku seperti biasa, tak dilayan. Dah beberapa situasi i try to lancap him, ingat he would fuck me. Sebab dia dah nak climax, lepastu dia tarik tangan aku and stop me. Terus tidur. Aku macam wtf? Aku dah lah mudah terasa hati. Tu situasi malam ye time nak tidur dalam gelap. Petang tadi pula, kat sofa pun camtu. Memula dia dah ajak nak fuck, lepastu bila tengah lancap cam biasa, dia tarik tangan aku keluar, dia kata sakit. And i was like sakit? Ganas sangat ke? Padahal aku buat normal, no ganas. Alasan dia memang cam tak make sense. Terus aku turn off. But the thing is, sejak dua menjak asyik layan movie 18sx tapi macam takde nafsu pada isteri sendiri. Ringan2 pun dia reject.

Time dia tengah tidur tadi 8pm lebih, aku masak dinner. Msg masuk, aku nampak si Tasneem MDT whatsapp dia. Setahu aku, dah resign pun si member tu lebih awal dari acap. Kenapa masih berborak lagi eh mereka? Apa lagi yang laki aku nak tahu tentang MDT sedangkan dia sendiri sudah berhentikan diri dari bekerja kat situ. Sudah2 lah, bila dah resign dan dibayar gaji. Aku cuba untuk not feel anything about text tu. But bila aku dah nak start makan, aku turn off betul bila laki aku time tu juga nak main game. Aku memang perli je dengan muka selenge. Dia pi letak aku duduk lantai, aku macam kenapa suruh bee duduk lantai? Selama ni kan duduk di sofa. Aku tahu dia hangin dengan jawapan aku yang selalu nada soalan bunyi sarcastic. Aku kisah apa, aku hairan dengan peel dia yang aneh2. Pastu pi bantai main game while we supposed to eat dinner. Lauk makanan semua depan mata ni. Aku dah marah, aku cakap patutnya suami suap isteri. Dia balas dengan macam mana dah ada nasi ni (which dah dituang atas pinggan masing2). Laaa pula, aku tak faham kenapa dengan dia. Dah marah bila dia main game, aku tanya kenyang ke? Dia kata japgi dia makan. Sampai ke sudah aku habis makan, dia still dengan game dia. Aku pun diam jela buat muka.

Laa ni aku dah duduk kat katil, aku cakap nak tidur sedangkan baru pukul 10:30pm. Dia diam tak cakap apa, tak pujuk tak apa. Aku pun berlalu pergi dan menangis dalam diam. Hmm entahlah penat aku makan hati sensorang dapat ujian sebegini. Aku nangis aku doa kenapa Allah bagi aku ujian suami aku peel camni. Aku suruh Allah bagi aku kekuatan untuk tidak fikir yang tak baik tentang suami aku. Aku memanglah marah akan suami aku. Tapi aku tak boleh nak cerita pada dia. Aku mohon Allah sendiri sedarkan diri dia. Sebab time aku menangis di atas. Aku dengar yang dia masih repeat cerita 18sx bahagian sex yang aku tersalah buka tu. Haih tah lah pape jela. Aku harap nafsu aku hilang bila ada kehadiran laki aku waktu dia tengah menyangap. Tak kuasa aku nak layan lelaki dayus.

Dia tahu je aku tengah moody ngan dia. Dia naik atas and tak peluk. Malah termenung dalam gelap menantikan aku bergerak dari my comfort position tidur tu. Kelakar en, dasar ego tak sedar diri yang diri salah. Kalau rasa isteri tu tak perfect, tengok kelakuan hang sendiri. Apa yang buat bini hang marah. Bodoh piang

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detroit-grand-prix · 2 years

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Wildest Dreams Chapter 21 - mad woman, part 1

Chapter summary: The first half of Bee's first F1 season brings mixed results, and doubt starts to creep in. An issue with the car that needs to be dealt with.

Content warning: N/A

Chapter word count: 4,636

Author's Notes: When I wrote this chapter, I had read an interesting interview with Jamie Chadwick about modifications and physical limitations of (average) female drivers, which may come in to play when we have a woman reach the grid. And it's absolutely true that even road cars are not designed or tested for women, but I feel like at least in F1, this is a systemic problem - they make modifications for drivers that are too short or too tall, so I feel like it would be possible to modify a car for a female driver. They've made modifications for Yuki Tsunoda, who is 5'2", the same height as Bee.

Red Bull Ring, Spielberg, Styria, Bezirk Murtal, Austria July 6th, 2020

After Bee finished her first Formula 1 race, she felt a giddy adrenaline high for hours afterward. Through all of the phone calls with her parents, with Susie, through the celebratory dinner that Emilia made, she felt fine. But, by the time she’d gone to bed on Sunday evening, her back, neck, and shoulders felt so stiff that she could barely stand up straight. She took some nurofen and tried to stretch a little and figured she’d feel better after a good night’s sleep.

That was not the case. She could barely move. It took her almost five minutes for her to get out of bed.

She sent Emilia a WhatsApp message and told her how bad it was, and asked what she should do. Emilia responded and told Bee that she would be right over.

“Well, you are really seized up. If it took you that long to get out of bed, I doubt we’ll be able to get you over to the garage where my massage table is, so we’ll have to make do right here.”

Having Bee lie on her bed wasn’t ideal, with it being so soft, but Emilia thought it would be easier than trying to get Bee onto the floor.

“Well… I think you’re in for a rough day.” Emilia said, palpating the tender cords of muscle around Bee’s back. We’ll just try and minimize inflammation and have you rest for today. I’ll get my kit and some ice packs from the garage, and then you’re going to take it easy.”

She returned about 10 minutes later, carrying a box that contained what looked like an overly large ice pack and a few rolls of KT tape.

“Do you have a favorite color, for the tape?”

“Not blue.” She wore enough blue as it was.

“Pink, then.”

“Perfect.”

Emilia laid the ice pack across Bee’s back, over the shirt she was wearing. It felt good. She thought about the cooling vest that she wore during hot-weather races, but imagined that it didn’t get cold enough to ease pain and inflammation.

“I ran into Aleix while I was over there - I think that’s his name, George’s performance coach? In the garage. He said George went through this last year for his first couple of GPs, but he just had to build up to it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s unfortunate.” Bee didn’t actually remember George being in so much pain when they went to Australia last year.

“There’s only a week between races, and last year there were two weeks between them. I don’t understand, I did more laps at winter testing than I did yesterday and felt fine.”

“Well, winter testing was before you had an unexpected three month break, you probably just deconditioned more than you realized. Tomorrow, we can try some trigger point massage. That will help. Today is for rest and minimizing inflammation.”

After 20 minutes of icing, Emilia applied a web of KT tape across Bee's shoulders and upper back, and helped her get up to sit at the table and eat something.

“Do you want me to stay here and keep you company?” Emilia said, as she was helping Bee back into her bed. “I don’t have any other plans today with you… what’s the English expression… ‘out of commission’?”

“If you want to. It’s up to you, and I certainly won’t say no to having company.” Bee said. “I was just going to read, and probably nap. And then we have the all-team debrief this afternoon, but we were doing that by Zoom anyway. But… please don’t feel obligated, if you want to go enjoy having a day off.”

“I’ll stay. I don’t know what else I’d rather be doing anyway.” Emilia said with a smile.

They chatted companionably for a while with Bee sitting up at the head of her bed with her back against the wall of the motorhome, and Emilia sitting at the foot of the bed. Eventually, Emilia made lunch for the two of them and left Bee to take a nap before the team debrief.

She felt a bit better the next day, at least enough to get over to the garage so she could lie down on Emilia’s massage table and not on her bed. Emilia carefully took the tape off of her back did some release of her “trigger points”, whatever those were - they just felt like knots to Bee. Emilia used intense, focused massage to release them. Emilia had incredibly strong hands, and Bee was close to crying a few times, but she felt a lot better afterward.

Emilia re-applied KT tape to her neck and back after she’d finished up. “We should have put some on this past weekend after all. We’ll make sure to do it before your sessions this weekend.”

Bee had started feeling better at the end of the week, but qualifying day had brought heavy rain. It delayed the start of qualifying by almost an hour. Bee was nervous - it had been a long time since she’d driven in wet conditions. Wet qualifying was especially precarious - in some cases, you needed to push harder during qualifying than during a race.

Everyone was aquaplaning, but there was no major incident until an Alfa Romeo lost control into Turn 7. George was able to push through and make it to Q2, but Bee only managed to get 18th. She was honestly just happy that she didn’t end up in the wall.

The rain had cleared up by the morning of the race, which Bee was thankful for, though it may have been advantageous to Williams’ points chase to have rain - Bee wasn’t entirely confident in the rain, but George was excellent at it. Bee joked with him that it was because he grew up racing in awful English weather, and she didn’t.

Bee and Emilia did their usual warmups, but Emilia spent extra time on trying to loosen up Bee’s neck and shoulders.

“You’re still a little tight today, but not like you were at the beginning of the week.”

Bee hissed a little bit as Emilia kneaded the heel of her palm into her trapezius muscles. “Are you sure your harness or seat doesn’t need to be adjusted or something?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Why? Everything felt fine during my last seat fitting."

“Well… I know they try to build the cockpit around you in the cars and the seat itself is custom-molded, but… if everything was fitting you the way it should be, I don’t think you would’ve had this much trouble. You’re also the shortest driver by a long shot, and the other driver on your team is one of the tallest. I think maybe you’re trying to adjust yourself while you’re driving to see better, or something, and it’s causing all of this strain. I’ve seen this kind of injury before during my internship. Every time, the patient was a shorter woman, and they get this kind of strain because they’re always having to stretch their necks to see over the hood of their car. Believe it or not, a booster sort of… cushion is recommended in those cases.”

Bee thought about it. It could just be strain from not racing for several months, but she knew she worked every bit as hard as other drivers during the break to stay in fighting form, and they didn’t seem to be experiencing the same issues as she did, at least not to the same degree. Maybe the long break just compounded with an issue with her harness or the ride height of her seat that hadn’t been quite so noticeable before.

It was just one more irritating concession, one more adjustment she had to make, one more sign that she was a square peg in the round hole of the motorsport world. For another example, she was the only one on the grid that had to wear a bra under her fireproofs. Her Williams fireproofs were white, and a little bit on the transparent side. Her breasts were fairly small, but not wearing a bra was uncomfortable because of where all of the belts and harnesses laid across her chest. She used to just wear a regular beige sports bra under her gear, but she started wearing a fireproof Nomex bra when she started testing for Williams to avoid running afoul of FIA homologation requirements for clothing. The problem was that most fireproof Nomex bras that were available were black, so in most lighting conditions, you could see her bra showing faintly through her fireproof undershirt. It was a little embarrassing, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“I’m not sure what can be done about it right now, but I’ll mention it to the engineers when we get back to England. They have more tools and materials in the factory, and can re-fit my seat there if they need to.” Bee said.

Next week they’d be in Hungary, so there was no time to head back to the UK before then.

It was not a bad race. Neither George nor Bee could claw their way into the points, but it was close again - George in P12 and Bee in P13. However, there was no denying that Williams’ performance, overall, was on the upswing from last year. It had a noticeable effect on the energy in the garage, too. Last year, it was incredibly dour most of the time, like the team had never recovered from the shame of arriving to testing two days late.

But going into Hungary, they were energized, like a fresh spring breeze had swept through the garage. Bee and George talked about it - he’d noticed, too. For both of them, it was good motivation - the Williams staff were all wonderful people, and they deserved to see the fruits of their hard work instead of fighting at the back of the grid. Of course, every team worked hard, but this was still racing.

Bee’s neck and shoulders still hurt after Sunday, but not quite as badly. Even without any adjustments, at least the extra support offered by the tape helped a bit. Now that Emilia had called her attention to it, Bee did notice that she was straining her neck for a lot of the race, especially on straights, to see over the nose of the car. She also noticed that she had to stretch her legs a bit for the pedals. She wasn’t sure if it could be brought forward because of how the seat was bolted into the car’s monocoque, but solving the issue of height would probably do wonders.

When they arrived in Hungary and started setting up the garage, Bee pulled one of the engineers aside.

“I don’t know if this is possible, but… can my seat be adjusted a little, as far as the height goes, or would that be a significant disadvantage as far as our times go?”

“Hmm… we could probably bolster it a bit. Not by much, but it shouldn’t have too much of an effect since you’d still be behind the halo. Why?” He said.

“I think it’s just… I don’t know, I feel like I’m having to stretch a lot to see over the dash, and it’s putting a lot of strain on my neck and shoulders, and with the long break, it’s been way more noticeable than it used to be.”

“Oh, yeah, I suppose that is a concern.” The engineer said. “I don’t know if we can do much about it right now, but once we’re back at the factory, we can definitely take a look. And we can re-fit your seat if we need to, when we’re back there.”

Bee was a little bit worried that her concern would be dismissed, but it wasn’t. It felt nice.

Hungary was another wet race. Qualifying had very light showers, so there was no need for intermediate or wet tyres, and finally - finally her and George had both made it out of Q1 and into Q2. They were both eliminated in Q2, but it was Bee’s highest grid placement yet, and according to Gaetan, the first time both of the Williams had made it out of Q2 since 2018.

Even so, Bee made a poor strategy call regarding tyre choice later on, opting to stay on intermediate tyres far longer than she should have, which dropped her back down to 16th. Gaetan asked her if she wanted to pit for slicks, but she was sure the track wasn’t dried off enough yet. She still wasn’t sure how far she should go to take risks - feeling out risk versus reward was something that would only come with experience, and she didn’t have much of that yet.

It wasn’t an ideal result, but for the third race of the season, she was still mostly glad she hadn’t managed to shunt the car yet. George once just outside of the points once again, finishing 11th.

On the bright side, she told herself, her neck didn’t hurt quite as much after.

After they returned to the UK ahead of the Silverstone doubleheader, the engineers were able to cut a new base for her seat, and re-molded a new seat for her. They also made a different pedal case that ensured she wouldn’t have to try and stretch so much to reach the pedals. Things felt better the instant she sat down in the car after the engineers had made their fixes. She was surprised that she hadn’t noticed how poorly things were, but that was something else that would come with experience. Doing free practice and test sessions didn’t really give her the same sort of feel for the car as an actual race would have, which is why she could tell the difference now.

One they’d returned to the UK, Emilia also started some more work on strengthening Bee’s back muscles to support better posture - they’d focused so much on her neck in trying to get her back in shape during the long break that things were getting a bit out-of-balance. The factory gym was still closed, so they did some pilates mat exercises in Bee’s apartment in Oxford.

It was strange to be back in the apartment after so long - nothing had really changed, as she’d thrown away anything perishable before she left and didn’t have any houseplants left to die of neglect, but there was a pretty significant coating of dust all over everything. That was easy enough to take care of.

The special helmets she’d ordered had also arrived - one for the German Grand Prix, and one for the Italian Grand Prix at Monza.

The doubleheader at Silverstone was strange. The first race was somewhat of a disappointing performance for Bee. She qualified dead last and was buoyed to 15th in the race by a few retirements and a decent overtake on Romain Grosjean. The next week was another race, named as the “70th Anniversary Grand Prix”. Qualifying took place on her birthday, which was a stark reminder of how strange the timing of this season had become - for the past few years, her birthday always took place in the middle of the summer shutdown.

The Williams staff had a very small celebration for her birthday after qualifying, though, with some cake and ice cream. George brought her a “Colin the Caterpillar” cake, which apparently was somewhat of a tradition for British children’s birthday parties. It was a swiss roll cake with a chocolate shell, candy dots, and a white chocolate face and feet. She’d seen them before in Marks & Spencer but hadn’t realized it was some sort of tradition. She’d qualified 15th to George’s 12th, and placed 19th to George’s 18th. It wasn’t an ideal home race for Williams, but the team was still optimistic, and so was Bee - she didn’t know how her luck would play out compared to her past racing seasons, but after Spa and Barcelona was Monza.

At Spa, the team motorhomes were back in the paddock, which meant that Emilia was freed from her cooking duties - having access to the team motorhomes meant having team kitchens and kitchen staff again. Also, they had access to proper driver rooms again instead of having to use a makeshift space with temporary walls in the team garages.

Bee loved the Williams’ motorhome - it was all pleasing gray, white, and blue with modern lines. They also had access to the little patio again, where Bee spent a lot of time sitting in the sun and reading during her time as a reserve driver. One of her favorite things to do during downtime on race weekends was sit on the patio, weather permitting, reading a book and people watching up and down the paddock.

After the first practice session in Belgium, Bee was sitting on the Williams motorhome’s porch, trying to read. They’d set up a little outdoor seating area with some garden furniture. If there were guests and sponsors here, it might have almost the atmosphere of a garden party, but for now, it was just Bee staring into space with her thumb on her place in her book (Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel). Her eyes had started to cross a little, so she decided to give Thomas Cromwell and Cardinal Worsley a break for a moment. She was looking down the paddock, not really at any one particular thing, her mind wandering, until someone saying her name snapped her out of her reverie.

“Hi, Phoebe. How are you today?”

She shook her head a bit. “Oh, hi, Valtteri. It’s nice to see you. How have you been?” She hadn’t actually seen him walk up to the porch, and he’d startled her a little.

“Not too bad, considering this strange season. I feel a bit bad for you, joining F1 during this mess. Can I join you for a few moments? I feel like I haven’t talked at all since you were at Mercedes.” Valtteri said.

There was an empty chair across from her, and she didn’t think anyone would get upset - they’d be close enough to two meters apart. She gestured for Valtteri to sit down, and he did.

“Absolutely. I feel like I haven’t really talked to anyone all season, other than George. It’s certainly not how I’d imagined things going.”

Valtteri was wearing a mask, but his eyes crinkled a bit as Bee imagined him smiling. It probably wasn’t a very big smile - Valtteri wasn’t the most expressive person Bee had ever met. He was a stereotypical Finlander in every sense. Quiet, reserved, polite, but not very talkative. It surprised Bee a little that he’d stopped to chat with her. “It’s unusual, that is for sure. Aside from that, how are you liking it? Being in Formula 1, I mean.”

“Well… some days I wake up and still can’t believe I’m here, and I get to do this every day. Other days, maybe more often than not right now - it feels like I lied on my resume and got the job anyway, and now I have no idea what I’m doing, and it won’t be long before someone realizes it.”

“What do you mean? I think you’re doing great for your rookie season.”

“I haven’t scored any points yet. And I know that George went all last season without scoring one, but the car was… a mess, last year. And we’re at one of my worst tracks this weekend.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I think your performance has been very impressive. P11 for your first race, after an unexpected break and a late-starting season? It’s very impressive. You definitely have the talent, and getting the points and everything - that will come with time, and experience.”

“Hmm.” Bee looked skeptical.

“I joined Williams in my rookie year, too, and I only got 17th in the standings. And the car was decent, then. The next year, I was 4th. I just had to get some laps under my belt, and things started coming with time. They will for you, too.”

“It also doesn’t help that my teammate is… I adore George, but he has so much just… I don’t know, more of an instinct for this than I do. I guess it doesn’t help that he already has an entire season under him, so I’m trying not to compare myself to him, but it feels difficult, especially because I competed with him in GP3 and Formula 2.”

Valtteri chuckled a little. “I have a six-time world champion as my teammate, so I definitely know the feeling. But you two seem to have a very good relationship, so that’s really the challenge. Even if you don’t think you have the talent or instinct he has, you can learn from him, at least. I’ve learned a lot from Lewis through the years.”

“That’s a really good point.”

“But, even then, you know, your time will come. There is a lot of this season left. There’s a saying we have in Finland - “Paistaa se päivä risukasaankin”. The day will shine even into a pile of twigs.”

Bee stared at him. “I have no idea what that means.”

“I think it has a similar meaning to ‘every dog has his day’ in English. Something like that. But, don’t stress it - the points will come eventually.”

Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, Province of Monza and Brianza, Lombardy, Italy September 6th, 2020

Despite there not being fans in attendance at Monza, Bee was still all too happy to see the place again, even with empty grandstands. She was not ever sure how or why, but she’d just developed such a fondness for the place. It was probably her past race successes, sure, but it felt like something more than that.

Spa had been a race to forget for Williams. George retired from some debris from a crash damaging his suspension. Bee fought her way up from 19th in qualifying to 12th. She was trying to take Valtteri’s advice and be patient about her results - George hadn’t scored a single point in his rookie season, but the fact that she’d been so close to doing so was starting to grate on her.

The fact that Williams had points now was an improvement over last year, though, and it meant they weren’t in last place in the constructors’ championship.

Bee arrived at the track on Wednesday to film some promotional videos for Williams. Adam, the social media manager, wanted to capitalize on Bee’s reputation at Monza that she’d earn in the junior series. He told her they were going to make a video of her doing a hot lap in a GT car with a passenger.

This wasn’t an uncommon video for teams to make for their YouTube channels, but normally it would be a driver taking a celebrity or other F1 luminary around a track. With limited access to the track, though, the social team thought it would be fun for Bee to take Emilia out for the lap. Emilia didn’t seem like she was terribly thrilled about the idea, but she was a remarkably good sport about it.

Adam said that he would have George take Aleix out around another circuit this season for a similar video.

They secured a crimson red Mercedes-AMG GT R for Bee to drive, and gave them both an open-face helmet to wear. It was Emilia’s first time wearing a helmet that wasn’t a bike helmet.

“This feels weird. It’s squeezing my head.” Emilia said, trying to fix the strap under her chin.

They stood outside of the car, leaning against the hood, for the introduction. The ‘cameraman’ (someone from the social team with a camera - these weren’t meant to be super-polished videos) gave Bee her cue that he was filming.

“Hello, I’m Phoebe Stallard, from the Williams F1 team, and we’re here at Monza today! We’ve been given this gorgeous AMG GT R to use for a hot lap around the Monza Circuit. This is Emilia - she’s my performance coach, and she’s never been in a race car. This is one of my favorite tracks on the F1 calendar. I’m gonna take her for a hot lap around Monza!”

Once the technician adjusted the harnesses and Adam made sure the interior cameras for the car were working, Bee turned the car on.

“Are you ready, Emilia?”

“What if I say no? Can I get out?”

“No. You’ll be fine, I’ve done a lot of laps here. Consider it revenge for making me do so many split squats and deadlifts. Oh, by the way… did you know I have the lap record here for Formula 2 cars?”

“That… doesn’t really make me feel any better.” Emilia said.

Bee smoothly guided the car off the pit lane, up to the starting line. “Are you ready?”

“I guess so?”

As she blasted off into the first chicane at the end of the pit straight, Emila hollered, and braced herself against the console and door. “Oh my god!”

Bee laughed. “I asked if you were ready!”

Around the Curva Biassono, and into the Variante della Roggia, Emilia seemed like she might have been having a little fun, until Bee cut around the Curva di Lesmo, which was a blind corner. Emilia’s tentative, nervous laughter turned to yelling again. The Curva del Serraglio was wide and sweeping, so Bee used it to pick up speed before coming up on the Ascari chicane.

“Okay! Fast curve, coming up. Get ready!”

“Nnnnooooohmygod -”

Emilia barely had time to re-orient herself again as Bee sped toward the Parabolica.

“Ready for my favorite part?”

“What -”

“Here we go! Parabolicaaaaa!” Bee said, her voice sing-songy.

Into the Parabolica, Bee hung onto the very edge of the racing line, just like she did when she went for her lap record. She wasn’t trying to show off, not really. She just couldn’t help it. It put Emilia back in her seat. She was still yelling.

She coasted over the finish line, and Emilia was laughing. It wasn’t really the kind of laughter that indicated enjoyment, but more the kind of laughter one does unwillingly, trying to relieve tension after an incredibly stressful situation.

“You good? Do we need to go get you a new pair of pants?” Bee said, grinning.

“That was… wow.”

“I didn’t tell you this beforehand,” Bee said, “But this is one of the fastest tracks in the Formula 1 calendar. It’s also my favorite though, so I don’t think you had anything to worry about. I hope you at least had a little fun, because I had a lot of fun.”

“It was… something. Something I don’t think I’ll do again.”

Bee couldn’t stop laughing, and felt a little bad at being so amused. She didn’t think Emilia was actually afraid - she told Bee that she did have some adrenaline junkie tendencies, but she certainly hadn’t known what to expect.

Finally, it was qualifying. Bee was excited. Practices were the first chance she’d gotten to drive a Formula 1 car in Monza. It was almost better than she could imagine, with the high-downforce setup they put on the car for this track, it felt like she could hang on to the absolute edge at all times. Her practice times were downright decent, ending up in 8th in Free Practice 3. It was a good sign for qualifying.

She almost dragged the car into Q3 by sheer will, only missing it behind Pierre Gasly by a couple of tenths. George also got into Q2, but it was the first time Bee had out-qualified him all season. Another double Q2 for the team was worth celebrating, and a good sign for qualifying turned into a good sign for race day.

#f1 fanfic #f1 oc fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #original character #female oc #female f1 driver #toto wolff #george russell #my fanfic #series: wildest dreams #susie wolff #claire williams #valtteri bottas

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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I love the gen z vs. gen x mentality with bee and Lloyd just having no idea wtf she’s on about. I need her to show him how to use something on his phone 😂

Ahahaha. Oh my god what if there was an update and it messed with all his apps. Or he had to download whatsapp.

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laiqualaurelote · 2 years

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Happy Lunar New Year all, please find below my ultimate reunion dinner fic rec a.k.a. 360-degree feedback by bysine

“Ma,” Wong says over a feeling of rising panic, “you’re here for a holiday, there’s really no need —”

“I bring already, all my pots and my wok,” says Wong’s mother, gesturing towards a battered carton that they’d checked in despite knowing full well that their son can make portals. “We go Chinatown, see whether they got sell pig’s stomach okay.”

“What about Mei in Bintulu?” Wong asks.

“Make a portal for her lah,” says Wong’s mother. “You ask just now that minotaur whether he has any dietary requirements.” She pauses. “Think he cannot eat beef, yah? Never mind, I make some vegetarian dishes also.”

“Ma, Master Rintrah is not —”

“Call all your friends to come ah,” says Wong’s mother. It sounds equal parts a gracious invitation and a threat.

The list of people Wong is comfortable calling to give a last-minute dinner invitation to is, surprisingly, longer than Wong had initially thought. Xialing is having a corporate reunion dinner with all the Ten Rings headquarters members who don’t have families to have reunion dinner with (it turns out the Ten Rings, like the Masters of the Mystic Arts, has a certain self-selecting demographic), but Madisynn cancels a dubious-sounding double date with Troy, her maybe-boyfriend, and Winner, her ex who wants to reconnect, because “Wongers, I’d kill a person for your mom and I haven’t even met her”.

Tina, as Master of the Sanctum in which said dinner is taking place, gets an automatic invitation, as does America, who is on a trainee rotation to the New York Sanctum and is also unofficially Wong’s most gifted disciple. Rintrah is obliged to come, as Wong’s mother is already making vegetarian ngoh hiang and lotus leaf glutinous rice for his benefit.

Sam sounds oddly touched when Wong calls him to ask (also to cancel their Saturday dim sum appointment on account of Wong having to bring his parents to see the High Line on Aunty Geok Bee’s recommendation), and when he says he can come Wong informs him that Barnes is welcome as his plus one.

This comfortably makes a table of ten, except on the day of the dinner Wong answers the door of the New York Sanctum at four in the afternoon to find Mordo standing there with a bag of rice, assorted groceries, and a six-pack of Wong’s father’s favourite beer.

“Last minute shopping list from your mother,” says Mordo, by way of explanation. “She added me on WhatsApp the last time I visited.”

Wong stares at Mordo, who looks visibly uncomfortable. It is, after all, the first time he will be setting foot in a Sanctum Sanctorum since he’d left the order.

“Stop trying to usurp my position as the favourite child,” Wong finally grouches, and pushes open the door.

“That’s definitely your sister,” says Mordo, and follows Wong inside.

“All of my children are my favourite —” Wong’s mother declares later, over the contained chaos of the kitchen. Wong’s father, in the meantime, has ensconced himself in a corner where he is painstakingly cutting and arranging fruit in individual bowls.

“Thanks, Ma,” says Wong.

“— but Mei wouldn’t have forgotten to buy rice while we were at Hong Kong Supermarket,” Wong’s mother finishes, while jerking her chin towards the rice cooker. “Cook the rice! No time already!”

By the time everyone has arrived, the large round table Tina had managed to locate is heaving with food, which they all have to hold on for while America helps Wong’s mother take a video to send to her friends, including the infamous Aunty Miao.

“Oh my God Mrs Wong everything looks amaze,” says Madisynn, which is followed by a chorus of compliments. Wong’s mother blushes and waves them off with practiced ease.

Wong’s sister, whom he had interrupted in the middle of preparing for a big court case, catches his eye from across the table to give him a look which clearly says, Kor why am I stuck here with all your weirdo friends.

“Oh it’s nothing, anyhow cook one,” Wong’s mother is still saying, while also watching Rintrah with eagle eyes as he takes his first bite of ngoh hiang.

“How?” she says sharply as he chews.

Rintrah is spared from having to reply by the appearance of Strange, who stumbles into the dining room smelling of sulphur and looking generally singed.

“Sorry I’m late,” he announces to the room at large, even though Wong hadn’t even invited him. “I just averted the destruction of an entire dimension!”

There is a stunned pause.

“Okay Doctor Stephen,” Wong’s mother says, breaking the silence, “you get changed and come down to eat.”

“Is that something we need to be worried about?” asks Sam.

“I think that’s the kind of something we don’t ask about, Cap,” Barnes says, around a mouthful of yam and pork belly.

Strange, in the meantime, has caught sight of Mordo where he’s seated next to Wong’s father, and is eyeing him with equal parts suspicion and disbelief.

“Mordo,” says Strange.

“Strange,” says Mordo. “I’ve promised not to try to kill you today.”

“Choy,” says Wong’s mother, heaping fried meatballs onto Mordo’s bowl. “Don’t kill here kill there.”

#fic rec #headcanon: Wong is from Ipoh #lunar new year #chinese new year #reunion dinner #subtle asian traits #doctor strange #shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe

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theddude · 1 month

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Several times a day I break down, start to sob and cry because im missing you,... missing every thing we had, our cuddles, our talking all our talking, our connection, our love for each other, our intimacy, our click, our kissing, our sharing and caring,.. everything i miss about you,...

I don't know how you do that, through the day, and at home,.. i dunno, i think its exhausting, and tearing you down,.. don't others see it to? Its almost impossible for me to hide,.. because you are everything,..

Mentally im not okay, im completely focused on you, and us,.. i cannot focus on anything else,.. every buz of whatsapp or snapchat, telegram i hope its you,.. but you never are,..

We always had our moments where we snapped and apped, but those moments are silent now,... heartbreaking,...

On my trip abroad I felt your presence near,.. if it was because you also had been there, or maybe you still were in the neighborhood,... but it felt like it was,.. it was both nice as hurtfull at the same time, nice because i felt the love, hurtfull because we where seperated and not communicating anymore, cut off,...

I tried to book a return flight earlier, because I was way to unstable to be on journey alone,.. ive travelled to maybe 20 places in town, and can't hardly remember one of them,..its a blurr...

its a blur because I have you on my mind,.. Always, Always non stop,...maybe im stupid or desperate by having that, but its something natural, its inside me, its my love for you,..

We are connected, we are deeply i think,.. therefor we torment ourselfs by not beeing in contact like we where anymore,..

Whatever you want me to do, I will do,...

Your my life, my love, my future,...my bestie, my soulmate, my lover,..

#you are worthy

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faintasies · 4 months

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My name is Antoine. This story beguins with a strike at London Heathrow. If there had not been this incident, i would have gone skiing with Alba, and nothing would have happened.

But i missed my plane to Paris, and it was the last one, so i couldn't be on saturday morning, at 5 am, for the departure to the ski week-end.

It was a week-end organised by a group of students from my university. The football team. I used to be an active member of this group, but for some reasons you will understand while reading this story, i took my distance from those guys.

Alba was a sweedish student. She came to our university at the beginning of the year, with her friend Jana, to attempt some courses. Both of them were gorgeous girl, and soon all of the guys were having fantasies about them. Each time we ended a match, with the football team, there where many discussions in the locker room concerning those two girl, and most of the time the guys do not hesitate to be very explicit on their intentions.

This was the moment when i started to take my distance, because on my side, i had very nice relation with Alba, and also with Jana. We had occasions to work together, and we had a nice feeling. Despite all the fantasies of the guys, Alba and Jana where not really interested in sex, but were here for work. They wanted to learn and work, and this was also my wish. So we started to become friends, and while we came closer, all the guys started to be jealous. Of course, i never told Alba and Jana how much the guys where excited about them, and what they imagined of them. Maybe i should have.

One day, it happened that this skiing week-end was organized by the football team group, and Alba and Jana where very enthousiast about going skiing. I was not really happy with the idea that we would have to spent a week-end with those guys, but i made-up my mind that it could be an occasion to stay both 3 together, not mixing with the rest of the group. So i said yes, ad we planned to go.

Unfortunataly, for some reasons difficult to explain, i was the day before in Engalnd, and i missed my plane back. I was stucked in a hotel room in London, that i reached at 2 o'clock in the morning, after many many difficulties with the company. So i sent an sms to Alba "sorry for tomorow, i won't be at the departure, and i'm afraid i won't be able to comme to the week ed". I was really sad to miss this occasion, and i was not at ease with Alba and Jana going with the guys i knew.

But i could'nt do anything else. So i went sleeping.

At 9 in the morning, i woke up, and went on my phone to see if Alba had answered. There was a nice message from her, sent at 4, when she probably woke up. "Oh...poor you...it would have been so nice to spend those days with you. we discussed with Jana and decided to go. Sorry. You'll be in my mind...kiss you".

I was about to send her a message asking for some news, when i saw that the whatsapp group of the football team, which i was still connected to, had been quite active.

I opened it, and this is what i read. A message from Tom, the captain of the team. Dated from 6 am.

"Hey guys, happy to tell you we are close to arrive, and that our nice little sweedish sluts are sleeping on my reard seat. And you know what ? Max had prepared, in case of, 2 bottles of his magic infusion, and as it was cold, he proposed her, ad they both drank quite one liter. I let you imagine what's gonna happen...I'll take you informed...;-)"

I was pertified. I had heard about this infusion. It was sort of drug, making the girl totally loosing controle, and beeing available and demanding for sex. This could not be true. They could not have drunk that drug.

I decide to call Alba. I composed her number, waited for the ring. But a male voice was on the phone. Tom.

- "Hey Antoine, nice to hear you. So you're in London?"

- "where's Alba? Why are you answering on her phone? What did you do to her"

-"Cool guy...we just organised the things to have fun with your sexy friends....without you, sorry...but don't be sad, i'll send photos and videos on the whatsapp group...so that you and other guys of the group in Paris can enjoy...And no need to try to call them. We took their phones...they are felling so well and so exited with max's tisane that they didn't care" and he hang up.

I tried to phone back, but no answer, neither on Jana's phone.

At that moment, the first photo, with a commentary, was published on whatsapp

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jojosiwaknock-off · 4 months

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I was checking out my messages that I'd got on whatsapp and on one groupchat I saw a photo off a plushie I'd given to my wife (best friend) that she had cut open. It was kinda funny at first but then I watched the video she sent me and I feel kind of sad as I'd gotten that plushie on our school trip but had given it to her as my parents aren't big fans of toys. It was this really goofy looking dory plushie with legs. The video she sent me was of her and a frien of ours messing around with the material from it as they'd used the stuffing for a crocheted bee, but I still feel heartbroken for her just disrespecting my gift. Am I right to feel this way?

#friendship #best friends #wife #issue #problem #I don't know if I'm feeling correctly #I feel like crying tho

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theouger · 4 months

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the salty snacks i eat are bad for me but god my body craves them. i need chips. i need ritz crackers. if bee had whatsapp

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survey--s · 1 year

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534.

Do you prefer bar or liquid soap? Liquid, for sure. I hate the feeling/texture of bar soap.

What's the speed limit on your street? 20mph, but it’s normally impossible to even go that fast.

When was the last time you wore your favourite article of clothing? Yesterday.

Do any of your family members have an upcoming birthday? Yeah, my dad’s birthday is in about ten days.

On a scale of 1-5, 5 being the best, rate your last kiss. A three, maybe?

What is your favourite flavour of Jolly Ranchers? I’ve never had those.

Where was your Facebook profile picture taken? At home.

Do your parents smoke? Neither of them do.

Would you rather bake cookies or a potato? Cookies.

Who was the last person to stay the night at your house? Nobody ever sleeps over here.

Do you live close to a park? Yeah, there’s one about ten minutes away.

Is your favourite animal endangered? Yeah, tigers are.

Have you eaten pizza in the last week? Yeah, I had a roasted vegetable pizza on Saturday.

Who was the last person you added to your contacts list? An unknown number so I could look them up on WhatsApp.

How long does it take you to shower? Five minutes. I hate actually being in the shower but I love the feeling of being clean so I just get it over and done with.

Do you prefer a brand of bottled water over others, or is it all the same? I don’t drink bottled water.

Have you used Wikipedia today? Yeah.

Are you better at writing fiction or non-fiction? Fiction, for sure.

Do you know anyone who has moved to a different state? Yeah, I don’t know many people who haven’t lol.

How many pens can you see from where you’re sitting? Zero.

Have you ever dated someone one grade/year above or below you? Of course.

What language do you think you’d be good at? Italian. What language do you think you’d fail at? Any language with symbols lol.

Do you still have a landline phone at your house? No.

What is your current desktop background? Just an outer space image I got off Google.

How big is the television you last watched? It’s about 42″ I think.

Have you ever been stung by a bee or a wasp? Yeah.

How many schools have you been to in your lifetime? Two schools, and two universities.

What is the middle name of the last person you texted? He doesn’t have a middle name.

Are you of legal age in your country? Yes.

Why did you last visit a doctor? To get a sick note for work.

Would you prefer an ice cream cake or a regular cake? Regular cake.

How old is your best friend? 38.

What is/was your high school’s mascot? Schools in the UK don’t really have mascots.

Do you carry pain relievers with you at all times? Not on my person, but I always have some in the car.

Where is your mother right now? I assume she’s at home as she’s showing as online on Messenger.

What was the last thing to make you smile? Toby and Archie giving each other kisses lol.

Are you currently saving up for anything? Nothing specific, no - more just general “life” stuff.

What’s the view like from your bedroom window? Boring. It’s just the front street and the row of houses opposite.

Generally speaking, do you prefer sweet or savoury? Savoury.

What would you do if you got home and you saw your house had been destroyed? Panic? lol.

When did you last go outside, and what for? I went to fill my car up and grab an iced coffee.

Who is your favourite Sesame Street character? I never watched Sesame Street growing up really.

How often do you check your emails? Whenever I see that I have a new one.

Do you have any plans for this Thanksgiving? We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here.

What colour is your backpack? The bag I use the most is black.

Would you slap the last person you talked to for twenty dollars? Hahaha yes.

What search engine do you usually use? Google.

How much did the shirt you’re wearing cost? About £4.

Patrick Stump or Pete Wentz? Neither.

Do you know anyone who gives way too many hugs? No.

What time do you usually wake up on Sundays? Around 8-9am.

Have you whispered today? No.

What grade did you get on the last test you took? Christ knows, I haven’t taken any kind of test in years.

#survey #surveys

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sameeroak · 2 years

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Toufa Kabool Karo

Thank you Dost log for all your love and support which has really inspired me to continue writing.

One of the comments, I received from one of you was – Tu Lambi race ka ghoda hai…

Well, it got me thinking…

Hum Jeevan ke race me daud to rahe hai,

Race lambi to ho gaye hai… first inning of life already over and onto the second innings of life, carrying the burdens and guilts from the first innings...

Carrying Burdens and Guilts… hum…. “Race” ke “Ghode” se “Life” ke “Gadhe” kab baan gaye, patta hi nahi chala….

Back in the college days, I was like a Rose flower in a rose garden of friends… many bees stopped by surely and moved on…and life also moved on…

I did not realize when from a “Rose” I became a “Lotus/Kamal” and as a result of the transformation, I managed to turn the “rose garden” of friends around me into a “mud and muck” of loneliness…

Wouldn’t be nice to start the second innings of life … afresh without the old burdens and guilts.. sounds so good.

Chalo ek baar phir se

Ajnabi ban jayein hum logo

Na main tumse

Koyi ummeed rakhun friendhship ki

Na tum meri taraf dekho

friend ke andaz nazron se

Let’s all try to become back the “Rose” flowers from which we all began and re-spread the fragrance of love and friendships back in our life.

This famous song which I had heard on my last day of school sendoff party, comes to my mind with a weird twist…

Friendship ke bahane lakhon the

Friendship tujhko aaye hi nahi

Koi bhi tera ho sakta hai

Kabhi tune apnaya hi nahi

Kyun Contact list mein tere Koi freinds nahi

Duniya itni viran nahi

Har taraf whatsApp groups hai phir bhi

Tere sath koi social group hi nahi

Koi bhi tera ho sakta hai

Kabhi tune apnaya hi nahi

Jeene ke bahane lakhon hai

Boss, sorry this article became a little serious and heavy, but wanted to get this burden of my back.. admit my fault and hope for forgiveness and friendship..

Jahapanah tussi great ho ... toufa kabool karo

Aap hamara Dosti ka Toufa kabool karte ho, aage se Promise….

Yaari Hai Meri Imaan Mera Yaar Meri Zindagi

Yaar Ho Bando Se Ye Oh Yaar Ho Bando Se Ye Sabse Badi Hai Bandagi

Yaari Hai Meri Imaan Mera Yaar Meri Zindagi

I have the next blog already lined up for next week which is definitely on a lighter vein and humorous, hope you will like it… and after that.. abhi socha nahi, but life will present some opportunity, I am sure, as when you slow down like I have done and look at life in a closer, deeper perspective… there is humor in all its creation if you look at it thru the right spectacles…

In 2023, I have been forced with age to wear spectacles and wow, they seem to be PULAs spectacles, not sure I waited so long to try them on…

0 notes

antimonyandthyme · 2 years

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Destination

1k, Sebastian Vettel/Mark Webber

“Tell me something, tell me.” Seb’s tongue is looser after the few beers they’ve downed. Mark’s gathered their empty cans and gone to town on them with his pocketknife. A misshapen patchwork of figurines appeared, and they’ve strung them together with twine such that they looked like one of those antique windchimes. Seb wants to compliment Mark on his newly gained artistic skills. Mostly, he wants Mark to cut himself on the loose tin, so he’ll have an excuse to suck Mark’s fingers into his mouth. “Have you been waiting for this day? Be honest.”

Mark gives him a look that Seb can’t parse. Exasperation, maybe? “You mean for you to decide to retire?”

“Sure,” Seb says, encouraging. This day can mean anything. It can mean Seb letting go of a sport that has had a vice-grip on his life for as long as he can remember. It can mean Seb sitting with the idea like an itch buried deep in his veins before booking a plane ticket. It can mean Seb showing up at Mark’s doorstep with a vague memory of what Mark’s favourite beer is.

“I’m no longer in my hot-headed thirties, you know.” Mark’s flushed, but that could be from the beer. “I don’t wish you any misfortune.”

“Hah. So you admit you used to.”

Mark’s eye roll is fond, at least. “Everybody knew that. And in any case, I didn’t mean that.” He pauses, uncharacteristically anxious. “That retirement is a misfortune. You think you can’t separate yourself from racing, but you’re more than that. You, with your bread and your bees and your affinity for defying expectations.” It’s a compliment, or as much of a compliment Mark’s willing to give to him. Certainly, the alcohol’s helping, but Mark’s voice rolls velvet soft, convincing and inviting in equal measures.

“Alright,” Seb says. This answer he can live with.

Mark clears his throat. “Want another round? It’s not everyday you get to hang up your gloves.”

Seb shades his grin wry. “You think I just came by the revelation today? I had to go through several internal crisis-ses.” He shakes his head, searching for the right pronunciation. “Crises-ses?”

“Crises,” Mark tells him.

“Crises,” Seb nods. “I had to go through several of those. I had to shave. I had to search through whatsapp messages to find your address. I had to figure out how to get to Oceania.” He enunciates the word with flourish, hoping Mark would understand the pains he had undertaken with the flight. Twenty hours is hard on the back, first class or no. “I had to go to the store. I had to remember that you’re partial to beer that tastes like watery piss. I’ve made the decision for a month now.”

“It’s not my fault the Internet's a foreign concept to you,” Mark says, but he looks, for some reason, actually annoyed at that.

It takes a moment for the why to click. “Oh my god,” Seb says, delighted. “You thought you were my first stop. You like that idea, don’t you?”

“Well I wasn’t,” Mark says, sullen. He flicks one of the unstrung tin figurines off the coffee table. They watch it tumble to the ground with morbid interest. Something flickers in Seb’s brain, a metaphor of some kind. He’s a little too drunk. Something about leftovers? “So it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re the first stop that mattered,” Seb blurts out before he can lose his nerve. The only stop that wasn’t a means to an end. An actual destination. “So stop sulking.”

“I’m not,” Mark says, but he looks palpably smug now, a cocky slant to his lips that wasn’t there before. Seb wants to bite that off his face. Gently, gently. They don’t do violent anymore. “Not everything revolves around you, Sebi.”

The nickname is a shock to the system, almost Pavlovian, the way it pulls him backward in time when Mark used to croon it like a curse. Seb’s only a man, and he came here for a reason. There’s nothing left but to go for it. Mark hasn’t cut his fingers, but Seb takes his wrist anyway, and brings them into his mouth.

Mark exhales, a small whoosh that dislodges the anxiety rattling about Seb’s chest. Seb laves at his fingers as if they were candy. They don’t taste like much, but his tongue relishes the feel anyway. Seb imagines hanging that stupid windchime up in the balcony. He imagines sitting across from Mark with a blanket across his lap like what old people do, and kissing Mark’s fingers to the sound of tin figures clattering above them. He presses his lips to Mark’s knuckles, pulls away to give them both some respite.

They’re breathing heavily. It’s a relief he’s not alone in this. This being—?

“I’m not at my most coordinated,” Mark warns, but there’s such genuine warmth in his tone that it almost makes everything worth it. Everything from 2009 up to now. Everything, including all that he had lost, and all that he will now regain.

“Coordinated enough to get it up, surely?”

“Jesus,” Mark mutters. “You never change.”

“You love me for it.”

“Sure,” Mark says.

Seb stalls. He wasn’t expecting to win that one so easily. Of all the battles they’ve fought, Mark chooses this one to lay his armour down without a fight. It’s only fair he does the same.

“I’m kinda scared. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what to do.”

“When do we ever?”

“You’re not exactly inspiring any confidence at the moment.”

“You don’t need to do anything. You don’t need to be anything else. You’ve got your bread. Your bees.”

“My affinity for defying expectations.”

“You’ve got that,” Mark’s smiling now. “And you’ve got me. How’s that for confidence?”

Seb’s heart stutters, overcome with affection to the point of physical pain. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. Is he drunk, or caught in a dream? Seb says it again, to solidify what was always a stray hope into reality. “I’ve got you.”

Mark reaches over and scrubs his knuckles against Seb’s cheek. “Then you have everything you need.”

#fanfic #rpf #sebastian vettel #mark webber #martian #athy texts #a finished product

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