Mate You’re A Gift That Keeps On Giving, Like I Always Wait For Your Updates Or New 1633 Fics. But

Becoming a writer is great because now you have a hobby that haunts you whenever you don’t have time to do it

currently cooking a bearnelli angst fic. i might not survive. i also have my finals in abt 5 hours. lmao. lmao. lmao.

Your phone fought you because it knew humanity wasn’t ready for this masterpiece. It sensed the power. It tried to stop the prophecy.

And yet… you prevailed. you, warrior of pixels. knight of low battery and glitchy scrollings. Van Gogh could never. Da Vinci is quaking.

anyway I laughed so hard I choked on air. 11/10 would suffer again. ok ly bye gotta go write some landoscar fluff before I forget the plot and the armour.

Shout out to "i wanna socialize with my Internet friends but I don't have anything to talk about", gotta be one of my least favorite predicaments

hiii i love ur fics sm literally the only way im getting thru exam szn bro theyre sosososo good ty for ur works 🙇‍♀️ plsplsplspls return to the f1/pjo crossover PLEASE

I WILL I PROMISE I JUST NEED PLOT

stop asking “is this good?” and start asking “did it cause emotional damage?” that’s how you know.

still don’t know what “unctuous” means and at this point I fear it.

the problem with reading and writing leading to a strong vocabulary is that you tend to know the vibe of words instead of their meanings.

if I used this word in a sentence, would it make sense? absolutely. if you asked me what it meant, could I tell you? absolutely not.

Are you insane? If I ever said no to a snippet of you, you have full permission to shot me in the head

OF COURSE YES I'D LOVE TO READ A SNIPPET

I really love how your mind works and what you have planned so far

I'm literally camping in your radio checks

- 🤖

AS U SHOULDDD BRB GONNA PROOFREAD THAT BABY REAL QUICK AND SEND ITTT

narrative structure i am begging you not to turn into a series of vaguely connected emotional breakdowns. narrative structure please help me form a cohesive storyline. narrative structure you were supposed to have THREE ACTS not seventeen feral gremlins fighting in a trench coat over tone and pacing.

to be loved the way i love f1, what a thought, but not like ferrari since 2010, no, that’s like a cursed love letter you keep reading even though it’s giving “toxic ex who keeps texting” vibes. no thank you, i’d rather be loved like red bull in 2023— chaotic, fast, a bit of drama, but at least we’re winning and making everybody mad. and maybe like mclaren after 2024? who knows, still figuring it out, but they’ll get there and so will i, just. let me breathe.

i’m not even sure i want to be loved— i just want speed, and noise, like driving down a street, f1 music blaring while my 1.2L engine pretends it’s a turbocharged beast, but it’s not, it’s just me, pretending i’m at monaco. but somehow it feels real.

so i went and chose engineering, because who wouldn’t want to suffer, like i’m not already doing enough by being born too late to be an f1 driver. like, yeah, i could’ve raced at 18, but here i am, soldering wires and calculating resistance, living the delusion that somehow, someway, toto wolff will see my tweets and hand me a seat so i can drive into the pit of my dreams.

but nah, i’m just here, pretending i’m quicker than i am, just like when i got my license at 18 and blasted f1 tracks as if i was about to win silverstone, while my car barely passed the speed bump at the end of my block. it was freedom, though. it was delusional and it was everything.

maybe i’m not even in love with people, maybe i’m just addicted to the idea of speed— and yeah, the walls i keep hitting don’t help, but hey, if i crash into a barrier, at least it’s a passion crash. i’m in love with the chaos. maybe that’s my problem.

but pls—if you’re gonna love me, don’t love me like ferrari, don't love me like “oh, we were so close but here’s p2,” love me like red bull— always faster, always something up in the air, always winning (in the most chaotic way possible). that’s the vibe i’m after, that’s the dream i’m chasing.

so, here i am—delusional, writing f1 rpf fanfics at 2 a.m. while figuring out why i’m broke and why my heart beats to the rhythm of pit stops, but if you get it, then maybe you get me. or maybe we’re both just chasing something that’s always just out of reach.

(aka: send help, and a car with a turbo unit, pls.)