Phone, I Love You So Much, You Connect Me To So Many Things That I Would Never See Otherwise, Thank You

"Aurelia Knife Verstappen-Leclerc" i giggled so bad that whole fic

AHHHHH its a valid name!! lmao it was either knife or sword and I stuck with knife THANKS FOR READING BTW!! LOVE YOUUU

I'M SO SRY FOR WRITING YUKI CRASHING AND NOW THIS HAPPENS I WILL NOW WRITE HAPPY YUKIERRE FLUFF (unrelated to the main story)

-icantwritelol

OK GOOD I WILL BE WAITING 👀❤️

what is ur typing speed in wpm cos I swear u write so fast 😭 like pls take a typing test

it’s not about the typing speed babyy 😭 it’s about how many unhinged plot lines are fighting for dominance in my brain at any given moment. i could type at 12 wpm and still drop 5k of feral bearnelli chaos in an hour because the voices won’t shut up (read: hyperbole). typing test???? no. braincell brawl arena??? si.

btw. to everyone who's suffering because of sports right now: remember that you can't be so back if it isn't first so over. never forget

just read abt anatidaephobia and now I have an irrational fear. and also a plot to a crackfic that I don't know what to do with.

I literally just binge read your F1 demigod series on ao3 AND MY PJO OBSESSED HEART IS SCREAMING WITH JOY.

I literally couldn't find short one shots to read during class but then I saw a fic with two of my most hyperfixated fandoms till date and I binge read all 7( a symphony of sorrow has made me cry so hard)

Now I'm on my quest to look for PJO and a b99 cross over 🫡

AAAAHHHH IM DYING THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, BOSS!!

ps. i might need to write a b99Xpjo cross over now that you mentioned it. ahh.

box box :)

STAY OUT STAY OUT STAY OUT

if lando norris was 3 and charles leclerc was an apple then how many centimeters is the milk that i need to burn on the antarctic refrigerator to gain 3/10ths down the straight at the rainbow road grand prix circuit?

first of all, thank you for this question. It has changed my life. second of all, the answer is clearly blueberry.

you see, if Lando is 3 (which checks out), and sharl leclair is an apple (organic ofc), then the milk (specifically emotionally unstable almond milk) needs to be cryogenically yeeted onto the antarctic refrigerator, which, as we all know, is guarded by two penguins named Lewis and Seb.

once you bypass the ice circuit boss battle (featuring rookie Fernando Alonso on skates), u pour exactly π centimetres of combusted dairy essence into the carburettor of your Mario Kart and scream "FOR MONZAAAA" while drifting at preciselyy 42° angle into rainbow road.

congratulations! you now have 3/10ths and also irreversible lactose trauma. charles is still an apple. lando has evolved into 4 somehow.

science. ✨

gap in my résumé cause i was just snuggled up so cozy

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.)