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can-of-pringles · 2 years

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X-Men Pride headcanons (movie)

(Remember these are just my headcanons)

Jean Grey (Demiromantic Bisexual)

Scott Summers (literally just an ally)

Peter Maximoff (Biromantic Asexual)

Kurt Wagner (Panromantic, Transgender man, and Asexual)

Ororo Munroe (Demiromantic, Demigirl, Queer)

Hank McCoy (Aromantic Asexual)

Raven Darkholme (Genderfluid and Aromantic)

Charles Xavier (Gay)

Erik Lehnsherr (Bisexual)

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charles-leclerizz · 1 month

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EPISODE 01 : Start your engine

🏁 EPISODE AGE RATING : U/A 16+ [contaings swearing]

🏁 GENRE : Drama, Action, Sports, Romance

🏁 WORD COUNT : 10 K [ 10 , 366 WORDS ]

🏁 MUSIC SUMMARY : THE GREATEST BY SIA, PUMPT IT - BLACK EYED PEAS

🏁 CREDIT [S] : "BEHIND THE SCENES" BANNER, NETFLIX PLAY BAR BY ME [@charles-leclerizz], TEXT DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune

🏁 TAGS : MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon], OTHERS [@weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam, @inejghafawifesblog,d3kstar], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK !

DIRECTORS CUT : first episode children, better get soome snacks and a drink, and i highly reccomend looking at the masterlist, aisha's profile and the porsche f1 team links, since they will explain everything. It is also recommendeed you first read the trailer, which is once again found on the masterlist below.

Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷

The opening credits of the series begin to play, revealing bold block letters reading,

“Bahrain 2025”

And in the background, the black fades to reveal an aerial view of the landmark circuit, a staple of the history that defines Formula One. As the shot zooms in, we see the morning mist rolling over the grey, freshly re-laid tarmac of the track leading up to the garages of each of the 10 teams, most of them shutdown and blocked away from prying eyes. Though, as the camera moves forward, the view widens and we can see at the very end of the line, the Porsche garage emitting a yellow glow.

The acrylic entrance leaks hues of gold whilst we finally approach the opening where we see Aisha jumping in place, a set of Bose x Porsche headphones sat on her ears, the white body and metallic automobile logo on the muffs bouncing with her movements.

She looks up from her focussed point beneath her, facing the camera that zooms in and captures the determined flare within the pools of her eyes.

The music, already beginning its powerful bass bursts, dims and briefly we can hear her laboured breathing as she stretches her hands above her and unzips the tight athleisure jacket that she had worn previously for warmth. The adidas logo crumples as she throws it away, revealing a cropped sports bra, white with grey stripes at the sides containing an embroidered Porsche logo on her left breast.

Soon enough, the music comes blaring back and the camera merely turns to follow her body as she begins to run away from the safety of her team enclosure. The scene ends with her exiting the shot, running down the initial straight of the first ever track she will race as a formula one driver.

“Aisha, what drives you in the world of Formula One?” A deep, cryptic voice off camera asks the driver sitting in shot. She smiles menacingly and leans back against her seat, her hands planted on her elegantly crossed legs as she adjusts the low cut, ‘V’ collar of her waistcoat, the colour matching the iconic Porsche guards’ red, of the rest of her risqué pantsuit.

“What drives me?” She chuckles, a low, raspy amusement that reverberates against the stormy backdrop behind her, “The competition, the domination, it runs in my blood;” She leans forward, as if the camera crew were privy to her obvious need to achieve. Aisha’s thin, golden bangles on each of her wrist’s jingle as she goes to adjust her volumous hair, “it’s not about the winning, it’s about obliterating the finish line.” She shrugs nonchalantly, despite the aggressive competitiveness that crackles in the air.

The voice chuckles at her threatening demeanour, yet continues, “Some media outlets commented on your driving style, since F2 and F3. They say it’s violent. What’s your response?”

Aisha bites her lip, thinking on the best way to diplomatically answer the question, despite her need to curse the people who doubted her.

Instead, she sighs with faux disappointment and her wide, mascara rimmed eyes move down to her rouge and gold nails whilst one of her fingers comes to slip beneath the platinum stud that sits comfortably on the left of her nose.

“Violent?” She asks, her voice barely above a murmur, “They could’ve been more descriptive.” She rolls her eyes once before inhaling, “Try...relentless. When I’m on track, behind the wheel, it’s war. And I aim to be the last one standing, if you can’t get with the program, move out the way. Cause I’m here to win.”

Her promise of no mercy is palpable as she shifts minutely in her seat, tapping her nails against one another whilst waiting for next question.

“What about the rest of the grid?” The interviewer prompts, treading carefully with his words, “Any words for them?”

Aisha scoffs under her breath, uncrossing her legs and flipping over the golden dainty necklace that rests within her exposed cleavage, the glinting logo of her team catches the light whilst she adjusts herself.

“Why words? They’ll know what I’m here for when I pass them. They’ll feel it, the fear, the resignation. I’m a whirlwind, all they can do is get swept up in it, this season, I am not racing against them, their teams or even their car; I’m racing against their hatred of losing to me.”

She smiles at the camera, eyes crinkling at the sides as her nose scrunches, a pure juxtaposition to the threat that peeled out of her mouth like scalding, hot water.

“Before we end. For your fans, what do you want them to know?”

“Hold on for your life, they’re about to witness history on the track. Cause I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to fuck shit up.” Aisha grins wickedly and laughing loudly at the flurry of reactions off camera from the crew that stood behind the myriad of wires.

Three different scenes are overlayed one another, the first being of Lewis Hamilton, giggling at someone off screen before focussing his large doe eyes onto the interviewer who also sat behind the large camera.

The second being 3X world champion Max Verstappen, who sits heavily onto the provided stool and sips at the can of the sugary energy drink in his hand, Max stared at the camera, a bored sheen coating his crystalline blue irises as the third, and final driver’s scene overtakes his.

This time Charles Leclerc enters the identical set, the Ferrari golden boy had narrowly escaped his fans-who’s screams of joy could be heard in the background as he waved a final time and pocketed a bright red, branded Ferrari pen whilst sighing, glancing around haphazardly.

“Lewis”

Hamilton perks up at his name, smiling serenely, prompting the interviewer to continue.

“The world of Formula one is ablaze about new entry, Aisha Patel. Do you think, as a seasoned professional, she has what it takes to compete?”

Lewis whistles lowly, leaning back against his seat and wraps his arms around himself, “Damn- starting strong huh?” He snorts once before re-adjusting his posture, “Y’know, we’ve heard of her up here. And she’s talented, but obliterating F3 and F2 does not directly auto-translate to domination on our track.”

“Is that scepticism that I hear?” The interviewer chases after the hesitation in the driver’s voice, like a dog after a juicy bone.

“Call it...” Lewis arches an eyebrow as he mulls over his words, “Healthy cautiousness. I’m waiting to see how she handles the pressure after the lights go out.”

“Max”

Max hums lazily, as though he had one too many bubbling seltzers that sat, pristine on the refreshments table, “Yeah?”

“Aisha Patel.”

Max clenches his jaw at the sound of her name.

“She’s said to rival your aggressiveness on track, what are your thoughts on her joining your world?”

Max scoffs at the seemingly preposterous statement, “What about her? She’s aggressive, so what? It’s skill that matters here in the big leagues. Give a baby a steering wheel to a supercharged car, that’ll be aggressive. I’m not holding my breath for her. “

“That sounds like someone who’s threatened?” He probes the already on edge driver.

“A threat?” Max chortles as if someone had offered him a mere penny for his thoughts, “I haven’t been threatened since kindergarten. I’ll let her have her try at the status quo, take one for the team and all.”

“Charles”

The alarmingly red adorned man tilts his head inquisitively at the interviewer, his gentle smile popping his dimples.

“Miss. Patel has been said to be relentless on track, throwing caution to the wind. Your thoughts on her violent debut?”

Charles hums as he nods his head, “It’s nice to see fresh blood on track, bonne, she’s certainly caught people’s attention. Let’s see if she’s all bark and no bite.” He mummers the French praise before shrugging at the end of his sentence.

“You’re excited to compete against her?”

“Of course- who wouldn’t be? New team, new driver. The more varied the sport, the more interesting.” He answers neutrality laced into his words, despite the excited glint in his eye.

“Thank you for your insights.” The interviewer thanks the men in their tapes, each of them reciprocating with equal politeness.

“Of course,” Lewis grins and claps his hands, turning to start chatting once again as he dismounts from the chair, already walking away.

“No problem,” Max nods his head once, stepping down from his seat whilst receiving a fresh can of Red Bull.

“Cheers mate,” The camera captures Charles leaning forward to shake the interviewer’s hand whilst patting his shoulder, before detaching to go and talk to the gaggle of Ferrari personnel who had gathered within the filming shed.

The 2025 drivers had gathered onto the Bahrain track, the relentless mid-day sun beating down on them as a few of them had the pleasure of black umbrellas being held above them, whilst other’s held small hand-fans in the large palms, basking in the cool breeze that the battery powered trinket provided.

Aisha walked out, her racing shoes tapping against the tarmac as she made her way towards the others. A few Porsche employees trailed behind her, one of them stayed closer behind her, offering her a metallic, grey hand-held fan along with a chilled bottle of water.

“Thanks,” She murmured, brushing the hair that managed to escape her ponytail, “It’s fucking boiling.” Aisha complained, tugging at her fireproofs whilst another employee came up to her, patting her face with a setting powder as an attempt to dry her skin.

“Can’t really help it, love.” The media admin, Sarah, pointed out removing her focus from one of the jittery interns to the driver, “Now- you’re going to walk out, fans are going to see you. Are you sure you don’t want to hide your face right now?”

Aisha cracked open the bottle in her hand, having pressed the condensation coated plastic against her forehead long enough. She faced away from 2-3 people surrounding her to peak past the acrylic barrier, onto the track, where the rest of the drivers stood haphazardly scattered around the starting position boxes that had been freshly painted onto the concrete polymer.

“It’s fine, I think I’ve already heard all their opinions on me.” Aisha groaned, fanning her face again as she kicked a non-existent pebble beneath her toe, “What could go wrong?”

She peaked out again, like a tense meerkat, only to be surprised with her teammate, Pierre chatting with his former partner, Esteban Ocon. His racing suit was already zipped up fully as he basked in the fan’s unintelligible shouts and squeals, the thick, grey fabric stretched over his body nicely as the different sponsor logos morphed to the wrinkles and dents of the cloth.

“He’s already out there.” She hissed, “Making me look like shit.” Aisha banged the back of her crown against the wall that provided her with the much-needed shelter, from both the sweltering rays and the assessing gazes of the crowd above.

“Nonsense lovey.” Sarah assured her, picking at the hem of her fireproofs and pressing a few of the sweaty, stray strands of hair back into position, “Pedro’s just catching up with some friends.”

“Pierre.” Aisha corrected, pulling up her identical suit from hanging lowly from her waist to her shoulders, thankfully she still had time to leave it unzipped.

“Whatever.” She flapped her hand dismissively, “Baguette man isn’t doing anything you won’t have to.”

“Okay,” Aisha breathed out, keeping her lips taught and still as her rouge lipstick was touched up by another Porsche jersey adorned worker, “My helmet?” She looked around, patting herself, as though it would appear out of thin air.

Sarah looked around her surrounding, panicked, before snorting and pointing to the ledge behind the group, “There ya go babe.” She leaned past Aisha to knock on the head gear.

“I’m a mess,” Aisha whined, picking up her helmet whilst rubbing the glossy exterior with an open palm, she runs her fingers over her last name that’s printed on the back.

“A hot mess.” Sarah corrected her, hooking their elbows together whilst ushering forward the teenage interns next to them- their hands shaking with apprehension as they gripped the phones in their hands, the gadget recording each moment.

Aisha stilled slightly as her foot contacted the tarmac, the crowd already hushing with undivided interest on her mere shadow. She could feel anxious sweat begin to build up on the nape of her neck, flushing her face and glistening against her skin.

Finally, after a few minutes of inner turmoil, she allowed Sarah to guide her out within the crowd of other team’s media escorts and her fellow drivers. The grandstands erupted with chaos, the rushing of footsteps- scrambling to take the first photos of her in her debut, the unravelling of flags, the patriotic colours burning against the pristine plexi-glass barriers and multiple little girls shouting happily at her image.

Aisha forced a smile onto her face, the unexpected praise soothed her blushing ears as she waved up at the viewing boxes.

“Well, well. Nobody’s ever screamed like that for me.” A voice creeped up behind her, causing Aisha to whip around with a cautionary hand on her chest.

A cheeky grin greeted her, “Lando” Aisha breathed out, leaning to the side of his stature to acknowledge the rabid paparazzi behind of them with a tight-lipped nod.

“Hey,” He greeted her, bouncing on the balls of his feet and tapping the top of his helmet that sat squeezed between his arm and waist, “You nervous?” Lando tipped his head boyishly, his curls falling over his forehead, hazel eyes softening as he watched her.

“Not really,” Aisha lied, “do you need to pee?” She looked at him anxiously, watching as he stopped bouncing like a full bladdered toddler, and stood still. Lando chuckled under his breath and opened his mouth to answer, until he lurched forward under the weight of a heavy arm that hung from his shoulders.

“Little Lando Norris.” Daniel chuckled, rubbing his knuckles over the younger’s head, and snorted when Lando pushed his hand away stumbling out from his hold, “Already chatting up the newbie?” Daniel looks at Aisha with a smirk, “I think his pubes finally grew in.” He faux whispered, his voice gritty as he winked.

“I’m not chatting up anyone,” Lando smacked Daniel between the eyes before walking backwards, next to Aisha, “Just catching up.” He shrugged, side-eyeing her, gauging a reaction from her steely expression. Luckily, he got one, Aisha’s eyes widened slightly, her eyelashes fluttering to match her hearts faster pace as she slowly turned her head to meet his eyes.

“Catching up?” Daniel inquired, suddenly interested, “You guys know each other from before?”

“Yeah, we karted together.” Aisha crossed her arms over one another, before accepting a cold can of thumbs up from a staff member, “Still remember how he shit his pants.” She mumbled.

“I did not!”

“What the fuck.”

Both men exclaimed at the same time, Lando blushing a furious red and Daniel cackling loudly- leading to not only the attention from the other drivers that stood in a 200m vicinity but also Aisha snorting out her drink from her nose.

“I did not shit my pants.” Lando gritted out the last part, to stop prying ears of the other men approaching to become privy to his humiliation.

“You did though?” Aisha arched a brow at him, “I passed by you on the last lap, therefore winning-“ She poked her outstretched pinkie from her can into his puffed up chest, “And that made you so mad, that you shit your pants.”

“Oh god,” Daniel wheezed, taking support on his shorter teammate who had trotted up to join the conversation. Yuki scrunched up his face, tilting away from the force of the elder before looking at Aisha sympathetically,

“You excited?” He grinned slightly, showing off the gap between his front teeth.

“Definitely. How could I not be?” Aisha looked down at Yuki, shifting her weight slightly as an attempt to lower herself, “The crippling pressure? The thousands of viewers? The weight of both of my country’s on my shoulders?” Aisha blew a nonchalant breath from between her lips whilst waving her hand in front of her face, “No biggie.”

The three men stared at her, blank expressions on their face, one of them pressed their lips together, smacking them and creating an equally awkward “popping” noise for the group to bask in.

“I meant more like, the race and stuff..” Yuki mumbled, scratching the back of his head before yelping when Daniel smacked the nape of his neck, “But yeah, what you said works too, fo sho, no doubt, no doubt.” He corrected himself hastily.

“Fo sho?” A fourth voice chimed in, this time with a French lilt to his words, “Who’s got yuki talking like that?”

Aisha looked away amusedly from the smaller driver to the voice, her eyes widened at the blaring red that adorned the man in front of her.

“My period wasn’t due until after the race.” She commented, meeting the man’s intense gaze, “Are you here to ask if I’d like to continue watching?” She tilted her head innocently.

“Ah, I see.” He scrunches his nose at her, “You’ve got our baby Yuki talking like that.”

“Hey, fuck you man.” Yuki protested, throwing his arms up with a huff.

“I know you want to,” The seemingly french-man retorted back with a shameful wink,

“You wink like you’re trying not to cry.” Lando pointed out.

Aisha clapped her hands at her revelation, “That’s what it looked like!”

Lando shrugged, as though it was obvious.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’m not here to start the next French revolution or whatever-“ She mumbled, holding out a polite hand as a civil greeting.

Though, she was not met with his acceptance immediately, instead the three men surrounding her grimaced and hissed through their teeth- Daniel shook his hand out like he had just burned himself. Aisha looked around, oblivious to the reason for their reactions and jolted her hand out to the man.

“I’m from Monaco,” He snarked, accepting her hand begrudgingly, “Not France.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She shrugged in reply.

“Charles” he gritted out, squeezing Aisha’s hand tightly- a poor attempt to veil his distaste, “Charles Leclerc, Ferrari driver.”

“Really?” Aisha squeezed harder, taking a step back to roll her eyes over his bright red suit, “Couldn’t tell.” She snorted.

“Right, well” Lando coughed, reaching forward to peel away both of their hands simultaneously, “This was fun. Meeting new people.” He took Aisha’s hand in his but dropped it quickly when she looked down at their conjoined fingers. Lando coughed, the tips of his ears blushing a furious scarlet, before he shifted to glance at his oh-so-interesting boots.

Luckily, the situation was saved by one of the administration workers clapping their hands and speaking robotically into a megaphone, “drivers, please make your way to your positions.”

The seasoned drivers around her began to exit their conversations and walk towards the bleachers style setup at the start line of the circuit. At least 12 black, metallic chairs sat in a row behind a small plaque, displaying bold white font that detailed the circuit name and the iconic formula one logo sprawled along the edges of the display board.

“Didn’t need this fucking helmet.” Aisha hissed to herself, jogging to one of the Porsche employees that stood at the edge of the camera shot, handing off the piece of equipment, before making her way back to the crowd.

She zipped up her suit and removed the piece of elastic from her hair, letting the noir waves fall down her shoulders as she scanned the already in place men in front of her, thankfully Pierre waved at her and ushered for her to take place next to him, standing behind the pair of Mercedes drivers who were snickering at some joke the other had just told.

Aisha huffed, clasping her hands behind her waist whilst jerking her head side to side due to odd strands of hair tickling her eyes and nose, before she could exasperatedly wipe her face with her hand, a pair of fingers had come and brushed against her nose. Aisha minutely followed the soft pads across her cheek before trailing her gaze up to the origin, Lando met her eyes, his own irises blown out as his hand lingered by her cheek- his thumb twitching across her skin before he coughed and re-took his position.

“Thank you,” She murmured beneath her breath, neutralising her face against the onslaught of obnoxious camera shutters and piercing sun rays.

“No problem,” Lando nodded slightly, his eyes flicking back to her face, tracing her features with his shy stare, “You did great in qualifying, yesterday.” He hastily complimented.

Aisha tried to fight against the blush that made its way up her neck, “thank you,” she snipped, pressing her lips together as a futile attempt at hiding her girlish smile.

Lando huffed out a laugh, turning his neck to grin at her, “anytime.”

Finally, the pictures had come to a stop, and the long-barrelled cameras were packed away and the grid were herded to a large, open roof truck. Another admin worker trailed behind the last driver into the pen-like vehicle, stepping up the stairs to hang back from the railing after locking the gate, “everyone’s here?’ she asked, giving a once over the flocked in men, and woman.

“Aisha, you’ll be first to talk to Lawrence,” She met eyes with Aisha, who was already waving to the rowdy fans who had collected at the banisters of the grandstands, “And then it’ll be whoever’s closest.”

The lady nodded once when the drivers thanked her, then she caught Aisha’s gaze again and she smiled reassuringly, “See you guys around.” She waved and dismounted from the railing with a jump.

The large platform began to move as the truck silently hummed to life, Aisha moved from her comfortable position at the back of the area-leaning against the matte, black railing towards Lawrence who smiled excitedly at her approaching figure. As she knitted through the small groups of 3 drivers littered in her path, she continued to wave at the fans who shouted and screamed at each subtle view they managed to glimpse of her.

“Aisha! Hi!” Lawrence greeted her, offering his hand for her to shake and swivelled around to collect a microphone.

“Hello, hello.” Aisha grinned back, accepting the long piece of tech from him, comically rotating it in her hands observing the porous black material that had been painted with a flaring red to create the F1 logo.

“So, you’re finally here! The big leagues, and yesterday’s qualifying must’ve been very exciting. We’ve all been so blown away with Porsche’s car, and your performance. P5 ! Amazing. Walk us through what you’re feeling right now?”

“I mean, it’s a confidence booster of course, qualifying top 5- but I think that along with that it’s proving to myself and other little girls like me that it isn’t about who you are, but what you can do, regardless of gender or background.” Aisha nods once, leaning her elbow against the railing to crane her neck around and take in the track that lay ahead of the speedily moving vehicle.

“It’s great that you can showcase your talent and inspire young minds, but with that said- there’s obviously a pressure that comes with entering such a male-dominated sport.”

Aisha stilled slightly, her eyes wide and unblinking for a beat, “I mean, there’s always going to be extra expectation on you when you’re breaking barriers. The way I see it, this is an opportunity to pave the way for future generation, so really, its fuels my success and goes to show that gender or race, doesn’t correlate to your ability on track.”

“Well said, and while we’re on the topic of your determination, whilst being in the spotlight almost 24/7 and the battles on track, how do you maintain focus? It must be overwhelming.”

Aisha chuckled, turning to look at the other drivers, a few of them had tuned into her interview not-so-subtle whilst others were still deep in conversation, “I mean, when you’re battling against jumbo sized toddlers, and then being put under the loving spotlight of the media, I agree, it can be pretty overwhelming sometimes. But then I remind myself, why am I here? What am I here to do? And at the end of the day, it’s just me, the car, and the track, so I really don’t mind it too much.”

She shrugged at the end of her sentence, flipping her hair over her shoulder before unzipping the thick race suit. Revealing her tight, fireproofs beneath, the Indian flag sat proudly on her shoulder whilst her team logo lay sprawled across her chest along with the sponsor logos littered across the rest of her front.

“You make it seem so easy Aisha,” Lawrence laughed, oblivious to the tension that had gathered in the young woman’s shoulders and the tightness of her eyes that had increased tenfold throughout their conversation, “Last question before I let you go, to all of your young fans gathered here today-“ he pointed up to the bleachers that came into view on the straight that the truck was approaching, where multiple younger children stood, jumping in their spots as their Porsche hats bobbled on their heads, “-what would you tell them? Especially those who are most likely facing challenges in their racing journey?”

Aisha smiled serenely, imagining herself in the seats that sat so far away from her, what her younger self would long to hear to make her racing career just a little bit easier, “To all the younger dreamers, never let anyone else tell you your limits. They may say to stop, but you need to believe that you can keep going. Chase your passions relentlessly because if you do, then the only barriers will be the ones we allow ourselves to see. Keep fighting, because one day, you’ll see that you’re right where you need to be.”

“Wow” He sighed, hand on his heart, “That inspired me.” Lawrence laughed heartily, “Finally, maybe just a few words in your native language, now from what I know you spent at least 3 years living in India? For your education?” He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her response.

Aisha nodded happily, “Yes, I did! so you want a message in Hindi? There are so many languages in my country, but sadly I’m only fluent in Hindi, despite being Gujarati myself.”

“That would be great, please do.”

“Sabse pehle, main apne sabhi fans ko bahut saara pyaar dena chahti hoon. Aap log mere liye inspiration ho, aur main hamesha aapke saath hoon. Aap sabka support mere liye bahut important hai, aur thank you kehna chahti hoon.”

[First of all, I want to give a lot of love to all my fans. You are an inspiration for me, and I am always with you. All your support is very important for me, and I would like to say thank you.]

“Amazing, thank you so much Aisha,” Lawrence gently took the microphone away from her and offered a grateful smile before looking towards Fernando who had made his way towards the pair.

“No problem,” Aisha stepped away, patting the eldest driver’s back once before turning away and making her way towards Lando, who had already been looking towards her, waiting for her to approach him, along with Oscar and Logan who were engrossed in conversation.

The scene fades away from the three seasoned drivers and in the blackness another title appears, “RACE DAY” and following this the Porsche garage is finally revealed for the first time, much like the other teams the hard acrylic surfaces were decorated with the team colours and many engineers, technicians and workers were rushing around whilst other’s begaan to detach the hydraulic tubes from the cars in preparation for the first race of the season.

Before the first car revved up with anticipation, the halo was shown displaying the driver number and surname, “GASLY 10” and with that, the tubes were removed and the driver’s engineer pulled away, removing the iPad from Pierre’s gloved hands, allowing him to speed off towards his starting position.

The camera pans over to the second car that is yet to exit the garage, the driver within seemed to be hurriedly re-reading the car statistics, consuming that data over and over again, the scene rotates from the back of the car towards the front, where from beyond the middle column of the halo we get a glimpse of the large helmet following her heads sporadic movements, the Indian and British flag printed onto the front side of her head gear, peeped in and out of view as she handed away the tablet and she pulled on her gloves that lay waiting on the chassis in front of her.

With a confident thumbs up, she followed one of the Porsche employee’s guiding movements towards the other racers who sat in their cars, waiting for the start. Maintaining an even pace, she passed by the other cars, the exposed carbon fibre of Esteban’s Alpine in P10 and bright orange of Oscar’s McLaren in P7. She found her box waiting for her car as she pulled in and slowly removed her foot from the acceleration as she joined the grid in waiting for the formation lap.

The music faded away, to allow Aisha’s monologue to play over the still of the onboard camera, “This is it, I thought to myself, all the years of hard work and sacrifices have led up to this moment. This isn’t like F3 or F2-“ the live replay of the sleek interior of her F1 car is replaced by exhilarating moments of on track battles from her previous racing leagues, “- this is F1, where dreams are trampled on and shattered if you can’t keep up.” Her voice trembles slightly as we hear her take a deep breath in and the cars are overtaken with a new scene.

We see Aisha, in the same deep red sultry pantsuit, her side profile contrasted in the shadows as her chest rises and falls, “I remember the moment exactly, I told myself ‘Aisha, soak it in, the cheers and the feeling of other’s dreams, their expectations, cause it can make or break you.” She laughs incredulously at herself, “dramatic I know.”

“But it was electrifying, the whole thing, the thrum of the engines, the anticipation. I have never felt anything like it. But it’s everything I’ve trained for and everything I’ve wanted since I was little and racing go-karts.” Snippets of the raging, overwhelming sound of spluttering go-karts overtake the screen as one after another, we see young Aisha, drowning in an oversized sponsored uniform cut through the chequered ribbon.

“To the other drivers on the grid, it’s just the first race of the season, but for me, it’s my debut, it’s the first and only chance to prove that I’m meant to be here.” Aisha claps her hands, and the bursting flashes of her karting days cease, and we’re brought back to her, sitting in the tall stool, legs crossed over elegantly as she waves her heel back and forth, “The countdown began, and it’s lights out and away we go.”

The red lights above the Bahrain track fade away one by one, Crofty’s voice is matched with hers, and just as the sound of the engines crescendo, the scene ends.

“Right Lando- “

The young British man makes his way into the stool, wobbling slightly as he flails his hands before rocking back to stability. He lets out a relieved breath and crosses his arms over his chest, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with the golden, volt bracelet on his wrist the Luis Vuitton logo glinting in the light from his absent-minded movements.

“Hi, yes, I’m here.” Lando looked up at the interviewer, his eyes bouncing between the 3-4 different camera’s capturing him from odd angles, “Which-“he pointed at one of them, “-which one am I looking at?”

The interviewer laughed before leaning forward and tapping the lens of the middle-most camera, “This one.”

Lando breathed out, “great” before adjusting the pillowing fabric of his hoodie and stared straight into the glass barrel in front of him, “I’m Lando Norris, and I race for McLaren Formula one team.”

“We ehm we didn’t need that. It- it’s different from Drive to Survive,”

Lando cringed and rubbed the back of his head, causing the bracelet to ride up beneath the sleeve of his hoodie, “My bad- “

“Don’t worry about it, Now-“The sound of cue cards being shuffled could be heard, “Onto the first question, we’ve heard rumours about you and Aisha, especially during your karting days, care to elaborate?”

Lando sucks air through his teeth as he smirks, “Me and Aisha…” He looks down to his hands, fingers finding purchase on the angled charm of his bracelet, “We go way back, I mean, it was either me or her who were winning the races, she was,” He sighs heavily, his eyes starry as he looks back up to the camera, “She was, no, she is everything.”

“Can’t help but notice the bracelet that you have on, anything significant?”

“It’s symbolic, I guess?but nothing too big.” He shrugs it off, hiding away the jewellery from prying eyes.

The interviewer presses their lips together, humming whilst shuffling the cards once again, “Right, of course, but some fans have already started to notice that you and she are…close.”

“Close? We’ve always been close, it’s like electric with her, it’s hard not to be attached to her talent.” Lando smirks playfully, winking at the camera, “Karting with her was so intense, we pushed each other to the limit, and I will always hold her and those memories close to my heart.”

“Seems like obsession,” They laugh.

“Oh, it most definitely is, I mean, have you seen her?” Lando flourishes dramatically with his hands, as though the woman was sitting right next to him.

We are brought back to the first driver’s briefing of the season, mere days before the Bahrain Grand Prix, Aisha had just sat down next to Pierre and began to chat amicably with her new teammate, bouts of laughter erupting from the pair momentarily.

The camera pans from the bonding partners to Lando, still hiding his head between his palms in embarrassment, though from between his ringed fingers we see his emerald irises peeking through the gaps, staring thoughtfully at the enrapturing driver who was currently fiddling with the van clef, indigo bracelets that shimmered around her wrist.

Oscar, who was also curiously watching the woman jogged Lando, snapping the man out of his trance, “Mate- you’re drooling,” He poked his teammate’s cheek.

Lando slapped away the finger that prodded his face, “I am not.”

“Whatever you say,” Oscar hummed, turning his attention back to the administrator who was flipping through a few data filled papers, bringing their mouth closer to the bendable microphone. Oscar leaned into Lando, bumping their shoulders together, “Just be careful.”

Aisha breathed out a sigh, capping the black, matte Bulgari pen, slipping it into the awkwardly small purse that hung from her shoulder. She slammed the driver’s door of her car, having just finished a load of signing and smiling with fans, her main objective was to get through the security scanners peacefully.

“Hey stranger,” A voice came up behind her, tapping her arm.

“Lando,” Aisha tried to contain the quiver in her voice, “I thought you already got in.” She adjusted the neckline of her top, the tight sleeves hugged her shoulders and left her skin exposed to the warm sun.

“I did, I just needed something from my car and then I saw you,” He grinned at her, tapping his key card against the scanner, walking seamlessly through the rotating barrier, “You look like you’re about to walk a runway.”

Aisha laughed, tucking a straightened lock of hair behind her ear, “Thanks, you look…” Aisha assessed his outfit, a pair of light blue baggy, Levi’s and one of his own merch hoodies, “normal.” She cringed at her unnecessary honesty.

Yet, Lando just laughed and nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah- compared to you.”

Aisha continued to walk through the paddock, the British driver at her side whilst she waved to those personnel that passed by. She looked down at her own clothes, a neat, navy, off-the shoulder top that hugged her chest in all the right places was tucked into a grey mini-skirt, compliments of one of the many brand ambassadors of her team, the item was paired with a thin brown, gold buckled belt along with knee-high go-go boots.

“You could say that” She conceded, adjusting the golden Porsche chain that clung to her neck, “I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” Lando pocketed his hands.

“I you wanted to get dinner. For old times’ sake?” Aisha leaned forward on one foot, tilting her head hopefully before coming to a stop and waiting for his response.

Lando beamed widely, his eyes sparkling, “Definitely, I would be an absolute idiot to turn you down.”

Aisha blushed and looked down at the bracelets on her wrist, multiple layered golden chains which reflected light against her face in the most euphoric way, “Great, I’ll ju-“

“AISHA, oh my god it’s really her, AISHA!”

A shrill, young voice erupted from behind the pair, and a group of 3-4 young girls came running up to the pair. Aisha laughed to herself, plucking out the pen once more.

“Hello,” Aisha greeted the pre-teens who surrounded her, two of them dressed in a signature papaya orange whilst the other two sported metallic, silver Porsche merch, “You guys look so good!”

She accepted the hats and odd poster that the girls shyly handed her, “We’re so excited to see you race! You’re the only one who looks like us.” One of them spoke, her copper toned, youthful cheeks bobbed up with her smile as her long, black ponytail weaved with her excited movements.

“That’s so sweet, I think I might just win the race for you.” Aisha opened her arm for the girl to step into as they took a photo.

“Ehm, Lando, could we get an autograph as well,” Another one asked, already unfurling a second poster along with presenting the enraptured male with a sharpie.

“Absolutely! How could I resist?” Lando accepted the pen and began to sign the poster along with some newly presented items that the other two girls had produced.

“Thank you, guys, so much!” Aisha waved off the girls and turned back to Lando, already handing over her phone for him to enter in his number.

The young fans were squealing on their way back to their parents, who were just as excited for their young daughter’s interaction, “Did you guys see the bracelet?”

“What bracelet?” Another one asked, carefully rolling up her poster and handing it to her father, who tucked it under his arm and offered his hand for her to take.

“Lando’s, the one he wore for the whole of last season…” She adjusted her cap, looking confusedly at her three friends.

“Oh…I didn’t.”

“Neither did I.”

The screen faded away from Lando, sitting with his teammate whilst gawking at Aisha and we’re brought back to the present, the on-board camera of the Porsche is aimed at the lights that have just gone dark and all at once, a symphony of rubber against concrete fills the scene.

Aisha navigated turn one with ease, emerging from the throng of cars still in P5, her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she focussed every ounce within her body on the track ahead. The bright spotlights above her cast a blinding hue over the grandstands, illuminating the eager fans from around the world, their flags waved in their air as they watched with anticipation when she approached Lewis from behind, pressuring the world champion ahead as they weaved into the next turn.

Aisha aimed for the apex, seeing the slightest gap for her to slip past, as she pointed the head of her car towards the opening, she held her breath and pressed on the throttle. Aisha lurched backwards as she could feel the crackles of her under-board hit the track with each increase in speed she made, yet she managed to dodge the Mercedes car and fly down the straight, maintaining her tyres as best as she could.

The radio thrummed to life in her ear as her race engineer, James, began to speak, “Great work with Lewis, already around 1.15 behind you. Take care of your tyres for now and defend.”

Aisha breathed heavily as she continued to meet the corners and walls with barely an inch to save herself as a highly effective attempt to prevent more overtakes, “Got it.”

She continued her pace throughout the laps, the continuous build up over 20 rounds had inched her closer and closer to Carlos who was struggling in P3, his braking getting worse and worse with each sharp turn.

“James- how much closer do I need to overtake?” Aisha gritted out, flitting her eyes to the large, white metallic DRS sign that entered her limited field of vision.

“Only a bit more Aisha, it’s time to push.”

Aisha stepped harshly onto the gas, her engine thrumming all around her as she charged closer to the bright red Ferrari ahead. She could see the rubber of the tyres in front burn and smoke with every swerve. The roar of her engine filled her ears, drowning out the noise of her own heartbeat as she braced herself for the challenge, “Here we go,” she murmured, voice firm and steely with determination.

She surged her car forward, pushing her machine to the limit as she matched Carlos’ pace with precision and determination, the desert heat bore down in mirage-like waves as the two drivers danced on the razor’s edge of competition. One by one measly lap, the distance shortened until they were wheel to wheel, and all Aisha could do was grit her teeth until she could taste the tangy calcium as she continued the precipice of a wipe-out, the promise of a podium too good to lose.

Aisha’s heart pounded with exhilaration as they hurtled down the straight once again, soon enough the pair were met with the sharpest corner yet, Aisha pushed further and Carlos relented, edging away meekly to allow her to slip by. The crowd’s cheers washed over her, a wave of euphoria crashing over her senses as her heart swelled with triumph.

“WOO! P3!”

“Amazing work Aisha, halfway there. Get some distance between you two.”

“I can take on Checo,” Aisha promised, her aggressive spirit burning deeply within her core as her eyes narrowed into the back of one of the red bulls.

“Go for it, but be careful, your tyres aren’t that good.” James warned her, his voice crisp with caution.

“I got this.”

Aisha revved up once her power had flashed a promising green on the screen in front of her, “It’s time to pounce.” She promised herself whilst flicking the DRS button with her thumb, letting the flap behind her quiver open, the force launched her forward like never before as the lap count leached into the 40’s, Checo hadn’t yet pitted, neither had she, and suddenly, it was a battle of the wills.

She tried all that she could, nudging her nose into the smallest of gaps and backing out when he had angled himself predatorially, grazing her front wing enough for her heart to jump into her throat, “What the fuck is he doing? Fucking cocksucker, he wants to kill me or what?” Aisha had to remind herself to lower her voice.

“It’s within regulation, keep pushing you’re approaching DRS again.” James assured her.

The car trembled beneath her, like a jaguar waiting to pounce again after one failure, she pressed again. This time she nipped Checo’s wheel, causing for him to quickly move out of the way, narrowly missing a spin-off and allowing Aisha to speed into P2.

“FUCK YES! HOLY SHI-“

Aisha’s celebration was cut short when a dangerous thrum approached her rapidly, she attempted with all her might to duck and weave into and out of his path, but Checo was relentless, continuously rubbing against her wheels and forcing her to utilise her power.

“Fuck, fuck what the actual shit?” Aisha screeched as she continued to sloppily defend, her anger bubbling up like hot water.

The red bull growled and pounced in front of her, clipping enough of her front wheel to send her spinning. Aisha shouted with malice, throwing up her hands as her wheels began to rotate rapidly, “BASTARD!”

Her vision blurred as the world around her continued to haphazardly shift, the fans above stilled with trepidation as they watched her strangle her wheel with both hands and wrangle the car back into position.

“Okay, so that’s P5- P5, Piastri, Sainz, Perez and Verstappen in front of you,”

“Copy.” Aisha grumbled darkly, manoeuvring the vehicle so that she could continue to viciously speed down the final lap, murderously defending her position as her stomach finally settled and head stopped pounding with adrenaline.

The race ended with Crofty heartily congratulating her over the commentary,

“And Verstappen has won the Bahrain grand prix! with Checo in P2 and Sainz in the Ferrari in P3. Now the fans have spoken, and new-comer Aisha Patel has been voted driver of the day, rightfully so, securing a solid P5 finish after a challenging battle on the track. it's fantastic to see her scoring valuable points in her debut race. And let's not forget the incredible debut of the Porsche F1 Team! It's clear that they're a force to be reckoned with in the championship.”

A view of Max passing through the finish line is shown, sparks flew behind his car as he speeds through and turned into the parc ferme. Aisha is also shown, her eyes steely from within her helmet and as she stops her car she clambers out of the cockpit and rips of her headgear, a scowl evident on her usually cool face.

She pushes open the gate to the media pen, narrowly avoiding Max, who spared her a dark glance from over his shoulder before turning back to the interviewer.

“Yeah, people make stupid decisions sometimes,” She heard him answer the unintelligible question. Aisha could already feel the anger burn her throat as she whipped her head around and met Max’s eyes, he stared back, an inferno raging within his blue iris’. She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by her Media manager, pulling her away gently, Aisha followed tearing her eyes away from the Dutchman. Yet, she could still feel his heated gaze on her.

Aisha scoffed passing by Carlos and Checo, who were conversing in fast Spanish, and headed towards the common media area, where eager and ravenous reporters began to clamber on top of one another as they caught sight of her sweaty face and stringy hair.

“Aisha! Aisha!” They called, loud voices breaking through the microphone and blowing through the audio.

Aisha huffed and went towards the tell-tale white microphone, the sky sports logo sprawled all over the foam cover,

“Hi Aisha, congratulations on the P5 today,” Mark started, holding the microphone out for the visibly annoyed driver.

“Thank you,” She snipped, but blinked a few times before forcing herself to continue, “Y’know could’ve been a P2 finish for Porsche today, but I’m happy with both Pierre and I’s finish, at least we scored some valuable points.” Aisha robotically recounted her PR training.

“Definitely a tough break for you out there,” He nodded solemnly, “Care to walk us through what happened with Checo on lap 43?”

Aisha sucked in a breath, looking behind her where her PR person stood, arms crossed over her Porsche shirt as she shrugged, “Yeah, of course, it’s disappointing end to my race, P2 would probably be a dream, but Checo made a-“ Aisha bit her tongue momentarily, looking into the few dozen camera’s pointed at her, until she noticed Checo’s reflection walking behind her, heading to the cool-down room, “-a dickhead move absolutely dangerous, there was contact because he couldn’t use his eyes, and that caused me to spin out. It’s racing, I know, but you don’t see race winners or legends making moves like that.” Aisha hissed.

Mark stared at her, mouth agape before he recollected himself and forced a flabbergasted laugh, “Well, that’s one way to put it.” The other surrounding reporters were close to drooling at the mouth, their own mics pushed further through the gaps as they imagined the debaucherous headlines they could create from her outburst.

“How were you feeling during that moment?”

“Truthfully?” She tilted her head, “Pissed, but you probably didn’t you marky-moo, my radio probably told you that. But after I managed to regain my original position, I was more determined to just finish the race with a solid end.”

He laughed at that but stilled when Checo emerged once again from the cool-off room, “Checo!” Mark called, oblivious to the thunderous haze that overtook Aisha. She checked behind her shoulder, and her upper lip curled with malice,

“I’ll let Checo say his bit- “She murmured, “Excuse me.” And left the pen, heading towards the Porsche garage whilst avoiding eye-contact with Lucy, her fuming PR manager.

“Hey! Checo!” Aisha called out, throwing down her headphones, leaving her race engineer in concerned confusion as she approached the red bull driver, amid his team, oblivious to the storm about to hit him.

“Oh, hey Aisha-“

“Do not, hey, me.” She snarled, “What the fuck was that on track? Were you trying to kill me back there? You could’ve overtaken me in so many other ways.” Aisha approached him, prompting Checo to take a simultaneous step back, hands raised.

“It’s racing Aisha, I had to make a split-second decision.”

“We all make decisions, Perez,” She snarled, hands balling up into fists, “You don’t see Charles or Carlos or anyone with half a brain doing what you did? You messed up my race!” Aisha’s voice begins to raise, drawing attention of the red bull personnel, since the pair had manged to slowly move up to the entrance of the garage, and prompting a few camera men, who were following around Lando and Oscar to pan over to her.

Aisha groans, smacking her palm against her head a few times as a display of aggression before turning back to a very sweaty, nervous driver, “Never mind my race- you had fucking so many other options, why? Why did you decide to clip my wheel? Is it because being overtaken by a woman was so embarrassing, for red bull’s number two, you couldn’t handle it?” Aisha mocks him, before starting to approach his frozen form, a violent fire burning in her eyes and spreading to her limbs, igniting them with her fury.

Just as there was merely a centimetre between the two, a pair of strong arms hooked themselves around her elbows, holding her hand away from Checo, who had started shouting about his “personal safety”.

“Are you fucking stupid?” A gruff voice whispers into her ear.

Aisha kicks out, a futile attempt to free herself, “Let me go,” She whips her head around, her hair flying,

“Can you stop? I will literally knock you out.” The voice continues, grunting when her foot narrowly misses his groin.

“Fine-“ She huffs, going limp as she shoots daggers into Checo’s retreating back being escorted by a flurry of blue clad workers, “Fine, let me go,” She mumbles.

The man drops her onto the floor instantly, allowing her to stumble over her feet. Aisha finds her footing once more and spins around to meet his eyes, “Max?”

Max stares down at her, his eyes squinted with annoyance, “Who else? You’re in front of the red bull garage.” He rolls his eyes and steps a large stride away from her.

Aisha blinks once. Twice. Before scoffing and crossing her arms, “Yeah. Thanks.” She snarks before walking away from him, leaving the dutchman standing, fuming in his spot. She manages to skip over the McLaren crowd but had attracted almost half a dozen cameras on her, the large intimidating lens’ were pushed into her face haphazardly, narrowly missing her face a few times.

Aisha had to hold herself back from stealing the cameras from their holders and smashing them onto the ground. She could feel a self-depreciating throb begin to build in her head, the memory of all the idyllic children watching her, and those who had felt represented by her made tears prick at her eyes. In that moment, with too many lens’ focussing on her quivering lip, she hoped that they wouldn’t catch the salty sadness that threatened to stream down her face

The post-race interview scene fades away, and a familiar red bull jersey is announced into the scene, the dark blue merging pleasantly with the dark grey background. We’re introduced to Checo’s frame, a placid smile on his face.

“Hi checo,” The interviewer greets the driver, who nods in acknowledgement, “Well, Bahrain was an intense time for you, especially the on track accident with Aisha, would you care to talk us through the whole thing?”

Checo clears his throat briefly, “Yeah, uhm, it was a tight battle with her, and she was holding her ground y’know, but I saw an opportunity to make a move and I took it.” He shrugged once, reverting his gaze away from the camera, “And, as an unfortunate by product, she ended up spinning out, but it’s racing, these things happen.”

“I think everyone knows that she seemed quite upset about the incident, did you have a chance to speak with her afterwards?”

“uhm, people say things when they’re angry, and Aisha was frustrated but I’m here to win races, that’s what I’ve been hired to do. Once again, it was a choice that I had to make, and it’s hard to consider everyone’s emotions while I do it.”

“Max, we recently interviewed Checo, and he had some…words to say about the situation in Bahrain, specifically with Aisha after the race. Now, we saw that you had intervened just in time, what was going on during that moment?”

Max shifted in his chair, slipping down slightly, and crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah, I could see that the situation was escalating, with Aisha getting increasingly angry, it would’ve ended pretty badly.”

“You sound so sure about that.”

“Trust me, I know anger when I see it, and I know that races can get heated especially when avoidable occurrences aren’t avoided, but I also think that emotional regulation is crucial to compete.” He distractedly runs a thumb over his bottom lip.

“Does this change your initial views on Aisha entering the sport? Since you were pretty, pessimistic.” The interviewer cringes just as the words escape their mouth.

“I wouldn’t say I was pessimistic,” He quickly rejects, “But I think she had something to prove, just like any of us, she isn’t exempt from it. And she, raced like any of us would’ve in the moment, so do I suddenly think of her as a saint? No, but do I think that she’s building up to something? Maybe.”

“Aisha!” A voice calls from behind her, Aisha smiles at the fans who had offered her a notebook to sign, she watched them walk away before responding,

“Yeah?” She tucks away her pen into the silver, Porsche gym bag that hung from her shoulder.

Lando jogs up to her, tapping his card against the scanner before pushing through the gate and reaching her side, “Great race, you handled it...well…” He trailed off, unsure of how to spin off his compliment.

Aisha laughs at that, throwing her head back, ”It’s okay Lando, you don’t have to say anything” She tugs at the sleaves of her tight black jacket, the hugo boss label stretched over her chest as she pulled at the fabric, “I- I can get pretty mad,” Aisha shrugs, kicking an imaginary pebble with her shoe, rustling her oversized tracksuit bottoms, the three parallel lines on both her legs fluttered with the airy clothing.

“Yeah, that probably didn’t go down to well on camera,” He itches the back of his head, “I actually came to ask if you’re staying at the same hotel as the rest of us, Oscar took my car and I’m stranded.”

“Lando…” She sighs, adjusting the strap of her bag, “If you wanted to ride in my Porsche, you could’ve just said so.” Aisha gestured to her silvery 918 Spyder, the high-end sports car shimmered beneath the spotlights of the private car park.

Lando hissed through his teeth and grinned, “You caught me.” He held his hands up, “It’s the only way I can be photographed in the car without causing an uproar.”

Aisha tilted her head at him, “Oh, so nothing else is convincing you?”

“Hmmm, that, and maybe the very beautiful and scary woman who drives it?” Lando offered, holding out his hand for her to take.

She looked down at his open palm before searching the area around them, the rest of the grid had departed long before, leaving just her car and another in the parking. Aisha squinted her eyes at the remaining automobile, a Honda NSX, the only owner being none other than a certain grumpy blonde, who was more focussed on his back seat than on the couple who still stood in the middle of the concrete.

Accepting his hand, she revelled in the feeling of her fingers intertwined with his, soft skin against coarse knuckles, a warm aura enveloped her being as she guided them towards her car, pulling out the flat fob to click open the expensive machine.

Yet, as she watched Lando retreat into the passenger’s seat with an amazed, “oh damn.” and went to unlock the trunk to slip her duffel bag into, she felt an icy gaze glued to her back.

Aisha turned once behind her to where Max was sitting in his driver’s seat, eyes glued at first on Lando, an unrecognisable expression painted on his face before he slowly slid it up to her face, and his once oddly neutral gaze turned into an annoyed squint.

With that, the dutchman tore his eyes away from a now, slightly agitated Aisha, towards the open road and pulled out of the car park, speeding away to what she assumed would be the hotel.

“Hey,” Lando leaned over the dash, reaching for her hand that rested on the headrest of her seat, the other braced on her car door as she watched the retreating Honda, “You okay?”

Aisha jumped out of her disturbed haze, and back to where Lando was now rubbing his fingers over hers that had tensed enough to turn her milky brown skin into a pale white, “Yeah- I’m fine, just checking for reporters.”

“I’m that embarrassing?” He teased, watching her intently as she fastened her seatbelt and smiled at the sound of the purring super engine.

Aisha snorts, “No- not at all, just making sure that McLaren’s golden boy isn’t photographed inside a Porsche- with the grid’s certified crazy woman.” She pressed on the gas.

“Yeah, but…what if I want that?”

“What?” Aisha’s eyebrows knitted together; eyes still glued to the unfamiliar roads ahead as the GPS stopped squawking at her for a brief moment.

“I don’t care if you’re the crazy woman…You’re just, you. I don’t care about the rest.” Lando smiled lazily, his eyes studying her quickly flustered face.

“You’re a horrible flirt Norris.” She grumbled.

170 notes · View notes

brf-rumortrackinganon · 26 days

Note

What’s your pov on her pregnancies? Of the body or surrogate?

I'm opening Pandora's Box tonight in honor of the eclipse.

I'm 80/20.

20% of the body because:

There are tiny skinny-Minnie people in my family who didn't gain any weight during their pregnancies except in their faces and in the baby bumps (as photographs of Meghan depict), so I know it's possible.

That one appearance of Meghan where she accompanied Harry but hid backstage until he cajoled her out. She was not looking her best that day (very puffy, bloated face) and seemed a bit angry, to me, at being called out/forced onto the stage to stay hello.

Padding the bump - which some celebs do, especially when their bump isn't the typical "cute" baby belly - can explain the difference in sizing day-to-day.

How early it was announced.

How long it took Meghan to lose the baby weight - she was still carrying a lot of extra weight at Trooping 2019 (and the weight gain was amplified for me by poor styling choices with her hair, hat, and outfit).

80% surrogacy because:

There was no PR about Meghan's pregnancy compared to Kate's, and Meghan has always done the "anything Kate can do I can do better" PR competition every chance she could. If Meghan had terrible morning sickness, it'd have been all over the tabloids about how much worse than Kate Meghan's morning sickness is. If Meghan didn't have any sickness, it'd have been all over the tabloids about how much better and hard-working Meghan is during her pregnancy.

The excessive belly-groping and coat-flicking. Yes, she was doing that on purpose to get all the cameras and attention, but IMO she was doing it so excessively that it crossed into "the lady doth protest too much" territory for me.

The bending over and squatting down with knees and feet together. I've never been pregnant but I am a bigger girl who carries her weight in her midsection and who also cannot bend or squat down with knees, ankles, and feet together.

The alleged deal she had with Trevor that if she had a baby, he would pay for a personal trainer and a nutritionist and a nanny so she could whip her body back into shape. That's not someone who wants to be pregnant (but of course, people *can* change their minds. But still.)

The "rules of engagement" that Meghan and Harry sent to their Windsor neighbors/community about how the neighbors couldn't speak to the Sussexes or take their photographs.

The inconsistencies between what Harry reported in Spare and what the Portland Hospital's actual procedures are and the people who were involved.

Meghan choosing to deliver at Portland instead of Lindo and refusing to serve the baby on a silver platter after birth. The Lindo photocall is one of Diana's five* iconic photos. Are you telling me that Meghan happily copies Diana's outfits, copies Diana's pregnancy woes (emotional/mental distress to the point of self-harm), copies Diana's complaints about the BRF and the grey suits, copies Diana's second pregnancy announcement, and copies Diana's Panorama makeup...but she draws the line at copying Diana's Lindo photoshoots? And has a controlled photoshoot with one television camera and one photographer instead?

Meghan's birth "stories" matching more of the American Hollywood stereotypes than actual British practice.

Just one papwalk during all of her second pregnancy.

Hiding her belly with a giant-ass purse during the NYC baby shower after having spent the evening partying with friends, including Markus Anderson.

Harry's first appearance after Archie's birth being in the horse stables at Windsor instead of around the hospital (as William and Charles had been) and also Harry's "babies change so much in two weeks" comment.

Tacky social media influencer games with Archie's first photos under the guise of "privacy" - showing us the back of his head first, or his hand or his foot. Just show us the damn baby. No one cares about him that much.

Editing Archie's birth certificate.

Sara Latham bungling the media strategy for Archie's birth announcement. (Let's be real here. It's not Kensington Palace that fucked it up. It was the Sussexes' own people giving KP the wrong information in the first place.)

In the same vein of Meghan's "anything Kate can do I can do better" PR competition, there have been no stories about how Meghan felt of the early baby days. Kate and her family/friends have gone on record about how difficult the first few weeks with George were. Where is Meghan's equivalent? If Archie was a terrible newborn, then where are the stories about how much worse than Kate Meghan had it? Or if Archie was a happy, easy newborn, then where are the stories about how easy Meghan found motherhood? Instead the only story we got was "oops, it's feed time. Gotta go. Peace."

How early the pregnancy was announced.

How quickly (and suspiciously) the clinic/practice that Meghan used for her second pregnancy closed soon after Lili was born.

On that note, I don't subscribe to the theory that a lot of you may have (and which has ended up in my inbox quite a few times) that Archie doesn't know who Meghan is because he didn't smell her milk in South Africa and had a reaction. First off, PLEASE stop sending me that. I REALLY don't want to read about Meghan's breasts anymore.

Second, I don't think the Sussexes having nannies to help care for Archie is the kiss of death that many of you think it is. Some people just aren't baby people or little kid people. Some people like the older years better, when the kid can talk and is a little more independent and mobile. I've always suspected that that's Meghan and Harry, because all of their PR about wanting kids or liking kids has alwas featured older school-aged kids. They're not baby/toddler/early years people. And that's OK. That's not something to condemn them for.

And I don't think it's fully fair to call them out on their hypocrisy of what they said they wouldn't do as parents before they had children. Some of the hypocrisy is deserved (like the comment about not dressing their kids as Victorian ghost children but then turning around and giving Lili a Victorian ghost child dress for her 1st birthday photo), but they do deserve more grace than they're sometimes given; people just don't know how hard parenting or having children is until the baby is here. Yes, ding them for saying they'd never have a nanny but then turning around and hiring two or three, but also let's acknowledge that they know they can't (or don't, or won't, however you want to say it) care for their own kids themselves and hired responsible caretakers.

Finally third, I don't think Meghan ever breastfed those kids. Maybe she tried in the beginning with Archie, but if she did, she gave up pretty quickly. Those kids are formula babies. That's OK! So I don't buy the theory she was taking hormones and her weight gain was hormone-induced. Again, it's because of the missing "anything Kate can do I can do better" competition here.

*Diana's top 5 iconic photos are (in no particular order) the wedding dress portrait, the Lindo photos, the Taj Mahal photo, the Panorama photo, and the Revenge Dress photo.

#ask #sussexes #brf #theories

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didthekingdieyet · 10 months

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i once again changed my icon and header and as such… here are the new IDs of them!

[ID: PFP of this blog. It is a picture of tampon charles, with red X edited onto his eyes and the words “die monarch” to the left side. the text is white with a black background. On the top of this image the disability pride flag, which consists of red, yellow, white, blue, and green stripes running diagonally across a dark grey background, has been placed. It has been made mostly transparent so the image underneath can still be viewed. END ID]

[ID: The header of this blog. Tampon charlie is looking at the camera, smiling, he has had red X edited onto his eyes, pink blush edited onto his cheeks, red devil horns edited onto his forehead, and white cat whiskers edited onto his cheeks. To his left is a white cartoon speech bubble with black text inside reading “Happy Disability Pride Month”. He has also been edited to look as if he is in flames (like the flames of hell). On the top of the image, the disability pride flag (see previous ID to see what that is) has been placed, it is more transparent. END ID]

#new pfp #new header #image id #disability pride month #as a disabled individual #i strive to make this blog accessible.#please #let me know #if i can make anything more accessible #like the individual who asked that i not put the image id in the alt text #done #anyways #not a countdown #disability pride #disability wrath #more like it #anyways remember that monarchs do not respect disabled individuals

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emma-dennehy-presents · 1 year

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Celebrating Black Queer Icons:

Lucy Hicks Anderson

Lucy Hicks Anderson was born in 1886 in Waddy, Kentucky. Anderson is known as a socialite and chef that became well known in Oxnard, California from 1920 to 1946. She became the first black trans woman to defend her identity in a US courts. From an early age Anderson identified as a girl. On advice from doctors, Anderson's parents accepted and supported this. Anderson would attend school in gender affirming clothing, such as dresses, under a name of her own choosing, Lucy. At the age of 15 Anderson left school and began supporting herself through domestic work. At 20 Anderson moved to Pecos, Texas where she worked in a hotel. Anderson next moved to New Mexico, where she met her first husband, Clarence Hicks, in 1920. At age 34 Anderson, and her then husband, moved to Oxnard, California. Anderson proved herself a skilled chef and baker, winning some contests. Anderson's marriage to Hicks eventually ended in divorce. After which Anderson used money she had saved during the marriage to purchase a boarding house. The boarding house served as a front for a brothel, and the sale of alcohol during prohibition. Outside her time as a Madame and managing a boarding house, Anderson also became a well known socialite and hostess. Connections made during this time would prove fruitful during Anderson's subsequent legal troubles. It is said that Charles Donlon, a prominent banker, helped get her out of jail, after her initial arrest, on the grounds that he was hosting a significant dinner party that would have fallen apart without Anderson's involvement. In 1944 Anderson married her second husband, Reuben Anderson. About a year later, in 1945, a sailor claimed to have received a sexually transmitted infection from one of the women working in Anderson's brothel. This led to all women working there being subject to medical examination, including Anderson. When the Ventura County DA was informed that Anderson was assigned male at birth he chose to charge her with perjury on her marriage license. During this trial Anderson would utter the famous lines "I defy any doctor in the world to prove that I am not a woman." and "I have lived, dressed, acted just what I am, a woman". Anderson was ultimately convicted of perjury and sentenced to 10 years probation and her marriage license was deemed invalid. This also led to the Federal Government to charge Anderson with fraud, based on her receiving spousal rights from the GI Bill. Lucy and Reuben Anderson where both found guilty and sentenced to a men's prison. Anderson was forbidden by the court to wear women's clothing during this time. After their release Lucy and Reuben Anderson moved to Los Angeles, California where they lived quietly until her death in 1954, at the age of 68. Debra A Harley and Pamela B Teaster's (editors) Handbook of LGBT Elders (link to Archive.org copy of text) notes Anderson as "one of the earliest documented cases of an African-American transgender person". Anderson is the subject of the 2nd episode of HBO's Equal, where she is portrayed by actress Alexandra Grey.

This was definitely one of the more informative of these write ups, for me. I was familiar with both the quotes Anderson made during her trial, but didnt know anything about the woman. Wilmer "Little Axe" Broadnax has been mentioned in several of these end notes, so he is definitely next. I think i pretty much have the rest of these planned out, but as always, corrections and suggestions are welcome and desired.

#celebrating black queer icons #black history #black history month #black history is queer history #black history is american history #Lucy Hicks Anderson #oxnard #ventura county #hbo series #equal #handbook of LGBT elders #queer elders #elders

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f1-giuki · 1 year

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Ao3 Masterlist:

Hello readers *in James May's voice* and welcome to the masterlist of the fics I wrote/ I am writing! There are playlists and song recommendations for each fic!

I hope this post will be understandable and not too ugly!

1. A Sunday Kind of Love series: an ongoing series of fics set in the Emilia Romagna countryside, tons of fluff. They can be read alone. playlist.

1.1 Hearts of Gold : 9.4k words, summer fic. playlist.

Plot: One late afternoon in August Charles sat on a very pretty round bale, eating a slice of watermelon, white sunscreen on his face, cursing himself for having stained his last clean white t-shirt. He was having an unexpectedly good summer break, for someone with his bad luck (his fiat panda was holding on for dear life under the sun, much like his Ferrari F1-75, so this might be a stretch). To be honest, being on holiday in the Emilian countryside shouldn't have been his first choice of vacation, but he needed something different, something unusual that could take his mind off of racing for a while. But he needed a distraction, not a way to forget, so he chose to stay close to Maranello, his second home, but just in another province.

And something different he found indeed, someone rather than something. Someone with blue eyes and the constant need of sunscreen.

1.2 Moka Pot Mondays : 4k words, blurbs and slice of life. soundtrack.

Plot: The Italian countryside is the setting, Summer break the time and Lestappen are our main characters.

1.3 Cosa Sarà? : 9.2k words, end of summer break AU. playlist.

Plot: Charles sat on the side of the dry canal, in the field opposite to that which held his first kiss with Max. He would have sat with the Dutch in front of their field, but a tractor harvested it one afternoon and now only pointy golden thorns populated that lonely field. It felt like a prelude to a new chapter. Life goes on, like that song says.

And so Charles turned around and watched the alfalfa field and smelled the little purple flowers from a distance, complicit with the wind. The Monegasque was a nostalgic and a romantic person, the Regency era would have loved him dearly, and that field contained all the shades of the memories he held dear during his holiday. From the green of his old bike to the different shades of purples that tinted the fresh fruits he ate, passing from the blue of his lover's eyes.

That little field was going to be embroidered in his heart, like the hand on the small of his back, or the mischievous grin on Max's lips.

1.4 September : 8.5k words, set during the September European triple header. playlist.

Plot: August came to an end, some say sipped away like a bottle of wine, and with it ended the summer break. The Formula 1 season got back on track, for the last European races. This however didn't stop Max from tightly planning confessions, weird coming out moments and some unfortunately needed therapy sessions.

Luckily for him Charles Leclerc, his stubborn Charles, had other plans, such as casual homoerotic times in hotel rooms surrounded by fans, getaway cars to eat sandwiches and sheepish heart-eyes.

And maybe, with a lot of food, support from their stupid friends and some ABBA songs, maybe the two idiots will be able to finally say those three little gigantic words.

1.5 you're as beautiful as my home : 8.1k words, the fall and winter vibes are finally here friends, playlist.

Plot: The 2022 F1 season ended and Charles couldn’t stand the loneliness of his flat without Max or the flights to Italy inside grey clouds bringing rain around. So he decided to keep himself busy, having fun in Max's plane, causing the Formula One world to wonder if he could be a queer icon during podcast interviews and buying a house in Italy.

Max is right there by his side, befriending old people, providing perfectly timed songs, unwanted opinions about paint colours and homemade French fries and cakes, mostly enjoying the colourful chaos of Charles’s mind, with his cheeks red from Daniel’s teasing.

Or a set of stupidly romantic episodes starting from the 2022 Japanese GP

1.6 I would never take my eyes off of yours : 25.2k words, the April break au, playlist.

Plot: Max doesn’t exactly love spring. Well, we should say he doesn’t like certain aspects of it, like the insane amount of pollen flowing around in the air, next to bees, flies and all the other insects that exchange the blond mop of his hair for a flower bush.

What he loves about spring, though, is the warm sun, the spotless blue sky, cut only by the white traces of planes, and trees in full bloom. He also loves when Charles drags him to countryside festivals and dinners, when he composes new things on the piano, when Charles fights him after suggesting he should bleach his hair and especially when he gets on his knees.

Max should really change his mind about spring...

2. Homeward Bound : 74.4k words, 12 chapters, completed, Magic/Urban Fantasy AU. each chapter has a playlist, c1, c2, c3, c4, c5, c6, c7, c8, c9, c10, c11, c12.

Plot: Max Verstappen liked many things, like playing the piano, jazz music, Star Wars (Mark Hamill, comrades, say no more), his new flat in New York City, Daniel's cuisine and Charles Leclerc, the cute ghost that flies in his living room. He didn't know if that made him a necrophile or something (Sebastian says it doesn't, it's just a confirmation of his being a bisexual disaster).

Max moved to New York to follow his dream of being a jazz pianist but he would have never imagined that such a transatlantic move would imply the discovery of a magical world he always lived in but always ignored. Or that he needed to fight people with an enchanted sword to stop the fucking Apocalypse and being able to date Charles, but yeah, another day in the New York City life.

3. The Sting series: what happens when top-tier Interpol detective Charles Leclerc and world-class thief Max Verstappen (or as he's known in the field: The Dutch Baron) cross paths?

3.1 You could hang it in the Louvre : 10k words, one shot, art theft AU. soundtrack + bonus.

Plot: Charles, a young Monegasque, is one of the top detectives for stolen artworks in the Interpol organisation and hates with a borderline homoerotic passion the Dutch Baron, an art thief who keeps on ruining his career plans.

Max, a young Dutch, is one of the most wanted thieves on the globe and Charles’s archnemesis. He’s kind of an idiot, hence the idiotic nickname he chose for himself after his first big heist, the Dutch Baron.

What happens when Max’s new and biggest heist goes let’s-say-not-exactly-well and Charles sees his face for the first time?

3.2 Late night devil, put your hands on me: art theft AU, 6 chapters, completed. soundtrack

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame.

"What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork.

"Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate.

"The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows.

Max grins and rolls his eyes.

"I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers.

or: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

4. Red, White & Orange-Nassau : 54.9k words, 9 chapters completed, Royalty AU.

Plot: Diplomatic accidents don’t necessarily happen because of political feuds, sometimes they happen because a certain rockstar can’t shut his mouth at a royal wedding and the Crown Prince feels the need to obliterate his idiotic face, with those gentle green eyes and that stupid dark eyeshadow he always wears.

Said European crisis, as the New York Times put it, is more likely to happen if those in the room fighting are Charles Leclerc, frontman of rock band Moonlight, and Dutch Prince Max Emilian van Orange-Nassau Verstappen, the two eternal mediatic rivals.

But what if the fight ruins the short streak of good press the Dutch Royal Family got, what if suddenly the Dutch public opinion stopped liking Max, what if Charles’s reputation starts cracking too and with it his chances to win a Grammy?

What if this leads to a fake public truce and an equally fake friendship? Could this be the start of something at court or just the beginning of the end?

5. Fast and loose (and all that jazz) : 2.2k words, one shot, older sugar daddy Max, young sugar baby Charles.

plot: Max comes home from work and Charles, his sugar baby/young boyfriend, has a surprise waiting for him, a surprise made of red lace and dirty talk.

6. When I kissed the teacher (under the mistletoe) : 23.2k words, one shot, kid fic, uni professor Max, young dilf Charles. playlist

plot: The Monegasque waits for a second before inhaling roughly and speaking.

"No, but I need two favours, actually, Professor," Charles says, keeping his head on the desk.

"Uhm, yeah?" Max asks, scratching his head.

"Could I call you Max just for my next question?" Charles asks.

"Uhm, a little unorthodox, but if it's relevant to your point, yes, you may, Charles," The Dutchman answers, his pitch raised just a bit.

Charles bangs his head against the desk once again, nearly cursing before speaking again.

"What I wanted, Jesus, sorry, what I wanted to ask you, Max, was if you'd like to go out, on a date, with me?" Charles asks and he doesn't dare look at Max to see his reaction.

7. If you'd have been there (if you'd have seen it) : 3k words, one shot, sugar daddy Max, sugar baby Charles. Christmas special!

plot: Max comes home after yet another problematic situation at work and Charles, his sugar baby/young boyfriend, has prepared a very kinky and tight Christmas gift for him.

8. Something to give each other : 6k words, two chapters, completed, lestappen rule 63, landoscar, friends to lovers. Valentine's special!

plot: "You know, you should just talk to her, Max, you’d be surprised how a conversation can solve things!” Oscar repeats for the fifteenth time that day. He’s chopping some tomatoes up for his famous tomato soup.

Max huffs on the couch, sadly hugging her stupidly big IKEA bear. They named it Carlos, just because Lando thought the IKEA employee at the register was called Carlos and was hot.

“That's rich, coming from you, Mr I pretend to be straight instead of telling Lando I'm bi because then I fear he'll friendzone me intentionally!” Max points out.

9. Evil under the blossoms : 11.6k words, one shot, lestappen, florist Max, detective Charles, fluff. playlist

plot: Max shows Charles the way to the plants lab.

"That's where I think the robbery happened. These are the shelves where I keep the single flowers, this morning the tansies spot was empty. That is the greenhouse, but there are no missing plants in it. Then the rest of the lab here is a mixture of trees and different plants, the bushes that disappeared were there. I track in the register everything I sell, and I never miss a day, I'm-

"A plant nerd?" Charles jokes with a teasing smile.

"A plant nerd, yeah..." Max answers blushing.

Max is a florist and one day flowers start disappearing for his shop. He calls Charles Leclerc, private investigator and childhood crush, to help him solve the case.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #ao3 #f1 fanfic #masterlist #f1 fic rec #lestappen fic rec #gi.writes

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legion1227 · 19 days

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X2: A Movie Review

This has been a good year for everybody's favorite mutants so far.

So far, we are halfway through X-Men 97, a sensational return for the original X-Men cartoon, picking up where it left off and blowing away expectations. Meanwhile, we are still three months away from the release of Deadpool & Wolverine, which will feature the return of Hugh Jackman as Wolverine and possibly other surprises from the X-Men films released back in the 2000s, among other Marvel films from then.

With the success of X-Men 97 and the upcoming release of Deadpool & Wolverine, it makes sense to look back and celebrate the X-Men films to come beforehand. At the time of this writing, I have rewatched the X-Men (2000) and X2 only. X-Men: The Last Stand has not been reviewed yet, and X-Men (2000) was good, but X2 is the topic of discussion here, as it's not only better than its predecessor but one of the great comic book films to grace screens.

The last time I watched either X-Men film may have been as a kid during the 2000s. The rewatch all these years later proved how stellar X2 was, buried under the wave of Marvel films to follow throughout the 00s, 10s, and today. If you don't know or have forgotten, X2 introduces its main antagonist, Stryker, played by the brilliant Brian Cox; a man who threatens the existence of mutants with the proposed mutant registration act. After launching a full-front assault on Professor Xavier's school and after Magneto breaks out of prison, the X-Men, Xavier, and Magneto must band together to face a common enemy that threatens their very existence.

From the opening scene of Nightcrawler fighting his way through the White House to make it to the president, the film establishes more clearly than its first one how it has the sauce. Nightcrawler poofing his way throughout the halls and dispatching the guards one by one with opera music in the background is one of the best openings to a CBM. Overall, the action scenes here are a vast improvement over the first one, whether it's the opening scene, the raid on Xavier's school, or Wolverine vs Lady Deathstrike. While the first film's fight scenes were decent, the choreography harbors more dynamic action that contributes to an overall more enjoyable time.

The character work here varies across characters and performances. Ian McKellen has one of the best performances once again. While his role as the antagonist in the previous film was great, his partnership with Xavier, Wolverine, and others forces a compelling dynamic. Magnus breaking out of prison using the iron in a guard's blood was badass. Then, to see him forced to work with his enemies provided entertainment beyond belief. From there, unfortunately, it's a bit of a mixed bag from the other actors and actresses and their characters.

Hugh Jackman's Wolverine is iconic for good reason. He brought gravitas and an aura of savagery that was always entertaining to witness, whether here or in virtually any other film the character appeared in, especially in Logan. Patrick Stewart's Charles Xavier is a tour de force in his own right as well, but it's the other members of the X-Men that bring apprehension. While I enjoy James Marsden as an actor, he brought nothing to the table as Cyclops, and reminded me why others for years have hated the Scott Summers character; Coinciding with his performance, Famke Janssen as Jean Grey isn't given many intriguing things to do. It's a bit infuriating when juxtaposed with the performances and stories told in X-Men 97. The X-Men and X2 spend too much time on a love triangle where only one-third of the people involved are engaging to watch on-screen. (Although if X-Men 97 focuses more on the love triangle after the time of this writing, this may age poorly, lmao.)

I liked Shawn Ashmore as Iceman and the scene of him coming out as a mutant to his parents. A decent allegory for a teen coming out as gay to their parents, and I think the scene, as well as Iceman/Bobby Drake in general, work well for the movie. Aaron Stanford's Pyro was also a fun slow-burn, watching him turn heel towards the end of the film. I'm really excited to see him return in Deadpool & Wolverine. Others like Rogue, Beast, Mystique, and Lady Deathstrike, to name a few, I would've liked to have more screen time to grasp these performances and their character moments better. Overall, X2 could've utilized some characters better, but some of the characters get so right and attributed to one of the quintessential 2000s CBM movies out there. There are a handful of iconic scenes to witness or reacquaint with in the first two acts. The third act may waver a little bit, but this is still a great film that warrants a rewatch to appreciate the X-Men further. 4/5.

#review #movie review #movies #xmen #x men 97 #x2 #marvel #wolverine #magneto

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the-empress-7 · 2 months

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“Beyond boring, but more than anything I wish the RRs would spare us the Camilla as a fashion trendsetter trope”

IMO Camilla would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of her years in country casual accessorized with gardening hats and boots, just as she’s worn her entire life (plus riding attire when younger). 90% of Camilla’s dresses are literally the same McCall’s “house coat” pattern from the 1970s: A-line, V-neck, ¾-sleeve, front zipper/button closing. Even her wedding coronation gown followed this pattern! Sometimes she’ll switch it up with pleats or a blazer and skirt. That works for her 76-yo body, and that’s fine, but a “fashion trendsetter” she ain’t lol.

It’s Charles, who himself has always had excellent taste in clothing, who’s trying to turn Cam into a style icon, in her old age no less, and her discomfort with this shows. Ironically, one of the few times Camilla has looked wow! was her actual 2nd wedding outfit - the long pearl grey coatdress with that stunning feathered hat. That outfit was a trendsetter. She also looked great in that navy gown for their recent French visit. But a style icon in general? Umm, no. Sorry, Charles and RRs, but Camilla is no Catherine.

====

Anon, I agree about Camilla not being a style icon. She wasn’t one when when Diana was alive.

But do not sell Camilla short. The woman has been out-Meghaning Meghan, before Meghan even existed. She has plenty of agency. Also, her sister and son are out on the streets running their mouths, at Camilla’s behest. Not Charles.

#submission

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milesonthenet · 13 days

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We need to talk about X-Men '97!

October 31st, 1992, saw the release of the iconic X-Men animated series. It quickly gained praise and viewership from its audience. For years, it has been regarded as one of the most high-quality animated adaptations.

This year, the X-Men Animated Series finally gains a sequel; X-Men '97. The next chapter in Marvel's Uncanny Mutants is only halfway through its season. Its journey is only just beginning, and it has already gained praise from critics.

Welcome to the House of Milesverse. Today, we will be talking about X-Men '97, and its growing impact. I hope you enjoy the read and remember to (SNIKT) leave a comment or suggestion, bub.

WARNING. THERE WILL BE SPOILERS.

'97's story:

Unsurprising to anyone, '97 picks up a year after the events of the last episode. With Charles Xavier gone, Cyclops has taken full reins over the team. The X-Men are facing off against new and dangerous challenges.

'97 has a timeless vibe to its story, almost as if you never left. These are still the same characters as they were before. The X-Men's lore and story within the animated continuity have not changed.

Much like its predecessor, '97 also provides some interesting adaptations. For an example, look no further than Madelyne Pryor, the clone of Jean Grey. In just one episode, the series condensed the events of her story.

Another good example is their destruction of Genosha. Watching it play out on the screen was such a shocker. Its destruction was carried out by Cassandra Nova in the comics. Interestingly enough, she's completely absent from the series, with this being a conspiracy done by Bolivar Trask.

The X-Men have been missed.

Dear X-Men, we have missed you.

X-Men's animated series is in line with other serious, action-heavy stories from that time. Their story focuses on the message of hate, and the real-world issues it can relate to. The persecution that mutants feel has often been used to represent various minority groups across history.

In addition, the original series combined that with beautifully made animation. The action scenes have been well-remembered by fans for years. The animated series has become such a beloved part of the animated media circle within comic books. For anyone who's a fan of our merry mutants, they definitely have spent some time with this show.

97 has proven to be a perfect follow-up by many fans. In just two episodes, 97 was able to impress the audience. It's following in the footsteps of its predecessor. X-Men 97's acclaim and interest can only rise, especially thanks to it's renewal.

What's so different?

These may be the same mutants you have met, but their voices are not. Some of the actors, such as Norm Spencer (the original voice for Cyclops) unfortunately passed away over the years. Others have been recast to play different characters.

Here are what I feel are the most notable additions:

Cyclops is now voiced by Ray Chase, well known for being the voice of numerous characters such as Noctis Lucis Caelum (FF15), Bruno Bucciarati (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure), Tengen Uzui (Demon Slayer), Roy (Fire Emblem), and the Master of Masters (Kingdom Hearts)

Jean Grey (and Madelyne Pryor) is now voiced by Jennifer Hale, well known for being the voice of Commander Shepherd (Mass Effect), Princess Morbucks (Powerpuff Girls), and one of the Hex Girls, Thorn (Scooby-Doo). It's also worth noting that Jennifer Hale reprises the role, as she initially had it during Wolverine and the X-Men.

Gambit is an interesting case, as his prior voice actor, Chris Potter, is now playing Cable. He's instead voiced by A.J. LoCascio, who does voice work for both Prince Lotor (Voltron: Legendary Defender) and Marty McFly (Back To The Future: The Game).

Speaking of? Cable is voiced by Chris Potter now, whose done work as Peter Caine (Kung-Fu: The Legend Continues), and Evan Owen (The Young and The Restless).

Cable's old voice actor was Lawrence Bayne, but he was replaced by Chris Potter. Ironically enough, Lawrence Bayne plays a new character who debuts in the same episode as Cable's birth, The X-Cutioner. Lawrence Bayne is known as the voice of Gill (Street Fighter III: Third Strike) and Raven (Gargoyles).

Lastly? Jubilee's old voice actress, Alyson Court, wanted someone of Asian descent to portray her. That is where Holly Chou comes in, acting as the new voice of Jubilee. She did the voice work for Akame (Like A Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name). It is also worth noting that Alyson Court acted as the voice of an older Jubilee in an episode, named Abscissa.

As you can see, a lot has changed with the voice cast of the X-Men series. Some characters who were voiced by older actors had been replaced. Others, like Cal Dodd (The voice of Wolverine) and Alison-Sealy Smith (The voice of Storm) still reprise their iconic roles.

While much has changed? At the end of the day, these new actors all still portray the spirit of the character. Ray Chase for example makes for a standout, with how closely he sounds to Norm Spencer's Cyclops.

What to look forward to & Conclusion

X-Men '97 is heating up, and we are already almost at the end. If you haven't checked it out yet, then I recommend it. The series is short, but its episodes all have a distinct impact and role. They not only move the plot forward but also help the characters to grow.

My hope is that Superhero Animation swings back into full gear. I remember as a kid it felt like it was practically already there. From the 90s to the 2000s, you could not miss it. The DC Animated Universe, for example, stands out as one of the best superhero animation projects. An entire generation grew up on those stories, and those adventures.

X-Men shows that its importance and value to people matters. Much like the DCAU, it raised so many children and was their first introduction to the X-Men. It stands out as one of the most iconic superhero action cartoons ever, and frankly? It's earned its title.

I think the future of superhero animation is steadily climbing back up. We have had great animated series, such as Invincible, Moon Girl & Devil Dinosaur, My Adventures with Superman, and now? X-Men '97.

This has been a wonderful episode of House of MilesVerse. I hope you join us for a deep dive into our favorite robots in disguise. I'll be doing a full review of Transformers: Earthspark.

And? If you didn't know it, then now you know. We'll chronicle some adventures of Moon Girl & Devil Dinosaur.

#x men #x men 97 #milesverse #comic books #marvel #x men the animated series #x men comics #animated series #superhero #superheroes #marvel comics #disney plus #disney+

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s10127470 · 10 months

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AU Idea: X-Spiders

Have you ever wondered what if would be like if other Marvel characters had spider powers?

No? Well too bad!

I stumbled upon this incredible artwork done by the incredibly talented Marcus the Visual, which as you can see, depicts several of the X-Men with spider powers, but done in a way that combines that with their already existing powers.

And after seeing this, this gave me the idea of make an entire AU around this concept.

And I figured now would be the best time to do so since this month not only marks the 60th anniversary of the X-Men, but also because there's been notable rise in Spider-Man AU concepts and Spidersona AUs thanks to the recent release of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse.

So without further ado, let's jump in!

-Immediately, when fleshing out this concept, the hardest part of it was trying to figure out how the X-Men would get their powers. When it comes to power origins, Spider-Man and the X-Men are about as different as you can get. Spidey got his powers from a radioactive spider bite, whereas the X-Men (along with the entire mutant race as a whole) are born with their powers. So after some long thinking, I decided on this. In the universe of the X-Spiders, mutants sadly don't exist. But you're probably wondering, how would characters like Nightcrawler have their iconic looks? Well I decided to have this AU set in the distant future, at least several centuries from now. During that time, it would make sense that there would some physical changes to occur to the human race. I could imagine that would some type of genetic oddity developed during those centuries, causing some humans to appear….well, non-human. As for how the X-Men got their powers, first we got to discuss their standing in this world. X-Men initially ran a foster home for orphaned and abandoned children founded by Charles Xavier and Wolverine (who are longtime friends in this universe), particularly for those who were born with the genetic oddity. As for the powers. Well sometime ago, Oscorp created a species of genetically-modified spiders, with each one having their own unique abilities. But an accident caused to the spiders to get loose. And overtime, each of the X-Men would find themselves getting bitten by one of these spiders. Like how any normal person would react, the X-Men freaked out about their newfound powers and decided to hide them. But overtime, they found themselves in situations where they inadvertently used their powers, and as a result, helped someone in need. Because of this, the X-Men became superheroes and decided to use their newfound powers to help the people around them. Yeah…..their origin isn’t as shrouded in tragedy as Spidey’s.

-As for the X-Spiders themselves, the group consists of Cyclops, Wolverine, Storm, Gambit, Jubilee, Nightcrawler, Jean Grey, Beast, Rogue, Colossus, Iceman, Psylocke and Shadowcat. They all have the standard spider powers: superhuman physicality, the ability to stick to and scale any surface, Spider Sense, and the ability to shoot organic webbing from their wrists. What's unique about each X-Spider, apart from the fact they each have their own special powers, is that with some of them, their webbing is made up of different properties, to correspond with their powers.

-Cyclops (Scott Summers, 26, 6'2, 192 lbs, Scott Porter): As you would expect from him, he's the leader of the team. He was the very first kid taken in by Charles and Wolverine at age 8, alongside his younger brother Alex, after their parents died in a plane crash. Personality-wise, he's more like his iteration from X-Men Evolution, being far more outgoing and confident than most of his other iterations, while still being a disciplined and hardworking leader. His special power allows him to shoot ruby-colored beams of concussive force from his eyes. He can also combine the energy of his beams with his webbings, for an extra crunch. He's currently in relationship with Jean and when he's not doing hero-work, works as a DJ for a local radio station.

-Wolverine (James "Logan" Howlett, Unknown, 5'4, 305 lbs, Steve Blum): The co-founder of the foster home and a longtime friend of Charles. Just like Cyclops, he's pretty similar to his X-Men Evolution iteration, being more laid back and a mentor to the kids. Out of all the X-Spiders, he has the best endurance and senses. His special power allows him to eject retractable bone claws from his knuckles. The bite also caused his entire skeleton to become coated in metal. He can also shoot metal webbing, which is very hard to cut through. When he's not doing hero-work, he works as a police officer.

-Storm (Ororo Munroe, 26, 5'11, 127 lbs, Danielle Nicolet): Found as an orphan on the streets of Kenya, she was taken in by Charles at age 10. Personality-wise, she's what you would expect from any version of Storm. Her special power allows her to generate bio-electricity from her body. She can also glide, shoot electrical webbing and even control her hair (which is BIG as HELL and in form of dreadlocks in this universe) as if they were spider legs. She's currently in a relationship with physician Donald Blake and when she's not doing hero-work, works as a meteorologist for the local news.

-Gambit (Remy LeBeau, 24, 6'3, 193 lbs, Troy Baker): Found as a thieving orphan on the streets of New Orleans, he was taken in by Charles at 13. Personality-wise, he's what you would expect from any version of Gambit. Out of all the X-Spiders, he's the fastest. His special power allows him to generate kinetic energy from his body and use it charge anything he touches. He can also shoot kinetic energy webbing. He's currently in a relationship with Rogue and when's not doing hero-work, he's working as a cook for a local Cajun restaurant.

-Jubilee (Jubilation Lee, 13, 5'0, 90 lbs, Haley Tju): Found living as thieving orphan in a Beverly Hills mall, she's the most recent addition to the family, having been taken by them just last year. Personality-wise, she's what you would expect from any version I of Jubilee. Her special powers allows her to shoot burst of energy that resemble fireworks. She's also able to shoot multicolored energy-charged webbing. When she's not doing hero-work, she's attending the local junior high school.

-Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner, 25, 5'9, 161 lbs, Liam O'Brien): Found as a homeless orphan in Germany, constantly on the run due to his demonic appearance, he was taken in by Xavier at age 9. Personality-wise, he's what you would expect from any version of Nightcrawler. And yes, he's still deeply religious. Out of all the X-Spiders, he's the most agile and flexible. His special power allows him to teleport. He can also become nearly invisible in shadows. He's currently in a relationship with fellow housemate Wren Worthington (a female) and when he's not doing hero-work, he works as a delivery boy for GrubHub.

-Jean Grey (26, 5'9, 122 lbs, Jennifer Hale): After her parents died in a car crash at age 9, she was taken into the foster home. Personality-wise, what you would expect from any version of Jean. Her special powers is telepathy and psionic energy manipulation. She can also glide like Storm and shoot psionic-energy webbing. She's currently in a relationship with Cyclops and when she's not doing hero-work, she works as a surgeon for the local hospital.

-Beast (Henry McCoy, 28, 6'6, 410 lbs, Fred Tatasciore): Abandoned at birth by parents due to his animalistic appearance and forced to live in the wild, he was found at age 11 and taken in by Charles. Personality-wise, what would you expect from any version of Beast. Just like Nightcrawler, he's the most agile and flexible of the X-Spiders, as well as the third strongest. His special power is a venomous bite that can paralyze his foes. He's currently in a relationship with S.W.O.R.D. agent Abigail Brand and when he's not doing hero-work, he works as a professor for the local university.

-Rogue (Marian Carlyle, 23, 5'9, 133 lbs, Melissa Disney): Having spent most of her life going from foster family to foster family, she eventually found herself at the X foster home around age 10. Personality-wise, what you would expect from the best versions of Rogue. Out of all the X-Spiders, she's the second strongest. Her special powers allows her to copy the powers and abilities of those around her. She can also climb like Storm and Jean. She's currently in a relationship with Gambit and when she's not doing hero-work, she's working on the local farms.

-Colossus (Piotr Rasputin, 22, 6'11/7'6, 265 lbs/505 lbs, Chris Cox): After his parents died due to illness, he, his older brother Mikhail, and his newborn sister Illyana, would find themselves out on the streets. They would eventually be found by Charles when Colossus was about 6. Personality-wise, what you would expect from any version of Colossus. Out of all the X-Spiders, he's the strongest. His special power allows him to convert his skin into organic steel, granting him even greater strength and durability. He can also shoot metallic webbing, similar to Wolverine. He's currently in a relationship with fellow housemate Emma Frost and when he's not doing hero-work, he's attending Empire State University, majoring in the arts.

-Iceman (Bobby Drake, 21, 5'8, 145 lbs, Robbie Daymond): After his parents died in a skiing accident at the age of 9, he and his younger brother Ronnie found themselves in the care of Xavier. Personality-wise, what you would expect from Iceman. His special power allowing himself to convert the moisture in the air into ice. He also has a strong resistance to freezing temperatures, can cover his entire body in ice, and shoots icy webbing. He's currently in a relationship with Johnny Storm and when he's not doing hero-work, he attends Empire State University, majoring in accounting.

-Psylocke (Betsy Braddock, 25, 5'11, 155 lbs, Grey Griffin): A Japanese girl who initially grew up in an abusive orphanage in England, Betsy ran away at age 14 and found her way to the states. There, she would be taken in by Charles. Personality-wise, she's a adventurous thrill-seeker with a witty attitude. Her special powers are telepathy and being able to create constructs out of psionic energy. She's also shoots psionic energy webbing just like Jean. When she's not doing hero-work, she's working as a martial arts instructor.

-Shadowcat (Kitty Pryde, 19, 5'7, 114 lbs, Danielle Judovits): After her parents were killed during a mugging at age 9, she found herself on the streets, with her only companion being her pet iguana Lockheed. She would eventually be found by Wolverine and brought into the home. Personality-wise, what you would expect from any version of Shadowcat. Her special power allows her to phase through most soldier objects. She's currently in a relationship with Doreen Green and when she's not doing hero-work, she attends training in order to become a firefighter.

Well that's all for now!

Let me know what you guys think about this AU idea and if you could, give me some ideas for some of the villains of this AU.

I'm most likely gonna make a part 2 to this and I want the villains of this AU to be a mashup between the X-Men villains and some of the iconic Spidey villains.

#au idea #marvel au #x-men au #spider man au #xmen #scott summers #logan howlett #ororo munroe #remy lebeau #jubilation lee #kurt wagner #jean grey #henry mccoy #marian carlyle #piotr rasputin #bobby drake #betsy braddock #kitty pryde

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navigatorwrongway · 7 months

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Although it may be tempting to assume that the eponymous beard of Wizardus pogon is an example of phenotypic plasticity, this is not the case. The beard is a basal trait that will manifest in 98.3% of individuals (Schiaparelli, 2019) excepting the isolated population discovered to have been living in the basement of a gastropub converted from a church in Portland, Oregon (Müller, 2022). For the purposes of this paper, the subspecies Wizardus pogon hipsterensis will serve as an outlier, as their beards rarely grow beyond a few inches in length, and these tending towards darker colors (Müller & Babcock, 2023).

As is apparent in the case study of Gandalf the White (née Grey) Wizardus manifestation of the beard occurs early in life, with several documented cases of young hatchlings bearing beards comparable to adults’ (Bicknell, 1985)(Tanner, 2001). One specimen collected in the Galapagos by Charles Darwin during his earliest expedition on the Beagle sports a beard that was measured to an impressive 2.68 meters in length (Darwin, 1832).

Gandalf the White’s other iconic trait, of course, exaggerated mammary tissue, was acquired much later in life; this is the case in all other recorded instances of breast development in the genus (Bicknell, 2005). In accordance with the general consensus of the taxonomic and biologic fields of study, this strongly implies that the trait in question is under sexual selection (Dart, 2011). Considering the manifestation of breasts is limited to the most prominent individuals such as Parton the Bardic, breasts in Wizardus pogon can be understood to be primarily a display feature (Müller, 2019). Parton the Bardic is herself a notable specimen in that she lacks the iconic beard — however, several respected academics and geneticists have determined that is is likely due to a mutation that has led to exceptional hair growth from her scalp, as opposed to facial hair (Abbets, Babcock, Tanner, 1990). Despite this singular deviation from the species norm, Parton has still manifested the marker of strength and influence among Wizardus pogon.

#mar posts

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muchadoabout · 7 months

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Don Carlo at the Bavarian State Opera

Music Direction Daniele Rustioni Producer Jürgen Rose Don Carlo Charles Castronovo Elisabeth of Valois Maria Agresta Filippo II John Relyea Rodrigo, Marquis of Posa Boris Pinkhasovich Princess Eboli Clémentine Margaine The Grand Inquisitor Dmitry Ulyanov | 28.07.2023

The grey and gloomy weather did not hinder the enthusiasm of the audience at the Bavarian State Opera, where they gathered to witness Jürgen Rose's masterful production of Don Carlo. I only managed to secure a standing place for this sold-out production. Nevertheless, it turned out to be an excellent location at a very reasonable price. My view remained mostly unobstructed, making it a better experience than the more expensive seat I had in Zürich.

The staging was simple, kept minimal for most of the time. The first scene started in the dark Fontainebleau forest, with a giant crucifix serving as the centerpiece and a constant reminder to the omnipotence of the catholic church in the storyline.

The best part of the staging was the auto-da-fé scene. The condemned heretics were tied up on a woodpile as the crowd sang the chorus. A red carpet was rolled out, welcoming the royal procession, followed by a parade depicting the Via Dolorosa, and ending with the presentation of La Pietà. The final scene of Act 3 peaked with the burning of the heretics (with REAL fire), which is often cowardly omitted by other productions. As the curtain dropped, it was greeted by a rapturous ovation from the audience (including me!).

It was a powerhouse presentation by the cast, but, in my opinion, the best performance award would go to Relyea as Filippo II. His commanding presence and emotive singing dominated every scene he was in. While Don Carlo is the title character, Filippo gets the best moments in the opera, from his iconic soliloquy to the duets with the other characters. This version also featured Lacrymosa, giving another opportunity for Relyea's Filippo to shine. I spoke to a young audience member during the intermission (we were probably the only ones who were still under 30). This was his third time seeing Don Carlo, and he said Relyea performed even better in München than in Covent Garden.

Castronovo and Agresta were solid as Carlo and Elisabeth, respectively. During the Fontainebleau duet, they constantly moved around the stage as if it was a rehearsed dance choreography, but it never looked unnatural.

As much as I was disappointed by Tézier's withdrawal, Pinkhasovich was still a top-class replacement. The audience went wild at the end of his bromance duet with Castronovo's Carlo. Ulyanov delivered exquisite vocalism as the Grand Inquisitor, although he sounded younger than Relyea's Filippo. I don't want to label Margaine as the weakest link here, but I wish she had put more subtlety in her attempt at hitting those high notes. Nevertheless, she was dramatically excellent in the role of Eboli.

TL;DR: I would stand up for 4,5 hours all over again for this production and THIS cast!

#THIS IS A SUPER LATE POST that may have lost its relevance #but anyway here it is!#Carmen review is coming up... it two months time lol!#Verdi #Don Carlo #Don Carlos #opera diary #Charles Castronovo #Maria Agresta #John Relyea #Boris Pinkhasovich #Clémentine Margaine #Dmitry Ulyanov

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