#truck crash 2016
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Cinnamon Sugar (Colt Seavers x Reader)
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
A/N: A spontaneous Colt fic because I saw The Fall Guy again and I'm hopelessly in love. Someone needs to get this man his coffee, and it might as well be you. ♥
Description: Colt Seavers x Fem!Reader, flirty fluff | Warnings: nada, just Colt being the supportive sunshine he is | Setting: before Jody (or AU without) | Word count: 2,129 | Gif credit: user tay-swifts
Imagine being Colt's old flame and reuniting under unexpectedly sweet circumstances
As it turns out, production assistant was just a fancy name for errand girl. At least that seemed to be the case for you in the nearly two years you'd held the title. Yet after everything you'd been through to get here, you couldn't lose this job. Nearly an hour after you were supposed to, you haphazardly assembled the daily morning coffees for the sound crew on Stage B, and were now rushing like mad across set to make the first of many apologetic appearances for the day.
"Excuse me, sorry," you repeat nervously as you duck around people.
You'd overslept your alarm after staying up nearly all night printing a mountain of forms for the design director. Having never even eaten breakfast, you calculated if you also skipped lunch, you might be able to catch up to your usual routine. You weave between the tents as fast as your legs will carry you, trying not to bump into anyone and lose your cargo of caffeine.
As you cut the corner around a camera truck, you're fixated on the tray of beverages in your hands, and you don't see the person right in front of you. You collide at full speed.
The tray flies back into your chest. You gasp as the lids of two of the cups pop off and pour coffee all down the front of you and the poor soul you collided with. You recoil and frantically try to catch the other two cups, but you're unsteady from the impact. A strong hand grasps your arm and keeps you from tumbling completely to the ground as you attempt to regain your balance and find purchase in the loose gravel. Despite your efforts to recover, the tray and all its contents falls at your feet. You're left drenched and clinging to the arm that's gripping yours.
You gape down at the mess, frozen in horror.
"I am SO sorry," you begin shakily, "Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry! I'm such a-"
The second you look up, it feels like time stops, along with your pounding heart. You would know those baby blues anywhere, even through the narrow visor of a helmet. He removes his headgear, and you stare in complete disbelief at the rugged, all-too-familiar face before you.
"Colt?"
"Y/N?"
He sounds equally stunned, his eyes filled with recognition.
"It's you," you breathe.
"It's you," he says, flashing a bewildered smile, "Are you alright? Did you get burned?"
"I'm fine. It was lukewarm anyway" you reply, embarrassed, "Are you okay?"
"Perfect," he nods distantly, "Long time."
"Yeah. Furious Seven set, right?"
"Close. Fate of the Furious," he recalls, "Summer 2016. Havana, and Atlanta."
"That's right. I can never keep the order straight."
"No one can," he laughs, lips twisting into a grin, "You look great."
"So do you," you smile.
Somehow, he'd gotten more handsome than the last time you met. Memories come flooding to the front of your dizzied mind. Many of hot summer nights spent by the pool, and even more of sneaking off together to the hotel rooftops to be alone. Even now, you could still feel the warmth of his strong arms wrapped around you while you talked for hours beneath the stars, sharing your dreams and imagining the future. You'd hoped desperately that he would be in both. And here he was, crashing back into your life and looking at you as if he'd never left.
Knowing you were already slipping back under the spell of his lovesome stare, the coffee dripping off your cheek and down your neck brings you back to reality.
"Oh, look at your suit," you despair at the splatters, attempting to wipe them away with your shirt sleeve, "I'm so sorry, Colt. You know me, always the klutz."
"Don't worry about it. It looks like it's water and coffee resistant," he dismisses, gesturing to the helmet in his hand, "I'm the idiot walking around with this thing on. Just trying to slip away for five minutes without someone yelling at me. Director's got a stick up so far up his backside today, I think it's stabbing his brain, if you know what I mean."
"Oh I definitely do," you grin, followed with a sigh, "I think the whole art department has it out for me at this point."
As you swipe away the last of the obvious drops, your hand lingers on his chest. Blinking, you remember yourself and quickly step back.
"Unfortunately, I don't think my getup is as resistant as yours. Probably should swing by costuming next," you laugh, looking down at your soiled, previously white blouse.
"What am I doing?" Colt admonishes himself before shouting over his shoulder, "Uh, can we get a towel over here, please? Or two? Thank you."
Much to your gratitude, another assistant walking by hands you each a towel a moment later, the studio logo emblazoned on the corner. You hurriedly rub the black linen over your face and turn your focus to your ruined clothes.
"Great service around here," he remarks.
"Coffee delivery notwithstanding," you add.
As he brushes the remaining droplets off his shoulders, his expression turns hesitant. "Oh, you uh, missed a spot. May I?"
You pause wiping at your sleeves and nod to him. He delicately brushes away your hair to dab your temple with his towel, and his touch is almost as soft as his gaze upon you.
"There. Good as new," he declares.
"Thank you," you say, proceeding to wipe at your java-stained jeans in an effort hide your flushed cheeks. "I had no idea they brought you on."
"I've only been here about a week," he explains, clearing his throat, "The last guy's wife just had a baby. I'm just filling in 'til he gets back."
Your stomach sinks at the news, and you try to conceal your disappointment as he continues.
"But yeah, we started the shoot for the big chase scene today. Just wrapped up the opening shots."
"Wow, that's great. I can't believe I haven't seen you around before now. Then again, I don't see the set much while the cameras are rolling. I'm mostly behind the scenes, running all over creation bringing this and that. Speaking of which..." You toss the towel around your neck and squat down to clean up your accident. "I know some people on Stage B who are probably wondering where their drinks are right about now."
Colt takes a knee and retrieves the tray for you, and you begin to stack the empty cups and sticky lids.
"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?" he asks, worry in this voice.
You flinch at the thought, "Not much if I hurry up and remake these."
"Let me help you then."
"You don't have to do that, Colt. I'm sure you're busy."
"I'm on break, and you only dropped them because of me," he insists, "Even if I wasn't, what are they gonna do? Start without me?"
You smile to yourself. There was no arguing with him. He was just as charming as you remembered, and twice as stubborn.
"Alright, you win, Mr. Bigtime Stuntman," you tease.
He holds up the last cup and he raises his eyebrow suspiciously at the letters scribbled in marker on the side.
"What does the 'C.S.' stand for? Colt Seavers?"
"Cinnamon sugar, actually," you chuckle, "Vanilla latte with exactly six shakes of cinnamon sugar on top. Executive producer's favorite. He orders it every single day, no joke."
"That sounds good. I might have to try that myself," he smirks, "Is there like a coffee list I need to put my name on? Or do I just...swing by your trailer?"
"Like they give trailers to production assistants," you scoff, standing up.
Before you can pick up the loaded tray, he snatches it off the ground and jumps to his feet. You know better than to try to take it back from him.
Tucking his helmet under his arm, he gives a little bow. "Lead on, milady."
"The machine's in the catering tent," you giggle, walking in that direction.
"Why are you running around getting coffee for people anyway?" Colt asks, following alongside you, "I thought you were writing the greatest paranormal, pseudo-thriller mystery romance movie of all time? 'Lovers of Lives Past.' What happened with that?"
"You remembered," you say, blushing.
"Of course I remember! I love that story! Did you finish it?"
You frown, reminiscing on the hand that fate had dealt you since you were last together. "My mom had a bad fall, and I took off a year to take care of her. She's better now, but when I got back, I couldn't find any work. The studio wouldn't take me back in my old role. Said they 'downsized the crew.' That included the writer's room. I couldn't even get a spot as a proofreader. When this position finally opened up, I had to take it. It was that or quit the filmmaking world altogether," you sigh, crossing your arms, "I don't know, after being away so long, working on the script didn't seem to matter anymore."
"It does matter. If it means something to even just one person, it matters," he states emphatically, "It matters to you, and it matters to me, so that's already two people right there. Look at you go, Miss Bigtime Hollywood Screenwriter."
His words get a snicker out of you. You'd missed that unbridled enthusiasm of his so very much.
"Oh Colt," you say, shaking your head, "I don't think I have it in me to write a real movie. Besides, you know how quick the landscape changes in this business. No one wants the stupidly optimistic, cheesy stuff I write. They all want gritty, dark scripts or things they can make ten-year franchises out of."
He stops in his tracks and immediately faces you. "Now that's where you're wrong. People want the cheesy. They want the hope, even if they don't know they want it. They need it," he insists, "I know you can do it. I believe in you. But that doesn't matter unless you believe in you."
You stare at him thoughtfully, heart swelling. He was wasting no time reminding you of all the reasons you fell for him in the first place. As if you could ever forget.
"You're sweet," you say.
Sweet. Warm. Inviting. Comforting. Your cinnamon sugar.
He smirks. "It's the vanilla latte."
You start walking once again. The catering tent was close up ahead, and the butterflies in your chest were building up with every step.
"So um, where are you heading next? When the other guy gets back, I mean," you stammer.
"I'm not sure. My schedule is actually pretty open after this," he answers, giving you a coy look, "Why?"
"Just wondering," you say, biting your lip.
"I was thinking of maybe hanging around here a bit. Slow down, take in the scenery, see the sights," he suggests, "You know anyone who could show me around town?"
"I might." You fight to suppress your excitement as you sense his meaning.
"Colt!" someone calls out from behind you, "Pyro wants to talk to you about the ramp launch! They're worried about the impact of explosion on the car with you in it!"
Colt comes to a halt and groans, bowing his head.
"This is why I had the helmet on," he says under his breath.
You look over your shoulder and see that the voice belongs to the stunt coordinator. He had been friendly the few times you'd spoken to him while handing out donuts to the crew, but at present, he looked less-than-thrilled to be delivering that message.
"I see you, man! I know you can hear me!"
He finally turns on his heel to shout back. "Alright, just gimme a minute!"
"Chief wants to see you now. They're almost done prepping the next shot!"
Colt pivots back to you, wincing. "I'm sorry. He always gets intense over fire stuff."
You laugh and take the tray from his hands. "You better go. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble either."
"I'll be back for that coffee. Cinnamon sugar, six shakes exactly," he says with a wink as he steps in the other direction.
You give him a thumbs up. "I'll keep the machine running."
Mere seconds after you turn your back, he calls your name, and you're spinning around again.
"Hey, Y/N?"
"Yes, Colt?"
"Promise me you won't give up on your story?"
"Okay," you agree.
"Say you promise," he points a finger at you, walking backwards, "Say the words."
"I promise I won't give up," you concede, grinning, "Promise me you won't blow up?"
"Cross my heart."
#colt seavers x reader#colt seavers x y/n#colt seavers x you#colt seavers imagine#the fall guy#the fall guy fanfiction#colt seavers fanfiction#the fall guy imagine#ryan gosling#my writing#colt seavers#why yes *six* shakes of cinnamon sugar IS a reference to the gray man how did you know? 🤎
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If your first instinct is to respond to someone talking about how people are conflating Zionism and Judaism in dangerous ways with 'why am I seeing Zionism on my dash,' you are part of the fucking problem, asshole.
My old shul just finished installing concrete blockades around the playground just in case someone decides to try to drive a truck across the playground while the kids are out there. Every synagogue I know has added more guards, more security. There was a car crash tonight outside a synagogue a friend of mine attends, and for a second when everybody could see one of the cars veering off the road toward the synagogue, the thought went through their head, essentially, oh, it's starting.
And the fact that posts like this, posts made by people who are tired and scared because they're being held to account for the actions of a country halfway around the world, over which they have no control whatsoever, posts of people saying 'please fucking listen to us,' are literally being held up as evidence that we're Bad Evil Zionists who should be purged? That's a fucking problem.
Since 2016, 2017 -- basically since I became Jewish -- I have made it a policy never to talk about I/P online because I don't actually think it's productive, and I have more productive shit I can be doing. The fact that I don't talk about it has been held up as ironclad proof of my opinions.
Think about that. The fact that I said 'I will not tell you what my opinion is because I think the way this is handled online isn't productive' seven years ago is held up as absolute proof of what I think now, and that those opinions are the somehow magically opinions that people who already think I'm a piece of shit want me to have so they have more reasons to say 'yeah, spider sucks.'
I didn't even have the same pronouns seven years ago. I lived 3000 miles away from where I live now. I own a company. I have two wives. But you're right, I must think the exact same thing about this thing that lets you hate me without thinking, 'am I the baddie?'
It's so fucking transparent. Zionist is now just "Jew I don't like," and Zionism is "any act Jews take which makes them visible in ways that don't involve groveling or dying." It's fucking pathetic. If you have spoken to a Zionist, you're a Zionist. If you have ever expressed any opinion about Israel that isn't 'it and all Israelis should be of course set on fire,' you're a Zionist. If you express no opinions at all about Israel, you're a Zionist. If someone already doesn't like you for whatever reason, they'll decide you're a fucking Zionist, and then that's all they need. Nobody ever questions it when they're told a Jew online is a Dirty, Evil, Zionist, and if you say you're not, actually, then you're a Lying, Dirty, Evil, Zionist.
Like, could y'all be any more transparent?
#the people calling me a Zionist also tend to misgender me#but i'm sure that's nothing that needs to be unpacked#no sir
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Peaceful Easy Feeling
Chpt 2 of Life In The Fast Lane
Characters - Frankie Morales x Reader, Santiago Garcia, Benny Miller.
Summary - As you and Frankie both reminise over your accidental meeting yesterday, you make plans to see eachother again, but will the two of you be able to get over your nerves?
Word Count - 6.8K
Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Fluffy!Frankie, Flirty!Frankie, Insecure!Frankie, use of pet names, mentions slight spice but nothing too explicit, mentions of anxiety and nightmares. Written in both reader's & Frankie's POV.
A/N - This chpt was meant to go a different way but I got so carried away that I decieded to split the rest into Chpt 3, which im hoping to have posted soon!
Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
June 24th 2016
You climbed into the driver's seat of your now very beat-up car—not that it was in the best condition before. Now with the bumper missing, the slight ripple in the metal of its bonnet, and the scratches left from the tailgate of Frankie’s truck, the car was definitely looking worse for wear.
You said a silent prayer that you had picked it up from a family friend for relatively cheap, and you had never been one to obsess over the looks of your vehicle; it was simply a method of getting you from A to B.
You stare out the windscreen and make eye contact with the kind stranger for the last time, unable to stop the smile turning up the corners of your lips and the blush working its way quickly across your cheeks.
You decide to take a page out of his book and chalk the new scratches up to character building. You honestly weren't sure if it was safe to drive without your bumper, but with as helpful as Frankie had been, you don’t think he would let you drive away if it wasn’t.
So, you put the car in drive and pull out of the slip lane you were both parked in. Allowing yourself one last glance in the rear-view mirror, you see him bending down to pick your bumper up and place it gently in the bed of his truck.
As you drove away from the scene of the accident, you felt both flustered and giddy at the same time. You can’t believe you crashed into his truck, yet he has been so kind and understanding. You couldn't help but think about how he had smiled at you and how his eyes had crinkled at the corners.
You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts as you make your way down the street. You still had a lot to do today, and you couldn't afford to be distracted. You were supposed to be meeting your best friend, Lianne, at the mall in half an hour.
Turning up the radio dial, trying to distract yourself from the incident that had just occurred. You start singing along to the tune of one of your favourite Eagles songs, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat.
Your thoughts kept drifting back to the man you had just met. You couldn't help but wonder what he did for a living, where he lived, or what his friends are like.
You couldn't shake the feeling that you had just had a genuinely meaningful interaction with someone, even if it was just for a few brief moments.
You pull into the mall parking lot, turn off the car, and take a deep breath before getting out. You spot Lianne waiting for you by the entrance, waving happily as she sees you.
As you walk towards her, you can't help but smile. You were grateful for the distraction that Lianne always provided, and you were looking forward to spending the evening with her. But even as you talked and laughed, your mind kept wandering back to the stranger and his truck.
As you and Lianne sit down at a café, she looks at you curiously. "Is everything okay?" she asks, noticing that you seem a bit distracted.
You take a deep breath and decide to confide in her. "I had a bit of an accident this afternoon," you admit, feeling a flush creeping up your neck. "I rear-ended someone in the middle of rush hour traffic today." You explain, through another surge of embarrassment.
"Oh my God! Are you okay?" She asks, concern knitting her brows together.
You nod, wondering breifly how she hadn't noticed the damage to the car when you pulled into the parking lot.
"Yeah, it was just a small fender-bender. The guy whose truck I hit was so…lovely. He helped me out of my car and made sure I was okay; he even cleaned my leg and put a band-aid on it when I fell on the sidewalk like an idiot. He was just sweet about the whole thing." You state this matter-of-factly, as if you were reciting a news article.
You told her all this while stirring your tea absentmindedly, doing your best to avoid the scrutinising gaze she had fixed on you.
"Well, that's good at least. I'm glad you’re okay Y/N, is your car alright? I couldn’t really see it when you drove in." Lianne smiles sympathetically.
"The car has definitely seen better days, but Frankie said one of his friends could fix it for cheap for me, so that’s good." You shrug, not really caring about the car. Just more about seeing him again.
"Oooh, Frankie? Are you sure that the accident is all that’s got you distracted?" She asks as she bobs her eyebrows up and down suggestively.
You can’t help but laugh at her, still fidgeting with your teacup and trying to find the words to explain the pull you felt towards the handsome stranger.
"Okay, you got me there, but… I just had this weird feeling when I met him. Like, I was meant to bump into him or something."
Lianne raises an eyebrow. "Meant to bump into him?" she laughs at the almost pun.
You nod and laugh along, feeling silly for even bringing it up. "I don't know; it's probably nothing. But I just can't seem to shake the feeling that I was supposed to meet him."
Lianne chuckles softly. "Well, stranger things have happened. Maybe it's fate, or destiny, or whatever you want to call it. Maybe you were meant to meet this guy for a reason."
"Oh yeah, 'cause that’s just my luck." You retort, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"Hey, you never know. Maybe he's your soulmate." Lianne reasons, and there is a slight humor in her tone.
"Don't be ridiculous, Lia. I just met him. Besides, I don't believe in soulmates; you know that." You reminded her, shaking your head at the idea.
"Ugh, I know, but really? Why not?" Lianne raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, clearly exasperated at your lack of scepticism.
You take a sip of your tea, considering her question.
"I don't know; I just think that the idea of there being only one perfect person out there for each of us is kind of…restrictive. What if you never meet them? Or what if you do, but they're in a different part of the world, or they're already married, or…"
Lianne interrupts you: "Okay, okay, I get it. You don't believe in soulmates. That's fine. But you have to admit, there was something special about this guy, right?"
You nod reluctantly and say, "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he was really nice. And he had this…energy about him, you know? Like he was genuinely happy to be helping me, even though I'd just crashed into his truck." A small smile plays on the corners of your mouth as you remember how eager he had been.
"See? Maybe it's not soulmates, but there's something there. Did you get his number?" Lianne beamed.
"He has my number—and my bumper, for that matter; he said he would call me tomorrow once he speaks to his friend, and he kind of invited me to dinner", a buzzing from your pocket distracts you; apologising to Lianne, you pull your phone out and see a text.
When you unlock your phone, you find it's from a number you don't recognise that isn't saved in your phone. It's from him. You take a deep breath, open the message, and read it aloud to Lianne.
"Hey, it’s Frankie the guy with the truck.
I just wanted to check in and make sure you got home okay.
Also, my friend can take a look at your car tomorrow if you’re free?
x"
You stare at your phone, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. You glance up at Lianne and can see she is grinning at you like a Cheshire cat as if to say, ‘I told you so'.
"Oh, would you calm down; he’s just going to get my truck fixed for me, and that’s it!" You laugh at your friend's enthusiasm, and as much as you would like to join her, you needed to keep a level head.
If you were being honest with yourself, it felt like you were floating. One simple text from this man, a practical stranger to you, had you wondering if you had gone back in time to your first teenage crush.
Butterflies are battering violently around your belly, threatening to burst out as you quickly type a reply.
"Hey, Frankie,
Thanks for checking in! I ended up meeting a friend for coffee, but I got here in one piece!
That would be great; I have no plans tomorrow, so just let me know when works for you guys.
x "
You can feel your face heating up; Lianne is looking at you expectantly, clearly waiting for you to tell her what you responded with.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You laugh at your friend, who can barely contain herself.
"C'mon, spill the beans, Y/N!" Don’t make me force it out of you! She pleads with you, literally perched on the edge of her seat in excitement.
"I just told him that I met a friend for coffee and that I'm free tomorrow, that’s all! I'm sorry, there are no juicy details for you to drool over." You cock your eyebrow at her, teasing.
You know that she is just excited at the potential of a romantic relationship after your long spell of singledom. In truth, you don't mind being single; it wasn’t something you gave much thought to. You are happy with your own company and that of your family and friends.
"No, I think you meant to say there are no juicy details yet." Lianne grins as she rubs her hands together mischievously.
"Sure sure, that’s exactly what I meant," you mutter sarcastically while rolling your eyes.
You both finish your drinks, gather your things, and make your way out of the café. Noticing that it’s starting to get dark out, the crickets chirping away in the background, and the streets growing quiet, you offer to give Lianne a ride home; she only lives about ten minutes from you, and you welcome the company.
She gladly accepts the lift, but you can see the worried expression growing on her face as the two of you approach your car. You answer her question before she has a chance to speak.
"Don’t worry; it looks way worse than it actually is. The car runs fine, and I promise it's just cosmetic damage, thankfully. One accident is more than enough for me today," you joke, nudging her with your shoulder as you make your way to the driver's seat.
The two of you chat about her plans for the weekend as you drive and agree that you will take a walk with her on Sunday evening. She asks if you are planning on going to dinner with Frankie tomorrow, and you admit that you don’t quite know what the plan is but that you will wait and see what happens.
You pull up outside her apartment block, and she says her goodbyes as she climbs out of the passenger seat. Before she closes the door, she leans down, holding her hands to her chest as if she were about to say a prayer.
"Please, please promise me you will call as soon as you get home tomorrow and fill me in on all the details?" She was giving you her best puppy dog eyes, and it works like a charm.
"Yes, Lia, if anything exciting happens tomorrow, you will be the first to know. Do you need me to pinky swear?" You laugh as you lean over the centre console towards her side of the car.
"Alright, I'm not that bad! But be safe and call me if you need me, and if you go to dinner, let me know where he is taking you, so I know where you are, okay?" Lianne asks tone suddenly serious.
"Of course, Lia, thanks; I appreciate it," you say sincerely and nod your head in promise.
This is one of the things you loved most about Lianne; she is loyal, and she protects her loved ones fiercely. She watches a little too much true crime, but you can’t blame her for being protective; there sure are a lot of weirdos in the world.
The drive back to your house is short, the exhaustion of the stressful day finally catching up to you as you pull into your driveway for the second time this evening.
After unlocking and relocking the front door behind you, you throw your keys into the checkerboard-printed ceramic bowl on the small wooden console in the hallway and let your bag drop from your shoulder.
You kick your shoes off and make your way to your bathroom, methodically washing your face and brushing your teeth. Absentmindedly, you pick up your phone.
There’s another text, and it’s from Frankie. You are suddenly much more interested in the device you as you pause to read the message. The toothbrush still hanging out of your mouth.
‘Hey Hermosa,
I just wanted to check if 2 p.m is okay for tomorrow?
x'
Your face heats up as you remember how his voice got low and rough when he spoke in what you imagine to be his native language by the way it effortlessly rolled off his tongue.
You have never heard such an inviting sound. It made your skin flush, and thoughts of what it would be like to feel him murmur the beautiful language against your naked skin gave you goosebumps.
Your thighs pressed together of their own accord. You let out a quiet giggle to yourself at how much of an effect he already has on you.
Shaking the tempting thoughts from your head, you decide to be as bold in your reply as he is, your bottom lip catching between your teeth as you type your response.
‘Hey good looking,
2 pm is perfect! Do you want to send me the address?
x'
Hitting send on the message before you lose your nerve and change your mind, leaning against the bathroom vanity, and staring at the screen, hoping it’s not too much. You set your phone on the counter and finish your night routine.
You change into your pyjamas, which is really just a baggy t-shirt; you throw the comforter back; pick up your well-loved copy of ‘Crime and Punishment, and settle in for the night. You don’t even get through the first page when your phone dings from your nightstand.
‘Great!
The address is 629 Pennington Ave, 32357 Jacksonville,
It’s my friend's house; I'll meet you there at 2 p.m.
It’s a date.
x'
Excitement and nervousness settle over you as you set your phone on the nightstand. Picking the book off the nightstand, you try to read a few more chapters, but it's a wasted effort.
You are far too keyed up to read, deciding to pick out an outfit for the next day that was casual enough to wear during the day but nice enough in case Frankie asked you to dinner.
With it being the peak of summer in Florida, you know it's going to be another unbearably hot and humid day, so you picked out your favourite sundress. It's pale blue in colour, with tiny, delicate flowers printed all over.
It shows just the right amount of cleavage with a small drawstring that ties into a bow between your breasts and cinches you in at the waist to accentuate your curves.
The skirt of the dress flows to just above your knee. To make the outfit a little less dressy, you lay out a light-wash denim jacket and a pair of white sneakers.
You're happy with your choice, and with one less thing to fuss over tomorrow, you crawl back into bed. Leaning over and switching off the bedside lamp, you smile to yourself and curl into the comforter, hoping the exhaustion from today's events will allow you a good night's sleep.
But with the anticipation of seeing him again, you don't think it's likely.
June 25th 2016
Frankie wakes to the alarm screeching from his bedside table.
A loud groan escapes his lips as he rolls to the other side of the bed, his long legs tangled in the sheets. His hand frantically batted around until his fingers met the offending sound.
Groggily, he squints his eyes at the time, 8 a.m. Cursing under his breath, he swipes his thumb across the screen to silence the alarm.
Rolling onto his back, he stares at the ceiling of his bedroom. Large, veined hands rubbed over his face, scratching through the coarse hairs on his jaw.
The morning sun casts a soft glow on everything it touches as it peeks through the thin linen curtains. Why does he always forget to turn his alarm off on weekends? He has absolutely no reason to be awake this early on a Saturday.
As he stares blindly into space, the first thing on his mind is you. How you looked so disbelieving when he first caught sight of you in his rear-view mirror when you hit the truck, How you stammered your apologies; how the sun glistened in your eyes as he cleaned the cut on your leg. Your back-and-forth texting last night
He was a bit embarrassed at how nervous he was about reaching out. A million thoughts raced through his mind, one after the other, as he typed your number into his phone.
"Should I call her? No, no, that's a bit forward. I should just text her, but what if she doesn't like texting? I did say I would call, but that was just a figure of speech, right? What if I call her and she doesn't answer? God, Francisco, it's not a big deal; just text her!" He caught himself as he felt the smile pulling the corners of his lips upward at the memory.
Knowing full well sleep would not find him again, he throws the sheets back and climbs out of bed, stretching for the first time that morning. Heading into the bathroom, he stands at the counter and looks at himself in the mirror.
It's not that he doesn't take pride in his appearance, but now that his line of work no longer requires him to be pristine. No more meticulous shaving each morning, and he could allow his hair to grow longer, like he used to wear it before inlisting many moons ago.
His curls had begun brushing against his forehead and the nape of his neck. Sure, he was probably due for a haircut, but he kind of liked it, and it was usually hidden under his cap anyway.
As he watches his reflextion, turning his head from left to right and back again, he can tell he has let things run away from him a little.
His beard—although it had always been a little patchy—was now creeping up ever so slightly over his cheekbones and down his neck, the grey and white hairs becoming ever more present.
Deciding now was as good a time as any to tidy himself up, he lifts the safety razor out of the bathroom cabinet and replaces the blade. Lathering the shaving cream with the brush and placing wide, thick stripes of it across his cheeks and neck.
Frankie carefully drags the blade across his skin, removing the sparse hairs that grew above his beard line; he does the same with his neck, taking extra care not to nick his protruding adams apple.
He debates going the whole hog and shaving it all off but decides against it, afraid he might not like it once it's gone. Or that you won't.
Turning the shower on, Frankie steps into the welcoming stream of hot water, letting it wash over the untidy mop of dark chocolate-caramel curls. As he stands in the steam, his mind replays yesterday's events for the second time this morning.
Except now, he's remembering how innocent you looked when you called him sir. How he could feel your heart racing as he placed his big hands on your waist to boost you onto the tailgate of his truck. How your breathing hitched when he touched the smooth, soft skin of your calf. How good and right it felt to be held in his firm grip.
He feels the familiar tingle up his spine and the throbbing ache in his cock at the thought, and he shakes it from his head as quickly as it enters.
He wants nothing more than to fantasise about you like that, but he won't allow himself to do it until he knows the feelings are mutual.
Doing his best to finish his shower routine without touching himself at the thought of you, he once again finds himself in front of the mirror, a tower wrapped low around his hips.
He admires his handy work with his facial hair, only to find himself concentrating on the empty patches where the hair stubbornly refuses grow. He has never given any thought to that until now.
Frankie realises then that it's because he wants to look his best for you; he hasn't felt like this since he was a teenager, his thoughts all consumed by a woman he met only a day ago.
"Get a hold of yourself, Francisco; why would she be interested anyway?" He scolds himself, but he can't help but hope that he was wrong and that you were feeling the same butterflies in your chest as he was.
Walking back to his bedroom he finds himself standing in front of the dresser. What the hell was he supposed to wear? He's probably going to end up helping Benny with your car, so there's no point in dressing up just to get dirty.
He planned to ask you if you would join him for dinner tonight, so he threw on a pair of tan cargo trousers he uses for work and a grey crew-neck t-shirt.
Frankie throws his nicest pair of jeans and a flannel dress shirt into an overnight bag. If he is lucky enough for you to say yes to dinner, he'll wash up and change at Benny's place.
As he finished getting dressed, he ran his hands through his damp, unruly curls and placed the last missing piece on top of his head—his well-worn 'Standard Heating Oil' baseball cap.
It had been given to him by his mother. It wasn't necessarily a gift; she just saw it and thought he would like it. She always made a point of picking him things up when she saw something he liked, knowing he never usually spends money on himself. Frankie makes a mental note to give her a call later this week and see how she is doing.
The cap was the only thing he had brought with him when he deployed, to remind him of home. He remembers tearing it from his head and holding that very cap to his chest, right over his heart, with a vice grip on several occasions, as if it were a talisman.
When missions hadn't gone according to plan and he thought he might not make it back to his family and friends. In the end, though, he always got out with thankfully minor injuries.
So for that reason, he considers it his good luck charm and refuses to leave the house without it; even if he is going somewhere "formal," which is rare, he always brings it with him in the truck.
Frankies phone rings, pulling him out of his reverie. He picks the phone up off the nightstand, pulling the charging cord from the port, and, glancing at the screen, it's Pope. He answers the call and is greeted by a very cheery Santiago.
"Hola Hermano, how are you?" Pope's voice sounds chirpily from the speaker.
"Hey, I'm alright, what's up?" Frankie asks suspiciously. He had spoken to pope less than twelve hours ago, and it wasn't like him to call this early in the morning.
"Nothing's up. Can't I just call to catch up with my mejor amiga?" He responds innocently.
"I would usually agree, but considering I dropped you off not twelve hours ago, I'm assuming something is up?" Frankie shoots back with a chuckle.
"Okay, that's fair enough. I was going to call into your place to hear more about this pretty lady you're helping out this afternoon." Frankie can hear the shit-eating grin on Santiago's face through the phone line.
"I knew you were digging; feel free to come over, but theres nothing to tell," he deadpans.
"Alright, alright, I'll see you in five." Pope laughs and hangs up the phone.
The last thing Frankie wants is Pope grilling him about you when there is really nothing to tell. As much as he felt a connection to you, he was certain that he was letting his imagination run away from him and that in reality you were just being polite.
Right on cue, Santi is walking through the front door of Frankie's house. Taking in his surroundings and appreciating the fact that nothing had changed in this place; everything still lived where it had the last time he visited.
"Morning, you want coffee?" Frankie greets Pope as he strolls into the kitchen.
"Please! So what happened yesterday? You were pretty tight-lipped with the details around the guys last night," he asks, arching a thick brow and leaning against the kitchen island.
"Same thing I told you yesterday—nothing really happened; she rear-ended my truck and fell on her way to give me her insurance information. I patched up her leg, and that was that." Frankie retells the same shortened version of events as he had the day before.
"Frank Who are you trying to kid here? I can see right through you; you've been on cloud nine since you picked me up yesterday. This girl clearly has something to do with it." Pope insisted; he was observant; Frankie had to give it to him, but really, what was there to say?
"Fine, everything I told you is pretty much what happened, but… I told her not to worry about the insurance and that I would get Benny to fix her car, and I asked her to dinner." That's all. Frankie admits sheepishly, his large veined hand rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck.
"Ahhhh, you see, I knew there was more to this story than you were letting on last night!" Pope wagged his finger in Frankie's direction, obviously pleased with himself.
"Oh, of course you did; I forgot you were omniscient." Frankie snarks back with a roll of his eyes.
"Not omniscient, I just know you too well, Hermano! So what's this girl like? Did she say yes? She's clearly done a number on you if you asked her to dinner," Pope asks, eyes gleaming at the prospect of new information.
"That's true; she said yes to dinner; she actually gave me this note."
Frankie chuckles, sliding the note, which is now very worn from his constant folding and unfolding, across the counter to his friend before continuing.
"She said yes to dinner. I just feel like I read more into it than I should have known. I don't know if she's interested in me or just being polite." He lets out a long sigh and looks back at Pope, already waiting for a snarky comment, as he watches his friend read over your neat handwriting. but what he receives is understanding.
"Yeah, I get it, bud, but from that note, from what you've told me about meeting her yesterday and my infanite wisdom with the ladies," he pauses to give Frankie an exaggerated wink before continuing. "I think she is definitely interested! And if I'm wrong, then so what! What have you got to lose?" Pope grinned, glad his friend was finally taking a chance on someone.
"Just my pride, so, you know, nothing major," Frankie huffed out a laugh.
"Listen, on a serious note, I just wanted to come over and make sure you were okay after yesterday. I know things like that can bring up some shit." Pope said, his tone suddenly sombre.
He stood from his seat on the island and walked around to clasp a firm grip on Frankie's shoulder. reassuring him that he could be honest and tell his friend if he was going through something.
Frankie smiled genuinely, appreciating how much Pope looks out for him, even if he is gone the majority of the time.
"No, I'm good, Pope; meeting Y/N was honestly like a breath of fresh air; no nightmares or anything last night." He beamed, realising that for the first time in what felt like years, he had actually had a full night's sleep; he felt well rested, and his anxiety was at bay, aside from the nerves about seeing you again, which he tried desperatly to squash down.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Frankie; it's about time you got some well-deserved rest. Ah, so her name is Y/N then? There is more to learn yet," Pope says, playfully jabbing Frankie in the ribs.
Frankie has never really believed in soulmates or in "fate" bringing people together, but he had to admit that meeting you yesterday felt different; it felt special in a way he had never experienced before. It was like he was supposed to be at that stop light at just the right time.
He's never been more grateful for Pope; after all, if he wasn't on his way to pick him up, he would never have met you. Though Frankie keeps this thought to himself, Pope's head is big enough already; he doesn't need this information to inflate it more.
"Right, I have to shoot. Im meeting Will at the diner for breakfast. You joining us?" asked Pope as he shrugged out of his light jacket, picking up his keys from the countertop.
"Nah, I'm good. Im going to run some errands and then head over to Benny's; I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow though." Frankie assures him.
"You better, I want to hear more about this lovely lady!" Pope gives him a quick hug and a pat on the back before heading out of the kitchen. Leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.
He needed to find something to occupy his mind as he waited for it to be an acceptable time to head to Benny's. He did a once-over of the house with the vacuum. Frankie has always liked his place to be clean and tidy, as he finds it helps with his anxiety.
Once that was finished, he grabbed his keys and headed into town. Frankie wants to do everything right by you and wants to give you everything you deserve and more. He knows he doesn't know anything about you yet, but he decides to pick you up some flowers.
As Frankie hits the town centre, he mumbles a low "Yes!" as he swings the truck into a curbside parking space just a few doors down from the florist shop. Once the truck is in park, a thought occurs to him and stops him in his tracks.
"Shit, I don't even know what kind of flowers she likes."
While he is debating what to do, he stays in the quiet cab of the truck until he swings the door open and heads in the direction of the florist.
"I'll just take a gamble, see what they have, and pick something nice." He thinks as he pulls open the door. The aroma of fresh flowers and foliage greets him, and it reminds him of you, the floral scent of your perfume still lingering in his mind.
"Good Morning. Can I help you with anything?" An older woman asks from behind a rather large bouquet of what looked like fresias, but he honestly wasn't sure.
"Morning, ma'am, I'm just looking for a bouquet, but I don't really know what I'm looking for; I'm a little lost," he admits sheepishly, his hand returning to the nape of his neck, rubbing at the curls sticking out from under the cap.
"Okay, I can help you with that, no problem! Is it for a special occasion? Or a particular person?" She asks while making her way around the counter and coming to stand in the centre of the shop floor.
Frankie follows, and as he looks around, he can see they are now surrounded by what looks like a hundred different varieties of flowers, some of which he is familiar with from seeing them around his mother's house and others he has never seen before.
"It's, uh, a first date, or at least I hope it will be." He laughs and smiles politely at the woman. She returns it with a warm smile, understanding settling in her features.
"Okay, what about some pink roses? Or even some daisies if you want something less traditional?" The woman gestures around at the different options available. Frankies eyes follow her hand and dart around the room until he sees them.
They were the brightest sunflowers he had ever seen, with their massive yellow petals shining in the sunlight of the shop window. He knew they were the ones the second his eyes landed on them.
"What about sunflowers?" He asked the florist with the same warm smile she had given him a few seconds ago.
"We can certainly do that; are there any other flowers you would like along with them?" She asks as she lifts the bucket and brings it over to the large, heavy-looking workbench on the south side of the store.
"Just whatever you think would look best," he nodded.
"Sure, no problem. Could you give me about twenty minutes to make this up?" Asked the florist.
"Of course, take your time; there's no rush." He offers another smile and heads for the door.
He finishes the last of his errands over the next fifteen minutes. Frankie pulls out his phone to check the time and notices it's almost one in the afternoon. He opens his contacts and hits 'dial' on Benny's name. He answers in two rings.
"Hey Ben, are we still good for this afternoon, yeah?" Frankie asks, hoping Benny can't hear the nerves in his voice.
"Yeah, man, all good. What time is your, eh, friend going to be here?" Benny chuckled down the line.
"I asked Y/N to meet me at your place at 2pm so I'm going to head over to you in five if that's alright?" He asked as he made his way back up Main Street to the florist's shop.
Yeah, brother, no worries! I'll see you soon. Benny replied brightly, and Frankie hung up the phone.
Just as he was about to enter the flower shop, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Digging roughly in his pocket to fetch the device, Frankie looks at the screen, and his breath leaves him. He is standing with his hand on the door handle, staring at your name on his phone like an idiot.
He finally answers and greets you with a voice like melting honey: "Hola Hermosa, how are you today?" The smile growing on his face felt like it could split him down the middle.
"Hey Frankie, I'm doing a lot better now that I'm talking to you good-looking. How are you doing?" a light, breathy laugh sounding down the phone at him.
He swore that was the prettiest sound he had ever heard. In that moment, he was sure he could listen to it on repeat for the rest of his life. The thought of that scared the shit out of him. How has he been so enraptured by someone he barely knows?
Well, I'm awfully glad to hear that. Are we still on for this afternoon?" He almost crooned back at you, hoping the eagerness in his voice wasn't too obvious.
"I am indeed; that is, if you still want to." He could hear the nerves in her sweet voice, and it made him relax a little. He was glad he wasn't the only one who was anxious about this afternoon.
"Of course I do, I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Y/N," Frankie admits before continuing, "Benny thinks he has all the parts he needs to fix your car, so it shouldn't take us long." He debates asking you to dinner then and there but decides to wait so he can give you the flowers.
"You are?" you ask, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Of course I am hermosa; Benny is also looking forward to meeting the woman daring enough to take on the truck." Frankie huffs out a laugh, trying to cover his chagrin.
"That makes me really happy… that you're looking forward to it; meeting Benny on the other hand is sending my nerves into overdrive if I'm being honest," you let out another soft laugh.
"Don't be nervous; he's the human equivalent of a golden retriever." He laughs heartily.
Okay, I'll make sure to bring some tennis balls." You deadpan, and it sends Frankie into an uncontrollable fit of belly laughter. His sides are aching by the time he gets a hold of himself as he commits your tinkling laughter to memory.
"I like that sound," she murmurs into the receiver. Frankie isn't even sure if he was meant to hear it, but it spreads its way through his chest and squeezes around his heart.
"I could say the same thing to you," he whispers, his voice thick and rough with emotion.
"I will see you soon then?" You confirm with him that you don't care if you sound desperate or overeager.
"Tan pronto, Cariño" he promises, both of you stay quietly on the line, not wanting to be the ones to end the phone call.
"Adiós Frankie," you all but purr, and he feels his knees get weak.
As he stands by the shop window, Frankie tightly grips his phone while leaning his back against the glass. With his free hand, he removes the baseball cap from his head, running his fingers through the soft and thick curls at the back of his neck.
Chuckling to himself, he shakes his head again before proceeding towards the entrance of the shop.
He gazes at the breathtaking arrangement crafted by the florist, momentarily taken aback by its intricate beauty. The arrangement is adorned with bright yellow sunflowers and delicate blue cornflowers scattered throughout.
Grateful for the artistry of the florist, he manages to stammer out his thanks. She tries to hand him his change, but he insists that she keep it as a token for her hard work. Frankie wishes her a good day before turning on his heel and leaving the store.
As he walks towards his car, he realises that he's humming a tune under his breath. It's a song that he hasn't thought about in years, but now it seems like the most fitting song in the world. He chuckles to himself, feeling like a teenager again.
Climbing into the truck, he gingerly sets the flowers on the backseat. He unlocks his phone and flicks his thumb across the screen, opening the Spotify app, selecting the 'This is Eagles" playlist, and hitting play on the song he had just been humming.
Frankie let his head fall back against the headrest, eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips. He's lost in the music, swaying his head back and forth as he sings along to the smooth, melodic voice of Don Henley.
"Cause I get a peaceful easy feeling,
And I know you won't let me down,
'Cause I'm already standing,
Im already standing,
Yes, I'm already standing,
On the ground,"
He taps his foot to the beat, his fingers drumming out the rhythm on the worn-out steering wheel. Everything around him fades away, and he's lost in the moment, his deep, gravelly voice rising in volume.
As the song draws to a close, he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes once more and letting the final notes linger in the air. A moment of silence passes before he opens his eyes and exhales, a sense of calm and contentment spreading through him.
The next song starts to play through the speakers, and the familiar beginning guitar riffs of "Life in the Fast Lane" fill the cab, and Frankie is once again brought back to the memory of opening your driver's side door yesterday and being greeted with the very same song.
Putting the truck in drive and pulling out into the flow of lunchtime traffic, he continues to tap along to the music as he makes his way to Benny's house. As he makes his way to you.
"Ahh, Francisco, you're in trouble." He chuckles to himself and turns the radio up, unable to stop the grin that seems to be taking up permanent residence on his face.
#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales#frankie morales x fem. reader#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales fic#frankie morales fluff#triple frontier fic#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier#pedro pascal characters#frankie morales pedro pascal
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Post 1030
Richard Sepolio, California inmate, born 1992, incarceration intake in May 2019 at age 26, released November 2020
DUI Manslaughter, DUI causing injury
In November 2020, a 28-year-old former inmate, who was released in early after serving less than three years (including jail and prison confinements) of a nearly 10-year sentence, partially because of the COVID pandemic. Sepolio also received a reduced sentence for good behavior and for working in a prison fire camp.
He was involved in a DUI crash on October 15, 2016, a crash that killed Annamarie Contreras, 50, and Cruz Contreras, 52, a married couple from Chandler, Arizona; and Hacienda Heights residents Andre Banks, 49, and Francine Jimenez, 46.
When it was announced Sepolio would be released, San Diego County District Attorney, Summer Stephan said, “This very early release is unconscionable''.
Stephan further stated, "Department of Corrections decision is re-victimizing the family and friends of the four people killed and seven injured who have been devastated by their loss and continue to deal with the financial, emotional, mental and physical trauma caused by the defendant. This inmate continues to deny and minimize the crime by refusing to admit he was speeding and denying being impaired while arguing with his girlfriend on the phone, which resulted in the devastating crash.''
In addition to having drinks prior to getting behind the wheel, Sepolio was arguing with his girlfriend on the phone just moments before losing control of his truck on the bridge, the prosecutor said.
Sepolio testified he was driving on the transition ramp -- a route back to Coronado that he had driven more than 90 times before -- when he sped up to merge in front of another car and lost control.
Prosecutors said he was driving between 81 and 87 mph when the crash occurred. His truck plunged over the Coronado Bridge in October 2016. It dropped about 60 feet onto crowded Chicano Park.
In May 2023, the inmate petitioned the court. He sought to have his parole terminated early and his convictions for vehicular manslaughter while intoxicated and DUI causing injury erased through a new law that allows inmate firefighters an expedited path to purging their criminal records.
The law, which went into effect in 2023, aims to provide a smoother path for formerly incarcerated volunteer firefighters to obtain employment. Inmates released from custody can now apply for such relief if they successfully complete fire camp and judges can grant those requests if the expungement is found to be “in the interest of justice.”
While now discharged from the Navy, he elected to wear his Navy Uniform in his court proceeding.
This was his second attempt after the first attempt was denied earlier by the court. The second petition was denied.
3g
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If they had all survived that summer, what would their lives look like 27 years later?
THE BOWERS GANG IN 27 YEARS ☻
Belch Huggins
Twenty-seven years for Belch leads to a comfortable job at Derry Auto. His mother wanted him to go to college, but ultimately, it wasn't affordable — his father had ended up gambling half of the Huggins' savings — so he attended a trade school in Bangor and began working as a mechanic. He lives in his childhood home, taking care of his mother, who unfortunately began succumbing to dementia in 2015. While not yet married due to, quite frankly, not having the time, Belch is enamored with a kind waitress with a sarcastic streak down the road, and is hoping to have a ring for her one day. Overall, it's bittersweet, but he has a lot of hope for the future. He keeps in touch with Henry and Victor, but hasn't spoken to the off-the-grid Patrick since 2001 after he'd crashed at Belch's house when he was running from an ex-fling (probably that Sherry chick from twelfth grade, but he didn't ask any questions, nor did Patrick ever say thank you).
Henry Bowers
If we nix the murder charges and subsequent institutionalization, twenty-seven years for Henry leads to a life on the margins of Derry. Upon his eighteenth birthday, Henry was kicked to the curb by his father, leading to him crashing at Belch's, which was a surprisingly decent dynamic. Still, he struggled with no longer being the top dog of Derry High School, and instead. Like Belch, Henry attended trade school, and became a truck-driver for Sysco. The long hours and lack of sleep led him to become a fervent drinker, and whenever he returned to Derry for the few days he had before his next venture, he'd drink like a fish and end up in jail for the night, covered in his own vomit — by age twenty-five, Henry had eight counts of aggravated assault and ten counts of public intoxication to his name. In 2016, Henry is coping with the complicated feelings of his father's accidental death while drinking on the job by drinking on his job, living in the same apartment complex that Beverly Marsh lived in back in '89. He keeps in contact with Belch and Victor; the last time he'd heard from Patrick was in '92, when Patrick had been on a drug escapade somewhere next to a payphone.
Patrick Hockstetter
Twenty-seven years for Patrick leads to a well-endowed rap sheet. Bored of Derry, nineteen-year-old Patrick stole three-hundred dollars from the Hockstetters' safe and hitched it to Augusta in the car his parents bought for him the year prior. This, of course, led to him becoming a public menace, as would any sociopathic teenager with a fake ID, and he ended up having a criminal record so severe that he was left no choice but to couch-surf around Maine, considering no apartments wanted him as a liability. In the years coming, he never really stayed in one place, bouncing between Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont. In 2016, he's started his own commune in rural Rhode Island (long story), which is very quickly falling apart due to his waning interest in anyone or anything. He doesn't keep in touch with any of the Bowers Gang besides a time in 2001 where he ended up crashing in Belch's to hide from an arson investigation in Van Buren. Belch, the poor son of a bitch, still thinks it was because he was running from a "crazy motherfucking ex". He took a bit of offense to that — he doesn't touch the crazy, he is the crazy.
Victor Criss
In twenty-seven years, Victor has a wife, a cat, and a more-than-cozy job as editor-in-chief for The Portland Press Herald. The only of the Bowers Gang to get into college, Victor spent five years at the University of Southern Maine for a degree in journalism — admittedly, he might've spent too much time hitting the penjamin — and met his future wife there, who he ended up marrying four years later. Though Victor is mostly content with his life, he still is haunted by the things he did in his youth, which has led him to a borderline abuse of sleeping medications to combat the insomnia-inducing memories of what he did as a member of the Bowers Gang. He keeps in contact with Belch and Henry — mostly out of loyalty — having not known what the fuck Patrick has been doing since '92 (outside of running from an ex-lover in 2001?).
#bowers gang headcanons#headcanon request#bowers gang#belch huggins#henry bowers#patrick hockstetter#victor criss
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vro0m's rewatch - 187/332
2016 Brazilian GP
Alright penultimate race. Remember that if Nico wins this one it's over, and Lewis has never won there at this point. And it's actively raining! We open on the drivers truck about to leave and Lewis puts himself between Seb and Raikkonen, very close, very intimate.
The grid : Lewis qualified 0.102 ahead of Nico. Then it's Raikkonen, Verstappen, Seb, Ricciardo, Grosjean, Hulkenberg, Perez and Alonso.
The journalist on the drivers’ truck says the crowd has been shouting Lewis' name. Lewis says it's amazing especially given the weather for them to still be there and out. "Yeah I'm not Brazilian but I still have great support here which I'm so grateful for," he says. (And a handful of years later look where we're at! He IS Brazilian!) The journalist says Charlie has already stated it would be a normal standing start. Nice, Lewis says. He says he's glad they took into account the complaints that happened at another race that they should have started on the grid. He's very distracted because he's waving to the crowd and spotting his fans in the stands.
"Did you see your fan club there?" he's asked. "Ya." the journalist is kinda wholesome, he's not looking at Lewis, he's also looking at the crowd smiling wide with him rather than at him.
He says they have good reasons to be excited because Massa is saying goodbye and he might win his first race here. Lewis twitches. "Yeah it's not an easy race to win," he tempers. "Due to all these conditions every time we come, but it is one of the best grand prix there is and I just hope to be as prepared as I can possibly be."
Oh and later on in the build up we learn that Ferrari is appealing Seb's demotion in the Mexico gp. Good luck guys.
Ohhh and Grosjean crashed on his way to the grid. Lewis has been heard on radio saying it's very wet out there and it clearly is. The start is delayed. The drivers are split on whether they should do a standing start or a safety car start.
And it's gonna be a safety car start after all.
And here they go.
Lewis immediately radios in that he can't see behind the safety car and whether they can ask Charlie if they can follow at more of a distance because he can barely see the lights. Seb says there's a lot of water on the straight and between 3 and 4 which wasn't a problem earlier. Daniel also says it's worse than the laps they did to the grid. Are they gonna red flag it? Lewis must have gotten the green flag to put some distance between himself and the SC but he slows down a bit suddenly and we get a concertina effect that looks a bit dangerous in these conditions. Like, some of them are overtaking each other by mistake. Jenson says visibility is "non-existent". At the start of lap 4 Sainz thinks they can race but the visibility is on the limit. Ricciardo then says they're close. They're all agreeing basically that the track is getting better and the spray is the issue. Max says it won't get better if they keep going so slow. Magnussen says "it's easily ready to race". Lewis says when he pits later if they could find a way to block the top of his visor it'd be good because water is dripping in his eyes. Safety car in at the end of lap 7.
Nico was caught sleeping a bit. Verstappen overtakes Raikkonen for P3. Magnussen pits for inters?! That's not gonna end well. You can tell Nico is more cautious than Lewis. Someone has crashed I think. Yellow flash in sector 3 and I can see Gutierrez falling in the standings. Oh it's cleared! Maybe he just spun then. Jenson pits for inters as well.
Lap 10, still don't know what happened to Gutierrez. Seb is closing on Raikkonen. Alonso, Bottas and Massa pit. Inters for everybody. It still seems early for that. So many people in the pits. Kvyat, Palmer, Ericsson. Nico says he thinks it's too early. Ricciardo is closing on both Ferraris. Ohhh and Seb aquaplaned a bit there, Ricciardo is ahead. Oh no. Okay so. Initially he just kind of drifted on the straight but as he rejoins the track he spins for good and finds himself facing the wrong way. Scary, especially in such low visibility. He manages to go again thankfully. He pits. Oh there's a problem with the gun! 7.9. It's bad. Ohhh. Someone's stranded and someone almost hit him at full speed. It's Ericsson. Safety car. For some reason instead of stopping in the area between the track and the pitlane entry he stopped IN the pitlane entry. Bad idea bro. OH GOD. AS THE CAMERA PANS AWAY THERE'S A RBR OR TORO ROSSO CAR DIVING IN THE PITS AT FULL SPEED. Did they collide?! There's debris from Ericsson's car in the middle of the track as well, that's what the camera was panning to. It's Max who pitted. He had to take evasive action. And the pitlane is now closed. It's unfair! Really stupid from Ericsson as well. Also Ricciardo is now in as well so? Lewis asks if it was someone on inters and he's told yes. Lewis says there's still way too much standing water. Nico is told they expect the rain is gonna get worse actually. Bad news for the inter boys. And we see a replay of Perez doing a full 360 on the track. Magnussen says he thinks it's too wet now. Too wet for inters? His teams asks. Too wet period, he says. The pitlane is open again. Ricciardo is under investigation for entering the pitlane while it was close. Palmer pitted to get back on the full wets. "Lewis, just give us some feedback on current conditions in terms of spray." – "It's– it's no different." – "OK roger." Safety car coming in again at the end of lap 19 and Massa is under investigation for overtaking before the safety car line.
Here we go again. Lap 20. The order goes Lewis, Nico, Raikkonen, Verstappen, Hulkenberg, Perez, Sainz, Nasr, Ricciardo and Ocon, at the moment. OH AND RAIKKONEN IS INTO THE WALL! It just took a couple of corners and as soon as they crossed the finish line he crashed. Oh shit he bounced from one side of the track to the other and almost crashed into Verstappen in the process. Loads of debris everywhere again. They're definitely gonna red flag this at some point right? The safety car is back out of course. Yep, it's a red flag. We hear that Seb was calling for it. "Yeah we need extremes, first of all, second we need to stop the race. It doesn’t work. How many people do you want to crash? I nearly crashed into Kimi in the middle of the straight. Couldn’t see anything." Everybody is getting out of the cars. Lewis is talking with Pez, his start engineer. Nico is talking, in French, with a man about his visor. He's eating a banana. We see a replay of Max almost losing it on the straight as well and he says on radio he wasn't even pushing. Massa gets a 5 sec time penalty for overtaking before the safety car line. Daniel gets one as well for entering the pitlane while it was closed. Lewis then comes back out and talks with Bono. They’re very very close.
Okay we got the 10 minute warning for the restart. And here we go yet again, under safety car. Ocon immediately says the visibility is worse than when they stopped. Oh god. Perez is told heavy rain is coming (what did we get until now then?!) and they expect it will last FIFTY MINUTES. This race is fucked. Seb says it's still bad and Hulkenberg pits, which is weird because it takes him from P4 to P15. Nico says it's still very difficult. Oh Hulkenberg had a puncture. And Palmer has DNFd and nobody noticed. Max is told they're potentially expecting more rain as the commentators say they think it's getting raceable. Seb says it seems like it's getting heavier, he sees more rivers in turn 5 and says he's nearly lost the car several times around the track. Oh. Palmer is out because he crashed into Kvyat apparently. Somehow they didn't show us until now. And Max just overtook Nico under SC. And Perez behind him has to break hard to avoid him. "We should be going, Charlie." Lewis says with a touch of music in his voice. A couple laps later Ted reports that Max is saying the same thing and that the crowd is booing.
But they're not going.
They're red flagging it.
AGAIN.
The whistles are LOUD. Lewis, when told about the red flag, says the track is fine. The public is very, very unhappy. Drivers aren't happy about it either OH HEY! THAT'S WHERE THAT GIF FROM SHY LOVER CHARLES LOOKING AT LEWIS IS.
Ted says he gets that people are unhappy but names Jules Bianchi. And he's right. And we get another 10 minutes warning after a good long while. But the teams are saying they expect the rain to keep going as it is or get worse. We still have 42 laps to go and I wonder if it's gonna work out. They go again under safety car. And again we're told it'll do more than 1 lap.
It's lap 30. Lewis says the lap is no different and Max says it's a little bit worse but they can race and indeed the safety car comes in. Nico leaves some room to Lewis but behind him Max and Perez are so close to him they're almost overtaking each other. Max has positioned his car to overtake. Now Lewis slows down as well and he's gonna have to get it right. He does. Max is extremely close to Nico. Massa pits. Max overtakes Nico. We could barely see it happen with the spray. Ricciardo overtakes Sainz for P5. Seb overtakes Wehrlein for P10. Max was getting close to Lewis but Lewis sets a fastest lap. The gap is 1.5. 1.7. 1.9. There's tight skillful racing in the midfield. Seb is chasing Ocon for P9, half a second away. And then Ocon makes a mistake and Seb is ahead. OHHH and Max spins but miraculously manages to not hit the barrier but it's still costly because Nico who'd fallen back a bit is now wheel to wheel with him down the straight but Max stays ahead!
It's lap 40. Lewis, Max +6.7 (!), Nico +1.5, Perez +6.7, Ricciardo +0.5, Sainz +3.9, Nasr +7.5, Alonso +1.2, Seb +1.2, Ocon +4.3. Ted says Lewis has radioed in that his tyres are starting to fall off and he's been told to try to cool them down. Ricciardo pits. He serves his penalty. Goes away on inters. Let's see how that goes. Welp. Perez is told they expect heavier rain in 5 minutes lol. Massa, Bottas and Jenson in P16, 17 and 18 are also on inters btw. Seb overtakes Alonso for P8, and Alonso tries to come back but finds himself forced wide by the Ferrari! Max also pits for inters! It might be catastrophic for RBR if they got the weather report wrong. If they got it right they might get a nice undercut. And Daniel is setting good lap times at this point. Hulkenberg pushed Ocon wide. Seb overtakes Nasr for P6, and Jenson wants to go back on the wets saying the inters are bad. He's told other cars are still going on inters and he says he doesn't care, and cannot drive through the last few corners on this tyre. (I would trust him given his skills in wet conditions.) He pits. Oh and we see Nico had a moment as well. Bono describes it to Lewis as a "half spin exit 12 through 13" and tells him to be cautious. Gutierrez says there's something wrong with his car. There's a big fight for P7 between Nasr, Alonso, Hulkenberg and Ricciardo. They're all under a second from each other. Yellow flags in sectors 1 and 3… oh it's a crash again. And it's Massa. For his last home race. What a shame! Safety car out. And he's also stranded in the pit lane entry which means the pit lane is closed. He gets out of the car and stands there waving to the crowd. Bro it's dangerous, go away. There's a photographer there who hugs him and says something to him in a very animated manner and taps his helmet. It's sad. He walks towards the pitlane waving and then someone gives him a Brazilian flag and he holds it open behind his head. He's trying very hard not to cry I think. Ted says Lewis reported he had an aquaplaning moment. It's bad for Mercedes that the pitlane is closed. They would have wanted to change tyres, probably.
It's lap 50. 3 more laps and they get full points. Oh.
There's a marshal crying for Massa. It's cute. Massa is crying too now. Still walking sadly all alone with his flag under the rain towards the garage. Soppy. In the garage, his son is waiting. This is the saddest shit I've seen in a while. In the pitlane a couple of Williams workers welcome him and hug him and comfort him as he walks. His son is walking in his direction with his mom. OH MY GOD. I'm gonna start crying as well. All the Mercedes mechanics are lined up in front of the garage clapping for him as he walks past.
And his wife and son hug him right there. He's sobbing. I'm so emo, fuck. His engineer also kisses him on the head. Now it's the entire Ferrari garage flocking to him and clapping. And his dad is there hugging him. The pitlane entry is now open. But everyone is still celebrating Massa. The Williams people are also waiting for him clapping in a line. He's hugging everybody. They're all hugging him. So many people are crying.
Back to the race, Ricciardo is pitting for full wets again. Lewis is saying he can't keep the temperature in his tyre with how slow the safety car is going. Nico says there's more water now and asks how many crashes they wanna see. It's lap 54 and it's full points. Max says in the last sector "it's like a boat" and I read he also wants to go back on full wets. Verstappen pits. Now it's complicated. Of course Nico wants them to stop the race, he's second. But Max went from second to fifth because they pitted and now they're pitting him again. He's gonna lose out big time if they red flag it. He's P16 now. But they're not redflagging it! We're gonna go again! Here's the current top 10 then : Lewis, Nico, Perez, Sainz, Seb, Nasr, Alonso, Hulkenberg, Ocon, Kvyat. Here we go.
Nico is very close. Lots of movement in the back. Oh yeah. Alonso spun. Oof. His front tyres went on the grass and the grass shredded. It's just mud. He didn't crash though and is going again, only in P17. Lewis pulled a gap. Max is up in P12 half a second away from P11 already. And P11. P10 is Daniel though, and P9 is Kvyat. Let's see how that goes. Hulkenberg is very close to Nasr. And Max overtakes Daniel. Hulkenberg overtakes Nasr.
It's lap 60. Lewis, Nico +4.3, Perez +5.6, Sainz +3.0, Seb +1.3, Hulkenberg +3.8, Nasr +0.9, Ocon +2.2, Kvyat +1.2, no actually, it's now Max, then Kvyat, then Ricciardo in P11. Oof Max is now pressuring Ocon, who's catching up to Nasr. And Max is in P8. Gutierrez is out in a double retirement for Haas. He's shown throwing his gloves on the ground in the garage. Ricciardo overtakes Kvyat for P10, while Max attacks Nasr and is up in P7. It's really impressive what he's doing out there in these conditions I have to say. And Ricciardo is up in P9 after clearing Ocon. They're really the whole show in this race. And then he clears Nasr for P8 as well. Gutierrez and Steiner are having words. Seb is getting close to Sainz. But Verstappen overtook Hulkenberg for P6, and attacks him. But Seb defends and keeps his position for now. 5 laps to go. He attacks again, ohhh and Seb is on the grass… Was he pushed? He makes little work of Sainz, and that's P4. Incredible. Seb says he was pushed indeed. He says he was ahead. It's difficult to say tbh. Max sets the fastest lap and he's looming behind Perez now. What's the gap to Nico actually? Is Nico at risk? Oh yeah no he's not. Perez to Nico is 14.3 seconds and there's 3 lap to go. But he'll make the podium. Ooooof he attacks from the outside, Perez closes the door on him so he's off track but doesn't yield because he was ahead for sure and pushes Perez right back, he has the inside line in the next corner and they're a wheel to wheel in the exit and he's ahead into the next one! And that's the podium. And Seb overtakes Sainz for P5. Lewis starts his final lap.
And it's the end of the race.
Lewis wins ahead of Nico and Max. He's now ahead of Prost on the list of drivers with most wins, second only to Michael. He's also broken the record for the most different circuit he's won at, with 24. He is so so so happy on radio. Whooping, yelling, laughing. I'll post a clip of that. His first win in Brazil. Bono chuckles with him. Lovely.
In the cool down room he talks tyres with Max and how much water was in the last sector. Max is very very elated as well. They're all kinda hyped up. Then they say something about staying second and Nico says Max wasn't faster than him and Max says he was but only for one lap then there was more water and he didn't have the grip. I think Lewis is impressed with his performance and he asks what time he was doing then Nico says "did you get the wall in turn 14?" and Max says "no, I just – Oh my god, that was a big moment." Lewis alludes to the fact that Nico also has a moment. Nico nods with a smile. He asks how Lewis knows. "Coz I know everything that happened in the race," Lewis jokes. "I saw it on TV."
Brundle is conducting the interviews and he starts by thanking the public who stayed through it all. "What a race Lewis!" he says. "Not too bad huh?" Lewis says. They both chuckle.
He also thanks the fans. He says he was just chilling at the front and when it rains it's usually good for him. He says it was tricky for everybody though with the aquaplaning. He thanks the team, they are making history together. Brundle says he was talking about water getting in his helmet, was it the only drama for him? "That was the only drama, yeah. No mistakes, no issues, no spins." He says it was kinda interesting to hear along the race the people who spun behind him, but he didn't have that problem so he's very happy.
The crowd is very agitated but I'm not sure why. Cheering then booing then chanting things I can't hear then booing again then singing like at a football match : ole ole ole ole, something something.
Max speaks of his spin again and Brundle asks the others if they saw it and Nico says again he saw him pointing 90° towards the wall and Lewis says again he saw it on TV. Max repeats, baffled : "He was watching the TV!" (And now he’s the one doing so.)
Lewis says he'll give it his all in Abu Dhabi which is usually a good track for him but right now he wants to live in the moment. This has been his dream ever since the first time he saw Ayrton Senna race when he was 6. It's his first victory in Brazil and he says it's the 44th grand prix here so it's lucky. Brundle asks if it's one of his toughest wins, top 5 maybe? Lewis says it was one of the easiest ones. It was a very easy race generally. (I think he's being a bit cocky but I guess he really did not have any difficulty out front. The others did.) He says Silverstone 2008 was way harder.
Niki says Lewis and Nico did a perfect job and Verstappen was outstanding. Oh and Johnny says he's one in a generation and it's good for Formula 1 and for the future “because we're gonna see stuff like that– can you imagine? Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen going at it? It will be awesome!“ Will it though? Lol.
Lewis is very very happy he's finally won in Brazil. He says he remembers watching Senna drive there in ‘91 and thinking that's what he wants to do. He says he can now finally understand how amazing it feels and he's just super thankful and grateful to all the people who've helped him do it, his team.
They have proved this year they're the best team by far (they broke the record of the number of wins in a row or something like this I don't remember). He says in every area, “our hospitality, it destroys everyone else's, our food is the best, our guys in the garage are the best, our guys back at the factory are the best, my car is the best.” He's proud to be a part of it. The journalist says she has little notes about him because they didn't see him much during the race, how was it?
He says generally this is the hardest grand prix. He's been trying to win this thing for 10 years. But it just so happens that day was an easier race for him. He didn't have any problem, any mistake, any issue, nobody could match his times. It was amazing, he says. “Racing in the rain, here, on Senna’s turf, with Brazil watching, I mean it's a very very special moment which I will never forget.''
Finally she says the RBR guys pitted for the inters and it helped them (Mercedes) open a gap and if it wasn't for that stop Nico might have been further behind him in the points. “He got lucky today again,” she says. “Unbelievable,” he shakes his head, then laughs.
“When will it end. I mean RedBull made such a big mistake with that call.” He says there was never a moment, then says there actually was one moment after the first safety car the track was inter but more rain was coming. Other than that it was never an inter track.
He says when the team called him to say other people were going on inters he said they're crazy. He knew they'd have to pit again. And that's what they did. He calls it a shame. But there's nothing he could do about that. He says ‘he’ still had a great race and got back up to third, but it'd be good if they made good calls in the next race, he laughs.
At the end of the broadcast, Simon asks who's gonna win, Hamilton or Rosberg. Everybody says Rosberg : Brundle, Di Resta, Hill and Johnny.
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okay heres the rosquez history™️ im fully copying this from dms i sent my bff so- do not judge how it looks. i am truly sorry for this monstrosity and that you have to read it
okay so vale dominated the mid-2000s, he has 9 world titles, 7 from motogp (or 500cc back then) marc is uhhh 14 years younger i think? and he looked up to vale. like a lot. (he mightve had a poster of vale in his bedroom growing up)
and then marc starts riding in moto3 and moto2 and its like ‘holy shit that kid is so good’ but also he’s insanely aggressive ?? like so aggressive that he essentially develops a new riding style. and around that time there are a bunch of riders in motogp, namely vale and jorge lorenzo (who marc DID ACTUALLY have a poster of i think) telling marc to calm down and ride cleaner.
in 2013 marc moves up to motogp and life is good for him!! so good!! he becomes the youngest race winner ever and then the youngest motogp champion ever and hes like in love with vale and keeps making heart eyes at him but thats ok!! bc vale makes heart eyes at marc all the time too.
so in 2013 and 2014 everything is great 🫶🫶 theyre in love, vale invites marc to the ranch, blablabla theyre gay whatever. but then 2015 it all goes to shit
marc has a bunch of retirements so it becomes pretty clear that hes not winning the title again. but vale is very much in title contention (hes fighting jorge) plus marc and vale have fought like a lot of times on track and uhhh… things arent that great between them? but whatever bc at least its still cordial. until sepang where they’re fighting again and marc crashes and oops!! it looks like vale kicked marcs bike. vale gets a back of the grid penalty for the crash and he cant recover from that so jorge wins the 2015 title! and from that point marc and vale hate. each other. vale thinks that marc fought him so hard bc he didnt want vale to be champion/wanted a spanish rider to be champion and obvi marc is mad about the kick/alleged crash.
in 2016 they seem to make peace for a lil while? but then in 2018 argentine theyre fighting again. and like i said marc is really aggressive so he kind of crashes vale out? ( im biased towards marc he can do no wring sorry) and after the race marc goes over to vales motorhome to apologize but uccio (vales bff/truck driver/idrk hes just always there) sends marc away. vale later says that he did it bc he knew it wasnt a genuine apology ?
yeah and from that point on they just dont talk. they hate each other for a while, sure, but that fades to a dislike, and dislike fades into indifference and they just do not. care anymore
also there are a lot of other moments like the infamous handshake press interview thing, but also they apparently shook hands in private later? and them in 2020 marc crashes, misses a season, comes back in 2021 for like half a season, then vale retired blablabla they just don’t interact anymore but motogp still liked making them sit awkwardly next to each other in press conferences. uhh yeah that’s basically it but marc did talk abt vale recently and he talked abt how vale had a giant impact on the sport and also he said that he wouldnt act differently in 2015 bc vale was the one who lost his temper 💀💀
omg they really are strangers to hero worship to friends to lovers to enemies to reluctant colleagues with history to enemies again to strangers what the fuck. what is in motorsport water that makes men act like this
#anon you have my love for this thank you thank you. this was a rollercoaster of a read and i applaud you for your work#genuinely wheezing tho. like. can they be normal for once. can they#i need to know more. like. his bff sent marc AWAY ?????? insane. the vibe are so awful i am in love. is anyone surprised. no#sitting with this in my brain and seeing what will come out. hmm#rosquez#motogp lore#anon tag#niamh.asks
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Anne Carson
What to Say of the Entirety
a poem
The New York Review, February 25, 2016
What to say of the entirety. The entirety should be smaller.
Small enough to say something about. Humans. What if
the guy you’re hanging up by his thumbs already has a
razorplague of painapples roaming his chest inside. Do you
regard that as his own fault? Do you really need to make it
worse? Do you think of yourself as a well-loved person? Of
course these are separate questions. Like dead salmon and
coppermine tailings, separate. So these separations, this
anesthesia, we should ponder a bit. Humans. What can you
control? Wrong question. Can you treat everything as an
emergency without losing the reality of time, which contin-
ues to drip, laughtear by laughtear? Where to start? Start in
the middle (and why?) so as not to end up there, where for
example the torture report ended up after all those years
of work. You have to know what you want, know what you think,
know where to go. New York City actually. Here
we are. Trucks crash by. Or was that another row of doors
slammed by gods? They’re soaked, the gods, they’ve tucked
their toes up on their thrones as if they don’t know why this
is happening. Poor old coxcombs.
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Because this is too long to put in a comment. @firestoneslicks
My Indycar origin story.
There I was, merrily watching Nascar (which I got into because of a betting pool at my husband's work - randomly assigned drivers and we had to learn about who we ended up rooting for each race) and occasionally watching DWTS when someone interesting was on it. I heard that a race car driver was selected. I had no idea who Hinch was. I watched Indy 500s but really just because it was part of that whole day of racing. (I do vaguely remember watching the fuss about a rookie winning on fuel strategy in 2016, but like Rossi, I didn't really comprehend what a thing that was.) It was all I could do to keep up with the top three Nascar series (Cup, Xfinity and Truck). I didn't pay attention to any other type of racing.
So there was Hinch on DWTS - gorgeous, surprisingly talented (I'd been expecting the worst) and with a near tragic backstory. I adored him. I'm the type of person who needs someone who is "mine" to be interested in a series. Hinch quickly became "mine." So for the 2017 season, I made an effort to watch every race. The moment that sealed it for me was this: Texas, after Ganassi tried to blame Hinch for the big crash and Hinch said "That's adorable."
Gorgeous, talented and snarky? I was in love.
By 2018 I was growing more and more irritated with the direction Nascar was going and in the battle of races being on at the same time, Indycar won for watching live and I'd catch the Nascar race later. Then Kasey Kahne had to retire and I lost my one Nascar guy and couldn't find a new one (I like Blaney, but he never became "mine.") Without anyone to really root for in Nascar, Indycar drew me in deeper, especially as I learned about other drivers and deciphered how these very different from stock cars open wheel cars worked.
Hinch's friend Alex is grumpy and bitchy but talented and sometimes wildly aggressive on track? I love him and hate him but he can be mine Oh, he's got another friend, a goofy diabetic ginger who is an underdog? Mine too. Robbie Wickens... And it just kept spreading - Marco, Josef, Colton, the whole collection of 2022 rookies and so on, until I think I actively root for at least half the field now.
So, James Hinchcliffe is my first Indycar love and he will always hold a special place in my heart.
Now, everyone, tell us your Indycar origin story. What/who got you into it?
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a wip by yours truly
ABOUT:
genre — anthology, slice of life
target word count — 3mil
status — first draft
themes — family / politics / war / love, grief, and love, again and again and again
warnings — violence and gore / death / substance, domestic, physical & psychological abuse / big trauma
SYNOPSIS:
All the Sokolenko are born in cradles of thorn.
1942. Mykola was struck with blast injury when he accidentally detonated an entire minefield, turning 10 Germans into one-time astronauts. The bigwigs up above, they gave him a medal, a quarantine hut, and a Georgian nurse called Medea by his side. Two week in and they found themselves cuddling together in bed. Two years in and Medea vanished in the maws of the Reich, while Mykola sobbed under the mask of a cool, calculating soldier. Eight years in and they knocked together a home, an unadorned thing, a bare nest on a bare tree, for themselves and a Jewish orphan boy. Fifteen years in and Mykola was alone. Again.
1992. Rusudan scrubbed off the blood scarlet smudged lipstick marks round the corner of her mouth with a forcefulness that surprised herself. She had just made out with her husband Kaspars in the middle of a Sukhumi forest moments ago, intensely as if they were the wildlife they were studying, intensely as if it might be their last time. Last time…Why had those words occurred to her? The woman shook her head at the unfinished thought - all the mess and debacle with the troubles in Abkhazia shouldn't be getting to her like this, it was supposed to be their day, it was supposed to be their day. Even if there had been gunshots right behind your backs…a treacherous voice squeaked faintly in her head. All of a sudden, Kaspars froze besides Rusudan, jaw clenched and eyes blown wide, in the middle of what she now realised as a bosky, shadowy canopy. Before she could open her mouth and ask her usually stoic husband what it was that bothered him so, she followed his eyes and saw it - the telltale red glint of a sniping laser.
2016. Gennadiy leant back on the creaky plane seat, fiddling with a Christmas card sent early, by Father, of course - the old man was afraid of all things late ever since Mother's death. Just some days ago he was singing his head off with all his colleagues in the Army Choir; his head still buzzed with echoes of the applaud; that bel canto movement of yours would move a heart of stone, so they said. He cared not a whit - now he was feeling quite nauseous indeed from the stuffy air, and already he was longing for the fresh sea breezes of Sochi, which the plane left just minutes ago. And out of the blue a hand clawed at Gennadiy's shoulder, just when fretful whispers were devolving into a savage uproar. It was clammy, shaky, and Gennadiy was frightened to see that his whole body was feeling just the same. And yet, he himself barely understood the panic till he saw the Black Sea growing nearer, nearer, nearer, through the jittering window, God above are there any lifeboats or what, guys we are crashing down the fucking sea, send the fucking SOS stop screaming stop screaming, now what the fuck was that boom-
2022. Sergey gazed at the virgin soil upturned of the frost-laced dirt road across a barren forest, the morning sun smothered by steely snow. His thoughts were bursting in odds and ends, but as long as it lasted he would be able to distract himself from the cold air and the rickety truck. This is where great grandpa called home, apparently, thought the young man. Who's gonna tell him his great grandson is also spilling blood over fascists in the very same land? His face broke into a bitter grin most decidedly unfitting for a young man barely out of university. To think he and I will be fighting against the same bunch, a century apart…Sergey glanced backwards; all his fellow boys were asleep, the sleep of battered men to whom peace was flitting. The young soldier toned his grin down to a weak twitch in the mouth and went back to guarding, the cold steel of rifle pressing against soft palms. And at that moment, as the snow spun and the soldiers snored and the wheels creaked and the winds howled, Sergey thought longingly of a time-locked drawer at home, containing nothing but a letter and a scrapbook. It was for his newborn son.
All the Sokolenko are born in cradles of thorn.
#wip intro#wip: anthologia sovietica#writing nook#writeblr#original story#original character#original content#creative writing#slice of life#writeblr intro#writeblr introduction
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COLUMBIA, S.C. (AP) — A school shooter serving a life sentence without parole for killing a first grader on a South Carolina playground when he was 14 is asking a judge to lessen his sentence so he can eventually get out of prison.
Jesse Osborne's lawyer asked Judge Lawton McIntosh on Monday to reconsider his sentence so Osborne, now 21, could have some hope of freedom in his 50s or 60s.
Attorney Frank Eppes said the judge didn't fully consider a psychologist's report that Osborne's lashed out because of abuse and can be rehabilitated.
“Give Jesse some hope to live with,” Eppes said at a televised court hearing.
Osborne himself asked for a chance at life outside a prison cell, apologizing to the family of 6-year-old Jacob Hall who he killed and everyone at the school that day.
“I would just like to say sorry to every single one of them. Because my evil actions hurt their lives,” Osborne said. “I’m just going to try to better myself in the Department of Corrections the rest of my life.
But the teacher whose class was having recess, the parent of a wounded child, the father of the student celebrating his birthday, the superintendent who saw the bloodstained class rug and the school principal all said at Monday's hearing at the Anderson County Courthouse that they don't want to ever see Osborne out of prison.
Principal Denise Fredericks recognized Osborne as he paced outside Townville Elementary School with a backpack full of ammunition for 12 minutes after his gun jammed before police arrived to arrest him. Osborne had been a student there for seven years.
“I do wish Jesse a life where he can wake up, breathe, eat, work, be productive — but not outside the walls of a prison,” Fredericks said. “In my opinion, his current sentence is still so, so much more merciful than the sentence he gave to Jacob and our school family.”
Prosecutors said Hall's family didn't wish to speak in court but want Osborne to never be released from prison.
Osborne is serving two life sentences after pleading guilty. Before opening fire at the school on Sept. 28, 2016, he shot and killed his father while he slept in a recliner, kissed his rabbit and other pets goodbye, then stole his dad's truck and drove to his former elementary school, according to Osborne's confession.
Osborne crashed his truck into the school fence and fired at the first grade class celebrating a classmate's birthday at recess. Hall bled to death from a gunshot to his leg. Two other student and a teacher suffered minor injuries.
Uneaten cupcakes with the Batman logo could still be seen on the ground inside police tape hours after the shooting.
“My son hates his birthday now,” father Jeff Bernard told the judge.
Prosecutors said Osborne wanted to kill dozens but he was carrying the wrong ammunition and his gun jammed after every shot.
“He didn’t stop because he wanted to. The gun jammed. Thank God the gun jammed,” Fredericks said.
Osborne's lawyer said a video call he had open to a group chat with people who knew his plan showed him sobbing, upset and ready to give up after the first shots.
Osborne is asking the judge to consider a supplemental report from a psychologist that disagrees with prosecution experts who testified at Osborne's original sentencing that he is a dangerous and pathological liar with no remorse.
Osborne's brain was sill developing in his teens. The psychiatrists cited by the defense said he has shown guilt and grief and responded to treatment during the nearly seven years since his arrest on school grounds.
Osborne's lawyer suggested a 30-year minimum sentence for the two counts of murder, followed by 15 years for shooting at the other children and then lifetime monitoring by GPS after he is released from prison with one review after 10 years.
McIntosh asked for a detailed report from the defense expert in the next month and told prosecutors they would have at least 10 days to respond.
A number of students never returned to the school after the shooting. Some haven't returned to any school. A popped balloon ended a school dance in tears. Recess is still filled with anxiety, said teacher Meghan Hollingsworth, whose class was celebrating the birthday that day. Her child was in kindergarten just down the hall.
"The screams of children having fun sends a panic through me as I look to see who is screaming and see if they are OK," she said.
She asked the judge to think about a sign in her first grade classroom and uphold his life sentence handed down more than three years ago,
“You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequences of your choices,” it reads.
#nunyas news#he was 14 might have a case for mercy ya#not like the victims get that tho#rough choices
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Jermaverse Deaths
Jerma has died multiple times. Due to his status as an immortal, he can recover from each death fairly quickly.
August 25th, 2015 Jerma was tragically killed when he fell down some stairs while attempting to store a stockpile of weapons in his basement. Jerma's personal Assistant was the only witness to this incident. Authorities suspect foul play on behalf of the Assistant, who was known to have been mistreated by Jerma. The Assistant has been acquitted due to a lack of evidence.
On September 8th, 2015, Jerma used a neurostory electro-dump to catch up on the story of the Metal Gear series to get ready for the upcoming Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain. He purchased the device on the deep web. Due to the dodgy nature of the disk, the information loader was improperly calibrated, causing a cardiac arrest on Jeremy's third use of the device. An ambulance and fire truck quickly arrived at his old house, and he seemed to return from the dead shortly afterward.
On October 10th, 2015 Jeremy was playing with his Wonderbook and brewing potions when he sampled his own potion. The potion was "pretty tasty," as he so profoundly put it. Minutes later, first responders rushed to the scene to find him dead. By some miracle of God, Jerma has made a full recovery. He hasn't made a Wonderbook video since.
On March 21st, 2016 Jerma was streaming Overwatch when suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Moments later, Ster (who was hiding behind the curtains) snuck up behind Jerma, and after a short struggle, Ster stole Jerma's hat, saying "I'm you now." Jerma died. At that point the camera footage was frozen, but it later returned to Ster pretending to be Jerma.
On August 29th, 2016 Jerma died in Jerma Rumble - Live-Action after being thrown on a table by Glue Man and burned by a "shitty CG fireball" cast by Demon Lord Zeraxos. The only thing left of Jerma after this incident was his skeleton that had at least one broken bone. His death was filmed on 4 different cameras for the viewing pleasure of his audience. He would later recover all of his flesh.
On June 12th, 2018 Jerma on stream confirmed that he got too excited over Nioh 2's announcement and died. The cause of death was said to be four heart attacks in a row. Jerma was then replaced by Jerma to continue his legacy.
On September 20th, 2018, authorities arrived on the scene Thursday to find Jerma (Jeremy “Nine-hundred eighty-five” Harrington, 32) dead on the scene. Medical experts say he died from natural causes after being pinned under a CRT television weighing only 35 pounds. It appears his small frame rendered him incapable of lifting it to save himself. Further documentation can be found here and here.
As of January 23rd, 2019 at precisely 7:43 PM, Jerma has passed away from various diseases, diabetes, dementia, and STDs. He was a wandering spirit during Bio Inc. Redemption. As of 7:48 PM EST, Jerma has been revived.
On December 15th, 2019, King Jerma CMLXXXV of Jermalonia died of old age at 108, surviving multiple murder attempts and server crashes. He is to be succeeded by his son, King Jerma CMLXXXV the 2nd.
On August 21st, 2021, Jerma was prompted by Chat to swim in the Dollhouse pool until they later decided to remove the ladder of the pool, effectively rendering the pool inescapable. Jerma soon drowned and met face to face with the Grim Reaper. Jerma attempt to flirt with him and "Tried for baby with the Grim Reaper". The Woohoo was soon interrupted when Emilia (Later known as Ludwig) found out about the affair, making Death himself run away in shame.
On February 1st, 2022, Jerma was shot and killed by Ster after being mistaken for an imposter, though Ster claimed right before pulling the trigger that he could tell who the real Jerma was the whole time.
If a poster's dream is to be believed, (a version of) Jerma will/has once died after "peep"ing "the horror"
jerma-lore.fandom.com/wiki/Jerma985#Jermaverse_Deaths
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Half YF-12 and half SR-71: the story of “The Bastard,” the only SR-71C ever built
By Dario Leone
May 1 2018
SR-71C S/N 61-7981 was nicknamed “The Bastard” since it was a hybrid comprised of the rear fuselage of the first YF-12A and a functional engineering mockup of an SR-71A forward fuselage built for static testing
Taken at Hill Air Force Base (AFB) in June 2016, the interesting clip in this post shows SR-71C, “The Bastard” S/N 61-7981, that was the only C model Blackbird ever built and was the last SR-71 to be manufactured. It was nicknamed “The Bastard” since it was a hybrid comprised of the rear fuselage of the first YF-12A (S/N 60-6934) and a functional engineering mockup of an SR-71A forward fuselage built for static testing.
The plane was built to replace the second of the two B model trainers after it crashed on Jan. 11, 1968. The C model made its first flight on Mar. 14, 1969 from the Lockheed plant at Palmdale, California, with Blackbird Chief Project Pilot Robert J. Gilliland at the controls and Lockheed test pilot Steve Belgeau as Reconnaissance Systems Officer. After flight testing it was delivered to the 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing at Beale AFB, California, on Sep. 3, 1970.
The aircraft made its last flight on Apr. 11, 1976 and was removed from flying status on Jun. 24, 1976 with only 556.4 flight hours, not including the 180.9 hours accumulated on the aircraft as YF-12A S/N 60-6934. It was then processed for long-term storage at the Lockheed plant in Palmdale, California.
Half YF-12 and half SR-71: the story of "The Bastard," the only SR-71C ever built
This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. SR-71A Blackbird 61-7972 “Skunkworks”
Through the intervention of Utah Senator Orrin G. Hatch, Hill Aerospace Museum was assigned the aircraft by the Air Force in April 1990 and immediately began planning its relocation from Beale AFB to Hill AFB.
Representatives from the museum, the Air Force Heritage Foundation of Utah, the 67th Aerial Port Squadron, and the 405th Combat Logistics Support Squadron (CLSS) traveled to California in July 1990 to determine the best way to disassemble, package, and transport the aircraft.
Then a sixteen-member team from the 405th CLSS went to California in August 1990 and broke the aircraft down into three major pieces and assorted smaller components, including a J58 engine and start cart, palletizing them all for transport on a C-5 Galaxy cargo aircraft. However, when the disassembly operation was completed no cargo aircraft was immediately available to transport the pieces back to the base. Everything would have to wait.
In the Spring of 1991 representatives from the 67th Aerial Port Squadron and the 405th CLSS traveled twice to Beale AFB via two large, flat-bed trucks to retrieve most of the palletized components, leaving only the largest pieces that would require transport by cargo aircraft. In August 1991, one year after the disassembly had begun, air transport was finally arranged via a C-5 from Travis AFB.
Once all the pieces were finally on base, the aircraft components were gathered together in a large hangar belonging to the 405th CLSS for reassembly and restoration. Volunteers, Air Force Reservists, and many active-duty personnel were involved in the intricate two-month process of piecing the aircraft back together. On Oct. 16, 1991 the completed aircraft was towed to the museum and placed on display.
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Source: U.S. Air Force
Photo credit: U.S. Air Force
Artwork courtesy of AircraftProfilePrints.com
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Dario Leone
Dario Leone is an aviation, defense and military writer. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviation Geek Club” one of the world’s most read military aviation blogs. His writing has appeared in The National Interest and other news media. He has reported from Europe and flown Super Puma and Cougar helicopters with the Swiss Air Force.
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Post 1032
Trent Sheldon, Michigan inmate 977237, born 1997, incarceration intake May 2016 at age 18, released April 2021
DUI causing death
In April 2016, eighteen-year-old Trent Sheldon was sentenced to 3 to 15 years in prison after pleading guilty March 1 to operating a motor vehicle while intoxicated causing death. He also was ordered to pay restitution to Cody Hilliker, who was injured in the Jan.15 crash that killed Jason Schultz.
A truck from Schultz's employer, A Preferred Towing was parked outside the courthouse Friday during sentencing. People wearing armbands and T-shirts in support of Jason Schultz packed the courtroom and flowed into the hallway.
Dressed in orange and wearing chains around his wrists and ankles, Sheldon apologized to the families impacted by the crash.
Dan Damman, Sheldon’s lawyer, said guilt and remorse have been the driving force in Sheldon’s life since the crash.
“Here, everyone has lost something,” Damman said. “Everyone is experiencing a sense of loss, but to varying degrees. “…There are no winners in this room. There is only an immeasurable sense of loss, hurt, pain and suffering.”
Before sentencing Sheldon, the Judge said Jason Schultz's death was a needless tragedy. He said he was guided by the pre-sentence report from probation and victims' statements in deciding Sheldon's sentence.
"No matter what sentence I impose I know it will be far too lenient for some and maybe unnecessarily harsh in the minds of others," the Judge said. "There is no sentence that I can impose that will heal the hurt and the pain that you feel.”
Officials have said Sheldon used marijuana prior to driving the morning of Jan. 15, 2016. Sheldon hit Preferred Towing’s Jason Schultz, who was attempting to tow Hilliker's vehicle out of a west ditch.
Sheldon pleased guilty on March 1, 2016. Sheldon’s $250,000 personal recognizance bond was revoked shortly thereafter when lab tests confirmed he’d used marijuana while out on bond. He was taken into custody.
More than 250 tow truck drivers joined Schultz's funeral procession Jan. 20.
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Nature Interpretation Through Music
Using music as a means of interpretation is no new concept. The protest songs of the 60s and 70s provide a clear example of people using music as a hugely successful means of mass interpretation. This music reached a vast audience of change-thirsty youth, mobilizing them against the time's social, political, and environmental issues (Covach & Flory, 2018). The power of music as an interpretive force is undeniable, but how does this apply to our discussion of nature?
Well, if you consider music to be a combination of vocal or instrumental sounds combined in a way that produces beautiful form, harmony, and emotion, then wouldn’t nature be the purest and longest-playing symphony? Music is everywhere in nature. It’s in the rustling leaves, the whistling wind, the chatter of animals, the pattering rain, the billowing thunder, the trickling water, the crashing waves, and the sounds of footsteps.
Additionally, nature is everywhere in music. It’s in the sounds of instruments, the rhythm/ tempo, and the topic of lyrics. Nature inspires music. Take “The Four Seasons” by Antonio Vivaldi, for example. Each concerto in the series represents one of the four seasons. If you listen to these concertos, you will hear representations of flowing creeks, singing birds, barking dogs, buzzing flies, storms, winter fires, and frozen landscapes, to name a few. “The Four Seasons” may be one of classical music's most obvious direct expressions of nature. Still, many others work off a similar premise, such as Claude Debussy’s “Clair de Lune,” which translates to “Moonlight” in English. Such representations of nature are also not limited to classical music. “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong is a great example from late 1960s R&B, and “Summer Breeze” by Seals and Crofts is an example from 1970s folk rock. Lyrically, many songs have nature-related themes and inspirations. There is “Sundown” by Gordon Lightfoot, “Bobcaygeon” by the Tragically Hip, “Where do the Children Play” by Cat Stevens, “California Dreaming” by The Mammas and The Pappas, and the list goes on.
Music doesn’t have to have nature in its theme, lyrics, or instrumentation to inspire thoughts of natural landscapes in its audience. Music triggers a part of our brain that helps us to remember (Baumgartner, 1992). I’m sure you all have specific songs that trigger memories of natural landscapes from your past. Likewise, I can recall many songs that transport me to places in nature. Despite growing up in the age of iPods and Apple Music, I listened to most of my music through CD players. Thus, many of my transportive tunes were, instead, transportive albums. Most notably, every song in the “Cheap Thrills” album by Big Brother and the Holding Company with Janis Joplin swiftly transports me back to the summer of 2016. I would lie in the back of my truck in the middle of the hay field or bomb around on my dirtbikes, all while repeatedly listening to the album.
I compiled a Spotify playlist of some of my favourite nature-related music. Have a listen. Who knows? Maybe you'll find your new favourite tune!
References:
Baumgartner, H. (1992). Remembrance of Things Past: Music, Autobiographical Memory, and Emotion. Advances in Consumer Research. 19. 613-620.
Beck, L., Cable, & T. T., Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and
Natural Heritage for a Better World. Sagamore Venture.
Covach, J., & Flory, A. (2018). What’s that Sound?: An Introduction to Rock and its History. W.W. Norton & Company.
Gray, P. Krause, B. Atema, J., Payne, R., Krumhansl, C. & Baptista, L. (2001). The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music. Science. 291. 52-54.
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vro0m's rewatch - 173/332
2016 Monaco GP
(Buckle up there’s a lot of gifs in this one)
Well now that Spain made me lose my mind it's only fair for the follow-up to be the dullest race on the calendar. Oh wait actually maybe not?
It's wet. They're talking of changeable conditions. Also weirdly, it's Ricciardo on pole. Huh. I can only hope this race surprises me. Interestingly, Max crashed in Q1 so he's starting for the pitlane while Daniel is starting from pole. I'm gonna be interested in that dynamic.
The Mercs have fuel pressure issues if I understand right? Of course we're gonna have a segment on them after what happened in the last race. We see images from Monaco 2014, the controversial quali mistake from Nico. "We're not friends." Lewis leaning on his shoulder and Nico getting away from him. The Belgium 2014 crash. Merc's 2014 title win. Lewis' 2014 title win. China 2015, when Nico thought Lewis backed him into Seb during the race. Monaco 2015, when the team lost Lewis' the race. Merc's 2015 title win. Lewis' 2015 title win. The cap throw. And of course their last crash.
Johnny interviews Lewis on the truck. He claims Lewis has been grumpy in the past few days. Lewis is surprised, or he feigns to be. He asks how he's been grumpy. Johnny says there's been people saying he doesn't look happy. Johnny hypothesises that it might be frustration because he wanted to be on the front row and it didn't work out. "Okay," Lewis says, half amused. Johnny says that's him still being grumpy with him. Which is insane. Lewis interrupts him. He says he's in a great mood, he's in Monaco, where he lives, and he gets to drive. As he waves to the crowd he points to children from the starlight foundation for hospitalised children. He says to Johnny not to listen to all the noise, "that's the problem with people, they just listen to what other people say." Johnny says in 2008 Lewis won from starting 3rd on the grid, where he's starting that day. Lewis says he got lucky that one time but he'll do what he can and get points.
The journalists are talking team orders now. Apparently Lewis hinted that they might have to rely on that if Nico and himself came together again. Brundle says of course if it turns out the Ferraris or the RedBulls become a threat for the title the team is gonna have to make decisions.
On the truck Seb says he thinks they have a good car but we also hear him say it got worse and swearing during quali so. Yeah. Not too sure about that.
Mmh and there's a problem with Max's car. They are hammering something on or off the car. Not good.
I'm gonna skip Brundle's grid walk because it's never as annoying as in Monaco.
The grid : Ricciardo, Nico, Lewis, Seb, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Perez, Kvyat, Alonso and Valtteri.
And it's a safety car start!
It's just that wet. They're all on full wets then of course. Kvyat says his Toro Rosso is stuck on constant speed. He drops down the field even under safety car. He's back in the pits and a lap down. But he goes again. But then he says it still doesn't work. Over radio, Magnussen claims it's time they go racing, the track is ready. Lewis is also calling it. Okay! Safety car in at the end of lap 7. Kvyat is not allowed to unlap himself though which is stupid.
Here we go! Ricciardo gets away and Lewis is close to Nico. Magnussen pits for inters! Crazy! Meanwhile Lewis almost put it in the wall in the hairpin AND A CAR HAS CRASHED?! Wait, is it on the other side of the wall…? I'm confused. It's Palmer. VSC. What happened? He's out and OK btw. The car is already hooked to the crane and lifted up, the two front wheels hanging pathetically under the car like a warm ball sack. Ohhh okay. Weird. So on the restart we see him coming down the hill with the two wheels already broken. He's just sliding down like it's on skis until it gets into the run off area and bumps against the barriers. Yeah he hit other barriers earlier. A lot of the midfield cars are getting on the inters.
On lap 10, they go again, AGAIN. And still Ricciardo is ahead while Lewis is sticking to Nico's back. He's looking to overtake for sure. But well. It's Monaco. Jenson sets the fastest lap on inters! Yellow flags… It's Grosjean and Raikkonen into the barriers with minimal to no damage it seems. Ah nevermind Raikkonen just lost his front wing, it's stuck under his car. He's trying to get back to the pit anyway but at the exit of the tunnel it seems impossible and he retires in a run-off area. On the replay we see Raikkonen crashed by himself, then as he went again Massa ran into his back and as he went off into the barriers, Grosjean found himself stuck behind him. Seb pits for inters. More and more of them on inters. What is Merc doing. OH AND WE DIDN'T SEE IT HAPPEN BUT LEWIS IS AHEAD! He has 13 seconds to make up for to catch Daniel though. Oh ho it seems to have been team orders… I mean he immediately put 4 seconds between him and Nico so it's clearly the right call but it’s icky. Seb got ahead of Massa by cutting the chicane unintentionally so he gives the place back. Shortly after Hulkenberg almost collides with his rear in the hairpin. Lewis sets the fastest lap of the race. Still 13 seconds to Ricciardo but Nico lost 2 more seconds on him.
On lap 20, Lewis is 12.7 seconds behind, then it's Nico, Sainz getting close to him, Perez not far behind, a big gap to Massa, followed by Seb, Hulkenberg, Alonso and Gutierrez still further down. The Merc mechanics are ready with inter tyres. But Lewis doesn't come in, so it'll be Nico. Yep. Out in P5. Massa pits as well. And that's two cars into the barriers! Kvyat and Magnussen, who almost backed away into another car. And Verstappen sets the fastest lap on inters now. Lewis needs to pit. Him and Daniel are the last ones on wets… And Ricciardo pits! And Lewis hasn't pitted?! WHY?! It's stupid af. Now Ricciardo is gaining so fast on him, setting fastest lap after fastest lap, while Ted reports the track is "bone dry". Daniel is less than 0.2 behind him… They think he's trying to go straight to the slicks.
It's lap 30. Lewis, Daniel +0.7, Nico 26 seconds further down, Perez, Seb, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Alonso, Gutierrez, and Max, who started from the pitlane, is in the points. And Ericsson is the first one to get on the slicks. Perez follows. Then Jenson, Magnussen… Lewis is struggling. HE PITS. Ultrasofts! Do they think he can go to the end on these?! It's 46 laps!!! Everyone is pitting. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. NO FUCKING WAY. Ricciardo came in for the slicks but they weren't ready! The tyres weren't out! What a mistake! He's sitting there… It's a 13.6 stop! Unbelievable! Just as he gets in the pit exit, Lewis flies by at full speed! They are wheel to wheel after the chicane but Lewis gets away fast and he keeps the lead! Is he finally, FINALLY, gonna win his second Monaco GP?! Well there's still half a race to go, and Daniel isn't giving up! He's catching on Lewis! He attacks out of the tunnel, but Lewis defends. It's close, damn. I'm gonna be so stressed out. And he's caught in backmarkers… Seb sets the fastest lap. OH AND MAX IS IN THE BARRIERS! Virtual safety car. Meanwhile Nico is in P6. He's been held up during his pitstop to avoid an unsafe release and he lost a place to Seb. They go again and Daniel tries a move before the tunnel but almost loses it. Then he tries in the tunnel. Lewis cut the chicane! They're wheel to wheel! But again, it's Monaco. On his on-board we see him waving his hands furiously. It's true Lewis defended aggressively. Especially given he'd just made a mistake. Radio : "wtf was that?" Daniel asks.
Lap 40. Lewis, Daniel +1.380. Perez, Seb, Alonso, Rosberg, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Gutierrez. The incident between Lewis and Daniel is under investigation. Ricciardo is losing time slightly. Interestingly, the commentators point out, Perez and Seb are on the softs, not the ultrasofts like Lewis, not the supersofts like Ricciardo. It's pretty clear they can go to the end on these when we're unsure about the ultrasofts. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Ricciardo is gaining again. He's under a second away again. But Lewis responds. No further action for their previous scuffle. Lewis sets the fastest lap again. But Daniel responds! But behind them drivers are picking up the pace as well… Specifically Perez in P3 is faster than them both at this point.
It's lap 50. Perez sets the fastest lap. Lewis, Ricciardo +0.8, Perez +8.9, Seb +2.3, then Alonso is 30 seconds down, followed by Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson and Massa. And the two Saubers, that we just heard fighting over the radio about team orders, collided! They go again. VSC. One of them pits. VSC ending. Ricciardo is so close… Nasr's Sauber is back in the pits. Ricciardo attacks out of the tunnel again! But Lewis defends again! A few corners later, Daniel locks up. He loses time a bit. We breathe. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Nasr is out of the race. There's a train behind Alonso btw. Nico is still stuck half a second behind Alonso and must be getting as frustrated as Ricciardo. Ericsson, the second Sauber, also retires. Seb sets the fastest lap. 20 laps to go. Even when it's somewhat interesting this race is too long. Daniel picks up the pace but locks up again.
Lap 60. Lewis, Ricciardo +0.9, Perez +9.1, Seb +2.7, Alonso, Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Massa. Ohhh on a replay we see Nico overtook Alonso but then cut the chicane so he gave the place back. There may or may not be rain right at the end of the race… Seb sets the fastest lap again. Ohhh he made a mistake… He lost 2 seconds to Perez because of a lock up. 10 laps to go. Ted says he asked the pirelli guy if Lewis can go to the end on these tyres and the man answered idk I didn't expect them to make it this far so. Yeah. Reassuring. VSC : something has flown on the track apparently from one of the balconies above. It's over really quickly.
Lap 70. Daniel is 2 seconds behind and Perez and Vettel lost out with the VSC, they've fallen back a bit. Alonso, Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Massa. Of course it hasn't changed. Alonso reports some raindrops on his visor. Lewis is starting to lap the top 10! He's not under pressure from Daniel either. He's really gonna win Monaco again. 5 laps to go. Holding my breath. He's gonna be so happy about this. Seb is just one second away from the podium… That would be nice… Come on baby. 4 laps to go. Seb is 0.7 seconds away. 3 laps to go. Seb lost a bit of time. 2 laps to go. It's starting to rain, Sainz says. It's too late for it to make a difference, surely. Final lap!
It's the end of the race!
LEWIS WINS IN MONACO! And that's his first win in 2016 as well, damn. Somehow Hulkenberg ultimately finished ahead of Nico. He takes his time around the track, Lewis. Crowd pleaser.
He is so happy he's basically crowd surfing his crew. He receives congratulations from Justin Bieber and it's extremely cringe. He sets down his stuff, puts the cap on and then hugs his crew AGAIN. Goes back to chat with Bieber. Shakes Perez’ hand. Daniel is unhappy. Understandably. Face closed, shaking his head. Lewis gets his trophy. Throws it HIGH!
When Daniel gets his trophy Lewis also shakes his hand, tells him a word or two. Anthem time.
They pose for the photo.
Lewis gives the champagne to Bieber to taste then generously drowns the mechanics. Ricciardo is not taking part. Checo is hugging his guys. Lewis crouches on his step instead of coming down to talk to Brundle.
He thanks everyone and says he's at a loss for words, he prayed for a time like this and it came.
The stint length was crazy and it was close. He congratulated Daniel for how well he drove all weekend, he calls him one of the best drivers he raced against. He says he's looking forward to many more battles. He knows he's unhappy because it's always disappointing to start one pole and finish second but he should be proud of how well he drove.
While Ricciardo's interview starts, Perez and Lewis clinks bottles behind his head. The "tink" of the glass is heard loud and clear.
When they get back to Lewis, Brundle reminds him of the gap in the championship : 26 points. "Game on," he says. Lewis chuckles with a hollow voice.
He says he hasn't even thought about that yet. He says he forgot to congratulate Sergio, who did an amazing job to come up from where he was. He says of course they're still in the battle, there's a long long way to go. "Just when you feel it couldn't get any worse it gets better." You can't ever give up.
Apparently Horner refuses to give an interview. Toto is beaming though. He still says he's sorry about the RBR boys mishap because you never want this to happen to anybody. I mean. Sure Toto. He says they had issues with brake temperatures on both cars that caused problems every restart but Nico suffered more from it than Lewis. He also confirms Nico letting Lewis ahead was a team order. Simon says the gap is 24, not 26. He's confident for Montréal, but the others are catching up to them for sure.
Nico says the decision to let Lewis ahead was pretty straight forward. He doesn't make a big deal out of it. It was clear he was off the pace while Lewis still had a chance to win. From the team's point of view it's simple.
Lewis is asked how this win ranks in his career. He chuckles. It feels like the best race ever but he's had a lot of races and can't remember all of them.
He says this one he feels in his heart he earned. It didn't feel like a stroke of luck, he did the most. He chuckles again. He used every skill he had to stay ahead of Daniel, OH RIGHT. IT'S HIS 44TH WIN. IN MONACO. Ohhh symbols, symbols. He says it feels like a long time he hasn't won. About the call to stay out when everybody was putting for inters he says the mixed conditions are generally his favourite, although he wasn't the fastest in these conditions today, Daniel was, because they had more downforce this weekend. He says he decided to stay out. (Earlier Toto said the pit wall had a whole conversation about it and it was a team decision, Lewis being part of the team.) He says he was told to box and he said no because if he did he'd have to do it again 10-15 laps later given how fast the track was drying.
He says when he came out though it was like driving on ice. He's eager to get back to them and have a drink and enjoy.
The journalist says he said earlier in the weekend the ultrasofts weren't soft enough for him but now they're probably good enough? He says he's glad… He breathes out with this look of wonder he has when he's excited.
He says he had a long way to go on these tyres. The crazy thing is you don't know how long these tyres can go but there's a number of things you can do in the car to try to make them last longer. Daniel was picking up the pace and he was trying to speed up and slow down and "just tryna keep them sweet" but you never know when they'll drop off the cliff. It felt like it went on forever. He says it's a short lap here but 47 laps is a lot. Oh my god. He crosses his hands on his heart, raises his shoulders. "I'm grateful to got them…" He shakes his fist slightly, he's a child. "So happy!"
And then it's time for the final interview while Lewis is trying to walk through the paddock. For some reason he pushes Johnny away, "Hey get out of here man!" Johnny laughs.
"Good seeing you smile buddy," he says.
I guess Lewis was a bit grumpy after that pre race interview after all. Lewis says he doesn't know how the race looked but it felt incredible. "one of the hardest races." The rain is so tricky and Monaco is horrible in the rain. Johnny says he was under a lot of pressure fighting Ricciardo, the conditions, he must feel so relieved to finally win. He says unfortunately he doesn't feel relieved at all. He says he went out there and took what he needed to get. He doesn't feel lucky or… "No no no but it's been a long time," Johnny says. Lewis is still talking "... Or 'Thank God' , I don't feel like that. Of course it's been a long time but today – thank you man," he interrupts himself to answer a guy congratulating him on the way. "I just feel incredibly proud of the job we did, of the decision I made to stay out, not crashing, you know, with all the opportunities out there I could've for sure crashed but I just feel very proud." Eventually, prompted by Simon this time, he agrees it's been a long time. He says it's one of the hardest races to win. He's again interrupted by someone congratulating him on the way. "Merci," he says. "One of the hardest races to win," he continues. "I mean why is it so damn hard." They chuckle. "But I love it." – "You like hard," Johnny says. Which uh. 🥴 Anyway. They're doing this interview while walking up narrow metallic stairs, it's awful. He says he'll be celebrating with friends that night. He says they'll definitely party, the music is already going.
He looks at the camera. "Blessings to everyone, thanks so much for the support."
A few minutes later we see Merc taking the team photo. As Ted repeats, Nico really offered Lewis this win in a sense. And that's such an interesting thing to point out in their dynamic.
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