#the hard drive on my work laptop just crashed

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Periodic reminder to back up your data!

#backing up everything on my phone that needs it most (pics and music) and. last time i did so seems to be #August 30th of last year.. I'm gonna be here for a while transferring things #I'm still so glad i got an external hard drive for this <3 idk how many more power outtages my laptop will survive #the battery is completely shot and i got a pop up window that said that hardware might not be available anymore #i mean it works for what i need it to do I'm just. afraid to turn it off bc it's been through some nasty crashes when ive tried that #i just like to make sure i dont lose anything; ive had phones short out on me before and losing everything isnt something #i wanna go through again #might also make me a little more comfortable deleting things on my phone if i know i can always put it back #hoatm rants

[callmewrinkles3]

All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.

A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!

Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.

SUB: Resignation Letter

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Blake,

Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.

Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.

Kind regards,

Emma.

Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.

The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.

He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.

She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.

She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.

“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.

“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.

“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.

“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”

“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”

She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.

She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.

Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.

She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.

The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.

Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.

“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.

“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.

“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.

“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”

“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.

“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”

Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.

“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”

“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.

“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”

“That sounds perfect.”

When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.

“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”

The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.

That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.

“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.

“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”

“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.

“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”

“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.

“I got you something.”

“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.

“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”

“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”

“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”

“Fine.”

She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.

Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.

“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”

“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”

The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.

“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”

“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”

“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.

“Back to the hotel?”

“You read my mind.”

The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.

When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.

“Night, Dan.”

“But I thought…”

“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.

“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”

“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.

The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.

But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 

Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.

Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.

That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.

Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.

She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.

Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.

She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.

As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.

Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.

Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.

This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.

It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 

He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.

A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.

“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.

“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”

“See you there.”

Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.

“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.

“What’s this for?”

“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”

“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”

“Miss you too.”

She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.

Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.

“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”

Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.

You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.

The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.

The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.

Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.

Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.

And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.

She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.

“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.

“Home.”

“Emmy…”

“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.

“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”

“Because I have to go back.”

“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.

“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”

“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”

She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.

“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.

“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”

“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.

“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”

“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.

She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.

“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.

“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”

Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.

“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”

“I love you too, Grace.”

Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.

“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.

“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.

“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.

“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 

“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”

“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”

“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.

She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”

“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”

“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn���t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.

“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s one of the best.”

Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.

She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.

Em, what’s this email about?

What’s going on?

Tell me you didn’t mean to send this

Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?

Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?

We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.

When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.

It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.

There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.

But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.

The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.

“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.

“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”

“Yes?”

Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.

“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”

“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.

“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.

“See you then.”

The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.

It felt so, so wrong.

The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.

Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.

She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.

It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.

Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.

After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.

The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.

Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.

The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.

The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.

Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.

It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.

Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.

Danny,

I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.

Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Emma

Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.

Blakey,

I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.

I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.

Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.

Thank you for everything.

Love,

Ems

PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.

She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.

Mike,

I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.

Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.

Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.

Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.

Love,

Em

When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.

He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.

Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.

She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.

The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.

The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.

Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.

Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.

*

When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.

“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.

“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“

“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”

“Ok. Go shower and head out.”

The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.

All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.

The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.

There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.

It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.

“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”

The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.

The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.

He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.

“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”

He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.

Until he saw the boxes.

Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.

She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.

Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.

It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.

She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.

“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”

His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.

“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”

“Did you read any of what she wrote?”

“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”

“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.

“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.

“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”

“She told me to leave!”

“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”

He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.

He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.

She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.

“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”

“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”

“What happened?”

“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”

“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”

“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”

“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.

“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”

“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.

Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 

But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.

“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 

“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”

“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”

“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“

“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”

Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.

#call it what you want fic #ciwyw writing #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo oneshot #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula one imagine #daniel ricciardo x ofc #daniel ricciardo x reader

[gretahayes]

literally nobody fucking asked but here's my idea for a core four repair shop au.

they're young adults, like 21, and are out to forge their own paths as heroes and stuff. they're back together as a team—the four of them, again and always—and go to a quiet town with minimal, if any, other hero activity. tim's a city boy, but he makes the commute to the nearest city to get resources and stuff, and they've got a zeta back to gotham since everyone else can fly/has superspeed to get back to their cities.

they buy a nice house tucked away, get it soundproofed, and decide to renovate it themselves despite tim quite literally begging them to let him pay for someone else to do it.

while making a mess of the renovation, they find a quaint little shop for sale and are enamored by it, so they (read; Tim) buy it, and set up a shop, because hey, why not, and they put their plentiful skills together and make a repair shop.

(it's got no name, because they couldn't think of one, but they call it the fixing shop. locals call it that too, and when anyone needs something fixed, they take it to the fixing shop)

what does it repair? well, everything.

that's not a joke. if you broke anything, there's at least one of them that can fix it. from cars to metalwork to tech to dolls, if it's fixable, they can fix it.

the shop's a mismatch of several different workstations, an interior designer's worst nightmare, but it's cosy. homey.

there's general prices in their heads but like none of them are really doing this for the money? so it varies based on circumstances and how hard the job is.

if a kid comes in crying with a broken toy, cassie fixes it and accepts whatever the kid can pay for payment—if nothing, she does it for free. some snobby asshole comes in wanting to fix the expensive car they crashed while drunk driving and kon fixes it, sure, but the bill comes up to close to a million. and kon's sort of the only one that can fix it this well? so the person just pays and leaves, fuming. a distressed college kid comes in with a cracked to hell laptop but they can't afford another one and tim makes it good as new—the several, several parts he replaced make sure of that, like seriously it's barely the same laptop anymore—for ten bucks. he refuses to be paid any more. a nervous teenager comes in with a ripped dress, bart stitches it expertly well—and expertly fast—and charges fifty cents.

locals wonder about their scars, wonder about where their families are, wonder about the visitors they get, wonder how they have so many skills, but the core four just smile and say "trade secret"

if you come at the right time, kon's pulling a fresh batch of pastries or cakes or various other sweets from the oven and he hands them out. they're ma's recipe, made with love and all, so of course they're delicious.

cassie's finishing university locally, her mom wanted her to, bart and kon do it online, so their working hours are a bit odd. but they did accelerated classes and busted their asses to graduate a year early, so they're really proud of themselves.

tim finds ways to occupy himself.

it may or may not be a hotspot for supernatural activity, but they made friends with the creatures so it's fine

when cissie needs a break she comes to stay with them and everyone's happy. sometimes anita carves out time to spend in their peaceful little safe haven, and greta comes and goes when she has the time.

it's almost sickeningly domestic. sometimes after a fight they stumble home bleeding and sweaty and hurt, but happy.

#my rambles #yj #core four repair shop au #cour four #cassie sandsmark #tim drake #kon el #bart allen

[effervescentdragon]

Any charles pairing & plane rides ✈️

They travel feom Germany to Hungary on the Ferrari jet together.

Sebastian didn't want to do it. He wanted to get into his own car and drive to Hungary and calm down. Truthfully, it didn't even have to be his own car, and it couldn't be something Italian because he would've crashed it, and it couldn't be something German because he would've driven it into a tree in Schwartzwald, and it couldn't be British because he didn't want to think about Brits right now so all that was left as an option was French, and that made him not push as hard against the idea of flying in a fucking Ferrari jet.

He just didn't know Leclerc would be there too.

Kimi was already asleep after getting into a fight with someone over the phone. Maurizio was already gone, as was the mkst of the team. Ericsson had something or other to take care of, so he wasn't with them. The rest of the team was either sleeping or working, heads bowed over their laptops and data.

Sebastian was tired, and annoyed, and many other things he didn't dare even think unless he wanted to be fucking hospitalised, and now he had Charles Leclerc sitting across from him and very pointedly avoiding looking at Sebastian and pretending he didn't.

He's so beautiful, Sebastian thought out of nowhere, because it was the truth and he was bone-deep exhausted and Charles' eyelashes touched his cheeks when he lowered them in slow blinks. He's as beautiful as he is talented, and I am so fucked. It's all so fucked, and I'm fucked, and the Championship is about to be fucked, and Ferrari is fucked, and I would let myself be fucked by this boy, if only he knew how to ask.

Charles took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Seb, uh," Charles finally spoke, in a soft tone that emphasised his sleepy French - Monegasque - accent, "I just wnmanted to say - congratulations on breaking the track record."

Sebastian blinked. What the fuck is wrong with you, kid, he almost blurted out. I crashed out of the race that may well cost me the Championship by my own stupid fault, you finished dead last, you're going to take Kimi's place in Ferrari and I know I will have to fight you and the whole fuckery of Ferrari both, alongside godforsaken Mercedes and whatever "LH and VB" throw at me, and you're congratulating me on a stupid track record?

Charles swallowed when Seb said nothing, and very obviously made himself continue. "I watched your lap, and - and they gave me some of the data for the sim, and - it was wonderful. It was so clean, and so instinctive, when you pushed on the straight, it was - like art." He swallowed. Sebastian couldn't look away from the way his throat bobbed. He could imagine touching it with his palm as he filled it with his -

"So I just wanted to say that. You're a - a great driver, and I think I can learn a lot from you. So," he shrugged, and he looked so young and so naive and so uncomfortable and like it was costing him everything to say these things because his eyes couldn't conceal that they were the truth.

When was the last time I spoke the truth and wasn't punished for it, Sebastian thought, but didn't need to think about the answer. His favourite colour always was blue.

When will they kill the sincerity in you, kid, he thought, and realised, uncomfortably, that he didn't really want to find out.

The silence held for a moment more. "Thank you," Sebastian finally made himself say. "It was - it was special. To do something like that home - or as close to home as possible."

Charles nodded, and the gentle, understanding smile on his face made Sebastian want to bite his lip until it bled, because Charles didn't - couldn't understand.

"I hope I do the same in Monaco one day," he said, like he was telling a secret. Everybody knows, Sebastian almost said. Everybody can see it in your eyes, how desperate you are to win there. To have her love you like you love her. Idiot boy.

He remembered his own words in Monaco. If anyone should be praised, it's Charles. I don't know who should be praised, if not Charles.

"You did good," Sebastian said, because he remembered Charles' parted lips and flushed cheeks in that press conference too. "With what you had, what you were given, you did good." He paused, not sure if he should. If he should dare.

Fuck it, he though, and leaned in and put his hand over Charles'. It's all going to hell anyway. I may as well enjoy at least this one ride.

"You'll do even better next year."

Charles' genuine smile made his eyes shine and deepen in colour. Sebastian wasn't sure if they were the green of the forest, or the brown of the mud, or the gold of the trophies he was once used to. He didn't think it really mattered.

He knew he was going to get close enough to find out some day, because Charles' eyes held many, many emotions, but the one Sebastian recognized the easiest, used to seeing it in the mirror in the past, was hope.

Monza is for the dreamers, he thought nonsensically. Let's see what happens after Hungary, and Spa. Let's see what you're made of, Charles Leclerc.

"I hate the jet," he said, and Charles chuckled. "We have to flu everywhere and I hate it." He oretended to get an idea. "You know what we should do? We should take a drive, from - from Spa to Monza. Blow them all away and just drive."

Charles laughed, cheeks rosy and ripe to be bitten. Seb grinned.

"I think I'd like that," Charles said, and Seb didn't say I know you do. "I think that would be fun, and funny."

Sebastian squeezed Charles' hand. "Yes. It will." He let his smile soften. "Maybe we'll make it happen."

"Monza is for the dreamers," Charles said nonchalantly. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his breathing steady. "So anything can happen."

An engineer coughed behind them as she approached with a tablet filled with data, her face apologetic as she made a beeline for Charles. "Charles, I'm sorry, but if you could-"

Sebastian stopped listening. He'll get the data anyway. What he couldn't get rid of was the feelimg that somewhere, somehow, he'd made a terrible, detrimental miscalculation in regards to Charles.

He tried not to worry. He had all the time in the world to figure it out, though. So long as he didn't get too distracted by that dimple in Charles' cheek, he'd be fine.

He's Sebastian Vettel, a four-time World Champion and a Ferrari driver. He's always fine.

#i am medicated and tired and in a mood #have this #sebchal #f1 rpf #post hockenheim 2018 #effervescentdragonwrites #my writing #angst #maybe #idk #seb is an asshole. but we love him

[northern-passage]

i got my laptop back from repairs today and decided to do a big "what have i been up to" post :-)

things have been kinda all over the place with me lately since march/april. i took a break from working on tnp & wrote one day hike (about 13k words if i remember correctly)

then i was working on faith, my neotwiny jam submission, which wasn't a lot but took a lot of reworking on my part with the word count limit and it was a fun challenge

i also at the same time was working on the first draft of a private project (a novel, i guess.... 😱) which i finished earlier this month and came in at around 100k~ and is now marinating in my files until i find the strength to start editing and redrafting.

this leads me to blood choke which is what i have been working on since, and takes place in the same world as my novel (and is similar in some ways and different in others) which i'm hoping to release the first 2 chapters of soon.

i did some little mini "games" also that i'm not sure will ever see the light of day hahahaha but i have another short kinetic story potentially for another jam that i think is sitting at around 2.5k right now.... i feel a bit self-conscious about it so not sure if i'll publish but it's a sort of companion piece to faith so! we'll see. the other one is almost 5k but it's not at all where i want it to be coding/UI wise so im not sure what im doing with that one, either....

anyways i know it's been quiet here, i've just been working on other projects, and also with all of the computer problems i was having (computer crashes/bluescreening and files getting corrupted) i wasn't working on tnp as much out of fear of potentially losing stuff, especially since my tnp files are Massive compared to my other work. however that has now (hopefully) been fixed with a new hard drive so fingies crossed 🤞

hope you all are having a nice pride month and thanks for sticking around o7

#basically i have been going Insane and writing A Lot. but just not for tnp lmfao #i do think about her every day tho dont worry #blood choke is aiming to be about 4/5 chapters and is much shorter & contained than tnp #my original goal was to actually save it all to release on halloween but i dont think i have the patience for that hahaha #also i do like having the option for potential feedback while i work #my goal is still to hopefully finish it by halloween cus i think that would be fun. and i think/hope that's a good enough cushion 4 myself #wow this made me realize its actually only been like 2 months lmfao. what the hell is wrong with me #personal

[townofcrosshollow]

How to Keep Your Twine Project Safe

It is a tale as old as time. The app crashes, your cache is cleared, your laptop breaks, and hours or days or weeks of work is lost. It's a terrible experience, and you never think about what to do in that situation until it happens to you- and by that time, it's already too late. So here's your prompt to get ahead of things and keep your project protected before something goes wrong.

So here, I'll be going over some layers of security you can use...

1. NEVER use the web app

I know this one's gonna be controversial. I know, a lot of people use the web app! It exists for a reason! But if you do, you're leaving your work very vulnerable.

When you use a local installation of Twine, your files are being saved to local storage. That means that everything is saved on your hardware, and with the exception of a freak event, it's not going anywhere. Don't get me wrong, those freak events aren't rare enough to dismiss (we'll talk about that later), but it's not quite as bad as the web app.

Instead of saving your files locally, the web app saves your progress to your browser's cache- the same thing that saves your cookies and keeps you logged in on websites. If your cache is cleared for any reason, your games will be gone.

2. Write your documents in a separate program

Chances are, if you're using Twine, there's a lot of stuff you can do outside of Twine before moving it into the program itself. A common practice is to write prose in a separate program, and then move it all into Twine when you're finished and write the code in Twine. This is a great way to back up your work, because if Twine has an error, you'll still have all the source files to reconstruct what you had before.

I'd recommend trying to use a stable program to write in. That means something that saves locally and doesn't frequently crash. In other words, do not use Google Docs. Instead of Docs, try one of these:

Microsoft Word (expensive, subscription, but stable)

LibreOffice (free, stable)

Scrivener (one time purchase, stable)

3. Back EVERYTHING up

I can not stress this enough. Back up your damn work. Back it up in multiple places if possible.

"Oh, but I'm using Google Docs, it's already backed up!" NO. No it is not. To keep your work truly safe, you need multiple copies hosted on multiple pieces of hardware. If one of those is a Google server, great! But if it's just one, that means that one single failure in that hardware (or the software associated) will mean everything is lost.

You can back up your files from the Twine program by going under the Build tab and selecting Publish to File or Export as Twee. Saving that to your device is already better than having it saved by the Twine app, but you'll be even safer if you back that file up to an external hard drive (or just a cheap USB drive) and a cloud hosting service like Dropbox or Google Drive. To make it extra safe and minimize lost progress, make sure you replace these files regularly.

That seems like a lot of work though, right? Yeah. So here's my final piece of advice...

4. Use Git

Git is how I've been backing up my latest project, Signal Hill. It's intimidating at first, but there are simple and easy ways to use platforms like Github to keep your work safe and fix big errors. To teach you how, I've created a whole separate tutorial, which you can find here.

#twine tutorial #well... not a tutorial so much s just a reminder lol #but hopefully somebody will see this and back up their work before the twine web app crashes on them lol

[ohkate]

personal rant

I have a wonderful old computer. It's over 20 years old and has never given me a single problem. But it's become obsolete. So I finally invested and got myself a new laptop. It cost 3k and has the highest, best, latest everything. Huge hard drive, memory for miles.

It crashed on me 3 weeks after I bought it. It needed a whole new hard drive.

I have been working on a huge Gallavich fic, almost 200 pages written and about 3 quarters done. I usually save a copy to my email just in case anything happens. A huge chunk of the fic I wrote last was on the laptop -75% of it- and I went to open the file I saved and the file was corrupted. I was so stupid not to check it. I'm an obsessive saver. I'm always so careful.

I just want to abandon this whole fic now because I'm having a tantrum and I have to try and energize myself into writing it all again, remember the good stuff and wondering if it's even worth it. Trying to see it as an opportunity but... damn i feel gutted.

Just got the computer back so at least I can make some gifsets again!

#personal post #ugh #i hate computers #sometimes i just want to become the unabomber #complaining about technology #living in a cabin in the woods #but also...i'm addicted to my computer #and i couldn't live without it #i love you so much computer #gallavich

[weebsinstash]

Same abo person here

Dude you didnt have to come at me like that with that Izuku shit. I've already been feeling more down bad for him than I ever have because I just finished season 6 and vigilante Izuku in the costume just hit me different.

Ok but like secretary or assistant Izuku who slips some shit in your coffee or beverage of choice, maybe even lunch while already having taken something himself. Planning it just so your both in a small space when it happens, my thought is if your big(in terms of a company role or whatever) enough maybe a limo or maybe he might be personally driving you somewhere for work. Just for it to kick in and well we dont want to risk crashing right? Then Izuku insists that when the other one of you starts to show signs they must've gotten triggered by the other.

And if the two of you somehow end up not fucking the next time he sees you at work he is apologizing profusely. Apologizing for not keeping track of his heats or your ruts, apologizing for his begging and pleading because it must've be so hard for you to hold back, and how 'unprofessional' it was that he acted that way with a co-worker let alone a superior.

Worst part is this just pushes him to want you more. Afterall, your such a kind and strong willed alpha to be able to keep yourself off him, not wanting to 'force' yourself on him. Not having listened to any begging because he 'wasn't in the right state of mind'.

Thing was, he absolutely was at least in the beginning. He basically immediately started begging, crying, and maybe even screaming as soon as he felt the mildest twinges of his heat. Not like you'd know though, with the way he was acting he sounded like he was dying.

Bruh deadass I have absolutely awful at keeping with anime, I think a big factor is that my laptop I bought several years ago has severely degraded in performance quality so like I basically watch anime anymore unless it's on YouTube or like I can see if my TV streaming whatever has anime on it but. My dudes I've literally been meaning to catch up with MHA since season 4 which is funny bc I still have a draft w him I wanna finish. I've mentioned it before but, it's a quirkless AU where he's your wealthy renowned psychiatrist while you're involuntarily admitted into a hospital and it devolves into him extending your stay there on purpose just so he can spend time with you and eventually when he finds out another doctor discharged you while he was away for a conference he just decides to straight up kidnap you for further "therapy" that eventually further devolves into "I see you have problems being comfortable with men therefore I'm gonna fuck you as exposure therapy :) I am Totally Not An Obsessed Creep"

Izuku really is one of those yandere that, whether consciously/intentionally or not, fully takes advantage of the fact you think he's so sweet and unassuming. If he does something that wrongs you or upsets he comes back and apologizes so sweetly and tries to make it up to you and like, it IS genuine but he is also just wanting you to be completely on his side so, he be doing a little bit of lying sometimes

Izuku: oh my goodness I am so sorry about us "somehow" getting locked in that room I had a key for (I totally didn't sabotage the key so it would break and we would be locked in). I just couldn't control myself, I barely even remember what happened, I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, please don't hate me 🥺

Izuku when you two were trapped in a car or elevator or broom closet or some shit just the day before, in heat but also lucid enough to know exactly what he's doing: *sits DIRECTLY in your lap so his scent floods your noses* oh my gosh I just think you would look so beautiful with a little baby belly 🥺🥺🥺 PLEASE let me see you with my baby *keeps wiggling his hips on purpose to try and stimulate you, keeps touching you with his hands trying to peel your clothes off* I promise I'll take care of all of you, PLEASE have my pups, I am IN PAIN right now 😩😩😩 *continues to whimper and whine and shit trying to make you pity him because he knows you have a good heart*

Just full on drugs you so you go into a rut, and then if you ever "slip up" and fuck him, well, he isn't going to let you GET RID OF any potential pups that might come out of it. NOW the tactic is to emotionally manipulate you "oh no, our pups are innocent, PLEASE don't KILL THEM, it ISNT RIGHT, they DESERVE TO LIVE, I WANT MY BABIES, I already TOLD MY MOM SHE HAS GRANDCHILDREN"

Izuku is one of those "and then when she gets pregnant we can move into a nice big house and it might be a little rocky at first but she'll definitely love me if I keep trying and show her my heart" kind of yandere but like, he definitely has the capacity to snap from stress. You're working in an office with him or wherever and for some reason a lot of your male and or Alpha coworkers keep getting mysteriously injured? Did you hear how Shouto somehow slipped down the stairs and broke his leg from a mysterious grease spot right by the stairs? Or how Bakugou got horrrriiible food poisoning after that cookout event held last week that Izuku DEFINITELY didn't bring poison to? God, did you hear about Yoarashi? His brakes failed and he RAN HIS CAR OFF A BRIDGE AND ALMOST DIED

And here's Izuku "oh gosh, there's been so much bad news around the workplace recently, so I brought you this little treat to help ease the stress ^^" and there's 'definitely' not any drugs in it cause he finally bought his dream home to steal you away to, 'promise'

#yandere stuff #sinprompts

[samblackblog]

here are two requests! I'm ok with whatever you choose of course!

You got into an accident and Carlisle finds you. You wake up to Carlisle working over you and he takes you back to the house. He gives you the option to be changed but you are super nervous. He is super sweet and helps you though it

Second option! you are a friend of the Cullen's and went to their house to wait for Alice. You are just chilling when you start to feel an anxiety attack coming. Jasper and Carlisle help you out

⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ TWILIGHT ⎔

The Accident [Carlisle x reader]

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Mentions of death, injury detail. Big talk of vampirism ;) non-romantic relationship between reader and Carlisle A/N: Thank you @lillybearblog for the request and sorry for how long it took to respond, I hope this will make up for it :) I chose number 1, but changed the order of events a little.

UPDATE: tumblr seems to be throwing a mare currently. When I uploaded this originally on my laptop everything was fine, but on the phone/tablet the writing was I black and therefore couldn’t be read. Please comment if you can actually see/read this, I’d greatly appreciate it x

The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, pounding against the windscreen of your car. The wiper blades whoosh frantically as they try to clear the view as you drive back from Port Angeles to Forks. The last sign you’d been able to read properly before the deluge started indicated that the journey was only half done and since the weather changed, your speed had reduced to almost a crawl. The journey would be long and tedious now but you weren’t used to the roads, only having passed your test a few weeks back, so proceeding with caution seems sensible, especially since the visibility is only a metre or two max.

However nothing could have prepared you, not the slow speed or the way you instantly jam your foot on the break. You feel the car dip to the right as you slip off the road on a corner; the wheels sliding over mud, unable to get traction. Instinctively you depress the clutch and break simultaneously but it’s far too late. The sudden loss of power and jarring action of the break causes the car to roll as momentum takes it onward. It clangs its way down the hillside, glass shattering; the shards slashing at your face and arms. You bounce in your seat, held in place by the belt which squeezes at your insides. Darkness seizes your body after your head crashes violently against the headrest. Something warm trickles down your neck and fear creeps in. 

Unsure as to how long you black out for, you come round to the sound of metal being wrenched apart, only just audible over the high pitched ringing in your ears. You want to open your eyes and look to the noise but find yourself unable to. Something calls to you from the peaceful darkness that threatens to never let you go. It promises safety and warmth, eternal and everlasting, if you only let go. Curiosity picks at you as strange sounds evade your peace. Straining you make out voices, maybe even a touch but it’s hard to tell as your body goes numb. The voices drift in and out of range, every word sounding less important to you as you give in to the darkness. That is until you hear the one phrase that drives panic into your chest. 

“Quick, she’s dying.” There's urgency in the voice and yet it still sounds calm. This isn’t the first time the owner has looked death in the face and nor would it be the last. Instantly your eyes shoot open, the vision cloudy and indistinctive. They flitter from patches of light and dark as they try to gain focus, finding it unnerving as blurry shapes move, reaching out towards you at incomprehensible speed. That’s when it registers, something prods your throat, earning a strained gurgle from you as you try to speak. 

“Her pulse is weakening” the voice grows louder as the ringing subsides. 

Help. Please help me. You want to shout, but can’t find your voice. Your eyes shut as the darkness claims you once again. 

The next time you regain consciousness, the world feels as though it’s spinning as you stare up through the tree canopy, cold grey light flooding your irises, making them water. Someone enters your field of vision, blocking the light from view, their face pallid but expression filled with sympathy and kindness. Again pressure fills your neck as they press cold fingers into your pulse point, a shocked gurgle escaping your mouth. You’re aware of a bubbling hiss as wetness pools against your chest. 

The man above you moves his lips and you notice his appearance; from his blonde hair to his strange golden eyes. Coldness engulfs your body as you struggle to focus on anything other than how ethereal he is. For a while, you don’t realise he’s as the world rushes in all at once. Once adjusted, you notice his lips move again and his eyes staring into yours, intent on gaining your attention. 

“I’m a doctor, can you understand me?” The question cuts through the air, crisp and clear. There’s no mistaking what he’s said. A doctor? Elation fills your heart. Your memories are hazy but having a doctor could only be good, right?

“You’ve been in a nasty accident, the windscreen shards have pierced your chest, you don’t have long.” Again the voice deals a heavy blow. However this time the urgency is gone, replaced by a pitiful intonation. The statement is quick and to the point, yet still your brain hesitates in processing the information. 

“Do you understand?” He questions, watching as his heavy words sink in, sparking fear in your darkening eyes as the gravity of the situation hits home. Your hand reaches up to his, grabbing it in a death grip as you refuse to let go of life. Desperately you try to plead for your life, nothing but a gurgle comes as you choke on something hot and thick in the back of your throat. 

Oh god. 

“Puh…” you manage, “puh…” 

Please, for god's sake. Please help me. Tears brim from your eyes as you silently beg him. Surely there’s something he can do as a doctor, or at least help and end the suffering. With that thought your eyes change; defeat accepted. 

“She wants you to help her” another voice sounds from behind you, calm and peaceful. How could anyone be calm right now? 

Because they’re not the one dying.

“Carlisle,” that same voice repeats, “She wants you to end her suffering.” It comes as a warning, in case the blonde by your side was thinking the same as you. 

“I can’t. As a doctor I took an oath.” His eyes flash from you to the other “Edward-” he’s abruptly cut off mid sentence. Would it have been a plea for the other man - Edward- to help, or was there more to it?

“Then let me…” the voice trails off as your breathing quickens at the thought of death coming quicker. The doctor -Carlisle- looks down at you, renewed hope sparkling in his eyes, before he cranes his head to your ear. 

“If there was a way to end the suffering and still live, would you accept? Even if it meant having to lead a different life, shrouded in secrecy, away from family and friends, perhaps alone…isolated even” He leans back, watching as thoughts flicker across your expression. You’d accepted the hand that had been dealt. You’d begged for death as you realised there was no option to be saved. Confused and not fully understanding you nod your head, greedily wanting the life that had been taken from you. 

“Carlisle, you can’t, she doesn’t fully understand what she’s agreeing too” This time the warning is stronger, anger laces the words. The kind of anger one holds onto, that forms a grudge from past experience. 

“She’s given her consent, she’ll learn and understand in time Son” The doctor lowers his head once more. You wait patiently for what seems a long time, waiting to hear words spoken softly like the last, but they never come. You feel the cold skin of his face press against the crook of your neck and hear him inhale sharply. Pain briefly erupts over your neck, like nothing you have ever felt before but is one again in seconds. You notice something dark covering his once pale lips as he withdraws from you. You don’t have time to register what it is before pain returns, running the length of your body, your neck burning the most. 

“Help me get her back Edward” are the last words you remember of your old life.

Your eyes open, anew and restored to the world. Your senses are flooded with vibrant colours, smells and sounds as you take in your new surroundings. Gone is the dark dreariness of the crash site, replaced by a bright cheery start to your next life. 

#the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight saga #twilight #carlisle twilight #carlisle imagine #edward cullen #the cullens #twilight movies #forks aesthetic #forks washington #vampires #requests #writing requests #twilight fanfiction #samblackwrites #Sam Black Writes #peter facinelli

[captainsjack]

📓 describe a fic any fic. mayhaps something mi??

hngngg ok ok this is so hard to just pick one, but the one i'm currently most thinking about (and have written a total of 0%) is my fake death au!

so basically, it takes place around the same time as fallout, sort of in place of it. and benji and ethan have been dating for a while (idk how long maybe a year or two). it's all ethan pov btw. and one day benji goes to the grocery store and ethan's at home cooking dinner and he's waiting for benji to come back. but then he gets a call from the hospital saying benji's been in a crash and he needs to come down there. except when ethan gets there they tell him benji was pronounced dead on the scene and there wasn't anything they could do.

so like ethan goes back home to this cold, half-cooked dinner and is completely numb. he isolates himself and lays in bed and just. barely exists for a few days before luther & brandt come over looking for him and benji bc they haven't been at work for a while. and they find ethan in bed, barely moving, and eventually he tells them that benji died. ("where's benji?" "the crematorium. i'm supposed to pick him up on tuesday.")

(i forgot to mention that after these first few days, ethan takes a ring from benji's laptop case and puts it on. benji was going to propose to him. he hadn't yet, and he didn't know ethan knew he was going to, but ethan had figured it out weeks ago and was forcing himself to wait for benji to actually propose and not just say yes the moment he figured it out. only now, benji will never get the chance. and so ethan puts on the ring in an attempt to tell benji yes, yes of course he wants to marry him, it's the only thing he's ever wanted, even though benji isn't there to hear him say yes).

then basically like yeah. it's just about ethan going through the stages of grief (i was thinking maybe a chapter per stage??). luther, brandt, & ilsa plan the funeral and take care of ethan because he's not himself. ethan refuses to write the eulogy and luther has to beg him to because this is benji, and it shouldn't come from anyone else. eventually ethan agrees, but he isn't actually able to write anything other than 'benji' at the top of the paper and nothing else. there's the funeral. ethan speaks last. he gets up to the podium and stares at the almost blank sheet of paper. he looks out at the crowd for a few moments, and then just walks away. he leaves. drives for days, weeks, out to california. stops in random safe houses and lives there sometimes. he ditches his phone and all communication. goes through the anger and bargaining stages until he gets to california. gets an apartment there. sends all his stuff over from dc but can't unpack any of it because it's all benji's too. so he lives in this empty apartment full of boxes and can't even sleep in the bed because it's the bed he shared with benji. he slips into this deep deep depression, and it's not until like 6 months later that he actually speaks to another human being because luther shows up at his door one night. ("i've already lost one friend. i didn't think i was going to lose two.")

and so luther stays. for months. ethan's not receptive at first, but luther takes care of him and gets him into therapy, and, slowly, ethan gets better. he feels sort of alive again. luther eventually moves out and into his own apartment a few blocks away from ethan. on the one year anniversary of benji's death, ethan visits his grave for the first time. (he and luther fly back to dc for a visit. ethan sees ilsa and brandt for the first time in a year too).

then ethan finally reaches acceptance and has to learn how to live his life without benji. about two years in, ethan goes back to the imf, but stays located in california. he still can't go back to dc for more than a few days because each place there holds too many memories of benji. luther retired when benji died, and he still lives in california with ethan. ilsa and brandt visit them frequently. ethan visits benji each anniversary of his passing. he still wears the ring.

then it's almost four years since benji died. ethan's called on a mission. they're tracking down the last group of the apostles. when ethan infiltrates their base, he comes face to face with none other than benji. (i have this really cool scene in my head where the apostles attack ethan and hold him captive for a hot sec and tell benji to kill him and get rid of him. and ethan thinks he's gonna do it but then six shots fire and all the apostles drop dead and it's just him and benji left standing there. benji had saved him and ethan doesn't know why. then ethan comes at him and attacks him and yells at him to take of the mask ("take it off." "take what off?" "your mask. take it off right now. and if you ever use that face again, i swear i will kill you."). and benji has to convince ethan that it's really him, he's here, alive, and not someone else wearing benji as a mask. ethan only believes him when he slices benji's cheek with a knife and he bleeds, pure and true, with no layer of mask against his skin.)

then ethan's so overwhelmed that benji's here and alive and there's still a mission to focus on and he doesn't even know how to process this. benji tells him they need to go, because there's more of them downstairs, and so ethan and benji take care of the rest of the apostles and then the mission's over and benji comes back with ethan and his team.

and this is already so long djfkjjd i didn't mean to go into so much detail, but basically then ethan has to reach acceptance all over again, has to accept the fact that the past four years of his life weren't even real and he had to go through all of that for nothing. (benji tells him it wasn't for nothing, because it kept ethan alive. the apostles had kidnapped him and told him that if he didn't come work with them, that ethan would die, and benji tried to think of any way to get out of it but couldn't. so he had followed their instructions and faked his death and become a part of their group. ethan was safe and that's all that had mattered) (“leaving you was the hardest thing i have ever had to do. but i would do it again in a heartbeat, knowing it saved your life.” “it didn’t.”)

so then benji moves to california with ethan and they relearn how to be a part of each other's lives and work though everything that went down the past four years, and it takes a lot of work, but eventually, they're happy and together (and finally get married) (and also they retire).

-

ask me about my wips!

#jsdkfdfjskjbk im obsessed with this anon #u don't know how hard it was to resist writing some of the scenes flat out here in this ask #thank u for letting me talk about it!!! #bc i love this one so much and have like 90% of it written word for word in my head #but am putting off writing it until i feel confident i can pull it off #bc it is. deep. to say the least. and i want to be able to do it justice u know? #anyways yeah i hope u think it sounds cool! #mission impossible #benthan #my writing #sort of #anon #answered

[okay-computer]

Do you have any okay ways to back up a computer (external hard drive or similar)? Or any tips on how to find one that's pretty good for its price? I've been looking at reviews and all I've been able to figure out for sure is that "rugged" means "more likely to survive the cross-country move I'm planning", so that's a preference. I don't need to back up a ton of video games or other specialized programs, I just want somewhere to back up my files that won't be affected if my laptop gets crushed by a falling piano.

I prefer to do manual backups of my computer on a semi-regular schedule. I'm not very familiar with the home-user backup programs, except that Carbonite and Acronis are known to be fairly reliable.

What I'd recommend to most people is to get an external backup drive, do an image backup of your computer (an image is a snapshot of your computer, if your computer crashes you can restore your whole operating system and programs from an image) and use your computer's built-in backup system (Apple has Time Machine, Windows has a backup utility).

Western Digital My Passport drives are what we sell at work and what I use personally, they're relatively inexpensive and generally quite sturdy - if you're worried about damage you can get a ruggedized case for them, but they don't need any more specialized care than a computer would while you're moving it, just don't drop them.

An image backup is the same size as all of the information on your computer, so you need to make sure that your backup drive has more storage than your computer. I generally do two image backups a year and only keep the two most recent, which means that I've got about 500GB space dedicated to images on my backup drive.

Backing up *files* is different than backing up an image, and a full file backup will take up space but will take up less space than an image, but you need to make sure that you aren't duplicating files (so only backup updated files) otherwise your drive will fill up really fast.

If you're really uncomfortable with this, Carbonite or Acronis should be able to walk you through the process, and will have a tech support line you can call if you get a subscription.

One of the MOST IMPORTANT things to remember about backups is that you need to disconnect your backup drive from your computer. If your computer gets hit with ransomware and encrypted while your backup drive is connected, your backup is also encrypted now and you have lost everything on that drive. DO NOT keep your backup drive connected to your computer unless you are in the middle of an active backup.

#asks answered

[bubblegumflavor]

🍓🎲🍄🔪🏜️🦋🪲

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I was looking for a certain rare pair fanfiction a gazillion years ago and couldn't find one so I wrote one. I was in Japan and had a lot of sleepless nights due to jetlag and no TV. That's when it started! :'D

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? 

If I'm in a flow nothing stops me. Lack of interaction with my stories can lead to demotivation and me temporarily pausing but if I still burn for the story, I'll recover sooner or later. =D

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

A favorite headcanon is that Dally has freckles, only a few, you can't see them right away, only if you get close and barely anyone ever gets that close to Dallas Winston and Johnny is crazy in love with Dally's freckles after he discovered them for the first time and tries to hide it because no one is allowed to even mention them. It's driving him insane.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I know I researched something recently where I thought 'should I really google this?' but I forgot what it was, probably had to do with a crime scene I wrote or drugs and their effects. My most intense research was all kinds of mountain areas and places for a story that takes place in Korea that I never published because my laptop crashed and took it all. I tried to rewrite it but never got far and I dropped it eventually but I learned a lot about areas in Korea no one probably ever heard of. XD

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

OH THERE'S THE OTHER CACTUS!! I just answered that one for a previous ask =)

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

That I wish more people in my fandom would share my interests, actually.. :'3

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

to see who was talking to him. It was the producer, the only face that mattered all day. Daniel remembered too well how he tried to read what was going on in his mind, even from a distance. Now, much closer, he still found it hard to read. With a

#that was a lot!!! thank you so much!! =D <3 #asks

[roaringup]

It’s been hard to update or to keep on top of external events of any kind; a lot is going on.

Robin has pacemaker surgery on the first and I’ll be off work during the month of March so I can help. This follows a heart monitor revealing third-degree heart block; when the result came in he was advised to go to the ED, which I think I mentioned briefly here, and going there appears to have caused a significant fatigue crash/other stuff worsening. Thus after that visit I have been extra busy doing more than my usual chores and cooking and so on.

🐦‍⬛ has been helping a lot, bringing food and driving. I have the new chest freezer in the basement now stocked with extra stuff.

🦑 was ill and in the hospital as well for a little while, but they are recovering at home now. They have a mysterious lung issue to follow up on.

I am trying to think of other things to record. I made a slight variant of the Chinese braised lamb recipe I’ve had saved for some time and it was delicious with crispy fried tofu and bok choy. I had some for early lunch just now and narrowly avoided eating one of the big slices of ginger I put in there for flavor. Also focaccia with oregano and garlic confit.

This tumblr blog turned 14.

Researching laptops; current one went to 5% within a ridiculously brief time when I tried to do spreadsheet on bed, so that means it is functionally unusable unplugged—I usually keep it plugged in but this seems dire. It’s been making bad noises when I use it to look for its own successor.

[ne0ngenisis]

Let's talk about my BABIES

(in order of acquisition)

---

Number One! ThinkPad T440p! (Not actually named)

This was a bit of an impulse purchase, as all of my laptops have been in the last threeish months. I knew of the trans girl stereotype of ThinkPads and Linux, and I wanted that. Especially because my laptop at the time was a crappy HP Stream (pictured underneath the ThinkPad) that couldn't run Windows without crashing constantly.

So I did some research and found out that this was the last model with socketed processors, and just kinda went for it! It arrived in much better condition than the pics suggested so I imagine the seller picked the wrong laptop out of the pile, but I'm not complaining.

It truly was nothing special when it was new, but I've upgraded it quite a bit since then! A 2C/4T 2.4GHz i3-4000M to a 4c/8t 3.7GHz i7-4800MQ, 16GB of RAM, and a 1TB SSD! It took me about five hours to install and configure Arch Linux on here, and that was with the guidance of friends who are a lot nerdier than me and I actually cried like, twice, out of frustration... BUT, it's been a solid performer ever since.

It cost me about $170 after everything I've done to it, but I still need to replace the screen on it with a 1080p IPS model, because the 768p TN panel is now literally the worst laptop screen I own. Apple seriously had better ones 12 years before this.

---

Number two! 12" iBook G3/500, "Baby"

Baby features in my current profile banner, as it's the laptop I carry around with me all the time to write on the go. The battery life is still pretty fantastic for its age, and it's super cute and small (the same depth as my ThinkPad not including the thicc battery, but about 2" narrower due to 4:3 aspect ratio).

I also picked this one up on a whim, because I was taken by an Apple hyperfixation, and also the image of a coffee shop hipster writing on an iBook. This one isn't a clamshell, love it or hate it, but I love it.

It's the very earliest model from 2001, with a 500MHz G3, 64MB of built-in RAM, and a CD-ROM drive. The original 10GB hard drive was missing so I went through the painstaking process of digging down to where it belongs and installing a 40GB IDE laptop drive I LITERALLY found in the trash.

I also spent $17 on a pair of working batteries and ended up with one that lasts for a good 4.5 hours when all you're doing is word processing, which I was and generally still do. Very close to factory battery life. I also spent about $16 on a charger because I didn't have one yet.

At first, I put Mac OS 9.2.2 on here, because it didn't have enough RAM for OS X as far as I could tell. Once I got the RAM upgrade (now 576MB, 64MB built-in + 512MB module), I installed OSX Tiger on here as well.

It's got some old OS9 games like Diablo II, Quake, Warcraft II, and I actually still own a physical copy of Riven on CD, so those all work on there. And I'm also using it to write, of course. However! It could not run Halo: Combat Evolved. Which led me to more purchases, lmao. I have considered doing a logic board swap to a faster CPU but that would be a daunting task...

It ended up costing me about $90, after the laptop, ram upgrade, charger, and working batteries.

---

Number three! 14" iBook G4/1.07, "Ghost"

Ghost is a funny one. Also driven by impulse, in this case, to have an old Mac laptop that could play Halo. I actually received it on the same day as the next one on this list. This is a 2004 1.07GHz 14" iBook G4 with 256MB of built-in RAM and a 256MB module for a total of 512MB, and a combo drive, I believe. This one actually came with a 1GB module in it, and an Airport card, but I swapped some parts around to make my G4 PowerBook more usable.

It was incredibly cursed, including weird freezing and crashes, refusing to install updates and to mount USB devices, and then it just stopped seeing the hard drive all together. I took it apart twice, once to take the hard drive out to discover it was the original 40GB Apple branded hard drive, and another to put it back in once it started booting in my PowerBook G4 (number 4 on the list), and all the cursedness went away somehow!

I still named it Ghost in honor of the cursedness.

I don't have a good battery for it at this time. Right now the only working 14" iBook battery I have (which I paid like $35 for) lasts about an hour, and the 12" battery I have in there now dies at a seemingly random percentage around 60% because the battery isn't reporting its capacity correctly. I did design and order a 3D printed adapter bracket thing so maybe I can stop using fucking masking tape to hold the battery in. It may become more used than my 12" once I get the battery, entirely due to the larger screen and faster processor.

I did have to replace the F12 key, because the original one was missing. This was made a lot easier by having the PowerBook G4 which we'll go over next. Now it's like an accent escape key for a fancy mechanical keyboard, or a gold tooth!

This one actually cost me the least out of all of them, at $69, including the battery I'm not even using, and it came with a second charger, which is good! Though, I guess with the 3D printed battery adapter you can up that price to $80. Or lower it to $44 if the battery doesn't count!

---

Number four! 15" PowerBook G4/1.33G, "Alice"

Alice was purchased just days later than my iBook G4, but showed up on the same day. And boy, she was a basket case. I have named her Alice because of "Al" being the elemental symbol for Aluminum, as she's a 2004 Aluminum PowerBook G4, with a 1.33GHz processor and 1.5GB of RAM. It originally came with 512MB of RAM in two modules, but I put in a 512MB stick I found in the trash, plus the 1GB module and the Airport card from the iBook G4 to make it a more usable laptop in the modern day.

The problems were immediate when I got it plugged in for the first time, as there was seemingly no display, until I noticed the dark screen started to change colors. There was a picture... there was just no backlight. To my surprise, the sketchy looking aftermarket battery actually worked fine still, and it was good for about 3.5 hours of use.

Getting it hooked up to an external display, I started to notice that the trackpad button didn't work either. It's a good thing these parts were cheap.

I actually tried fixing the backlight inverter myself, as the issue was there was a coil that had detached itself from the board. My jank soldering work lasted about 15 minutes before it made a buzzing sound and one of the little wire stubs came detached from the side of the coil. RIP.

A week or so later, the backlight inverter and trackpad cable show up, and me being able to actually use the laptop properly shows even more problems. It won't sleep when it's plugged in. But only when it's plugged in. I can't get into the boot picker. Five of the keys on the keyboard also don't work. As it turns out, all of these problems are keyboard problems, and that fixed all of them.

Basket case-ness is different from cursedness. I knew what parts needed replacing on the PowerBook. The iBook just misbehaved until it suddenly stopped misbehaving.

It cost me about $95, including the laptop itself, the backlight inverter board, trackpad ribbon cable, and a glorious (pure sex to type on) new-old stock keyboard.

---

Number Five! Late 06 15" MacBook Pro, 2.16GHz C2D, "Dolores"

My MacBook Pro. As with the others, it was an impulse purchase, though it's required the most extreme repairs of any of these laptops so far. It's a Late 2006 15" model, with a Core 2 Duo T7400, and pre-upgraded to the maximum of 3GB of RAM and a 120GB SSD. It came with all sorts of goodies, including an 85-watt MagSafe charger, copies of iWork and iLife 2009, the original recovery DVDs for 10.4.8 Tiger, and a hard copy of OSX 10.6 Snow Leopard. What it did not include was a battery.

Initially I tried booting it up from nothing, and it would get stuck on a white or blue screen sometime after the Apple logo disappeared, and the same would happen when I put the Snow Leopard DVD into the drive. When I put the Tiger DVDs in, it would install the OS fine, but the resulting install wouldn't boot either. And then I noticed the artifacting.

I knew that this was a possibility with basically any model of pre-unibody MacBook Pro. All of them have graphics issues, though the '07 and '08 models have it a lot worse than the '06 models. I end up complaining about this on a Discord server, and another queer nerd tells me that the boot failure is probably because of the GPU being marginal, and since it's an ATI Radeon GPU instead of an Nvidia GPU, a reflow might help it.

So... I take it apart for the second time that day, after the first time to repaste the CPU, Northbridge, and GPU, and I bathe the GPU in 350°C air from my rework station for about 6 minutes, letting the board rest for 20 minutes before I reapply thermal paste again and reassemble it. Now it boots into MacOS fine. I installed Snow Leopard and updated to Lion, and it's been fine since, though the 32-bit EFI firmware has caused some issues with attempts to get Linux working on the damn thing, though I'm told the GPU could just be playing nice with MacOS but still not good enough to work in Linux.

I tried getting a battery off of eBay, a cheap replacement battery, but it only half works. It powers the laptop, but it won't show up in the OS to show any percentage or capacity, and it won't charge either. So I bought a single-use battery. I'm trying to message the seller and get my money back right now.

It has cost me about $74 including the cost of the crappy essentially single use battery. I'll probably get an actually good one from OWC eventually, because I want to be able to use this laptop as a daily at some point.

---

Well, that's it! For now. I also have my eyes set on a mid 2009 white MacBook but that will be a later kind of thing. Not right now, while there's still work to be done on my other laptops.

#transgender #writing #ibook #macbook #apple #laptops #thinkpad #linuxuser #linux #powerbook #macbook pro

[laneelliot12]

I love the way you draw cats! How did you adopt a style like that? Who/What were your inspirations?

Thank you!!! I'm so glad people have been liking them!! I'd say I get a lot of style elements from popular cartoons, like pokemon, but I also take a lot of care in my references, and learned to breakdown their shapes over years of trial and error. I'd say a majority of the inspo I got was from random warrior cats speed paints on youtube- I'd pause the frames and pay attention to all the different steps they did! I don't think any one youtuber stood out to me as someone I got my style from, but It's def an amalgamation of a bunch of creators from the early 2010's! I'd love to post something, or even a video one day, of how I do each of the steps I do to get where I get! [Below is a retelling of my art journey if anyone is interested!]

I'd like to think I've got two styles of drawing: art for ocs, and canonized fan art. For both I use a great deal of references, either chosen from stock/free use image sites or from pictures of my three irl cats (who are very photogenic <3)! I am self taught, which means I've gone through a LOT of trial and error over the good decade I've been into the WC fandom. About a year or two ago, my laptop (that I've had since childhood) crashed so hard it deleted everything from my hard drive, losing YEARS of progress/artwork that I hadn't posted anywhere. Foolishly, months before that, I'd deleted my DeviantArt where all my cringe emo ocs were posted, something I was embarrassed of at the time, and now deeply regret doing (fr keep and date ALL of your art it is so important for your growth). I wish more than anything that I could post some of it here to show how my style has grown and changed, but sadly, I'll just have to describe it to ya.

[^^^ Above: the only bit of art I have saved from that time!]

I started drawing wc art in the 4th grade with some friends at my school- a very close friend of mine had started doing it, and I had never really drawn before, so I just followed along with what she did; the meme-y 'firestar doesn't like waffles/derp' fad of the time had be in a VICE GRIP and a lot of my work looked like that. I drew almost exclusively on paper, until my parents let me use the trackpad/mouse on the family computer in mspaint, where my passion for it really started to take off.

From there I got into deviantart, and started out like a lot of young kids did- thick, uniform lineart, coloring in the flats manually, tons of airbrushes and clip images of sparkles, the GOOD STUFF. I would hold paper up to the computer screen and trace the emo mspaint scourge pmvs frame by frame, I was obsessed. Then, for my 13th birthday, my uncle gifted me my very first wacom tablet; a tiny, 6x6 plastic plate that came with a pen and a too short chord. I drew constantly, watching speed paints and reading riverspirit comics until my eyes melted out of my skull, rp'd and posted little comics about my day to day. This went on and I very slowly started improving the more naturally drawing came to me; I held my pen different, downloaded a pirated version of firealpaca, learned about lineweight, obtained LAYERS. Almost seven years ago now, that friend I started drawing with passed away while she was very young. I couldn't stomach drawing warrior cats art for a long time after that; and, my parents had been urging me to give it up for a while too (in their opinions, if I was going to waste my time drawing, it should be something I could do to make money. If only they could see my commission having ass now!!). I still made art, but I did it formally; still life, paintings, figure sketches. When I got to highschool, I went to a specialized program for gifted students (burnout king right here) and took a TON of formal art classes, studying it as my main field. I learned about shapes and color and the natural flow of a piece; but I never really get over my love of cartoons, or my love of warrior cats art. There was just something so special about it, so unique to any fandom I've ever been in, that eventually, I was called back to it. My life was very difficult during that time, when I decided to redraw some of my old digital art for a class warmup. I hadn't touched a laptop in years, and it was ROUGH, but I reconnected with it instantly, and it was the first bit of serotonin I'd had in a WHILE. I got back into roleplays, got back into tumblr, got back into all the old stuff that made me happy.

I graduated highschool in 2020 and started drawing a lot of warrior cats content in between shifts- which leads to where I am now! I was deeply insecure about it and would hide the fact I did it from people I knew irl because I was afraid they'd think im cringe (I am cringe and I love that about myself now, thank u therapy)- and now, I pay for our internet bill off warrior cats commission money, which felt like a pretty big leap!! I still like doing 'formal traditional art', and it has influenced my art and it's shapes a ton- but I still cling to the anime eyes I loved to draw as the kid who wanted to make cartoons for all the world to see.

#warrior cats #my art journey #inbox

[spiritshaydra]

I’m so angry, my iPad is crashing again so I can’t work on my owed art for Christmas OR the mountain of stuff I gotta get done by mid January :,) I’ve tried hooking it up to my laptop to offload files to my external hard drive, but none of the files will transfer over and it’s driving me mad :/

Like,, iTunes won’t even show a progress bar on them transferring and it instead just freezes

My iPad is so low on storage that I can’t transfer files off of it tO FREE UP STORAGE

I hate technology

So it’s looking like I’m going to be doing my owed art the old fashioned way which is just,, busting out my markers and praying 💀

#props to anyone who remembers my marker days #spit takes #lets hope I still know how to use them 💀