My 3 Favorite Men

Seb's Head & Jenson's Shoulders

hnnrtgghhrdhd

SV5 x Porsche

I’m always so motivated to draw Seb, here inspired by his newest look featuring the Porsche 963!! I’m so excited to see him drive again, I’m not exaggerating when I say I teared up yesterday with the news, and more knowing he was happy and having fun with it 🥹 whatever he does, if he’s happy, I’m happy. ❤️

Max giving a thumbs up to Charles only to end up spinning in the next corner, Bahrain 2019

Charles gives a thumbs up too in answer 🥹

Max's spin in a different angle:

fernando getting the princess treatment from matt like he deserves 🥰

2014

might drag seb back into that car myself

when you die, gojo is still in denial. they say there are five stages of grief, yet he still hasn't been past that first phase. he misses it a lot. your touch on his skin. the way you'd trace random lines on his thighs when you were so indulge in a book. and that sudden grip whenever you came across a thrilling part of it. he always chuckled at your sudden "whats" and "awws".

he misses how your voice would always get gentler when you spoke to him. your usual voice was a little loud but whenever you spoke to him, you'd be so sweet and calm.

he misses how you'd outshine anyone and everyone around you. even him. the strongest. your smile was brighter than the diamond on your engagement ring. but life is unfair, isn't it? he was so excited to turn you from his fiánce to his wife, only to find you dead and cold on the ground, the crimson blood filming the diamond, drenching it in itself.

but to this day, even after so many years, he still finds himself in denial when he accidentally (to what it seems like a hundredth accident) calls you his wife mid conversation with someone else. "oh my wife loves this...perfume," he says to the worker, his voice fading in the end when he realizes he was supposed to use past tense. "loved"

"why don't you gift it to her? i am sure she'll love it," the girl smiles. if only she knew.

but he buys it anyway. decorates it with pink ribbons and stuff, even when he knew you were not there to open it anymore. he comes home, sits in one dim light of the bedroom, unwrapping it. he sprays the perfume on one of your dress that he loved. your scent. god he misses it. the cerulean eyes mimic an ocean once again in the wait of his lover. a useless wait for you were never arriving on his door ever again.