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captured from an ambulance. captured. from an ambulance. do not stop speaking about palestine please

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scared cat

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this bitch love catboys (meow, meow, meow)

The first hour of Thursday media goes better than expected.

Max is the center of attention, as per usual, the fucker. Walked into the paddock late, head held high, gigantic cat ears with dark brown tufts peeking out over the top, a bushy tail poking out from under his polo. About a million cameras were shoved in his face, and he just laughed it all off, calmly explaining to the media how he seemed to have gotten hit by a slow-acting jinx last time out in Austria, as he was leaving the track. He woke up the next morning with the cat ears and the tail, had a video consult with one of the FIA-approved witches on consult, and was cleared to race.

Lando’s known about it since yesterday. He heard about it from Daniel, who flew with Max from Austria to the UK. Sent him a photo of Max unawares and on his phone, scratching at one of his cat ears.

The jinx should go away by the summer break, Max explained. Anamorphic jinxes typically go away on their own, but he’s been taking these daily jinx-negating potions to ensure the spell doesn’t stick. The FIA are doing some investigations, but with so many fans around, it’s a bit of a moot point, trying to figure out who cast the spell.

It’s not the strangest jinx that’s hit the paddock, but it is the first one in many years. Better than when Daniel four years ago could only speak Italian for three fucking races.

Lando readjusts his hat on his head, leaving his interview with Sky. Netflix had him in the morning, as he was heading to the track, so at least he made it out of that one alive.

There’s a bit of a lull in the day, between morning media and lunch. Some of the drivers have collected in one of the canopies near the media pen. Lando spots George, Lewis, and Alex all talking together, so he makes his way over, chats with them for a bit, and it’s all good fun: a nice reprieve from media day. It puts him back in good spirits. It is their home race, after all.

And then Max comes walking over, and Lando swallows. Brings his hands up to his head and fixes his cap more firmly over the top of his skull, for good measure. Wraps his big coat securely over his body.

It’s his first time properly seeing Max in person, since last Sunday, and his first time seeing the cat ears and tail up close. Lando kind of hates it, how cool it looks on Max.

“Hey,” George says.

“Hey,” Max responds, greeting George, then Alex, then letting Lewis dap him up. He glances at Lando, like he wants to say something, but Lando quickly evades his gaze, staring down at his feet.

“I like the ears,” Alex says, and Max laughs.

“Thanks,” Max says. His tail, sticking up straight, curls at the tip, by the base of his neck. “I think it’s a Maine Coon?”

George squints. “Like those gigantic cats?” he asks, holding his arms out wide.

Max shrugs. “Think so. My tail is of course quite big,” he says, gesturing behind him.

And then George, bizarrely, asks, “Can I feel?”

Lando bristles.

Max laughs again. When he smiles, Lando notices that his canines are sharper. He darts his eyes away.

“Sure mate,” Max says, and Lando tries not to do something odd with his face. “Just don’t like, pull on it or anything,” he says, then shifts his body to the side.

His tail wiggles a bit, before George reaches over and wraps his fingers around the tail, feeling the fur in his palms.

“Kinda sick,” George says, and Lando lets out a breath when he finally brings his hands back to himself.

“Right?” Max says, then his eyes flick to Alex and Lewis. “Do you two want to feel?”

It makes both Alex and Lewis laugh, and Alex opens his mouth to say something, when George narrows his eyes, looking right at Lando.

“Mate, your hat’s a bit crooked.”

Shit. Lando hadn’t noticed.

His hands fly up to his head, shoving his cap back down over his head.

“It’s fine,” he says, mouth twisting.

But when he removes his hands, his hat shifts again. His face burns, and he tries to fix it again, only for it to lift back up.

“Bad hair day?” Alex asks, tilting his head to the side, and Lando glares but doesn’t say anything. Max is looking at Lando now, eyes wide and curious. He keeps his hands on his head. Fuck this, he thinks.

“What’s going on?”

Lando turns his head to the side.

Oh, thank god, it’s Oscar.

Lando sighs in relief, and prepares to exit, only for George to announce, “Lando’s being weird about his cap.”

Lando stiffens, hands still firmly over his hat. “I’m not—fuck off. Maybe it’s a defect.”

Oscar turns his head toward Lando, staring. Lando glares back, hoping that Oscar’s gained the ability to read minds. Let’s. Leave, he tries to communicate.

Oscar smiles at him, and Lando’s chest clenches with hope that he understood, and then Oscar turns to Max and says, “Sick ears mate.”

Lando’s jaw drops.

This fucking traitor.

“Thanks!” Max says, cheeks flushed a bit with pride.

Oscar presses his lips together, and a slow sort of horror starts to build up in Lando’s belly when Oscar opens his mouth, and says, “Have you seen Lan—”

Instinct has Lando finally letting go of his hat and leaping over to cover Oscar’s mouth.

And the movement—

It’s a windy day in Silverstone, and the breeze blows through, even in the little canopy they’re under.

Lando doesn’t realize that his hat’s flown off his head until he lets his gaze drift to the side, where Max is now staring at him with wide eyes.

Oh, he thinks. Fuck.

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need nico back on commentary and call landoscar fake PR and pathetic if it's real

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"Kimi is the standout among the boys," said the boss about his rough diamond, whose real name is Andrea. "But at school they called him Kimi, so I call him Kimi too. Except when I'm not happy with him, then he's Andrea, that's what we agreed."

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some predictions from someone who is not gonna watch most of this season:

this is shaping up to be lando norris maiden championship UNLESS redbull get their car fixed in which case it's max's fifth title.

the only way a non mclaren driver or max wins is if mclarens keep taking points off each other aka trading wins. this is mcl's only shot at securing both wdc and wcc before the regs change next year, so I am assuming after half season they're going to implement team orders/1-2 order. so if oscar wants his shot, he needs to catch up to lando in the standings and decisively beat him the next few races.

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lando norris the type of guy to show his enemy his gaping wound and point at it and say Hey this is where My Wound is

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Im crying I ain’t see anyone give a fuck about Pierre in all of this

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— Mallory Pearson, The Heaviest Rain We Ever Had

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motogp riders out here treating broken bones like mosquito bites while my girl's pain face game over a minor hand injury could power the whole medical center's drama ward

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in retrospect max radioing in “charles has a broken front wing” on lap 1 is so funny… bro knew that car was going to be disqualified and told EVERYONE.

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sausage dogs are kinda ugly

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Lovely ❤️

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The Cat From Outer Space, Norman Tokar, 1978