#George russell

[thearchercore]

george saying he's surprised the fia hasn't responded to them after their ig post. charles saying he's surprised they're making changes now without explanation. max saying it's weird to learn about the fia related news through social media since no one is talking to them..

they're about to get 20 outstanding penalties between them

[lawfulbutawful]

Because I'm very stupid, all this time, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was thinking that the giant Senna helmet would be mobile, like a parade float. But it's obviously, visibly not.

this is the funniest picture I've ever seen

[kimis25]

merc silly tiktoks i will always love you

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

I feel like it’s my curse to make these. Here’s part nine I guess

Masterlist

[icybomblvr]

[letsxf1]

OMG THEY ARE ALMOST TWINS LMAO

does this make any sense

[umgeorge]

Press con questions that weren't shown:

Q: (Jenna Fryer – Associated Press) George, were you guys blindsided by this or have any idea that it was coming or under consideration, that a change in Race Director was coming? GR: No, no idea whatsoever. So, yeah, as I said, it was a bit of a bit of surprise.

Q: (Luke Smith – The Athletic) George, has there been any response from the FIA or the FIA president to what the GPDA put out? GR: No. Not at the moment, which I'm a little bit surprised about, to be fair. But maybe there'll be something to come. Who knows?

Q: (Ben Hunt – Autosport) It's obviously very disappointing to learn from you that there's no transparency at all from the FIA. Was there any response about where the money's going from for all these fines and all that sort of stuff? Because that's another key element which we would quite like to know as well. GR: No, I think ultimately for us, when we were hearing from the FIA a couple of years ago, when it came to the Presidential elections, they were talking about transparency, talking about where the money is going to be reinvested into grassroots racing, which we're all in favour for. And of course, when it comes to some of these large fines, there's a number of drivers on the grid who can comfortably afford these fines. There's maybe some rookies on the grid that if they're handed a $1 million fine, you know, they can't afford this. But if we know where that's being sort of reinvested and if it's going into grassroots or into some training programs, then we get it. As I said, I think we just want the transparency and understanding of what was promised from the beginning.

Q: (Kevin Scheuren – Motorsport-total.com) A question to George as well on that topic. Isn't it a bad sign that you need to open up a social media account to make your voices heard as a collective? Because it sometimes seems, looking from the outside, that the individual, if the individual has an opinion on stuff, he faces repercussions. Now you have to work as a collective. Are you more or less a pawn in this game? Do you drivers feel sometimes more or less as a pawn in this game, not taken serious? GR: I think we've probably learned from the past that whenever we have spoken up, let's say internally, it hasn't gone anywhere. And as I said, as drivers, we only want the best for the sport. We want to improve it, especially on safety grounds, but whenever it comes to, you know, decisions in the race, we only want to help. And it's been a couple of years now that not much has changed when we have sort of given some views forward. And I guess we all wanted to show that we are collectively united. And maybe that will show how seriously we feel as a whole on the subject.

Q: (Andrew Benson – BBC Sport) George, it's been seven years since the GPDA had put out a public statement of this kind about something they were concerned about. What level of confidence do the drivers have in the leadership of the FIA at the moment? GR: I mean, I'm not too sure to be honest. We recognise everybody's working as hard as they can to do the best job possible. There is obviously a huge amount of change within the FIA quite regularly, so it's clearly not the most stable of places. And maybe that's why it's been a bit challenging to get some of the changes that we've wanted implemented. Of course, everyone has their own side to their own story. But as I said, I think if we feel that we're being listened to and some of the changes that we are experiencing, requesting, are implemented, because ultimately we're only doing it for the benefit of the sport, then maybe our confidence will increase. But yeah, I think there's a number of drivers who feel probably a bit fed up with the whole situation. And it only seems to be going in, to a degree, the wrong direction.

Q: (Jordan Bianchi – The Athletic) For all three drivers: you returned to Vegas this year. A year ago, there was a lot of hype and excitement about this race. I'm curious, now that you come back here for a second time, what's the atmosphere like that you guys have kind of experienced so far? Kevin, let's start with you.

GR: Yeah, I mean, it definitely feels strange, this Grand Prix, just living in the night. And like Kevin says, the atmosphere builds up during the course of the weekend. So, yeah, let's see how it goes.

Q: (Anna Cordera – Momentum Racing) George, I'd like to ask you, you've been racing with Lewis for almost three years. What do you think is going to be different now you being the veteran of the team racing with Kimi, regarding the development of the car? GR: Yeah, I mean, ultimately, for most F1 teams, you have near on 1,000 people who are working towards building these two cars, yet you only have two drivers driving it. So, I think, let's say, in Lewis, in my case, it was never that Lewis had a stronger voice. The team listened to us both equally because both of our opinions were extremely important. And the same going into next year. You know, Kimi's new. He's fresh. And I'm sure he's going to have a lot of great ideas to bring to the table. So, you know, I am the more experienced of the two, but we will both get equal voices the same way, and we will both equally contribute towards the development the same way as it was with Lewis and I.

Q: (Ian Parkes – New York Times) Sorry, another question to you, George. George, is it that difficult to try and get a sit-down face-to-face meeting with the President of the FIA to discuss all these issues, that you have to go down the route that you did with that message? GR: It's definitely not difficult to get a sit down, but I think getting things to change or getting promises upheld seems slightly more challenging. So, it's maybe the FIA or the president didn't recognise how seriously we all felt. So I think that's why over the course of 20 races this year and also even last year we spoke about a number of topics, all of the drivers, we all feel pretty similar. We all know what we want from the sport and the direction it's been heading and we probably feel that we want to do a small U-turn on a number of topics and just want to work together with the FIA on this. And that's just what we've felt has not been happening at all, at least directly from the President.

[thearchercore]

las vegas gp so far

[loveyatopluto]

He’s their son

every picture and video i see of carmen and kimi it’s like carmen is excited about the little puppy George got her

[mrsfancyferrari]

Real Love Pt 2

Summary: You and Carlos were just supposed to be a PR couple for less than a year but someone decided to catch feelings. Part 2

Song: Collide - Justine Skye

Part 1 Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 8.6k

You lay snugly beneath the soft sheets, the golden morning light streaming through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, gently warming your skin.

You can feel the faint rhythm of Carlos’s heartbeat as he lies beside you, the intimate silence only occasionally punctuated by the soft chirping of birds outside.

The world feels as if it has paused, just for the two of you.

“Are you sure you won’t regret this?” you ask, pulling back to study his face, your heart racing.

This is the third kiss since you woke up an hour ago, a sweet closeness you never thought would come to this, despite the countless moments shared—the stolen glances during games, the playful banter after late-night training sessions.

His dark eyes search yours, a flicker of something fierce and protective igniting in their depths. “Mi amor, I could never regret this,” Carlos replies, his voice low, an intoxicating blend of affection and certainty.

“But what about the team?” you counter, slipping further down into the warmth of blankets, away from the weight of the conversation. “They’ll be mad about us breaking the PR contract.”

Carlos pushes himself onto his elbow, his hair tousled but framing his striking face perfectly. “I don’t care about them,” he declares seriously, leaning closer as if the intimacy of the space can seal your secret. “I only care about you.”

The words sit in the air between you both like a fragile promise. For a moment, you can’t breathe, your heart thundering against your ribcage as his gaze holds yours captive. With a deep breath, you let his confession wash over you.

“I want to do this…for real,” you answer, your voice scrunching down into uncertainty beneath the weight of possibility. It feels right but so precariously delicate, like the morning sun reflected through the rain-slicked leaves outside.

Carlos’s lips curve into a genuine smile, the kind that lights up every shadowed corner of the room. “Then let’s go for it,” he says, the playful twinkle in his eye returning. “Let’s make this our secret love story.”

You chuckle softly, the tension beginning to melt away. “Our secret? Like something out of a rom-com?” You raise an eyebrow teasingly as a grin dances on your face, allowing your own excitement to bubble beneath the surface.

“Exactly! Just without the horrifying misunderstandings,” he adds, chuckling and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer. You snuggle into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of him igniting something deep within you. The soft scent of his cologne mixes with the morning air—a heady concoction you want to bottle forever.

“Okay, Mr. Love Story, what’s the premise?” you ask, looking up at him with mock seriousness.

He scratches his chin, feigning deep thought. “A blockbuster soccer star falls for the journalist tasked with covering his team’s next big match, but they must navigate the storm of media scrutiny and a wildcard PR nightmare,” he finalizes, winking at you.

“Wow, that sounds…dramatic,” you laugh, shaking your head. “We’re not exactly in a movie, Carlos.” But even as you say the words, the thought isn’t entirely unwelcome. This does feel like a story freshly spun from the hearts of the fortunate.

“Do you not want to be in a movie with me?” he teases, leaning down so that his lips graze your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers racing down your spine.

“You know I’m already in one,” you whisper back, your pulse quickening. “With the hottest player in the league, no less.”

His laughter vibrates through you, a melodic sound that rattles the silence and ignites the room. “Then let’s make this one a blockbuster, too.”

You chuckle but then grow serious again, those reminders creeping back in. “But what about the consequences? Our teammates? What if they don’t take it well?”

With a single finger, he lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Let them talk. You and I? We’re worth it. If we stand together, we can face anything. Right?”

Your heart swells at his confidence, your own self-doubt hindering but not extinguishing your burgeoning feelings. “Right,” you agree, your mind skipping back to the moments before this: how he turned from being just a teammate into something much deeper, something exhilarating.

Carlos leans in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “So, tell me, are you ready for a bit of adventure, then?”

You swallow, considering your response—because it’s no longer just an idle thought; it’s a leap you are willing to take. “As long as you’re by my side,” you finally say, honesty spilling from you. “I think I am.”

“Then let’s make it an adventure. Just us,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours, each kiss igniting embers of anticipation as if the world outside the walls had vanished entirely.

You close your eyes, feeling the cocoon of his arms—and the reality of your mutual promise—that no matter where this journey takes you both, you’ll face it together.

As the kiss deepens, you push aside your lingering doubts, giving in to the warmth that curls around you like a soft blanket. In this moment, nothing else matters except the two of you, wrapped in this intimacy, ready to rewrite your own story—even if it meant braving the chaos that love always brings with it. As dawn breaks fully outside your window, the slate is clean, and the sun just beginning to rise, a symbol of new beginnings, a notion that glows warmly between you.

And together, you choose to embrace the story—whatever that may entail—fully and absolutely. . . .

You stood in the kitchen, staring across the room where your boyfriend Carlos, racing superstar and current Formula One champion, was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and a playful scowl on his face.

His dark curls fell over his forehead, making him look both infuriated and irresistibly charming. The kitchen was buzzing with activity; friends and family had gathered to celebrate his latest Grand Prix victory, laughing and raising glasses of champagne in a toast to his success.

But all you could think about was the tension crackling between you and Carlos, a palpable energy that felt wholly out of place amid all the jovial noise.

“Carlos,” you whispered, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, “you can’t seriously be thinking about that right now. Look at everyone!”

He stepped closer, the sound of laughter fading away as he moved in, eyes darkening with mischief. “I’m serious. You’d better get rid of everyone in this house or I swear to God, I’m gonna fuck you on the first flat surface I can find, and I know you don’t want anyone to know what you sound like when I’m fucking you.”

Your heart raced at his boldness, a heat rising to your cheeks. Gone was the charming boyfriend; now you were staring down the passionate, possessive man you adored, and a thrill shot through you. You glanced at the crowd of shared laughter and merriment that felt impossibly distant now. “What, you think I can just shout ‘party’s over’?”

Carlos stepped in closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe just suggest a drink outside? We don’t need an audience for this. I'm not joking, cariño.” His eyes bore into yours, filled with a fierce warmth that made your breath hitch.

“Heavens! How did I get stuck with such a needy boyfriend?” you teased, swaying your hip slightly as you pretended to survey the party, putting up a façade against his fiery gaze.

“Needy? You have no idea, love,” he said, stepping into your personal space, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ve waited all day for this.” The possessiveness in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you torn between laughter and an overwhelming desire to pull him into a nearby room and shut the world out.

You motioned discreetly to your friend Emily, who was standing near the snacks table, her eyes twinkling with merriment. You gestured for her to come over. “Listen, I need you to cause a distraction. The kind only you can pull off.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, a smile dancing on her lips. “Are you getting interrupted by a hot F1 driver here? Because I can kick them out if necessary!”

“Just kick them out,” you whispered, trying to suppress a laugh. “I need some alone time with Carlos, and I don’t mean just to stare at him.”

With a knowing grin, she straightened and clinked her glass loudly against the snack table. “Alright everyone! Who’s down for a game of charades? Because I want to see if Carlos can act out the last lap of the race!”

The room erupted in a mix of cheers and laughter, and you felt Carlos’s arm slip around your waist, pulling you possessively against him.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple. “Good job, mi amor,” he said, warmth flooding through you as he spoke. “Now let’s get out of here.”

The two of you slipped quietly through the back door, navigating the sprawling garden where soft twinkling lights adorned the trees like stars.

The noise of the party faded behind you, the cool evening breeze wrapping around your skin as you stepped into the intoxicating silence of the night.

Carlos didn’t waste any time. He turned to face you, his gaze heated, full of need. “Finally,” he muttered, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his body against yours, closing the distance in an exhilarating rush.

You giggled, both nervous and excited. “We really shouldn’t. What if someone comes out here?”

“The only thing I care about right now is you,” he said, lips brushing yours just enough to tease but not enough to take. “I want you to know exactly how much I’ve been thinking about you all night. It’s torture having you close and not being able to touch you.”

“Then why don’t you?” you challenged lightly, your own body tightening in anticipation.

Carlos smirked at your challenge, there was a dark promise in his eyes as he pulled you flush against him, capturing your lips with his. The kiss ignited something deep within you, a need that wasn’t just physical but pulled at your very soul.

He deepened the kiss, and you sighed into him, fingers threading through his curls, wanting more, wanting all of him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, breaking away just enough to trace the line of your chin with his finger. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“Lucky or not, you’re not getting rid of me,” you teased, sweat and laughter alighting the air between you.

“I don’t want to,” he replied, his face serious now, eyes dark and earnest. “You’re the one I want, always.”

A rush of warmth flowed through you, and you found yourself caught between laughter and exhilaration. “So, where do we…?” you began, glancing around the garden, your heart pounding like the engines of the race cars he drove.

“There,” he said, nodding toward a flat stone bench nestled between the blooming azaleas. “Perfect.”

You couldn’t help but giggle again, and Carlos grinned that breathtaking smile that made your heart race even faster. Before you could respond, he swept you into his arms, holding you close as he placed you onto the cool stone surface.

Your body tingled as you felt the warmth radiating from him, the electricity in the air palpably changing as you pulled him back to you, lips crashing against his in a fervent dance.

“Just us now,” he whispered against your lips, and with a smirk, you could hardly believe the sense of freedom you felt.

Tonight, in this garden, when the whole world seemed to recede, there was only Carlos, only you. And the night seemed like it would stretch on forever. . . .

You had just settled comfortably into your cozy corner of your shared home with Carlos when your phone rang.

It was a sunny Saturday, far removed from the high-octane world of Formula 1, and you had spent the day reading and sipping on a cup of chamomile tea, looking forward to Carlos coming home after practice.

“Hey, Charles,” you said, trying to keep your voice upbeat.

You had always appreciated how close your boyfriend was with Charles Leclerc, but the more you got to know him, the more you were aware that he had a serious side, especially when it came to his friends.

“Hey Y/N,” he replied, his tone more serious than usual. “I’m at the paddock with Carlos. He’s not feeling well.”

“Not feeling well? What do you mean?” Your heart raced, your pulse quickening as you imagined the possibilities.

The last thing you wanted was for Carlos to be sick. Your afternoon suddenly shifted from a tranquil day to a worrying reality.

“He just collapsed after getting out of the car,” Charles said, his voice filled with concern. “I think he overworked himself today. You should come out here.”

You felt a rush of panic. “I’ll be there right away. Is he… can he stand?”

“Not really. I’ve got him lying on the ground. He should be okay, but he needs you.”

“Okay. I’m on my way,” you said, already gathering your things as you rushed toward the door. Anxiety pulsed through you as you grabbed your keys, your mind racing with thoughts of Carlos, imagining him weak and vulnerable on the ground amid the chaos of the paddock.

The drive felt eternal. You envisioned Carlos's laughter, the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about racing, and how his smile could banish any dark thoughts.

The thought of him ill gnawed at you. “Get it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Arriving at the paddock, you sprinted toward the chaos, a whirlwind of mechanics and team members working frantically. Your eyes scanned the scene, searching for a familiar face until you spotted Charles, his brows furrowed with concern.

“He’s over here,” he said, leading you to a shaded area where Carlos lay on the ground, looking pale yet conscious. Your heart sank at the sight of him, but relief washed over you when you realized he was still aware of his surroundings.

“Carlos!” you called, rushing to his side. He looked up, his eyes trying to focus as a small smile crept onto his face despite the discomfort.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured weakly.

“What have you done to yourself?” you scolded, crouching beside him and gently brushing the hair off his forehead. “You scared me!”

“I just… pushed a little too hard today,” Carlos admitted, his voice hoarse. “I thought I could handle it.”

Charles chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. “I warned him, but you know how stubborn he is.”

“Don’t start,” Carlos groaned, trying to sit up before deciding against it. “I’ll be fine, really. Just need to catch my breath.”

You held his hand, feeling the warmth in his palm even if the rest of him felt cold. “Well, you’re going to take it easy for the rest of the day. No racing, no pushing boundaries.”

“Deal,” Carlos said, his smile returning to his lips. You couldn't help but smile back, relieved that he wasn't in dire straits.

“I’ll make you soup when we get home,” you promised. “Oh, and I brought your favorite snacks.”

Carlos's eyes lit up at the mention of food. “You really know how to win a man’s heart.”

“Just stay focused on healing first, and maybe I’ll share them with you later,” you teased, squeezing his hand gently.

As you all waited for the paramedics to check him over, Carlos leaned back on the ground, looking at you with admiration. “Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

“Always,” you promised, your heart swelling. “Just try not to scare me like this again, okay? I can’t handle it.”

“I’ll work on that,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. You could sense the underlying bond between you deepening, filled with unspoken emotions.

You lay curled up on the couch, a plush blanket wrapped around you like a cocoon, feeling every bit of the cold that had taken residence in your bones.

It was a dreary day outside, the skies painted in hues of gray, and you could hear the faint echoes of the Formula One race festivities happening just outside your front door.

Carlos was deep in the paddock, working on the final preparations for the race, but all you could focus on was the dull ache in your head and the scratchiness in your throat.

You glanced at the clock. It was nearly six o'clock; Carlos should be back soon. You had tried to muster enough energy to at least make him something to eat, but the thought of standing up made the fatigue swell inside you.

Instead, you settled back into the cushions, reaching for your phone to check if he had sent any updates. As if on cue, a message popped up from him.

Carlos: "Just finishing up here. Can’t wait to come home to you. Love you!"

You smiled weakly at your screen, your heart fluttering at the thought of him. It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar click of the door, followed by the shuffling sound of Carlos’s shoes.

He appeared in the living room moments later, his expression shifting from exhaustion to concern when he spotted you.

“Oh no, mi amor,” he said, rushing to your side. He knelt down beside the couch, brushing a thumb across your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Just a little cold,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant, though your voice felt raw and shaky. “How was the paddock?”

Carlos stood up and grabbed a tiny towel from the kitchen, dampening it before placing it on your forehead. “The paddock was noisy and chaotic. You didn’t miss much, except for a few rumors about the team. But you? You’re the most important thing on my mind right now.”

You couldn’t help but smile. There was something so comforting about the way he effortlessly switched from race-mode to nurturing boyfriend.

“I’m just glad you’re back. I have to say, being alone while feeling like this isn’t the most fun I’ve ever had.”

He chuckled softly, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room, and sat on the edge of the couch, looking down at you with those intense brown eyes of his.

“I’m glad you’re resting, but I can’t leave you like this. I’ve got your soup from last time and some herbal tea I brought back from the paddock for you.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to go out of your way,” you said, feeling a warmth stir within you, annoyed at how sweetly he always insisted on taking care of you.

“Of course, I did,” he replied, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “Your health is my top priority. Tell me how you feel.”

“Like I’ve been run over by a car,” you joked, failing to hide a cough that erupted afterward. “And like I’m stuck in a room without food.”

“I can fix that.” He flashed a grin, and just the sight of it lifted your spirits despite the fog of illness clouding your mind.

He sprung up from the couch, his presence like a whirlwind moving through the kitchen.

You listened to the sounds of clinking pots and scrambling movements as he maneuvered around your shared home. The aroma of garlic and broth filled the air, a mixture that made your stomach grumble with unexpected hunger. You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, trying to ease the fatigue that weighed down your limbs.

Minutes passed, and soon enough, Carlos returned holding a steaming bowl of soup and a small cup of herbal tea. He carefully placed the bowl on the sofa’s armrest before handing you the cup.

“Here, drink this first. It should help your throat,” he said, watching you as you took a cautious sip. The warmth spread through your chest, soothing the discomfort. “How’s that?”

“Better, actually. You always know how to pick the right remedies,” you replied, sipping carefully as you looked into his eyes, feeling adequately grateful.

He smiled, pleased, and took a seat beside you, lifting the bowl of soup to your lips. “Now let’s get some nourishment into you. Open up.”

You let out a laugh at his silliness. “You sound like a parent feeding a child.”

“Well, someone has to make sure you eat,” he rebutted playfully, taking a spoonful for himself and nudging it closer to you. “Besides, I happen to be an excellent caregiver. Ask the team.”

You laughed but complied, allowing him to feed you. Each small bite of soup made your stomach feel more alive. “You really do care too much, you know that?”

Carlos’s eyes softened, a tender look sweeping across his face. “Caring for you is the easiest thing in the world. Look at you; you’re adorable, even when you’re sick. I can’t help but want to take care of you.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and the drowsiness seemed to fade away momentarily. “You’re the adorable one, you know.”

“Is this a competition now?” he teased, feeding you another spoonful. “Because I’m winning.”

As the soup slowly diminished, laughter filled the space between you two, easing the sickly clouds in your head. The warmth in your chest was now anchored by his company, and just being near him felt like a balm to your aching body.

After the last remnants of soup were consumed, you laid back against the couch, your eyelids drooping. “Thanks, Carlos. I really needed this.”

“Anytime, mi amor,” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Now let’s get you tucked in. You need your rest.”

“What about you? Aren’t you tired after all that?” you asked, watching him as he arranged pillows behind your head.

“I’ll be just fine,” he replied lightly, climbing onto the couch beside you. “As long as I’m with you, I’m always energized.”

Curled up under the blanket, you nestled your head against his shoulder, allowing the heaviness of sleep to pull you down into its comforting grip.

Carlos’s warmth enveloped you, and as his fingers lightly traced the back of your hand, you felt safe and cared for, even in your vulnerable state.

“Get some rest, and I’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispered, voice low and soothing, lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

In that moment, everything felt right.

And as you drifted away, you knew, without a doubt, that you were exactly where you were meant to be—with Carlos, the man who would take care of you, on and off the track. . . .

As you pull into the driveway of Carlos’ childhood home, your palms are a mixture of sweaty nervousness and anticipation. Carlos glances at you, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, and you can see the warmth in his eyes, reassuring you. “Are you ready?” he asks, shifting the gear into park.

You take a deep breath, glancing out at the modest brick house. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply, forcing a smile that barely conceals your anxiety. You’ve heard Carlos talk about his family countless times, but stepping into their world feels monumental.

Carlos nods, eyes shining with a curious blend of pride and fear. “Just be yourself,” he says, his voice steady. “They’re going to love you.”

You step out of the car, allowing the early evening sun to bathe you in warm light. As you walk towards the front door, the sound of barking draws your attention. A small, scruffy dog bolts to the edge of the yard, tail wagging furiously. “That must be Piñón,” Carlos chuckles, grinning. “Just wait until you meet him.”

You hunch down instinctively, and soon enough, Piñón leaps into your arms, showering your face with slobbery kisses. Carlos chuckles at the spectacle. “He likes you already!”

Laughter bubbles up from your chest, lightening the heavy atmosphere in your stomach. “I think I’ll keep him,” you tease, giving Piñón a belly rub as he squirms with delight.

Before Carlos can respond, the front door swings open with a creak, revealing an older man with a broad smile and deep-set eyes—Carlos Sr. “What’s this?” he booms, taking in the scene with amusement. “Are we adopting a new family member?”

You straighten up, releasing Piñón, who trots eagerly toward his owner. “Um, I’m actually here to meet the rest of the family,” you say, a hint of nervous laughter escaping you. “I’m—”

“Whispering sweet nothings to my dog, I see!” Carlos Sr. interrupts, wrapping you in a warmth-filled embrace before you can finish your sentence. “Welcome! I’m Carlos Sr. You must be the enchanting one my son has been raving about!”

“Dad!” Carlos playfully scolds, his cheeks flushing a subtle red as you smile.

You look between father and son, feeling the love radiate from both. “It’s lovely to meet you, sir,” you say, awkward but earnest.

“Come inside! Come inside!” Carlos Sr. gestures, leading you both into the cozy home decorated with family portraits. The living room is filled with the scent of something delicious simmering in the kitchen.

“Blanca!” Carlos Sr. calls out, and a moment later, a bubbly young woman appears, her hair cascading in curls as she flashes a wide smile. “Is that you, Carlos? And who’s this?”

You feel Carlos’ hand slip into yours as he beams proudly. “Blanca, this is—”

“Your girlfriend! I’ve heard so much about you!” she interrupts, wrapping you in her embrace before you can respond. “Welcome to the family!”

“Thank you,” you manage, caught between shock and delight.

“Where’s Mom?” Carlos Sr. asks, glancing toward the kitchen. “She should be here to meet the new addition!”

Just then, Reyes Vázquez de Castro strides into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her presence immediate and commanding. “Carlos! You’re here!” she exclaims, her eyes sparkling as she moves past Carlos to envelop you in a warm hug. It feels as if she’s been waiting for this moment forever.

“Wow, I feel like I’ve been hugged by a whirlwind,” you laugh, stepping back a little. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Vázquez de Castro.”

“Just call me Reyes!” she replies, her eyes twinkling. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally meet you! I’ve heard all about you.”

“Only the wonderful stuff, I hope!” you joke, glancing at Carlos who is attempting to hide his amusement.

“Absolutely. Only the best,” Reyes laughs, giving Carlos a mock glare. “Now, come help me in the kitchen. Dinner will be ready soon, and I could use a second pair of hands.”

“Sure! What do you need?” Carlos replies, slipping away to help his mother.

You hang back, feeling the warmth of the family’s connection wash over you. Blanca sidles up next to you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, how did you and Carlos meet?”

You share the story of the serendipitous meeting at the local coffee shop, how an accidental order mix-up sparked a series of events that led to your blossoming romance. Blanca giggles at the details. “It sounds like a movie! I can’t wait to see him in action when he tells it to all of us at dinner.”

Soon, the living room is filled with the aroma of a deliciously simmering stew, and the family gathers around the dining table. You sit beside Carlos, who reaches for your hand beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze as Reyes serves up generous portions of food.

The conversation flows easily, stories of Carlos’ childhood, Blanca’s mischievous antics, and heartfelt anecdotes from Carlos Sr. The laughter bounces off the walls, wrapping you up in the kind of warmth you’d always imagined family dinners would emit.

“Tell us something about yourself,” Carlos’ mom prompts, her approach direct, yet kind.

You look around, feeling suddenly vulnerable, but a swell of confidence rushes through you. “Well, I grew up in a small town too, with a family that loves to laugh over dinner. My parents would host big gatherings; it was chaotic but full of love.”

Carlos’ eyes sparkle with delight as he listens, absorbing every word. “I can see where you get your warmth from,” he adds, and the affection in his tone makes your heart swell.

After dinner, Piñón curls by your feet, and the family sits around the coffee table indulging in dessert—homemade flan. “This is amazing, Reyes!” you compliment, taking another bite.

“Gracias! I’m glad you like it,” she beams.

“Mom taught me everything I know,” Carlos adds, leaning back with confidence.

“Except how to clean up messes,” Blanca chimes in, laughter spilling around the table.

After sharing more smiles, Carlos leans closer. “So, what do you think?” he whispers.

You glance around the room, Your heart brimming with warmth and belonging. “I think I’m never leaving,” you reply, grinning. “You all make it feel like home.”

The evening winds down, and you help clean up amid playful banter. Carlos Sr. pauses at the sink, looking at you with sincerity that pins you in place. “You know, Carlos has been different since he met you. In a good way,” he says, and you can feel the weight of their approval in those words.

Your heart swelled with gratitude. “Thank you, Carlos Sr. That really means a lot to me,” you said softly, feeling the genuine affection radiating from the family.

He nodded, his smile deepening. “Just making sure you know—you’re not just a date. You’re becoming part of this family.”

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself holding Carlos’ hand tightly, feeling grateful for this family that had so warmly embraced you.

In that moment, with laughter and love resonating in the air, it dawns on you—you’re not just here as Carlos’ date; you’re becoming part of something special.

"Okay, enough mushiness! Who's ready for some card games?" Blanca interrupted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I hope you’re aware that I’m the reigning champion and will defend my title fiercely!”

"Only because you cheat," Carlos teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Somehow, I always end up providing her with winning cards.”

You laughed, feeling that beautiful tension between them — a comfortable bond born from years of sibling rivalry and an unspoken love that filled the air.

As the evening wound down and the games began, you settled into the rhythms of the Vázquez de Castro household, needing no script to feel at home among them.

Hours melted away in bursts of laughter and competitive groans as you all settled around the dining table. Piñón sprawled at your feet, his tail thumping rhythmically against the floor whenever he caught your eye.

“Okay, okay. Last hand of the night!” Blanca declared, shuffling cards with a practiced flair as you prepared for what you hoped was a winning hand. Carlos leaned close, his breath warm against your ear, making you shiver in a pleasant way.

"You're going to win, right? Because I’m going to blame the loss on you if I don't.” He winked, his teasing masking a deeper affection that made you blush.

You shot him a challenging look. “Well, if you lose, you have to dance with me later.”

“Only if you promise to lead,” he shot back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the playful banter between you two.

As the game progressed, the laughter only intensified, but it inevitably came to an end. With a dramatic flourish, Blanca tossed her cards on the table, victorious as expected. “Ha! And that’s how it’s done!” she exclaimed, holding up her winning hand.

“Fine, fine—the reigning champion takes her victory lap,” Carlos said sarcastically, rolling his eyes dramatically, which only made you laugh harder.

“Let’s do the dance now! I think that’s only fair!” Blanca prodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Carlos groaned, “I can't believe this is happening. You know, I can’t dance to save my life?”

“Oh, come on! Don’t let your reputation be tarnished! Besides, if you can’t dance, no one will know because I’ll be too busy saving my own ass over here,” you replied, your cheeky comeback earning you a sound laugh from Blanca.

The music began to play softly, and Carlos extended a hand to yours. “Alright, lead the way, my esteemed dancer,” he said, mock bowing as you both made your way to the living room.

With a playful shove, you took charge, attempting to lead him through a modified waltz. Each spin and turn brought stifled laughter as Carlos fumbled, stepping on your toes. "This isn’t a classical ball! You’re allowed to relax a little," you said, pulling him gently.

"Let it be known that I’m a terrible dancer," he said, and in that moment, your worlds collided, the laughter easing into a beautiful closeness.

When the last note faded, you both stood there, gazing at each other for just a heartbeat longer than necessary. You could feel the warmth of his hands lingering on your waist, his eyes searching yours for something you barely understood.

"Wow, I wouldn’t trade this night for anything," Carlos said softly, his tone shifting into something sincere and serious that drew you in.

“Me neither,” you whispered back.

As the night drew to a close, you settled with Carlos on the couch, blanket draped around your shoulders, and Piñón curled at your feet, snoring softly. The moments spent with them—filled with easy laughter and unexpected tenderness—made your heart ache with gratitude.

“I’m glad we stayed the night,” you said, looking up at Carlos, who was now reclining against the couch, his fingers brushing yours. “Being here really feels like home.”

Carlos squeezed your hand gently. “You’re not just a guest here. You really are part of this family already.” His voice was steady, and in that moment, you could see how he felt—how the walls you both wore were starting to dissolve, making way for something deeper.

The comfort of that sentiment wrapped around you like a warm embrace, yet the weight of those words lingered in the air. You leaned into Carlos, resting your head on his shoulder, and he moved closer, intertwining your fingers.

All of a sudden, you were no longer just his fake girlfriend or a visitor but someone who belonged—wrapped in the embrace of his family.

With laughter and love resonating through the home, you realized you were part of something special, and as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were right where you were meant to be. . . .

[fanboyoff1]

F1 Incorrect Quotes

Lando: Help! I’m drowning!

George: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water!

Lando: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

*Max is substitute teaching*

Student: What did you say?

Max: I said, whoever threw that paper, your mom’s a hoe!

George: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, Fernando is walking in this room.

Lewis: *wheeze*

Charles: Is there a word that’s a mix between angry and sad?

Oscar: Desolated, malcontent, disgruntled, resentful-

Lando: Smad.

Charles: Y-you believe me?

Alex: Charles, you are the last good person on this earth. I’d believe you if you said cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

Charles: Why are you like this??

Oscar: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

[maddsxfall]

george was resembled perfectly. even the hand movements. 😭😭

party rockers

[wintergreenoreo]

F1 grid as Greek Gods 🌟

Max - Ares: God of war and courage

Checo - Leto: Goddess of motherhood, childbirth, and modesty

Charles - Aphrodite: Goddess of love, beauty, and fertility

Carlos - Hephaestus: God of fire, blacksmithing, and the forge

Lewis - Zeus: King of the gods and god of thunder and lightning

George - Athena: Goddess of strategy and wisdom

Lando - Apollo: God of light, youth, healing and plagues

Oscar - Aeolus: God of the winds

Pierre - Eros: God of love and procreation

Esteban - Antheros: God of requited love and the avenger of the unrequited

Fernando - Hades: King of the dead and god of the underworld

Lance - Persephone: Goddess of agriculture and vegetation

Alex - Artemis: Goddess of the hunt, moon, and wild animals

Franco - Dionysus: God of wine, pleasure, and festivity

Valtteri - Poseidon: God of the sea and earthquakes

Zhou - Iris: Goddess of the clouds and rainbows

Nico - Atlas: God of strength and endurance

Kevin - Eris: Goddess of discord

Yuki - Hestia: Goddess of the hearth, food preparation, and baking

Liam - Melinoe: Goddess of nightmares

[yesterdayiwrote]

The FIA chooses which drivers are in the press conferences, so they picked George intentionally to have him be questioned about the GPDA letter, and surely in the knowledge they would get criticised... but then have allegedly edited some of his criticisms out of the F1TV video of it??

[russellius]

2024 LAS VEGAS GP : Wednesday | © Sam Bloxham