#I did finish this so that’s a win over the last two races. anyway

[deadleafpard]

howdy

[lilghostiequinni]

Remember When

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Piastri!female oc (Eliza;Lizi;Liz) x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, little Angst, Pregnancy talk, Indications of smut

Summary: She's older than her brother. She doesn't drive for the sport, but she does follow the sport, and has been even before her brother's appearance with McLaren, who she's been supporting before her brother joined. She has friends on the grid, but one thing she does that isn't conventional or has anything to do with her everyday life is... collecting scale-model racing helmets from her favorite teams and drivers. She also designs helmets and redesigns already-worn helmets. Even though this has nothing to do with her job and lifestyle. But what happens when she predicts a maiden win in Maimi after her brother invites her to the 2024 Maimi Grand Prix?

Requested: NO / yes

"Liz, I know you are hours away, but can you come to Maimi?" Oscar asks his older sister over the phone after he lands in Maimi for the 2024 Maimi Grand Prix.

"I wouldn't be able to get there until late Friday, early Saturday. Maybe even midday on Saturday," Eliza told her brother as she walked around her classroom on the other side of the phone.

Oscar wanted his sister to come because the first time he got a pole position, she called, and the first time Max won a Grand Prix and the first world championship, she called before the second race even happened.

He's hoping her coming will bring luck to McLaren.

Also, he knows that his sister is a fan of Lando's and has never met him, even though she's been to several Grand Prix since 2019, Lando's rookie year.

Though most of the time she was either there with Red Bull or on her own in the stands, which has been the case for the two races she had attended so far, Saudi Arabia and Australia.

"Please, I'll see if Max will let you use his plane. Please, Lizi, I want you here," Oscar begged as he ran his fingers through his hair; he had talked to Zak, and everything was ready; her birthday was on Quali day, Saturday, and he had worked months on what he wanted to get her and a surprise, which involved her hobby of designing and collecting helmets and her first meeting with Lando Norris.

Granted, the driver had no idea that he was a part of the surprise, yet anyway, at least.

Oscar just needed his sister to agree to come to Maimi from New York to get her to travel almost the 1,300 miles between the two distances.

"Please, I want you here. That way, I can give you your present from everyone on time and not on Monday when I would've come," Oscar pulled the 'It's your birthday card.' He knew it was one way to get his sister to fold, but he played it with the 'I want you here' card in his, 'but I'm your little brother voice.' All of these are strategies that he has learned will make his sister fold and agree.

So, maybe his hope to not use a little persuasion didn't go as planned, but he had seen no other way.

"You'll get full VIP Paddock passes," Oscar finishes off; yeah, there was no way his sister would say no.

"Fine, I'll talk to my boss. I was going to come to Italy and Monaco, you know that, right?" Liz says to her brother as she finally caves.

"Yeah, but do they fall on your birthday or even close to your birthday?" Oscar questions his sister.

"No," there's a moment of pause on the line. "Hey, Osc, I have to go. duty calls. I'll see you Saturday."

"See you then," then the phone is hung up.

Oscar does a little dance and pumps his fists as he turns to the door and sees an amused Lando.

"What are you doing?"

"Celebrating."

"Why?" Lando looks at his teammate in confusion.

"My older sister is coming, and the last time she was actually in the Paddock was last year," Oscar says.

Oscar did ask Max to get his sister from the entrance and give her her pass to get in as he was called over by Zak just ten minutes before she was set to arrive at the race.

Max was happy to do it because the older Piastri was one of his best friends, probably his best friend outside the grid entirely.

Max stood near the entrance as he texted the woman, who quickly told him she was waiting at the entrance when he looked over and saw her.

He walked over to her and swiped the pass, allowing her through before giving her the pass, "So, I know we usually say no presents for the other's birthday, but you got me one last year, so I'm giving you won this year."

Liz looked at the Dutchman and shook her head as she followed him to Red Bull after quickly texting her brother, letting him know that she was there, and making a quick stop in Red Bull to get the present from Max.

"Here," Max handed her a box, which she took and set on the table. "Happy Birthday."

Eliza looked at the taller man with a bored look as she went to pull the top of the box off, and Sergio came over.

"Hello," Checo said as Liz waved and continued to open the box.

Eliza looked in and saw it was the scale model of a helmet she had designed and had only given the sketch of the helmet to Max, she looked to her friend with wide eyes, and he motioned for her to keep going.

She did, finding not one but three more scale model helmets she designed and gave Max, and also two of his scale model helmets she didn't have.

She again looked to Max and threw her arms around him with tears in her eyes.

Sergio smiled at the scene, "When you're done, I also have something for you."

Liz let go of Max and looked to Sergio, a little skeptical, "You didn't have to get me anything. I hardly let Max get me anything."

It wasn't that she didn't like the Mexican, Sergio was one of her favorites, just that she rarely liked getting presents, usually only from her close family, as they wouldn't let her say no.

She doesn't like presents because they're surprises, and in the last 10 years of her life, she has developed a dislike for surprises after the Year 9 incident, which resulted in her move to America.

"I know, but I heard you talking to Max about books you wanted a few weeks ago in Australia, then I heard Max say it was your birthday today, so I got you some," Sergio, ever the sweetest at least when not competing.

Eliza smiled at the man as he as well turned and grabbed a box, he put it next to the one Max gave, and she opened it to see the books she had only been raving about for the last three months, at least.

She hugged Sergio and told him thank you before Max once again drew her attention back to him.

"I may have also gotten you another present, but I gave it to your brother to give to you because he asked to see it, and then before he gave it back, I was told to come get you from the gates," Max says as Sergio is beckoned away.

Liz nodded at the statement that was made and saw someone trying to get Max's attention from behind him, "You are wanted. I'll see you later, and I'll talk to Osc about that other present you wanted to give me."

It's Max's turn to look behind him then nod, giving his best friend one final hug before turning and going to the man that was beckoning him over as Eliza walked out of Red Bull with her two boxes.

She made her way through the paddocks and to McLaren, where she saw her brother waiting for her just outside of the paddock.

Oscar grabbed the boxes from his sister as he led her through the paddock to his driver's room to set her boxes down, then led her to another room in the back of the paddock where she saw Zak Brown and Lando Norris.

Liz looked at her brother, highly confused as to why she was there because, to her, what was being discussed might be important, and she didn't want to interrupt.

"It's okay, Zak was helping me and..." Oscar was interrupted by the McLaren principal, "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

"Thank you, then," Liz says with a small smile to the man.

"Lando is here because I needed a few things from him for your present and because I noticed that you have never met him, despite having been to many races since his rookie year and never met him," Oscar says, walking over to the table in the room.

Liz waves at Lando and follows her brother.

"This is from Mom and Dad, just Mom, just Dad, our sisters, Grandma, and me," Oscar says, pointing to each of the boxes as he says so.

Liz nods, "Okay, Max said he had another present, but you stole it before I got here and didn't get it back before you sent him to get me."

"Yes, that's true, but I wanted to show it to Zak and Lando." Oscar goes over to the other side of the table and grabs the smaller box that he hadn't pointed to, well, one of them.

Oscar hands it to his sister, and she opens it, finding another scale model helmet, one she designed for the current race, the Maimi Grand Prix 2024.

"But I only gave the design to him a few days ago," Liz looked at her brother, puzzled.

"Yeah, but I had access to your tablet weeks ago when you told me it was finished," Oscar points out.

Oscar took the box from her and shoved another into her hands. He did this until she got to the present from him.

Opened it to find books she wanted, this pair of sneakers she had told her brother about ONCE but wanted for several weeks, and, of course, scale model helmets she had been missing from his helmets and just one from Lando's, but also a few she designed for her brother.

Lando had stood to the side, and did nothing until Oscar pointed to the box next to him, which Lando picked up and gave to Liz as Oscar took his gift from in front of her.

Liz smiled in thanks to Lando as she took it from him.

"I told Lando you collected helmets and that he was one of the few drivers you collected all of them from. I told him which ones you didn't and..." Oscar said as his sister opened the box to see the few she was missing.

"Thank you," Liz said, looking to Brit, who nodded at her thanks. "My students just love looking at them, and I love using them as scale models."

Zak then stepped forward and pushed the last two boxes across the table, "This is from McLaren with the help of your brother."

She opened the boxes to find they were also helmets she had designed for the Maimi Grand Prix, just for Lando and Oscar.

"Your brother had seen them, finished when he saw Max's, and said he wanted the scale models made and the normal helmets, not for a race, just to have," Zak told her.

There was a knock on the door, and both Zak and Lando were beckoned out. Oscar was told he would be soon, too, but he told them to give him a couple minutes, and he would be out.

"I also got a few of the Lando helmets you design made, but I may have shipped them to your apartment," Oscar told her as he pulled Liz into a hug.

"Thank you," She whispered into his ear as he held her close.

"You're welcome."

The two pulled away before Oscar started to talk again, "So, who's going to win, you think?"

Liz laughs and rolls her eyes, knowing it was coming since he called her, "Not you and not Max. Max is going to get second."

Liz hands over a piece of paper to her brother with her predictions. Oscar looks at it and shakes his head, "Of course, you think it's going to be his maiden win."

Liz chuckles again at her brother as the two make their way out of the room.

Liz watched as her brother fell through the rows of cars after the safety car was pulled out onto the track. She also watched as Lando Norris took the lead over Max Verstappen and was gaining a substantial gap between the two.

She watched as Lando won his first Grand Prix and took place in the 1st place spot, with Max in 2nd and Charles in 3rd.

She watched as he ran to his team and jumped into the crowd of orange papaya with the biggest smile on his face.

She watched as he got blasted in the face with champagne from the other two drivers and his engineer.

She watched as her predictions about the race came true.

She watched as Max came over to her and asked her to join the partying tonight.

She watched as Lando got plastered as she herself got drunk to.

She watched the flashbacks of the night before coming back as she woke to the pressure of an arm across her middle.

She looked in the direction it came, and she saw Lando Norris next to her in the same state of dress, nothing but the blanket on the bed.

Not knowing how to respond to whatever happened that she only knows bits and pieces too, she carefully got up from the bed, careful not to wake the new race winner.

Only to try and stand and fall to the ground, effectively startling the Brit awake.

"Are you okay?" Lando asks as he looks over the side of the bed to her.

".... No. I need help. Please," There were a few moments of silence before her response.

"Were you trying to leave?" Lando asks as he gets up and then goes to pick her up.

"No, I was trying to go to the bathroom, then leave," Liz tells him as she's picked up, and Lando brings her to the bathroom.

Lando sets her down and then leaves the bathroom to give her privacy. No, he doesn't go far, but he does leave the room.

After she was done and mostly regained her balance, Liz left the bathroom and went searching for her clothes, which were still scattered, as Lando walked back into the bedroom area of his suite.

"Here, you can use this, as your dress is here and partially ripped. Sorry," The sorry was clearly an afterthought as Lando handed her both a shirt and her dress from the night before.

Liz nodded in thanks, "I should go before my brother starts looking for me, and I have to be on a flight in... 4 hours."

Lando just nodded at what she said, "Can I get your number from what I can remember of last night, you're pretty cool."

Liz blushes as she nods and grabs her phone from the bedside table, giving it to the McLaren driver, who texted himself to get her number on his phone.

It had been months since Maimi, and she had talked to Lando plenty of times over those months, often meeting when he flew over to New York in secret.

But now school was out, and there was no need for her to stay in New York all the time. She stayed with her parents for a few weeks before going to Monaco during one of the breaks between races, staying with Lando.

Lando was currently out of his apartment, having left earlier to do some errands or something, but Liz was still in the apartment, having woken up after Lando left.

She was currently on the phone with one of her friends in America, and she was telling her how she hadn't been feeling the greatest and everything hurt.

"You sound pregnant," was the blunt reply from her friend.

"No, that's not possible. I haven't slept with anyone in months," Liz denies.

"You're telling me that you are staying with a Formula One driver, one you have previously slept with, and you are not sleeping with him now," Her friend, Clara, deadpans on the other end.

"Well, he's kind of my boyfriend, and we agreed that we should take things at a relatively normal pace, so no, I am not," Liz responds.

"Well, how long ago was Maimi?"

"Five, almost six months ago."

"Well, I can't tell you what to do, but you should at least check," Her friend says before continuing, " How long ago was your last period?"

Liz looks down before answering, "Right before Maimi. I thought it was stress, you know with the end of the year for both the college and high school I teach at, then the moving around the globe a lot in the last few weeks."

"It's okay, I can stay on the line as you get through this, I helped you pack. Remember, what do I always do?"

"The usually unnecessary pregnancy test."

"Yes, now go grab it, take it, and keep talking to me."

Liz did just that. She waited for what felt like forever, an eternity that wasn't going to stop. Just kept going and going. Time slowed for her as she waited for this little stick to determine the rest of her life.

When the timer finally rang, she turned both tests over and showed the camera, which had Clara's face, as they turned to FaceTime when the timer started.

"Babes...."

Liz heard the tone of voice and started to cry as she turned them over to see they were both positive.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this; I don't know if this is what he wants. Clara, I don't know what to do," Liz says as she fully starts to cry.

"You should call your mom, but I will always be here for you. I'll move in with you if I have to; I'll move all the way over to Monaco. I don't care. I will be there for you," Clara states as she looks on at her crying best friend nothing she can do with actions as she watches from the screen of her phone across an ocean in America.

Liz nods and quickly says goodbye before calling her mom, who answers relatively fast for the time difference.

Liz is just bawling when her mom answers the phone, making her mother worry for her eldest child.

"Mommy, I don't know what to do."

Then Liz explains and comes clean about everything that's happened since Maimi and her mom just listened.

"Tell him, honey, tell him, then go from there. That's the only thing that can solve this," Her mom says.

She's on the phone with her mom until Liz hears the door of the apartment.

They say goodbye, and Liz stands and wipes the tears that were barely remaining on her face, having stopped crying midway through her rant.

She wipes her tears and grabs the two sticks, going to Lando, who is smiling as she walks out of the bathroom to him in the living room.

Lando turns at the noise of the door opening and smiles even wider before it falls as he sees the remnants of tears on her face.

"What's wrong?" Lando walks over to his girlfriend as she's once again reduced to tears.

Lando brings her into a hug as she buries her face in Lando's shirt.

"Hey, you have to tell me what's wrong I can't make it better until you tell me what's wrong," Lando says as he kisses her forehead before he pulls her away to look at her face.

She calms a little and asks, "Remember Maimi and what happened after your win?"

Lando nods, rather confused as to why she's bringing up that night, almost six months later.

Liz pulls the tests from her back pocket and hands them to Lando, who looks at them and takes a moment to realize what they mean.

"I am nowhere near ready for children..."

Liz tries to hold back tears as Lando says that, and she starts nodding, thinking he's going to reject her.

"... But if this is what you want, if you want the baby, I will be there, be here, right by your side, every step of the way. I'm not going to leave."

Liz almost doesn't hear what he says but takes a moment and almost breaks down again.

"I'm not ready either, but I want them. I can't get rid of them, not when they didn't do anything wrong," Liz says. Lando nods and brings her back into his arms, holding her tighter than before and whispering sweet nothings into Liz's ear and occasionally kissing her temple.

A/N: A few hours later than I wanted, but it's also longer than I expected. I could do a part 2 if you guys wanted. I actually really liked the way this one went.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know, so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striker through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[formula-nyoom]

Be Proud of Yourself | GR63

Pairing: Platonic!George Russell x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: @cinnvmonrolls @scenesofobx and @annabellelee wanted a sequel to I'm Proud of You where reader finally outqualifies George and wins a race.

A/N: Works picking back up for me so fics may take some time for them to come out. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Good job (Y/N)! We’ve made it to Q3.”

 “Whew! Didn’t think I’d make it with that last lap. Glad to hear I did.” You said to your race engineer as you pulled into the pitlane. Engineers surrounded your car as they pulled it into the garage and placed a screen in front of you to go over data. To your right, you saw them do the same with George’s car. The two of you made eye contact and you gave George a thumbs up. He put his own thumb up, signaling to you that he also made it through to Q3. You only nodded your head.

While you were happy for the team that both Mercedes made it into Q3, a familiar, small pit started to form in your stomach. While most drivers that end up in Q3 shoot for pole, you didn’t care what position you ended up in, only as long as it was in front of George. It wasn’t a malicious goal. You just wanted to outqualify your teammate once and hopefully that would lead to people no longer ragging on you for all the times you placed behind George. But being honest with yourself, you knew they wouldn’t really stop. It would probably just make you feel better and hopefully give you a confidence boost going into the race on Sunday. 

The greenlight was given for Q3 to start and you and George were sent out for qualifying. Despite getting impeded on one of your qualifying laps, by the end of the session you felt like you had good pace to make the top 5. Nowhere near pole, but you felt you had good pace as you crossed the finish line at the end of qualifying.

“Alright, tell me where I am.” You said to your race engineer as you did your cool down lap before pulling into parc ferme.

 “You are P3.” Your race engineer told you. P3. That’s the highest you’ve ever qualified this season.

“Wow! I’m proud of that. And George is P2?”

 “No. George is P6.” Your race engineer said. You paused, your brain not really processing what was just said to you.

“What?”

 “You are P3. George is P6.”

“I outqualifed George?” The shock in your voice was evident. Realistically you should have tried to hide it, but you didn’t care. You had finally out-qualified your teammate

 “That you did. Good job (Y/N).”

For the first time, instead of parking your car in the regular parc ferme lane, you rolled your car till it stopped in front of the P3 placard, right next to Max’s car that was parked in the P1 spot. You took your time to get out of the car before running over to greet your team at the barriers. They gave you high fives and pats to the shoulder. While it wasn’t pole, P3 was still something to celebrate. 

 “Glad to see you up here, rookie!” Max said, giving your shoulder a pat. 

“Didn’t expect to be up here. It’s going to be difficult tomorrow for me to try and overtake you.” You told him. Max laughed.

 “Well I definitely won’t make it easy.” He said.

After post qualifying interviews, George was there to meet you as the two of you headed back to the Mercedes garage for debrief.

“Good job mate! Second row!” George said as he patted your shoulder “Wish I could have made it a Mercedes lock out.”

 “I expected you to end up on the front row. What happened?”

“My tires locked up on the second to last turn. Cost me what could have been pole.” George said. 

The adrenaline from qualifying had started to wear off and realization set in on where you placed. P3. 2 spots away from pole. 2 spots away from 1st place.

Your smile dropped and you turned to George.

“What am I supposed to do tomorrow George?” You asked him. “The team is going to expect me to try and win the race. I don’t know if I can do that.”

 “What makes you think that?” George asked.

“Because that’s what everyone else thinks.” You said as doubt started to creep in. You could practically see the media comments that would be online by the end of the night: predictions that George will overtake you by the end of the first lap, or you’ll bin it in the first turn, ruining Mercedes chances of a race win. 

 “Not everyone thinks that. The team doesn’t think that and neither do I.” George said, trying to make you feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Really? Because I haven’t been able to out pace you at all this whole season! I’ve always qualified and placed behind you at every race, including the sprints. The only reason I was able to outqualify you today was because of an issue with your car. If your tires didn’t lock up, you would have outqualified me again and continue to prove to everyone that Mercedes made a mistake with signing me!” You exclaimed. While you didn’t seem to be crying from your exclamation, your face had turned red and you were breathing heavily. George could tell that this was something you had been keeping to yourself for a long time.

 “Hey, look at me.” George lightly cupped your face so that you would make eye contact with him. 

 “Mercedes did not make a mistake in signing you. You deserve to be here. Who cares if you’ve finished behind me? You’ve consistently scored points for Mercedes for a majority of the season and did so as a rookie. You’ve done better than most rookies when they first join Formula 1. Better than I did my rookie season.” George told you.

 “But the media-”

“Screw the media. They say shit like that all the time just to stir up drama. They only go off of what they’re seeing. If they knew how much you’ve been matching me in pace during our sim runs and during practice sessions, they wouldn’t be saying stuff like that.” George told you. He pulled you into a side hug and started to walk both of you to the Mercedes garage.

“Look, we both know that teammates are supposed to be each other’s biggest rivals, and I completely understand your want to outqualify and out place me at every race. But I don’t want that to cause you to doubt yourself and I’d hate to be the reason that causes you so much distress.” He said. You sighed.

 “It’s not you. It’s the expectations.”

“Put the expectations aside for now. Trust me, it won’t do you any good. You’ll beat me at some point, through your own merit and pace. I know you will.” George said. 

And that made you feel a bit better. 

~~~

The morning of the race, you were wrought with nerves. After the team debrief last night, it was emphasized that you had a good chance of winning the race if everything went well. The expectations were hard to shake. Even with how much you tried to push them to the side like George had advised.

George and you arrived at the track at the same time. While walking to Mercedes’ hospitality, George was giving you all the best advice he could think of for your starting position. 

“Max and Lando will be too focused on trying to get ahead of each other in the first turn. That will open the outside up for you to try and swoop in and take the lead. That’s how I was able to do it when I started P3 with them in P1 and P2.”

 “But what if one of them tries to go to the outside to overtake the other?” You asked.

“Then you wait and bide your time. If you can’t overtake them on the first lap, you’ll have a chance of overtaking them later. But be careful if you have to go 1-to-1 against Lando. We don’t want a repeat of Austria.” “Well maybe a repeat of Austria is what we need for me to get my first win.”

The Drivers Parade was always the calm before the storm. You always enjoyed staring out into the crowd and waving to fans. Usually you’d stand next to Logan or George during the parade and you and Logan would always make a game out of who could spot the most of your guys' drivers numbers in the crowd. But today your game was interrupted by you having to be one of the drivers interviewed during the parade.

“So (Y/N), you’re starting in P3 today. Do you think you have a chance at a win today?” The interviewer asked. 

 “I really hope so. Me and the team have been going over all the possible strategies that could guarantee me a win but there’s also the matter of getting up to P1. George and I joked earlier that a repeat of Austria would be ideal but I think I have a good chance at fighting for a win today.” You said. The interviewer smiled.

 “Now I’m sure you’re aware of this, but if you win today, you’ll be the first woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix. How do you feel about that?”

 Oh. The expectations just became bigger.

Despite the nerves, you were able to muster a smile to answer the question.

“It would be a historic thing and something that I’ve been striving to do throughout this whole season. I know it won’t be an easy thing to achieve but if I can pull it off, it would make this race even better.”

You were thankful that your Mercedes PR training allowed you to answer the question in good faith. Because until then, you had been so focused on the possibility of a win that you hadn’t realized until now what that win could mean. And now you felt even more pressure.

You weren’t even starting on pole and yet you were nervous beyond belief. Sure it was because of a multitude of reasons: You were starting in front of George for the first time, you were in a position to give Mercedes a win, and if you did win, you’d be making history. 

It would be stupid for anyone to tell you that there was “no pressure”, to you there was so much pressure. And it would be even worse if you made a mistake that would cost you and Mercedes the race. The media would have a field day. 

George could sense that you were spiraling again as he watched you struggle to put your gloves on. He walked over and held out his hand for you to hand them to him, which you did and you let George help you with your gloves.

“You’re going to do great.” George told you once your gloves were on. 

 You could only give him a nod. 

You pulled your car into the P3 spot behind Max’s RedBull and nervously waited for the lights to go out. Taking your breath, you tried to center yourself.

 ‘You’re going to do great. Put the expectations aside for now. You. Can. Win. This.’

It was better for you to focus on the now. Worrying about the outcome would affect your race. 

*Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink*

Foot to the floor, you slammed on the throttle and immediately went for the outside line. But going to the outside didn’t work like George had said it would. Max and Lando were indeed trying to get past each other, like George had said, but Max needed to pull away from Lando because they were getting too close to each other, which caused you to get pushed off the track. Not enough to cause damage, but you rejoined the track in P8.

 “Max pushed me off the track!” You exclaimed to your race engineer, clearly not happy about losing your P3 position. Oh yea. And you were 2 spots behind George now.

 “It’s been noted. Keep a cool head. It’s only the first lap, we can still win this race.” Your race engineer said. You let out a frustrated huff and tried to focus on getting back into the top 3. 

Building up speed you were able to overtake and get into P7, but that put you right behind George. In the team briefing before the race, it was said that you were the priority with your P3 placement, but that was before the start of the race. Now you were worried that since George was ahead of you, he would be the priority.

“Are me and George allowed to fight?” You asked your engineer, hoping they would say yes. 

 “You and George seem to be matching pace so you are allowed to fight as long as you keep it clean.”

“Got it.” You said, a smile creeping on your face. 

You quickly increased your speed, getting into George’s DRS zone. You were determined to get past your teammate. You weren’t going to end this race behind George again.

0.500s, 0.400s, 0.300s. You were gaining on George, just waiting for the right moment for an overtake. But he wasn’t making it easy for you. No, George was defending, making you work for this overtake, making you prove that you can get past him. 

 “The two Mercedes are very close to one another! They have been given permission to fight! (L/N) has consistently been outplaced by Russel throughout this season, but she seems determined to get by her teammate! Down the straight they go, (L/N) has DRS! She dives to the inside and GETS PAST RUSSEL IN TURN 8! (Y/N) (L/N) TAKES 6TH PLACE FROM HER TEAMMATE!”

You didn’t hesitate from pulling away from George as soon as you got past him. You let out a little exclamation of celebration to yourself for getting past but there were still more overtakes to do. Through pitstops of other drivers, you were able to move up to P4 and eventually found yourself within DRS range of Lando, who had dropped to P3. You were gaining momentum and just as you were preparing to go into Sector 1 to attempt the overtake, Lando was called into the pitlane, moving you up to P2. 

“Gap to Verstappen?” You asked as you tried to keep your momentum.

 “Verstappen is 5 seconds ahead. There are 20 laps left so let’s try to catch up to him.” Your engineer said to you. 

You seemed to be one with the car and speed was something you found quickly as you caught up to Max with just 10 laps to go. Now was the hard part: overtaking him. 

Max was a very defensive driver. Everytime you tried to make an attempt at overtaking, Max would try to halt your attempt. You were trying to play it safe for three laps but the end of the race was getting closer and you needed to overtake now in order to win the race. 

The two of you were going into turn 6 side by side. Like repeating the start, you had chosen the outside line. But you weren’t going to let him push you off the track, as you pulled ahead and managed to overtake him. But the two of you had just turned into the strait of sector 2, with Max still close enough to have DRS. He went for the outside line, but you knew he was trying to fake you out. You stayed on the inside and ahead enough so that Max couldn’t overtake you going into turn 9. 

 “Start pulling away. 6 laps to go.” Your engineer said to you. 

“I know! I’m trying! This guy doesn’t want to let go of first place!” Your frustration from the beginning of the race had come back. Max was still riding your rear wing and you just wanted him to stop. You were so close to a race win you just needed to hold off Max for 6 more laps. 

6 laps became 5. Then 4. By the time it became lap 3 you had started to be able to pull away and by the 2nd to last lap, Max had fallen out of your DRS zone.

 ‘Holy shit, I could win this’ You thought. By the time you saw the white flag waving, it was starting to become real.

 “Last lap, last lap. You can bring it home.” Your race engineer said and this time you believed him. 

You were going to win this race.

“Many had doubted Mercedes when they announced they had signed an F2 rookie to be the one to replace Sir Lewis Hamilton. And while she hadn’t been able to beat her teammate throughout this season, (Y/N) (L/N) has proven that those doubts should be put to rest. She outqualifed her teammate for the first time yesterday! Today she not only outplaces him, but she also makes history as the first woman to win a Formula One race! (Y/N) (L/N) wins the Monza Grand Prix!”

As the checkered flag rose, you saw people from the Mercedes team climb the fence and wave their fists in celebration as you drove past them and crossed the finish line. 

 “That’s the checkered flag! P1 (Y/N)! You did it!”

“YEEEEESSSS! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO HARD! WOOOOO!” A smile spread across your face as you waved to the crowd while on your cool down lap. Part of you couldn’t believe it.

“Congratulations (Y/N). I know expectations for you were high at the start and I’m happy that you were able to deliver on them. You’re making everyone at Mercedes proud.” Toto’s voice now came over your radio and the praise made you smile even more.

 “Thank you Toto. I know a lot of people doubted your decision about signing me. Hopefully I’ve proven them wrong.”

 “You did kid. You did.”

Pulling into parc ferme, you didn’t hesitate to get out of the car and climb up onto the nose. You raised your fists in the air in celebration before swinging one up towards the sky as people cheered. You let yourself just stare out at the cheering ground and soaked up all the excitement before leaping off the nose of your car.

Your feet stay on the ground for a second before you’re getting scooped up into someone’s arms. They’re hugging you tight while spinning you around. You panic for a second at the unknown person holding you, but then you see the familiar blue helmet of George and relax, hugging him back.

 “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you (Y/N). You deserve this so much.” George says. He sounds like he’s crying. As he sets you down, you can see his visor is up and there are visible tears on his face.

 “I’m supposed to be the one crying George.” You said, your voice wavering as tears started to well up in your eyes. 

“We can both be crying because the fact is that you have proved everyone wrong. (Y/N) (L/N), you have just won your first race!” George exclaims as he pulls you in for another hug and you can’t help but start crying tears of joy.

Together the two of you walked over to the Mercedes team at the barrier, who welcomed you with open arms and helmet pats. You hugged your race engineer as soon as you saw them, thanking them for helping throughout the race. 

You were given many congratulations by both the team and those you walked past as you made your way to the cool down room. Your fellow drivers gave you hugs or pats on the shoulder as you passed, all of them very happy at your first win.

"I told you you would be up there one day!" Oscar said as you walked past him. Both him and Logan gave you a hug while congratulating you and your smile just kept getting bigger.

“You did not make it easy.” Was the first thing you said to Max when you entered the cool down room. Max let out a laugh as he sat in the P2 chair while you put down your helmet and swapped it for the P1 hat.

 “I told you I wouldn’t.” Max said. You rolled your eyes but smiled, taking a seat next to him. Lewis walked in shortly after, taking his seat in the P3 chair. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a side hug.

“Congrats. You’re picking up where I left off, kid.” He said.

 “I’m coming for your spot as Mercedes' golden child.” You told him. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

Stepping on to the top step of the podium felt like a surreal moment. Graciously accepting the first place trophy, the cheers almost sounded deafening as you hoisted it high above you and when your national anthem came, you smiled and mouthed the words with a smile on your face. And when the time finally came to pop the champagne bottle, you didn’t hesitate in spraying the two world champions while letting yourself get drenched as well. Who knows when you’ll be back up here, but you were here today. As you let yourself get sprayed with champagne, you soaked up the moment, feeling both the adrenaline and pure happiness as you met the eyes of smiling faces from your team down below, including George. As you stood on the top step, you could say with certainty that you were proud of yourself.

[racinggirl]

furthest from truth

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼

Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.

It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.

‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.  

‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’

She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.

You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.

After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?

Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.

The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.

‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.

‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.

‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.

‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.

Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.

‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.

‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.

‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.

You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.

‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’

You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.

‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.

‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’

Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.

‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.

Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.

‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.

You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.

You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.

People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.

‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.

‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.

‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.

‘’But the image McLa-..’’

‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.

‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.

landonorris added to his story

landonorris & yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others

I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡

view all 39,264 comments

user1 I feel ashamed

user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.

user2 You are so so so cute together!

‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.

[crueisummer]

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 | 𝓒𝓛16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

chapter summary: You surprise Charles at a race, and he wins and asks you to be his girlfriend.

playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love

author's note: Part 3!! I had a lot of ideas coming in with this one that's why it took so long xD Hope you guys like it! In my imagination, Max DNF and Charles won in Austria LOOOOOL jk. Anyway, thank you so much for all the support <;3

word count: 3.1k

disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.

            𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬

01:35 ━━━━●───── 02:53 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

While sitting on the couch in your living room, engrossed in writing a song with a guitar on your lap and a notebook in front of you, your concentration was interrupted by the FaceTime ringtone. Glancing at your MacBook on the coffee table, you saw Charles' name and immediately answered the call, greeted by his gorgeous face.

"Hello, cheri," Charles greeted you as you set aside your guitar. He settled onto the bed, his head bouncing with a smile, and you couldn't help but laugh. Observing his wet hair and the towel around his neck, you deduced that he had just finished showering after receiving your text about being available for a FaceTime call.

"Aww, is my baby tired?" You teasingly remarked, knowing he preferred terms of endearment over his name.

"Very," he replied with closed eyes, his smile still present.

"I watched the qualifying today, and you did amazingly! P2!" You exclaimed with enthusiasm, as if you were the first one telling him his position, even though he was well aware.

"Merci, bébé. I was thinking of you while racing," he winked at you.

"No, you weren't," you playfully rolled your eyes, aware of his flirtatious nature, yet blushing at his words. Adding, "What time is it there?"

"It's about 9:30 pm here."

"3:30 here."

"Were you writing?" He inquired, noticing the guitar beside you.

"Yeah, just a bit. I've only figured out the guitar part for now," you shrugged.

"Can I hear it?"

"Sure." You reached for the guitar and played the chords for him.

"That sounds amazing. I'm sure you'll come up with the lyrics soon. You're like a genius," he complimented.

"Charles, please. You're going to inflate my ego," you jokingly responded, strumming the guitar. Suddenly, memories of the night you and Charles first met flooded your mind, and the lyrics began to form. Setting the guitar down on the couch, you quickly grabbed your notebook and pen, eager to jot down the lyrics.

"See? You're already writing it down," he smirked at you, shaking his head, secretly thinking, You are so talented.

As you caught up with each other, you suggested that Charles turn off the lights in his room, leaving only the lamp on, and make himself comfortable. About thirty minutes later, he was starting to doze off. Whispering a soft "good night" to him, he responded with a gentle smile and mumbled it back. You watched him sleep, waiting for him to enter a deep slumber before ending the call, recalling how last time you had accidentally woken him up by ending the call too soon.

Now, gazing at his peaceful expression, you wished he could always be like this. He had confided in you about the pressure he was currently facing—falling behind in points compared to last year, ranking 6th in the driver standings, and the heightened attention on him as they returned to Austria, where he had won the previous year—all while aiming to secure a podium win that would mark Ferrari's 800th. Last week, he finished P4 and was disappointed not to make it to the podium, and all you could do was offer comfort over the phone since you were in New York.

It had been two months since you and Charles had met, and you both agreed to take things slow. As part of that decision, you chose not to accompany him to the races. However, when he finished P4 last week, you couldn't help but wish you could be there to hug and support him.

"Please be here," Charles whispered, surprising you. He seemed to be sleeping already. Is he sleep-talking?

You responded softly, "Hmm, Charles? What did you say?"

"Here," He whispered again, and that single word was all it took for you to grab your phone and message your manager that you were heading to Austria. Once you were certain Charles had fallen into a deep sleep, you ended the FaceTime call and made the necessary arrangements. You packed your suitcase, booked a private jet and pilot, secured accommodation and transportation in Austria, all timed to coincide with Charles' arrival at the paddock.

Upon your arrival, Kika and Pierre joined you, handing over the VIP pass. The media immediately began taking photos, unsure of your identity but capturing the moment just in case you were someone significant. Your attire—a black tank top and skirt, a red Ferrari leather jacket, red Jordans, black sunglasses and Charles' Ferrari cap—made it evident that you were there to support a certain Ferrari driver.

"Charles says he's in the motorhome. He's asking why I'm asking where he is," Pierre said, looking up at the two of you, waiting for your response.

"Hmm, if you tell him you have a surprise, he might suspect something, and we don't want that," Kika contemplated aloud.

"Um, just tell him you need him to sign something," you suggested, pointing to the cap you were wearing.

"Wait, are you two official?" Pierre asked you.

“No, not yet.” You smiled sheepishly at them as they expressed their surprise.

“Wow. I bet he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend before the day ends,” Kika said confidently. “I would bet all my money on it.”

“I know he's been planning it for a while, but the surprise might be the cherry on top,” Pierre added, while Kika linked her arm with his and rested her head on his shoulder.

You laughed at their reaction as Pierre led the way to the Ferrari motorhome. You pondered silently, realizing that it didn't really matter whether you were officially a couple or not yet. Charles had been patient, waiting for you to feel comfortable with him, and you both agreed to take things slow. But lately, you couldn't help but feel that both of you were ready for a committed relationship. So, why continue waiting?

A few employees were present, but there were no fans or media in sight. Kika took out her phone to record the moment, and Pierre called Charles, instructing him to come outside. With Pierre on your left and Kika on your right, you stood nervously in the middle, removing your sunglasses and cap to make it easier for Charles to recognize you. You waited for about a minute until three figures wearing red emerged from the building. Charles was the first one out, scanning the surroundings, and when his eyes met yours, his face lit up.

"Y/N?"

"Surprise!"

Grinning, you rushed toward him, and he reciprocated by opening his arms, embracing you tightly. Laughter filled the air as Charles stood there, slightly confused but delighted, while you savored his scent and held onto him. In your imagination, you had envisioned this surprise and his reaction countless times, but nothing compared to the reality of hugging him.

The three people around you laughed and gushed at the sight, and eventually, you pulled away slightly, keeping your arm loosely wrapped around his as you smiled and greeted him with a simple "Hi."

"What? How? When I fell asleep last night, you were still in New York!" He exclaimed, his eyes widening with astonishment. His confusion was undeniably adorable.

"Yeah, but you were sleep-talking, practically begging me to come here!" You replied, creating some distance between you and Charles, placing your hand on your hip. He didn't appreciate the space and closed the gap, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your head, as you faced your three friends, who were playfully teasing Charles.

"He begged you to come here!?" Carlos shouted in amusement.

"Just say you're happy she's here!" Pierre exclaimed.

“Wait, you guys are in a call while sleeping?” Arthur teased.

"For crying out loud, just kiss her already so I can turn this off!" Everyone turned their attention to Kika, who was still recording the entire interaction. Except for Charles, who gently placed his hand on your chin, guiding your face to look at him. As you turned to meet his gaze, his lips were already in close proximity to yours. He closed the gap between you and gave you a brief but tender kiss before pulling away.

Shortly after, Kika and Pierre bid their farewells, and you hugged and thanked them. Charles then introduced you to Carlos and Arthur.

"Ahh, so this is the famous 'Y/N' that Charles has been talking so much about!" Carlos remarked, smiling as you both stepped back.

You giggled and playfully asked, "Oh really? What has he been saying about me?"

"He's always bringing you up in conversations! Saying things like 'Did you know Y/N is like this...'" Arthur began, imitating Charles as the four of you shared a lighthearted moment.

"Shut up, mate! Go! Don’t you two have to be somewhere?" Charles exclaimed, playfully shooing Carlos and Arthur away. They pretended to be offended but waved goodbye as they left. Charles then took your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours, and led you into the motorhome.

Curiosity filled Charles' expression as he guided you through the motorhome. "Seriously, how did you get here? Wha-?" he began to ask, but you interrupted with laughter, explaining most of it.

As he showed you the different rooms, you waved and greeted the staff. The motorhome had offices where people were working, tables and chairs in the middle, and stairs at the back. Charles led you up the stairs, pointing out the kitchen, and at the top of the stairs was the second floor, where his driver's room was located.

His room was small, with a closet on the left, a small desk beside it, and his bed on the right. You sat on his bed while he closed the door behind you. Commenting on the size, you remarked, "Well, this is bigger than what you described."

"Still, I don't like hanging around here," he chuckled, joining you on the bed. You looked at him, and he couldn't help but smile. "I still can't believe you're here. Did I actually sleep talk last night?"

“Yes! You whispered, ‘be here’ twice and I don’t know, it felt right for me to get here as soon as I can,” you explained and shrugged at the end. Charles' smile didn't fade.

"Can I kiss you now?" he asked softly, and you nodded in response. His lips were warm and soft as they met yours. They parted slightly, allowing your tongues to intertwine. The gentle tickle of his breath beneath your nose, his fingers gently combing through your hair—every sensation was heightened as you breathed each other in.

Charles firmly grasped your hips, urging you to settle onto his lap as he shifted back on the bed. Your bodies pressed against each other with passion, breathing heavily as your lips locked together. The taste of your shared breath lingered, accompanied by the feel of your combined heartbeats. With a slight fumble, he managed to remove your jacket, and his lips trailed a series of small kisses along your neck, leaving a trail of pleasure in their wake.

"Charles, you're going to leave a mark," you whispered breathlessly, reveling in the intense sensations evoked by his kisses.

"That's exactly what I want, my love," he replied in a rough, raspy voice. You entangled your hands in his hair and tugged gently, prompting him to withdraw and admire his handiwork. He looked at you, breathless, your lips reddened and swollen, your hair tousled, and a vivid red mark adorning the left side of your neck—a visible symbol of his possession.

Charles was about to speak when his phone suddenly began vibrating in his pocket. He reached for it and leaned against the headboard of the bed. Finally feeling your fatigue from the long flight, you put your head on Charles' chest and wrapped an arm around his stomach, closing your eyes and finding comfort in the rise and fall of his chest against you. You were almost asleep when you heard Charles bidding the caller goodbye.

"Babe, I have to go to the parade now. Do you want to stay here and take a nap?" Charles asked, running his fingers through your hair as you nodded.

"Okay, I'll be back in 30 minutes tops," Charles says, making a move to leave. At first, you resist, but knowing he'll get in trouble if he's late, you let him go. He kisses you on the forehead goodbye, and you're already fast asleep before he's out of the room.

"Y/N, amour. Wake up," Charles says, planting kisses on your face and arm to gently wake you up. You stir and open your eyes, and he smiles at you. "Sorry to wake you up, but you're going to watch me win now."

You laugh at his cockiness and ask him if you have time to freshen up. He nods, and you stand in front of him, finishing up your lip gloss. He tries to lean in for a kiss, but you stop him, reminding him of your lip gloss. He groans and kisses your forehead instead. Holding your hand, he leads you outside the motorhome.

"I'm going to be busy now. Will you be fine with Arthur?" he asks, taking a sip of water while his hand remains intertwined with yours. You nod, assuring him you'll be okay.

"Are you sure? You can ask Kika to sit here with you, though," he suggests, concerned about your comfort.

"Charles, don't worry. I'm a grown woman. I think I can handle spending time with new people," you laugh, teasing him. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Kika would want to stay and support Pierre."

Once everything is settled, the two of you enter the garage. Charles greets everyone while holding your hand, and you wave at them. He shows you to your seat next to Arthur. Charles introduces you to Joris and Andrea, who are sitting beside Arthur, and then he leaves for a brief team meeting.

As you observe the garage, Joris asks if this is your first F1 race.

“First race and first-time surprising Charles.” You smile at him, and he tells you he’s going to show you something. He tilts his camera to you, and you see a photo of Charles at his apartment, smiling while looking at his phone.

“He was texting you, by the way.” He says and you blush, asking him to send you a copy of the picture. He nods and adds, “You know, I’ve never seen him smile like that.”

“Bullshit. You probably say that to all the girls he brings here.” You joke and chuckle at him.

He raises his arms and says, “Hey, I don’t have any reason to say that to you in the first place. So, trust me when I say that he’s never looked at a girl like that, ever.”

Arthur then chimes in, saying he's never seen Charles talk about someone so much, especially to his mother.

Your eyes widen. He told his mother about me? You try not to show any emotion as you ask Arthur, “What has he said about me?”

“I’m pretty sure all good things. I know she doesn’t like to judge before meeting someone, so she’s been asking Charles to invite you for dinner, but he said the two of you are taking things slow, and I think she really liked that.” Arthur smiles at you.

“Charles hasn’t had a good track record when it comes to dating, and Maman tries not to interfere; but you know.” Arthur adds and nods his head, and you did too. Charles previously told you about his two previous relationships and how fucked up everything started and ended.

You're interrupted when Charles approaches your group. He takes you to the side for a moment of privacy. He informs you that he has to go to the grid and asks if you're sure you'll be fine.

“Charles, I’m fine, okay? Now, good luck out there.” You smile at him and pat his chest.

“That’s it?” He says frowning. He turns to his side and taps his cheek. You laugh at him and gently held his jaw, tilting his face to kiss him gently on the lips.

When you pulled away, you whisper to his ear, trying to copy his accent, “Good luck, amour.”

He grins like a kid and replies, “I have my good luck charm right here.”

During the race, you wear a headset to listen to the communication between Charles and his engineer. Arthur explains the race terminology to you, and you enjoy watching the pit stops. When Charles briefly takes the lead and Carlos follows in second place, everyone in the garage celebrates, and you join in. Not realizing the film crew on the garage and zooming in on you celebrating until you saw in one of the screens. You stopped jumping and blushed, realizing there were cameras here and that you’ve been made by the media.

As Charles crosses the finish line first, Arthur and the others grab you and run from the garage to the barricades. Charles parks his car, stands on it, and raises his fists in triumph. The lot of you cheer for your driver. He removes his helmet and balaclava and was just about to hug you when you grab his cheek and kiss him passionately on the lips. You felt him get taken aback but he kisses back instantly. The crowd around you cheers, and Charles pulls away and smiles at you. He goes on to shake hands with Arthur and others before preparing for his interview.

After a few minutes, they step up on the podium, and you watch as Charles gets handed the trophy and he raises it. He looks around and locks eyes with you. He winks, and you make a heart gesture with your hands. He laughs and shakes his head.

You're glad you came to surprise him, knowing in your heart that you're ready for the next step in your relationship. While you had agreed to take things slow, you knew he had been patiently waiting for a sign that you were ready to start a new relationship.

As night fell and you found yourselves on the balcony of your hotel room, gazing at the starry sky, a feeling of familiarity washed over you. Charles lovingly wrapped his arm around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as you look back at the day and think that your spontaneous decision to support him at the race was a clear indication of your feelings, and he knows it.  

Finally, Charles finally asked the question he had been longing to ask all day, "Will you be my girlfriend?"

A smile adorned your face as you turned to face him, his arms still embracing you. Without hesitation, you kissed him and replied, "Yes."

taglist: @notleclerc @elegantnighttragedy @buendiabebeta @i-have-no-idea-of-who-i-am @fangirlika @akahalloween31

[coimbrabertone]

MotoGP Silly Season Predictions - Plus Larson Waiver Talk.

As recently as this morning, I was planning on this week's blogpost being about the Kyle Larson waiver situation over in NASCAR, however, MotoGP then decided to do everything all at once and launched silly season into high gear.

So, with regards to Larson, I'll just say one thing: he raced in the Indianapolis 500 competitively and made NASCAR look good mere years after Jimmie Johnson, unfortunately, struggled in a Chip Ganassi Indycar on road and street circuits - and there were a lot of jokes at NASCAR's expense after their seven-time world champion spun out every race. So how does NASCAR repay him? Utter silence over whether or not he'll get a playoff waiver.

Kyle Larson is the 2021 champion, took his car to the owner's championship final four as a result of playoff shenanigans in 2022, and then made the final four in 2023 again. He is considered one of the top talents in NASCAR and he has the results to back it up. So why is there controversy over him getting a playoff waiver for this year?

Because Kyle Larson prioritized the Indianapolis 500 last weekend.

I talked about this in my Motorsports Christmas blogpost, but the Indy 500 was rain delayed and Kyle Larson stayed there to compete, and only then he flew out to Charlotte. Now, Kyle Larson landed, was ready to get into the car, but then it started raining in Charlotte too. Just before midnight, as the track was drying, NASCAR controversially decided to call the race, thus Kyle Larson was not able to relieve Justin Allgaier in the #5 and resume the rest of the Coke 600 at Charlotte Motor Speedway.

NASCAR is mad because every other weekend of the year, they're the biggest show in racing, they can throw their weight around and try to chase NFL ratings while all other racing series are considered a niche. That's true every weekend except Memorial Day weekend, when the Indianapolis 500 reigns supreme. The whole existence of the Charlotte 600 is to compete with Indy.

Larson prioritized the bigger race and that made NASCAR made, because they're used to getting their egos stroked.

Larson is one of the best drivers in NASCAR and the double attempt brought good publicity to both sports. He had already won his way into the playoffs and made an effort to get to Charlotte for the end of the 600 - give him a waiver. If not, well, you face the possibility that Austin Cindric is in the playoffs after his shock win at Iowa, and one of the top drivers in the series isn't.

I like Austin, I'm glad he won, but he's nowhere near the same level as Kyle Larson. If he can compete for the championship and Kyle can't, then it makes the NASCAR playoffs look even less legitimate than they already are.

Anyway, that turned into a longer rant than I intended, so I'll leave it there. Now onto the main topic for today: MotoGP silly season.

Yesterday at Mugello, Enea Bastianini spent the final laps of the race charging from fourth to second, overtaking Marc Marquez for third and then pulling off an audacious last corner pass on Jorge Martin for second. This meant that Enea finished just eight tenths off leader Pecco Bagnaia for a factory Ducati 1-2.

So naturally, Ducati has decided to replace him.

Marc Marquez, who finished four and last out of these three, is going to the Ducati Lenovo Team, according to Autosport.

This was all but confirmed when, a few hours later, Aprilia confirmed the signing of Jorge Martin for Aprilia. Jorge Martin who finished third and got overtaken by Enea Bastianini in the final corner, mind you.

Now, of course, Ducati is not judging this off of one race alone and I acknowledge - as I did in two recent blogposts - that Enea has had a rotten time on the factory Ducati seat. That being said, seeing him lose Ducati to Marc Marquez, who finished last of the main three, and then lose out on the Aprilia seat to the guy he overtook in the final corner. It stings.

That being said, some news out of this weekend might offer a possibility for Enea to have a bit of a soft landing from the factory seat anyway. Let me explain:

Earlier in this weekend, Marc Marquez spelled out his demands in an interview. He said that he was not interested in going to Pramac, saying that he didn't want to switch from a satellite team (he's currently riding a 2023 Ducati at Gresini Racing) to another satellite team (Pramac runs 2024 Ducatis, same as the factory team, with factory contracted riders, they are still customers, however). Instead, Marquez said that the best option was a factory team, and if not that, then a factory bike at minimum.

Translation: Marc Marquez wanted the factory team for 2025, and if he couldn't get that, then he wanted a 2025 Ducati at Gresini, remaining at his current team.

In response, Gino Borsoi, who is the team manager at Pramac, insisted that his team had a contract for two factory-spec Ducati GP25s next year. This was somewhat of a surprise for a number of reasons, one: Ducati announced late last year that they signed Moto2 rider Fermin Aldeguer for 2025, and it seemed like the natural landing spot for him was going to be Pramac...until it emerged later on that Ducati wanted to start Fermin out on a 2024 bike. Two: regardless of which spec Ducati Fermin is going to be on, Pramac has been heavily linked to Yamaha lately.

The Japanese bikes are struggling in MotoGP right now and, ever since RNF switched to satellite Aprilias for 2023, Yamaha has not had a satellite team. Four bikes capturing data instead of two could really help Yamaha right now, so they've been linked to pretty much every Ducati satellite team the last few months. VR46 with the romanticism of a Valentino Rossi and Yamaha reunion, Gresini until they renewed their deal, and most recently, with Pramac.

Yamaha was desperate and the rumor has been that they offered very generous terms to Pramac.

So, the news that Pramac may stay with Ducati after all is a shock to the media, but it does not seem to have been much of a shock to Ducati. Ducati had been working on a way to keep both Martin and Marquez, and it seems that they wanted to offer Pramac the chance to run MotoGP's biggest star - Marc Marquez - as a reason to stay...and potentially a reason to accept taking on a rookie Aldeguer on a year-old bike as well.

Now that Marquez is going to the factory team instead and Jorge Martin has snatched the open Aprilia seat, I see an opening. Ducati can send Enea Bastianini to Pramac, keeping him on a factory spec bike while giving Pramac another frontrunning rider. Aldeguer joins as Bastianini's teammate, on a GP25 if that's what it takes to keep Pramac in the fold, because Marc Marquez will be in the factory team so freeing up a GP25 won't be as important.

What about VR46 and Gresini then? Well, I think Marco Bezzecchi's current season has been a bit of a disaster, so he won't really have much of a chance to get a factory ride next year, so staying at VR46 seems likely. Furthermore, his struggles mean that Bezzecchi probably isn't going to have much luck demanding Ducati gives him a GP25, so status quo is probably the most likely outcome there. It's unfortunate for Bezzecchi, but the sheer reality is that, with all these hot riders on the market, his options seem to be either stay at VR46, or make a more or less lateral move to Trackhouse Aprilia.

Then Franco Morbidelli, another Valentino Rossi academy product, can drop from Pramac into the other VR46 seat.

Where does Fabio DiGiannantonio go then? Well, with Marquez going to the factory, Fabio can now return to Gresini and be reunited with Frankie Carchedi. Thus, restoring the 2023 lineup of Fabio DiGiannantonio and Alex Marquez.

So, to sum things up, I think Ducati can keep all three of its satellite teams and all eight bikes like this:

Ducati Lenovo (GP25): Pecco Bagnaia and Marc Marquez.

Pramac (GP25): Enea Bastianini and Fermin Aldeguer.

VR46 (GP24): Marco Bezzecchi and Franco Morbidelli.

Gresini (GP24): Fabio DiGiannantonio and Alex Marquez.

Maybe Pramac will go to Yamaha after all, maybe my predictions will look radically wrong in a few weeks. I don't know how it'll turn out, but this is the scheme I've thought up in my mind.

I need to do something since with Marc Marquez at Ducati and Jorge Martin at Aprilia, my two favorite teams now have my two least favorite riders and I'm trying not to dwell on that part.

So yeah.

Oh, also this weekend Indycar raced at Detroit, but uhh...the less said about that, the better.

[pixeldistractions]

warnings: adult activities and conversation, pictures should be Tumblr-safe (we’ll see…), spice level 3/5 🌶️🌶️🌶️ 😇

He promised she wouldn’t hate this, so sometimes that meant he carried four jugs of water to fill the tank so she could have a luxurious hot shower. She appreciated that, and she would take care of him in return. She massaged his tired muscles, kneading all that tension, the powerful shoulders and hard-working back, and turned him into putty. Then when he was melted to her satisfaction and dozing off to sleep—she wasn’t quite done with him yet—she traced the shapes of his tattoo, spanning shoulder or shoulder.

“Did it hurt?”

“Heh, yeah. It took forever.”

“Does it still?”

“Not anymore.”

“Wait, though, it’s a compass,” she said. “But what good is a compass that you can’t see?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t think of that. Maybe it’s not for me.”

“Who’s it for then?”

“You’re the only one who sees it, so I guess it’s for you.”

“Are you saying I’m lost?”

“No. Not anymore. You have a compass now.”

She could see the corners of his lips, grinning into the pillow.

“Hmm, that’s very suave, mister.”

“We’re gonna pretend I planned it that way.”

She tugged on his body until he rolled over, so she could straddle his front instead, then she leaned down to kiss him.

The close confines of their camper called for some romantic experimentation, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Jordan thrived on variety and the millions of ways and places he could cherish her body. He spoiled her with it. In the cab of the camper, window covers on, lean the seats way way back. A blanket under the stars, rolled up together into a frenzy. Save the moans for outside, though you might scare the wildlife. That could be fun, too. In the deep woods with only the nocturnal creatures as their witness. Don’t be shy of the owls and raccoons. They don’t care, they’re naked, too. A campfire crackling. Shirts kept on, or loosened, or scrunched up in a tangle. A wool blanket draped over her back and slowly falling off with each rock and sway. November brought a harsh chill to the nights, but they were always too hot together to ever feel the cold.

Or, just as often, inside, in their bed. So they devised some tricks, battery powered fans for noise, a makeshift wall made of pallet scrap, a haphazard door cut and fit from more scraps. It closed and locked; that was all that mattered. A carefully placed toy that would rattle when little feet crept out of bed. Keep it slow and rhythmic, so so sweet. Hush now, only whispers and sighs, muffled passions, bit lips, covered moans. Don’t rock the camper.

Another experiment, one that caused some mixed anxieties but was just as exciting, they’d been talking about skin to skin. Maria had been on her new birth control for a full cycle now. She was sure it was the right one this time. Double, triple checked.

“I want to feel you,” she said, “not a rubber bag.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, very sure,” she said, sliding herself over him, up and down and around him, just waiting for the go-ahead to push him deep inside.

“I’m just saying, the last time I did this, someone got knocked up with twins.”

“I won’t get pregnant. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Wow. Okay. Yes.”

And that was all she needed.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned.

“I’m gonna need you to last more than two minutes.”

He was already far beyond words, so she got straight to work. She moved herself on him purposefully, hitting all her right spots while keeping it slow and steady, watching his face melt with pleasure, slowing him down and trying her best to beat him to the finish line because this was going to be a race. She would win, but it might be close.

The camper rocked, for sure.

— “boxes and squares #5.1: live the fairytale” (7/10)

previously: Jordan is super careful and Maria is irresponsible

notes: this isn’t just frivolous smut, by the way. (Not that I would ever be above writing such a thing!) We are heading into some important character development in the next piece. Also not meant to be foreboding. She really did double-triple check her birth control this time! It’s like 99% effective or something…

Next -> // 5.1 start // index

[damon-loves-pie]

Very First Date.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader.

Word count: About 5.1k words. 

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a bad date with another guy who kept making sexual advances towards her.(Nothing detailed though.), Steve talks slightly about a fight with his father, reader mentions not having a good relationship with hers either for a moment. (Nothing really descriptive here either.) Other than that, its mostly a FLUFFYYYY PIECE. 

I DID IGNORE THE LAYOUT OF STEVE’S ROOF FOR THE ENDING BECAUSE I WANTED THEM TO LOOK AT STARS. 

Summary:  Steve and the reader are best friends after having worked at Scoops together. Reader went out on a date with a guy which ended horribly and found herself at Steve’s to tell him about it and complain about how she hadn’t had a good date in months. Steve takes matters into his own hands since he’s into the reader and takes her out for a night wanting to remind her how she should be treated by a guy. 

Author’s note: THIS IS MY FIRST STEVE HARRINGTON IMAGINE I HAVE FULLY FINISHED! Usually I would stop halfway through, worried they weren’t going to fit the image I had created in my head. I am feeling a lot better tonight, after having been in the ER the other night. And I’m surprised to be sharing something around 8pm instead of 2 am. 

I did proofread but I’m sorry if I missed something, this was overall just a fluffy imagine I did because I saw a great Steve edit on Tiktok. 

PLEASE CLICK ON MY ACCOUNT AND CHECKOUT MY OTHER WORK, I mostly write for Eddie and can’t add my writing masterlist because I’ve been having issues with being shadow banned. 

But enjoy! 

------

Steve was having a horrible night.

His first Friday off in three weeks and he was at home moping alone.

First off you were out on a date with another guy. Not like it actually matters that it bothered him, because you two were just friends and that was it.

But on top of that, Robin canceled on him because Vickie asked her if she was free.

Which don't get him wrong, he was happy for his friend. But fuck did he not want to be alone tonight.

He thought about calling up Linda or Heidi, in the end deciding against it. He was tired of flings that weren't going anywhere.

Little did Steve know though, you were having as bad of night.

The date you were on had to be one of the worst you have ever been on.

You didn't even last past thirty minutes into it.

You told the boy you were heading to the ladies' room and snuck off quickly paying for a meal that wasn't even out yet before leaving.

Driving towards the Harrington home, you were ready to complain to your friends about how horrible another date went.

You felt defeated, like you were done with men.

Partially because the fact most of them were animals, and also just because they weren't the one you wanted anyway.

You wanted the boy who you were heading towards, the boy who felt like home to you when you needed someone to make you feel better.

You wanted Steve Harrington.

But you knew your friendship meant too much to you to even think about ruining it over some stupid feelings you had, so you kept them buried.

Opening the unlocked door you yell out into the home, trying to pinpoint where the two were.

"Steve? Robin?" You ask, closing the door behind you quietly hoping to not scare either of them.

From the kitchen Steve heard your voice, confused as he spread the mayo over the bread of the sandwich he was making.

"(Y/N)?" He questions, because he thought you would be on your date right now.

Steve felt his heart start beating faster as he realized you were here and not on your date, mind racing with different answers to why that might be.

Taking off your shoes and bag you respond to the boy by answering a loud,

"Yes," before leaving your items by the door.

Steve hears your muffled voice through the wall, smiling to himself. He was happy to know maybe he wouldn't be alone tonight. Even if it was just a friend, who he wish would be more.

But it still felt like a win because you were here instead of with some other guy.

"Kitchen." Steve tells you, hearing your steps coming through the hallway into the big kitchen.

You walk in to see him making a single sandwich, not sandwiches, just a sandwich.

"Is that what you're having for dinner?" You laugh confused on how that was going to fill him up. Hopping your body up, you take a seat on the counter behind him.

Steve shrugs, a light blush creeping on his face because he really wasn't expecting to see anyone tonight.

He was down and wanted something simple that didn't take much effort.

"I don't feel like making anything else." Steve says, finishing his meal.  

You giggle lightly as the boy turns around, sandwich small in his big hands. His face still a little red as he took a bite.

"You're going to be hungry again in like an hour." You tell him playfully, watching his eyes twinkle when they meet yours.

Chewing, he took in your outfit.

You were wearing a light pink plaid skirt with a low cut black top.

You looked beautiful to him, the sound of your giggling through the air making him nervous.

Steve shakes the feeling off before shrugging.

"Then I'll order take out." He tells you, chucking slightly before taking another bite.

You nod, understanding. Your eyes roamed around the room to see if you could find any remnants of Robin around.

Not seeing anything you turn your stare back towards him.

"Where's Robin?" You ask him, frowning slightly because you thought they were both off tonight.

You see Steve's body soften a little bit at your question.

"She canceled on me, Vickie asked to see her. Which good for her actually, one of us deserved to have a fun night." Steve answers, taking the last bite of his sandwich.

Steve's heart pound as he brought his eyes back up to yours.

"Are you supposed to be on a date?" He asks you, praying it was canceled and you hadn't gone.

Your body tensed while a sigh slipped your lips, yours legs automatically kicking back and forth slightly.

"That's why I'm here. I wanted to tell both of you how horrible it was, and when I say horrible Steve, I mean horrible." You tell him, shivering at the thought of earlier.

Steve's head popped up a little bit as he tried to not look excited about the fact your date hadn't gone well.

While he was happy for that, he was also wondering what could of made it so bad.

He questioned if maybe he would have to go kick the guy's ass.

"I thought you were out with that one guy from science club? Um, Jackson or whatever." Steve says, smirking internally because he knew the guy's name. But didn't want to seem like he was that important to him.

It's not like he hadn't been questioning the last few days, multiple different times, what that guy had that he didn't.

Meeting your eyes with Steve's, you tap your fingers nervously on the counter.

"Jacob, his name was Jacob." You tell him, watching him nod.

"And I had gone on the date, but god I didn't expect it to go so bad so fast." You finish, cringing as you see Steve's brow crinkle.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks you, arms crossing his chest.

Your body langue continues to be anxious, your feet still swinging as you tilt your head back before taking a deep breath.

"I mean literally not even fifteen minutes into the date he was trying to feel up my skirt. Not to mention all the sexual advances he kept making and nasty things he was saying. The whole situation just made me uncomfortable." You tell him honestly, seeing Steve grimace.

He didn't want you to go out with anyone else, but you didn't deserve that to happen.

"He always seemed so um." Steve speaks, snapping his fingers for the word.

"Innocent?" You finish, watching him nod in agreement.

"That's the word." He says, pointing out a finger.

"That's why I agreed to go out with him, I thought maybe this one wouldn't be a pervert so fast in. Not that I'm even against sleeping with someone on the first date, but fuck at least let us get through dinner." You groan, eyes rolling.

"Did you get through dinner?" He asks while you shake your head.

"No, I told him I had to go to the bathroom then went to the register to pay, leaving to come here. Didn't touch my food or anything since it wasn't out yet." You say truthfully, you didn't want to risk waiting a second longer there.

Steve rolls his eyes playfully.

"You should of left him to pay for it." Steve chuckles, lifting his gaze to yours a smile on his mouth.

"I should of, but I just wanted out of there." You shake your your head, laughing lightly.

"I just want one good date, I legit haven't been a good first date in months." You sigh, looking down at your feet.

Steve sits there for a second staring at you, idea sparking in his head.

You were dressed for a date still, and he was dressed since he was originally supposed to hang out with Robin.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, leaning his head back slightly.  

"What?" You ask him, bringing your gaze to his.

"Are you hungry? Because you're right that sandwich didn't do anything." Steve shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

You purse yours lips together for a moment.

"I could eat." You nod, watching him lean off the counter.

Steve smiles, nodding.

"Then lets go." He motions, holding his hand out to you.

Raising an eyebrow you take his hand, getting off the counter.

"Go where?" You ask, fixing your skirt.

You were confused on what Steve was doing, we're you two going to go out to eat? Get take out and come back here? What was on his mind, you wondered.

"Let's go show you that there are still good first dates in the world." Steve says seriously, grabbing his keys off the counter.

He decided even if he couldn't officially take you out without admitting his feelings,  he could still show you what it's like. Friends show friends a good time right?

You freeze in place, wondering if you were dreaming.

"First date?" You squeak as he laughs, turning back towards you.

"Yes, date. Come on, friends can take each other out." He smiles at you.

"Now let me show you that even though you will have some bad dates, there will be good ones waiting for you." He finishes, motioning to the front door.

Standing there you see him standing tall, muscles sticking out of his blue stripped shirt while he held the door open for you.

It wouldn't hurt to let him show you a good time you thought.

After all friends can have friend dates, right?

"I guess I'm still dressed for it." You agree, following him as he goes to lock the front door behind you two.

Steve felt himself stumbling slightly to find the key before leading you to the car.

After all he had to make it seem like this wasn't as big of deal to him as it really was.

"Just sit back and enjoy the night because you're right, I have only heard you talk about how bad your dates have been lately. And you deserve a good one." Steve tells you, opening the passenger door for you to get in.

A blush comes across your cheeks while you take a seat.

"Already starting huh?" You tease, smile on your lips.

"Like I said, I'm going to show you a good first date." He smiles, closing the door behind you.

Steve starts driving, eventually pulling into a gas station down the road.

He didn't really need gas for what he had planned, but he needed an excuse to stop to get you something he would get you if he was taking you on a real first date.

"I need to get some gas before we go anywhere." Steve says, hopping out of the car leaving you to wait nervously.

You sat there, hand tapping on your thigh, wondering where tonight was going to take you two.

You've liked him for the past couple of years since working together at Scoops, not that you didn't think he was cute before that.

Just you guys never really spoke before in high school other than some small talk here and there.

You wondered if maybe you should stop this, not wanting to confuse yourself too much by not being able to keep a straight head after this.

You didn't want to lose him over a silly crush.

But you couldn't help but wonder if you should let it play through, because it could possibly be the closest thing you'll get to a real date with Steve Harrington.

Turning your head back towards the opening gas station door, out comes a smiling Steve with an arm behind his back.  

Still smiling he opens the car door, leaning in.

Steve watched your face turn awestruck as he brought his arm around, a single red rose for you in his hands.

He tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear nervously after you take the flower from his hand.

You fingers lightly running over the petals delicately.

"Normally I would of got you flowers before hand, but this date caught me off guard." Steve chuckles, seeing you smile softly.

"Steve, you didn't have t-" You start, getting cut off by the boy protesting you to let the night just happen.

"(Y/N), like I said just sit back and relax and just enjoy the night. That way you'll remember to not settle for anyone's shit during another date you'll have." He tells you, getting out to pump the gas he bought.

Twirling the flower in your hand, you were a giddy mess.

Not even into the actual so called date yet, and it was already one of the best dates you've had.

No one had ever given you flowers on a date.

You've gotten some for a few holidays, after begging for them of course. But you had never experienced anyone willingly wanting to give you something so simple but so special.

Shaking off the butterflies in your stomach, you turn towards Steve after he gets back into the car.

"Thank you for this Steve." You tell him honestly, seeing his eyes glimmer as he starts the car.

Steve's heart exploded at how happy you were about the flower.

He would buy you all the flowers in the world if it meant to see you with that look on your face the rest of his life.

He couldn't wait for the rest of the night, knowing if you enjoyed this then you were going to have a great time tonight.

"Just wait till you see the rest of the date." Steve winks teasingly through the rearview mirror, pulling out of the gas station.

The drive was quiet besides the light humming from Steve as he listened to the music playing through the radio.

Both of you were as nervous as the other, unknowingly of course.

Steve drove out into a small town, smaller than Hawkins, about 20 minutes out.

He pulled into a little ma and pa pizzeria, the red glowing lights shining in the night as you took in the little brick building.

Steve was a gentleman as always, demanding to open the car door for you, which you gladly accepted.

You decided you were going to let yourself enjoy every minute of this, because deep down you hoped maybe he would enjoy it as much as you.

He lead you inside, both of you picking a small little booth in the corner as you waited for a waitress to arrive.

The place was small but cute.

All of the booths were hardwood with white and black checkered floor tiles underneath.

The walls were hardwood as well, red checkered table cloths giving the place a much needed pop of color.

There was even cute hanging lights above each table, giving them all a personal romantic glow.

Bringing your eyes to Steve, you smile.

"How often do you come here?" You ask him softly.

Taken aback a bit, Steve feels nervous wondering if you meant if he brough other dates here.

He wouldn't ever dare to bring anyone else here, besides Robin maybe. But other than that, no one was important enough to bring here other than you.

"By myself? Probably once a week, with anyone else? Never." Steve says honestly, watching your eyes widen a bit.

"Really? How did you find this place then?" You ask him, leaning your chin onto your hand.

Steve nods, taking a look at his hands before picking his arm to rest it on the table.

"It happened a few weeks after graduation actually." He tells you, not wanting to make eye contact.

"I uh had got in a really bad fight with my father about my future, or well lack there of according to him. And I took one of his many checkbooks, thinking about signing me a fat check and just leaving. I started to drive, not really caring about anything just being fueled by anger and ended up stopping here to breathe. Now the rest is history, and I've been coming here ever since." Steve explains, playing with his hands nervously.

He had never told anyone about that night.

Your heart aches for him, not having a good relationship with your parents either.

Not always seeing eye to eye on your future as well.  

"Tell me you at least used his checkbook to buy your dinner that night?" You ask him, placing your hand on his.  

Steve chuckles, bringing his eyes to yours.

"No, but I should have. It would of been the least he could do." Steve smiles, while you give him a light squeeze.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about that?" You say quietly,  intertwining your hand with his.

"I think because until recently, I actually thought he was right." He says honestly, both of your hearts beating fast from the electricity running between your fingers.

You could swear if you let go then lightning would hit the lamp above you.

"Steve your father wasn't right at all, and I'm happy you didn't leave because if you would have then we wouldn't be here, and I can't stand the thought that you might not have came into my life." You tell him truthfully.

If he would of left, you would of been working at Scoops with who knows instead of Steve.

That summer set the path to where you two were today.

"Really?" He asks as you nod.

"Really." You smile, seeing your waitress approaching from the side.

Reviewing the menu took forever for both of you, Steve said everything he had tried previously had been great. And on top of that it was kind of late with it being about 7:30 when you arrived, and both of you not having really ate much earlier didn't help when deciding what to order.

But you two settled on a plate of mozzarella sticks to start with and a medium house special to share with extra green peppers.

The conversation over dinner was alive, no small talk having to happen at all since you two knew each other so well. There were no awkward pauses or laughs, it was fun and energetic.

It was a great change of pace for both of you, since both of you had been on dates that were more than less boring lately.

You two were laughing loudly as you walked out of the restaurant.

The leftover pizza box hugged against your chest while Steve opened your door for you again.

"Steve thank you for sharing this place with me and what it means to you. It was truly one of the better dates I've been on." You tell him as he takes a seat.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he was happy to know you enjoyed what he had planned so far.

But was lowkey hurt you thought that this was all to his date with you.

He looks over, pouting jokingly with a hand over his heart.

"Why are you talking like it's over? We still have more to do till it's done." Steve says, glimmer in his eyes.

"What do you mean there's more?" You ask him, hint of curiosity in your voice, watching the car back out of the parking lot.  

"I mean, I don't only come here for the pizza. There's also an awesome ice cream parlor down the road that has the best malts. Which I know you love right?" He asks, already knowing the answer because you go to the ice cream shop in town every payday of yours.

"You're right, I do love a good butterscotch malt." You laugh, seeing a smile form on his face.

"Yeah so just let me do my thing and make sure you have a fun night okay? I hate to say it but you will probably be getting home late tonight because it's already almost nine." He nods, finger pointing over to the clock on the dash.

"You trying to get me to the spend the night Harrington?"  You joke teasingly, turning your body so your crossed legs were facing him.

He was right, your mom locked the door at ten because she had to be up by four am and didn't want to be awakened by the door slamming.

If you weren't home by then it was up to you to find a place to stay, especially since you got your key privileges taken away years ago because you kept losing them.

Your mom is convinced someone who finds the silver key will somehow know it belonged to your front door.  

"Hey, then it was a good first date." He says playfully, pulling into the gravel drive of what you guessed to be the ice cream shop.

"But yes, more than likely by the time we get home your mom will have the door locked. So you will probably have to crash at mine." Steve tells you truthfully, opening the door to get out of the car.

After looking over the menu you ended up ordering what you and Steve already knew you were going to, a butterscotch malt.

The girl at the window handed you two your malts before you sat down at one of the tables outside.

"So did you find this place the night you found the pizzeria?" You ask him, bringing the straw to your mouth.  

"Uh no actually, I found this a few months later. I came out here to eat one night but decided I still didn't feel like going home so I went exploring the town a little more." He tells you, watching your eyes roll back as you taste the ice cream.

"You've been holding out on me Harrington, you've been coming here for a little over a year and didn't think to tell me their malts are better than ours?" You laugh, pointing your straw at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He chuckles, hands and malt going to the air defensively.  

"So I am really the first girl you brought out here?" You ask teasingly, brow raised.

"You are." He nods, pulling his straw away from his lips.

"I didn't want to take you on any other date I would take anyone else. Especially since I do know you, and know what you like so it's a little easier for me to think of something you would enjoy." Steve says honestly, seeing you blush lightly.

"Steve that is honestly so sweet, and you really don't know how much that means to me." You tell him, watching him stand up.

"Which is why I have one more thing to share with you before the end of this date." He smiles, taking your hand into his to follow him.

"What is it?" You ask him, feeling your heart beat as you talk quietly towards his car.

The feeling of your fingers intertwined for the second time that night, making you want to pass out.

"I didn't tell you anything else we were doing, why do you think I'll tell you now?." Steve chuckles, lifting his face slightly as he bumps his shoulder with yours.

"You're right," you agree while he sets his malt on top of the car so he can open the door.

Both of your fingers lingering when it comes time to let go.

The car ride home felt heavy with tension while you two wondered if you were imagining the tension in the air.

Steve wanted so badly to rest his hand on your thigh, and have you place your hand on top of his to hold him while you two drove back home.

But he wasn't sure if he would be crossing a line.

So he just longed for the feeling of your skin pressed against his.

Driving through Hawkins you glanced over at Steve, confused when his house came into view.

"Just trust me." He tells you, parking the vehicle.

Steve walks past you when you're inside, placing the pizza box on the counter along with the empty malt cups before motioning for you to follow him up the stairs.

Walking up to the hallway of his bedroom, you felt yourself get shaky.

He wasn't trying to get you in bed right?

Not that you would hate to do that, you thought.

But just you thought he would put more effort into it if this was really his goal.

"Steve?" You ask him, slowing your movements behind him.

Steve turns halfway back to see you glancing between him and his bedroom.

"Oh, no no no. It's not like that (Y/N), just keep following me." He chuckles, shaking his head.

He stops at the hallway window, messing around with the screen before it pops off.

"Come on," Steve tells you, placing the screen against the wall before climbing through.

Peering out you felt your heart beat fast as you climbed out onto the flat park of the roof to see Steve leaning back on the tiled roof by the window. Taking a seat next to him you lay down, arms behind your head looking at the stars above.

You two were towards the back of the house, the trees and pool surrounding you.

The reflection of the moonlight bounced off the pool, it was all dark besides the dimmed lights under the water of the pool.

It was peaceful out here, breathing in the fresh air.

"I would come out here during high school to just think sometimes." Steve shares, glancing over.

"It's beautiful, I would of too." You nod, happy he shown you more about him today.

"Well you can come whenever you need, bad date? Come here. Bad day in general? Come here." He shrugs slightly, sighing to himself as he realized the date was soon coming to an end.

"I might take you up on it sometime." You tell him, sitting up to glance down at the pool.

"You know where the spare is, and that my door is always open to you." Steve chuckles, sitting up.

"Is this the last part of the date?" You ask him, bringing your gaze back up to meet his.

"Yeah." Steve nods.

"How about I add something and we go for a swim?" You suggest, tilting your head towards the pool, seeing him raise an eyebrow.

"Are you wanting to go for a swim?" He asks you.

"Yeah, why not? It's a nice night." You shrug, smirking slightly.

"You don't have a swimsuit." Steve reminds you.

"So what? Literally I feel like a bikini is the same thing as my bra and underwear, just different materials." You laugh, standing up to go inside down to the pool.

Pulling off your shirt, you glance down at him.

"You coming?" You ask, seeing him get flustered.

"Ye-yeah" Steve stutters, standing up.

You were right he thought, it wasn't much different besides the materials.

Both of you make it down to the pool, kicking off your shoes before you let your skirt and shirt fall onto the cement.

"Meet you in there Harrington?" You smile, running to jump into the pool.

The water surrounded you as you submerged beneath. Your fingers keeping the air trapped in your lungs while they plugged your nose.

A gasp escapes your lips when you come back to the surface.

Steve was standing there with his shoes and jeans off, nervous about getting it to the water.

"Come on take off your shirt Harrington and get in the water."  You call out teasingly.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He laughs, reaching to pull the shirt off from behind his neck.

You start whistling and hollering as his torso becomes revealed, Steve's face turning red for the millionth time that night.

"You're been working out Steve." You tease, watching him jump into the water.

His tall frame disappearing into the water before coming back up.

"Is that way of you saying I look good?" Steve chuckles, shaking his hair like a dog, causing you to squeal from the water hitting you.

"Well duh, I have eyes. I'm not blind." You laugh watching him splash towards you.

Moving quickly, you scream at the cold water hitting your back.

"Hey, hey, hey. I said let's swim, not splash." You screech, trying to swim away.

"I think you're forgetting you're in the water with a guy who was on the swim team." He laughs, following while he splashes you more.

"Steve, stop." You laugh, turning back to splash him.  

The sounds of both of you laughing and the water moving echoes into the open air.

"Never." He jokes, going to grab your arm.

"Steve don't you dare dunk me." You scream, feeling him overpower you while he pulls you close.

The feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you distracted you as he pulls you down with him in the water before bringing both of you back to the surface.

"God I hate you Harrington." You laugh, wiping the chorine filled water off your eyes.

"No you don't." Steve smiles, arms still wrapped around you.

"Steve, don't please." You scream again, feeling him spin with you in temptation while your arms automatically wrapped around his neck in fear.

"Okay, I won't. But did you at least have fun tonight?" Steve smiles, arms still holding you as he moves in the water.

"I did. Actually, I think it was the best first date I've ever been on." You say honestly, looking up to his eyes. His wet hair framing his face as his grin widens.

"You really think so?" He asks, looking down at you.

"I do." You nod nervously, feeling your back hit the wall of the pool making you realize you were still really close together.

"I wish it could of been like an actual first date though." You laugh shyly,  one of your hands moving to rest on his chest while the other lingers on around his neck to play with his hair lightly between your fingers.

"Do you want to consider it an actual date?" Steve asks, chest moving harshly up and down under your finger tips.

"Would it be alright if I did?" You ask, biting your lip slightly.

"As long as you would let me take you out again," He smiles, his eyes twinkling while the water droplets rolled down his chest.

"On a date date right?" You ask, smirk forming.

"If I'm being honest, I was treating this as a date date." He tells you.  

"I've liked you for a while (Y/N), but I was nervous about asking you out so I thought this was the only way it would happen." Steve continues honestly, picking you up a little higher.

"I've liked you for a while too Harington, and actually thought the same thing about this date. When you offered I thought this may be my only chance to get taken out by you." You smile, wrapping your legs tighter around him.

"Well how about we make up for lost time starting tomorrow with breakfast?" He asks, bringing his face down closer to yours.

"That works for me." You tell him, grinning into the kiss as your lips connect with his.

----- 

Thank you for reading!  

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 3

Battle of the century or kids playing console games...

CW: Unicorn zombie with minor carton gore

Carson: You don’t think this will be too physically taxing do you

Artemisia: Only for losers

Onyx: Don’t worry Carson, there’s no exercise required

Fergus: I dibs the green car

Onyx: Is everyone ready

Artemisia: Oh would you just press start already

Onyx: First round goes to me!

Artemisia: That’s ridiculous, you must have given me the broken controller

Carson: Or you’ve been practicing, I get to pick next track. Strawberry Fields!

Fergus: Oh no I hate that one, I always get stuck in the strawberry jam

Onyx: Just follow along behind me Fergus and you’ll see a clear path okay

Fergus: Thank you Onyx

Artemisia: I always think it’s so funny how well-mannered you are

Carson: I would have thought you’d find that annoying

Artemisia: Nope, it helps us get out of trouble

Onyx: So see here Fergus, if you go between these two flowers there’s the fast launch ramp

Fergus: And no strawberry jam sinkhole!

Artemisia: Hold on, you’re not entitled to win

Fergus: Just try and stop me Emi

Carson: Come on Artemisia, let’s wipe the track with them

Onyx: Team Pancakes!!!

Kayleigh: I like to hear them play, the house is so quiet with just Carson now

Eliza: Bob and I have been thinking of trying for another one after Fergus becomes a teen. Bob would love a daughter

Kayleigh: And how about you

Eliza: Well I’ve never loved being pregnant but a third kid would be nice

Kayleigh: Sweetie I don’t mean to sound indelicate but have you considered adoption

Eliza: Adoption? Is that legal when I can get pregnant?

Kayleigh: It’s the 21st century, just because you can have them doesn’t mean you need to. Not that I can talk, I had four

Eliza: I suppose that way I would avoid the pregnancy impacting on my work

Kayleigh: And if Bob wants a girl you can tell the agency that, but you can’t tell your uterus that

Eliza: *chuckles* Good point, I’ll think about it. Oh, would you excuse me? The markets just opened in Tomarang

Kayleigh: Go ahead, you’ll not beat me at this chess match anyway

Eliza: Thanks for helping me learn more

Kayleigh: No problem, I’ll collect my husband and get out of your hair. Night

Kayleigh: Come on Carson, time to go

Carson: Just let us finish this last race mum

Artemisia: Oh it’s finished and I’m victorious

Fergus: Thanks again for helping me Onyx, I had a lot of fun. See you for my birthday Emi?

Artemisia: Sure thing, Tuesday right

Fergus nods excitedly and the dinner party disperses.

Happy very cloudy Halloween! The Pancakes decide not to have a party since they had one last night and Bob will need to work tonight. After a quick breakfast the household splits up as everyone has their own tasks to do this morning.

Bob of course wants to get his work out in before shift. Fergus is in a patch of hyper focus with his ADHD and decides to play mad scientist in the treehouse. Eliza decides to do a dance workout since she cleaned everything yesterday and finally Onyx is set to walk Ginger again.

Eliza is dancing away when she pulls a muscle in her back.

Eliza: Ouch! Oh, maybe an adoption is a good idea, I will be a 40 soon

Thinking on this she carries on, working on her other muscles. Outside it’s hard for Onyx and Ginger to make out where they’re running but the pair do their best. Ginger isn’t sure why her dad isn’t taking her for these jogs but supposes Onyx is an alright substitute.

Onyx: I’m back home dad, Ginger is all walked

Bob: *grunts with effort* Did you tell your mother

Onyx: No, she’s busy practicing speech and I didn’t want to disturb her

Bob: Smart choice

Onyx begins their cheer routine, they still have some more solo practice to fit in. All is going well until they fall over on their face. They push up looking around but Bob is busy working his legs and hasn’t noticed. To celebrate Onyx pulls off a perfect flip!

Previous ... Next

[livefastdriveyoung]

Takeaways from Testing Day 1

The RB-20 Maintains Status Quo - Max ended a full 1.162 (don't quote me but I think that's the correct math) ahead of Lando Norris in P2. The car did not appear to struggle under its 142 laps. It also remained consistent across majority of the runs. Checo will drive tomorrow.

Aston Martin is being underestimated - Fernando Alonso is a world champion, he started his session in P3. He stayed there for a great deal of the session. Even ending in P8 puts him in the points if this is a race. Additionally, Lance pulled through into the top five, taking P4 for a period of time. He's a strong driver, he shouldn't be underestimated. They both finished in the points, and had Lance not lost his mirror he could have pulled a fast lap.

Williams Car is the problem, not the drivers - I cannot reiterate this one enough. Alex Albon had a fuel pump problem, so entirely out of his control. Logan Sargeant has improved. Undoubtedly so. Not only has he built up his muscle and trained hard, he spun out and still managed to get back onto the track, and sit at P10 for most of the session before ending P11. Allegedly the reason he had a spin out was also because of a gearbox/transmission error. Whether it was the cause or the issue was the result, he held it together well. The car is having problems, not the drivers.

Mercedes Performance - We know that Lewis Hamilton is a strong driver. He's never been the best qualifier when there are competitive cars. Yes, George did not do as well as he could have, ending with P12, but he experienced at least two lock-ups. There's no guarantee that the issues don't exist in Lewis's car as well. We'll see what happens.

The complaint about their front wing design is interesting. F1 and FIA are separate organizations. Mercedes wouldn't blatantly violate the letter of the law, they would be the first team to be called out for it. They follow the letter and have the approval of the FIA. It has been approved. Whether F1's concern about the 'spirit' of the law being violated is something that could impact them, I don't know. I'm sure that the new rules will include a provision against this next year, but any immediate action, I doubt. Symonds is unimpressed.

Haas is not to be thrown out of the running - yet - A new team principal means that there are going to be changes. They straight out said the focus was on the Tyres and not on performance. While they are not a strong team, I think that throwing them away just because you might have preferred Guenther, or like to rely on what you already know, this isn't that. Yet.

Visa Cash-App Racing Bulls - Forget it, I'm calling them V-CARB. Anyway, Daniel Ricciardo, (LOL that autocorrected to all caps which is so funny) had minimal struggle with the car. His first few laps were not great,, but to end in P4 is wonderful. His statements about a podium in the beginning of the season being a dream not a reality is interesting, but I wonder if that is self-deprecation/spreading the party message from within Red Bull's house. Yuki finished P13, but, again, only had a morning slot. He was high up for a good portion of the day as well. I think this is going to be interesting. The narrative that they are not a junior team anymore seems to be accurate.

Stake did well - The C44 is worlds ahead of last year's model. Additionally, we forget regularly that Bottas was a Mercedes driver, he's won Gps before. Zhou is not a bad driver, I think this might be his last season to prove himself because I think Audi will keep someone who has a history of winning, and if the rumors are true, Carlos Sainz will be getting one of the seats. But that might motivate him. He's also young, 24 is below the mean age of the drivers (29) and if he can demonstrate improvements, they might keep him over Bottas.

Ferrari Fights - Buckle down y'all. I don't think that Carlos will do anything to sabotage Charles, he's not an idiot, but he's going to do what he has to in order to prove that Ferrari are losing out on a driver. He was P3 today. Charles is great, we know he can drive, his improvement is clear. I'm curious as to what that is going to look like.

if he's moved on from this, he's going to need to demonstrate to Audi that he can be a First Driver.

Alpine - Pierre pulled P5 right at the end. Ocon is toward the bottom. I'm not sure what's going on in house but nobody is happy allegedly. Guess we'll see.

[crossedsabers10s]

mmmmmmm pookz do you have any words for me to readddddd???????????

I have unearthed this relic from an ancient word doc. It is incomplete, but:

Pouting, Damon tosses his last earring onto the table. It lands next to its brethren, clinking against polished wood. “Stop cheating,” he complains.

He’s losing, which sucks. Losing always sucks, but something about losing to Enzo is especially vexing. Probably because Damon knows the man won’t bring it up, but he will smirk and Damon will just know that he’s thinking about it. Like that time with the snowboards and almost-avalanche. Enzo hadn’t gloated--much--but Damon would look at him and know he was remembering it, but especially the way Damon had finished that race face first in snow.

“Cheating?” Enzo scoffs. “I’m cheating?”

“Yeah. Three straight flushes in a row? At least be more discreet.”

Enzo gestures to the pile of jewelry glittering between them. “And this is good sportsmanship?”

Three sets of earrings and an eyebrow stud glint innocently in the light. “You wear piercings. They count.”

“No,” Enzo tells him. “They don’t. But I suppose I’ll allow it, since you’re so abominable at this.”

“Hey! Fuck you—“

“Maybe later.”

“—I’m great at strip poker!” Damon defends himself. He makes a face at Enzo. “You just cheat.”

Enzo smiles. Damon resists the urge to throw his cards at his stupid face. “Prove it.”

Fangs bared and eyes black, Damon growls. Enzo’s smile kicks up a degree, genuinely amused. Scowling, Damon withdraws his fangs. “I will. Eventually.”

Humming, Enzo reshuffles the cards. Damon tries to keep a sharp eye on him, but is soon distracted by a car approaching. Glancing towards the door, he tries to place the engine but doesn’t recognize it. It cuts off, a door opening then slamming closed. A human heartbeat approaches the house, stopping right at the door. The doorbell rings.

“Expecting visitors?” Enzo asks, sliding Damon’s cards across the tabletop. Damon’s attention snaps back to the other vampire, who offers him a sweet expression. Well, guess he’s losing this hand too.

“No,” he says, not bothering to get up. Hopefully whoever it is will get the hint and go away so that Damon can lose the rest of his dignity in peace.

Besides, they have plans.

The strip poker is more of a time filler, because the club they’re supposed to be going to tonight isn’t open yet, but Damon hasn’t seen his best friend in months and Mystic Falls’ latest Drama™ can wait until morning. Or preferably until tomorrow afternoon, because Damon’s plans include still being clubbing in the morning or at least having spectacular sex. If he doesn’t pass and or black out at some point during the night, then he’s failed his one goal.

The visitor is revealed to be Jenna, who is there to pick up Elena, but Elena and Stefan are still out, so she joins in on the card game while she waits.

With narrowed eyes, Damon reaches up and starts to unscrew the piercing in his tongue.

“Ohmygod,” Jenna mutters to herself. Then she rallies. “You—Uh, you can keep that one over there.”

“Scared of a little bodily fluid?” Damon asks her, but still deposits the little silver ball into an empty bourbon glass.

“I don’t know where you’ve been,” Jenna says, frank.

Wincing, Damon chuckles, “Ouch.”

“Good decision,” Enzo solemnly tells her. He stretches, rolling his shoulders back. Then smirks at Jenna when she has to drag her eyes away.

“So,” she says, just the littlest bit squeakily, “another round?”

Jenna wins. Damon and Enzo are both cheating but she’s great at cards and is taking advantage of them being focused on flirting/bickering with each other.

Did you…? Damon’s tilt of the head asks.

A little wide eyed, Enzo shakes his. No.

Oh. Okay. So Jenna won all on her lonesome then. That’s terrifying. Damon kind of wants to take her to Vegas.

Anyway, Ending A: Stefan and Elena get there in time to watch her absolutely destroy the other two—Enzo’s missing most of his clothes and Damon is too while she’s got the pile by her chair. The two of them enter just in time to interrupt them fully losing their underwear.

Ending B: Stefan and Elena are delayed/Stefan just drops her off at her house and Jenna goes with them to the club.

[defibrillate-the-hidden]

Story

Haven't written a resus story in probably over a decade so be nice, actually doesn't include any resus so more of a whump story? idk felt like writing

"Hi Kelly, my name is Dr. Caldwell. How are you feeling?"

Kelly Walker's eyes darted from the kindly pale, freckled face hidden behind wisps of chestnut hair of the woman standing over her to the bright fluorescent lights of the ER hallway as they slowly rolled her down.

"I've been better," she choked out around the oxygen mask firmly held to her face.

"Well, let's see if we can help improve that a bit. Do you have any pain or discomfort?" she asked, looking over her.

Kelly managed as close to a nod as possible through the straps holding her firmly to the bright orange backboard. "My left hand is numb, my left knee hurts, it hurts to take a deep breath, and my neck and upper back hurt," she explained slowly.

The doctor nodded. "It looks like you might have a few broken bones. Any pain in your chest, abdomen, anything like that?" She gently probed Kelly's abdomen and chest with a stethoscope as she asked.

"No," Kelly responded firmly.

"Okay," she looked up to her coworkers. "Vitals are looking normal. Let's get her into imaging, get an X-ray on the hand, knee, chest, and neck, and we'll go from there."

Two hours earlier, Kelly Walker was curled up on the couch in her family's RV, her Yorkshire Terrier Lugnut sleeping in a ball by her feet.

"Kelly, time to go!" her mother called from the door to her 19-year-old daughter. Kelly tapped the small dog on the rear lightly to stir him and then slid off the couch. She caught a quick glance at herself in the mirror, zipping the front of her cream fire suit to the base of her chest and wrapping her sleeves around herself to hold it in place.

"I really need to get a new colored suit," she commented to her mom as she jumped down the stairs and out the door. "The cream just blends into my skin, and I just look like a mop of dark brown hair and floating green eyes."

Her mother chuckled slightly. "Convince my brother's dairy farm to change the color of his logo and the color of your car, and we'll get you a new fire suit. But no one sees you in the damn thing anyway!"

"They will in the victory lane celebration later," Kelly responded quickly with a mischievous glimmer of confidence in her eye.

Her mother smiled proudly but also a bit suspiciously at her daughter as the two began to climb the small wooden footbridge to the track's infield. The sun blasted the last warm rays of a Carolina summer evening on their backs.

At three-quarters of a mile, Blue Ridge Fairgrounds was one of the longer dirt tracks in the South. A sweeping D oval let the street stocks that ran there run nearly wide open and emphasized keeping the cars' momentum high through the turns. Success here was often seen as a harbinger of success at higher levels of racing, but for Kelly Walker, tonight was its own high point of the season.

The mid-July race during the Blue Ridge Fair was the midpoint of her racing season, one of the biggest under the lights. The multicolored lights of the nearby rides and games from the fair gave the atmosphere a bigger feel than a normal race weekend.

Large covered wooden stands, reminiscent of early 20th-century baseball stadiums, wrapped around the front straightaway and were often filled for the A main on fair weekends, heightening the energy.

Kelly had surprisingly done well in the prior day's qualifying events, putting her car in 7th place out of the 16 that would take the green flag. It wasn't enough to have anyone outside of her whispering about an upset win, but her confidence also did not seem entirely out of place.

The two women arrived at the cream and red street stock moments later as Kelly undid her sleeves and pulled the rest of her suit on. Her father, a burly mustached man of 55, handed her a racing helmet that felt too big on her small frame. She held it firmly to her side as the last notes of the anthem finished over the track's PA system and an excited rumble from the crowded grandstands filled the sticky but rapidly cooling mountain air.

Kelly quickly climbed in through the window, the rest of the world fading as she slipped into her seat, tightened her belts, and pulled on her helmet for the evening. The final wisps of sunlight disappeared beneath the western horizon as the command was given to start the cars, and they rolled out onto the grid.

Along with being one of the more prestigious races of the summer season, it was also one of the longest by mileage. Kelly took long, deep breaths as they ran the pace laps, flexing her fingers over the steering wheel. "Patience," she urged herself as they filed in behind the pace car.

"Just remember, long race tonight. Can't win it in turn one, and it's all about momentum, so we want to be there at the end," her dad's voice cut in over their radio. Kelly nodded in response, though no one could see her. She chuckled quietly to herself, realizing the foolishness of her muted response. She considered responding vocally, but the moment was gone by the time she found the courage to hit the radio button on her steering wheel.

She flexed her fingers one last time as the cars came out of turn four and in sight of the flag stand, a flash of green against the night sky unleashed the cars into turn one.

On her outside, the brown and gold car of Nick Thompson got a good jump going into the turn and got around her for 7th. Kelly slid in behind him and followed as they roared down the back straightaway for turn 3.

The typical nervous energy of a big race seemed subdued as the 16 drivers rode around the early laps nearly single file. It seemed everyone was going to follow their own mantras of patience as they let the first few laps click off.

After 8 laps, Emma Parker, the only other female driver in the race, got a good run to the outside of her brother Jackson coming out of turn 2 and raced him hard down the back straight for 5th. Nick chose to follow her as they entered turn three, opening the bottom for Kelly, who gladly took the opportunity to regain 7th place and hoped Jackson might overdrive his sister into turn one, giving Kelly a chance to pick off all three spots in a single lap.

She was able to pull alongside Nick's car as they got through the center of the corner, but the dirty air off Jackson's rear made Kelly's car understeer and slide up towards Nick's. In a desperate attempt to keep off Nick's car, she input more wheel into the turn, but without the downforce of clean air, the back end of her car became free and lifted out from under her, turning her hard out of the fourth turn.

Kelly's car slid off the lightly embanked dirt towards the infield as she let out a frustrated profanity. She turned hard back into the spin to try and correct it before noticing out of the corner of her eye that she was rapidly approaching an exposed light post wrapped in tires at the base. After a moment of paralyzed indecision, she smartly let go of the steering wheel and went to pull her hands back, keenly aware of only one thing—this was going to hurt.

Kelly had been in many wrecks in her life; she had been driving since she could fit in a go-kart at 4 years old, and none ever felt less jarring or annoying, but this hit was something much harder than even she had expected.

The car impacted the tires just behind the wheel well to her right front in a bone-jarring crunch. The suspension on the front right split almost immediately from the impact and clawed into the tire barrier, whipping the car like a catapult around the light post and ripping most of the front-end housing loose from the car. The rear end dug into the exposed dirt, rolling the car once before it landed hard, practically on the floorboard. There was an audible gasp from the crowd over the roar of the engines as the car came to rest.

Inside the battered car, the wreck was even more violent. The sound of hitting the pole was like a shotgun going off in Kelly's right ear, and the violent whipping of the car as it spun off the pole slammed her into her seat in a way she had not expected.

The whole experience was over in 5 seconds, but it felt like 5 minutes inside the car. There was an eerie silence in the moments after the car came to rest as Kelly started to take note of what had happened.

Her eyes shot open unexpectedly; she honestly hadn't even realized she had been knocked out. There was a sudden rush as she saw the pole approaching, then the ear-shattering crunch as she hit it, and next she was fully aware she was sitting awkwardly in the mangled wreckage of her car. The steering column sat awkwardly against the gearbox, and the whole dashboard had shifted 6 inches to the left, breaking the A-pillar of her windshield.

That was the point where the pain overwhelmed her nervous system. Her left hand fell limp to her leg as the pain overwhelmed her wrist, hips, and knee. Her head, neck, and upper back felt as though they had been twisted in half as she fell back into her racing seat, grimacing in pain. She swore various profanities again as her head rested awkwardly against the headrest of her racing seat.

"Kelly, you okay? Come on, speak to us, kiddo!" her dad yelled over the radio. She wasn't even sure how many times he had said something before she registered the sounds in her ears. She went to reach for the radio button, but the steering wheel was so off-center she could barely reach for it without recoiling in pain.

"Kelly! You okay?!" a track worker asked loudly as he got to her window. He lowered the net quickly as she groaned a forced "ow" in response, her only way to really let anyone know she was awake.

She knew she was slumped over awkwardly in her seat as an older, salt-and-pepper-haired EMT climbed in through the badly misshapen passenger window. Honestly, if not for the immense pain overwhelming her, she would've been impressed with his flexibility.

"Hey Kelly, my name is Tucker. I'm one of the docs here at the track. How are you?" he asked calmly.

"Fuck," was all the labored response she could muster.

Tucker chuckled calmly. "Understandable. Can you give me a little more than that? What's hurting?"

Kelly took a few harsh breaths. "Everything on the left side," she managed to wince out. "Hand, wrist, ankle, knee, back, neck—everything."

Tucker nodded. "Okay, we're gonna get you out of here. Because you're saying your back and neck hurt, we're gonna have to take the roof off and get you on a board, okay?"

Kelly forced herself to give a weak thumbs-up with her right hand, but honestly, it sounded like hell. She wanted nothing more than to climb from the car and crawl under the track surface, never to be seen again. She was physically hurt, but emotionally, her pride was more destroyed than her car. The hours of work they had put in had been for nothing, and her season was over, even if she only had some bad bruises. A small family team didn't have a spare car lying around, and she could see bits of the infield grass through the front of her car where the engine was supposed to be. Even in her damaged state, it was obvious the car was beyond any form of repair, whether they left the roof on or not.

Tucker reached out of the car and then came back in with a white plastic neck brace. "Kelly, I'm gonna put this brace on to keep your neck steady, and then we're gonna help you get that helmet off so it's a little easier to talk to you, okay?" he explained calmly.

She didn't respond; honestly, she was not really in the right space to talk to anyone right now. He worked quickly and calmly, getting the brace on her neck and slowly removing her helmet. With her helmet off, the cool night air hit her face like a brick. Her eyes blinked against the pain, and warm tears burned her eyes and cheeks.

A young woman who couldn't have been old enough to drink leaned into the driver's side window. "Hi Kelly, I'm Becky. I work with Tucker here at the track," the lanky blonde girl said in a thick southern drawl that even took Kelly, a native Carolinian, by surprise. "I'm gonna undo the top of your suit here and just listen to your breathing and your chest, just see how everything's working, okay?" Kelly gave a forced thumbs-up again with her right hand, as if she really had any choice.

Tucker turned away and started working with the EMTs to help remove broken pieces of the car. Kelly turned her attention to that as Becky gently unzipped the top half of her fire suit. She probed the top of her chest gently, but as she reached lower along her rib cage beneath her sports bra, Kelly recoiled with a sharp grimace of pain.

"Oops, sorry hun, I won't touch there anymore. Where's the pain?" Becky asked.

Kelly grabbed a few sharp breaths. "Goes from my side to my back," she labored out.

The rescue team was able to remove the broken windshield without cutting into the car, and the A-post was so badly damaged it easily cut in half. They peeled the frame off the driver's compartment and removed Kelly's belts slowly before sliding a hard plastic board behind Kelly's back. They slowly lowered her back and slid her gingerly onto the backboard. Kelly was surprised how little it hurt to move her.

Unfortunately, strapping her to the board was less forgiving, as the thick nylon straps dug into her shins and forehead. There were small pads on them, but they were of little comfort. Secured to the stretcher, they began to pull Kelly out of her wrecked car. For the first time, she was struck by the silence—there was no roar of the engines, and even the crowd had gone silent. She was unsure if she had gone deaf for a moment until she realized the race had been stopped for the accident, which unsurprisingly did little to help her mood.

She tried to give a labored thumbs-up with her right arm to signal to her family and anyone else that she was okay, even though she knew that wasn't exactly an accurate description of her condition. There was a muffled applause of support from the crowd as her arm moved.

They loaded her quickly into the back of the waiting rig and began to drive off. Becky took a pair of shears to the fire suit, cutting the length of Kelly's left side. The inside of the rig felt like a blast freezer to her exposed skin. Becky snipped away the side of her black Nike sports bra to get to her hurt ribs but kept most of the fabric across her chest for modesty. Tucker quickly inserted an IV into her right elbow so confidently Kelly didn't even notice it was happening until the warm relief of pain medication hit her bloodstream.

It was at this point, with some of the pain subsiding, that she noticed her vision was fuzzy in her left eye, and she closed it softly against the harsh lights. "How ya feelin' there, hun?" Becky asked caringly.

"Better," Kelly let out before taking a sharp breath against the pain in her ribs. Becky lowered an oxygen mask to Kelly's face as they rode smoothly to the nearby ER.

It was nearly 45 minutes before Dr. Caldwell entered the waiting room where Kelly's family sat nervously.

"Hi, you must be Kelly's parents," Dr. Caldwell said warmly, maybe a little fakely and overly prepared, but in the nerves of the situation, not out of place.

"How is she, doc?" Her father asked, clearly nervous of the answer.

"Going top to bottom, she's got a few good bumps. She has a concussion, four dislocated ribs, a bone bruise just above the elbow joint in her humerus, and she broke every finger except her thumb in her left hand. She has a meniscus tear in her left knee and a dislocated ankle. Ultimately, she may need surgery on the ankle, but the rest should heal with rest and time. We're just getting her settled in her room if you'd like to come in and see her. It's going to be a painful few weeks for her, but I expect she should be back to normal in a few weeks or months."

[batsplat]

come on there’s gotta be at least 3 sete/vale rivalry appreciators (you me and pedro acosta)!! haven’t seen 2003-05 seasons in full but mugello 2004 alone was so great.

vale and gibernau finished 1&2 on the same podium SEVEN times in 2003, the only ppl who did it more in a single year (since 2000, was too lazy to look back further) were lorenzo/pedrosa in 2012 when they swapped 1&2 places 9 times on the podium.

I love you anon

listen, I know some people need their rivalries to be more balanced than this, but in terms of actual on-track battles it's like. one of the very best this century. (I'm trying to hold back from calling it the best this century but I don't not believe that?) also some might argue that the 1-2 achievement is even more impressive in 2003 than in 2012, given more riders were capable of fighting for wins and the field spread was way less dramatic. sete's 2003 season in particular is so underrated, man's scoring an average of 17.3 points per race, four wins, 10/16 races on the podium, only two races where he was worse than fourth... serious pace plus consistency! out of nowhere!

anyway, here's every notable on-track encounter between sete and valentino, with * to **** asterisks by how worth watching it is for the fight between those two specifically. (for most of these, of course you can find more details in the sete post and the valentino race recs post.) using italics I've indicated which races are available on youtube (or on facebook, in the case of phillip island 2004):

welkom 2003**: the first race after kato's death, and the one where sete secures his unlikely emotional victory. valentino applied heavy pressure on sete in the late stages, but sete stood firm

le mans 2003***: yes, valentino was unlucky when the race was interrupted by rain - but the resulting battle between sete and valentino in the last few laps in tricky conditions is fantastic. multiple overtakes on the last lap and both riders off-track at the final corner

catalunya 2003*: valentino looked locked-on for the victory until he made two mistakes, the second of which has him go off-track and drop several places to hand capirossi the win. vale finds some crazy pace to catch up with biaggi and sete and pass them both

sachsenring 2003****: valentino gets a big enough lead you think it's surely over... but then sete catches him, leading valentino to let him go by so he can study him from behind. a dramatic final lap that prompts a bit of an existential crisis from valentino

brno 2003****: valentino shows up after the summer break with red hair, a determined smile and a mission. this race is a thriller, a proper dogfight between 3-5 riders with plenty of twists and turns - before the whole thing distils into an all timer of a final lap duel

rio 2003*: valentino sticks behind sete for a while, but it feels like he was just biding his time. once he gets past, he pushes hard and pulls away for a comfortable win

sepang 2003*: the match point race, after valentino had run away with the season post-brno. valentino gets a middling start and has to hunt down sete, but once he does he again pulls away

mugello 2004***: MY BELOVED. this is where the momentum in that season really shifts, courtesy of one hell of a chaotic race. there is an excellent sete/valentino duel in this race, but it's far from the only thing going on. all of it's brilliant

catalunya 2004****: a race long duel! I love catalunya duels because so much of it is about tyres getting chewed up and the riders wobbling and sliding more and more. sete's home race and psychologically a very important race... one hell of a show

assen 2004****: the turning point of the relationship! I still FULLY believe this set up everything that happened next, even if nobody talks about this race any more. the fight slaps!! the last lap slaps!! the podium with bad vibes slaps!! valentino in that presser!!

brno 2004*: sete badly needed a win here, and in the end it's not particularly close. the early battle with those two and biaggi is fun, but eventually sete's newly upgraded honda has the clear edge

phillip island 2004****: the first duel post-qatar curse - so these two now hate each other. it's also a match point race! banger of a start, sete is proper feisty here leaving valentino to hunt him down. banger of a final lap too

valencia 2004*: last race of the season - and even though the title's been sealed up, wouldn't it be nice to get a morale-boosting win to take into the new year? at sete's home race too? ah, you know how this goes. the way valentino gets past sete is pretty funny

jerez 2005****: well of course! again, fierce start, and it takes a bit to get rid of everyone else so it's just those two again. the last lap is something special, as is the post-race drama

catalunya 2005***: back on sete home turf!! and sete rides such a good race, he's really doing his very best - except of course valentino is hunting him down again. there's a brutally dismissive quality to this victory

le mans 2005***: edwards streaks off in front until valentino catches him - and vale's content to sit on his teammate's rear tyre until sete catches them both. the race from there is a joy

sachsenring 2005***: another goody! hayden features quite prominently in this one, and crucially valentino never manages to make a break for it. sete leads going into the final lap

brno 2005***: the fun of this one is in remembering it's sachsenring // summer break // brno... and the duel here immediately picks up again with valentino brusquely cutting past sete on the first lap. really makes it feel like sete is trapped in some sort of a hellish time loop... the end to this one is proper CRUEL

qatar 2005***: one year anniversary of that race and of course sete is desperate to repeat his success. the more of these you watch the crueller they get, not least when it really does look like he's built up enough of a lead. melandri also plays a big part in this one

mugello 2006**: you just know how badly sete would have loved to win this (and so did the commentators). entire race is excellent but sete mainly features in the starting dogfight, not the latter stages

phillip island 2006**: this is a chaos bike swap race and there's a lot going on, all of which is very relevant to the title fight. relevant to this post is that sete and valentino end up fighting for the last podium place on the very last lap. their last duel before sete's career was cut short by injury

obviously, if anyone's looking to watch the full sete/valentino story, there's a few more races you'd have to add in like 2004 welkom, qatar and sepang. anyway, this rivalry slaps. hopefully soon a fourth person can be recruited to the cause

[remcocoa]

hold me tight (like the moon in the arms of the sky)

@cycleprompttuesday: "technology"

also on ao3

after dinner, he makes his excuses and disappears to his room, leaving the others to linger at the table. he can feel christophe’s eyes on him as he walks away, but he does not look back. there’s no need, between them.

back in his room, jonas really does call trine. that had not been a lie, which makes him feel better. he tells her about his training ride that morning and listens to stories of the park that she had taken frida to that afternoon. frida is already half asleep, exhausted from an afternoon of running wild, but at trine’s prompting she mumbles something that jonas can’t really understand through the phone. it makes him tear up anyway.

he tells trine about the race, skirting around the way his heart had leapt up into his throat in the last kilometers, the way it always does during a sprint, when wout and christophe are racing. he doesn’t need to say it for her to know.

jonas lingers on the call, and is just preparing to say his goodbyes when there’s a soft knock on the door. say hello to them for me, trine says. he can hear the smile in her voice, and what did he ever do, to deserve this?

he had told her, after it happened the first time: how so much joy was overflowing in the team at christophe’s win, how he’d gone to the room christophe was sharing with wout, intending to congratulate him, but how he had stumbled on something else, instead.

jonas doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way they’d looked that night in carcassonne, the way christophe had his head thrown back with both pleasure and exhaustion, the way wout had looked at jonas with those dark, dark eyes that were invitation and challenge all rolled into one, and how could he refuse?

of course you couldn’t, trine had said, not in anger but with a laughing lilt to her voice that jonas will wonder at for the rest of his life. your heart is so full of love, jonas. how could i ever keep it all for myself? he had wanted to protest, had wanted to tell her she was wrong, but instead he had just cried. and she had reassured him, over the phone, and then later when she could wrap a hand around his wrist and hold him close.

christophe has changed clothes, and the sight of him at the door, hair still rumpled from a shower and tshirt sleeves pushed up, is enough to make jonas wish it were the last day of camp and not the middle. they can’t, tonight, not the way they might want to, but still he can pull christophe inside and tilt his head up to press their lips together.

it’s not the heated passion of carcassonne, not the hesitant wonder of paris or the emotional release from after madrid and drenthe. this is something slower, softer - christophe’s hand sliding up his back, along the knobs of his spine that will become more pronounced as the season goes along. jonas leans into it, runs a hand up under the brand new tshirt. it’s not as soft as the old one, but it will get there.

the ringing phone startles them both, and they pull apart with all the sheepishness of two teenagers caught fumbling. christophe is chucking as he digs it out of his pocket, showing jonas the screen. he’s impatient, christophe says, fondness in every syllable.

you’re late, wout complains, but on the other side of the camera he’s smiling. jonas leans his head back on christophe’s collarbone, where they’ve settled up against the headboard. wout’s eyes follow the way christophe’s fingers trace patterns on jonas’s shoulder, the way jonas plays with the hem of christophe's tshirt, and they really shouldn't, tonight, but jonas wants to.

wout tells them about the race, in more detail than jonas had shared with trine, probably more detail than jonas really wanted to know. he can picture it - the hectic last kilometers, the pushing and shoving and fighting for position, the slick pavement and the parked cars narrowing the roads even further, the crash just behind them at the finish. jonas shudders, and he feels christophe’s lips press into his hair. a reassurance.

on the phone screen, wout watches them with undisguised longing. that will be jonas, in a few weeks, when the two of them go north to the classics, to cobbles and wind and long months without a shared race. but they can have this, tonight.

they can’t, shouldn’t do anything more - but when wout whispers let me see, neither of them resist. it’s nearly overwhelming, the feeling of christophe’s mouth on him and wout’s voice through the phone, low and gravelly. jonas pictures it, wout wrapping a hand around himself while he listens to jonas gasp.

when he reverses them, pushing christophe back into the pillows and putting his mouth on him until he hisses something in french that has wout groaning, jonas pictures wout here, in bed in teide with them. it hurts a little more every time, the not having, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until christophe wraps a hand around his wrist and pulls him closer.

the clock on the wall ticks away, and dylan will be back soon. christophe will be gone, by then, and wout too, off to dinner and champagne to celebrate the team’s first win of the season. jonas will call trine again, after she has put frida to bed. he will tell her everything, because that’s how it is, between them. he doesn’t deserve her, will tell her that too, and she will just shake her head and smile.

soon, they will scatter to the winds and the demands of the season. but for now, he lets himself be lulled by it, by christophe’s hand in his hair and wout’s quiet voice on the phone and the warmth that fills the room even though it’s still cool, in february in tenerife.

for now, they have this.

[onlyxxbutmymindisolder]

Make It Three - Sk8 the Infinity fanfic, Part 1/4

It was an ordinary Tuesday night for the three of us. The sky was clear, and we were far enough from the city that you could see the stars no problem - that was one of the nice things about Crazy Rock. Skating in the city was great, but skating out there, with the fresh air and the open sky overhead, couldn’t be beat. I couldn’t even remember when Adam found the place. It had been our nightly hangout spot for months. 

But anyway, as I was saying - it was an ordinary Tuesday night. The three of us on our boards, Adam in front as always, Kaoru a little behind him and me a little behind Kaoru and steadily gaining. I grinned as I pulled up next to him, the wind blowing so hard in my face I had to shout to be heard. “Hey man, did you forget to charge your smartwatch? You haven’t talked to it this whole time!”

I couldn’t hear his sigh, but I could feel it in the roll of his eyes. “I don’t activate Carla every time we race. And relying purely on brute strength to win isn’t a bragging point!” he yelled back.

“Last time I checked, you don’t move your skateboard with your mind.” I replied. 

“It’s not just about moving,” he retorted. “It’s about navigating in the best way. Efficiency, not raw speed, you musclehead.”

“Now, now, boys! Less bickering, please.” Adam’s voice echoed up the path, and both Kaoru and I turned in surprise - in the five seconds we had been arguing, he had tripled the distance between us. He bent backwards to look at us two, holding a pose that could not have been easy to balance in, yet he was grinning like it was no sweat. “Or at least don’t leave me out of your conversations! I’m getting terribly lonely up here by myself.”

He shifted his balance to one foot, and then spun around so he was facing us. His back to the path, he held his arms out to the side in a beckoning gesture. “Catch me if you can~!” He pivoted again, and Kaoru and I watched as he receded into the distance.

Kaoru sighed and tapped his watch. “Carla,” he said, bringing it close to his face, “Give me an estimate of the best angle for the turn ahead. I’m going to cream these two idiots.”

I laughed. “Challenge accepted.”

We zipped ahead, using everything we had - Kaoru his brains, me my brawn, and Adam his… whatever it was. He laughed as he rode along the track, dodging obstacles with such precision and ease he looked like he was dancing.

Five minutes later, we all stood outside the entrance to the mine interior, covered in sweat. Our boards were lined up in a row propped against some rocks so they wouldn’t roll off without us. The results of our race were the same as ever - Adam in first, Kaoru and I fighting over second. We did our standard bickering over who had edged out the other in getting to the finish line, then sat down near our boards and started chatting.

Truth be told, I loved that part almost as much as the actual race.

“She’s not just a smartwatch!” Kaoru insisted, holding a hand over the watch as if to shield it from any insults. “She’s an AI that can plot the best path through any course. I’ve fed her the data from hundreds of practice sessions-”

“And yeah, I get that,” I interrupted, “I just think it’s a little weird that you call it ‘she’.”

“She’s very intelligent! I can hold full conversations with her and everything,” Kaoru huffed. Seeing my face, he switched gears and looked to our other friend for support. “Adam, don’t you get it? Carla’s the ultimate practice tool. She could revolutionize skating!”

Adam shrugged, holding up his hands in a gesture of sympathy. “Kaoru, my friend… passion is passion. I won’t dismiss yours.” Kaoru visibly perked up, though only for a second. “Although…”

“Although what?” Kaoru asked, sulkily.

“Doesn’t that take the fun out of skating?” Adam asked. “If you followed this machine’s advice, it would probably take you down a similar path every time.”

“It would be the fastest path,” Kaoru responded. “The optimal one! I could fine-tune my skating and eventually be able to beat even you!”

Adam smiled mysteriously. “A worthy goal. But as for me… I take great joy in exploring all this place has to offer. Every rock, every curve, every divot in the road - each provides a new experience, infinitely! You never go down the same trail twice.”

“That’s a cool way to look at it,” I said. “I guess I don’t think about the track that much. I just react in the moment and bam-!” I snapped my fingers. “My body and board will take me where I need to go.”

Kaoru rolled his eyes. “Brute instincts,” he grumbled.

“Hey. They work about as well as your smartwatch.”

“Wha- They do not!”

“Then how’d I beat you just now?”

“You didn’t! I obviously crossed the line first.”

“You keep telling yourself that, dude, but we both know…”

Hearing laughter, I glanced over at Adam. He was watching us go back and forth with a fondly amused look. “Truly,” he said, “Nights with you two are never boring.” His last word slurred into the beginning of a yawn. That was right - Adam rarely stayed out this late. His family was pretty strict and he couldn’t be caught sneaking out, so he usually went home before the AM. It was nice having him with us for longer, though. I hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble with his folks.

“Anyway,” said Kaoru. “Adam. Weren’t you planning to host S again soon? What’s your schedule look like?”

Adam frowned, which didn’t seem like a good omen. “I’m working on it,” he grumbled. “Some people aren’t being terribly cooperative.”

By ‘some people’, I assumed he meant the staff member he’d roped into helping him sneak out every night. We all owed a lot to that guy, though Kaoru and I had only met him once. He was in charge of the arrangements for the skating competition we’d started a while back, and also technically responsible for coining the name ‘S’ (I think he just didn’t want to risk Adam being overheard talking about skateboarding, which was a ‘hoodlum activity’ according to his dad).

“No rush,” I said. “We don’t need a million other people here to have a good time, right?”

“I guess not,” Kaoru said, shrugging. “I was just curious.”

“I want it to happen,” Adam blurted. “Last time, we drew dozens of people like us. This next time, I want it to be even bigger - a hundred, no, hundreds of competitors. Imagine if we could bring together every skateboarder in Okinawa!” He sighed. “All those who love skateboarding, together in one place… it would be paradise.”

“I dunno,” I said. “Would they all fit here?”

Kaoru lightly whacked my shoulder. “We’re outdoors, idiot. I’m sure we could find a spot for everyone.” He looked the other way. “Is that what you want, Adam? More people? I thought our group of twelve or so provided decent competition.”

“But I want more,” Adam said bluntly. “I want to see what this country has to offer! You two can’t be the only good skaters in Japan.” 

He paused, and took a slow, deep breath. The look in his eyes was far away. “You two are the only ones so far who can keep up with me. On this racetrack, in this world we three share, cut off from everything frivolous and crude… I am myself. And you don’t know what that means to me,” he whispered. “It makes me want more. More of these treasured moments - I want to spend eternity on that board.” He glanced back at our decks propped on the rocks. “I just need a reason. One push, and I’d throw it all away.”

I didn’t respond. He was smiling, but distant - talking to himself more than us. The silence held, and he stayed there for a minute, lost in thought, before (reluctantly, I think) pulling himself back to reality.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” he said, with a soft chuckle. “My apologies. S first - I’ll let you two know when Tadashi figures something out. Until then-” he stood up, “-I should be heading back.”

It was a jarring transition, but hey. Adam had always had a tendency to get lost in his head, so we were used to it. “See you next week?” I asked.

He grinned back at me. “Absolutely. Don’t be late.”

---

With that, Adam was gone for the week. We never saw each other in person outside of our late-night races, and his parents monitored both their home phone and his personal cell phone (which he wouldn’t be able to use anyway, given that his entire day was nothing but private tutoring and family-approved extracurriculars). Yeah, it was weird. But Adam lived in a different world from Kaoru and I - being the son of Mr. Shindo, a famous senator, would do that. Image was everything in that life, and given Adam’s less-than-tame personality, his dad kept him on a tight leash. The family heir couldn’t be caught mixing with the common rabble.

So you might understand why I was surprised to hear from him that Friday in the middle of the day.

“Did you get a note, too?” Kaoru asked as we walked past the school gates.

“Sure did,” I said, holding up the crisp, lightly perfumed(?) paper. “Have to wonder how he got it into our lockers, though.”

Kaoru shrugged. “You know Adam - where there’s a will, there’s a way. I’m curious as to what’s so urgent he felt the need to contact us like this, though.”

“So you’re coming?”

He huffed. “Obviously.”

I gestured to his empty hands. “And you’re not bringing your board?” I kept mine with me at all times. Right then, it was strapped to my backpack, doing the double duty of (1) acting as a weight for building endurance and (2) looking seriously cool (I loved that board).

“The note didn’t say we were meeting up to skate,” Kaoru responded, although he looked unsure. “Adam can barely get a free minute during the day. How would he race us?”

“How did he get the note to us? How long is he planning to talk?” I thought about it. “Actually, he might not be there at all. Maybe he sent one of his staff.”

“Oh.” Kaoru tweaked one long strand of hair that was resting on his jacket, pushing it back. “I guess not.”

He was quiet for a moment. I looked at his perfect poker face, watching as it changed from neutrality to annoyance as I nudged him, grinning. “Are you still coming-”

“Yes. Why would that change anything?”

“Well, you looked pretty excited earlier up until…” I shrugged. 

“I did not.”

“What, so you didn’t want to see him?”

“I didn’t say - wait, I -” He sputtered, flailed for a response, then stormed ahead of me, muttering “Stupid.” The tips of his ears were as pink as his hair.

I let him get ahead of me. I’d probably get kicked later once he calmed down, but for now, all that mattered was that he was too indignant to be disappointed. Better a pissed Kaoru than a mopey Kaoru.

Eventually he slowed down enough for me to catch up to him, and we walked to the underpass in silence. Once we got there, my suspicions were proved correct - Adam was nowhere in sight. A dark-haired guy about our age was leaning against the concrete wall, fiddling with his too-fancy casual clothes and looking like he’d rather throw himself into the pier than spend another second there.

I waved at him and called out. “Hey there! Uh.. we’re friends of Adam?”

He tensed. “Not so loud,” he murmured. He pushed off the wall and met us halfway, glancing around like he expected to see someone watching us from the bushes. 

“I know who you are. Adam wanted me to relay a message to you two. He…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I have a favor to ask you first. You two are the ones closest to him, so…”

I squinted at him. “Wait a second. Aren’t you-” I thought for a second, then snapped my fingers, “-Tadashi, right!”

“You’re the one who organizes S,” Kaoru said, recognition dawning on him.

“We never got to thank you for last time,” I said. “It was amazing. I didn’t think so many people would show up.”

Tadashi grimaced. “Yes. That’s the problem.”

“What is?” Kaoru asked.

“S.”

“Is that what Adam wanted to tell us about?” I asked.

Tadashi sighed. “Please, listen. Of all the skaters in Okinawa, you are the only people Adam has trusted with his secret - his true identity. So you should have some idea of how precarious this situation is. If Adam’s father found out he was sneaking out, the consequences would be…”

“Bad, yeah. He told us he was being careful,” I said.

“Not careful enough,” Tadashi deadpanned. “He leaves too early and stays out too late. His grades have begun to slip, among other things. I can only cover for him so much, and if anybody catches on-” He wrung his hands. “It can’t happen.”

Watching him like that, I felt a lurking sense of unease. I knew Adam’s family was strict, and they would be pissed if they knew what he got up to at night. But the way Tadashi talked about it… it seemed like there was something else going on. Adam never talked much about his life. Kaoru and I knew basically nothing about what went on with his family.

“Do we need to delay our visits, then?” Kaoru asked. “Give him some time to lay low?”

“That was what I was hoping for,” Tadashi replied. “I’ve tried everything to convince him to stop sneaking out for a month, or even just a few weeks, but he doesn’t listen to me. I thought you could talk to him. He trusts you.”

“We can do that,” I said, seeing Kaoru was on board. “When are we gonna see him next? Tuesday as usual, or later, or…?”

“Saturday, if you can make it. The usual time and meeting place.”

I blinked. “Why so soon?”

“He’s found another competitor for S. He wants you two to help vet him.”

“He told someone else about S?” Kaoru asked, surprised. Previously, the three of us had decided together who to invite. 

“I don’t think so. As far as the other skater knows, he’s just being invited to a friendly race. If he proves decently skilled, Adam will invite him to compete.”

“O-kay then,” I said. “If he’s that set on it, then I guess we’ll go along and race the guy. Kaoru, you got any plans tomorrow night?”

“...No,” said Kaoru, looking like he’d bitten a lemon.

“Then we’ll meet him there and talk about the whole ‘not drawing suspicion’ thing. Who knows,” I added, “Maybe this extra race will help get something out of his system.”

“That’s true. He might be more agreeable if he’s in a good mood,” Kaoru replied. “Although, knowing Adam…”

“We’ll try,” I said, nodding to Tadashi. “And again, thanks for everything you’ve done. S wouldn’t exist without you.”

Tadashi didn’t meet my eyes, and barely acknowledged my thanks. “Yes, well.” He shifted nervously. “Adam will see you this weekend. I hope you enjoy your race.” With that, he turned and started walking away. He paused at the corner to glance back and, I dunno, see if we were following him? Then he disappeared from view.

“That was weird,” I said. Kaoru didn’t respond, still staring over the spot where Tadashi had been. I sighed. Between him and Adam… it was a good thing this friend group had one person who didn’t get stuck in their own head.

“C’mon.” I nudged his arm. “It’s getting late. We should go if we don’t want to miss our buses.”

That was an excuse. If we did, I’d just skate back anyway.

[chussyracing]

why no team did well in canada (an opinion/personal rant about canadian GP)

Red Bull Racing: Max had a problematic Friday and partly also FP3 with the ERS system and more set up issue related to the high kerbs. He put it in p2 and won the race anyway. Checo was out in q1, he qualified p16 or wherever. He had a problematic race, contact with Pierre right at the start, damage on the car, getting stuck at the bottom of the field, going through a wet patch, spinning out and ending his race with a crash.

Mercedes. I'm not sure what exactly happened in the house of Mercedes but seeing the interviews makes me feel a bit uneasy. Everyone knows that Lewis would be set aside for important meetings about the future of the team. Of course George is and should be the priority in the team rn, because he will be their main driver from next season. George had a chance to win and messed up slightly. Then he lost another chance that the safety car gave him with an overcut. On the other hand, I'm glad they pitted when they had the opportunity with the pit window open thanks to Fernando, it was a good call to go for fresh tyres - although it was slightly confusing to put Lewis on hards with 10 laps remaining (maybe they didn't have new mediums for him at that point and didn't want to add those which are already a few laps used). Lewis' post race interview was frustrating to hear knowing he struggled so much when it looked like he could go on to win the GP at certain point. (Also George saying Lewis cost him the P2 with that overtake and losing a bit of time with that fight....)

McLaren. Lando started higher so to a certain point it makes sense he should get priority in the race. On the other hand as a team, currently p3 in the constructor standings, you should work together and try to get as many points as possible. When Mercedes got close behind, Oscar was defending and Lando drove just a bit faster to be about 2 tenths over the DRS range for Oscar which made him an easier target for a full team of coworking drivers behind him. And then after, during the last restart when Mercedes had freshest tyres after a double pit stop they did, Oscar was an easy target again. Max had a great start, he got about 3 seconds away from Lando in a short time. Oscar's radio said that the target is protecting Lando's position and defending from behind. He managed fairly well until the contact with George (where honestly, it was a bit opportunistic from George considering Oscar was ahead and closing the gap). And certainly you cannot be fully satisfied with Lando's race either knowing his team had the pitstop ready and knew about the safety car, but made him miss the pit entry while everyone behind pitted. That allowed them to warm up their tyres well before Lando came out slipping on the fresh slicks a lap later - something which cost him a position at least.

Ferrari. This one is obviously a disaster start to finish. Both cars out in q2 after a set up that favoured wet conditions for dry quali. Last time i felt happiness was when Charles got two positions at the start. Ever since he got the engine issue which just kept getting worse and worse each lap and he was losing over 1,5s on straights alone, he was slower than Williams and at one point even Sauber. It was like he had negative drs and his braking references were all of and changing to worse as he went by. It kind of made sense to do a call for hards (if only they did it a little bit later on when it wasn't supposed to rain anymore). It also made sense to reset the system as he stopped and hopefully resolve the issue (and again to be fair, it got slightly better). Sadly, the timing was very unfortunate with the weather conditions, he was losing too much and had to pit once again for inters. My personal opinion is that they changed his engine between friday and saturday (because he already has quite a lot in his pool of components and it makes sense to use an older engine with more mileage during a free practice to preserve the newer ones for the important sessions). One point to Carlos for not immediately calling for the positions to get swapped with Charles when e fell behind him. Carlos was over-performed by his teammate this weekend and that's ok, but he fell to p15 at the start and then later on gained one position over Logan. There was still a chance for points at least if only he didn't slip, spin into the grass and crash into Alex. The damage was too substantial to continue, and even if they could fix it, the chance for points was pretty much lost.

VCARB. Daniel started sooo high up in p5 or something?? And they fumbled it so bad. He had a false start and got himself a 5s penalisation for it which hurt his race a lot. As much that Yuki got in front of him at a certain point of the race. What the team did was encourage Daniel to fight for that position with Yuki directly. Ultimately, he was the one to miss the turn and spin out of points on his own, but it was heavily encouraged by the team's decision.

Alpine. Pierre had a bad start with the collision with Checo. That hurt his race significantly as he fell all the way behind Esteban who started much lower with his 5 places grid penalty from Monaco. As the drivers slotted behind each other, Esteban was ordered to let Pierre by in hopes he would catch up with a car in front (was it a VCARB? i cannot remember), which he didn't. At the end Esteban asked to change the positions back which is common practice - he didn't get a positive answer for that though.

Haas. They did such a good job with the initial call for full wets while others started on inters. Kevin climbed up all the way to p4 and Nico climbed out to p6 (or was it p8) after being out in q1 the day before. Then they stopped Kevin to change to inters (once again a good call) and it went down from here. They didn't have tyres ready for the pit stop and he lost out a lot of time in pits. Nico was left out to die on the wets basically and when he pitted, he already lost a big part of what he gained by then.

Sauber. What a bad weekend at the start with two crashes by Guanyu and a spin from Valtteri. As if that wasn't enough, they had to change the spec of their wins to a different one which is contradictory with the parc fermé rules - that gained them a pit lane start for both drivers. They were fighting at the back of the field and went through another horrendous pit stop which killed any idea for points for the team.

Aston Martin: probably the only team that didn't mess up too bad. Lance has been doing relatively well, only touched the wall of champions once in quali and was doing very well during the race. Fernando has been coming out of two terrible weekends, he seemed to be doing like a fish in the sea with the wet and colder conditions in Montreal. If his team did a bit better job in the pit stops, he wouldn't have lost a position on track in favour of Lewis (because Mercedes had a great pit stop).

Williams: oh dear, if the missing chassis and spare parts from 2023 cars weren't enough, then this race sure was. The quali was quite good to them, both got out of Q1, Alex even got into Q3. There was a slight chance of getting into points with both cars seeing they had the pace at the start of the race. Sadly, Logan didn't have too good of a start. Logan crashed slightly and caused a YF. He could continue though. Later on he crashed again and it ended his race and neutered the pace for the rest of the field. Alex was unable to do anything to avoid the collision with Carlos who spun out in front of him and the contact ended his race as well and brought out another safety car.

TLDR: no team can be seen as a winner, although McLaren, Mercedes and Aston Martin all did pretty very well.

As a fan of course I like a bit of unpredictability and getting proved wrong when I was to guess a result of a race. I love LOVE multiple winners, as many as possible in a season. The rest though? The visibility on the first lap, the multiple cars crashing out... that's not it.