#Norris calls for of F1 red flag calls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thelostconsultant · 5 months ago

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Let her go

pairing: Lando Norris x MotoGP rider!reader

summary: You have a massive crash on a weekend when you're both racing. And that crash was really massive.

warnings: major character death (surprise, surprise)

Every time your race weekends took place at the same time, you both promised to watch the other’s sessions live if they weren’t at an ungodly hour that would screw up your sleep schedule, and in every other case you would watch it later when you had the time. It worked well so far, and this weekend wasn’t any different. You were both in Europe, the sessions’ start times were aligned perfectly to make sure fans could watch both F1 and MotoGP.

Lando was sitting on a couch in front of a TV, watching you make it into Q2 from Q1 with the best lap time with a proud smile on his face. Some members of the team joined his little watch party, although he knew perfectly well most of them had their favorite riders, who weren’t necessarily you. But it didn’t bother him. He was one of your biggest fans, and the same way you were one of his.

Four minutes into the qualifying you were in P6, a decent result that would give you a second row start, but there was time for several flying in the remaining time, so he knew you had to improve in run two to keep that position. The Ducatis were fast, and you were riding a GP23 that wasn’t as fast as the newest model, but still gave you a chance to fight for a first row position. Well, Marc was there to snatch it again, but maybe you would stand a chance against the eight-time world champion if you put together one amazing lap.

It was your first flying lap in run two when the cameras began to follow you. You were pushing yourself hard, it was clear, but you had a great first sector and at the moment you were estimated to finish in P2. But then he saw you being catapulted off your bike, landing on the track while the vehicle crashed into the barrier on the side of the track behind the gravel trap. Lando’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for you to jump up and walk away, but you didn’t move.

At all.

The race was immediately red flagged and luckily the other riders noticed you in time and didn’t hit you to make things worse. But the cameras quickly turned to find other parts of the track and the pit lane, the only thing shown related to the accident being the reactions of the team in the box and on the pit wall. Lando could feel his colleagues’ gazes on him, everyone sitting in heavy silence as they waited to find out what was happening. He sent a message to your assistant to make sure she called after getting any news about you, but according to her no one knew anything.

After fifteen long minutes his phone rang, and as if the others could sense he wanted to be alone now, they left without a word. “Hey, you have news?” he asked, voice trembling badly.

The young woman on the other end of the line took a deep breath, then said, “She was airlifted to the hospital. It’s bad, Lando. We’ll only know the exact details after they examined her there, but she’ll be in surgery for a long time apparently. The doc said there might be a spinal injury among the other things. I’m about to book a flight for her parents so they can be there with her.”

He gulped in hopes this could hold back his tears. Your job was dangerous, he had always said those guys in MotoGP were crazy, but having to witness the love of his life crash like that was a little too much. He always assumed the worst that could happen to you was a broken bone in your hand or a cracked collarbone, but a little metal could fix that, just as it had fixed dozens of riders on the grid over the years.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you keep me updated?” he asked her.

“Sure. FP3 is coming up for you, right? Be careful, the last thing we need is you getting hurt too.”

They said goodbye and Lando leaned back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. She was right, his next session was just about to begin, but how could he focus on driving when you were in such a bad condition? Maybe he would get in, then get out if his head wasn’t in it. There was no reason to force this.

He felt the couch shift on his side, and when he looked over there, he noticed Oscar sitting next to him with a worried look in his eyes. “I heard what happened,” was all he said.

Lando let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand through his curly hair. “I don’t wanna be here, I wanna be there with her,” he said, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep the tears back. “I’m so stupid, I always thought she was invincible, but in reality she is so fragile, I don’t even know how I could assume she would never get hurt.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” his teammate began as he put a hand on his shoulder. “This was a terrible accident, nothing more. She’s in good hands, there are great doctors there.” When he nodded, Oscar forced a barely visible smile on his face. “I have an idea. Spain isn’t that far away, maybe you could fly there after qualifying, and come back tomorrow before the race. Maybe seeing her could help you focus on driving again.”

It wasn’t such a bad idea, it could actually work, so he nodded and jumped up, moving towards the exit without saying anything. He could hear Oscar following him without missing a beat, and the Aussie soon caught up with him as they headed to find Zak in hospitality where he was last seen. Lando could feel everyone’s gaze on himself, so he assumed the news of your accident had spread like wildfire in the paddock. A journalist tried to approach him, but his teammate was kind enough to get him to leave with an annoyed come on, mate.

Zak was chatting with a VIP guest, but the moment he noticed them arrive, he excused himself and walked over to them. “I heard what happened. How is she? Do you know anything?” he asked worriedly.

Lando shrugged as he tried to find the right words to say. “All I heard is that it’s bad, there might even be a spinal injury.”

“You think you can focus on driving?”

With a nod, he looked down at his hand. “I’ll get in, do a few laps, and we’ll see. I don’t want to miss the weekend unless…”

“Don’t even think about that,” Oscar was quick to say, understanding what the rest of the sentence was supposed to be. “Zak, I’ve been thinking. What if he gets on a plane after qualifying, goes to Spain to see her, then returns tomorrow before the race? Maybe it would be good for him.”

Looking over at his teammate, Lando couldn’t help but feel grateful for his calm personality. He could think straight in even the most stressful situations, and now he could sense that he wasn’t in the right state to come up with these ideas. And Zak seemed to be understanding, because he nodded and agreed to let him do it.

From Lando’s point of view, the practice session just… happened. His head wasn’t in it, he only focused on testing a few settings just to see how the car felt and reacted, but he only did one or two fast laps. Between runs on the track, he kept checking his phone to see if there was any news, but all he saw was a message that you were still in surgery with no new information about you.

Shortly before qualifying, he gave your assistant a call to tell her he would fly there soon, but he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like this. Because she was crying, her voice muffled as she talked, and he had trouble understanding her. Then there were words exchanged in the background, and the phone was obviously taken by someone who wasn’t a crying mess. It was your crew chief, he recognized his voice when he greeted him, but it was also full of sadness.

He knew something was terribly wrong, and he felt nauseous at the thought. “What’s going on?” he managed to ask after some silence.

The man on the other end of the line took a deep breath. “She’s out of surgery, but… she’s hooked on machines and the doctors say she’ll stay that way. The staff in the medical center assumed she only had a severe concussion, but tests showed that the brain injury was much more serious than expected.”

“No.”

“Her parents aren’t here yet, but we talked to them the moment we got new info. They understand what’s happening, and they wanted us to tell you they will wait for you to get here tomorrow so you can say goodbye before they turn off the machines,” he said, his voice cracking by the end.

Lando felt like fainting. His head was spinning, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, but at the same time his body froze entirely. He just stood there in the back of the garage, staring straight ahead as he thought about what he should do. It was only after a minute or two that he took a deep breath and said, “I’m going there right now.”

But Paolo was quick to speak up again. “Lando, listen, she would want you to get in that car and go on with the weekend as if nothing happened. You will come here tomorrow after the race, and you will have time to let her go,” he said, forcing himself to keep his calm.

“What do you mean let her go? Apparently everyone, including her own parents, gave up on her. There has to be at least one person there who fights for her, because the doctors need to do something to fix her!” he yelled into the phone, earning a few worried looks.

“Listen, there’s no fixing her. She’s brain-dead. If it weren’t for the machines, she wouldn’t be alive now.” Silence fell between them, and it was your crew chief who broke it. “Lando?”

“Fuck this,” was all the Brit said before ending the call.

His vision was blurred by the tears, but he wiped them away and headed to where Zak was talking to one of the engineers. At this point he wasn’t about to take no for an answer, so he approached him with the intention to state his intention to leave immediately before actually doing so. When his boss’ eyes fell on him, it was clear that he knew something was wrong, because the moment he got there, Zak grabbed his arm and gently led him to a more private part of their garage.

He didn’t say anything, only waited for his driver to talk to him. But Lando hesitated, having absolutely no idea where to begin and how to tell him the truth about you. Paolo had been right, you would want him to continue, but how could he do that when they were ready to pull the plug without trying to make things right? There had to be something they could do.

Zak seemingly had enough of the silence. “What’s wrong? Bad news about her?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

Lando nodded. “They say she’s brain-dead and can’t be saved,” he said, once again fighting his tears. “I–I don’t think I can do this. The qualifying, the race, the whole fucking media circus… I just can’t do it, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, try to calm down. Get in the car, do a few laps, and see if you can focus on that. Maybe it will even help you clear your mind,” he tried, but all he got in response was a murderous look. “She would understand if you arrived a few hours later. Just like we agreed; you go there after qualifying, then return tomorrow before the race. We need points to beat Red Bull this year. We need you on the track, Lando, even if it sounds terrible now. Dedicate this weekend to her.”

He agreed, but only because of you. Only because the people around the two of you were right, and as a professional athlete you would focus on your race too. So, he did everything he could to focus, he pushed himself to the limit, and eventually managed to finish the qualifying in P2. First row behind Charles. You would be proud. Their press officer warned the reporters that they should not ask questions about you, so he could focus on the session alone, although mentally he was already on his way to the airport.

A few hours later he met your assistant in the hospital’s lobby after fighting his way through the army of photographers and reporters outside. She guided him to the room you were in without saying a single word, and when you reached the door, she stayed outside, even though everyone was inside. He gave her a questioning look when he turned back, but she only shook her head and wiped away her tears.

Your mother jumped up and hugged him tightly when she noticed him, and your father also stood up to do the same. Lando didn’t know what to say, but neither did your parents. Paolo was watching him with a worried look in his eyes, the memory of their previous conversation probably vivid in his mind. But he wasn’t about to make a scene. He had time to think, he had time to do some research, so now he understood the chances of you coming back to them was close to none.

With hesitant steps, he walked to the side of the bed and took your hand, his thumb massaging your skin the same way he had done so many times in the past. But now you wouldn’t react, you wouldn't wrap your delicate fingers around his hand with that adorable smile on your face. He started crying, for the first time letting himself go and not holding it back, and he began to tell you between sobs how sorry he was for not coming sooner, for all the times you fought over stupid, meaningless things, for not proposing before it became too late.

He told you how much he loved you, how he couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else the same way he loved you. Then he leaned down to kiss your lips, probably for the very last time, and he kept repeating I love you like it was a mantra that kept him sane.

After God knows how long, your mother put a hand on his shoulder to make him look at her. By now he had stopped crying, but after seeing her watering eyes, he had a feeling he would be crying again soon. Because he could tell what was coming, he could feel it in his bones. That grave sadness in her eyes could only mean one thing, and even though he wasn’t ready to hear it, he paid close attention to every word.

“I think it’s time to let her go,” she said hoarsely.

To his own surprise, Lando nodded and let her take his place, then he stood in a corner and watched as your parents said goodbye to you. He didn’t want this, he couldn’t accept that he lost you, but a rational part in his mind told him it was over, and it was time to let you go. Your mother was right, it was better to turn off the machines now, because seeing you hooked on them for a few more days would only drive them crazy.

He said goodbye to your parents in the hospital after the doctor announced the time of your death and went to his hotel to spend the night crying and suffering on his own. He saw the messages on his phone, and he noticed the way their number increased after your team announced your death on official channels. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone, and even at the race the next day, he avoided everyone as long as he could. If he talked, he only talked about the car and the upcoming race, everything else was a taboo at the moment.

On the track he was powered by his rage, which resulted in a couple of aggressive moves, but in the end, he managed to win the race. When he stood in front of the reporter after getting out of the car, he was terrified of a question regarding you arising, because he was damn sure he would break down at that very moment, but apparently his press officer had previously told them not to bring it up. So, all he said was a simple I did it for her at the end and nothing more.

It would be a long process to move on, he knew that.

His parents told him to come over until the funeral so he wouldn’t be alone, which would surely help him calm down a bit, then he would lock himself up in his home and his focus would shift back to racing again. But deep down he knew he had to let his friends close again too, because they kept assuring him that they were there, and he could always count on them. Maybe that was the key. Maybe letting others support him would speed up the grieving process.

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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procrastination-queenie · 1 year ago

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It's just an inchident | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Synopsis: you love dotting on Lando

Lando doesn't appreciate you over-feeding him.

Warning(s): Takes place during the car crash at the Vegas GP. Lando is self-critical. Toothrooting fluff, isn't that what you call it? High Lando, don't ask me, but he gave me high vibes in those photos after the crash (hope he's feeling better tho. 🥹) Hints of reader being a foreigner (dunno if this should be put as a warning!)

Author's note: I don't know anything about health care or medical field, so just excuse my lame ass medical justifications. Also some of the comments mentioned in the Smau and the story line are 100% from real life.

"Oooh, yellow flag at turn 14"

"It's a red flag now."

"Is that an accident or .... oh it's an accident.

"Oooh my God. Is that Mclaren?... It's Norris."

"That's lando Norris. Oh my... what an ..."

You heart was beating so loudly in your chest as you kept monitoring the small screens closely waiting for Lando to get out.

Eyes wide, hands covering your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming as you looked at his engineer. "Is he okay?" His engineer was trying to reach him "Lando are you okay?" There was no answer for a few seconds. The cameras of the F1 monitoring your response to the accident closely. Just when you were about to lose it, take off your headset and run to the crash site, lando's mic started working. "I'm fine" you immediately looked back at the screen, not believing him because it showed; it was obvious in his voice that he was not fine, the way he grunted in pain and how his hand was shaking when using the buttons on the wheel of the car, all of it told you that he was not fine.

You were still frowning deeply when they replayed the moment the car was almost on fire and how he was trying his best, very quickly, to control the steering wheel, but in vain. You felt helpless watching as you tried to imagine the gravity of it and how he must be feeling right now.

"Y/n" you looked away from the screen about to ask them where Lando is, so you can go see him. "Y/n, they're going to take lando to the medical centre." You were about to panic even more when his engineer assured you. "It's just for check up, don't worry. They said he's fine. They just want to make sure," you nodded; however, this didn't calm you one bit. What if they checked and turns out there's actually something to worry about?

You grabbed your jacket and bag and headed to the hospital right away. His coach, Jon, went with you to the hospital. You were anxiously waiting in a room until they rolled lando on a bed into the room,with machines and wires attached to his upper body.

"Hey baby" he dragged the last syllable, which made you look at him funny then turn to the doctor. "Ugh, he's on some medications to get him relaxed,he was shaken up from the whole thing." You looked back at poor Lando to find him nodding in agreement with the doctor. "Okay, then I'll leave you to it, he shouldn't be staying for long anyways. We will keep him for like an hour maximum to make sure there are no side effects after the accident."

"Why does he look ... loopy?" You gently hit Jon's shoulder who chuckled lightly at your cute way of reprimanding him. You shook your head as you sat next to Lando. "Are you okay, baby?" He nodded looking up at you like a baby that needs attention. You chuckled at his behaviour he was definitely acting loopy.

"Does anywhere hurt?" You inquired trying to get him to talk. He nodded. Your face fell for a second, worried that the doctor might have missed something when checking on Lando. "Where?" You scanned the rest of his body quickly before looking back at him for an answer. "Here" he said pointing at his heart. You frowned in a are-you-serious-mannar that got Jon erupting in laughter at Lando's lack of awareness due to the meds. "Shut up!" You said shaking your head as you looked back at lando who was all pouty, yet had this look in eyes that was expecting something from you.

"No, lando. I am being serious." You held his hand while the other played with his hair which got his eyes fluttering a bit. "Is there anything that's hurting you?" You leaned into him whispering. He huffed in annoyance. "YES, yes there is. Your lack of affection is hurting me woman. Just give me a kiss and I'll feel better." You were surprised with his behaviour, what kind of meds did the doctor put him on?

Again you heard Jon try his best to supress a laugh, but you ignored him this time, rolling your eyes. You were really worried, usually when things like that happened during a race, Lando doesn't take it easy on himself and he jumps right away at any opportunity to criticise his performance;however, you were thankful that the meds have eased his nerves a bit for him to actually think about what happened. "Am I going to keep on waiting for too long?" The bratty side was starting to show which made you laugh.

"What are you laughing about?" He asked in amusement totally unaware of the presence of his coach in the room as well. "Nothing,... you're just ... I don't know. You're acting like a baby." You answered between fits of laughter. "Yeah, but I am your baby right?" His tone completely changed from sassy to worried which made you look at him in awe. You couldn't deny him any longer, honestly who would? You leaned into him slowly only to see him close his eyes really fast preparing for your kiss. This made you find difficulty in holding your laughter back, but lando has had enough so he pulled you in for a kiss that literally almost took your breath away. His hand was warm over your cheek. He let go and removed his hand from your cheek and leaned on his back to rest, leaving you speechless. "Wasn't that hard was it?" His sassy side was back.

You blushed while laughing, which in return made lando beam at you in happiness. You rested your head on his shoulder, "I was so worried about you." You said. "I know, but I am fine now" he said planting a kiss on the crown of your forehead. You tried to shake away any thoughts of a more aware lando that you will definitely have to deal with later as you lost yourself to sleep.

True to his words, the doctor returned back with the news of releasing Lando from the hospital. You were helping lando put on some clothes since he hadn't changed out of his race suit, yet. He was pulling his grey hoodie over his head when he winced, "What's wrong?" You asked, concern evident in your voice. "Nothing just remembered I have to comment on the crash." It was evident from his tone that he was starting to sober up from the meds. You dreaded what he was going to go through. "Lan, please take it easy on yourself,hm?" You said patting his cheek before giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. He nodded with sleep glossing over his eyes, he must be really tired; he also didn't get to rest well because of the jet lag.

"Lando, lando, lando"

There were some reporters waiting outside of the medical centre for lando as you both exited along with Jon and the security team.

"Lando what do you think of today's incident?" One of them asked putting the mic as close to Lando as possible.

"An unfortunate end to our Las Vegas GP weekend," he said. "I just bottomed out on the restart, lost the rear and hit the wall. Not the way we wanted the weekend to end, especially considering the pace looked promising on Oscar’s side."

Jon queued that it was time to leave, so lando gave them a final word before heading off.

"Big thanks go to the medical staff for checking me over, and to the team for the work they’ll now put in on the car. One week to reset and go again for the season finale in Abu Dhabi.”

"Of course, thank you for you time Lando. Hope you feel better, mate." Lando nodded as he got escorted away and into the car with you. He rested his head into your lap the moment he got into the car.Your hand immediately took place between his soft curls. Lando hummed quietly dozing off to sleep since he was super tired.He had to be woken up again when you both arrived at the Hilton. He refused to let you go, even during the lift ride, almost most of his weight was on you as he leaned into you. You reached your room quickly, and helped him into the bathroom. "Lando, baby please wash up first while I get you something to eat yeah," you gently requested of him before you let him go. He wanted to protest, but you were not hearing any of it; not only was he jet lagged but he hadn't had any proper meal today.

It seemed that Lando opted for a quick shower since you heard it running as you changed out of your clothes. He finished by the time the food arrived to your room. You both ate in bed under the covers, the t.v on for background noise, none of you paying attention to it. You tried to talk with him, not wanting to leave him to his harsh and self critical thoughts. "feeling better,baby?" Lando nodded quietly munching on his fries as your fingers coiled his curls in place. You didn't miss the way a small smile made its way on his lips, he loved it when you played with his hair. It just made him weak.

"I am sorry you couldn't be proud of me tonight. You didn't even get to enjoy the race." You frowned at his words that he said after a few seconds of silence. "Lando," you placed your plate aside and turned to him fully so you can face him. "You know that you always make me proud. Always. No matter what the result is." You looked into his eyes to show him how sincere you were. "Lando, even if you weren't an F1 driver, I'd still be proud of you no matter what." You tried to comfort him. He didn't deserve it. What happened wasn't even his fault, and Andrea mentioned this to the media, as well. "All I could think about when that accident happened was your safety." You almost teared up thinking back to how he must have felt in that moment and the panic that showed through his hand and head movement, how he must have been taken aback by it all. "Baby, don't cry now," he said, putting his plate aside as well. "No, Lando, don't. Because it really tears me up inside how you can be so judgemental towards yourself," you said, gently moving his hand away from your face that was trying to wipe away your tears. "Baby, you're amazing, and I am sure that one day you'll be as amazing as all the drivers you have ever looked up to and even more. I just know it. Just please don't do this to yourself. It's always a team effort, not just one person, and I know that you always give it your all, so just please don't be so harsh on yourself because you don't deserve it." Lando nodded as he came closer to give you a hug. "I am sorry, I didn't know I was being such an ass." He said. "You're not being an ass to me. You're being an ass to yourself, and I really hate it when you do that." You sniffed, hugging him back and hiding your face in his neck. Warm breath teasing his neck, which made him giggle a bit, made your heart flutter. "Ah, how did I get so lucky," he said under his breath, but you heard him. "I love you so much." You said, looking up into his pretty eyes. "I love you too, baby." He said before kissing you.

"Now, eat." You said gesturing with your head towards his plate. "Nah, I wanna cuddle instead."

"Lando, eat first and then we can cuddle."

"Ugh, fine. So bossy," he muttered.

"Ugh, so sassy." You copied him as he gave you a side eye.

You both erupted in laughter. "Love you," he said focusing back on his food.

"Love you to the moon and back," you said

"Love you more,"

"No, I love you more,"

"No, I love you even mo-" he was not giving up, but you had to make sure he was well fed. "Lando, finish your food, or I swear to God..."

"Fine, fine woman jeez... why can't you just reciprocate my love," he mumbled again.

"Landooo,"

"I am eating, I am eating, see," he said with a mouth full of fries. You laughed and shook your head. How did you even end up with this dork, you thought.

________________________

Instagram

LandoNorris

Liked by Your Username and 1,950,465 others.

Rough day. Big impact. But feeling okay! Thanks for all of the messages ❤️ See you next weekend

Comments:

Mclaren: 🧡🧡🧡

Zedd: Glad you're alright brother!❤️

Charles_leclerc: Feel better mate!

Maxverstappen1: why do you look like you're high?

↬Your Username: that's because he was indeed high 🥴

↬Landonorris: I was not 😳😳😳

↬Your Username: yes, you were. I have proof. Jon has a video of you.

↬FanUserName1: I wanna see it sooo bad.

↬FanUserName2: me too.

↬Danielricciardo: me three. 👀

↬Landonorris: Fuck off, Daniel.

Y/UserName

Liked by landonorris and 1,783,631 others.

He's feeling better and that's all that matters. Always proud of you, love.💋

Comments:

Carlossainz55: yeah, right feel better, love 💋🙄

↬Your Username: Carlos, I swear to God, i will not tolerate the attitude just because you're Latino.👊🏼

↬Carlossainz55: oh no I am so scared. 🙄

↬Your Username: @iamrebeccad come get your boyfriend.

↬iamrebeccad: Carlos, I've had enough. Honestly stop it. I have to run around in the comments to stop this nonsense more than I run around from one city to the other for your races.🤦🏻‍♀️

↬Carlossainz55: mi amour, not you too.🥲💔

↬iamrebeccad: feel better guys, hopefully it won't happen again.🥹 @landonorris @/your username.

FanUserName1: oh my God, Rebecca dragging Carlos through the comments.😂😂😂

adam_norris_pure_electric: ❤️

*your username and Landonorris reacted to this comment *

FanUserName2: take care of him please.🥹🙏🏼

FanUserName3: We love you landinho, get well soon 🇧🇷 💛💚💛💚

OscarPiastri: Feel better, Lando🥹

↬Your Username: dw, I am taking good care of him.😁

↬LandoNorris: yeah, she's keeping me well fed.

↬FanUserName4: I knew it!! y/n's type of love is acts of service. Imagine her feeding lando and how she would act if he said that he's full.

↬FanUserName5: I don't wanna know tbh. The paps got a photo of her this one time when he refused taking any more food when they were out on a date,and she looked like she was one minute away from smashing the plate over his head.

↬Your UserName: in my defense he was not eating well, and I couldn't leave him like that without food.🤷‍♀️

↬LandoNorris: WITHOUT FOOD?!!😳😳😳 Babe you made me eat my whole plate and half of yours, i wouldn't count that as no food.

↬Your UserName: Sweetheart, back in my country this counts as a little girl's appetite.

↬Danielricciardo: hahaha she just roasted you on national t.v.🤣🤣🤣

↬LandoNorris: @Heidierger_ come get your bf. 😑

↬FanUserName6: What's with athletes having their gfs come collect them from this comment section ?! 😂😂😂😂

Mclaren: Take a deserved rest. We still have Abu Dhabi coming up. 🧡💪🏼

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passengerprincessblog · 3 months ago

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“Intern” - Pt 2 Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: On race day, Y/N finds herself exhausted from a chaotic morning, only to be pulled back into Max’s orbit after his frustrating third-place finish. While delivering a post-race message to him, Y/N notices a crack in his usual arrogant demeanor, revealing a vulnerability she’s never seen before.

Race day is chaos—unrelenting, loud, and full of an energy I haven’t quite learned to navigate yet. From the moment I stepped into the garage that morning, Adam had me running papers, fetching forms, double-checking interviews, and troubleshooting issues I wasn’t even sure I understood. My head feels heavy, my feet ache, and the race hasn’t even started yet.

I manage to steal a moment to myself, slipping away from the suffocating frenzy of the garage to the hospitality area meant for the general public. The crowd is massive today, buzzing with excitement, and the energy radiates into the air like static. I weave through the sea of fans, my head down, my nerves steadying slightly as I finally grab a coffee.

It’s not great, a little too bitter, but it’s hot, and I savor the moment. Walking past the rows of motorhomes, I can’t help but admire the setups—the flags, the sleek exteriors, and the buzz of people that surround each team. It’s the kind of thing I used to dream about when watching F1 on TV, but living it is something else entirely.

“Where’d you get that?” a familiar voice calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glance up to see Lando Norris striding toward me, a teasing smirk plastered across his face.

I smile back. “Out there,” I reply, motioning toward the exit where the fans and food vendors are.

He raises his eyebrows, looking mock-impressed. “Wow. You actually ventured all the way out there?” His voice is full of playful disbelief, and I can’t help but laugh softly.

“Shut up,” I say, my face heating up as I remember how much I’ve mentioned avoiding crowds before. It’s not that I hate them—I just don’t love being in the thick of things.

Lando chuckles, nudging my shoulder lightly. “No, seriously. I’m proud of you. Growth.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I reply, rolling my eyes at him.

For a moment, he watches me with an amused smile, but his expression softens slightly. “You seem busier than usual. Saw you running around the media pen yesterday—looked intense.”

I shrug, suddenly aware of how tired I must look. “Yeah, my boss has me helping out more this weekend,” I explain, glancing around at the bustling space. My eyes catch on a familiar figure a few meters away, and my stomach twists uncomfortably.

Max is standing with his arms crossed, looking my way. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something sharp in his gaze that makes my heart skip. Quickly, I look away, focusing back on Lando, who seems oblivious to the tension building in me.

“Well, don’t let them run you into the ground,” Lando says, his tone light but sincere. “You’ve got to survive the weekend, too, you know.”

“Yeah…” I mumble, glancing back toward Max, who’s still watching. His posture is stiff, his jaw tight. The sight alone sends my anxiety into overdrive. “I should probably get back,” I say abruptly, waving at Lando as I step away.

Back at the Red Bull motorhome, I barely make it down the hall before Adam steps out of his office, looking stressed.

“Where did you go? I tried to call you,” he asks, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“Oh, sorry. I just… I grabbed a coffee,” I stammer, holding up the now-empty cup as evidence.

Adam sighs, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, I need you to give this to Max,” he says, thrusting a paper into my hands before disappearing back into his office without further explanation.

I glance down at the paper and immediately feel my stomach twist. It’s a fine. For cursing during the media conference. Great. Of course, it had to be Max. And of course, I had to be the one to deliver it.

Bracing myself, I make my way toward Max’s driver’s room, the nerves growing with each step. I hate how easily he gets under my skin, how even the thought of facing him leaves my palms sweaty and my heart racing. I knock softly on the door, hoping he won’t hear it. Maybe I can just leave the paper and run.

“Come in,” his voice calls, smooth but laced with that familiar edge.

Pushing the door open, I peek inside to see him lounging on the couch, his phone in hand. He glances up when he sees me, and a smirk spreads across his face.

“Intern,” he says, his tone condescending, like he’s genuinely happy to see me—but only because he gets to torment me.

“Max,” I reply hesitantly, stepping inside. “Adam wanted me to give this to you.” I move toward the table near the door, intending to set the paper down and leave as quickly as possible.

“No, no,” he says, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”

I hesitate for a moment, wanting to say no, but the look on his face tells me it would be pointless. Reluctantly, I walk over and hand him the paper. His eyes scan it, and he lets out an exaggerated scoff, tossing the paper onto the couch beside him.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not allowed to say ‘fuck’? I’m a fucking adult. I don’t need to be told what to do.”

I stand there awkwardly, unsure whether to respond or remain silent. His gaze flicks to me, and his expression hardens slightly.

“And you…” he says, his voice low and almost accusing. “You just love to piss me off, don’t you?”

I blink, taking an instinctive step back as he stands and starts walking toward me. “What?” I ask, confused and a little nervous.

“You heard me,” he says, his tone growing sharper. “You like to piss me off. Unless, of course, you’re just naturally this irritating.”

“I… I don’t mean to do anything but my job,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.

He scoffs, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Is flirting with Lando part of your job, intern?”

My face flushes immediately, a mix of anger and embarrassment bubbling up inside me. “What?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me,” he repeats, his tone darker now. “Don’t play dumb. I know you’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid.”

“I wasn’t flirting with anyone,” I snap back, my voice firm despite the anxiety building in my chest.

He looks taken aback for a moment, but his expression hardens again, his smirk twisting into something more dangerous. “Be careful, intern,” he says, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “Do you want to lose your job?”

“What?” I stammer, my heart racing.

“I said,” he repeats slowly, each word deliberate, “do. you. want. to. lose. your. job?”

“No,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I look up at him. My stomach churns with anxiety, the weight of his gaze almost unbearable.

“Then don’t talk to Lando again,” he spits, his tone cold and final. “Now go do your job, intern.”

I don’t respond. My legs carry me out of the room before I can process what’s just happened, his words echoing in my ears. The door shuts behind me, but the tension doesn’t leave. My hands tremble as I clutch the empty coffee cup, my mind racing with a thousand questions—and not a single answer.

The garage feels heavy with a collective sense of disappointment as Max crosses the line in third place. The usual cheers and celebration feel muted, replaced by subdued claps and nods of acknowledgment. A podium is still a podium, but the energy here is clear: Max should be winning, not settling.

I lean against the wall, clutching my tablet, as I watch the screen replay the final laps. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but feel the unease trickle down to me. After all, when Max is in a bad mood, everyone in his orbit feels it. And guess who’s always closest to him lately? Me.

My phone buzzes in my hand, a text from Adam lighting up the screen.

Adam: Media after podium, please.

I let out a small groan and roll my eyes. Do I seriously have to deal with a pissed-off Max again?

Dragging myself to Adam’s office, I hesitate outside the door for a moment before poking my head in. “Adam?” I say quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever he’s working on.

He’s standing by his desk, his phone in hand, furiously typing something. It takes him a second to realize I’m there, but when he looks up, his expression softens. “What’s up?” he asks, his tone gentle despite the stress hanging in the air.

I shift on my feet, feeling nervous as I try to phrase my thoughts carefully. “I just… I wanted to ask if maybe you needed help with other things, you know, besides media?” My voice is hesitant, unsure if I sound as desperate as I feel. “I just… I’m not sure it’s the best position for me,” I add, fidgeting with the tablet in my hands.

Adam furrows his brow, clearly confused. “Well, it’s only for this weekend, Y/N. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” I lie quickly, shaking my head. “It’s fine. I just thought I’d offer to help with other stuff, that’s all.”

His expression softens again, and he gives me a small smile. “No, it’s okay. We’ll get through this weekend, but thank you for stepping up. I’ll be sure to remember how much you’ve helped.” He winks, and I can’t help but smile at the praise, a warm feeling bubbling in my chest despite my earlier frustration.

“Now,” he adds, gesturing toward the door, “you better go get Max for post-race.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, my smile lingering as I walk out of his office. At least Adam appreciates me. That alone feels like a small victory.

But as I head down the hallway toward Max’s driver room, the warmth fades, replaced by the familiar knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. Dealing with Max again—especially when he’s in a bad mood—feels like walking into a storm without an umbrella. I stop outside his door, hesitating for just a moment before knocking lightly.

The door swings open almost immediately, and Max stands there, his expression dark and stormy. He looks pissed off, his blue eyes sharp and his jaw clenched tightly. The sight of him makes me take a small step back, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“Sorry… I just wanted to know if you’re ready for post-race?” I ask softly, holding the papers and phone close to my chest like a shield.

Max sighs heavily, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Just… give me a minute,” he mumbles, his voice lacking its usual sharpness. He turns and walks back into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

I step inside hesitantly, placing the papers on a small table near the door. Something feels off. His usual arrogance, the cocky smirk he always wears like a badge, is gone. Instead, he seems… tired. Defeated, even. I glance at him as he sits down on the couch, his head tilted back, his hands rubbing his temples.

“Can you close the door?” he asks softly, his voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it.

I hesitate for a moment but eventually reach back to push the door closed, the click of the latch echoing in the quiet room. My chest feels tight as I watch him, unsure of what to do or say. The tension in the room feels suffocating, and for some reason, I feel compelled to ask him what’s wrong.

“Are… you okay?” I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then, slowly, he looks at me, his blue eyes clouded with something I can’t quite read. “I’m fine,” he says, but his tone is far from convincing.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I watch him. There’s something so uncharacteristic about him right now that it throws me off balance. Before I can say anything else, he shifts slightly, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Come here,” he says, his voice low but steady as he pats the empty spot on the couch beside him.

My body moves before my brain can catch up, and I find myself walking toward him. I sit down next to him, the air between us thick with unspoken words. For a moment, neither of us says anything, the silence stretching out like a taut wire.

Then, without warning, his hand reaches up to cup my face, pulling me closer. His lips crash onto mine, firm and demanding, and my mind goes blank. I freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of his kiss, his passion seeping into every inch of me.

For a moment, I lose myself in him, my body reacting instinctively as I kiss him back. His hand slides to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he deepens the kiss, his movements aggressive and desperate. It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I can feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace.

But then reality snaps back into place, and I pull away abruptly, my breath coming in short gasps as I stare at him in shock. “Max—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, his voice low and raw. His eyes are darker now, filled with something I can’t quite name. “Don’t say anything.”

Before I can process his words, his lips are back on mine, more insistent this time, his hands tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. My thoughts are a blur, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of what’s happening. But all I can feel is him—his frustration, his passion, his overwhelming presence.

And I can’t seem to pull away.

——————————-

As always, thank you for reading and appreciating my works.😇

l hope my writings help you unwind and escape your life in a way that is exciting to you.

Please like and follow for more!

Xoxo

Princess

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen

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beiasluv · 11 months ago

Text

2k celebration ❋

Wowe. 2k??? Haven’t been much interactive since the beginning of time but I wanna thank all y’all lovely people – and bots – who followed me for my professional yapping journey. 🫶🫶

just a little thank you I’m gonna list all of my f1 favs – and writers!

please do respect the writers, as some works are not for minors; I’ll mark them with *

– lando norris 4

you came, you called @dilemmaontwolegs

a birkin bag for yn @xhopelesslyromanticx

*dangerous, tained, and flawed @prettyfastcars

toothbrush @works-of-fanfiction

– charles leclerc 16

right timing @moneymasnn

a house, a home @forteafy

– logan sargeant 2

pros and cons @gentlyweeps-world

where the fun begins @disneyprincemuke

– carlos sainz 55

hard yet to pass @leclsrc

a house, a home @forteafy

the one you need @multiversesweets

mine @pucksandpower

*do you want it? @leclsrc

– oscar piastri 81

wedding panic @jackpiastri

uh oh @uluvjay

no red flags @struggling-with-drivers

be brave @scuderiahoney

dirty streets @lipringlrh

– misc.

when we were young @shaarlslec SV5

meet cute with the guy on the bus @sebscore MS47

sweet like grenadine @scuderiahoney DR3

my man isn’t creepy! @rene-spade CS55 DR3 OP81 PG10

– fav blogs ✶

@multiversesweets (little leclerccc)

@planetpiastri (number one OP&LS stan🙏)

@disneyprincemuke (frat logan got me on hold 😩)

@lorarri (buzzfeed. that’s it 🤭)

@leclsrc (you already know…my favorite carlos writer)

@prettyfastcars (mob lando 👹👹)

@itaipava (og drivers blurb 🙏)

@sebscore (gen z driver + jenson crush og)

@norrizzandpia (mclaren girlies feeder 😩)

@norrisleclercf1

@scuderiahoney

@povlnfour

@pucksandpower

@httpiastri

spread some love and take care!! 😘👹

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #rec #fic recs #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #logan sargent x reader #sebastian vettel #daniel ricciardo x reader #mick schumacher x reader

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segretecose · 1 year ago

Note

Please, please elaborate on the f1. I'm suddenly interested

lewis hamilton has broken up with his team (mercedes) and got with ferrari instead but that's starting in 2025 which means we still have a full season to go with two sets of teammates (lewis hamilton & george russell; charles leclerc & carlos sainz) who are virtually divorced. red bull racing is just a collection of the worst people you've ever heard of won't elaborate further because there's an investigation for misconduct going on atm it's actually serious stuff. the french team alpine (largely based in london) has two french drivers (pierre gasly & esteban ocon) who have 10 year long beef and hate each other so much they had to force them to take a picture together under the french flag (real). there is a team called VCARB now. and another maybe called STAKE but we don't know if that's going to stick because it's a gambling thing and it's illegal in some states. fernando alonso's role is literally just to lie and stir shit up and provide a greek chorus of malice and hatred and occasionally drive a car too. and don't ask me why lando norris was moaning live on twitch but he was

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isawthesainz · 6 months ago

Text

Race Recap 14: Belgium

Sunday 28th July 2024

Build-Up:

On 23rd July, it is announced that former Ferrari chief Mattia Binotto will join Audi to lead their F1 project

On 24th July, it is announced that Max Verstappen will take a 10-place grid penalty after having to replace his ICE for the fifth time

On 25th July, it is announced that Esteban Ocon will join Haas for 2025 on a multi-year contract

Also on 25th July, it is revealed that Bruno Famin, the current Alpine principal, is expected to leave the team after the Belgian GP weekend

On 26th July, Alpine announce that team principal Bruno Famin will leave his current role by the end of August

On 26th July, it is announced that Yuki Tsunoda will take a 60-place grid penalty due to a new power unit

In FP3, both Tsunoda and Oscar Piastri run wide over the gravel due to heavy rain, briefly bringing out the yellow flag. Practice is red flagged after Lance Stroll’s aquaplanes and hits the wall at Eau Rouge, breaking the front suspension. After the restart, the session is interrupted by a second red flag due to a large amount of standing water on the track. The red flag is removed with just two minutes left on the clock

Despite setting the fastest time in qualifying, Verstappen will start from P11 due to a grid penalty, with Charles Leclerc taking pole position

Race Highlights:

At the end of Lap 3, Zhou Guanyu reported that he was losing power. However, by Lap 4, his Race Engineers managed to fix the issue without a visit to the pits and the Sauber driver was able to continue the race

On Lap 7, Zhou enters the pits and retires the car due to a hydraulics issue

After the first round of pit stops, Carlos Sainz (who is yet to pit) leads the race with Lando Norris (also yet to pit) in P2

A brief yellow flag is shown on Lap 15 as Sainz runs wide over the gravel in Sector 3

Norris pits on Lap 15, with Sainz pitting on Lap 20

Mercedes call Lewis Hamilton into the pits on Lap 26. Meanwhile, George Russell asks the team to consider a one-stop strategy

During the second round of pit stops, Oscar Piastri pits on Lap 30, overshooting the box and hitting the crew member holding the front jack. The pit stop takes 4.4 seconds and he rejoins the race on P4

By Lap 33, Russell is leading the race, having only had one pit stop. Hamilton is in P2, followed by Charles Leclerc and Piastri

Piastri overtakes Leclerc on Lap 36 to take P3

By Lap 41, Hamilton is within DRS range of Russell, who’s tyres had now completed 30 laps

By Lap 42, Piastri is closing in on both Mercedes drivers, whilst Russell defends agains Hamilton

Sergio Perez pits on Lap 43 to set the fastest lap time from P8

On the final lap, Hamilton locks up into Turn 1, dropping back from Russell

Russell finishes the race in P1, followed by his teammate Hamilton for a Mercedes 1-2. Piastri finishes P3

However, shortly after the race, it is announced that Russell has been disqualified from the race after his car was found to be 1.5kg below the minimum weight requirement. The decision means that Hamilton inherits the win from his teammate, to take his second victory of the season

Race Results:

1st Place: Lewis Hamilton

2nd Place: Oscar Piastri

3rd Place: Charles Leclerc

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localwhoore · 10 months ago

Note

can you write a fic where the logan sergeant defenders are all drivers and noelle gets into a fist fight with logan?

DRIVERS ????

WARNING QND DISCLAIMERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

consented racism and unconsented ageism against noelle obviously under the cut

and also my opinions dont cancel me over this stupid shit tjanks 😁😁

red bull

goatifi

-> 2x wdc, clutched up AD21 and took the checkered flag 10 times (scoring an extra 250 points) and won the championship instead of max or lewis and caused outrage. also scored a redbull seat

max verstappen

-> DUDUDUDU MAX VERSTAPPEN DUDUDUDU MAAX VERSTAPPEN no seriously he won the championship by lap 1 😞

ferrari

fernando alonso

-> future 3x wdc, promising 43 yrold rookie future of f1 who is unfortunately unable to escape the torturous clutches of ferrari (finally wins a wdc for them too)

charles leclerc

-> is chained up and shackled at the bottom of ferrari HQ and fed cold soup and stale bread twice a week and cannot be released unless its race weekend. (inspired by the james vowles c.ai bot i got bored and talked to who had alex albon, who he called alaobono, in a cage for biting williams guests. also he crawled on all fours and threw chairs and printers)

mercedes

liyah amelia grace habibi afzal @foreveralbon

-> when f1 eventually brought sepang back onto the calendar, liyah was fighting for P1 a few laps in when her engineer mentioned sightseeing at KL’s twins towers (the petronas towers). this was a mistake as upon hearing those words, liyah was immediately inhabited by the spirit and earthly energies of her late uncle: muhammad hazam “ارهابي” omar afzal, who passed down his loving lifelong legacy to her via muscle memory and pure instinct aka going back to her roots. anyways, she flung her car towards a corner with banking and projectile launched herself at 346km/h over 60km distance between her and her goal over the span of a shocking 10 minutes and 24 seconds!!! liyah escaped the incident with little injury, but the same cannot be said for those inside the towers (towers as in plural because george russell flew past her into the 2nd tower shortly after). media had an absolute fucking field day

george russell

-> misses half his races to film ads for tommy hilfiger and marriot bonvoy. toto gets pissed and kicks him out of their sleepover party which makes george severely depressed but its ok cz he gets married to carmen in his fav hotel marriot w a british royalty themed wedding (hes dressed as princess diana)

mclaren

lando norris

-> 4x wdc, paid goatifi to take out max and asked oscar to pull a kmag in saudi and decimated a 1-2 at silver stone hip hip hooray also he got fucked into the monaco hairpin barriers and was injured permanently unable to grow a pedostache

oscar piastri

-> 999x wdc, boy oh boy where do i even begin. the loml, oscar piastri. you truly are my sunshine. my only sunshine. you make me happy when skies are gray. you’ll never know dearrrrr how much i looove youuu please dont takee my sunshine awaaaaayyyyyyyy pookie wookie aookie bookie cookie dookie eookue fookie gookie hookie iookie jookie kookie lookie mookie nookie oookie pookie quookie rookie sookie tookie uookie vookue wookue xookie yookie zookie

alphatauri

yuki tsunoda

-> 50x wdc. my goat 🐐 he beat daniel 23-1 and is a fucking LEGENDDDDDD MY GOAT TRRRRRAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH YOINTS AND YUKAMPIONSHIP LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO 🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶

liam lawson

-> he finally let his hair grow out so he doesnt look like a lesbian anymore cutie patootie finally got a seat 😜😜

aston martin

avis cloostefek @aviscarrentals

-> actively trying to seduce lawrence stroll for that bank cz shes kinda broke idk the f1 life pays her less rhan she thought???? regularly breaks into the VIP area and eats all rhe food in catering because shes pasty pale white and has no cuisine culture except crackers and unseasoned boiled chicken and a side of cheese soggy french fries

lance stroll

-> justice for lance guys his dad is being seduced by a pasty white woman with very bad very severe chronic culture-less behavioural tendencies 😞

alpine..

lea @vroomvroomcircuit

-> im sorry but someone had to be in the alpine and i picked u🥰 much love!! anyways one fine typical tuesday lea remembered that her teammate is french and her deeprooted german moustache man awakened and unleashed havoc upon the french demanding her right to the land of the baguettes and croissant to be reclaimed for the return of glory for the motherlandYAA deutschland 🇩🇪 NEIN DA FÜHRER SAUSAGE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

pierre gasly

-> french ☹️

haas

althea noelle. @disneyprincemuke

-> 10x destructors championship. an antique and prehistoric primordial being in the form of a petite pinoy creature. it has devoted to the art of racing since the dawn of time. since day was night, night was day as the two parallels of each other blurred in a flourish and spectacle of a draped veil over the vast expanse known as the horizon, since the stars aligned side by side in the darkest of hours. she raced upon the lands of pangea, upon the tallest of mountains now reduced to stones and rubble that crumble under footsteps and blow with the breeze. throughout millennia, throughout the countless frigid winters and blistering summers as she watched empires rise and fell, civilisation bloom and prosper, tyrants dictate and rebels overthrow, dynasties rule and eras whirl past like the wind, akin to momentary blips as centuries compile into memories viewed back upon within seconds. the only divinity to harbour ancient knowledge lost to time and space, lost through endless bloodshed of war as humanity tore itself apart , screaming aggressive rage and agony from the inside as flesh ripped flesh as the steady drill of what could be known as time mercilessly marched on, and waited for none. the little beam of consciousness this dingus fostered within burnt bright bold as passion strove on as fuel for her little stature (shocking). also she has yet to score a point in f1 cz she keeps twinning logan sargeant and crashing out on the 1st lap. her nickname is turn one thea 💀💀💀

TLDR; noelle is old and hasnt scored in f1

kevin magnussen

-> https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFGTu8tL/

stake kick balls sauber

zhou goatyu

-> 中国是第一！！周冠宇我爱你啊！！！请让祖国骄傲我们都支持你。周冠宇周冠宇！加油加油加油拿多分🗣️🗣️🗣️🥶🥶🥶

mclgf (now ur saubergf idk) @mclarengf

-> all hands on deck for the pitstops!!!! toby and newplayer are incharge of the tires and aria is ur race engineer turned reserve driver and tobys a development driver idfk bro 😭😭

williams

alex albon

-> james vowles character ai bot

logan sargeant

-> Oh Say, can you see By the dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed At the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars Through the perilous fight O'er the ramparts we watched Were so gallantly, yeah, streaming? And the rockets' red glare The bombs bursting in air Gave proof through the night That our flag was still there O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave also twinning noelle loves crashing

safety car driver

me (i cant drive)

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salutethesargeant · 8 months ago

Text

A Mess It Grows - LS18, OP81

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Oscar Piastri (Maplescotch)

Summary: Following Lando's win at Miami, an insecure Oscar heads to his hotel room to regress. One of his boyfriends follows suit to comfort him the only way they know how.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, kink themes (petplay/animal play), sfw intimacy, hurt/comfort, mentions of polyamory, use of pet names

A/N: Crosspost of my fic from my ao3 (inlovingmemory) and also my first fic here. Maplescotch is such an underrated ship and one of the few I would actually die for. (Mainly bc I'm a sucker for ships only I care about) Enjoy.

The checkered flag waved as crowds clad in orange and black began their frantic frenzy. 8 seconds ahead of the 3-times World Champion, for several laps. The rows upon rows of fans under the Florida sun were livid at the sight. Could it really be? A car the color of papaya-orange crossed the finish line for the first time since 2021. But an Australian wasn't the winner. Not this time.

No, that Australian was at Toro Rosso now. AlphaTauri. RB. Whatever they were called, it wasn't Red Bull or McLaren. He was stuck situated behind a Sauber and would likely be his same, bitter, old self after the race.

Yet, there was one Australian today who got the shorter end of that stick. One younger, yet dressed in the same ol' familiar orange and black. Bright, exhausting orange like his car. The one cameras paid no focus on: Oscar Piastri. Driver for McLaren, Alpine survivor, and 2 seasons into F1. Drove his car off for podium place until Carlos collided his Ferrari into the papaya boy.

Front wing damage. No penalty. Late leaving the pit stop from repairs. Forcibly having to settle for 13th place with no points. Losing his place late in the race while Lando was having the time of his life.

Oh yes, Lando. Lando Norris.

There's not much the Aussie could say about the Brit. They were teammates, they were competitors. Nothing more, nothing less than that. They got along, admittedly, only because Oscar knew they had to.

Being at Alpine years ago, he witnessed the opposite firsthand. His long-term boyfriend, Esteban Ocon, had been the subject of several cutthroat backtalk and altercations involving fellow Frenchman Pierre Gasly. Sly remarks full of snark and internal gossip with mean looks, or full on fights in private. It would get nasty, almost catfight-ish. All Oscar could do was sit back and watch like a child of divorce, until he'd have to later comfort and ice Ocon's bruises.

The Aussie knew any teammate relationship could turn sour like theirs at any time. No matter how long or how deep their bond went, a budding rose always came to grow thorns. He's seen the contempt boil and bubble, masked behind the Frenchmens' PR-fueled, artificial smiles for social media. Pierre's faux-friendliness on and off-camera had targeted him too, coming from someone who desperately wanted to lure the young driver in despite knowing Esteban's warnings. Even the most enticing of snakes prepped their fangs.

But Lando wasn't like that.

Atleast, that's what Oscar hoped. Since switching his colors from Alpine's sugary, teeth-rotting, cotton candy-esque light blue and pink to a more vivid orange, the relationship between the two Anglophones had since been short of amiable. Sure, maybe they weren't constantly at eachother's throats - and maybe Oscar should've been grateful for that - but they weren't the best of friends either. Or friends at all. An air of stillness had settled between them since they first met in the same garage over a year ago, growing like a thick fog.

McLaren and F1's social media could paint the papaya pair like two peas in an overwhelmingly positive pod as much as they wanted, but all it did was make them look good. Good. Marketable. Two young drivers ready to take on the whole grid, overwhelmingly clad in black and orange. A World Champion-in-the-making and a former rookie who seemingly locked together like two puzzle pieces. Landoscar, the fans called it. Soulmates, everyone viewed it.

If it were that easy, maybe Oscar would already be attached to the hip of the Brit. Maybe Lando - for how much he flaunted his shamelessly hedonistic lifestyle as if it were his sole personality trait and thought inside that hollow head of his - would atleast make the effort to include and invite him to stuff once in a while. It's not like Oscar was begging to go to his teammate's pretentious parties across Europe, full of high-class randoms several leagues above him. Full of people he didn't know nor could care less about him or his relationships. Instead, Oscar usually kept quiet, only bothering to smile and make small talk when McLaren needed them to. Even when the cameras weren't rolling, it was never like he asked the Brit time and time again to be besties, although sometimes he wish he did.

Lando wouldn't have to pretend to reach out to him after their social media shoots, pretending to be interested in him and his life. The Aussie knew deep down his teammate, for how dull he proudly was, was playing the same games he was, tricking the media and inadvertently, Oscar aswell. People already thought they were the "bestest" of teammates compared to the other, far more infamous pairs on the grid. The thought made Oscar shiver.

Even his boyfriends, despite the bias against them, were never the subject of tabloids as much as the Brit was. If anything, his two lovers being disliked helped keep their relationship out of the spotlight - yet it only made the vipers of paparazzi focus solely on Lando and Oscar. Labeled as 'friends', an 'ideal couple,' despite the younger man already having special people (who were also on the grid) in his life. But God help him for actually thinking journalists payed attention to what was true.

Maybe he wouldn't be constantly compared to Lando - more than he already was - if they actually were good friends like the news said. Oscar was just a former rookie in the eyes of his team and the media, but Lando was a proven, soon-to-be World Champion. Every step he took, praise followed like a trail of gold. His own red carpet. Even the cameras were too bright, Oscar was almost blinded despite how far he was shoved out their view.

In regards to the times where he, or perhaps where McLaren allowed him to, shone, he was restricted to playing 2nd. Times where he could've helped the team gain points were never considered when they focused on his tanner teammate to earn another podium. Oscar would have to stick towards the back end of the race, feeling too insecure to look at his manager in the eye in the garage. A disgustingly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd grown familiar with. And as he predicted, this strategy (or lack thereof) happened again today.

Except Lando was a race winner now.

The heat of the Miami sun rested upon Oscar's back as he begrudgingly exited the cockpit, his fireproofs and suit on fire as he ripped off his helmet. What a horrible race that was, just his luck to go from top 4 to being the loser in a challenge with Carlos. The Spaniard seemed to collide with him, giving him damage to his front wing as he'd end up losing his place. Sure, he was able to get back in the race and set the fastest lap so he'd gain something out of it, even if it was to just end up behind an Alpine and out of points territory. But it didn't really mean anything when he had his race ruined and McLaren couldn't care less about him.

From where he currently was in the garage, God Save The King blared in the distance, like a thought he couldn't truly escape. If he were a little more patriotic, he'd find it nauseating. But even if he wasn't, it still was. Everywhere he went, it seemed to remind him that he'd never be good enough. He'd never be like him in their eyes, only a liability. Feeling sick again, Oscar ran and tried finding the nearest bathroom, far from the McLaren garage. Far from the podium. He couldn't bear to deal with the strategists and members of the team crowding his way right now.

It was his day. Lando's day. It always was.

Stood proud on the podium were the same three that usually stood there: a McLaren, a Red Bull, and a Ferrari. A Brit, a Dutchman. and a Monegasque. The sun's golden glare made them looked blessed, like a trio of angels. Oscar couldn't bother to look from behind his back, ignoring the barrage and sea of voices and lights blinding and deafening him if he did. But they weren't for him, not all of them. It didn't matter. The spotlight was focused on something - rather, someone - else, and he needed to leave. Fast and unbothered. His hotel couldn't have been that far from the track, especially when he was sure some of the other drivers were headed their way there also after the race ended.

Especially the two he knew, who he shared a room with. Who he always shared hotel rooms with, discretely under the guise of being a "group of best friends." Whatever people thought, Oscar needed them. Particularly in this moment, when his head began to feel too heavy for him to support himself. When he needed to be away from the masses and fall into a special sort of headspace only they knew about, behind closed doors. Those special, intimate moments.

After having to do some careful finding in the garage and stripping of his fireproofs, Oscar grabbed his phone and immediately went to his contacts. He's changed enough out of his race suit and back to regular McLaren merch that he could sneak back out to the paddock. In such a fast amount of time too, seeing how the rest of the papaya crew was still too focused on throwing Lando around. Then again, Oscar was rushing in a hurry and practically gone ghost once he situated his cap.

Most of the drivers on the grid stayed at the same hotel for certain races, their team executives booking them months in advance. They were never usually that far from the track or paddock either, for the teams convienence. Such was the case for Miami, where Oscar currently padded open the resort's luxerious doors in an urgent manner. Did McLaren need him right now? Probably, if Lando's win got boring to rub in. Would Oscar head back to attend? Nope.

As the Aussie went to dial the number labelled, "Lancey," in a strike of coincidence, life decided to serve itself to him for once. Meeting eye to eye with the Canadian again off track, the taller male's expression went from one of surprise to worry. The concern seemed to rub off the younger man, as evident by how Lance was able to pick up on it quickly.

"Osc, what are ya' doing here? Shouldn't you be at McLaren's garage?"

Nothing. No response. All he received was a big, brown-eyed stare from his dark brown eyes into his. Lance's worry seemed to grow tenfold at his boyfriend's out-of-character silence. Something must've been really wrong, his race must've gone pretty bad. Lance knew his wasn't great either, but Oscar handled his more deeply.

The Canadian looked down with his own dark eyes, reflecting a vulnerable Oscar in them like a mirror. His voice almost cracked, bringing a hand to grip his tightly as he pulled them towards the elevator. Oscar wasn't even aware that the button for their floor was clicked, and soon they were off.

"I'll- I'll need to phone Esteban as soon as possible, tell him he needs to come back immediately. He's—" Lance's voice trembled, as if he had something stuck in his throat. This ride was taking too long, goosebumps forming on skin from pure nervousness.

Seemingly noticing, Oscar rubbed his head of fluffy peanut-brown hair against his side. He looked up into the eyes of his boyfriend, and felt the Canadian's nerves rapidly calm down. Realizing what kind of care Oscar needed now, the taller man spoke again, this time much more clearly.

"Esteban, right. Este is uhm, busy with Fernando right now. He'll be back soon, hopefully with some food. But I might need him to come quicker, especially since you're going into err—" Oscar pawed at Lance's sweater, cutting his train of thought off again. Feeling concerned yet a little more relaxed now, he laughed. Their elevator had reached their floor. Lance heard Oscar whine a little at how hard he gripped the Aussie's hand while walking over to their room door.

"Pupspace." A smile bright as the morning sun spread on his features. Oscar's followed as he laid put on the velvet floor, restlessly pawing at his feet.

He would've preferred if he had brought a leash to Aston Martin's garage, or perhaps if Esteban did to Alpine's. It would've made his job a lot easier, yet it's not like he could've predicted Oscar would regress this soon. Or this severe. Or Nando potentially finding it on accident. That would've been one hell of an embarrassing talk.

After some fumbling with the lock of the hotel door and Lance's strangely large quantity of keys, the door finally let loose. The Montrealer squatted down near the Australian, exchanging a gentle glance and offering his hand to help him back up to his feet, although only to walk him inside. Oscar's weight felt like a bag of thick rice, needing all of Lance's support to be carried inside as if he couldn't use his legs anymore. Granted, that was because he couldn't. He wasn't "grown" enough to do so currently.

The lights of their hotel room were turned down low, a nice warm orange coating everything. Enough time had passed that the Miami sun had begun to set, its luminous colors bleeding through the large glass windows and fine curtains as it dipped into the horizon. The sight almost made Lance sleepy, almost falling into a drowsy state before realizing he was carrying someone much sleepier already.

Setting Oscar aside on the nearest couch, he kept his head up as the Aussie looked at him with pleading eyes. Wanting warmth and attention now that they were behind closed doors, he whined again, in a higher pitch than last time. Lance couldn't help but chuckle, hands on his hips as he returned some sass.

"Alright alrighty, Butterscotch. I'm trying to be fast for ya, but you're asking quite a lot!" The mahogany of the Canadian's lively eyes reflected back onto Oscar's, who couldn't help his cheeks grow pink like bushes of roses. The younger man watched from his place, sat on the couch, as Lance looked around their temporary living space for a few moments. Almost urgently so.

When finished, he had a familiar leather collar wrapped in his hands. Oscar's eyes went wide at the sight. Unable to keep his excitement down, he reached his thin paws out in a 'grabby' motion and yelped. Yip yapping away. Another laugh escaped Lance, who rested a rough hand on Oscar's shoulder. "Who knew Esteban and I had such a needy, impatient puppy..."

"But I shouldn't mock you this much, especially when ya need this more than me right now." Despite his outward manner and physique compared to the Aussie, the Quebecker's hands were quite gentle as he began wrapping the accessory around his partner's neck. Oscar, of course, stayed still and soaked in the attention like a sponge. Feeling the black and orange-accented leather lock into place and hearing his name tag (which simply read: "OP31, replies to 'Oscar' or 'Butterscotch.' If found, return to Stroll or Ocon.") jingle, he finally relaxed. The bad thoughts from earlier were beginning to drain out.

Not bothering to change either of them out of their team merch, Lance pulled his pet into his grip with one arm. Oscar fell immediately into his chest, pawing at it before circling around to settle himself down more comfortably. Lance gazed down, petting the fluffy caramel-brown hair between his fingers as he pressed a kiss on the Australian's nose bridge.

"You're a good boy, Osc. A good pup." Lance paused, looking away from the chocolately love in Oscar's eyes to his own fingers. Fidgeting and flicking them around, he felt a certain paw mess with it. Lance felt a familiar pair of eyes look back up at him again.

"I'm just— sorry. Sorry for you. I just feel bad that, well, ya know. Lando, Carlos, or whoever, ruined your race today."

A high pitched whimper followed in agreement as the younger man laid his head against the chest of Canadian, opting to lay against the armrest as he waited for their other partner to come home. Oscar took in his partner's scent as he laid on his side, curled up in his arms. Faintly smelling like maple with hints of pecan pie. A cold Autumn breeze over the warmth of a thick cotton scarf.

"It wasn't your fault. I know your mind will tell you otherwise, but I won't. I know, I know..."

Oscar was more than upset about the earlier drama and results, but wouldn't be lying if he admitted that he couldn't care anymore. Fortunately fleeting away, then gone in the wind. Was almost like a near memory that he since brushed off once returning home.

Home where he could unwind, where he could be his true self. Where he could no longer worry about the race or any sort of grid drama. A home where he could be with physically, no matter where he went. Melbourne, Suzuka, Shanghai, Miami...

He was safe at home. Safe, secure, and warm. Home meant comfort, but it also meant security. Private, yet seeked fun. Home never judged him for letting his walls down, or anything else really. Home made him feel seen. Feel loved. Acknowledged.

Lance was home, Oscar's home. Nothing could change that. Nothing would. He wore dark green, but loving him was red.

And so were both of their cheeks currently, mutually flushed as they pressed against eachother. Lance wasn't sleeping, no, but he was surely entertaining himself as he watched Oscar try not to. Yet a peck to the cheek helped his senses kick in, as he giggled and licked at the Montrealer's face.

Smiles were exchanged once more, Lance couldn't help but keep playing with the silk of Oscar's hair. The younger man melted to the touch, rubbing against him in an attempt for more petting. His collar seemed to be a bit too tight for his skin, causing a noticeable red mark around his neck. He had his hands available, but seemed to prefer Lance's help.

"I just wish they came to some sense, ya know? Carlos, I mean. I— I don't understand him."

The Quebecker stood up, causing the reaction of his little spoon to do the same. Oscar fell to the floor. Knobby knees against the velvet carpet as he stayed on his fours. Lance stood to stretch, leaning down to pet the Aussie as he walked towards his temporary water bowl. Tapping the side twice, Oscar skittered across obediently. Lance's train of thought continued again as he leaned against the wall, watching Oscar lap up his water.

"There's always gonna be those types of people on the grid, the ones that want you gone. I've been through it, so has Esteban. Even Lewis."

Oscar stayed put on the floor, sitting crissed-cross with his two front hands infront. Water ran from his face down his chin. A noticeable stain now soaking the collar of his papaya-orange polo. He turned his head to the side at Lance's words, whining an octave louder. Brown eyes staring.

"I know what it's like to constantly be compared to your teammate too. You— You have to survive with it in this sport, unfortunately."

Lance adjusted his posture, squatting on the floor before standing up on his knees. Unlike Oscar, he wobbled, only stabilizing himself with a hand behind him on the floor. He pat at his thigh, whistling as he locked eye contact with the Australian, before bringing him in a tight embrace.

"You don't deserve any of this, Butterscotch. None of this. I'm sorry."

The Canadian's grip seemed to fasten against Oscar's skinnier body like a death grip. As if he didn't want to let him go, or let him breathe. Oscar rested his head the broad of Lance's shoulder, hands splayed on his lover's back. He didn't know where else to leave them.

He felt Lance's hands curl into the caramel of his hair, like milkweed silk between his rough fingers. Oscar closed his eyes, huffing before shaking slightly. His breath stuttering as his chest heaved, feeling like the weight of several stones. Was he crying? He can't remember the last time he did that, especially over a race. Over Lando. Over Carlos. Over everything and anything. Lance hugged him tightly, shushing him as he felt cold tears stain his sweater.

A nearby phone on the coffee table began to ring. Lance's phone. Must've been Esteban.

They let it play, ignoring the ringtone repeating before it eventually ended. They didn't need to move for the world, to wait for others. All Lance needed to do was pay attention to his puppy. His pet. His lover. His Oscie.

It was his night. Oscar's night. It always was.

Atleast to Lance. Esteban too, but only one of them was present. That's all that mattered. Oscar had people that cared, spotlight or not. Race winner or not. Unruined race or not.

Before he knew it, the Australian felt lightheaded. And light. His sopping eyes opened once again as streams littered his face, his blurry vision turning around to notice he wasn't on the floor anymore. Lance was carrying him in his arms, bridal style now. It made Oscar feel small. Vulnerable. Safe. Too deep into headspace and his own insecurities to feel anything but like a puppy.

Looking up, the younger man was met with dark brown eyes meeting his gaze. The Canadian nodded, allowing Oscar to use his sweater to wipe his tears. He pressed a kiss to the bridge of Oscar's nose again, before laying him in the marble of their hotel room's bathtub. His soft yet coarse hands made quick work of the leather collar around the Aussie's neck, rubbing the slight red it left behind.

Mercy coated Lance's eyes, as he sighed yet still gave a gentle smile. His cheeks lightly budding pink like a bush of hibiscuses. Oscar turned his nose up, smiling back in a toothy grin that went up the corners of his face. Face redder than salmon roe. Lance gripped his delicate hands, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. His skin was soft like the rest of him, yet he smelled his strongest here. Like oranges and vanilla.

Lance leaned against the tub, slowly taking off each of his dear's garments. Maybe Oscar had his hands available, but he was too deep into headspace to speak — let alone strip himself. The toffee of his eyes stayed locked onto the Quebecker, purring as he went limp. Even if Oscar could take care of himself, Lance knew he needed him now. And now was all that mattered.

At the final piece of clothing, Oscar's boxers, Lance paused. His hands moved up the pale of the Australian's body to cup his cheeks, moving his thumbs against them in a soothing motion. Lance looked down at him, gentle, serene. Oscar let him do anything, and he was glad he trusted him that much. Like a puppy to its owner. A vulnerable animal to its caretaker. He pressed one final kiss to his soft, pink lips. He tasted like sorbet, Lance's favorite.

They locked eyes once more before Lance's train of thought continued. His faint voice finding itself again.

"Let's— Let's get you cleaned up, Scotchie."

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lance stroll #oscar piastri #ls18 #op81 #maplescotch #lance stroll imagine #oscar piastri imagine #rpf #f1 rpf #lance stroll fluff #oscar piastri fluff #lain's fics

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landograndprix · 11 months ago

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Hi! I just learned about F1 and some drivers but don’t know where to start learning or what to learn about F1 racing 😭😭😭 I really want to get into F1 so if you could recommend me something or idk anything to help me that’ll be great

Okay so I think knowing the basics goes a long way so here's a simple explanation—

The grid consists of 10 teams with each 2 drivers ⤵

red bull -> Max Verstappen, Sergio 'checo' Perez

mercedes -> Lewis Hamilton, George Russell

ferrari -> Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr

Mclaren -> Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri

Aston Martin -> Fernando Alonso, Lance Stroll

Williams -> Alex Albon, Logan Sargeant

racing bulls -> Yuki Tsunoda, Daniel Ricciardo

Alpine -> Esteban Ocon, Pierre Gasly

Stake -> Valtteri Bottas, Zhou Guanyu

Haas -> Kevin Magnussen, Nico Hulkenberg

there's third drivers as well who for example take the seat of a driver who's fallen sick and aren't able to race that weekend but we'll get to that once it actually happens 😅

Race weekends consists of three days ⤵

Fridays are for free practice 1 & 2

Saturdays are for free practice 3 & qualifying

Sundays are for the race

* schedule is different during sprint weeks, you can read about that here.

- free practice 1,2 & 3

Are sessions where teams and drivers get used to the track and test car setups and gather data and all that.

- qualifying

Determines the starting grid.

The first five drivers with the slowest laptime will be eliminated in Q1

In Q2 the next five slowest drivers are eliminated

Q3 will determine the top 10, the driver with the fastest lap will get pole position, so will start in p1.

- race

should be simple, just the race.

the drivers who finish in the top 10 all get points.

P1 - 25 points

P2 - 18 points

P3 - 15 points

P4 - 12 points

P5 - 10 points

P6 - 8 points

P7 - 6 points

P8 - 4 points

P9 - 2 points

P10 - 1 point

+ 1 bonus point for the driver with the fastest lap, that is if they place in the top ten.

++ there's a thing called Driver of the day where we can vote for who we think deserves to be called driver of the day but they don't get points for it

there's the drivers championship for the drivers obviously and the constructors championship for the teams.

tires ⤵

Softs –> the fastest tire, but are likely to wear out before the harder ones do.

Mediums -> somewhere in the middle tire. usually slower than the softs and faster than hards, should also last longer then softs and shorter than hard.

Hard –> don't have a lot of grip but should last the longest.

intermediates -> used on a wet track as well as a drying track

full wets -> for the heavy rain

flags ⤵

Green flag -> means the track is clear

Red flag -> means the race has been put to a stop and all cars should make their way back to the pits. Most likely after an incident or during risky weather conditions

chequered flag -> first one to see this flag is the race winner

yellow flag -> means the drivers need to slow down most likely due to debris on the track, a driver's spun out

sc -> Safety Car is put on track when an incident blocks the track and/or leaves a lot of debris. The drivers need to stay behind the sc until the marshals have cleared up.

vsc -> virtual safety car put out for minor incidents, where no safety car is on track, but drivers need to slow down to a required delta.

* there are so many flags but I feel like these are the most important ones for a beginner to know

honestly, there's so much to f1 and I'd be here for hours if I have to talk about it all but my best advice is to watch the races, look things up, watch stuff on YouTube and driver wise, if you want to get to know them more, look up their teams YouTube channels they do challenges and all that and hell, some drivers have their own channels and most importantly, don't be afraid to ask others if you're confused about something..I remember my first f1 race 😅

got you some links that might help you 😘

f1 glossary

f1 beginners guides

f1 YouTube

drivers

Charles YouTube

Carlos YouTube

Lando YouTube + quadrant

#id make such a shit teacher so pardon me if its confusing as hell 💀

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stateofcharles · 5 months ago

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Did you see what Toto said post race to sky Italy: ⬇️

https://www.tumblr.com/dellovestorant/759799148222529536/toto-at-sky-italy-confused-max-with-lewis-and

He’s actually unhinged and full of red flags at this point. So much going wrong within the team and he’s just obsessed with Max and Kimi, at the expense of George. I genuinely think that George does not have a seat at that team in 2026, it will be Toto’s wet dream of a lineup.

Also a a side note I cannot bear the idea of Lando overtaking George in poles and wins, which looks likely to happen giving the performance of the McLaren & Mercedes….

ok so, let's talk about it seriously for once:

toto wolff wants max verstappen in his team, but a contract is two-sided, what makes him so sure that the latter will accept his offer? (is redbull in such deep shit? if yes, i'm throwing a party)

verstappen said just this weekend that he doesn't plan to stay forever in f1 like alonso is doing, therefore he might even have retired when toto gets to him, who knows

mercedes might have great history but it's thanks to lewis and who designed the car between 2014-2021, surely not thanks to toto. they remain incompetent when it comes to strategy and management - see today. if verstappen chooses to sign the infamous contract, he will likely find himself amongst idiots, he will not like it, will throw a tantrum (understandable here) but he'll soon learn that things are not like they are at redbull where everyone is at his feet, because toto (idiot) doesn't want to change his management. consequences: tension within the team, driver who will look elsewhere.

i already said briefly why i think the whole kimi-mercedes is not gonna work like everyone hopes, so who knows where he will be by 2026

(HUGE personal opinion) verstappen-antonelli is a dynamic that doesn't work in my head. don't ask me why, i can just sense it and i normally get it right on these things

george is a talented driver, that's beyond question. he of course needs to keep his options open. when the occasion arises, he will leave mercedes and go where he believes it's better. between him and mercedes there is not a destructive relationship that reaches the charles-ferrari level (fortunately, i should say), although it's true that he grew up in mercedes, aiming the spot he has now. i hope he knows that he's worth being prioritised and that mercedes (read: toto) right now is not doing it properly.

lastly, from a huge and proud hater, norris will never reach the level of george. just consider that a real talented driver would dominate every FP and grand slam every weekend with the current mclaren. what does he do? loses pole on turn 1 because he has not yet learnt how to start a race in 5 years?

(also, i like to remind that it was george (and charles and oscar🙃), not norris who won GP3 and GP2 back to back during his first year in the category, so everyone should think it twice before calling someone a generational talent❤️)

#ask💭#anti lando norris #george russell

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herohimbowhore · 1 year ago

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I’m currently in the process of making my 2024 F1 bingo card. Last year I only got it half done before the season started so I just never finished it, but this year I want it done before testing.

So far I have one space done: the free space which I called Ferrari Strategy.

Now I have to decide if I’m going to be realistic, delusional, or a hater for the other 24 spaces.

Some ideas that I have so far are:

At least one driver retires from F1

Silly season isn’t as crazy as we all think it will be

Daniel Ricciardo to Red Bull announcement

Alex Albon podium or Alex Albon wins a race before Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri race win

Charles Leclerc Monaco win

Alpine fires more people than it hires

Sebastian Vettel races in Suzuka (perhaps my most delusional idea)

Then there’s some race related ideas with red flags, at least 5 dnfs in a race, rain delays, etc.

What are you guys including in your bingo cards?

#formula 1 #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #alex albon #f1 #hhw thoughts #f1 bingo card #sebastian vettel

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f1 · 1 year ago

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"Totally wrong" weather information "ruined our afternoon" - Russell | 2023 Dutch Grand Prix

Mercedes driver George Russell says that his team got their weather calls wrong in the Dutch Grand Prix after he dropped from third on the grid to finish last. Russell started directly behind Max Verstappen and Lando Norris on the grid but gambled on staying out when the rain fell on the opening lap. As many of his rivals pitted for intermediates, Russell remained on the wet track on his slicks until eventually pitting at the end of lap three. He fell from fourth at the end of the opening lap to 14th place as a result, directly behind team mate Lewis Hamilton who had started from 13th on the grid. “The race was over before it really got started,” Russell said in response to a question from RaceFans. “The information we had regarding the weather was totally wrong. So that was a real shame. A podium was missed. “As a team we need to review because we’re getting the information coming in to us and it was misjudged, the weather. So, it’s not anything to do with racing or engineering, it was clearly just a weather misinterpretation and that ruined our afternoon. So, we really need to look into what happened, why the others decided to pit, what information they maybe had that we didn’t and make sure we don’t make the same mistake again.” Russell explained that Mercedes expected the initial shower was only going to be brief, which is why they chose to risk staying out on slicks. “They told me it was going to be two minutes and I could manage for two minutes in those conditions,” he said. “But it just got heavier and heavier and it lasted for 10 minutes. So it’s a joint effort, it was a real shame, to be honest, that it happened this way. But, live and learn.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free After the track dried, Russell almost lost control of his car at turn seven while team mate Hamilton ran directly behind him. “I had contact with Tsunoda earlier in the race about five laps before and I had massive vibrations and in high speed I was struggling to see,” he explained. “I looked a little in my mirror and next thing I was off the track. But I’m glad to have kept it out of the wall.” Russell says his vibration did not affect him for the majority of the race, but still believes it may have cost him an opportunity to fight for a podium with Pierre Gasly. “It lasted for about five laps, so I lost probably three or four seconds of race time,” he said. “So that was a shame because probably could have stayed ahead of Lewis, Lando [Norris] – Gasly, I think it was, who came out the pits. So, seeing where Gasly ended up it could have been a very different story.” After the late red flag, Russell restarted in eighth place behind Norris. However, the pair made minor contact at turn 11 on the first restart lap which resulted in a puncture, forcing him to pit which dropped him to the very back of the field. “We made a good recovery and then just the contact with Lando [was] an unfortunate racing incident causing the puncture,” Russell said. “So, disappointing but good that we had a fast race car.” Bringing the F1 news from the source RaceFans strives to bring its readers news directly from the key players in Formula 1. We are able to do this thanks in part to the generous backing of our RaceFans Supporters. By contributing 1 per month or 12 per year (or the equivalent in other currencies) you can help cover the costs involved in producing original journalism: Travelling, writing, creating, hosting, contacting and developing. We have been proudly supported by our readers for over 10 years. If you enjoy our independent coverage, please consider becoming a RaceFans Supporter today. As a bonus, all our Supporters can also browse the site ad-free. Sign up or find out more via the links below: Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2023 Dutch Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Dutch Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://racefans.net/

#F1 #"Totally wrong" weather information "ruined our afternoon" - Russell | 2023 Dutch Grand Prix #Formula 1

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illicitlimerence-writes · 3 years ago

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peace | g. russell

pairing: george russell x norris!reader word count: 2.9k words request: yes/no. by an anon: "hi love! hope you are doing great :) I wanted to request something with george if it was possible, maybe make it really angsty like the reader and him having a fight or one if them being jealous. thank you have an amazing day 💖" thanks so much for sending this <;3 warnings: jealous!george, language, idk what else, i'll add more once i read this again. a/n: not proofread! also english isn't my first language! i tried my best to write something really angsty but i just couldn't so i wrote this instead.

my masterlist

you fixed your makeup, straightening your sweater before putting on your rain jacket. it had been raining non-stop in belgium since you arrived. it was the first race since summer break, the first of a triple header.

the first since your breakup.

your relationship with george had always been private. of course, there were pictures of you two that sparked rumors, a celebratory hug that lasted a second too long, his arm around your shoulders as you walked in the paddock.

you had never been more glad that nobody knew about you. you could definitely live without dozens of reporters or internet trolls trying to get whatever little bit of information they could get their hands on.

you had met because of your brother, they raced against each other since childhood, and a friendship blossomed at some point. lando and george got along really well, they knew how to keep the rivalry on track and disconnect and enjoy their time together. you always tagged along, wherever you were, lando was always close by. and so was the other way around.

you had been there for every win, loss, heartbreak and joy throughout their careers. you had been with george when he first got the news that mercedes and williams were interested in giving him a seat for the 2019 f1 season. even though he didn't want to get his hopes up, you were there to remind him of everything he'd accomplished in his career, and how much he deserved that seat because of his hard work and dedication. that night you shared your first kiss.

since then, you were a secret to everyone, even your twin brother. not that you weren't proud of your relationship with george, but there was something so thrilling about sneaking around with him, making out in your bedroom with your boyfriend while your brother streamed next door. leaving the mclaren garage or hospitality unnoticed just so you could wish him good luck before a session or a race, and hiding from the cameras that tried to capture your secret moments.

now, almost a month after your breakup, you don't know if you're ready to see him again. of course you've seen him, on instagram and stuff, but not in person, not after hungary. all weekend you stayed inside the mclaren hospitality, using the rain as an excuse both to stay in and for your mood. but it's race day, and not even a boy would stop you from supporting your brother and the team that you call family.

you make your way to the paddock with lando, you shield under the roof and warmth of the hospitality until it's almost time for the lights to go out. you do your usual pre-race ritual with lando, and wait for the race to start. you feel anxious and unsure about the weather conditions, especially after your brother's crash yesterday. he tells you he feels better, but you can't help but worry every time he gets into the car.

the race is red-flagged, and ten minutes become thirty. then forty. then your brother falls asleep on your shoulder. and you're bored. most drivers are just sitting there watching the broadcast, some, like lando, sleep a little to regain energy. but someone who needs to let some of his energy out is daniel ricciardo. you see him from the other side of the garage as he pretends to wrestle with his trainer and laugh, causing lando to groan and wake up. you apologize and stand up before he can use you as his pillow again.

"hey," you say as you approach daniel. since he switched teams to mclaren you've gotten to know each other more, and he's taken the role of an older brother.

"baby norris, nice of you to join us." you roll your eyes at the nickname. it was george who started calling you that. since you and lando obviously had the same last name, whenever one of your friends adressed you by it you'd both answer at the same time, which started a fight about who should be called by your last name.

"i've got it!" george said. "lando will be norris, and (y/n) will be baby norris,"

"i'm bored," you state.

"everyone's bored. we have to find some ways to keep ourselves entertained and hyped up for the race," he says as removes his headphones from his ears and places them around his neck.

"what do you have in mind?" you ask, placing your hands inside the pockets of your mclaren rain jacket.

"i don't know. i was thinking about going out to cheer the crowd a little. it's not fair that they're standing out in the cold and rain for so long," he shook his head. "wanna join?" he asked. you thought for a second, looking back to your sleeping twin brother, then nodded.

"sure, let's go," you grabbed your beanie and put it on before going out to the rain. you followed daniel outside, going to the pit wall. the crowd roars as they see his blue racing suit and your orange jacket behind him, although they probably think it's lando and not you.

"let's get them to do a mexican wave," he says, and starts moving his arms. you laugh at the sight of this giant waving his arms up and down. the crowd doesn't understand what he's trying to do and just laugh at his antics.

"maybe we should call checo for help," you chuckle, daniel's eyes light up.

"let's do it!" he grabs your hand and starts running to the red bull garage. you spot the mexican driver and wave at him, he makes his way to you two.

"hi (y/n), dan. what are you doing?" sergio asks, adjusting the cap on his head.

"we want to cheer up the crowd a bit." daniel began.

"and daniel thought it might be a good idea to do a mexican wave," you continued.

"but failed miserably, yeah i saw that," sergio said, laughing.

"wanna help?" you asked, raising your eyebrows, smiling wide in hopes to convince him, but he's already nodding his head.

the three of you make your way back to where you previously were, sergio waves to the crowd, and gives you and daniel instructions on how to sign to the crowd what you want to do.

he counts with his fingers and the three of you do a small wave, the crowd cheering. then you three point to them, telling them it's their turn. checo counts down again, and it's a nice first attempt, but got messed up at first.

"what's going on?" you hear behind you. you don't need to look to know who it is. you could recognize that voice even in your sleep.

"georgie! come join us!" daniel cheers, and you soon find yourself sandwiched between the aussie and the brit. george stands a little too close to you, and you refuse to look at him, choosing instead to focus on the guys on your left.

after god know how many attempts, the four of you manage to get the people to do a decent wave through the grandstand.

you jump in delight, giving the crowd a thumbs up before you turn to your aussie friend. he opens his arms and you jump, he lifts you off the ground and spins you around. daniel high-fives you as he sets you down.

"baby norris and the honey badger back at it again!" daniel cheers, hugging you with one arm. you laugh as daniel turns to wave one last time to the crowd, you do the same, and this time you can't ignore george's piercing gaze locked on you. you meet his eyes for half a second before returning to your friend. you smile at the aussie, making your way back to the garage and saying goodbye to sergio. you can't stop yourself, your eyes travel back to george, but he's nowhere to be found.

"i'm heading to the hospitality for something to eat, want something?" you ask once you're inside the garage.

"nah, i'm good. let me walk you, though." he offers but you shake your head.

"that's fine, you should stay here in case they decide to restart the race," you say and he nods. you part ways as you leave the garage. after you grab an apple from the hospitality, you decide to walk for a bit, away from the chaos on the other side. as you return to the garage, someone yanks your arm and drags you into a small room.

"what the fuck?!" you say, freeing your arm from the deathly grip. your eyes meet familiar ones. "george! what were you thinking? you scared the crap out of me!" you scolded. you move to look for the door, but he stands in your way, making you stumble backwards.

"me... what are you thinking?" he huffs, making you frown.

"what are you talking about? let me go," you try again, but he grabs your hips and places your back against the door, now you're trapped.

"it's barely been a month and i see you've already found my replacement. good to know those promises were just empty words," he looks at you with anger in his eyes, but you just feel confused.

"replacement? george, i have no idea what you're talking about but may i remind you that you were the one who ended things?"

"don't pretend. you and danny, i saw the way he held you and how he looks at you." he locks his gaze on a spot next to your head, not looking at you.

"we're not together anymore, remember? i can do whatever i please and you just have to deal with it."

"is that what you think?"

"it's what you said when you left me all alone in an unknown city. you can't just walk away like that and expect to be welcomed back with open arms." you raise your voice a little, pushing him back.

"i told you i needed space,"

"and i gave you space. so you have no right to come here and prevent me from moving on. deal with it." you repeat your words, his words.

"no." he says.

"i'm sorry but i wasn't asking. you didn't ask for my opinion when you decided to abandon me in budapest like i meant nothing to you!" you put your hands on his shoulders and shove him backwards.

"i didn't want to leave you!" he raises his voice, his hands grabbing each side of your waist and pulling you with him.

"that why did you do it!?" you didn't care if someone heard you outside. you needed answers, deserved them.

"because we don't want the same things... i..."

"what?" you urge him to continue.

"i heard you once, a few months ago. talking to lando. he asked if you ever thought about getting married, starting a family. and without missing a beat, your answer was yes."

you remained quiet, thinking back to that moment. it was true, you did see yourself doing all that, but not at the moment, at least.

"and i don't. i see myself doing this, for as long as i can. i can't picture that quiet, normal life you wish. i just see myself, with you by my side." he admits. your breath hitches in your throat.

"that is why i broke up with you. a stupid choice that i've regretted ever since i walked away from you."

"you decided... to break up with me... instead of asking what i thought?" it sounded harsh once you said it out loud.

"wouldn't've changed a thing," he said, stepping away from you.

"george," you started, but he shook his head, zipping up his blue jacket.

"forget it, you deserve someone who can give you a normal life,"

he left the room before you could even react, you tried to run after him but someone called your name. charlotte told you they were restarting the race, and grabbed your arm, rushing to the garage.

as the cars left the pit lane, your leg jumped up and down on its own accord. half of you was too busy thinking about the race, worrying about the rain that would not stop pouring down. whilst the other half thought about your conversation with george.

it was true, what he'd heard, you did see yourself married. even though you lived a hectic life, you knew it would be difficult and you needed someone who could live with that.

a normal person wouldn't understand it. but, as you saw the red flags coming out again, then seeing george's car passing by, you realize you don't need normal.

you just need him.

the drivers leave their cars, get weighed and return to the garages. you get up and leave to watch the podium celebration. your heart races as they hand george his second-place trophy, and he wastes no time in lifting it up in the air. his team cheering for him. from up on the podium, he spots you, you stand out, an orange dot in a sea of whites and blacks. he pours the champagne, so incredibly happy, and at that moment, you can't tell if what you feel on your face are tears or just the rain.

a body stands next to you, your twin brother places an arm on your shoulders, you lean your head on his.

"how does it feel like? being up there?" you ask, watching as george poses with the other drivers for pictures.

"it's unreal. there's no other feeling quite like it, you know? when your hard work is finally rewarded and acknowledged." you nod.

"do you think that's how he's feeling right now?" you both watch the young driver scanning the crowd, a joyful look on his face.

"probably. he'd be happier if whatever happened between you was resolved," he says casually.

"wh- how?"

"i'm your twin. you can't hide anything from me, (y/n)."

"why didn't you say something?" you asked but he just shrugged his shoulders.

"he loves you, you know?"

"i love him as well," you feel your chest getting hot. "i want to fix things but-"

"then do it. go up to him and say it, make him listen and figure it out. i don't like seeing you like this."

"i don't think i can. not here, i-"

"george! oi! come here!" lando yells, dragging you with him until you're standing in front of george. "you broke my sister's heart, the least you can do is listen to her." he says, and george's eyes widen, he locks eyes with you briefly before returning his gaze to your twin. "and don't think you're safe, i will speak to you later, no matter how you resolve this thing." he leaves you both speechless.

you both remain silent for a few seconds, you refuse to meet his gaze, locking your eyes on the floor, your eyes catching the shiny trophy in his hand.

"cool trophy," you say after the awkward silence becomes too much.

"(y/n)-" he begins.

"i don't need normal." you interrupt him, "i don't want or need a normal life because i don't have one. i don't want someone waiting for me at home when i could be with someone who i can do all of this with. i'm young, you're young. if you asked me to marry you i'd probably say yes without a second thought. that's something we both agree in. and kids, i love them, i want them at some point. but, i don't feel ready for kids right now, nor do i think i'll be ready for them in a long time. but guess what? that's a bridge we'll cross when the time comes," you rant. his lips part but he doesn't speak, his eyes are locked on yours.

"we can work out what we need, what we want. all in its time." you lean close, his hands twitching, stopping himself from holding you.

"i could never give you peace, this lifestyle it's always changing, it's not stable it-"

"and that is enough for me. i told you, i don't need perfect, i don't need normal, i need you." you grab his face in your hands, your thumbs rubbing circles on his cheeks.

"i'm so sorry," he says, holding your waist with one hand.

"that's okay. just, promise me, whatever's going on inside that head of yours, we'll talk about it. our choices, we'll make them together. the consequences, we'll face them together as well."

"i promise, i do." he says, nodding his head. your hands slide down to his chest, relishing in the feeling of his body under your touch after what felt like years without it.

"good." you barely get the words out before george pulls you close and attaches his lips to yours. you melt under his touch, smiling into the kiss. you lean back, breathing heavily.

suddenly, you become aware of everything around you. the people, the cameras, the fans.

"okay, okay, that's enough now. come on, show's over," lando appears out of nowhere, stepping between you two and pushing you away from each other.

your face feels warm as lando keeps you both at arm's length, and walks you to the garage. someone comes up to george and gets the trophy from his hands, you side eye him, taking advantage of lando walking a few steps ahead of you, and stretch your arm. george takes your hand behind your brother's back, which reminds you of when you used to sneak around.

"now, i want to set some rules," lando says, turning his head to the side, catching you two. "stop that! get away!" he yells pushing his way between you again, you just laugh.

"oh, dear brother, this is going to be so much fun," you throw an around his shoulder, standing on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair.

"whatever, just don't make out in front of me."

"no promises," george says.

"shut up, i still need to have a talk with you."

"that's okay, my mom taught me all bout the birds and the bees a while ago," george smiles, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"i'll kill you," lando narrows his eyes.

"run, george!" you laugh. he chuckles, before realizing you're serious. lando's gaze is murderous.

"oh, shit," he says, sprinting away, your brother chasing after him.

"everything okay, baby norris?" daniel appears behind you.

"never better."

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