#i would love athletics to be the next sport to get the f1 treatment though i genuinely love it

[charlesleclerc]

let it be known that the next sport i need the 'culture' to get into is athletics/track & field.

i need people to acknowledge the psychosexual obsession jakob ingebrigtsen and josh kerr have with each other. the fact that they got so into their rivalry that they both threw away olympic gold because they were so focused on each other rather than the rest of the field.

the whole internet knows about mondo and his beautiful girlfriend. but we are all sleeping on the pseudo-father/son relationship he has with renaud lavillenie. plus whatever he has going on with sam kendriks.

[racinginchid3nt]

Happier Than Ever | Part One

Y/N x Pierre Gasly, Y/N Best Friend x Lance Stroll

Whirlwind romances with professional athletes certainly have their perks, or do they?

Inspired by Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish

Warnings: mentions of spa history

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Masterlist

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You had been an F1 fan for as long as you could remember. Growing up nearly every weekend had been dedicated to free practice, qualifying, and Grand Prix. Of course when you grow up in Spain, home of the great Fernando Alonso, it was hard to not watch. You had vivid memories of watching him win the drivers championship twice when you were in primary school. And after him came Carlos Sainz, now one of the Ferrari golden boys.

So when you got the chance to attend the Spanish Grand Prix for work last year, you had of course agreed. The tech company you worked for had partnerships in lots of sports, and fancy corporate tickets came with them. You knew going in that you might get to meet a driver or two, but you certainly didn’t expect what happened. A flirty conversation and the exchange of contact information that turned into a whirlwind romance with a certain French driver that changed your life in the blink of an eye.

It took only four months before he asked if you would stop working. You could move in with him, spending the year flying around the world to beautiful destinations. He would support you financially of course, aware you would need spending money. It had taken some convincing, having been working for nearly a decade. But when he wanted to he could be incredibly persuasive. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity he said.

And while you worried about the chance of everything crashing and burning, you hoped the experience would still be worth it. Plus, what if it all worked out? What a story to tell your future kids.

The thing with relationships like this though, was as quickly as they could come together, they could fall apart. Tensions ran high between the both of you, traveling wearing on you and constantly competing on him. The season had been rough for him, Alpine so different to Alpha Tauri.

That was how you found yourselves arguing in a hotel room in Hungary. A double DNF for Alpine meant missing important constructors championship points, but also meant that the gap between Pierre and Esteban was closer than either would like.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Pierre! Obviously I’m not happy you DNFed!”

“Noooo of course notttt. Because that would mean you would need to care!” He yelled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No you are! I don’t understand how you can’t admit that you’re wrong!”

“Because I’m not fucking in the wrong Pierre! I congratulated Charles. He raced well.”

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion with you. You’re so fucking obtuse sometimes.” He replied. Walking to the door he slammed it as he left.

Falling into the bed you wondered how this had become your routine. How the sweet man you fell in love with over video calls and what’s app messages could get so angry about such stupid things. It was just the adrenaline, you told yourself. He would be back in the morning, a bouquet of flowers and breakfast in his hands, apologizing profusely.

And when you woke the next morning you found that you were right.

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You had been raised to expect the royal treatment from your boyfriends. Your father made sure of that before he passed.

That was how you found yourself calling your best friend a few days later, asking her to come to the Belgian GP, Pierre’s treat. You knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the paddock passes. Formula One had been one of things the two of you bonded over in primary school. And as you grew up and went of to university together, spending your Sunday mornings hungover on the couch in your crappy student accommodations while you watched the races had become your routine.

It was her first time attending a race in person, and you were determined to make it the best possible experience. You brought her along to every day of the race weekend.

Sunday had come around quickly, and the excitement battled against the dread within you. It was raining, the track slick. Spa was notorious for rain, but when combined with the high speed turns and hills it made for an unsafe situation. Pierre had been silent that morning as he got around for the race.

You weren’t sure how to comfort him. How could you when you would never understand the pain that racing her year after year brought? He turned in on himself, seeking out the privacy of his drivers room to methodically follow his pre race routine. Giving him that privacy, you spent the morning with Y/N Best Friend. When the race started, you sent up a silent prayer that everything would be okay.

That was how you found yourself having a panic attack in the Alpine garage after the crash between Carlos and Oscar. As you hyperventilated into your best friends arms, she dragged you away from the garage and back to the nearly empty energy suite. You listened to the race commentary from the bathroom, having locked yourself in and unable to watch.

When the checkered flag flew and the race was declared finished, you took the first full breathe you had all day. He had made it. He was okay. Oscar and Carlos were okay. Charles was okay. Yuki was okay. Everyone was fine. Pulling yourself together and cleaning off your smeared mascara, you made your way out to Y/N Best Friend. She sat patiently on one of the couches, watching the podium on the nearby tv screen.

A text came through from Pierre, telling you that there would be extra media today and that he would meet you back at the hotel. Tonight marked the start of the summer break. As the two of you headed out to the car, you talked your best friend through the nights plans. A bunch of the drivers were going to a club in the city, the night to be filled with drinking and dancing.

The boys so rarely got to let loose during the season, so you knew tonight would be a fun one. And you also knew that Y/N Best Friend could use to let loose as well. You had teased her about the possibility of getting a good hookup in during the weekend. The drivers were all in incredible shape, so went the life of a professional athlete, and you knew she had been single for that past year since her and her ex broke up when he left Spain for a job opportunity after uni ended. Having left her alone these past few months, you knew your introverted best friend had rarely been out, and certainly hadn’t meant anyone.

As you looked back on that trip a little over a month later, on the events that came out of that night, you wondered how things could turn to shit so quickly.

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A/N: This first part is a short one. The story is a spin off to my other story, Id Probably Still Adore You. You do not need to read that one first for this one to make sense, but certain topics will be addressed in more depth in that one.

I’m not currently sure how frequently updates on this one will come out, as that one remains my primary piece right now.