#or i write more f1 than call of duty
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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago
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not to sound like a bitch or anything but,
one: please don't call me girl, sis, ma'am, or any kind of feminine language or pronouns. my pronouns are in my navigation page and my bio. - it's he & they. i know people don't do it intentionally to harm or anything, but i am a guy. so yeah...
two: please remember that i am actually a very sick individual with pretty bad health problems and sometimes i hit walls with my writing, even if it is fan fic writing. i feel like i am constantly in a situation where i feel like people are mad at me because i'm not writing their prompts or i'm writing a different fandom. and in some ways writing fan fiction has stopped being fun. and my fear is that people are going to get mad at me or make back-handed snide comments because i haven't done x,y & z. i do this for free, this is free content i am making every day and sometimes it feels like i am working a job. there have been times i have prioritized uploading fan fics to writing my novel or going to my job. yeah, you're on anon in my inbox, but i can read it. i'm glad i can make content that makes people happy, but please realize that most fan fic writers do not post daily. i used to post weekly before the influx of prompt submissions.
so yeah.....
EDIT: i think the conclusion i've reached is that i need a more manageable schedule. while that means getting through prompts & requests a lot slower. it does mean that passion for writing will still be there. i've loved what i've been able to do and the people i've met.
the schedule is now posting fridays thru sundays it may pick up if i really get a good flow going or i have some time here and there. but going forward it's going to be posting friday - sunday with a minimum for two fics a day. <3
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leftneb · 6 months ago
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really considering just "adapting" the events of the austrian gp into my ghostsoap F1 au like it has
both drivers being moderately to very insane on track
hard racing in general
lots of grey areas where both drivers were (almost) the cause of an incident
weird ass statements in the press
complete carnage and intentions of murder online
like that SCREAMS ghostsoap to me
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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago
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oscar's girl * ls2
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logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
notes: guys ive been writing this since 10pm girl it's mf 4am now please sue me i'm sorry this was a long wind up im sorry but dont worry i will be writing a part two HELL YEAHHHH
(logan's girl) // |(f1 masterlist)
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oscar and logan, logan and oscar. that's how it's been since they had run into each other during a karting weekend in the uk a couple of years ago. oscar had approached him with a toothy grin and a packet of candy after seeing logan walk around by himself for weekends at a time.
maintaining the friendship isn't the easiest of feats: logan lives in south florida, while oscar lives on the opposite side of the globe in melbourne. they don't see each other for very long, and very often in a year. but, it always feels like no time has passed when they get together after months of separation.
but being apart for the majority of the year means the window they've got to keep an ongoing conversation is small. but their string of texts has always come in consistently every day, responses from the other flooding in the early hours of the morning and sometimes in the dead of the night.
that was, until, logan woke up one warm thursday morning to an empty and dry phone. he brushed it off, taking it that oscar just had a long day at school. perhaps too much had happened in the day to simply text at the end of the day. so he went to school as he usually did with his best friend in the back of his mind.
but one day turned into two, and suddenly he hadn't heard from oscar in almost a week.
logan had sent one follow-up text. a simple 'hey' to nudge oscar into a response. which did help, because him and oscar surprisingly texted for a short thirty-minute window before the australian called it quits on their conversation to get some sleep for the next school day.
until oscar goes radio silent again for the next three days. so, he goes to the one other person in oscar's life that he knows personally.
"hey mum," logan starts, walking into the kitchen hesitantly. he's been dancing around the idea of asking his mum for help to see if oscar's even still alive and has not been replaced by some clone that's somehow less chatty than the one he said goodbye to at the airport four months ago.
"yeah, baby?" his mother stands up from her prior hunched-over position at the fridge to smile at him. she opens her arms as he approaches her hesitantly, fiddling with his thumbs. "what's wrong?"
he hums, second-guessing his decision to bring his mother into the situation. perhaps oscar just no longer wants to be friends with him anymore? but if that were the case, oscar definitely would have said something to his face and he's just been quiet. "um, it's just oscar," he starts softly, dropping his gaze to his feet, "can you ask his mum if he's alright?"
"of course," she smiles, letting go of him. she walks around the kitchen counter to find her phone. "why, did something happen to him recently? break another wrist?"
logan shakes his head, pressing his lips together. "no, we haven't been talking as much as we used to. i'm just worried that something might have happened to him."
a blush creeps up his cheeks when his mother's lips pout as she tries to hide her smile. "aw, logan! that's very cute of you. and very thoughtful," she teases as she starts to type on her phone. "i'm texting his mum right now. you hang tight and i'll tell you when she gets up to text me, okay?"
"okay."
he tries not to linger around his mum's circle of personal space for very long, afraid to let on that he's more concerned than he should be for the status of his friendship. to combat the anxiety of potentially losing one of his best friends, he locks himself in his room and plays video games all afternoon.
he had been in the middle of a game in call of duty when his phone started to ring. he glances at from his position on his bed and perks up with oscar's picture taking over the screen of his phone.
he immediately pauses the game, tossing the controller to the side of his bed. he slides his finger across the screen to pick up the call and oscar, visibly tired, pops up on his screen with a small smile.
"hey! my mum just got off the phone with your mum," oscar whispers with a smile. "said you missed me, mate?"
"no, i was just concerned cause you've been off the grid for a while," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "i never said i missed you."
"well, i'm sorry for disappearing on you, mate," oscar drops his gaze and a small smile creeps up on his face. in the dim orange lighting of his bedroom in melbourne, logan can almost make out the redness coming through on oscar's cheeks. "there's a reason for that. it's not because i don't wanna be friends anymore. i've just been a little... preoccupied."
logan tilts his head. he rolls over to his stomach and holds the phone up to his face. "what do you mean? more preoccupied than usual?"
"yeah," oscar giggles. "i uh... i've got-" he clears his throat, the slight embarrassment getting the better of him. he lifts his eyes from his thighs and moves the phone slightly further away. "i got a girlfriend."
logan furrows his eyebrows, throwing his head back slightly in shock. "what?"
"yeah," oscar repeats with a hint of a giggle in his response. "i've been seeing her for a while. do you mind if i tell you about her a little bit?"
"really?" logan smiles, squinting an eye. truthfully, he's finding it a little bit hard to believe that oscar's suddenly got a girlfriend. they're literally always on the phone with one another, texting and updating one another on things that they've got no idea about in their day-to-day lives.
not once has oscar come up to him about a girl before, much less developing a crush on somebody. "this is a bit sudden, isn't it? like, where did this girl come from?"
"she's new," oscar smiles. "so, do you wanna know about her or not?"
"alright, fire away, lover boy."
they talk - no, oscar talks - for the next hour about the girl that's recently enrolled into his private school. all logan can do is giggle and smile with oscar at how their relationship had gone down.
even after oscar has hung up, logan still doesn't really know much about the girl he's spent the better part of the past hour talking about. oscar simply refers to her as 'my girl'.
the next time oscar and logan reunite in the uk is at the end of the year. their mothers made an effort to get flights close to one another, letting them run into each other at the mcdonald's in the airport unknowingly while getting food before heading to the hotel.
"dude!" logan cheers, smacking oscar on the shoulder roughly.
"huh?" the smaller boy ahead of him looks up from his phone, turning his head to be greeted by a familiar pair of green eyes. he immediately locks his phone and slips it into his back pocket as realisation slowly dawns on him. "logan!"
"too busy texting on your phone to even notice i was behind you the entire time," logan scoffs jokingly as a hand comes up to pat him on the shoulder.
oscar presses his lips together as a blush creeps up on his cheeks. "sorry. i was texting my girl!"
"my girl this, my girl that," logan rolls his eyes with a smile. "did she not come along with you?"
"no, mate. she's off for a holiday with her family," oscar shrugs, biting down on his lip.
for the rest of the trip, logan will often catch Oscar cheesing at his phone. it doesn't matter when or where: they could be in their hotel room watching a movie, on the track waiting for the race to start, or while they're having a casual chat before they go to bed.
one question haunts logan for the rest of their stay in the uk: who is this girl?
though, it seems that logan is never destined to meet this girl that his best friend spent an entire year gushing about. because at three in the morning on a random saturday in may, his phone buzzes with oscar's picture taking over his entire screen again.
"we broke up."
logan would stay up all morning with oscar that day, letting oscar choke back on tears for the next thirty minutes about the girl that simply packed her bags and moved halfway across the world from him. they would never speak of this day again, even after they both relocated to the uk together to start their junior career.
oscar never speaks of the girl he once devoted his entire self to, but logan often finds himself thinking of her whereabouts and how their relationship had changed oscar.
oscar never uttered the phrase ‘my girl’ when he started dating his long-time girlfriend, lily zneimer. now that they’re in f1 together, logan has at least gotten to know this girlfriend.
he is very well aware that she exists: he’s talked to and touched lily. but the question still lingers in the back of his mind about the unnamed girl, even years later.
the thought of her pops up randomly in his mind as he approaches the paddocks for his sophomore year in the sport. that was prompted by the sight of oscar also making his way into the paddocks slightly ahead of him.
“mate, i heard you’ve got a special guest in your side of the garage today,” oscar teases, stepping away from logan as he reaches out to tap his card into the reader.
“what? who told you that?” logan scoffs, passing through the gantries as he throws his head back in disbelief. “ugh, alex needs to shut his trap. i bet he told lando then lando told you.”
“no, your mum told my mum,” oscar laughs. he nudges his friend with his shoulder. “why? are you shy?”
“piss off.” logan giggles as he drops his head, shaking his head as he bites back a smile. “i’ll see you later, mate.”
“oh, i’ll see you later alright. i’ve got to see who’s making you blush like that,” the australian giggles, shoving him in the direction of the williams racing home.
logan chases his shoulder, managing to land a soft smack before he completely walks away. sure, logan had been seeing somebody for a while, and this weekend was the one he had singled out for you to come out and watch his race.
you were scheduled to come in about thirty minutes for now, about twenty minutes before he is supposed to disappear from the garage for an interview panel.
and he’s excited. this is his first time having his personal guest, who isn’t his mother or brother, in his side of the garage. sure, getting halfsies of alex’s girlfriend from the garage next to him is still something, but it’s just not the same.
so, he tries to pass the next thirty minutes as well as he can. and he does everything: he terrorises his team in the garage, then james sitting his office, then alex in his driver’s room.
still ten minutes left on the clock.
kinda early, but i’m here! :)
logan almost jumps out of his skin at the notification that pops up along with your name. he swallows back the excited scream as he runs down the stairs, pushing himself past alex and his girlfriend who were gathered downstairs with james.
logan swings the glass doors open, slumping his shoulders and feeling a wave of happiness in his chest when he sees you standing shyly by the stairs.
you look very cozy: wrapped in a dark puffer jacket and your bag barely hanging onto your shoulder. he almost wants to disappear with you into his driver’s room and cuddle all day. to hell with his commitments, even if it means fighting off his pr officer.
“hey, you!” logan beams, perking up as he jogs down the few steps to where you were. “you should have texted me when you reached the paddocks. i could have picked you up.”
immediately, he bends down to take your bag into his hands and then he pulls you in for a warm hug. “thanks for making it out this weekend.”
“of course. how can i decline a chance to watch you in your element?” you smile, leaning back slightly and wrapping your arms around him. “thank you for reserving a pass for me.”
“absolutely!” logan cheers, pulling away. “let me bring you inside and introduce you to the team. you don’t mind, right?”
“it’s my pleasure,” you smile.
he puts a hand on your back as he guides you up the racing home, pushing the door open and beckons for you to walk in before him.
“ah, lily, you were right! it’s neither his brother nor his mum that’s making a special appearance this weekend!” alex booms from deep inside the hospitality, throwing his arms in the air. “mr american man got a girlfriend over the winter break?”
“shut up, mate,” logan scowls, moving his hand up to hold your shoulder protecticely. “but, yes. this is… my girlfriend.”
he shyly looks down at you, catching your eye as you glance up at him. you’ve only recently gotten into a relationship with logan; fresh, only six weeks into the title.
“oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” lily steps away from alex’s grasp and holds a hand out to you, “i’m lily. welcome to the paddocks.”
“hi, i’m (y/n). it's so nice to finally meet you,” you smile, taking her hand. “and alex! logan talks about you guys really often. i’m a big fan.”
“oh, logan talks about me,” alex teases in a laugh, also extending his hand out to you. “good things only, i hope.”
“hey, i told you not to tell him that,” logan says through his teeth, giving you a warning stare with wide eyes.
“it’s my first time meeting him, babe,” you laugh to logan, taking his hand in yours to shake.
"oh, can i tell you about logan's antics last year in the paddocks?" alex asks you excitedly, hopping one step toward you.
"or," lily laughs, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend to steer him away from you, "let's let her settle down with logan. you can terrorise her after the day has ended, alex."
"aw, but i've got lists of embarrassing things about him," alex sighs with a frown, though he lets lily guide him away from the new couple. he cranes his neck and grins at you. "i will see you later! i'll prepare a list!"
"so we're avoiding him later," logan smiles at you, now guiding you towards the steps that would lead you to some privacy. "have you run into anyone yet? have you seen liam yet?"
you shake your head. "not yet. but i hope you'll bring me to him so that i can get to say hi? i haven't seen him since we bumped into them at disneyland in december."
"yeah, i know. he's been asking about you." he opens the door to his driver's room to let you in. "so, i've got to run for a bit. i've got an interview panel. it really shouldn't take too long. i'm sorry."
"sorry? what are you sorry for?" you giggle, taking a seat in the corner of the room. your eyes scan the small room, taking note of the endless shirts riddled with williams' logo hung in the corner.
"i don't wanna just leave you here by yourself," logan slumps his shoulders with a frown, resting his hands on his knees as he bends over to meet your eyes. "i feel bad."
"oh, i'll be okay." you wave off his concern and lean in, pressing a chase kiss to his lips. "just text me when you're done. i'll go downstairs and find lily and get to know her better."
"that's a good idea! you guys should really go around the paddocks. there's a concert somewhere too, make the best out of my pass, okay?" logan smiles, his hand cupping your chin. he brushes his thumb over your cheek as he towers over you. "text me if you get lost."
"i won't get lost," you smile, standing up from the seat. "i actually haven't had my coffee yet. do you know anywhere i can get a cup of coffee?"
"oh, lily should know where," logan hums, tapping his bottom lip as he heads for his door. "let me get her for you."
"logan." the firmness in your voice stops logan in his tracks, turning around with curious eyes. "i can find lily on my own. i'll be okay - i'll see you later."
"are you sure? i just feel bad that i'll leave you all by yourself," logan whispers, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "i'll miss you."
"i'll miss you too. but you've got a job to do," you giggle, walking out of his room with your hands wrapped around his arm. "i won't disappear. i'll meet you wherever when you're done. just text me."
"fine."
so logan goes and does his media commitments with alex in tow. and lily clearly had the same idea as you, meeting you at the front doors as alex walked away with logan.
"logan mentioned you were looking for coffee?" lily beams, quickly finding herself by your side as she leads you around the paddocks. "i know the best racing home to get a good cup of, but we might have to sneak in."
"sneak in?" you tilt your head. "is that even allowed?"
"yeah, carmen will get us in! mercedes has got the best cup of coffee to offer around here," lily giggles. "and, you should meet the rest of the girls. what are you going to do for the rest of the evening while the boys are out doing their jobs?"
"i suppose you're right," you shrug with a small smile. "but it's my first time here. should i really be caught sneaking into another team's home?"
"ah, you're with me," lily smiles. "i've got you."
so you actually get your cup of coffee in the back of the mercedes' racing home, now finding yourself huddled together with carmen and lily. they had asked you how you had come to meet logan, especially after the driver had spent most of it behind closed doors and rarely showed himself to the cameras.
it was a pretty simple story. you had been on vacation in new york with a group of your friends, minding your business in the corner of a crowded bar. truthfully, you didn't even want to be there, but it was your best friend's birthday trip. you couldn't say no even if you insisted.
logan had caught sight of you pretending to drink shots your friends were handing you towards the end of the night. eventually, you wound up with about six filled shot glasses hiding behind you, desperately hidden from your friend's prying eyes.
he thought it was funny, and had offered to finish them for you. in exchange for a promise that they were not laced with poison.
you had hit it off, and logan asked you out on a date. while you were unfortunately flying off to another state in a week, he had taken up the challenge and took you out on a date the very next night in the heart of new york city.
the rest is history, as they say.
"does logan actually ever say no to free alcohol?" carmen jokes, blowing into her cup of hot coffee. "wait! there's a concert happening not too far from here. do you guys know who's performing?"
"it should be on the race's instagram page," lily sighs, swiftly taking her phone out of her pocket. "but aren't the guys finishing up their interviews by now?"
"it's a long weekend. would they really notice if we weren't here for one break that they have?" carmen points out knowingly with a smile. "and we've got to show her," carmen gestures towards you, "around. is this your first race weekend?"
you nod shyly, taking a sip from your coffee. "but it's okay, really! don't go out of the way for me."
"that's silly." lily runs a hand through her hair and sighs, resting a hand on her hip. "okay, so, let's meet the guys near the pit building. when they're called in for their driver's briefing, we make a run for the concert area, okay?"
"that sounds like a much better compromise." carmen turns to you with a playful smile. "we will teach you how to make the most out of logan's race pass. you're going to have so much fun with us."
"after the concert, we'll head upstairs to the viewing pen and get a couple of drinks," lily smiles. she glances down at her phone. "oh, seems like they're already done. you guys wanna head there together?"
"sure!"
you start backpedalling from your position, ready to follow the two veteran paddock enjoyers. that seemed like a good idea until your back collides with something - someone - and suddenly you've got mildly hot coffee all over your top.
this is the one time you regret unzipping your jacket to let a bit of the cold in.
"i'm so sorry."
"it's fine," you say with a soft whine, turning around before being flashed by a bright orange jacket and a pair of brown eyes. "it's..." you tilt your head. "do i know you from somewhere?"
the shape of his polite smile and the way his brown eyes look into you are all very familiar. but you just can't quite place a finger on it.
perhaps it's because he looks a lot different from the last time you saw him. you were a wee fourteen-year-old the last time you had seen him before you were forced to pack your bags and move away because of your dad's job.
but, as a kid, you generally did a lot of moving around because of that said job. now you're just trying to single him out by geographic location from the many friends you've made and lost contact with over the years.
"(y/n)?" oscar's eyebrows shoot up, your name coated thickly with an australian accent as his hand lingers on your shoulder.
"oh, you two know each other?" lily excitedly asks, looking between the two younger individuals.
who seem to be very caught up in their unexpected reunion. you'd be shocked too if the girl you had thought was the love of your life shows up at your big boy job with your colleagues' girlfriends with a mercerdes coffee cup in hand.
"yeah, we uh," oscar takes a step away from you and puts his hands in the pockets of his team jacket, "we used to go to school together. in melbourne."
"right," you sigh in relief, finally being able to place him in a particular timeline of your life. you finally remember him: oscar piastri, the school heartthrob with a charming smile and friendly eyes. he had even asked you to be his girlfriend at some point, dating for the better part of a year before you had to leave melbourne with your family. "oscar, right? i'm sorry, my memory's a little bit hazy."
"no, yeah," oscar agrees, scanning you head to toe. "it's been... how long has it been since we last saw each other?"
"very long. it's been years since i left melbourne." you lower your cup and readjust your jacket, trying to hide the prominent wet patch of coffee at the collar of your inner shirt.
but the longer you stare at him, the more the memories come rushing back to the time you spent with the best friend you had made in melbourne for those years. you can vividly remember oscar picking you out in pe to be his teammate, sneaking out of homeroom to grab a juice pack together right down the hall.
you had completely forgotten the tears you shed that day you had to leave melbourne. you swore that you would keep in contact with the warmest brown eyes your eyes have ever seen, but you had simply gotten too busy settling into the new environment that had been thrown at you.
before you knew it, you had dropped your phone into the lake when you were out with your friends and you lost oscar's phone number. you never found a way to reconnect with him, and eventually, he had joined the long list of friends that you had forgotten about.
"i," oscar laughs, "what are you doing here in the paddocks? are you friends with them?"
"no," you straighten your back with a polite smile, "i'm with somebody - logan."
and oscar's never wanted to ever tear apart the paddocks' walls with his own hands before. what do you mean his girl is here with his best friend?
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andcars · 8 days ago
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ㅤ [ 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘 ]
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premise. franco joins the grid late into the season. for a rookie in a williams, he's scored points in his first two races. the achievement is only rubbed onto your face when he keeps asking you for a seat in red bull.
tags #ㅤfemale reader, reader is the team principle's daughter, reader is older than franco, checo isn't a decent driver (no hate), light manipulation, persistent franco, more plot than porn, alcohol but they're not drunk, sleeping his way to red bull driver no.2, open ending wc #ㅤ2k
ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !
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| MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON⠀AO3 DECEMBER WRITING SCHEDULE
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If Aston Martin has Lance Stroll, Red Bull has you. You're not planning to be a driver anytime soon—God forbid a woman join Formula 1 again—but you're very much interested in snagging a seat as a team principal like your dad.
You know a lot of people would die for a seat in the RB19. The RB20 is just as good and you're quite comfortable with one of your drivers leading the championships.
Hah.
Your drivers.
You're starting to think like your dad now.
Other than the usual roster of people, there's those from other teams. Ferrari is a team you see quite a lot, funnily enough. The rivalry isn't bothered by your connections.
The admiration seeps out of them like waterfalls. There's envy from everyone, you're used to it.
Except for one person—one person doesn't have envy nor admiration, they have determination.
Monza is a crowded track. You're sure to stumble upon a few happy Tifosis out there. Outside of that, you meet Franco Colapinto.
You don't keep track of the people who go in and out of a race. Too much action happens in Formula 1 these days. Replacement is a constant.
Franco approaches you along the food stalls around the paddock. He calls you by your name.
"Yes, right? That's you?" His accent is a bit too thick, yet you understand him well.
"Yeah, hi." You smile at him, your hunger sated and distracted once you lay your eyes on him. "You're the replacement driver for LS, right?"
He smiles like he's proud of that fact. "Franco Colapinto," he's not just a replacement is the statement he's trying to say, you believe. "How's the food?"
Funnily enough, he doesn't bring up your dad or your team for the first hour you meet him. It's a Thursday and the drivers are usually needed for media day.
You expect this man to be a highlight of reporters' headlines. Yet here he is, talking to you instead about his deep affiliation to Ferrari. Right. Everyone's a Ferrari fan.
You're walking right in front of your garage—conveniently right beside his. "I need to go. I need to check with the car while the drivers are busy."
"Of course," he smiles, you can see the way his eyes squint. "I also have, ah, stuff to do, yeah. Talk to you later?"
A laugh wants to escape. "Good luck, Franco."
Rejection isn't an easy thing. Franco might be blind to it.
Sunday is rather easy. Though both Ferraris are leading the race, Max is never that far behind. McLaren follows behind. Then a Mercedes. There goes the William overtaking the other Mercedes—
Huh.
The sudden excitement from the commentators made you realise what happened. COL has overtaken RUS, pushing the other back into P10.
That is... impressive for a Williams. All things considered, his teammate is around 19 seconds behind him. He's driving that truck to the max speed.
While the team applauds a nice P4-5 finish, it's Colapinto you're looking at. He finishes his first race in F1 with a solid P7, socring points immediately.
His radio is excited, screaming in delight. Not bad when his teammate is stuck without points.
'Let's ******* go! **** yeah! Hah... Haha. Will you talk to me then?'
Everyone else is confused to what he meant by that. You, on the other hand, have a suspicion on what it is.
He's not really subtle now. The sky has gotten dark yet he waits for you to finish your Red Bull duties. Outside your garage, he's squatted against the wall with his head to his phone.
But as if he's magic, he turns his head up when you exit. He calls for you, standing immediately with a dog-like grin.
"You're done?"
"What are you doing here, Franco?" You were never one for subtlety.
He doesn't look surprised nor taken back by that. He decides to stop pretending as well, "How did you like my race? I think I did pretty good, no?"
You're tempted to just leave now. Nothing good is gonna come out of this. "Franco, right?" He nods. "I'm not in charge of who's sitting on what seat."
"The second seat, yes? The one that's currently 14th place in the standings?"
A sigh escapes you. This man is about to give you a fucking headache.
"Come on," he says, following after you as you start to make your steps out of this conversation. "You saw me out there, yes? In a Red Bull, I could have driven it from P16 to P1. Trust me."
The confidence in this kid is almost admirable.
"We're not interested."
"Aye, come on. Even just think about it? Maybe even just mention my name, yes? Say to your dad, 'Wow, Franco drove good in a Williams.' Right?"
Your car is parked right beside his, funnily enough. "Goodnight, Franco."
He's not fazed as he chuckles, "Goodnight!"
SUNDAY - AZERBAIJAN GRAND PRIX 2024
Despite everything, your eyes are on Franco the entire race. You do put your head in the right space when you see the engineers rustling. COL, though, continues to inch closer and closer to your drivers.
When Checo crashes out, Franco wins P5. Jesus Christ.
When Croft mentions it, you briefly see the expression on your dad's face. He's always just a bit neutral but you see a flash of satisfaction.
Fuck. Are you really going to do this?
It seems pretty reasonable to at least compliment Franco in his drivings. Still, you can't get rid of the stupid shit eating grin he has out of your head. All you're left is with the realisation that he could possible drive P16 to P1.
Before you could do anything about it, you get a horrible fucking call.
"Jesus Christ, I told you to stop calling me!" you scream into your phone after finding a quieter place to call.
It's far from the people. The race has ended and you get a call from your ex. All fine, of course. Just that you're seething with anger.
"I would die before I see your face again, you know that? And—... fuck you! My sex life has nothing to do with you, you piece of shit!"
Okay, he was a good fuck. You haven't had a good fuck in a while.
"Go fuck yourself. If you drunk dial me again, I'm going to file a restraining order in every country possible."
It's embarassing enough that you haven't blocked his number yet, however it's not more embarassing than turning around to see Franco. He looks worried.
"Shit, sorry you had to listen to that," you run a hand through your hair. You're stressed. "It's just getting to me."
"Your, ah, sex life?"
The race. Your ex. Your sex life, yes.
"Sure." You don't have much energy with this. "Sorry again. I'm just gonna—"
"Wait."
Franco holds his arm out, preventing you from leaving. He's seriously one bold rookie. "I'm gonna go out for a drink. Celebrate my P5 with me?"
You laugh. "Shouldn't you be celebrating with your team?"
He shakes his head as if it's normal not to. "I wanna celebrate with you instead. I promise I won't talk about work at all. Promise."
You're an idiot to trust him. You've been alive for years and yet this may be the stupidest thing you've ever done. He manages to get you in a bar and offer up drinks in the quiet of the corner. He's smiling and talking about anything, joking around to get your head out of its drowning state.
He's practically glowing under the warm light of the bar. A smile is consistently on his face. You can feel the radiation of comfort coming from him—or is that the alcohol?
That's a lie. You barely drunk. The thought of releasing all your pented up stress on him is a sober decision.
"Franco."
"Yes?"
You sigh. "Fuck me."
The driver isn't drunk either, you're sure of it. He's had only one glass and it wasn't even finished. It's unbelievable how easy this man is. In his hotel room, you're being pushed on your knees to accomodate his cock.
It's been too long since you had someone inside of you. You're practically shaking with your arms wrapped around his shoulders. His face is red with the heat, groaning like he's the one being fucked.
"Shit," he curses, "You're so... oh, puta (fuck)."
You want to put his mouth to better use. Without another word, you press your lips against his. He feels hot and warm. His bare skin against you heats up your own body. The feeling of his cock twitching to thrust in you is intoxicating.
"Mff.. Fuck me," you can barely speak, his tongue trying its best to pry your mouth open. "Fuck me- ahh."
He's setting the pace too fast. You reach a hand up to hold the headboard, crying out with each thrust. It feels too fucking good to stop. Locking your legs around his waist, you're silently begging him to fuck into you deeper.
His breath is getting heavy. Both of your bodies are getting drenched from the sweat of sex. Every part of you is writhing from the pleasure. Every fucking thrust inside feels way too good.
Pulling away from the kiss, he goes to mouth your earlobe. "So good for me," he moans, hips pistoning coordinately. "So tight for me, amor (love). Fuck, you feel so... agh."
Franco fumbles his words as he takes your legs away from his waist. You'd be worried if he hadn't grabbed you from under your knees and fucked you deeper like that.
Immediately, you came. A gasp is taken out of you as you clench down on his cock. He's rushing to reach his orgasm, filling the rubber with his spend.
The decision is a disaster. Franco is lying on top of you, still hard, and kissing your body like it deserves to be worshipped.
Like this, your mind drifts away from everything. Red Bull, his seat, the phone call. You're lying still with his cock throbbing inside of your cunt, practically begging to go again.
"Why... why are you still hard?" you manage to whisper.
You don't think you ever saw this man embarassed. "I, ah, I usually cum at least twice... or more by my own."
Shit. Fuck. Fucking hell.
"Okay, yeah. I can do it again—wait, Franco!"
He's flipping you on your stomach and fucking you from behind. The pace is the same, if not harsher than earlier. The new position has you struggling for grip. Your knees feel weak as he plows you from behind, his chest right against your back.
"Can't believe you're so-... so into this, huh?" he says, muttering against your skin. "You like it when younger men take you just like this, huh? You like it?"
If you could look at yourself, you'd be able to see how your entire body shivers at the comment. You want to say no. You want to deny.
His hand comes to your chin and makes you look up at him, slightly stretching it.
"Look at me, baby, so fucking sweet for me. Gonna split open on my cock and you're gonna put me in a seat for next year."
Your head drops back down. There's not a single strength in you to retort back at that. He's fucking you way too good and you're whimpering from the overstimulation.
He stopped talking but his words echo in your head. Your pussy tightens up when both of you reach your climax again.
Franco is kinder after sex. He cleans you up, helps you to the bathroom to help you take a piss (embarassing, by the way) and tucks you in his bed. The difference is so odd that you're asking yourself if you hallucinated him saying that. He doesn't even bring it up.
The next race pulls up and he smiles at you from afar. You're walking with your dad, him signing some fan's merch. When they leave, you nudge him.
"Have you noticed how Franco drives?"
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@delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305
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FOOTNOTE ────── the colapinto brainrot got to me. please i beg he's not washed he just got a worse version of the car (iirc). let my boy DRIVEE
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verstawppen · 7 months ago
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hold me close (cl16)
BLURB (1.2k words)
verstawppen writes: something short and sweet for yall. enjoy!
summary: you comfort Charles after a bad Quali warnings: none. fem!reader, F1 journalist!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, secret relationship.
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The day was going by at an excruciatingly slow pace, every time you checked your lock screen it seemed only a minute had passed. You sighed in exasperation as the press conference stretched on well past the scheduled timings. You could see the exhaustion on Yuk and Daniel’s faces even from your position at the back and you knew they were dying to get back to their hotel rooms for a day of rest. But here they were, stuck in the media pen answering pointed questions about their Qualifying. And you were stuck too. You’d already done your duties and compiled all the responses from your interviews with the drivers for your tabloid. You were itching to get back to your hotel room. To get back to Charles. He’d had a bad Qualifying, just as he began his fastest lap of Quali, his gearbox began malfunctioning and Ferrari had to retire the car. He was visibly frustrated when he came back to the Ferrari garage. He just wanted to have a good race for once this season without facing any issues with his car and you felt that he deserved that, being one of the best drivers on the grid. Ever since you’d seen him leaving the garage, running his hands through his damp hair, something he only did when he was being consumed with anxiety, you’d wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and soothe his uneased mind. You were his girlfriend, you should have been there for him. But it wasn’t that easy, you knew the implications it would have on both your careers, more on his than yours, to be seen together. An F1 journalist and Ferrari’s golden boy. The media would have a field day, you would know. A brief buzz from the pocket of your trousers brought you out of your thoughts-
Charles <3 When are you coming back?? I miss you :( You I’m so sorry Cha the conference is running past the schedule. I’m stuck here Charles <3 Want me to come rescue you, cherie? You No it’s alright, love. Try to rest until I come back, you’ve had a long day. When Charles didn’t respond after 15 minutes, you presumed he’d taken your advice and had gone to sleep. You felt guilt churn in your stomach. Charles was always there to take care of you after a long day despite his own exhausting profession. He was an absolute sweetheart, showering you with kisses as soon as you came back to him in his motorhome or his hotel room, sitting you down on his bed before taking off your heels for you, nimble fingers massaging your sore, tender feet.
‘Fuck this’ you thought to yourself. “Hey I think I’m gonna leave early”, you informed your colleague sitting beside you. You were friends and you’d told her about you and Charles. She nodded in understanding, “Go, I’ll cover for you.” You got up from your seat, shooting her a grateful smile as you gathered your things and left the media pen. You called yourself a cab to the hotel where Charles and you were staying. The ride felt longer than when you’d arrived at the paddock in the morning, excited to see Charles race. You rubbed your temple, your concern for Charles growing by the minute.
You practically fell out of the cab when you opened the door in a hurry even before the car had fully stopped. You quickly paid the driver and ran up the steps of the hotel entrance. The cool air of the hotel lobby cooled your skin which had gathered a thin layer of sweat from your rushed movements and increasing stress. You impatiently waited for the elevator and immediately pressed your floor number once you were inside.
The elevator opened with a ding and soon you were standing in front of Charles’s hotel room fishing around with one hand for the keycard he’d given you while your other hand held your suit jacket and your bag. You scanned the card and opened the door. You tried to be as quiet as possible and closed the door behind you with a soft click. You removed your heels, set them down on the shoe rack and deposited your stuff onto a countertop near the room’s entrance. But maybe your movements weren’t as discreet as you thought because as soon as the bed came into view, you saw Charles had woken up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He let out a silent yawn but as soon as his eyes fell on you, his face lit up. He sat upright, a wide grin on his face which you mirrored. You quickly made your way over to his side of the bed and sat down in front of him, feeling his hands wrap themselves around your frame. He was wearing a black hoodie, his favourite one which you liked to steal sometimes. You buried your in his neck, he smelled of aftershave and his characteristic slightly musky cologne. You held him close, your fingers clutching onto his hoodie.  His chin rested atop your head, his left hand tracing abstract circles on your back. It was everything you both needed. You pulled away and looked up into his sparkling green orbs. “Hi, love” “Hi, cherie” Even though he’d been calling you ‘cherie’ for more than 2 years now, the nickname never failed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached to cup his face, thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. “How are you?”, you asked. From this proximity, you could see the dark circles forming under his mesmerising eyes, a detail that the cameras thankfully never seemed to capture. And it was good, you knew Charles would hate for the world to think that he wasn’t able to take the heat. But at the end of the day, he was only human. He smiled before replying to you, his voice slightly raspy from having just woken up,” I’m good now that you’re here, mon amour.” Your hands moved from his face into his curled locks and he relished the feeling of your fingers lightly massaging his scalp, making waves of comfort and relief wash all over his tired body as his head found its resting place on your collarbone, lightly taking in the scent of your sweet floral perfume. He unconsciously smiled against your neck. Carding your fingers through his hair just the way you knew he liked, you spoke to him in a low, comforting sort of voice, “You did so well today, Charles. You almost had the fastest lap of the Quali despite having to work with such a difficult car. You got the best you could out of that car and that’s enough for now. Things will get better, Ferrari is working on the issue, right? You’ll soon have a car worthy of your talent and you’ll be back on the podium in no time, love.” He hummed in acknowledgement of your encouraging words. It meant a lot to him, more than you’d ever know. He pressed a small kiss to your collarbone in appreciation. “Thank you, ma cherie” You smiled, your eyes closing to relish the warmth of his presence in your embrace. “Anytime, Cha”
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oh-obrien · 4 months ago
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Hi! Can you write a fanfiction about max verstappen and a redbull athlet reader who max has a big crush on?
Thank you if you write it . 😊
MY FIRST F1 REQUEST
*SCREECHES*
I ABSOLUTELY BANGED OUT THIS BLURB IN LIKE HALF AN HOUR!!! Feel free to send me more F1 requests and leave any feedback I will take it all (especially since I’m newer to the fandom).
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“I’m just super grateful for the opportunity to be here honestly,” you pushed your sunglasses up on to the top of your head as you spoke into the microphone that the Red Bull social media team member held. “Being a Red Bull athlete means so much to me and getting invited to a GP is honestly such an honor.”
“And you won a national championship earlier this year as a Red Bull athlete, that must of been an amazing experience.” The young social media women tilted the microphone back towards you as you nodded.
“I mean,” you paused as you saw the team members begin to exit the garage, looking for a certain set of blue eyes that had slid into your DM’s a couple weeks earlier to invite you to the Las Vegas Grand Prix. “It was my third national championship in a row and my first as a Red Bull athlete, plus it’s always nice getting to represent such a large brand as a female athlete.”
With recent changes in the NIL rules you were able to begin raking in sponsorships while still competing in the NCAA, and with your stellar performances in your previous seasons you has somehow managed to gain the attention of Red Bull. Being one of the top women’s lacrosse players in the world wouldn’t get you as far as some other Red Bull athletes, but being able to promote women’s sports under such a large name meant more to you than any fame could.
“We noticed some pretty big names reposting the spotlight Red Bull released on you as their first athlete to join under the new NIL rules,” your eyes followed the moment in the garage as more pit crew members began to pool out, but you still couldn’t find who you were looking for. “Anyone in particular stand out to you?”
You let out a breathy chuckle and hugged your vintage Red Bull bomber jacket tighter around you before letting out a long ‘umm’, “I was happy to see anyone promoting it honestly, it really just is such a big accomplishment amd-”
“Ahh she did tell me thank you,” a familiar voice cut you off as a warm pair of hands met the exposed skin of your waist, maneuvering you over slightly to make room for them to squeeze behind you. “A very nice message actually.” None other than Max Verstappen himself was stood next to you now, you felt your jaw drop slightly but quickly recovered. “I’m sorry to cut this short but I need to steal this one for a second, Red Bull duties call.”
Max offered the young woman interviewing you a curt nod before he wrapped an arm around the top of your shoulders, leading you towards the garage. “That was so very smooth of you,” you looked up slightly to meet Max’s eyes as you followed him past the garage.
“I try,” he offered you a dimpled smile, his eyes sparkling slightly as a small laugh fell past his lips. “So, you actually came.” You watched as a small blush tinged his cheeks as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, a small nervous bounce on the balls of his feet following.
“I told you I would,” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the wall, looking up at perhaps the most famous Red Bull athlete. “Had to see what the three time world champion was all about.’ You felt a smirk pull at your lips as you offered Max a small wink.
He pulled a hand out of his jeans and nervously scrubbed at his face before taking a deep breath. “So uhh, about that dinner I promised you,” Max trailed off nervously.
“That is what I flew all the way here for, I was promised a win and a date,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and chewed on it nervously. “I think you need a little bit of good luck before the race though to secure a win.” You met Max’s eyes as you watched his blush spread further up the apples of his cheeks and down into his neck.
“Oh?” his lips pulled into a small confused ‘o’ as you took a step closer to him.
“Yeah,” you wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and cradled his cheek with your hand as you pushed up slightly on his tip toes, “every good Red Bull athlete needs a good luck charm.” Your breath fanned over his lips as you moved closer. “And I can be yours for the night,” you finally met his lips and moved yours gently against his before carefully gripping his bottom lip between your teeth. Pulling away slightly you heard him groan as your teeth pulled on his bottom lip.
“And I,” you pecked his lips once more, “am happy to be yours for the night.” As you finally pulled fully away you watched as Max reached a hand up to run it over his lips, a large smile forming on them next. “Text me after the race!” You began to strut away from the shocked driver, pausing to turn over your shoulder and offer him a wink that made the blush spread even further. Operation woo Max Verstappen was on and you weren’t going to lose.
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gottalovef1 · 2 years ago
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I'm home late. - Toto Wolff
Suddenly had some inspiration to write. :) It's a bit short and I have not written anything in a while, so apologies if there are any mistakes.
summary: Toto is coming home a little later than expected after a long weekend in Baku.
warnings: none
words: 1.6K
It was Sunday evening and you had watched the Azerbaijan GP from home, you had witnessed a though weekend for Mercedes and all you wanted was to cuddle with your husband, who was still there. You knew that you couldn’t, because it was a six hour flight home and he had not texted yet that he was on the plane, meaning that he surely would be home after midnight. He had called you after the race, saying that the team did what was their limit for this weekend, wondering why the safety car always had such a bad timing. It wasn’t the first time Lewis or George had pitted right before an incident happened causing a safety car. You told him not to worry about it too much, there are still plenty of races left and everyone has their eyes on Imola.
After Toto finished his phone call with you, he was told to do interviews, he had dismissed Lewis already since he had to go somewhere else, meaning that there was one person less to fill in the press duties. Hearing your voice made him want to go home even more. after spending so much time at home in the previous weeks it was slightly strange to be on the road again. he had planned to be home before midnight European time, but due to a long debrief and an unplanned meeting, he knew he was not going to make that. therefore he texted his wife saying he would be late so that she would just go to bed without him. Sightly annoyed after a long day he arrived back at the hotel, quickly grabbing his stuff. The whole evening he had wondered how your first weekend with the F1 academy went, this was an important moment for you, which he didn’t want to discuss over the phone.
Right as your were putting your son to bed, Toto called. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know I’m almost on the plane and that you should just go to bed because I won’t be home shortly.” You smiled at the sight, he looked a little tired and his hair was a mess. “that is fine honey, as long as I find you next to me in the morning.” you smiled weakly to your phone. “I will be there.” He smiled. “good, I just put Jack to bed, I’m sure he will be happy to see you in the morning.” Toto’s smile grew wider. “I got him a little souvenir from Baku, I’m sure he will like it.” you nodded. “you’re not bringing home another helmet are you?” Toto chuckled at your words. “no, no, don’t worry, he’ll see it in the morning.” Toto laughed. “ETA is 2AM, safe me some space in the bed.” Toto smiled weakly, indicating that he had arrived at the plane and that he had to hang up the phone. “and promise me you will not stay awake this time, I know you have a lot to tell me but we can do that during breakfast.” You chuckled. “I can’t promise but I was really thinking about going to bed early, you are not the only one who’s had a busy weekend.”  Then Toto said it was time for him to hang up the phone, you’d say goodbye to each other. You couldn’t wait for him to be next to you in the bed. You were still right outside of Jack’s room, so you checked if he was asleep or secretly overhearing the conversation you had just had with his father. “Is Papi coming home tonight?” you heard a small voice in the dark. “yes darling, he will be here in the morning.” you turned on his little night light which you’d forgotten a second ago. “And now it is time for you to sleep, it’s just one more sleep before Papi is home.” You kissed his forehead. “see ya in the morning.” that was something he’d been started to recently say every night before he went to sleep. “good night baby.” You shook your head and smiled, he sure has that goofiness from his dad.
Toto’s flight was boring, he had tried to get some sleep and ended up getting just about one hour. When he woke up he had no idea what day or time it was, also because the time on his phone had returned to the time it was in Monaco. “the time switched back and we’re a few minutes away from landing.” Bradley spoke, as he looked at Toto, trying not to laugh. “Fuck I shouldn’t have slept, I feel like I’m on another planet.” Toto spoke, his voice sore from the cold air in the plane. “you also look like you just went to another planet, but don’t worry you’re still on earth and we’re almost home.” Bradley looked on his phone. “twenty minutes to be exact.” He added. “good I’m even more tired than before.” Toto’s head was hurting like crazy. He hadn’t slept too well in Baku and for some reason he had nothing to do on the plane which made him incredibly bored before he fell asleep. “next time please wake me up when I fall asleep, this is no fun.” Toto spoke, a bit cranky. “I’ll ensure to tell everyone that travels with you.” Bradley spoke unserious. “thanks.” Causing him to laugh even more, knowing that Toto thought he sure would.
When he arrived home the lights were all turned off. Good, he thought because that would mean that you were asleep already. As quiet as possible he dropped his luggage in the hallway, before taking of his shoes and jacket and heading up the stairs. He had already done his night routine during the final minutes of the flight so that he could go straight into bed. First he checked on Jack, quietly opening the door to his room, seeing him fast asleep in his bed. It was a bit of a routine for him to check on his son right as he arrived home after his bedtime. Then he went to his own bedroom, trying not to make any sounds while opening the door. Quickly he went to the bathroom to take off his clothes not bothering to put on some pajamas, almost dropping his belt on the concrete floor, which would’ve woken up the whole neighborhood for sure. He looked at the belt in his hand, which had almost reached the floor  for a second, before laying it down on a towel so that it would not make a sound. He turned off the light and then used the brightness of his phone as a light to find the bed. He stopped for a second, enjoying the sight of you sleeping in the bed. Your hair was already a mess but he still wondered how he got so lucky to have you as his wife. Carefully he put his phone down on the nightstand, not unlocking it so that he would still have a source of light as he got in the bed carefully.
You were a light sleeper, so you felt movement onto the bed. You kept your eyes closed, but you couldn’t resist smiling a little knowing that your man was back home. You were sure of it when you felt his leg against yours, as you may have been a little bit off your side of the bed onto his. This was also the confirmation you needed to turn over and move a bit closer to him. He knew by then that you weren’t really sleeping anymore and he was sure of it when you opened your eyes for a second. “hi.” You whispered, you noticed the source of light which made you able to see his face. He simply replied with a kiss on your forehead. “how was the flight.” You’d always ask that. “good, lets talk in the morning.” you opened your eyes again as you heard his sore voice. “are you ok?” you wondered, looking into his eyes, he looked like a ghost. “yea, I fell asleep on the plane and I woke up with a headache, sore voice and the feeling that I was on another planet.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. “let me guess Bradley brought you back to planet earth.” Toto just nodded. “yea, it was just switching time zones. “you’re just tired honey, let’s just get some sleep.” you moved closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and moving your hand through his hair and letting it rest on his neck, carefully pulling him closer so you could kiss him. Those small kisses meant so much though they were so little. He then shifted a little so his head was on the same level as yours, wrapping his strong arms around you while he cuddled into your neck. “looks like you missed me after all.” you whispered, moving your fingers through his hair. “always, keep going.” He mumbled into your neck. “good night my love.” You whispered, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “love you.” he muttered before letting out a big sigh. You just knew how tired he was from the fact that he didn’t bother sleeping in just a boxer, which you thought was funny. You smiled into his hair, continuing moving your fingers through his hair before the both of you fell into a deep sleep.  No matter how often he was gone, no matter how used you were to it, there was no better feeling than falling asleep and holding onto each other like it’s been months since you last saw each other.
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ummick · 4 months ago
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Mick Schumacher On F1 Exile: "It Has Been A Draining Few Years"
The son of F1 legend Michael Schumacher speaks to Kieran Jackson about his role as a Mercedes reserve driver, his deep desire to get back on the Formula 1 grid in 2025, and eyeing victory this weekend at the 24 Hours of Le Mans
The duties of a reserve driver in Formula 1 are unique, distinctive and unlike most back-ups in other sports. With the chances of a last-minute call-up to the cockpit extremely unlikely, you lead a life in the shadows; out of mind, but never fully out of sight. In Mick Schumacher’s case, he has been omnipresent in the F1 paddock for more than three years, but, to his detectible discontent, the last eighteen months have been without a race seat. "Fighting your way back is exhausting," Schumacher tells The Independent, in the familiar surroundings of the Mercedes motorhome. "You get this cake presented to you which is really good, but you're not allowed to eat it, and you have to watch everybody else eat it. So it's tough, for sure, but I know why I'm doing it."
Being the son of a seven-time world champion carries its own unusual burden. But the German, still something of a racing novice at the age of 25, wholeheartedly believes he is yet to be given a fair crack of the whip. His rookie year with Haas in 2021 was a write-off. Superior to teammate Nikita Mazepin, not finishing last was an achievement in one of the worst-performing cars in F1 history. His second year was where it all went wrong, however, finishing thirteen points behind the experienced Kevin Magnussen. But that wasn’t the issue; moreso, the expensive crashes which resulted in Netflix star Guenther Steiner losing patience and wielding the axe. Which brings us to now. Schumacher quickly accepted an olive branch from Mercedes boss Toto Wolff, with Schumacher Sr concluding his career at the Silver Arrows in 2012, and he now plays backup to Lewis Hamilton and George Russell. No chances as fortuitous as Ollie Bearman's in Saudi Arabia have come his way, though. "Frankly, the way I was two years ago has nothing to do with the person I am today," he insists. "F1 has been a dream I've had since I was five years old and I'm not ready to let go of that dream, right Sometimes you feel like you have a chance, then it actually never ends up happening because something else happens. It's been an emotional rollercoaster and a draining last few years, but I'm working my way back." Some would see the time away as an opportunity to rehabilitate and reset, but not Schumacher. One attribute that cannot be questioned is his commitment; he has barely missed a race in person and is regularly seen standing, headset on, dutifully listening to procedures next to Wolff in the garage.
That's the mantra when your life is "all about racing," and it is that hard-nosed, full-throttle attitude that sees him embark on the ultimate racing challenge this weekend: the prestigious 24 Hours of Le Mans event, driving for Alpine in their first year in endurance competition. "I'm very excited. I've got a huge amount of respect for it," says Schumacher, about an event which his father competed in before his F1 career started in 1991, finishing fifth. "It's going to be very little sleep, long driving times at night, and the testing has been tough so far. We're going for the win-that's the ultimate target-but if we're crossing the finish line after 25 hours I think we can be very proud, too, as this project was only set up eleven months ago. The turnaround has been very fast. But the mentality is to win because… why compete, otherwise?" Yet don't be fooled: a career in WEC is not at the forefront of his mind just yet. Because amid a flurry of driver changes ahead of the 2025 season and the fluctuating nature of the F1 driver market, Schumacher is desperate to carve a route back into the sport he loves. Alex Albon famously provided then-Williams CEO Jost Capito a racing CV in 2021 to sell his skills, littered with junior successes alongside F1 accomplishments. Could Schumacher, Formula 2 champion in 2020, do the same? "Maybe I will start writing my CV and send it to people!" he says. "It's never been a secret; my goal is to be back on the grid. I've shown in multiple ways that I am capable of winning championships. It's just a matter of it fitting into somebody's schedule - does it fit into their plan?" It won't be lost on him that Alpine, his WEC team, now have an F1 seat available in 2025, with Esteban Ocon departing at the end of this season. The French team look to be Schumacher's best option at this stage. A return to Haas seems unlikely, while forming an all-German partnership with Nico Hulkenberg at Sauber (soon to be Audi) also appears to be a long shot. And nobody is even mentioning him as a replacement for Hamilton at Mercedes, with Italian teenager Kimi Antonelli the favourite at this stage. But frankly, Schumacher won't care where. As he says, "any team is a valuable option," and, simply put, he just wants another invite to the twenty man party. "Theress a lot which hasn’t been seen yet, especially from a driving point of view," he says. "I understand how I could have improved [at Haas], and there's a lot more to show from my side. It's all about, what do you want in your team right now? Do you want somebody who you can build a team around? Good for marketing? Purely shut up and drive? There are so many different types of drivers. As for me, I'm really hungry for it. I just need to keep performing in WEC, showing everybody what I can do. Then people will know what they get if they hire me, and hopefully I'll be able to prove to everybody that they made the wrong decision in not keeping me."
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eye-f0r-an-eye · 9 months ago
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salutations to whoever may come across this.
hi!
my name is leo and i like to write fanfiction, typically with a male, or sometimes and unspecified reader (but i'm flexible). i've simply never posted my work before and i would like to change that as of now :)
i'm also not a fem aligned dni account, simply because i do not care who reads my work. i believe writing should be enjoyed by all kinds of people alike!
however, because i'm planning to write mostly nsfw fanfictions, that renders this account as a minors dni account :( for legal reasons
while these fics will be dominantly nsfw with a male reader, i have no objections towards requests that ask for specific and more unique details (though, i doubt i'll round up much of an audience for requests, but that is ok). for the meantime, i will just write whatever comes to mind whenever i have the time to write it, despite the fact i take bloody forever to complete a single work :/
that being said, i more than likely will have zero routine as to when i will write and post. i simply write in my free time and typically have zero motivation to finish a story that i have started. but i am working on changing that as i would like to become a somewhat accomplished author on this platform. but i am always looking to improve and get better with each piece i write, meaning i am open to constructive criticism! emphasis on the 'constructive'
currently, i have a strong affinity for lewis hamilton, and plan to write mostly for him :)
i was a bit disappointed to discover limited variety regarding f1 fics with male readers (nsfw in particular) and i hope to bring as much of my work into the mix as possible. let me know if you'd be keen to read that!
however, that does not limit the content i will create to just f1. i also adore writing for the call of duty franchise, typically for gaz above anyone else. i will also post a bit of sleep token on the side!
essentially, anything that i suddenly have a mild to intense interest in, i will likely write a little something for it. they're typically for my own amusement but i now intend to perfect these little scribbles and entertain others with them :)
so to whoever may be reading this, you are more than welcome to get in touch with me for absolutely anything, i enjoy interacting with others! be it a request or simply just my opinion on a matter, i have no issues whatsoever. come say hi!
and to those who made it to the end, i hope you hang around in the long run and enjoy my future creations :)
thank you for reading!
farewell for now.
-leo :3
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internetgremlin-writes · 2 years ago
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Passionate sexy times with carlos after he comes back to the hotel drenched with champagne 🥵🔥
When I say you're about to get SEVERAL versions of this... I don't even care this man deserves the world I will write him winning A THOUSAND TIMES OVER (also the gifs from today aren't in yet so bare with)
@hnmaga-blog here is one hopefully BEFORE you sleep!
Warning: SMUT
im actually so overwhelmed with all this im struggling to sit still and write so I've got the highlights on for the race I've just watched lmao
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You had screamed yourself hoarse. Hands clasped so tightly your nails had made small crescents in your skin, as red as the garage you were sat in, your eyes locked on that screen. You didn't remember even breathing during that last safety car. You'd been bouncing on the balls of your heals, mumbling half of prayers to every god you could imagine, and some you were sure you'd just made up.
And then it happened.
He sailed past his teammate, took his lead back and held onto it like a dog with a bone. And you watched, screaming, shouting, sobbing as the chequered flag waved and Carlos Sainz, your Carlos, became an F1 Winner. You felt like you were erupting, your entire body splintering as you burst with joy and pride and relief and a million other emotions that you couldn't name as you turned his mother who had the same look on her face and sobbed freely onto her shoulder.
You didn't stop crying through the entire podium ceremony. Everyone saw Carlos as this new man. New confidence, power, and control over the car. The Carlos who had finally settled into Ferrari and was proving everyone wrong. You didn't. You saw the teenager you'd grown up with. You saw the Carlos who'd just gotten into his first race car, not a go-kart, who'd come away with a P5 and ran at you, cheeks flush and grin big as he assured his best friend that he was going to win a Formula 1 race one day.
The look he gave you when he finally found you in the crowd was identical. And then he was grinning at you and winking and your stomach dropped to the floor because you knew what was coming next.
It didn't help that you didn't think you'd seen anyone look sexier drenched in champagne. With his image blown up on the screens behind him, you could see every curl of his hair that was plastered to his neck, the flush on his cheeks, and the smile that really, truly reached his eyes.
You'd finally stopped crying. He had a lot of media duties now, and then team debrief and photos and lord only knows what else. You knew you had some time. You slipped back to the garage, finding yourself sidling up to Rupert with a horribly poor acting job of feigning tiredness and asking for Carlos' spare hotel room key. There was no way Rupert believed you were tired, but he handed you the key with a knowing look in his eye.
Your relationship wasn't exactly a secret, you'd been best friends since childhood; your father a British rally driver who had competed with Carlos Sainz Sr which had evolved into a longstanding family friendship. You spent your teenage years going through phases of crushes on the Spaniard. In your early twenties it started as a mortally embarrassing hook-up after a night of drinking that was perhaps a bit too soon following a messy break-up of yours. And then that hook-up turned into casual sex on the rare occasions you saw each other - nothing more than two young, hot people letting off some steam. The casual hook-ups turned into him inviting you to his races, getting dinners before, and staying for whole weekends. During a challenge video he did with Torro Rosso, he let slip that his 'girlfriend' wouldn't have been impressed with his poor attempts at cooking.
You'd called him that night and asked, with a cold dread in your stomach you tried to ignore, whether his girlfriend was currently in a hotel he'd paid for close to the track for the next race weekend. He'd said yes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and that was it. You were Carlos' girlfriend. You never really went public with the news, he just started appearing more on your social media and you on his - and the fans put the puzzle together pretty quickly.
Once in the hotel you changed into a dress you'd brought with you- just in case. It wasn't really a dress, more a virtually see-through slip with lace stained a deep, dark red.
You only had to wait an hour before you heard the familiar fumbling of the door handle and Carlos stumbled into the room, a faraway grin still on his face. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you grin fading from his face and something hungry stealing over his eyes.
He was still in his race suit and first place cap, the trophy in one hand and champagne bottle in the other. You could see the fabric of it was still soaked, shining. You could smell the alcohol on him. He placed the prizes reverently on the desk, trophy beside bottle beside cap, which he took off and gently folded before shaking his hair out. It was wet, black and shiny and sticking up in all directions.
"What is this?" He asked, slowly approaching you and gesturing at your outfit. You shrugged at him, a languid smile of red lipstick breaking out across your features.
"What? You can't handle one more prize?" His eyes visibly darkened, his grin becoming wolfish as he stole towards you.
"It depends," he stood directly in front of you, fingers toying with one of the spaghetti straps holding your outfit up, before drawing it down and over your shoulder with ease. Just his fingers grazing your skin was enough to make you shiver. "Do I have to share this podium?" His race suit hit the floor and he stepped out of it, already pulling the fireproof top over his head and allowing it to join the pile.
"This one's all yours, you earned it,"
That was all it took for Carlos to lunge at you, pinning you to the bed as he kissed you with something you'd never felt before. It was electric, charged with liquid serotonin. You didn't think you'd ever experience anything so pure and so filthy so simultaneously. He was groaning into your mouth as you pulled on the knots formed in his wet hair, your hands grappling to touch him everywhere you could.
You found yourself laughing into his mouth as his tongue slipped into yours at the same time you realised his skin was damp, everywhere. He pulled back, watching you, amused.
"What?" You'd not heard him sound so light. So happy and carefree and joyful in so long. It was like a breath of fresh air that made you fall in love with him all over again.
"You're soaking wet!" That made him laugh, collapsing his weight onto your chest as you felt hot puffs of air in your neck, making you squirm below him. He quietened, pressing kissing along the vast expanse of exposed skin that was your chest. His hand was sliding along your thigh, making its way all the way up until you could feel him so close to where you wanted him so badly.
"I'm supposed to say that to you, no?" Before you could say anything you felt his finger dip between your folds, swiping experimentally. He raised an eyebrow at you when he realised you weren't wearing any underwear. His grin faded to a smirk. "Ah, but so are you," he held his hand up, and you could see his fingers glistening in the low light.
"You looked so good up there," you murmured, arching your back to press your chest against his. He groaned appreciatively, at your words or the way you were pushing the waistband of his fireproofs and boxers down, you weren't sure. His head dropped into the space of your neck as you wrapped a hand around him and started to move lazily, enjoying the way he responded to you with a shudder and a guttural noise.
"I was thinking about this in my interviews," he admitted, a guilty smile and what you thought might have been a blush creeping across his features as he bucked into your hand once more. He cast a glance over his shoulder, to where his small pile of treasure was sat on the desk, which struck you with an idea.
He gave a small moan as you slid out from underneath him.
"What?"
You didn't say anything as you moved, deliberately swaying your hips far more than usual as you crossed the room, turning to him with a devilish grin on your lips. You elegantly lifted yourself up, seating yourself directly beside his trophy and allowing your legs to fall open.
"You should be able to see your winnings," Carlos looked like he's died and gone to heaven, all too eager to rush over and have you in his arms once more, kissing you feverishly, urgently.
"I love you," he mumbled against your lips "You're the best prize," you were a little distracted, he was standing so close that he was brushing against your clit, sending small shockwaves down your spine.
"I love you too,"
He hesitated as you reached down, lining him up with your entrance, you gave him a quizzical look.
"But I haven't-" you kissed his cheek.
"I warmed up before you got here," you admitted. Carlos loved to make sure you were fully seen to before he even thought of having sex with you. Usually, you loved how attentive he was to you, but today, well today the only thing you wanted to celebrate was him and okay - so the image of him soaked to the skin in champagne on that podium had been enough to get you going so much so that waiting for him to come back had been a little too long. Carlos must have appreciated the gesture because he almost growled as he pushed into you.
"Dios Mio, I will never forget how good you feel," he groaned into your neck, beginning to build pace. You were gripping his shoulder, knowing full well your nails would be marking his skin but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You'd waited so long for this moment that the euphoria of it all building rapidly within you and you felt your stomach tightening already. Carlos had one hand on your hip and the other, you noticed, was gripping the base of his trophy.
"My winner," you purred into his ear, knowing exactly what he needed to hear.
"Be careful," his voice was low, strained and dangerous. "If you want to-" Carlos was unable to finish his sentence for you were already gone, your walls clenching around him as your head fell back, calling his name repeatedly in bliss. Carlos shuddered, his entire body stilling as you felt him come with you, his lips pressed against yours in one last burning kiss as your hands knotted in his hair to keep you grounded to him.
He stilled, his hand on your hip becoming an arm wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against him. You pecked his lips, only pulling away enough so that your foreheads were pressed together.
"Congratulations, Carlos,"
He was still breathing too heavily to speak, his eyes closed and eyelashes spread across the top of his cheeks as he nodded against you. He was still smiling.
"Celebrate with me in the shower?"
You grinned at his thoughts, knowing exactly where this night was heading, and that you'd only just scratched the surface of the celebrations to come.
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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago
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hi my love! love your works. can i have a slice of carrot cake with some tiramisu with a side of a vodka shot for carlos sainz? thanks so much
bakery menu
want to order your own treat? then check out the menu! we're always baking up smiles and accept orders from fandoms other than f1 (like call of duty, bg3, or you can suggest one of your own)! the bakery is for your enjoyment, so please check out the menu! as for this one, i thought it was interesting because i feel like this alluded to oral sex, which i don't get a lot of. so this was fun to write! so thank you for the order and enjoy! <3
carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + shot of vodka (rough sex) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, (rough) oral sex (carlos receiving), dirty talk, degrading language, dom!carlos
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when asked the question, tits or ass, carlos would always respond with, "mouth." now mouth wasn't one of the options, but he picked it anyway. he could go without tits and ass if it meant having a pair of pretty lips around his achy cock.
sure pillow-y tits were nice to fuck and it was a sight to see a pretty ass bounce on his cock. but to see his beloved girlfriend on her knees, those pretty eyes gleaming up at him as you took his entire length in your mouth. now, that was better than any tits or ass!
when carlos got your mouth on him, he loved it rough. he loved when his sweet little girlfriend took his cock so pretty. it made something surge in him as he held onto your head and thrust his cock into your mouth.
your pretty lips around the length, sometimes hitting right to the base. your nose in his pubic hair as you drooled all over yourself. he always tried to get a photo of you in that position, but always ended up so lost in the pleasure that he never did.
maybe carlos did have a fetish for your lips. even went as far as to help put on your lipstick for an event with ferrari. your chin in one hand while his other hand worked to get the make up on.
you looked angelic. like a gift from the heavens to him. it made his heart leapt and it lingered on his mind for the rest of the event. at one point he saw you sip a coke zero through a straw and it made him almost bite his first in frustration.
he liked long lasting wear, in dark colours. nothing too unnatural, but in all fairness you could choose how you wanted to look. if you wanted neon pink lipstick, then by all means go at it. but when wrapped around his cock, he liked a good plum colour.
at the event you were wearing a dark red, which he thought you looked beautiful in. even more beautiful when you got home and undressed.
you got on your knees in front of the bed you shared almost every night and kissed at his cock. a few lipstick marks got onto his erection, which made his stomach twist into knots as he held your hair and guided your mouth onto his cock.
“my little slut to ruin.” he said lowly, "my beautiful, beautiful little slut, you knew what you were doing when you chose that colour." he sank his cock into your throat and rocked against you.
you felt like a dream around his cock, as you gazed up at him as you took it almost to the root. you were painfully beautiful, the woman he wanted to be with forever.
you rocked your head against him and felt a bead of sweat down your neck. the room felt hotter as your cheeks heated up. you took him like a champ.
"so beautiful, my beautiful little slut. i love the sight of you on your knees. you are so painfully pretty on your knees." he groaned as he continued to move your head up and down his cock.
you whimpered around his cock and it made his heart flutter.
"i love you so much. i wonder how the others would feel if they saw you like this. on your knees for me, letting me fuck that sweet throat of yours." he groaned as he moved your head faster.
his cock hit the back of your throat and it made your head swim. you were just so painfully adorable. he sang dirty praises as he bulled his cock into your throat.
you whined and whimpers as your nose buried into his pubic hair, you felt the heat in your body. you clawed at his thighs and felt the heart flutter in your chest.
"pretty girl."
you closed your eyes and let him move you to his liking. you took in the sounds of his praise as you rubbed your thighs together.
"swallow it. all of it. you'll be good for me and take it all?" he said, his voice steady but had a bit of gentleness to it, "i know you can, my love." he continued to thrust into your mouth a few more times before he finished down your throat.
he held your head for a few moments, letting your feeling his softening cock in your mouth then pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. he licked his lips and ran his fingers through your hair.
"beautiful."
you wiped your chin and got up on shaky legs. you were naked in bed with him and you tried not to get your face onto the pillow in fear of getting your make up all over the the pillows. and while carlos could be a 'mean' dom sometimes, that didn't mean that he was a horrible partner.
"you lay on your back, my love. i'll get you some make up wipes." and just as he applied the lipstick onto you, he was just are careful taking it all off of you.
he whispered praises to you as he got all of it off of you. he threw out the wipes then got back into bed with you. he stripped down as well to his underwear and curled up next to you. his arms around you and his lips at your cheek.
when carlos was asked if he was a tits or ass man, he'd respond with 'lips', but not just anyone's lips. your lips. <3
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formulavilla7 · 3 years ago
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Max Verstappen x Horner daughter reader
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This is the second chapter to my first F1 fan fiction. I want to apologise for taking so long to write it but December was busy with uni deadlines and Christmas. Then I’ve been working. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Hopefully I can write Chapter 3 soon as well
It had been two weeks since Max and Y/N had last seen each other and to say that both of them were not in the slightest excited to see each other again would be a massive lie.
In between training, factory visits and other Red Bull duties, Max found his mind wandering towards Y/N, so much so that he missed the question the interviewer asked him about the race weekend that they were going into.
Ah yes, Baku. The circuit in the Azerbaijani capital that was famed for being quite a dangerous one. Crashes and accidents were frequent. He remembered the crash he’d had himself with Daniel back in 2018 when they’d been teammates. Daniel had gone straight into the back of him trying to overtake and he vividly remembered the wrath that both of them had faced from Christian Horner. The same Christian Horner who’s daughter he was thinking about.
He chastised himself wondering what on Earth he was getting himself into. He’d met her for little over ten minutes and she’d had this much of an effect on him. He blinked and tried to banish her from his mind, at least for the remainder of the press conference, so that he didn’t make more of a fool of himself.
He successfully navigated the rest of the interview with no further hitches and quickly left after being dismissed to return to the Red Bull garage, where as luck would have it, Y/N Horner was standing.
She turned, sending him a bright smile that he couldn’t help but return. He decided that he’d go and talk to her but the universe clearly had other ideas as at that moment her father called for him. He cursed Christian inwardly but went to him anyway, hoping that he’d be quick. He wasn’t.
He’d only had time for small smiles since as he was either driving in free practice or trying to help the team optimise his car for qualifying. Qualifying came and went in a chaotic manner as his fellow drivers crashed leading to numerous red flags. He qualified third behind his title rival Lewis Hamilton, which wasn’t ideal but he’d always said that he’d rather qualify third than second because you could slipstream the leader which happened to be Charles Leclerc.
With that in mind he felt quietly confident about the race, which aged well in hindsight. He’d watched as Hamilton easily got past Leclerc on lap two, hoping that he could do the same. Lap 7 came and he’d seized his opportunity to get past the Ferrari and chase down Lewis and Sergio had done the same. It was all going so well and it got even better when Hamilton had a slow stop under the yellow flag. Max was leading the Azerbaijan Grand Prix and he even stayed ahead of Lewis after his own pit with Sergio to back him up. He and Sergio were showing great teamwork.
Max was in the line for the race win. He was first. This victory was surely his. Then his tyre blew as he was travelling down the main straight. He crashed into the wall at 200mph. The impact was huge. All he cared about was the result. He was out. His lead was gone and it could be Hamilton’s. He needed this win, it couldn’t go to his championship rival. Anger coursed through him. There was a red flag and he clambered out of the cockpit, kicking his tyre in frustration and storming away. The marshals told him to get into the medical car and he had no choice but to do so despite wanting to go to the garage.
After his checks, he finally went to the garage with his head down low, not wanting to look at the staff. He could’ve won. They all looked at him sympathetically. He went to his driver’s room with the frustration still prevalent
A few minutes later there was a knock. Max sighed, not feeling like facing anyone, until he heard a voice.
“Max, it’s me. Y/N. Can I come in?”
Max got up and opened the door, finding Y/N in front of him. She gave him a small smile and entered. He looked at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes wondering what she wanted.
“How do you feel?” She asked “That was a big impact, I wanted to see if you were ok”
“I’m fine. A little sore but mostly fine.” He tried to send her a smile, appreciating the concern.
“Good. I’m sorry about the result, you really deserved that win.”
“Yeah, it was frustrating. I led for so long only to get a puncture. I feel like I let everyone down. I should be on the podium with a stronger lead in the championship but instead I’m here feeling sorry for myself.”
“You didn’t let anyone down” she told him firmly “why would you say that? It’s not your fault that the tyre blew”
“I know but I was so close to the end. The victory was mine and it got messed up. The team work so hard and spend so much time improving the car but it’s still not enough” his voice broke at the end of it and he flushed, embarrassed. He didn’t know why he was telling her all of this but she was a comforting presence and it was all bubbling over.
She surprised herself and him with her next move. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a fierce hug, holding him tightly. She blushed and went to let go, shocked but Max held on. Tears slipped down his cheeks in a rare display of vulnerability and he tried to whip them away without her noticing. He barely knew her and he was crying in front of her. He never cried.
“It’s ok to cry Max, you’re frustrated and upset. Don’t be ashamed” her voice was soothing as she gently rubbed his back. “You’ll be back stronger for the triple header. I’m sure of it. This is just bad luck and it’s out of your control but you’ve got this. Trust me” He did, for someone he didn’t really know he trusted her a lot and so he allowed her to comfort him and allowed his vulnerability to show.
“Who won?” Came his hoarse voice
“Checo” she told him, smiling softly
Max smiled slightly, happy for his teammate despite his own misfortune. The Mexican had supported him as best as he could throughout the race and he was pleased that he’d managed to get his first win for Red Bull.
“And Hamilton?”
“He finished 15th. They restarted the race after your crash and he locked up and went straight . His brakes were smoking like crazy. Sergio had a great start and was able to hold off everyone else. The podium was him, Vettel and Gasly”
“That’s amazing. Thank you for checking on me. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. I can see why my dad likes you Max.”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, interested
“Yeah” she smiled mysteriously, glad to see that he’d cheered up slightly. “I should probably go, dad’s probably wondering where I am. You can always come and find me if you need me though. Actually…” she paused, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen. She scribbled on it and handed it to him. “My number if you ever want to talk.”
“Thanks” he said watching her smile before she left. Max grabbed his phone from his bag, typing in her number and a message, feeling better than when he’d first come here and with that he decided that he’d better go and congratulate Checo and thank him for trying to help.
That was Baku. It was now the French Grand Prix
He’d tried to banish any thought of the previous race weekend from his mind. He knew it wasn’t good to be hung up on the past especially when he was in a tough battle for the title with a seven time world champion.
He’d managed to mostly brush away thoughts about the race itself but the one thing that lingered in his mind was Y/N. He remembered how she’d comforted him, gently reassuring him that he was not to blame and that he’d be back stronger. He remembered how her warm body had felt encased in his arms after she’d impulsively hugged him. He remembered the whiff of floral perfume that he’d smelt as he breathed in, it was light and subtle but he noticed it. He wished that they could have stayed like that forever, a thought that tinged his pale skin red. What was wrong with him?
They’d been texting a lot for the two weeks in between Baku and France and he found himself quietly hoping that something would come of this.
Y/N had been right, he thought, as he stood on the top step of the podium. He’d come back stronger in France, effectively using a two stop pit strategy to gain the tyre advantage over Lewis. On the penultimate lap he got past his championship rival on faster tyres and the victory had been his. He saw her as he stood on the podium. She was in the crowd with Christian and Geri, beaming up at him as if to say “I knew you could do it”. The whole Red Bull team were going crazy but all he saw was her and that’s when he knew he was in trouble. He’d known her for a month now but he felt a connection with her. He was a little ashamed at how easily she’d charmed him but deep down he knew he didn’t care all that much.
Following the usual champagne celebration, he climbed down from the podium and went straight to his team. He accepted their congratulations with a smile and his eyes fell on her.
“Well done Max” she told him with a bright smile. She knew he could do it
He smiled in reply, desperately trying to hide his blush particularly as Christian was looking right at them. “Thank you, Y/N” he said, clearing his throat so that his voice came out normally.
He made an exit and headed back to his hotel briefly before deciding that he felt like doing something this evening. Nothing too taxing as he was tired but just something chilled and fun. He texted Y/N asking if she wanted to join him for a few games of bowling and a meal which she accepted. He smiled at her reply, looking forward to it.
He quickly dressed, nothing too fancy just a casual shirt and some jeans but he made sure that his hair lay smoothly and wasn’t sticking out like it did after a race. He spritzed some cologne and headed for the lobby of the hotel where he had agreed to meet Y/N.
He was unprepared for the beauty that awaited him when she stepped out of the lift. She too was casual in a blouse and jeans but she still looked effortlessly beautiful. Her smile shone brightly as she saw him and approached and Max couldn’t help but smile back. It was infectious.
“Hey” she said grinning
“Hey, shall we go?” He asked
She nodded and they set off to his car as he of course had offered to drive. He loved to drive even in a normal road car and he was planning to try and impress her with his speed. He realised he would be showing off but he couldn’t help it.
She loved it however, laughing as he accelerated through southern France. “Are you trying to impress me Max?” She asked teasingly
He blushed, embarrassed that she’d figured out his plan and tried to think of a reply but he couldn’t so he just laughed brushing it off as best as he could.
They arrived at the bowling alley as they’d decided it was best to do this first. They got the bowling shoes and chose an alley, sorting everything out.
She turned to him “I love bowling. Hope you’re prepared for a challenge Max. I won’t go easy on you” she smirked
“Y/N I’m so good at bowling, you need to watch out. This will be my crown”
“Oh it’s on Verstappen. We will see about that”
Their competitive nature had come out in full force and they were both teasing and trash talking each other, trying to put the other off. They were having a lot of fun along the way of course, laughing and joking when the other missed the pins or didn’t knock down many and then gloating when they got a strike.
It had come down to the wire in their final game before they’d leave and have dinner. They were level on points so everything counted. Max bowled first, knocking down a respectable 7 pins. He then bowled a further two pins, narrowly missing the final pin, which he wasn’t pleased about. He tried again on his final throw but still missed. He heard her giggle, which ordinarily he would like but competitive Max was complaining that he might lose. Now he was focused on distracting Y/N so that he could win. He tried everything but no such luck. She bowled a perfect strike and had already won and her next two bowls also went well. She’d won.
She turned to him grinning “Well what can I say?” She teased “I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you”
He rolled his eyes as the competitive side of him simmered down. “I’ll beat you next time”
“Next time?”
“I have to get my revenge don’t I?” He winked
She laughed “I guess another win for me couldn’t hurt.” She’d enjoyed the evening so far and was looking forward to the meal.
They found a small, cosy looking restaurant and decided to enter sitting in the corner inconspicuously. They spent the rest of the night teasing each other about the bowling but also talking about other things like their childhoods and experiences, becoming even closer.
When they’d finished their meal and closing time was upon them they left thanking the staff for the nice food. In similar fashion to their arrival, Max sped home, enjoying her excitement at the fast pace. He pulled up to the hotel and walked her to her room, feeling sad that their night had to end.
She smiled at him, opening the door. “I had a lot of fun tonight Max. I’d love to do it again if you have some time free. Congratulations on the win again, I knew you’d bounce back after Baku. I believed in you”
He was touched, it meant a lot to hear that she believed in him and had faith in him. “Thank you, I had a great time. Can’t wait for next week in Austria. Text me in the meantime?”
“Of course I will. It’s our track next week, I’m sure you’ll smash it” her eyes were sincere
He flushed shyly “Thanks Y/N. I’d better go anyway. Sleep well” he went to leave but she grabbed his hand to pull him back.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her soft lips warm against his pale skin “Night Max, see you soon”
“Yeah see you” he said slightly in a trance. He waited until she shut the door before he pressed his hand to his cheek that was still tingling. Jesus Max, he chided himself, you’re acting like a lovesick idiot. He probably looked so strange to outsiders, standing with his hand to his red cheeks with a small smile gently tugging at the corners of his lips. He shook his head and headed back to his room, knowing he had to wake up early to return home tomorrow. He couldn’t help but feel slightly sad about that but he cheered himself up knowing that he would see her again in a week and then see her the week after that. He couldn’t wait. The realisation was hitting him more and more every time he saw her. He, Max Verstappen, had a large crush on Y/N Horner. The driver and the boss’ daughter. He hoped it would end better than it sounded.
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maranello · 3 years ago
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2 part question
Part1: I think it’s pretty obvious that Charles is completely devoted to Ferrari but in another universe, what team do you ever imagine him moving too?
Part 2: with Redbull and even McLaren becoming clearly very dominant do you think that Ferrari will be able to compete? I want Charles to win sooooo badly but at the rate Ferrari is going I’m worried he’s blinded by his devotion to them and will forgo winning races and the championship with another team who are more likely to win just to stick with Ferrari. How long will he stick with them and keep losing before he hits a point where he doesn’t want to do it anymore? I don’t want him to be a midfield driver, it would just be such a waste and he deserves so much more.
Part 1: Terrible question to answer, really, for someone just as devoted to Ferrari as Charles is. 
Realistically, any top team would have to consider him. It’s just tricky when they all have their chosen ones in the same generation, and I don’t think any teams have a good time dealing with two No. 1 drivers at the same time, nor do I personally want Charles to be in a situation where he can be at a disadvantage. (I also don’t think he’d enjoy not having that kind of confidence from the team and vice versa either.) 
However, if you’re putting a gun to my head, I would say Mercedes > Red Bull > McLaren. Just based on personal preference. Especially since McLaren is Ferrari’s age-old nemesis - I would hate to see him go there. (And I think the orange is not a good look for him.) Plus I would say out of these teams, Mercedes actually gets on best with Ferrari (Have you seen Toto with Maurizio Arrivabene? Have you seen how Merc admin Tweets about Ferrari? Would you come into my garage with a sledgehammer to help me with a stuck wheel nut? Merc x Ferrari propaganda xo). And also just, I think Charles would get on a lot better with Lewis as a teammate compared to, say, Max in Red Bull perhaps. Lore from 2020 or something I think said Charles would welcome Lewis as a Ferrari teammate if it came down to it. They already have a decent relationship, we saw that consistently since Bahrain 2019, they even play Call of Duty and Euro Truck simulator together in the year of our lord 2021.
Part 2: I’d hesitate to say that McLaren is becoming “dominant” after a few races. I believe that their car is simply very strong overall and very consistent with a good Mercedes engine. I won’t deny that it’s probably a better car than the Ferrari of this year (which, lest we forget, is still largely based on the shitbox of last year). While Red Bull does seem to be doing better than Mercedes in the past few races, I wouldn’t write Mercedes off or put them behind McLaren by any means. More importantly, it’s hard to say what teams will be “dominant” after the new regulations hit in 2022. So there’s that! 
In the long run, I doubt fighting for P3 in Constructors’ or just beating the McLaren drivers’ in the Drivers’ Championship this year really matters to Charles or Ferrari, for that matter. They want race wins and championships. Ferrari is probably aware that they have a great talent and know that if they don’t turn it around soon, they do risk losing him. (And also the masses of tifosi and Italian media who are in love with him.) I think they know that they have been less of a prestigious team in F1/a national pride than they have been a national embarrassment since 2020. So, I have a weird negative-energy faith in Ferrari to do everything they can to give Charles a championship-winning car because, by God, if they can’t do it with Charles, I wouldn’t believe they could do it with someone else. It’s not only just humiliating, but it is also terrible for the brand. If Ferrari’s car doesn’t work out in 2022, then we will see. Charles’ contract with them runs until 2024. 
I think he is aware that career choices are important, but unfortunately, I think it really depends on his internal goals. He said as recent as April 2021 that he already wants to renew his contract with Ferrari. He joked about it in the Ferrari video a week ago during the Styrian Grand Prix. I think he is a stubborn person who will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. If his goal is to win a championship with Ferrari specifically, then I think he would have to be dragged out of there kicking and screaming. Or like, if Ferrari can’t get it together after two regulation changes, then I would think it’s impossible for him to not see that it’s not working out. 
We can’t really tell the future because people change and circumstances change, and this is quite a few years we’re looking at. The 2022 stint will be really important for Ferrari if they want to keep him. I would (hopefully) give it a maximum of two regulation changes, given that his goal to win with Ferrari specifically doesn’t change throughout the next five years. I think earliest, it would be if the 2022 car turns out to be shit and he suffers another year or two of having a bad car, he may decide that his drive to win races and championship is stronger than his wish to win them with Ferrari. 
For now, we should take a page out of his own book and be patient. 💜
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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 4 years ago
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Uuh dunno if you would like this prompt : Anna and Elsa as a mythical creatures.
Would love too see what you will write them as ^^
@like-redhead-probably I sat thinking about this ask for a long time, because while I IMMEDIATELY thought of one for Elsa, Anna’s absolutely eluded me. And I know you were probably looking for a story, but I am unable to stop myself from first EXPLAINING my choices xD
I was already thinking about the myth of the Hulder (or huldra if we’re speaking of the creature in general instead of the specific Norwegian myth) for other story-related reasons, and as I did more research, I felt like the Hulder REALLY shared similarities with Elsa.
Generally speaking the huldra is a Scandinavian myth of a pale skinned, blonde or brown haired, attractive young woman who lives in the wilderness, often luring men away with song or dance to be killed or misled, stuck wandering forever. Sometimes she’s connected strongly to water, and instead of making men lost, she drowns them. Sometimes she is described as similar to an elf or fey-like creature, with characteristics related to other Huldufolk (we’ll get to them later) such as living in a parallel world, or a world Underground, and therefore preferring caves or appearing and disappearing suddenly. Sometimes she is depicted as having a hollow back, or a cow’s tail, which she hides out of embarrassment or to conceal her true identity. Which… how cute is that?
Before the 11th century, the myths were focussed more around the Huldufolk, which literally means “Hidden Folk”. There are lots of stories as to why and how the Huldufolk came to exist, but for the purpose of Elsa I think it most appropriate to look at the Christianization of the myths. Why?:
Frozen and Frozen 2 are modern movies made by an American company and Christianity is nigh untanglable with American culture, they take place in ~1840s Norway, F1 has a dedicated place of Christian congregation depicted in said movie, an official royal crowning overseen by a Christian faith leader, and the adaptation of Frozen generally comes from author Hans Christian Anderson and therefore should take his life and society into account, etc.
The Christianized myth says that one day Eve was washing her children (presumably after Cain, Abel, and Seth) in the river, when she heard God approaching. Ashamed that He would see her kids unclean, she hid the half she wasn’t done bathing, and when God asked, “Where are the other children?” Eve claimed that she had all of them present, indicating the clean ones. This gave God pause, but in the end He said, “Then let all that is Hidden, remain Hidden.” The children that Eve lied about became the Huldufolk, unable to live among humans. These people would eventually become characterized as dwarves, elves, fairies, etc., as time and interpretations rolled on, the huldra being just one of many mythical “species”.
So. Who is Elsa? She’s a:
fictional, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned young woman who led thousands of men wlw to wander helplessly into the dark caves and wildlands of social media with a power ballad and a jaw-dropping transformation sequence
Okay I’m joking… mostly…
In fact my interest in choosing the Hulder for Elsa lies purely outside of any romantic or sexual appeal, especially since Elsa as a character exhibits next to 0 romantic or sexual interest across two whole movies and an additional two shorts. Indeed, there’s a reason people headcanon her as either asexual, aromantic, or both! No, the reasons I chose the Hulder are:
Elsa’s name
Her upbringing
Her duty as queen, and
Her general behavior, specifically in regards to Frozen 1, as Frozen 2 Elsa is, at times, an almost completely different character
Elsa’s name was chosen very specifically by the filmmakers because it means “God is my Oath”. Oaths are binding, heavy, and invoke the maker’s or subject’s actions and personhood in the future. In Elsa’s case specifically, it invokes divine witness: perfect for a queen, someone born to rule. A promise to be fair, to uphold, to protect, to lead, to be a dignified and honorable face for the country. And Elsa was so ready to be that… except for the powers of course. Or at least, when they became something other than a magical gift of wonder and joy. When they became dangerous. Then there comes another oath, spoken to powerful creatures of magic, the Trolls, and born from parental fear: “She can learn to control it.”
Binding, heavy, invoking of Elsa’s future. As she grows, Elsa becomes closed off, quiet, hiding in her own home. She still takes her duties seriously, but now that she has been Other’d, taught to hide herself and her curse, she is just as much shadow as person. To young Anna, Elsa must have been almost ghostlike, disappearing right when Anna thought she’d cornered her, only to reappear sometime later down the hall, out of arm’s reach.
God promised Adam and Eve that their children would inherit the earth, even after leaving the Garden of Eden. Then suddenly that changed, due to Eve’s fear and shame of her unwashed children, and some would now inherit Underground, or somewhere else entirely. The lost children of Eve had become Other’d, needing to hide, disappear, and resort to inhuman tactics just to exist. Maybe they’re jealous, maybe they're just tricksters. But it’s not their fault. And it wasn’t Elsa’s either. Another reason they are similar.
Now, it’s not all doom and gloom for the Hulder, or for Elsa. While the Hulder is generally known for her more chaotic and negative attributes - just like our favorite snow queen, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are a few myths that say burning a charcoal fire -instead of a coal or gas one- is most pleasing to the Hulder, that she’ll even watch over it during the night, and wake the sleepers in case something happens. If a traveler leaves supplies behind with a note or offering for the Hulder, they will travel safely. In fact, some people leave caches for her, as though to cater to specific requests. Coming across the Hulder by chance can have a multitude of outcomes, but if an astute observer spots her cow tail and mentions it, she may become shy and run away. Don’t mention the empty back though, that’s almost certain death.
Basically my point is… trade out the word “traveler” for the name “Anna” and we can draw all the similarities we want. Anna did all of those things, in a way. Anna gave Elsa a little gift of their favorite snowman every Christmas. Anna knocked on Elsa’s door and spoke to her, treated her kindly despite the distance between them, literal and metaphorical. It’s not hard to imagine that Anna left little notes around the castle, hoping Elsa would find them, read them, and know that Anna still loved her, still missed her. And, well, hopefully Anna wasn’t setting any fires and falling asleep next to them - but Anna always kept a light on for Elsa, in her heart. And it flickered and wavered sometimes, but it was a strong fire most days. And we know Elsa was always drawn to it, drawn to Anna because she loved her right back. Loved her first, even. And because it was a warmth that pleased Elsa, she tended it, quietly, carefully, warmly. Like putting a blanket over an Anna that had fallen asleep in the painting room, refusing that slice of chocolate cake so Anna could have two desserts, and listening, for hours and hours, days and days, for the sound of Anna’s glorious bonfire-like soul outside her bedroom door. Even when her secret was revealed, Elsa believed that the best way to protect Anna’s life, her flame, was to distance herself, running to a secret, special place all her own - much like the Hulder might run away back to the Underground.
And this last part’s just me, but I’d like to think that if the Hulder was treated kindly, respected, and given dignity, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone came across her accidentally. That instead of being instantly drowned, or the Hulder becoming sheepish and attempting to run, it would feel recognized. It could be called by name. And instead of feeling the need to hide it’s Otherness, it could be treated as part of it, and cared for just the same. I don’t even need to be subtle here: Anna called Elsa by Name, really saw her, and reframed her darkness into light. Anna hasn’t fought God yet, but she did walk through hell and back for a sister that everyone else saw as a threat, monster, and sorcerer. A category 9 Other. Too bad for them, Anna’s got a Category 10 heart.
Speaking of. We finally got to Anna.
Anna was difficult to pin down because to me, Anna is so very, very human. That’s what makes her special! Yes, yes, you could throw any mythical creature at Anna and the fun part would be trying to make it work within her personality and characterization BUT since the question was Anna AS a mythical creature, that changes the game! The word ‘creature’ itself tends to conjure something distinctly INhuman. So I…. tried, and cheated maybe a little. Because I picked for Anna the Norse Valkyrie.
Most people know what Valkyries are so this one takes significantly less explaining. Valkyries are women that are warriors, shieldmaidens, and the hands of Odin, and they choose who lives and who dies during battle. Their chosen dead ride with them to Valhalla, while those they choose to live are usually granted honors in life. There are the darker sides of Valkyries that paint them as blood hungry maidens waiting on the sidelines before a war, singing the names of who will die with glee… but generally speaking the version of Valkyries that most people know and admire today are accurate! And thank goodness because attempting to depict Anna the other way would probably give me an ulcer.
Anna, much like the Valkyries, is a woman of valor and strength, who is perceptive, guides others, sees into people’s hearts and reveals their goodness. Valkyries are also warriors of prowess themselves, and Anna in Frozen 2 with that ice sword? We all know she was ready to use that for real. She also exemplifies traits that Valkyries both look for and have! Bravery in the face of danger: hello Marshmallow, Elsa’s own blizzard, Hans’ lethal sword strike, LIVING MOUNTAINS, and a damn collapsing.... dam. She also defends those who cannot do it themselves: saying publicly that, “My sister is not a monster… she was scared, she didn’t mean any of this,” even if that cast suspicion or doubt on herself, and the crown, as a whole. Anna knew and believed in Elsa, despite all the years and heartbreak and anger. Despite the impossible magic that literally just happened before her very eyes. Belief in character, despite appearances. And once they were reunited, Anna made every effort to stay by Elsa’s side because she STILL had that faith in her. Anna’s name means “Grace” or “of Grace”, and damn if she didn’t extend that to the person others found most unworthy, even to Elsa herself. Valkyries see what others don’t, and their decisions are final.
[Deep breath] SO! You asked for Anna and Elsa as mythical creatures. You got… a small academic paper, by social media standards xD. I intend to write a little piece about a Valkyrie who encounters the Hulder on the edges of a battlefield and… realizes she never made a choice about this particular woman. And wonders why she can’t ;). BUT I didn’t wanna leave you hanging any longer. Hope you like my choices!
Oh also, nobody asked, but Kristoff is a werebear. No research required
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ajoblotofjunk · 5 years ago
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I was going through my first outline for HFoG and wow that is some wild shit. It was so different! For fun I thought I’d share some of it so you can see where it veered dramatically off course.
The first couple of chapters are the same, the first differences really start in March.
March (Yr 1) - Two weeks later in mid-March is first race - Did you declare the oil?/Of course I did, gods, Jaime, I know what I'm doing. /I saw you studying the regs again.; pit stop argument, etc.; Early pit stop, Jaime thinks they're too slow, is watching the racers pacing him, zooms off a bit too soon and Brienne is FURIOUS with him for putting them in danger, they have a huge fight and it's the first time he backs off a little and apologizes. She says 'if you do it again, I'm done.' I promise I won't. 'There has to be trust, Lannister.' 'Jaime's shorter, you know. You'd save a whole syllable. Could be critical in the pit.' She rolls her eyes. 'Fine. Jaime.'; Brienne in response makes Jaime learn how to stop exactly where he needs to; she stands in front, knowing he'll hit her if she doesn't trust him. I'll be the front jack. He makes a comment and she's like “this is serious, Jaime.” He swallows and nods by her use of his name. “Okay then. Let's practice.” He's still wounded from his team betraying him, he doesn't trust them, but he trusts Brienne. (This is all between the preseason and first race)
(Ed. note:That thing about the syllables shows up in the wedding night sex as my own personal shoutout TO MYSELF because I always loved that line and it never made it into the fic in the end and I’m an enormous dork.)
May (Yr 1) – Bronn places dye in Jaime's gloves so when he shakes hands they're blue (but Jaime laughs, he's the happiest he's been in years, he's driving loose and confident and reckless but he's winning for now); Martyn's payment comes due & almost fucks up Brienne (he's on tire duty, he is slow on the pneumatic during a practice and asks for her help and she comes over and he releases it as she's going for it and it almost breaks her wrist. It's obvious he did it purposefully and the crew swarms him, Bronn goes to get Jaime, who comes back FURIOUS and fires him; Arya joins the crew (Willem cleans up his act)
(Ed. note: I forgot Arya was supposed to join in year one. Hah.)
June has most of what ended up being in July, and July has most of what ended up being in June. Then:
August (Yr 1) – Two weeks in he shows up, middle of a hot, lazy summer; they have a great time; he drives the F1, they grow closer
(Ed. note: No sexytimes at all on Tarth. No sexytimes at all until the second year, which is one of the best changes I made.)
September (Yr 1) – Wins a race, shirt off, spray w/champagne; they kiss first time before crash ('for good luck' he says; realized he felt like he always did at the start of a race day, blood pulsing with the need for action and the roar and vibration of the engine under him); BEFORE he loses his hand, he's about ready to have sex with her on top of the car but he's got his celibacy thing and he's like “after the race”) and then he crashes the next day so their first time takes awhile. (He's glad she didn't know what he was like with two hands, he's worried he couldn't compete with that Jaime.); crash happens at Griffin's Roost end of Sept. (he hit Red before that for talking shit about Brienne; does Vargo Hoat cause the crash (Martyn gave him secret access to the info & the building w/Connington's help - oh snap)); she's watching, he takes the corner too fast and then in the second between watching live and turning to the screen, his car is flipping. She sees his car and her brother's car superimposed on each other, when she'd snuck out to see it at the impound after.
(Ed. note: The original reason they don’t get together in the first year was because Jaime had a celibacy vow during the race season that he kept as sort of a ‘good luck’ thing, which I’m super glad I dropped. Not my finest plot device. 😂)
Oct  (Yr 1)– Brienne convinces Selwyn to start a team and signs Jaime based on Brienne's belief in him; She ends up driving him fast to get that feeling back. But he's a complete disaster, drinks too much and makes a fool of himself, cruel as a defense mechanism, obsessed w/Brienne but doesn't want to bring her down
(Ed. note: This was a period of time where the Arctic Monkeys’ “Do You Wanna Know” was influencing everything I was writing and I wanted him to be very sweaty and wrecked and this is also a thing I’m glad I dropped. Brynn and I actually talked about this a lot - whether Jaime being cruel to her after they’ve started getting together would be a dealbreaker; at one point he was so mean to her she just left for Tarth and that kickstarted him into wanting to get his act together, but a lot changed and so did that, thankfully)
Nov (Yr 1) – Brienne tells him the news after the World Championship when he's super down on himself and that she will be his race engineer and have Bronn as his chief mechanic because she blames herself for not paying attention (which she doesn't reveal until later); and Pod and Arya and most of the crew; she says no December break, you have to work for it. “Why?” he asks. He starts rehab. They start fixing up Selwyn's F1.
(Ed. note: Oh I forgot she surprised him with the news they were starting a racing team for him. Hah. Wow this version was SO DIFFERENT.)
Dec (Yr 1) – She surprises him by bringing in Arthur Dayne to motivate him; they get FIA to agree that he can have a modified steering wheel. Jaime has conversation with Selwyn – you have more money than you  let on. 'I wanted Brienne to have a simple life.' 'Then why did you let her come with me?' 'Because you were the only one who didn't look at her like she was a freak.' Jaime is- OOF.
(Ed. note: I knew I wanted Arthur Dayne to show up, but he was playing a more active mentoring role in this version, and then once I really started getting into Jaime being left hanging alone with the ‘Kingslayer’ stuff, I was pissed at Arthur and realized it wasn’t okay for him to just show up. Heh. Also - that line is actually in the final version of HFoG, so some things do stay!)
Jan (Yr 2) – (they don't have NEARLY as much money as with Lannister Corp – look at this for ideas of how that will play out: https://us.motorsport.com/f1/news/tales-former-f1-chief-mechanic-952404/3045945/)
(Ed. Note: I did end up using a TON of the reading and research that I did throughout the story, even in the final version. Races were especially helpful for me to see the wild things that COULD happen - like Brienne coming in to pit with two flat tires. However, the Evenstar team having a much smaller budget never came in to play as much as I thought when I first started. There were some hints of it - their meager ‘cafe’ in the paddock, only having one wing at the end, not having all the extra parts teams normally would, but that article is actually pretty interesting for other ways the really shoestring budget teams have to cope. The LanCo LST was really helpful for me to get around the reality that having a car that can compete at the top level requires an absurd amount of money.)
Feb (Yr 2) - Oberyn Martell had won instead, his first championship ever, and he had not seemed happy when he took the trophy. Brienne had been touched when he'd dedicated it to Aerys and he'd had the trophy sent to Aerys' family; Rumor hinted they'd melted it down and sent that to Jaime Lannister with a note calling him 'Kingslayer,' but it seemed so medieval and cruel Brienne couldn't believe it.
(Ed. Note: Oh geeze I totally forgot about this subplot! There was a whole thing where the Targaryen’s HAD done that and Jaime held onto the trophy as sort of a self-flagellation and then he ends up throwing it away before he proposes to Brienne. Hah.)
Mar (Yr 2) – how he loses one race: https://www.dw.com/en/f1-sebastian-vettel-loses-his-cool-as-lewis-hamilton-wins-canadian-grand-prix/a-49120669
Apr (Yr 2) – he gets really frustrated and shoves all the tools off the table; “I'm not cleaning that up,” she said and walked out on him.
(Ed. note: Honestly a little sad I never kept this scene in some form. It could have been good.)
Jul (Yr 2) - (He puts the old-school lollipop sign in her hand. You tell me when you're ready.)
(Ed. note: this would have been ~symbolic~ because the lollipop signs were what the pit crew used to use to stop a driver in the pit lane and then released him back on the track, but it would have taken too much to explain and it never felt worth it.)
Aug (Yr 2) – She says he needs the rest; he wants to be with her; they have sex; she admits she's been reluctant she didn't want to curse him and he thought she just wasn't interested though he adored her. He says “you're the best luck I ever had.” They finally get together for good.
(Ed. note: I held onto that “best luck I ever had” line for far, far longer than it deserved. I mean it almost showed up in the actual proposal scene and luck had ceased to be a thematic thing between them.)
Oct (Yr 2) – He shows her the interview from their first week – this moment, and he paused right after her story, when he'd stared at her with what she recognized now as adoration; this, he said, is when I first fell in love with you. (That's how he tells her he loves her.); Bronn gets sick, she has to be Chief Mechanic again, she's terrified about Jaime crashing but she works a couple of races and everything is okay. Bronn comes back.
(Ed. note: So - this was going to be Brienne’s big emotional subplot in addition to the relationship. Her being Chief Mechanic again after she was his mechanic during his crash. That was why I ended up changing everything, because it wasn’t enough.)
Nov (Yr 2) – he wins the World Championship; they get fastest pit time record; they find each other in the crowd, Jaime pushing through the media scrum and other racers and everyone and he sees her tall and blonde and tears in her eyes and they find each other and hug and kiss and he doesn't care.
(Ed. note: He had been the more reticent one which was absurd. So many good changes from this version.)
January (again) - He retires to work with her and Selwyn on Tarth; they start a racing school with a focus on underprivileged and disabled kids, as well as girls; Brienne keeps getting calls to be a mechanic for another team (will she?? No, she loves being home mentoring girls interested in being mechanics)
(Ed. note: The karting school was there from the beginning!! But again I didn’t really understand Brienne in this initial outline, and I’m so glad I spent the time thinking more about her and what she wanted. I think the balance between them really worked to give the story so much more depth.)
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risarufen1984-blog · 6 years ago
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