#teammates to rivals

[laeana]

extract from this video

[andthatsp1]

no thoughts, head empty, just Max spotting Charles driving into parc fermè and giving him a thumbs up

[stripedstarsblueflags]

“friends turned rivals turned teammates turned frenchmen on the podium… together”

CLOSE ENOUGH WELCOME BACK CROFTY DELIVERING THE BROCEDES EULOGY ON LIVE TV

[valyrfia]

charles is fully just holding lando back im laughing

[brittany-and-lewis]

so are all brocedes girlies living vicariously through pierresteban right now or is that just me

[ray935sworld]

He cold he wanna cuddle

[ink-n-shadow]

https://www.tumblr.com/ink-n-shadow/757172339241811968/watching-mens-gymnastics-at-the-olympics-has-me

Go ahead right this for me dog 🫱🏻💵

bestie you don't even have to PAY ME (i'm obsessed with this trope)

gymnast!simon would be an absolute superstar on high bar and rings, the thick bulging muscles of his biceps and upper body proof of just how strong that man would be. like that man would be a world champion, with more gold and silver medals than most of the guys he competes with. but he's humble about it, rarely ever giving more than a few words during interviews and cheeks blooming red when interviewers and commentators alike praise him for his almost inhuman abilities.

teammate!johnny, on the other hand, would be everything but humble. both him and the rest of the gymnastics world knew he was an all-around champion, with multiple medals and awards tucked neatly under his belt. he would be leaner than simon, arm muscles not nearly as girthy but with thick hairy thighs the size of literal tree trunks to show just how much power was packed into his smaller body. johnny would love the spotlight (as any good team leader would), eagerly boasting about the strength of his team and just how easy it would be for them to win gold at that the upcoming olympics.

but both johnny and simon knew that they would be nothing if it weren't for you. you were at every practice, every meet, every team meeting—just like every other athletic trainer employed by their coaches, but you were just different.

they enjoyed the way you gently tended to their sore muscles and bruises, fingertips soft against their calloused skin as you wrapped their much bigger muscles in tape and gauze. they loved having conversations with you, listening to your ramblings about current standings, other opponents, or how well they were doing in upgrading their skills. it was never just ego-boosting with you—you would actually critique their work, giving them tips on how best to avoid injuring themselves and how to protect their bodies for longevity's sake.

it would be a competition between them of who could impress you more, with johnny trying desperately to learn the most intricate vault imagineable in hopes that you would tell him how amazing he was that night. simon, on the other hand, liked showing off his strength and endurance, noticing the way you seemed to never be able to take your eyes off of him when he would swing around the high bar or hang from the rings.

(and maybe they enjoyed watching you squeeze your thighs together every time you got too close to them, with rosy cheeks and glossy eyes peeking up at them like you were imagining them breaking you in half.)

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[charles-leclerc-official]

The heartfelt tragedy of this being the final season of the Haasbands.

Enemies to ride or die teammates.

Best teammate lore on the current grid

[pitconfirm]

some things never change: friendship edition 🫶

[skitskatdacat63]

Is this a proposal?

Transcript:

FA: Tell Lance not to worry, eh, I just want to build a gap for the cars behind in case of rain or anything

E: Yeah, copy, understood.

FA: Copy, for Lance, zero risk.

[witchywitchy19]

These two cant seem to separate from each other.

[haneentifosa005]

What is it in the mexican air that made him reach these levels of babygirl

[stripedstarsblueflags]

lots of tension after the sprint today so in case you missed it here's lando gently brushing the back of his hand on oscar's chest and also both of them having taken off the glove of the hand specifically to hold (lando took the right off on his way over)

[alwayschoppedtaco]

hate is a strong word, don’t you think ll m.v.

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

warnings: some angst? not super angsty, mentions of a crash on the track-no one is hurt- (mercedes v red bull), mentions of alcohol and partying, google translate dutch and french (in this, you can speak french) it’s mostly just fluff

summary: you’ve never gotten along with max, but that can all change after an action filled day leads to some late night conversation

word count: 1.0k

my masterlist

“What a fucking idiot!” the crackle of the team radio comes right after you hit the barriers, informing the team that you are both okay and angry. “He knows that he should have left space, what a sore loser!”

The anger doesn’t subside on your walk back to the Mercedes garage after you brush off the marshals who direct you to the medical area, instead it is left to bubble up in your stomach, thoughts of the podium and just how close you were to it acting as a catalyst for your rage.

Your anger doesn’t pass as you watch the blundering idiot who caused your little crash cross the finish line with enough of a lead that his five second penalty does absolutely nothing. Instead, it is left once again to fester inside you as you go through the motions of post-race media duties, trying to patiently answer all of the clearly baited questions in a professional way.

It doesn’t dissipate as you change out of your sweaty race suit, slipping into a clean pair of pants and a shirt that is branded with the Mercedes logo. It only slightly lessens as you look at your teammate and his second place trophy, deciding to be happy for him and the team.

That’s the reason you don’t say no to Lewis when he invites you to an after party with the team to celebrate the first podium of the season and all the hard work put into this weekend.

You’re already three drinks in by the time Max strolls in, Daniel and Checo coming in with him. You have to physically restrain the urge to roll your eyes as you watch the Red Bull drivers walk in, downing your drink and motioning for another.

Max makes eye contact with you as you get your drink, a smirk making its way onto his lips. Your eyes narrow at him, turning your back to him as anger floods in again.

It takes everything in you not to walk over and do something you would regret, instead moving away from the bar and over to where your team is situated. Lewis motions for you to sit next to him at the table, some of the team members making way for you to sit there.

You only reason you got up from the booth where you were sat was to grab another drink. Excusing yourself, you make your way towards the bar.

“I will have an-” your interrupted before you can finish your sentence.

“daar is ze!” Max stumbles over to you, his drunken Dutch words not making sense to you. “Ik was je aan het zoeken!” there you are! I have been looking for you!

You scoff at his words, automatically assuming he was poking fun at you in his native tongue.

“Max, just leave me alone.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, heading back over to the Mercedes table. Max is left alone at the bar, watching your retreating figure.

The rest of the night passes you by in a blur. Flashing lights and the deep reverb of the bass, along with the multitude of drinks, prompting you to pull Lewis onto the dance floor. Your hips sway to the music, letting your thoughts of the podium and incident leave your head, instead focusing on whatever terrible remix of Lady Gaga is playing.

You feel his eyes burning into you as you sway to the music, locking eyes with him. His blue eyes stare into your own, not breaking eye contact as he makes his way over to you.

“Y/N!” Max starts, yelling over the loud music. “ik wilde zeggen dat het me spijt” I wanted to say I’m sorry

“Max!” You are more open to conversation with him now that you have significantly more alcohol in your system. “I can’t understand Dutch!”

 The laugh that leaves your mouth has Max hooked. The both of you drunkenly stumble out of the club in hopes of having a real conversation, the loud music still audible outside.

“I said that I am sorry, Y/N!” Max is still shouting, causing you to giggle louder and place your finger on his lips with an overexaggerated “shhh”

“No need to shout, Maximilian.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Its close enough.” Your drunken giggles continue as you talk, forcing the mumbled words out through your laughs. “Why did you not leave any room?”

“I didn’t mean to ruin your race, Y/N.” The way he says your name has you sobering up a bit, and the intense way he looks at you has you forgetting why you were ever mad at him.

“Oh mon dieu, pourquoi as-tu besoin d'avoir de si beaux yeux?” Its your turn to say something he doesn’t understand, the French going completely over his head. Oh god, why do you have to have such pretty eyes?

“What was that?”

“I said that you have really nice eyes that need to stop looking at me like that!” He is speechless after you admit it, letting a tense silence blanket the two of you.

He slowly reaches out towards you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You have really nice eyes too.” The admission from him paired with his hands on your face have you forgetting everything about the race, the only thing on your mind being the man in front of you.

“Max.” His name rolls off your tongue, a silent dare for him to do something.

He takes the dare, his other hand coming to cup your neck as he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He finally connects your lips together, the taste of gin lingering on his mouth. Your thoughts are drowned out by Max, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck pulling him closer as you continue to kiss, cliché butterflies erupting in your stomach.

You only pull away when you need air, moving away from Max but still keeping eye contact.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.” The words catch you by surprise, never knowing Max felt like that.

“I always thought you didn’t like me.”

“Never.”

~

[wttcsms]

inside of my bf lives two wolves

[smittyscurls]

The girlies are gossiping 💁‍♀️