#david morgan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

therandomhalfrussian · 7 days ago

Text

Ronnie Petersons Chronicles #7

Ronnie Peterson together with Graham Hill at the 1972 Race of Champions (Brands Hatch).

Guess who is back! Everything went well for me even though it was stressful but I am very excited to post this. Either this chronicle is longer than the others or I am just tired. It took way more time to translate than the other ones. Might be because Ronnie writes like any person born in 1944 would and uses a lot of Swedish phrases/words that hardly can be translated without sounding really weird. But I have tried my best!

I like that picture a lot. A young Ronnie sitting next to the experienced Mr. Monaco himself! I wonder what they talked about, or honestly if they talked at all! It mostly looks like they are receiving information. Do note the sideburns and somewhat matching hair, even if Ronnies hair is a bit messier.

Do excuse any grammatical errors, English is not my first language. “(italics)” is my explanation of things.

“Things are getting hard for Peterson now”

(Early April, London, England)

“I’ve driven two races since you last heard of me. The first one was a Formula 2-race at the short but fast Mallory Park-track in England, the second race was the Race of Champions at Brands Hatch outside of London.

You already know how it went at Mallory Park, even if I do not want to call that runoff a ‘crash’ like some newspapers are very excited to do. At Mallory we had problems with the car from the start. There are new rules for Formula 2 this year, you can now use 2-liter engines now. This far into the season it is really sparse with 2-liter engines, it is practically no one who has managed to finish developing them from the 1600-cc motors.

The 2-liter engine I got for Mallory Park soon got tired. It protested against being so full of holes. And that you would probably have to have some understanding for, a few of the metal walls are hardly thicker than a half rotten autumn leaf!

The reserve motor had to make do

So I had to continue practising with a reserve motor and that also went well since nobody else has a real 2-liter engine either. The fastest practice time and the best starting position was the result of Saturday's practice.

The race was in two sessions. None was particularly successful for me. In the first one the fuelhose came loose, so there I stood in the middle of the track and tried putting it on again while David Morgan, who won the race, Carlos Reutemann, Niki Lauda, Mike Hailwood and the others flew past.

When I managed to get driving again I drove really fast, as the lap record showed , but that joy did not last long. The fuel pump collapsed. Very much an end to that session for Peterson. The mechanics managed to get the car ready for the second session and I had to start last since I retired on the first. So I just had to hang on and overtake as many as possible before the field spread out too much.

I got three laps. Just as I was supposed to drive myself up to ninth I got into a mudpile a Formula Ford-car had thrown up when rejoining the track at an earlier session.

…and then the back wheels lost their grip

The backwheels lost their grip in the mud and I went off the track and smashed the nose of the car and broke some struts in the front. So it was just for the mechanics to roll the car into the bus and start working with it.

I went home to my new rowhouse outside of London. It is the first time during this wandering life that me and Babro have acquired a place to live in, of course excluding our parental homes. It is actually really nice to have a solid place somewhere when you move around like I do.

The house is in a nice suburb near the airport (possibly Heathrow, but I might be wrong) so that I can easily leave for races. Tim Schenken lives a few houses away from me and that is very nice. We can go over to each other and talk from time to time.

But I did not get to spend a lot of time home last week. My new Formula 1-car took most of the time. During the Tuesday we had a press-viewing in London and I had never driven the car.

New cars are nerve-wracking

The car rolled for the first time at Silverstone during Thursday. It was a little bit nerve-wracking testing it for the first time after all the work we have done on it during last autumn. There was not a lot of driving. In the beginning of a test you have to do so many small adjustments of all the bolts that have something to do with the wheel alignment, check the hose coupling in the kotor etc, so there is not a lot of time over for a proper drive.

But the car felt right and I was pretty happy with it. The guys from Teknikens Värld was there when we tested the car for the first time so you guys will have to read more about in their article (which I unfortunately have not found). I have promised them to not steal their story. Journalists are so sensitive about that.

So then it was time for the Race of Champions at Brands Hatch. We did not go there with the new car to win, rather to practice. Well, of course I always try to win, you always do, but there was hardly anyone in the team that thought of victory.

I did not get to practice much

During practice we had quite a lot of adjustments to make so I did not get to drive a lot. Got 12’th position on the starting grid and that is not exactly good. The race itself was neither exciting nor fun.

Emerson Fittipaldi drove ahead of everyone already at the start, and then he held his position until the finish line. The guy is simply a good driver. Real good. I have a feeling that he will be one of the guys at the top when it is time to count the world championship-points.

I got to stay lonely and drive at the back. Got to twelfth place after a while. But I am not all that disappointed. We got a lot of useful experience from the car that will be useful for the Spanish Grand Prix.

The F2-car is fast

The Monday after the Race of Champions, which was the 19’th, I went to the Thruxtontrack to teat the F2-car which had been fixed since Mallory Park. It went really good and I managed to break my personal record with a whole second and that is a lot on that track!

And now it is time to go to Sebring in the USA to drive the sports cars-world championship. Then I am going to do a small detour in the middle of the week to drive a Formula 1-race in the middle of the week with my old car in Brazil. And on Good Friday I will drive Formula 2 at Oulton Park.

It will be a hard time for Peterson until you hear from me again. “

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You can find the original chronicle (in Swedish) here.

It is very impressive how many races Ronnie manages to drive! He sounds quite tired to be honest, at least with the testing and practices.

Yes Ronnie, Emerson will be at the top of the world championship, the absolute top to be exact! Emerson would later be described as Ronnies best friend in Formula 1, I wonder if they already were friends? They at least knew each other at this time.

Thank you for reading, if you notice anything wrong or have anything I can improve on please tell me!

#ronnie petersons chronicles #ronnie peterson #graham hill #david morgan #carlos reutemann #niki lauda #mike hailwood #barbro peterson #tim schenken #emerson fittipaldi #classic f1 #f1 #teknikens värld

20 notes · View notes

chithereader · 7 months ago

Text

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder.

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face.

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through.

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought.

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right?

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh.

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day.

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why.

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?”

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something.

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing.

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty.

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.”

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch.

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you.

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely.

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse.

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate.

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file.

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss.

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth.

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short.

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud.

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile.

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground.

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?”

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing.

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand.

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.”

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.”

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob.

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud.

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia.

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face.

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!”

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you.

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting.

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience.

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?”

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?”

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.”

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.”

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.”

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really?

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.”

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?”

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?”

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.”

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous?

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish.

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–”

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now.

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you.

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt–

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice,

“You don’t think you’re my girl?”

4K notes · View notes