#f1 stuff

[elmustio]

Today’s podio was something like:

GURL OMG THIS RACE 🙇🏻😼🧎🏾‍➡️ Absolutely Top S+ in my race tier list.

[sydwritess]

Mad max

Max verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: You were at home enjoying the peace and quiet before Max got home. When Max eventually came home, he was angrier than ever, accusing you of cheating on him from a photo someone had shown him.

Second Person pov

Warning: Swearing, Max being a bitch

Today was a long day for you. Max was at the circuit, working before the races start. While you were walking around Monaco with your cousin.

"Ugh, I can't believe you made us walk. It's blazing out here." He said, fanning himself with his hand.

"That's what I like about Monaco. Everything is close." You say.

"Do you remember what we used to do as kids, walking down the street?" He asked randomly.

"Oh my God yes!" You say excitedly. He grabbed your hand and we skipped down the sidewalk like we used to. Bobbing our heads around, skipping everywhere.

"Oh my god. That is tiering." He said, letting go of your hand.

"You can't do much of anything before getting tired." You say, laughing at him.

"Okay girl, I see how it is." He said pretending to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

We made it back to you apartment complex in a quick matter of time.

"Wow, this is fancy! I see how you are Miss. Girl." He said, looking all around the lobby before getting into the elevator.

All you could do is laugh at him. You hit the 16th floor button, the elevator closes slowly and you make your way up to your floor.

The elevator dings, signaling that you've reached your floor. We both get out of the elevator, and silently make your way down the hall to your apartment, unlocking the door and stepping in to the cooled down room.

"This feels so nice." Your cousin said, plopping down on the couch.

"I forgot you have never seen this place." You say, walking into the kitchen.

You open the refrigerator door. "Do you want anything to drink?" You ask.

"Water. Please." He answered. You grab two waters and go back into the living room, sitting down next to him.

"Are you coming back to visit?" You ask.

"Yes. Well I have a lot to catch up on when I fly back home, but I will plan our next trip." He say with a smile.

"You definitely should." You say.

We both sat on the couch, watching the sun slowly start to set beyond the ocean.

"Alright. I better get going." He says, standing up from the couch.

"It was great seeing you again." You say, standing up and giving him a hug.

"I know, it was great seeing you. I will come back later tonight before I leave. I will also bring Gabriel with me." He says.

"That sounds great. Thank you, again." You say, walking to the door with him. We both say our goodbyes and he walks out.

After he leaves, you decide to go into the kitchen and start dinner. You were chopping vegetables, and prepared some chicken for the main plate.

Once you had everything prepared, you walk back into the living room and sit on the couch, flipping through the TV channels to find something good to watch.

"Jesus. There's like nothing to watch." You mutter to yourself.

You shut the TV off, and get up off of the couch, walking to the balcony that was connected to the living room.

You gently push the sliding glass door open, walk outside and sit in one of the chairs that was out there, taking in what was left of the sunset.

You were looking down at where the ocean and sky meet, taking everything in when you hear your phone ring.

'Had such a fun time today. Gabriel and I will come over tonight before we leave.' Your cousin texts.

'Awesome. I'm glad you had fun, can't wait.' You type back, putting your phone down.

You were about to lean your head back, looking back out when you heard rustling around in the kitchen. You quickly snap your head around, looking into the apartment to see Max.

"Hey. Didn't know you'd be back this early." You said, walking into the kitchen.

"So did I." Max said, looking in the fridge for something.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Yup. Just... a long day."

You thought nothing of it as he has had many stressful days before, so you walk into the living room, sitting down on the couch again.

Soon after, Max had walked into the living room. You moved your feet off of the cushion next to you so he could sit next to you, but he didn't. He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room, taking a sip of his drink as he was sitting down.

You look at him confused. "Are you all set for the race tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He says, looking down at the ground, then back up at you.

"I don't think you should come tomorrow." He says.

"What? Why?"

"You just... don't need to be there." He says bluntly. You were taken back at the statement.

"I- what is wrong with you? Did you have a shitty day or something?" You ask.

He looks at me and shrugs. "Did you have a shitty day?" He repeats.

"No."

"Really. What did you do?"

"I... hung out with my cousin."

"Really. Where?"

"The mall." You say slowly. He nods, but not a nod of approval. He get's up from the chair he was in and walks into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"What the hell?" You whisper.

Suddenly he comes back out, in new clothes, looking like he was going out.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up for me." He said, walking to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I'm just asking." You whispered.

"And I'm asking why it fucking matters to you!" He snaps, looking at you. You stand up, looking straight at him.

"What is wrong with you? If I did something, just tell me! Don't yell at me." You say, raising your voice. He shakes his head, letting go of the door handle.

"You thought you could fucking cheat on me and lie about it!" He yells.

"What -" You try to say, all of a sudden, he shoves his phone in your face, showing you a picture of you and a guy holding hands on the street. That guy being your cousin.

"He-"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? How could you fucking do this?"

"I didn't do anything!" You yell back.

"Of course you didn't! Because your here for you!"

"What the hell does that even mean?" You say, tears filling your eyes, your voice getting shakey.

"I should have fucking known since the day I met you. I thought you were the one for me but you fucking threw it around! You threw us away!" He yells, stepping closer to you. You backed up, getting closer to the living room wall.

"I didn't do anything. That's my-"

"Yeah your fucking boyfriend! What, I wasn't there enough for so you had to go out with someone new!"

"No I didn't-"

"Yes you did! I have the fucking proof right here! Don't fucking lie to me!" He said, moving closer and closer to you. Your now fully against the wall. Trapped.

"Will you just let me-"

"I can't believe you! How could you fucking do this to me!" He says, slamming a hand against the wall, near your head.

Your breath was caught in your throat, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Hey guys." A voice said form the front door. You turn to see your cousin there. You suddenly let out a breath that you held within you.

"Schat-" He tries to say, your went to your cousin's side.

"I just came to say goodbye. Everything okay?" Your cousin asks.

"What, he comes to your rescue now?" Max says, pointing to your cousin.

"Babe, is everything okay?" A voice outside the hall was heard. Just then Gabriel said, walking in the doorway.

"Babe?" Max questions.

"He's my boyfriend." Your cousin says.

"Anyway. We have to leave. Are you okay?" Your cousin asks, turning to you.

"I'm okay. Just uh- get home safe." You whisper. He nods, hugging you.

"Did he hurt you?" He whispers.

"No."

"Good. Please call me. I'll let you figure this out." He says, pulling away form the hug.

"I will. Just have a good flight." You say. He nods before walking out with Gabriel, shutting the door behind him.

"Y/n-" Max starts.

You put a hand up "No. Just... no." You say, walking into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door. You slid down against the door, hugging your knee's as you cry into them silently.

Your thoughts rushing, one after another. Not being able to process what just happened.

You sit in your room for hours. Not debating on going back out there. On hearing a shitty apology. On all of it. You slowly make your way to your bed, curling up in it and crying to yourself. Thinking of everything.

You couldn't fall asleep. Your body wouldn't let you. You turn over to get your phone off of the nightstand. Looking at it as it says 10:30 p.m.

You have a feeling that Max might have left. So you slowly get up, and go out of your room, walking down the hallway.

When you reach the main room, you see Max sitting in a chair in the living room, not TV on, no phone. Just starring at the wall. You quietly walk into the kitchen, avoiding his attention to grab something to eat.

You look in the cabinet's, grabbing your snack. You turn around to see Max standing there behind you, distanced. Your breath hitched. Your mind filling with fear.

"I just want to talk." He says gently, taking a step towards you. You step back. The incident from before appearing in your head.

He see's your movement, and steps back again.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said, putting his hand in the air. Your still silent.

"I just... I'm sorry. Really sorry."

You shake your head, not giving in yet.

"I should have let you talk. Or I shouldn't have made the assumption." He said. Tears began to brim your eyes.

"You almost hit me." You say, voice weak.

"I know. I know, but I didn't mean to... hit the wall." He said slowly.

"But you almost hit me."

"I'm sorry." He says. You shake your head again. 'I also should have realized he's your cousin, seeing how you two look alike. You were right. I did have a bad day and, after seeing that. I just, got even more pissed." He says.

"Yeah." You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I- I can leave if you want." He says quietly. You go silent again.

"You should've at least asked."

"I know. You know me, I don't fly of the hook like that."

"Yeah."

"Can we please work this out?" He asks. The room went silent again. You look at him slowly, seeing the sorrow behind his eyes.

"Yeah... I guess." You say, walking over to him. He immediately wraps his arms around you. Hugging you tightly.

"Don't hurt me." You say quietly, tears falling over your cheeks.

"I would never. I'm so sorry." He says.

"Promise?"

"Promise." He says, kissing the top of your head. You burry your head into his shoulder, the tears flowing like a river.

"I'm really sorry. I truly am." He says quietly.

"I know." You whisper. Staying like that for what felt like forever.

Hey loves! Hope you like this one! A bit different from what I write but where's the fun if you don't write different things? Comment to be added to the tag list!

[andreine03]

Because it's Max Verstappen's Birthday, here is a little appreciation post for him memes and all other I found on Pinterest

[trashytracktales]

omgg freaky oscar YESSS!!! let’s talk about it, what do you have for us???????

Oh, boy. I do have (very organized) 💭 thoughts 💭 for this, so please proceed with caution.

𝗧’𝘀 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘆 𝗢𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝗔𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗮

18+ content ahead.

𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻-𝗼𝗻𝘀

I feel like we briefly talked about some of these in the past, so if I’m repeating myself, just go with it 🤞🏻

✦ Quiet confidence (cause he’s a quiet guy). He loves when you’re lowkey needy but trying to hide it.

✦ Eye contact. Holding his gaze will have this man THINKING.

✦ Subtle dominance. Telling him how you like it or placing a hand casually on his thigh in a public setting. Feral Oscar: activated.

✦ Small acts of trust. Asking him to help you with something simple and/or letting him guide you feeds his male ego. Personally, I think this is the quickest way to make him hard.

𝗜𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗱

✦ Initially, he’s completely molded to you, touching you wherever you want him and letting you set the rhythm.

✦ He studies and takes notes, and once he figures out what drives you insane *bumpy ride starts playing*

✦ Very slow, grinding thrusts that turn into merciless, relentless pace once you start begging (he will get you to that point).

𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

✦ Missionary with wrists pinned. Because he needs to see your face when you fall apart & loves being able to kiss you while he ruins you. Isn’t he so sweet omg.

✦ Seated on his lap, facing him. Especially if you’re shy about it, because he likes to test his own patience before he loses it and starts bouncing you on his cock himself.

✦ Bent over anything (his favorite show fr). A counter, a desk, the side of the bed. He loves the view and loves pulling you flush against him after every thrust.

✦ Spooning. When he wants to go slow and deep and hear every little noise you make + the feel of your entire body convulsing with pleasure against his?? Goner.

𝗘𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗲

✦ Loves sensory overload.

✦ Shower sex obsessed, because he likes the intimacy of it.

✦ Gets off on overstimulation (and once he gets you there, he doesn’t stop).

✦ Silent (more like breathy) dirty talk. That’s it.

𝗨𝗻𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀

✦ Praise AND degradation cocktail. Soft you’re doing so good for me mixed with smug such a fucking mess just for my cock.

✦ Powerplay flips. Letting you think you have control, just so he can flip the script and leave you breathless. Also, don’t know why, but I feel like THIS is his signature in a way.

✦ Marking (he’s subtle with it though).

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲

✦ At the end of the day, Oscar is a softie.

✦ He turns into a human blanket, pulls you into him, and soothes you with soft kisses and lazy strokes over your spine.

✦ Asks if you’re okay like three times in a row, refusing to let you move until he knows you’re good.

✦ Makes a mental note of everything you liked before falling asleep (because next time he plans on doubling down).

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 4

4th — cockwarming, Max Verstappen

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Prompt: You are an actress and have been in a relationship with Max for a while. You have been trying to learn all your lines in the upcoming movie, and since this time of the year is off-time, which means no racing for a few weeks for Max, he volunteered to help you remember your lines and practice it with you. 

You and Max sat on the couch together in their comfortable living room. Max had a script in his hand, and the other one was in yours. "Okay, ready to start?" Max asked, a slight smile on his face. You nodded, a look of determination on your face. "Ready as I'll ever be," you replied. Max chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll help you remember your lines. You've got this."

Sometimes you would stumble over a word or phrase, but Max was there to help you through it. He would gently correct or repeat the line if you forgot it completely. "Schatz, there’s another fun way to rehearse all these lines, and you can even memorise it faster. Take a break and meet me in the office.” 

Max's proposal piqued your interest and curiosity. You couldn't help but wonder what new method he had in mind to help you remember your lines more effectively.

With a nod, you got up from the couch and headed towards the office. You found Max already there, waiting for you.

He waves you over to where he’s sitting on his desk chair, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You look at him, confused for a moment, before doing as he wordlessly asked. 

“What are we doing? I thought you would help me with the script.” you half laugh, half ask curiously.

You can feel Max fumble his hands behind you, his cold watch brushing against the warm skin of your tailbone that’s exposed from your dress.

“I’m helping you to study it better with some motivation.” He whispered to your ears. 

You hear his zipper come undone, and that’s when you realize what he’s wanting. Max adjusts you on his lap so you’re hovering, and he aligns his length with your clothed entrance, teasing your clit through your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side with his fingers, allowing his tip to brush against your wetness. You slowly push yourself onto him, and Max guides himself into you at a snail’s pace. You aren’t quite wet enough yet, so he takes his time. Once he’s wholly sheathed inside your warmth, Max grabs your hips so you can’t move.

“I want you to just sit here and be a good girl while learning, alright?”

“That’s kind of hard with you inside me, Maxie .”

“You can do it, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You aren’t sure what you’d do if you had to act normal while Max’s thick, now-throbbing length is being squeezed by your walls. 

He grunts softly as you shift a little, and he kisses your neck, nipping and sucking on your skin. Max's trying to distract himself by reading the script. "Act 1, Scene 1... Oh, god, you're getting wetter, aren't you?" 

​​He starts moving his hips slowly, pushing himself in and out of you, his thick length stretching you open with each movement. He keeps his hand on your hip, holding you in place as he sets a slow, steady pace. "Focus, baby... Focus on the script..."

Max thrusts into you, disguising it as a minor shifting in his chair, and you have to clear your throat to stifle a moan, “Uh … Oh, a chapel. Do…Do you think dad will be able to cross the threshold,” you try to read the line outloud. 

“You are doing great, Schatzi. Can you go on.”

“Of course,” you nod your head, rubbing your palm along Max’s thigh out of sight. 

Max's breath hitches slightly at your touch, but he keeps his face neutral, continuing with the script. "That’s a good question…" He punctuates each phrase with a measured thrust, maintaining the facade of simply coaching you through the scene. His voice grows huskier.

You begin to feel restless on Max’s cock, wishing for nothing more than to fuck him senseless. You want to end your learning session, spin around, and bounce on him for hours. But of course, until he gives the word, you can’t move. Max's intense gaze bores into you as he slowly trails a finger along your jawline. 

“Please,” you whimper, “Let me move.” “Then move.”

With his permission, Max's hands move to your backside, gripping firmly as he helps guide your movements. His hips thrust up to meet yours, the two of you finding a rhythm together. The sound of your labored breaths and wet, slapping bodies fills the room, the script is long forgotten on the desk.

Taglist: @formula1-motogpfan @iamafootballfanmiasanmia @arian-directioner @annimausi @mythicalmaven @lucycowr @hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119 @mythicalmaven

[chillycherry44]

f1 drivers as silly pinterest cats (pt. 2)

the part 2 that absolutely no one asked for lol

inspired by this post i made

includes: yuki, lewis, alex, logan, zhou, pierre, oscar, & daniel

link to my navigation & requests/asks are open <3

yuki

lewis

alex

logan

zhou

pierre

oscar

daniel

[l0veyourselfirst]

me cheering for lando leading the championship and me cheering for oscar leading the championship, god forbid I support two drivers from the same team…

[reidiot]

all i'm saying is, if lando had come up behind oscar with even a sniff of better pace, mcl would've swapped them immediately. i'm talking no hesitation.

oscar's average lap time towards the end of the race was 1:31.4.

lando's in clear air was 1:31.3.

a tenth, that's it. and yet, oscar gets parked behind like it's 2024 all over again.

it's just interesting to me, you know. i love lando, but can we at least stop pretending this “equal treatment” thing is anything but optics at this point? i think i've seen this film before...

anyway. happy birthday oscar, i guess.

[kariliah]

Nobody:

Absolutely no one:

Oscar: 👍

[elmustio]

"First meet"

First comic? YEAH 🤓

I promise to improve in digital art, Im more a tradicional artist, so... srry if sometimes the colors look weird...

[sydwritess]

The Silence Behind The Camera

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: You had just got hired for F1 as a photographer. You were excited to say the least, but when it came time to create your work, You found it awkward, and as a struggle. That is until someone certain encourages you.

Second Person POV

You had recently got hired in the F1 workforce for photography. You were surprised you had made it through the interview, being shy was a big factor in your life.

You weren't always great about speaking up for yourself, but you thought that this job would bring out your true colors, making friends, getting to know people. All of it.

Right now, you and a group of photographers were at the Canadian circuit entrance, a herd of cameras around the gateway, also making a sliver of a path for anyone who had to get through.

You were standing off to the side, near the pathway, leaning against the gate.

You were looking at the camera setting when all of a sudden, the group of photographers started cheering and screaming.

You instantly snap your head up to see George Russell walking towards you.

You were going to capture some pictures, but it felt... odd.

You felt weird taking pictures of someone without their permission. You understood that's what your job was about.

But you never realized how awkward it felt. You lowered your camera back down. The strap tugging on the back of your neck.

George was walking through the thin path, waving at all of the camera people.

When he had gotten closer to you, he stopped slightly, looking at you like you belonged in a museum.

He held your gaze, looking at you deeply, opening his mouth like he was going to say something, but his guard tapped him on the shoulder, telling him to keep walking.

By now, all of the photographers had scattered around, going off to find new moments to capture.

You were still standing at the gate, feeling defeated at your job already.

"Hi y/n, glad to see you here already." A voice said behind you. You slowly turn around to see your boss, Toto, standing there.

"Hi." You say quietly.

"How's it been for you so far?" He said. He nodded his head back, signaling that you should walk eith him. So you did.

"It's... alright. I haven't got much, though." You say, walking through the aisle of garages together.

"Well that's alright then. It takes a while to get used to it." He said, patting you on the back lightly.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to relax in here? You can wait until media is gone." He said, turning towards the Mercedes garage.

You both stood slightly outside, Toto was talking to some engineers while you looked through your camera roll again. Seeing everything but Formula 1 content.

"Where's Kimi and George?" Toto asks an engineer. The engineer shrugs and walks away.

"Jesus Christ." Toto mutters.

"There uh... over there." You saying, pointing to the media tent.

"Thank you." He raises his arms. "At least someone knows what's going on." He says, smiling before walking to the tent.

"No, I don't." You mutter under your breath. You look back in the garage, looking through all of the commotion when you see a man walk up to you.

"Hi, I'm Valtteri Bottas, your y/n right?" He asks, stretching out his hand for you to shake.

"Yeah, nice to meet you." You say, shaking his hand.

"Your our new photographer correct?" He asks.

"Yeah, I am."

"How's it going so far? Capture anything good?"

"No. Actually I haven't gotten a chance to. It's kind of... awkward." You say.

"I understand that. Do you like it here so far?" He asks.

"Yeah, it's nice. The people are welcoming."

"Yeah-"

"Valtteri. How are you mate?" A voice behind us asks. We both turn to see George walking up to us.

"Good, you ready for tomorrow? Got the new car prepared." Valtteri said.

"Yeah, looking forward to it."

"George, this is y/n. Y/n this is George." Valtteri says.

"Oh yeah, your our new photographer, yeah?" George said.

"That would be me." You say with a smile. Valtteri silently walked away, leaving the two of you standing there.

"Yeah, I uh.. saw you at the gate's this morning. Quite the crowd there." He said.

"Yeah. I really didn't expect it." You say quietly.

"You know, out of everybody there, you were the only one not taking pictures." He said. You looked hesitantly at him.

"Yeah. I was ready but I guess... it felt to awkward." You say.

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. I've never taken a picture of someone without asking for their permission first." You say, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Well you have my full permission from now on. People do it all the time, it's just about getting in there, taking your shot." He says. You nod.

"Um, Kimi is going to do an interview in a minute. Would you like to get some shots there?" He asked, pointing behind him.

"Yeah... sure, I can." You say quietly.

"Great." He said. He led you through the large crowd of people in the garage, walking back through the main area of the paddock.

"Here, just in here." He said, opening the door to a small room. You walk in slowly after him to see Kimi starting his interview. You and George sat on the floor to the side, watching the interview.

George suddenly leaned over close to you "You should get a picture." He whispered

"No... nobody else is." You say quietly. He suddenly took your camera from off your lap and got three pictures, with surprisingly good quality.

"Here. You should try. Way better then me." He smirked, hanging the camera back to you.

You playfully roll your eyes and smile, taking a couple of pictures, adjusting the lighting and IOS as needed.

"See. There you go. Let's see." He said. You turn the camera to him, shuffling through the pictures of Kimi.

"Those are really good... wow."

"Thanks." You say softly.

"Do you want to shoot more?" He asked.

"Sure." You nod. Both of you stand, quietly exiting the room and going out the the track again, this time leaning on a balcony.

"See that?" George says, pointing to a car on the track.

"Yeah."

"Wait until it starts going 'round, probably take a picture, along there." He said, pointing to a curve to the left.

"You telling me how to do my job now?" You say, smirking up at him.

"No. It's called George's wonderful advice." He says, smiling, putting a hand on his chest.

So after the car out on the track started moving, going at a fast pace. You held up your camera, following the car with your lens. It soon got to the turn George was talking about, so you started snapping picture after picture until it stopped, coming up to the pit lane.

You quickly started going through the pictures, George leaned into your shoulder, looking with you.

"Your really good." He said.

"Thank you." You say. A moment of silence appeared between the two of you Both looking out at the track, fan's cheering on, getting signatures from different drivers, media still going.

"You want to get more pictures?" He asks.

"Of what?" You ask. He stands there silently, looking out at the track.

"Follow me." He smirks. You and him walk away, through the paddock again.

He leads through crowds of people, mostly being fans. When you get near the garages, he leads you up a staircase that connected to a small hallway, eventually bringing you out on to a balcony.

You stand at the rails, watching the sun go down and the people still wandering around.

You slowly bring your camera up, taking pictures of the sun mixed with the people, creating the perfect contrast of colors and different shades.

"What- do you mind if I see that?" George asks.

"Sure." You say.

You hand him the camera and he zooms in very far on a certain driver, not knowing who. George laughs.

"Ahh Jesus Christ, I'm going to blackmail him with this one." he laughs. He turns the camera to me to show Lando making a disgusted face behind his bosses back.

"Oh my God. Who is that?" You laugh.

"That my friend is the one and only Lando Norris. Who, if you capture at the right time, certainly loves these pics." He said.

"Come on." He nodded, you follow him quickly down the stairs and both of you go out to Lando, who is standing, texting someone.

"Mate! Look what I got." George said, shoving the camera in Lando's face.

"Where did you get that!" Lando said, trying to reach for it, but George held it up in the air.

"Doesn't matter. Just watch yourself, these might find it's way to Pinterest, yeah?"

"I- oh hey, who are you?" Lando says, turning to you and smirking.

"Y/n." You say.

"Well, are you new?"

"Yeah?"

"Hm. Cool. You should let me take you out for dinner some time." He says, nonchalantly.

"Uh- I'm good."

"Really?"

"Really. I can... tell who you are."

"What?"

"You look like the type to party a lot. Go out, get wasted, hook up with everyone in the room. I'm okay." You say.

"Uh- what are you telling her?" He says, looking at George.

"Nothing. Maybe you should die down on that rep though. She doesn't even know you and she told you off." George laughed.

"Right, calm down Max." Lando smirked, walking away.

"What the actual hell?" You question.

"You got everything right about him and you've known him for five seconds." George said.

"Guess I'm just good a predicting." You say.

"George!" A voice yells.

"Ugh, turn your backs, maybe we won't here him." George teases, you look back to see Toto calling him.

"George!"

"Georgie!" Toto yells teasingly.

"Georgie?" You question. George rolls his eyes and the two of you walk over to Toto.

"Mate, did you not here me?" He asked George.

"We did."

"You like that nickname?" Toto smirks.

"No, but I prefer the name Georgie. It reminds me of the 'It' movie where I'm getting summoned into hell by a clown." He says, matching Toto's attitude.

You couldn't help but snort out a laugh. Toto looks at you.

"i- I think it's pretty cute. I mean, gotta have some fun at work right?" You ask.

"She get's it." George said, pointing to you. Toto nodded, and went to go get paper's from somewhere in the garage.

You look at the time on your phone and notice it's getting later.

"I have to go, will I see you tomorrow?" You ask.

"Yeah. Hey, do you want me to walk you out?" He asks.

"Sure." You say, he grabs his phone of the desk and turns towards you.

"George-" Toto says.

"I'll be back, we'll discuss strategies later." George says, walking out of the garage with you. You couldn't help but bring yourself to laugh.

"Christ, strategy after strategy, it's like I'm back in math's again." George says sarcastically. You laughed more.

"Is it really that hard?" You ask.

"Oh my, you have no idea." He smiles. You continue walking towards the gate exit when Kimi stopped George.

"Mate, are you good at math's?" kimi asked.

"I'm alright, yeah."

"Perfect, tomorrow, my teacher gave me an exam. I really need your help with it. Like all the number and stuff." He said.

"Sure, I can help." George said, Kimi patted him on the back before going into the paddock.

"Never mind, change my answer. I'm now in math's class." He said.

"Might as well be in school." He mumbled. You laughed again.

You continued walking out into the parking lot, eventually stopping at your car.

"Wait, this is yours?" He asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Wow, this is nice." He said, gently putting his hand on the hood of the car. A BMW

"Yeah, I bought it a few years ago. Brand new 2023 model." You say, putting your camera and purse in the car.

"That's amazing." He says softly. There was a quiet pause between the two of you.

"Uh- thanks for today. i really appreciate the help." You say, opening the drivers side door.

"It's no problem, really." He says, smiling.

"i do have one question though, very... related to work." He says.

"Shoot."

"Do you want to go out? Like not- like to talk about work things, like..." He trailed off.

"Like a date?" You ask.

"No... not a date, just work... maybe a date." He said slyly.

"I'd love to." You say.

"Great." He smiles.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You say.

"See you tomorrow." He says, turning around to walk away, but he stops a couple of steps ahead.

"Wait- why did you turn down Lando and not me?" He asked, walking back to you.

"I've known Lando Norris for years, not face to face but I know what he's like. You... you don't seem like that."

"Oh so your a liar." He smirks. You giggle at him.

"Look, I get going out for a drink once and a while, but... sorry but sometimes he's on a whole different level."

"I get that." He pauses. "Are we still on?"

"Of course. Unless you make me think otherwise."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then." He says.

"See you tomorrow." You say.

Hey loves! This has been sitting in my drafts forever! Finally getting it out there. Comment to be added to the tag list for F1, also requests are open!

[andreine03]

it's his bday so here are KMag memes and pics I found

[trashytracktales]

https://x.com/GeorgeRussell63/status/1911469090788585568?t=OlpLzTnHSg4ZRWKhAG7ANA&s=19 WHY is he always naked 😭

He saw George whoring himself out on live television and needed to put an end to that nonsense immediately. Pulled on those long ass socks for a cowboy confrontation and went, “the grid ain’t big enough for two exhibitionists, partner” pew pew

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Summer Serendipity

Summary: It was the summer break between the races, and Oscar suddenly came across a travel magazine about a quiet town in Northern Ireland on the work desk of someone who had left it open when he was visiting McLaren’s HQ in Woking. Next thing, he was on his way to Belfast, with nothing much on his mind, no worries about the championship standings, the braking mode, the corners or chicanes,... Nothing, just him and his summer getaway in Belfast.

Meanwhile, Edith Ezra, a devoted single mother working at a quaint cafe in Belfast, cherishes her two children, Ivy and Eddie, above all else. Having faced the heartbreak of their father's abandonment, Edith has built a life centred around providing for her family and creating a sense of stability for her children.

When Oscar's path crosses with Edith's in Belfast, their worlds collide in unexpected ways. As Oscar finds himself drawn to the warmth and genuine kindness of Edith and her children, he begins to see a different side of life beyond the fast-paced world of racing.

Author's note: here it is!!! The very first chapter in my first Oscar's fic. Hope you guys will like it, and please send me any message whether you like it or not, and if you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know too! Happy reading.

Oscar couldn’t handle the pressure any more. His stress levels were at their peak, and if he made it to the end of the season without telling Zak, Andrea or Mark what he thought of everything inside his mind, it would be a miracle. 

He felt like his life was spinning out of control, and he just didn’t know which way to turn. What was next for Oscar Jack Piastri? He couldn’t even tell or have any clue. He was number two on the championship standings, but what’s next for him? To always be second best to Lando, never number one? He felt like no one could even understand him these days, not even himself. His confidence was knocked. His motivation seemed to be at an all-time low. Despite that, he still did well every weekend. But was it the car or his talent?

So here he was. The Belgian Grand Prix had been yet another victory for the team with a double podiums for McLaren, first place for Lando and third place for him. As the national anthem played, Oscar’s eyes drifted to Lando. His teammate, his friend, his rival. Lando had it all: the charm, the confidence, the adoration of the fans. He was the golden boy of McLaren, and Oscar? He was the talented number two driver, the understudy, the one destined to be "almost." Second in the championship standings, second in the eyes of the team, second in the hearts of the fans. No matter how hard he pushed himself, no matter how flawlessly he executed his laps, it was never enough. He was never enough.

Later that evening, the McLaren motorhome was alive with celebration. The team’s double podium was a reason to rejoice, and the energy was infectious. Mechanics clinked glasses, engineers laughed over inside jokes, and Zak Brown, the team principal, made a toast that brought cheers and applause from all corners of the room. But Oscar wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. He nursed a glass of sparkling champagne, avoiding eye contact with his teammates as he lingered on the fringes of the crowd. Every laugh, every pat on the back felt like a reminder of the expectations he carried on his shoulders.

“Oscar, mate, cheer up!” Lando’s voice cut through the noise as he approached, a mischievous grin on his face. “Third place is still a win in my book.”

Oscar forced a smile. “Yeah, sure. Just tired, that’s all.”

But Lando wasn’t buying it. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for weeks now. What’s going on?”

Oscar hesitated, the words forming in his throat but refusing to come out. How could he explain the storm raging inside him? The self-doubt, the pressure, the feeling of being trapped in a world that demanded perfection at every turn? Instead, he shrugged, muttering something about needing sleep before slipping away from the party. To be honest, Oscar was glad for the summer break. Four weeks of not having to see anyone. Four weeks to get himself together. He’d originally been supposed to be flying home the day after the race, but Zak decided that they should visit McLaren’s HQ in Woking to celebrate with everyone there. While he appreciated the camaraderie and support of his team, the idea of facing his colleagues and superiors in his current state of mind filled him with anxiety. 

As Oscar sat on the plane, his thoughts swirling with doubts and uncertainties, he couldn't help but wonder about the path ahead. Would he always be destined to play second fiddle to Lando, forever chasing the elusive dream of becoming number one? Or was there a deeper truth to be uncovered about his own capabilities and potential? As the plane touched down in England, Oscar braced himself for the upcoming visit to McLaren's HQ. Everyone here in the factory was nothing but nice towards them. It was like a homecoming for the heroes, because McLaren hadn’t been first in both the WCC and WDC in like forever. So he and Lando gave a speech to send out their gratitude to the employees. They even got the chance to go and visit each department in the factory. It was during a tour of the engineering department that Oscar’s eyes landed on a travel magazine sitting on someone’s desk. The cover featured a breathtaking photograph of a quiet coastal town in Northern Ireland, its rugged cliffs and emerald-green fields bathed in golden sunlight. The headline read: “Escape to Tranquillity: Discover the Hidden Gems of Northern Ireland.” For a moment, the noise around him faded, replaced by the gentle pull of the image. He imagined himself standing on those cliffs, the wind in his hair, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders. The thought was intoxicating, a glimmer of hope in the midst of his turmoil. He didn’t know why, but something about that town called to him, promising a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years.

And so, as the next morning came, the boarding call went out for his flight. This was it. Oscar Jack Piastri was about to disappear. To Belfast off he went. 

The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of Edith’s small but cozy kitchen, casting dappled light across the table where a half-empty mug of tea sat cooling. Edith Ezra leaned against the counter, her arms folded tightly across her chest, and let out a long breath. The house was finally quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional chirp of birds outside. Ivy and Eddie had been picked up by her neighbour, Mrs. Doyle, who had kindly offered to take the twins to the park for an hour. Edith didn’t take moments like this for granted; five minutes of peace were rare in her world, and she cherished every one of them.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where sunlight poured in, illuminating the worn wooden floor beneath her feet. It was another beautiful day, the kind that made the world seem a little brighter, a little softer. Belfast was unpredictable when it came to weather, but days like today were perfect, not too warm, just enough sun to coax people out of their homes and into her café. Business had been steady lately, which was a blessing. The café wasn’t much, just a small shop tucked into a quiet corner of the city, but it was hers. After years of working two jobs, saving every spare penny, and scraping together the courage to take the leap, Edith had finally made her dream a reality. She glanced at the clock on the wall. One hour until opening. Angie, her part-time employee, would be arriving soon to help set up. Angie was a godsend, not just for her hard work but for her kindness. She always seemed to know when Edith needed an extra hand or a listening ear. And sometimes, on particularly chaotic days, she even helped keep an eye on the twins.

The kids, Ivy and Eddie, were Edith’s four, nearly five-year-old twins. They looked nothing like her. They were blonde, and she was red. They were an exact copy of their father in almost every way, well, except for their eyes, as they were blue, like Edith’s.  Everytime Edith looked at them, she was reminded by the twins’ father, or as she always call him the A-class asshole. Because he had decided that his time was too precious to spend being a daddy at such a young age, and had run away after hearing that Edith was pregnant. At first, she had been devastated. Dropping out of university, moving back in with her parents, and learning how to be a mother to not one but two babies had been overwhelming. But the moment she heard their tiny heartbeats on the ultrasound, something shifted in her. She had found a strength she never knew she had, and by the time Ivy and Eddie were born, she was determined to give them the best life she could. It hadn’t been easy. There were sleepless nights, endless shifts at thankless jobs, and moments when she wasn’t sure how she would make ends meet. But there were also moments of pure joy; first steps, first words, laughter that filled the house and made everything worthwhile. Slowly but surely, with the help of her parents and a few close friends, Edith had built a life for herself and her children.

Still, there were days when the past weighed heavily on her. Days when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and barely recognised the woman staring back. Her once-confident smile had faded, replaced by a look of quiet determination. She had put her dreams, her ambitions, even her sense of self on hold to be the mother her children needed. And while she didn’t regret a single moment of it, there were times when she wondered if she would ever feel like herself again.

Dating wasn’t something she even considered anymore. It wasn’t just that she didn’t have the time, though that was certainly part of it; it was that she didn’t see the point. Her ex had shattered her confidence, leaving her with lingering doubts about her worth. And besides, she had Ivy and Eddie. They were all she needed.

The sound of the front door opening pulled her from her thoughts. Angie stepped inside, a bright smile on her face and flowers in her hand. 

“Morning, Edith,” she said cheerfully. “I stopped by the flower shop on my way here. Thought we could use these for the display case.”

Edith smiled, grateful as always for Angie’s thoughtfulness. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I’ll take a vase to go with them.”

As the two women set to work preparing the café for the day, Edith felt a sense of calm settle over her. The familiar routine of brewing coffee, arranging pastries, and wiping down tables was comforting, grounding. Here, in this small space she had created, she felt in control.

But even as she busied herself with the tasks at hand, a nagging thought lingered in the back of her mind. Was this it? Was this all her life would ever be? She loved her children, loved her café, but a tiny part of her longed for something more. 

She shook her head, brushing the thought away. There was no time for daydreams. The café was opening soon, and customers would be arriving shortly.

Meanwhile, across the Irish Sea, Oscar Piastri sat on a plane bound for Belfast, his mind racing with doubts and questions about the path he had chosen.

Instagram Post: @/Edithlovesedit

Liked by @/Angiethebougie, @/Luckyluke and 88 people.

@/Edithlovesedit: Hi! It's Edith's account here, and Edith loves to edit everything 🤗

view all comments

@/Angiethebougie: girl, come back here we have a coffee shop to open

-> @/Edithlovesedit: aye aye, captain! brb just gotta go and kiss my babies first.

@/Luckyluke: Oh to have the red hair like yours 😭

-> @/Edithlovesedit: yours is prettier than mine 🫶🏻

-> @/Luckyluke: Shut up im running to ur place for that croissant now, better save me one

-> @/Edithlovesedit: tick tick tick the clock is clocking Luke 🤭

Oscar tugged the brim of his cap lower over his eyes as he stepped off the plane and into the crisp, late-morning air of Belfast. He traveled light, just a backpack slung over one shoulder and a small suitcase in tow. No entourage. No cameras. No team members trailing behind him. For once, he was just another traveler, one more face in the blur of arrivals. And that, strangely, felt like a relief.

Outside the airport, the rhythm of the city was slower, quieter. The cobblestone streets weren’t made for wheeled suitcases, and his bumped along awkwardly as he walked, the small wheels catching in every uneven gap. He paused for a moment, scanning the narrow street ahead of him.

It was nothing like the world he had just left behind. There were no roaring engines, no flashing media lights, no towering hospitality suites or sponsor banners. Just brick buildings with ivy-covered walls, flower pots swaying from lampposts, and the distant sound of laughter spilling from a nearby pub. For a brief second, Oscar wondered if this whole trip had been a mistake. The silence felt almost too loud. But then he reminded himself why he was here: to escape, to breathe, and maybe, finally, to figure out who he was beyond the track.

He hadn’t come with much of a plan, just a quiet rental flat above a local bookshop, a small space near the city centre with no luxury, no distractions, and a view of a street lined with cafés and flower stalls. It was, in every sense, the opposite of his usual world.

His first morning in Belfast was slow and meandering. He woke late, then wandered aimlessly through cobbled alleys, past colourful shopfronts and street musicians playing soft melodies on corners. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, and for now, he liked it that way. With his cap pulled low and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, he moved unnoticed, unbothered. For once, he wasn’t Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 driver. He was just…Oscar.

Then, as he turned a quiet corner, it caught his eye, a small café tucked between two taller buildings. The sign above the door read The Bean & Blossom, painted in elegant cursive with a steaming cup of coffee beside it. It stood out, but not in a flashy way. It was the kind of place that felt like a secret you were lucky to find. Oscar’s stomach gave a quiet protest, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since leaving Woking. He stepped toward the door, hesitating only a second before pulling it open and letting the warmth of The Bean & Blossom pull him in.

The café had an old brick exterior softened by vines climbing up the walls and copper light fixtures that would glow warmly after sunset. The bell over the door chimed a little too enthusiastically every time someone walked in or out, but no one seemed to mind, it was part of the charm.

Inside, the space was cozy and calm. The walls were painted a soft sage green, decorated with mismatched picture frames, some holding vintage travel posters, others filled with candid snapshots of regulars and community events. A bookshelf near the counter offered well-loved novels for customers to borrow or trade, and tiny succulents in colorful pots lined the windowsills.

The place had a subtle vintage feel, like it had existed forever without trying too hard. The wooden floorboards creaked gently underfoot. No two chairs matched, yet the mismatched furniture somehow blended together into something warm and lived-in. In the corner sat a reading nook with two velvet armchairs and a small round table, always topped with a jar of homemade cookies and the latest issues of local magazines.

The aroma inside was enough to make Oscar pause, a comforting mix of fresh espresso, warm bread, and something sweet, like vanilla or cinnamon. Behind the counter, a chalkboard menu displayed the day’s specials, each one accompanied by tiny doodles: stars, mugs, little smiley faces. The display case was a wonder of its own: rows of pastries lined neatly, each one practically glowing under the soft lights. Scones, tarts, and thick slices of lemon drizzle cake sat beside the famous cinnamon swirls, which, as a note scrawled in chalk said, were "always the first to go (sorry not sorry!)".

Oscar stepped further inside, letting the door swing closed behind him with a soft jingle. For a brief moment, he just stood there, taking it all in: the hum of conversation, the soft hiss of the coffee machine, the occasional clink of cutlery against ceramic. It felt like stepping into someone else’s life, the kind where things moved slower and mornings could stretch on forever without urgency.

The café wasn’t crowded, just a few people scattered around. A man in a fisherman’s sweater sat by the window with a newspaper folded in half, a mother with a toddler tried to coax bites of muffin between animated chatter, and a girl in a beret sketched something in a notebook near the back. No one looked up. No one noticed him.

Oscar exhaled quietly and approached the counter.

Behind it stood a woman, mid-twenties, maybe younger, with a messy bun perched high on her head and flour dusted lightly across the sleeve of her cardigan. She was scribbling something onto the chalkboard, pausing every few seconds to add a doodle beside one of the specials. Her face was half-hidden behind a curtain of red curls, but her focus was laser-sharp, tongue caught slightly between her teeth in concentration.

Oscar cleared his throat gently. “Hey.”

The woman turned, blinking in surprise before offering a warm, genuine smile that reached her eyes. “Morning! Sorry, I was in the zone.” She tossed the chalk aside and wiped her hands on her apron. “What can I get you?”

He scanned the chalkboard for a second, then gave a small shrug. “Honestly? I have no idea. Something good. Something that might make up for a seven a.m. flight and a very questionable airport sandwich.”

She grinned, already reaching for a mug. “Rough morning, huh? You’ve come to the right place. I prescribe coffee and sugar. Trust me, I’m basically a professional.”

Oscar let out a soft laugh. “I’ll take whatever your prescription is.”

She moved with ease behind the counter, every step familiar, like a quiet rhythm she knew by heart. As she worked, she spoke over her shoulder, “I’m Edith, by the way. And you?”

There was a moment’s pause before Oscar answered. “Oscar.”

No surname. No recognition flickered across her face, and he didn’t offer more. Just Oscar.

“Well, Oscar,” she said, setting a latte down in front of him with a swirl of foam shaped into something that looked vaguely like a tulip. “Welcome to The Bean & Blossom. Your cinnamon swirl is warming up now, I figured you’d want the full first-time experience.”

Oscar looked down at the drink, then back at Edith, that same small smile still tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was the first time in days he’d felt like someone was speaking to him, not at him.

He nodded, quiet but grateful. “Thanks. This place... It’s nice.”

Edith leaned slightly on the counter, brushing flour off her fingertips. “It’s a bit of a mess sometimes, but yeah. I like to think it’s got a good heart.”

Oscar took a sip of his drink. The coffee was smooth, rich, a little sweet, exactly what he hadn’t known he needed.

He glanced around again, already sensing that he might be back here tomorrow. Maybe the day after that, too.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, he didn’t feel like he was running from something.He felt like he was running toward something.

Taglist: @teamnovalak

[velena-trevelyan]

like, of course.

Those maligners deserve worse than the last ditch of hell's eighth circle.

[papayapr1ncess]

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But the fact that it’s actually low-key accurate?!