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#FINALLY A PORSCHE TEAM
nyaawn · 3 months
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I never thought I would live to see Sephiroth shilling udon, not to mention shilling udon in big fox tail and ears, with official approval from Square Enix no less
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"Cloud, I want to ask something of you..... would you like to eat donbei udon?"
I'm dying
(watch the one-winged udon seller in full glory)
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starkwlkr · 3 months
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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance
part 1 part 3
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Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK
“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.
“Hey, Lando!”
“Lando! How’s it going?”
“Norris, hey!”
Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.
“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”
“There’s a big chance I might be here.”
Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”
As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.
“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.
“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.
“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.
“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.
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The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.
“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.
“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.
“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.
“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”
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It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.
“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.
Charlie Hunnam, actor.
Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?
“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.
“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.
“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.
After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”
Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.
“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.
“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
Oh.
“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.
“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.
“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.
Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”
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“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”
Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.
“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.
Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.
“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.
“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”
“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.
“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”
“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.
“I love all my grid sons equally.”
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lucauali · 1 year
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princess treatment - michael kaiser
warning: suggestive but not fully nsfw, kissing, sensual touching, groping, kinda bratty attitude but mostly in a playful way, reader wears a dress and heels
this is very loosely inspired by that one tik tok trend about having a princess attitude and it made me think of him <3
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205k likes, 30k comments, and 1.7mil views in less than three hours. 
When Michael posted the tik tok featuring you as his one and only, you knew it would probably garner some attention, but not this much. Not only was it a hard launch for your relationship, it also showed bits of pieces of what it was like to be Michael Kaiser’s partner:
-
It was late into the night and all you could think about was satisfying your midnight cravings. 
You got out of bed and slipped on some shorts and a random shirt that you found in Michael’s closet. The plan was to silently leave the apartment and go grab the food you craved before Michael could notice your absence. Said plan, however, fell through as soon as you grabbed the door knob of the bedroom. 
“Mein Liebchen, where are you going?” Michael’s groggy voice interrupted you. The German sat up as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He pat the empty space next to him and urged you to go back to him. 
You felt bad for waking him up, especially when he looked so sweet and precious in his tired state, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep, I’m gonna run out at get a snack. I’ll be back soon.” 
You tried to leave again, but you heard the sheets shuffling on the bed. Michael was walking towards you with his eyes barely open. 
“I’ll drive you. Wanna stay with you.” He tried reaching for you hand and finally found it after a few attempts due to the lack of light in the room. You tried to reassure him that you could manage by yourself and he needed to rest, but he insisted on going with you. 
This led to you being in the passenger seat of Michael’s Porsche as he drove to the closest McDonald’s. His hand was caressing your bare thigh as you both hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio. 
Only Michael would take you to McDonald’s to satiate your spicy nugget craving in the middle of the night. 
-
After another successful victory for Bastard Munchen, Michael wanted to take you out to a fancy dinner. 
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the after party? I don’t want to take away you away from your team and ruin the post-game excitement.” Michael simply huffed at the inquiry as he adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his button down dress shirt. 
“Yes, I’m sure. They’re probably just going to the club. After all, they don’t have an angel of a partner waiting for them at home like I do.” Michael winked at you and laughed as you rolled your eyes at his last statement. 
You walked over to the assortment of clothes you had as options for tonight, “okay fine, but don’t complain when you get bombarded with texts and calls from Ness and the others begging for you to join them.” 
Michael completely ignored your statement and stood flush to your back, examining your options. 
“Wear the red dress. The one with the slit.” His hands lay on your hips and slowly rubbed up and down your sides. 
“Since you’re begging for me to wear it, I guess I have to.” You let out an exaggerate, but amused sigh as you felt Michael smile against the back of your neck. You slipped into the sleek dress with a pair of heels and applied makeup as quickly as possible. All the while, Michael wouldn’t let you go. Even as you were applying your favorite lip combo, he insisted you do so while sitting on his lap. His tattooed hand grazed tour thigh that was exposed by the slit. 
“On second thought, let’s just stay here.” The sheer audacity to say that as you were getting ready made you side eye the blond through the mirror of your vanity. 
Michael giggled as you simply ignored his suggestion, “I’m kidding, Meine Prinzessin, don’t worry. As much as I would like to keep you here for my eyes only, I want to show you off as much as I can.” He kissed the nape of your neck. You knew that his club manager’s request to keep your relationship a secret was starting to get to him. He had done well to keep it low key for the past year and seven months. 
You turned around so you could see him and  grasped at his pouty cheeks. It was a sight that you hoped only you would ever behold. Placing a gentle kiss on his pouted lips, you leaned your forehead against his. Michael closed his eyes and just basked in your presence and warmth. After a few minutes, he suddenly lifted you up bridal style and made his way to the front door. You giggled as he carried you all the way to the Porsche. 
You’re the only person in the world that Michael would choose to celebrate with in such an intimate way. 
-
Even as you scrolled through all the comments from the video, the buzzing didn’t cease. Thus, your beloved woke up from his midday nap, it’s for his much needed beauty sleep, he claims. Michael lifted his head from your stomach with his eyes closed, as he tends to do. His arms that surround your middle section squeezed just a tad tighter as he groaned and grumbled.
“What are you looking at? Put that down and nap with me.” You ignored his demand and simply turned your phone towards him. It took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes before he started to absorb what was in front of him. The smug grin on his face was expected due to the comments you saw that praised him as ‘god-tier’ boyfriend material. As fast as his smile appeared, it vanished.
Michael abruptly sat up with a mortified look on his face, “excuse me?! Did you see this? User ‘iluvkais3r’ said that you should leave me!” You actually didn’t see that comment, but it still made you let out a full belly laugh. Michael scoffed and pushed his face back into your stomach while grumbling incoherent words. Your hand found its place in his hair and you scratch his scalp. After a few minutes, you felt his breathing pattern even back out. Putting your phone down, you chose to join him in his state of slumber.
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leclucklerc · 8 months
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Hard Carry CL16 - 01. It's 2018, Baby!
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Pairings: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader
Summary: It's the big year of 2018 and y/n is looking forward to win her fourth championship title. A pretty boy with green eyes won't distract her damnit!
Word Count: 4.5k
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2012
When Formula One fans talked about paid driver, they said that the position can go either two ways.
The first one, is being proven unworthy for the seat. With the highly competitive nature that the sport serves, it will only took one race, one qualifying, only one bad day, to show the world that you don't have enough experience or talent to deserve a seat in Formula One. That the reason why you're one of the top drivers in the pinnacle of motorsport is because daddy's got money.
Unfortunately - to the fans, or even to the said paid driver themselves - this scenario is often the case.
It is such a bad branding for rookie to have. To be branded as a spoiled and talentless kid that doesn't know how to do anything without the help of their famously wealthy parents. For someone that ha just entered the sport, for someone that is still searching for fans and sponsors, this kind of branding can be the death of their career.
Yet, why is there so many paid driver when the risk is evident?
The second scenario, is the most unlikely one. Though, it is still possible.
There is a probability that a paid driver can enter the sport, and show the world that they're as talented as y/n l/n, just like what she did back in 2012 when she famously entered Formula One because her dad bought the Porsche Formula One team.
It was such a controversy back then, for such a young driver - a female driver, something that the sport had never seen in decades - to easily enter the pinnacle of motorsport with the large monetary support from her dad. Back then, when it was not revealed yet that her dad had bought the team, many had anticipated her debut. When the news came out, many had muttered things like-
"Maybe she's just that talented?"
"She did won a lot of trophies in the lower category."
"Who cares? It's a sign that Formula One is finally evolving!"
"Bet she got a lot of skills."
And well, y/n does have skills. People had actually anticipated her arrival at first, saying that it’s time for Formula One to change and she will be the one to start the change.
Though back in 2012, that was not the reason why she managed to get into Formula One. Her dad, a famous billionaire from France, had bought the Porsche Formula One team and gave one of the seat for his daughter.
Cue, the many controversy.
Now, when she looked back, y/n really have to admit that the online and offline attack that she had received back then was simply atrocious. News outlets and magazines would print photos of her without her knowing, calling her a spoiled princess who is throwing tantrum and making Formula One a joke to the eyes of everyone.
Sport critics would make a whole segment with previous or current Formula One stars to talked about her. Many calling her undeserving, talentless, and many many sexist slurs that she doesn't even want to remember anymore.
While, okay, being a paid driver, it’s obvious that controversy will always follow. Thought, back then, she had thought, if she was a man, would the controversy became this big?
Paid drivers, after all, is known secret to everyone who watches the sport. Formula One is an expensive sport to start with, so it's no wonder that many people from a privileged background would start using Formula One as a chance for them to have a career outside of their wealthy family.
And don't get her started with drivers who has connections with retired Formula one Drivers!
At least half of the grid is the son or a friend or a family friend of a retired driver. If you want to talk about the sport with the most nepotism, y/n thinks that Formula One is up there.
Though, her controversy got blown up this big just because she has one thing that separates her from the rest.
She's a girl.
A girl who has no space in the world of motorsport.
Someone who doesn’t have balls hanging between her legs and somehow, it made people think that she’s less than them.
Honestly? Fuck them. 
She knows the world of Motorsport. She knows, if her dad didn’t bought the team, there is no way her dream to become a Formula One driver will come true. No matter how much they preach about equality, women in sport, or even feminism, there is no way any of these teams will even look at her.
How can she get into the sport when no one will give her a chance? When everyone in this goddamn sport will always think that the world of Motorsport is only for men and she has no place Ini it? It’s only fair for her to use her advantage so that she somehow can have an equal ground with everyone else here.
During the start of the 2012 season, y/n is already in a bad mood from the start. 
She fucked her qualifying. So fucking badly. She honestly thinks it's because of the added pressure from the press as well as the pre-race jitters that she had, almost throwing up in the garage due to how fucking nervous she is. All of those added, and yes, the result is a really bad qualifying.
P10 honestly is a really bad position when you have a car like Porsche. After all, her other teammate, Antonio Bacque, managed to snag P3 during the qualifying.
It's an embarrassing result and she really hates it. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that y/n was going to be eaten by the media with that kind of result. 
Her first interview ever since the announcement of her position was with some famous sport channel. Y/n knows them, considering the've been blasting a lot of her controversies and 'questionable' behaviors for their viewer to watch.
So she should've expected the question that they had prepared just for her.
"What do you think about your path towards Formula One?" asked the woman, blonde hair and seems to be older than her for a couple of years. "Do you think that you still deserve the seat without the help of your father?"
She had froze, eyes flicking towards he PR manager who also got her eyes widened. It seems, the interviewer had asked her a question that was not previously approved by her team. Illegal? She doesn't know. Nor she cares.
After all, she's really fucking exhausted at this point.
There are too many glances and cameras towards her way. Too many layered questions and fake  empathy from those around her. Too many, judgmental look from those who doesn't even know her personally.
Y/n is tired.
"Yes," she said, staring straight back at the camera. "Yes I deserve it."
"How so?" pressed the reporter once again. Fully knowing that she's a paid driver. Fully knowing that she had just fucked her qualifying up. Fully knowing, that she haven't shown the world her skills.
Yet.
The female stared at the camera, she's aware that her next answer will be the headline of every major sports channels the next day. That this answer can be the one to make or break her career. A brand, that will stuck to her until her retirement.
Should she play the part of a spoiled child? Or should she play the part of a hothead driver with a too big ambition? She could play with the male fantasy and become a docile and demure little girl with too much naiveté in this cruel cruel world of motorsport. To become the doll for this sport to play with without care in this world.
But she's better than that.
She's y/n l/n and knows she's worth more than those fake personas and branding. She knows that she deserves her seat and she will be damned if she didn't prove it to the world.
"Like this," 
And, she gave them the middle finger.
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In the end, all of those criticism changed during the Australian Grand Prix.
It's stuffy and unbearably hot inside the car. Her race suit didn't help much. If she's in any other situation, she would've complained to everyone that's willing to listen.
Though, at this moment, she found herself to not care.
Bright eyes stared at the car in front of her. She could see the familiar Mclaren in front of her, passing the checkered flag. She could see the Mclaren team cheering by the fence near him. Y/n could only see Mclaren in front of her.
Only one car out of 22.
"P2, y/n," breathed out her race engineer on the radio as she passed the checkered flag. There's a hint of disbelief and wonder on his tone. "Fucking P2."
She screams, no doubt flooding the team radio with her rather inhumane scream as she let go her steering wheel and hold the top of her helmet. It's a bit unbelievable, a bit hard to belief, and of course, so so fucking wonderful.
"YES!" screamed the woman. "YES YES YES! OH MY GOD!"
Y/n could hear the announcer announcing the result of the race, voice excited at what just happened. After all, today on the 18th of March 2012, a Formula One history was just made. This day would be written as one of the most memorable moments in the history of Formula One.
As she hopped out of her car, her team is already out there, ready to celebrate with her.
Some would have criticized that action as excessive, considering that she didn't won the race. Though, this race was the debut race for Porsche. This is the race where the team can show the world that they're not here to play. They're here to win.
It could be said, that both the team and y/n's goal are aligned.
The girl wants to show the world of motorsport her worth. Want to show everyone, that she deserved her seat in this sport. Want to show, in this men dominated sport, a girl like her too, can thrive.
Her team too, wants to show the world of motorsport their worth. To show everyone that Porsche Royale Formula One team is here to stay and to make history.
Maybe that's why they worked so well. Maybe, that's why both Porsche and y/n became unbelievably loyal to each other. That the team, had became her second home and y/n had become someone that the team can trust fully.
If she looked back towards that day, she can confidently say that it was one of the happiest day in her life. It was her first race in Formula One, it was the start of her historical journey in this sport, and of course, it was the day that she managed to shut every criticism that was directed at her way.
It was satisfying.
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2018
Y/n's presence is almost mythical at the grid.
Which is a bit weird, considering she had been a constant presence in the grid for years at this point. Still, it still didn't diminish the almost divine status that she had achieved amongst the fans of motorsport.
After all, there are drivers that's like that. Drivers that can command a room with their simple presence or someone that had reached so many achievements throughout their career that it sounds almost unbelievable. Drivers, that you had ever only heard of and never seen. Drivers, that had inspired the next generations of motorsport enthusiast to follow this adrenaline filled career path.
Y/n is one of those drivers.
Today is the pre-season testing and y/n is ready to retire from the sport.
"I'm going to retire," said Y/n as she groaned, stretching her back inside of Porsche's hospitality. "Like for real." 
Truthfully, the weather today is perfectly warm. Barcelona in February had never been glaringly hot. The sun is shining above them and yet the temperature didn't rise unbelievably high. It should be a good day to do your daily routine and well, for y/n, this should be the perfect weather to do the pre-season testing.
Though, the ache on her joints is saying otherwise.
A hand hit her shoulder playfully. "You're only 23" said her athletic trainer, Luca. "That's like the age where everyone started their career," he said as he slid a strange concoction of healthy smoothie in front of her. "Drink this."
"But I started my career when I was 17," whined the woman as she sniffed the drink. It smells healthy. And weird. She really doesn't like it. "It's almost 6 years, I think it's an appropriate time for retirement, or maybe a promotion. Do you think I'll make a great team principal?"
The mere thought of this woman being Porsche's new team principal sends shiver down Luca's back. "Honestly, don't even joke about that because I seriously think Herman will get a heart attack."
Y/n laughed at that. Just imagining her team principal being shocked to the point of a heart attack just because she's going for a retirement is a bit funny to her. 
It's the start of the 2018 season and she could feel excitement ringing through the air.
Somehow, the grid feels different than usual. People seems more excited, a bit wary, and yet, still excited. Y/n likes to think that it was because how exciting the 2017 season was, considering how intense the battle between her and Lewis for the driver championship title. Though, she knows that it was not the reason.
She glanced towards the cameras that littered around her.
In this season, somehow, there will be a documentary crew film documenting their 2018 season. Which is, weird. Formula One teams are notorious with their secrets and fear of corporate espionage after all. Now they're letting a filming crew to document all of the behind the scene of the season?
It's a new concept. 
Herman had told her that almost all teams in the grid had allowed the filming crew to lingered around the garage. Well, except Mercedes and Ferrari - which shocked her a bit because she really think that this kind of thing is something that Lewis would do. But oh well.
Hopefully, this kind of coverage can boost the ratings of Formula One and make the sport more known to the general public. It will be great if there's a lot of new fans who will start to watch the sport from the documentary.
"Now that there's a film crew following us around," started y/n with a snicker, leaning back on her seat. "I think it will be more dramatic for me to announce my retirement right now, no?"
Luca sighed, "Y/n-"
"I hope you're not serious about that," said a dry voice behind her. 
She doesn't even have to turn around to see who's standing behind her. "Herman!" she greeted, cheerful as always and as if she was not talking about possible retirement just a few seconds ago. "My favorite team principal, how are you?"
"Good," said the German, raising an eyebrow at her. "As long as your retirement plan stays like that. A plan."
The female nudged his shoulder playfully. "You know I love you too much for that."
"Really," muttered the team principal as if he doesn't believe what she's saying. "With how you behave lately, I really doubt that."
That, actually, made her laughed louder. "What do you mean? I've been a perfect worker!" she said, tone full of teasing. "I'll be a more star worker if our car this season is perfect like always." At this, she added a wink towards a team of mechanics that's sitting on the next table, eliciting a round of laugh from them.
"I'm counting on you then," said Herman as he took a seat in front of her. "I'm here to talk about other things."
She blinked. "What other things?"
The pre-season testing had barely started and he's already here to talk some serious stuff towards her? She's allergic to that.
"Someone wants to meet you," continued Herman as he took out his iPad, writing something on it. His thick rimmed glasses glinting. "It's a favor from a friend."
"Oh?" asked y/n. "Like,  I don't know if you're aware, I'm a pretty popular girl," she started and Luca actually has the nerve to roll his eyes at her. "Lots of people want to meet me."
"It's a favor from Fred," continue the man, ignoring her comment. "It seems they found a star driver or something, someone that they really cherish. And apparently that rookie is a huge fan of yours"
Y/n blinked at that. Fred Vasseur is the team principal for Sauber Formula One team, one of the teams in the grid right no. They never really interacted much with Sauber, though she do knows that Herman and Fred are friends. Golf buddy or something. While the Sauber team itself is not one of the top team that will compete for the championship, it's famous for one thing.
Its relation to Ferrari.
While true, it's not like Sauber is Ferrari's b team like what Toro Rosso is to Red Bull, they still have a really close partnership with each other. Like really close. So close to the point that almost every part of Sauber came from Ferrari. For Fred Vasseur himself to ask a favor to Herman for their rookie driver can only mean one thing. This rookie driver is projected to drive for Ferrari.
A competitor then, she thought idly. 
"Well, I'm honored," the woman finally said. "So where's the superstar?"
"They should be here soon-"
Just at that, someone opened the door towards Porsche's hospitality, calling Herman's name. "Herman!" greeted Fred as he entered the building with a perky energy. "And of course, y/n, always lovely to meet you."
"Freddie, Froyo, Fredman, it's been awhile," she greeted back, standing up to give the man a short hug.
Maybe it's because Sauber itself is not a champion winning team that it made them interact easier. After all, she can’t even imagine greeting Christian or Toto like this.
"Yes, yes," laughed the man, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable at the random nicknames being used. "I told Herman already, but there's someone that want to meet you."
It was at this, that y/n realized that there's someone standing behind Fred.
A man, maybe around y/n age, a bit younger perhaps, could be seen standing a bit awkwardly. He's wearing the white and red Sauber shirt, paired with a ripped skinny jeans. From the get go, it's obvious that he seems uncomfortable at the sudden familiar setting of Porsche's hospitality. At the same time, his eyes looks excited and a bit jittery.
Y/n immediately knows that this is the future superstar. Sauber's apparent cherished rookie driver who is now being projected to be one of Ferrari's future driver.
For a career prospect, not bad. A Ferrari driver certainly is a good option. Though, y/n is sure if this Formula One driver gig doesn't work out, he can be a model or someone in the entertainment industry. Because honestly, the guy is really pretty to look at.
Warm green eyes, messy dark colored hair, and a nice face to look at. If he ever decided to become a model, he could probably be a successful one.
"Y/n," called out Fred, catching her attention. "This is Charles Leclerc, he's a big fan of yours."
He seems a bit embarrassed at that mention, what with how his cheeks started to redden and how he flail his hands around. Which is, cute.
"Really?" she said, smiling as a teasing grin entered her eyes. "Really honored, then."
Charles let out a huge smile at that, looking a bit relieved. "I should be the one saying that," he said and his English is thick with accent. French, she realized. "I've been following you since your debut."
She let out a low whistle. "2012? That's a long time," laughed y/n easily. "You were how old back then?"
"15," he replied.
"Ah, I'm only 2 years older than you then," she said, putting it at the back of her mind. "At long last, it's no fun to be the youngest on the grid for so long."
Herman coughed, eyes staring at her straight in the eyes, "There's Verstappen, he's also two years younger than you."
"But Max is way too serious!" she whined out, remembering Christian’s favorite driver. Ever. "It's no fun to tease him when he gets all broody, which is like 70% of the time."
"It's because you keep annoying him," said Herman dryly. "Anyway, Charles, correct? What do you think of F1 so far?"
Now, all of them are seated at the same table, making conversation with each other. Honestly, y/n is a bit invested at the topic. Moreso on Charles because with him entering his rookie season is like a wake up call for her.
Lately, more and more young driver debuted in F1. It started with Max and Carlos back in 2015. Younger and talented drivers with more vigor and a brand new vision for the sport. Back when she debuted, the grid was way older with more experienced driver filling up the spots. Now, it seems, the teams want to change the way they view the sport a bit.
Younger drivers started to arrive every year. Guys who had karted since they were four or guys who basically just skipped F2 straight into F1. Thinking back, it's a bit sad, because it made her realize that more of the older driver too, will retire soon. That the grid will change soon.
Hm, she thought. It's an added pressure for her.
Maybe it's because she debuted so young and had become a world champion when she was only in her second season, it made her think that she's way older than she actually is. This year is her seventh year in F1 and now she has three driver championships under her belt.
It's a bit jarring thought that she is now one of the most experienced driver in the grid.
Charles talked about his experience so far with so much enthusiasm and starry eyes that it made her want to protect him a bit. Which is normal, because to all of them, Formula One is a dream that they had ever since childhood. When they first entered the sport, it's only normal for them to look at everything with full of reverent and wonder.
The male seems to live and breathe just for racing. A feeling, that y/n can relate to.
"So you liking it so far?" she spoke up, catching everyone attention. "Does it fill up your expectations?"
"Yes," nodded Charles with a huge smile. "I'm really excited for the first race."
"Nice," grinned y/n.
Really, if anyone ever asked her what is one of the defining moment in her life, she would described this moment at one of them.
With Charles smiling in front of her inside the Porsche's hospitality, with the impending knowledge of a new generation of Formula One, and with the fear of destroying all of those Formula One hopeful dreams. It was at this moment that she decided something.
She really really wants this sport to be enjoyable for the young drivers. For them to have someone to talk to and not became a clueless little shit like she was all those years ago.
It was a decision that stayed on her mind as they continue their conversation. Herman seems interested in Charles, not that they can sign him for Porsche considering his love for Ferrari, but still, having an option is still a good one.
They stayed and chatted there until both Charles and Fred presence is needed back in the garage. 
"Hey Charles," she said a few minutes later when both Fred and the younger male was about to leave Porsche's hospitality. The younger had asked her to sign three hats, saying that it's for him and his brothers who is also a big fan of hers. 
Perking up, he motioned for Fred to walked ahead before he jogged back to where she's standing.
Pulling out of her phone, y/n let out a grin towards him, "Give me your number yeah? I think it will be fun to stay in contact."
Charles stared at her.
"Seriously?" he asked, blinking rapidly.
"Yeah."
Almost immediately, he scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket, to the point that he almost dropped it to the ground. It was such a comical sight that it made her laugh, which seems to only embarrassed him further. Maybe when they became a lot closer she can tease him more about this? Certainly a thought for the future.
They exchanged number and Charles thanked her many times, saying things that she's his idol and he really admire her. Y/n merely watched him, amused, at the blabbering, before he seems to realize that he had talked too much and excused himself in such a hurry.
Well, certainly, Formula One will be more interesting in the coming years, right?
Humming, y/n entered the Porsche hospitality once more, only to be called by Herman to discuss something.
"So," started the man, finger idly fiddling with the papers in front of them. "We need to talk about your teammate,"
"Ah," realized y/n. This is going to be a long and painful discussion.
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Drive to Survive Season 1 episode 3
It's all about Porsche
Will Buxton appeared on screen, smiling. "The thing about Porsche is," started the man. "It's a team that most drivers doesn't want to be in."
A shot of y/n talking with Herman and the mechanics could be seen. Her face is serious as they discussed details about today's Grand Prix and the car. They seems dedicated in their work, a true showcase of the prowess of one of the top team in Formula One.
Which makes Will's earlier statement a bit bizarre.
"At least, if you're not y/n l/n," continue the man with a small laugh. "It certainly not because they have a bad car-"
Porsche's Formula One car could be seen zooming at top speed, a clear indicator on how fast the vehicle is going.
"-Nor is it because it's a bad team-"
Y/n's car could be seen entering the pit stop, something that the Porsche team handle flawlessly without a hitch.
"It's because of the strict hierarchy there," laughed Will, a wry smile appearing on his face. "A really really strict one."
Herman appeared after that, eyebrow raising at the question that the producer had asked off screen. "I think it's quite obvious who will be the no.1 driver," said the man bluntly. "It's an open secret in Formula One, no? About no.1 and no.2 driver?"
Christian Horner appeared in the dark interview room, wearing a dark cardigan and a light blue cardigan underneath it. The man laughed, almost throwing his head back at that. "No.1 and no.2 driver is common in Formula One, but no one impose it as strict as Porsche," said the man, eyes full of amusement. "The team is basically a y/n cheerleading squad."
Many clips appeared after that, of team orders to let the woman through or the team failures to handle a simple pit stop when it's not y/n on the car. Articles too appeared, of how often Porsche has to change one of their driver and to find someone that is perfectly fine to be the second best in their team.
It's a team that prioritize y/n. It's a team, that undoubtedly will choose y/n l/n as their number one driver and will never budge on that decision. 
The thing is, if Porsche is not a championship winning team, this shouldn't be a problem. Many drivers are grateful to have a seat in Formula One even they ended up not in one of the top team.
But Porsche is a team that fights for championship. Their cars are fast. They're the team that fight for wins and podiums. They don't fight for points, they want wins and glory.
A complete domination. Just like their motto. And when a driver tasted that sweet sweet taste of victory, it's hard to stop.
"Formula One driver needs to think that they're the best," said Will. "It's a mindset that they need to have if they want to survive in this sport," he continued. "Can they really, give up wins for their teammate? when their direct rival is that teammate herself?"
Y/n has too much presence for her to be the number 2 driver.
She is the icon of the sport, someone that is way too talented and way too influential to be the second best driver. The team itself was basically assembled around the woman needs.
The mechanics is someone that she can easily discuss the car with, her race engineer remains unchanged ever since her debut because she's comfortable with him, heck, even Herman position is secured because y/n actually likes him as a team principal.
It's y/n l/n very own personal cheering squad and everyone knows it.
"Fighting y/n on track is already a hard fight to win," continue Will. "A really hard one."
A clip of her racing and passing so many drivers could be seen. Her skilled handling of the car, overtaking those in front of her, and being an all around driver that deserves the title of a world champion.
"Fighting y/n for a spot as Porsche's number one driver? Impossible."
"The drivers need to understand that we're fighting for championship," said Herman as the scene cuts back into him. "We need someone that can support us in that cause."
Christian appeared, laughing. "Well, there's a reason why they need to change their second driver five times since 2012," said the man, looking so fucking amused. 
Porsche after all, is y/n's kingdom.
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Taglist!
@mellowarcadefun @glai1023-blog @jjkclub @newlifeforus @jpg3 @sp1cycurry @eternalharry @be-your-coffee-pot @itsjustkhaos
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1K notes · View notes
writingworlds · 3 months
Text
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐)
Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader
Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?
Warning(s): shitty Google translate and potential racing inaccuracies
Author’s Note: I truly didn’t expect that much love on the first part of Prestige, especially because it was my first time really doing a social media au 🥹🥹. Here’s the second part and I hope you all enjoy 🫶🫶🫶
Please let me know if you want to be tagged and I do hope I got everyone who asked last time 😊😊
porscheagracing
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liked by arthur_leclerc, mickschumacher, yn_porsche, and others
porscheagracing Preseason testing ☑️
Up next: the Bahrain Grand Prix
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yn_porsche 🖤❤️💛
username oh so Porsche is gonna be fast fast
username are we really that surprised? They’ve been wanting this for ages
username okay but Sebastian in his team principal gear 😩😩
username they all look so good 😍😍
username they already smashed preseason I can’t wait to see them on the track
username the livery looked so good in motion omg
username black fireproofs Porsche keep doing what you are doing
porscheagracing 😉😉
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Charles Leclerc
Your car looked fast out there today
Y/N Porsche
I’m sorry who is this 😅
Charles Leclerc
Charles Leclerc
Arthur gave me your number
I hope that’s okay…
Y/N Porsche
Oh!!! Hi Charles 😊
It’s completely okay, I was just taken by surprise is all 😅
As for the car…I can’t say cause I wasn’t there but I do hope it was fast
Charles Leclerc
It looked good!!
Ferrari will have a competitor in Porsche that’s for sure
Y/N Porsche
I mean we can’t have Red Bull winning everything again this year can we 😉
Charles Leclerc
I keep telling Max he should give someone else a turn 😂
Y/N Porsche
He should, and that someone will be us
Charles Leclerc
Don’t get too ahead of yourself
This is still just your first year on the grid and well Ferrari is still the best
Y/N Porsche
Whatever you say “il predestinato” cause Porsche will be winning a race before Ferrari this year
Charles Leclerc
Is that a bet?
Y/N Porsche
It could be
Charles Leclerc
Oh you’re on
yn_porsche
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liked by milaaa, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and others
yn_porsche let the games begin 😉
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milaaa OH- 😳
milaaa I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN THE GROCERY STORE
francisca.cgomes que lindaaaa
username MOMMY, sorry MOMMY
username SAY IT LOUDER
username so…the Porsche princess finally makes her return…
username 🥵🥵🥵🥵
username SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
username this should be illegal oh my god
charles_leclerc
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liked by yn_porsche, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, and others
charles_leclerc are you ready for it?
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pierregasly 🔥🔥
arthur_leclerc oh no
arthur_leclerc OH NO
username arthur you good?
arthur_leclerc no.
username CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC
username if i said what i am thinking I would be banned 😳😳
username do you need a dog? Cause I can bark
yn_porsche 😁
username what’s with the smile girlie 🤨🤨
username HIS FACE HAIR JAWLINE EVERTHING
username what’s it like being god’s favourite 😭😭😭😭
username 🥵🥵🥵😩😩😩
username I don’t run but for Charles I might jog
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Mila Bolinsky
Y/N WHY DO YOU AND CHARLES LECLERC HAVE MATCHING CAPTIONS
Y/N Porsche
Girl chill 😭😭
Mila Bolinsky
I WILL NOT CHILL TILL I GET AN ANSWER
Y/N Porsche
We just made a bet 🤷‍♀️
Mila Bolinsky
A BET??
YOU DONT JUST MAKE A BET WITH CHARLES LECLERC
NOW COME ON
TALK
Y/N Porsche
All I said was that Porsche was going to win a race before Ferrari this year and Charles disagreed
So we made a bet
Mila Bolinsky
WITH WHAT CONDITIONS
Y/N Porsche
If I win (and I will) Charles has to publicly announce on every social media account that he is actually French and must change his profile picture to the French flag
If he wins I must forgo my status as the “Porsche Princess” and go to a Grand Prix in Ferrari gear and go out to dinner with him
That’s all 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
Mila Bolinsky
I-
I have no words
None
f1
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liked by mick_schumacher, yn_porsche, porscheagracing, and others
f1 And with that masterclass of a drive mick_schumacher wins the first race of the 2025 season AND the first race for porscheagracing
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porscheagracing LETS GO MICK SCHUMACHER 🖤❤️💛
yn_porsche AYYYY MICKY
arthur_leclerc 🫡🫡
papaporsche The first of many ���
mickschumacher An honour, truly
username OH- so Porsche really is gonna be the new it girl of f1
username this. this is my team
username Red Bull has some competition this year apparently 👀
username I can’t believe I saw this live
username OMG you are so lucky
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Prestige Taglist: @405rry @chasing-liberosis @h4miltonforza @escapism-writer @spilled-coffee-cup @lightdragonrayne @marshmummy
957 notes · View notes
oofthwoods · 4 months
Text
INTRODUCTION! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: get to know porsche's bet for the newest legend in the making in formula one, dubbed as the echo.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: i've been absolutely hooked in @disneyprincemuke vettel reincarnated's series and i have always loved fem!drivers so i decided to give my own take on this <3. | can definitely be read as a reader insert, but the driver will driver under a specific flag and related to a famous driver! even so, physical descriptions will not be given, so you can definitely picture yourself
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our fem!driver has a few titles to her name! the most well known, echo, comes from her championship winning f3 & f2 seasons, where she was consistently the fastest driver in the grid, leaving behind only a faint trace of her presence for the other drivers to see.
other nicknames include "lightning" due to her great performances on wet races (as the media says, the only thing faster than the rain is the lightning.), "pg" (stands for both princess of the grid, which is an old karting nickname, and parental guide, given due to her young age), and the legacy.
she is the daughter of ex- formula one driver, rubens barrichello. she drivers under the brazilian flag. i picture her as the middle child, so that would place her date of birth between '01 & '04.
has a streak of four consecutive championship winning years: the italian formula 4 in 2019, freca in 2020, formula 3 in 2021 and formula 2 in 2022.
art grand prix girlie! has been with the french team for both her f3 and f2 seasons.
she was a red bull junior, but was suddenly cut from the team after her formula 3 season. helmut mark claimed that she wasn't consistent enough to justify a contract renewal, which was clearly bullshit as she had literally won the championship.
competed in formula 2 without an academy, but was in talks with porsche to join their team.
committing to her lightning nickname, she chose 95 as her number!
grew up in the paddock! her dad loved to take her around the world with him, and she became a familiar face to all crew and drivers. although she is the youngest of the current grid, she is closer to the oldest guys due to knowing them since she was very young.
outside of formula 1, her closest friends are gabriel bortoleto, felipe drugovich, frederik vesti, liam lawson and clément novalak.
within formula 1, she is closest to fernando alonso, lewis hamilton (both who met her when she was a baby), mick schumacher (her teammate at porsche), lando norris, alex albon and oscar piastri. but she is friendly with everyone, and tries to know them better — it does help that she is a social butterfly who could talk to the walls even if they don't answer.
about porsche: have been in the talks of joining the grid for a long time, and finally got their approval for 2023. they could go for veteran drivers but decided against it, placing their bets of mick schumacher, who had just been dropped from haas, and y/n barrichello, the f2 champion.
when the news dropped, it was the talk of the town! not only she would be the first female to compete in formula one in several years, but the duo barrichello-schumacher would be present again in the grid!
actually loves doing grill the grid and other challenges. some people think it's the rookie rush, but she has always loved playing those games.
has the biggest fat girl crush on susie wolff. would kiss the ground she walks if she could.
still needs a lot pr training due to amount of cursing and off-pocket things she says. apparently saying "i'll throw myself in front of verstappen's car and change the trajectory of his entire life" is not socially acceptable, neither is saying that she's plotting his accidental death.
sponsored by vivienne westwood, which she claims is probably the coolest thing to happen to her.
507 notes · View notes
sterredem · 1 month
Note
Hey, I can't find if your requests are open (if they aren't please ignore this). Can you do an arthur leclerc x fem!driver!reader where she gets into f1 and he doesn't (angst!!) and she comforts him?
Unfair
First ending
Face claim: Pinterest girls/Barbara Palvin/Bianca Bustamante + other women in motorsport.
(That I use these people doesn’t mean that I know or support them, I just use them because Barbara has a lot of good pictures in the spoor and Bianca has good pictures in the car and on the podium)
Summary: The request
Word count: 2549
Warning: Angst, lying(?), happy ending, fluff at the end
A/N: this took a bit to write but u really like it. It is a bit different then the request (a bit more Angsty) but I think it is my best yet (which isn’t hard with this being my 3rd fic). I hope you enjoy and don’t forget to like/comment/repost and please give me feedback🫶🫶 Btw sorry for the long wait.
The other ending will be posted soon!
Also I hope you like the graphics, it took literally hours to make😭😭
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They both knew that this could happen. That was the risk with dating your coworker in a motorsport. And especially formula 2.
So when y/n heard that next season she would drive in formula 1 with Porsche, she was really excited. Of course she was. She was going to be the first Women in a few decades to drive in Formula 1. And for a relatively new but very good team. With Porsche being in F1 since the 2019 seasons it was the newest, but unlike HAAS they were actually good.
And she was happy that she got a contract. She would drive a few of the best names of motorstoprt. And her team printable, Sebastian Vettel had promised her big things.
But when she actually thought about what this all meant she begun to get scared. She would need to tell Arthur. Arthur who always wanted to be in Formula 1. Arthur who is her best friend and her boyfriend.
How could she tell him? How could she tell him that she would get to live their dream? How could she tell him that he would drive alongside his brother before him?
This was all a mess. And the worst part was that she sined a NDA so she couldn’t tell him until the announcement was up. The only people that currently knew where; her family, her trainer and her manager.
She tried to do everything she could so she can tell him. But she just couldn’t, so she needs to live with a big secret for a few months. And when it is announced that she would go to Formula 1 she doesn’t know is he will ever forgive her.
And not only because she didn’t tell him and they promised they would tell each other everything. No but because they promised to get there together, to both get into F1. And now, Y/n would get to drive there and Arthur would be left behind in F2.
So she would need to live a secret until it was revealed to the world. The only thing she could get out of the contact is that she could tell Arthur a day before the announcement. Which she still wasn’t happy about but it was something. So when the time came to finally tell him she was a nervous wreck. Understandable.
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The day before the announcement finally came. And Y/n was really nervous. So when Arthur finally came home she made some of his favourite food and got mentally ready to tell him.
And to say Arthur was confused was an understatement. He came home to his girlfriend cooking his favourite food and looking very nervous. So of course he was worried. Would she brake up with him? Dis something happen? But he wanted to wait for her to say something. And that happens after they were done doing the dishes and were laying in the couch.
“Hey Arthur can we talk?” Y/n nervously while playing with her fingers and not really looking at Arthur.
“Yes mon ange what is wrong?” Arthur asked relieved that she will finally talk about what is wrong. He tried to look at her but couldn’t lock eyes.
“Promise me you will hear me out before you react of get mad.” She said while finally looking in his eyes. But they aren’t filled with the usual adoration or love, no the where filled with nerves and a bit of fear.
“Of course mon ange. What is going on?” He asked growing more and more worried. While trying to grapple with his hand. And failing.
“So you know that PREMA is dropping me right? Well when it was announced some people reached out to me and offers me something…” she slowly said while looking at him for his reaction.
“Well one of those people was Sebastian Vettel and he offered me a place on Porche in Formula 1. And as you can understand I couldn’t refuse, so we got talking and they gave me an amazing offer.” She said while looking at his reaction. Which wasn’t the best, it got from worry to confusion to some sort of mild anger.
“So last August he gave me a contract and I signed it…” she said falling a bit silent at the end. And before Arthur could talk she began again.
“And I really wanted to tell you before, really. But they made me sign a NDA and I could only tell my manager and close family and some of the other team for legal reasons. And I tried everything, and initially I could not tell you until the announcement but I made a deal and I could tell you the day before. And now that is, so today is the day before. And again I am so sorry. Please don’t be mad.” She ranted while tears formed in his eyes while seeing him become more and more mad.
“Y/n… what? Is this some sick joke?” He asked while slowly fake laughing and looking at her with betrayal in his eyes.
“Baby please understand that I could not tell you.” She said slowly looking away.
“Don’t baby me! I know you couldn’t tell me after the contract, but you could tell me that you had an offer! And how could you take it? You know how much I want to get into F1?” He asked with betrayal in his voice.
“What was I supposed to do? Not take the offer and never get in Formula 1 just so you could have it or that we could go at the same time? And I could not tell you about the offer because I didn’t even know until I talked with Sebastian, my manager hid it from me because he didn’t want to get my hopes up!” She said now with tears going down her cheeks.
“I understand that but please! Did you even think about me?” He asked a bit louder.
“Of course I did! I just told you! I wanted to tell you the minute I got the offer! But I couldn’t because of that stupid team! I wanted to you to have a seat for F1! For whatever team, but I can’t! If I can I would give you my seat! But Arthur you need to understand that I need to think of myself sometimes! This a big deal for me! I will be the first women in Formula 1 in a few decades, and I will be the first women to be in the middle or upper field! I could be the first to be in a podium of even win!” She said now almost fully crying.
Arthur was silent for a bit while thinking about what she said. “Y/n i know all that. But you also need to understand that it is hard for me. Charles is in F1, Ferrarie dropped me, Jules and my dad died and wanted me and Charlie to drive, and now my girlfriend, who is also my childhood best friend, lied to me for months and you expect me to be okay with it? Merde Y/n you can’t expect this from me. I think I need some time alone.” He said trying to stay calm with tears in his eyes.
Y/n looked at his shocked about what he said. Did he want to break up? Did he want a part time break? Was he going to leave? She knows that she can’t hold him accountable for it, she did lie to him after all.
“Arthur please. I understand what you say. And I don’t hold you accountable for that, but please don’t leave.” She said now with them both full on crying.
“Mon amour, I won’t leave you, I am just going to go to my mom for a bit. Think about everything and then we can talk about this in a few days.” He said while wiping her tears away.
He slowly stood up and walked to there room to grab a few of his things. She still sat on the couch thinking if she should stop him or just let him go.
She decided on the later one, because it was better to give him time to think about it before things were said that they don’t mean.
A few minutes later Arthur came downstairs with a bag of his stuff. He grabbed his coat and keys and looked at Y/n again. “I will message you when I am there. Please understand that I still love you and I am not breaking up, but I just need some time.” He says with a half smile.
“I understand, please take all the time you need. And when you are ready to talk I am here.” She said while also half smiling with more tears forming in her eyes. “I love you, please be safe”
“I will” he says while walking out of the door and closing it. Y/n slowly slid down the wall with her head in her hands thinking everything over again.
Was this the right thing? Was she selfish for accepting the offer? Would she lose Arthur? Were they ever going to recover?
With all this on het mind she slowly stood up and walked upstairs. She got into the bathroom and did her night routine. After that she looked at the time and saw how early it still was so she decided to just watch some Gilmore Girls (you can chose whatever this is just my comfort series) while laying in bed trying to distract her from the argument they had earlier.
After watching it for a few hours she decided that it was getting late and decided to sleep and see what the day would bring tomorrow. The day that it would be announced.
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Instagram
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Liked by Susie_Wolff and 3.115.785 others
F1 BREAKING: Y/n y/l/n will be driving for Porsche the 2025 season!
We all welcome her to the grid and are excited to see her!
#y/n_y/l/n #Porsche #F1 @Y/n_y/l/n @Porsche
Comments
User1 OMG I AM SO EXITED
User2 so happy to see she got a seat after PREMA dropped her
Susie_Wolff So happy for you! I am happy to see more girls in Formula 1
Yourusername Thank you Susie! Exited to see you again!
Yourusername I am so happy and thankful for this opportunity!
User3 we got a women in f1 before gta 6
User4 So exited for more women in motorsports!
User5 women shouldn’t be in motorsports! It is a man dominated sport for a reason!
User6 why is Arthur not simping over his girlfriend like usual?!
User7 he could just be congratulating het irl don’t make a big deal out of this
User8 I agree with user7, just because he isn’t in the comments on a insta post doesn’t mean something happened. We shouldn’t speculate on there lives with absolutely no information about them at the moment.
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After the announcement was finally up Y/n felt worst then the slash before. Her and Arthur still hadn’t talked. And it welt like weeks (it was only 10 hours). She missed him, missed his laugh, his boyish smile, their useless conversation for hours, his kisses and hugs. Everything.
So when she finally got a massage from him she was happy to say the least.
|———————————<3—————————————|
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See you then*
|———————————<3—————————————|
For the next part there is a bit of explaining necessary. You can: keep reading this and then you have how the request is (with a fluffy ending and comforting) OR you can klick in the link and that will take you to the alternative ending (you will need to scroll down again until this part and then you have the Angsty ending)
Angsty ending
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After a few more massages back and forth they decided to meet up at their house instead of the cafe. So when the next day came she waited for Arthur to come back.
After a few hours of watching Gilmore Girls she heard the front door open. She paused the show and stood up from her bed, she walked downstairs and came face to face with Arthur.
“Hey” she said a bit awkwardly. She looked in his eyes and saw that he looked very tired and had red eyes. He had probably cried, the same with her.
“Hey, how are you?” He asked with a tired and raspy voice and the French accent.
“I’m doing okay. Want something to drink?” She asked trying to fill the awkward silence.
“No I’m fine. Could we just talk? I think it is the best if we just get it over.” He said trying to get to the point as fast as he can so they could make up again. He had missed her a lot, while he was at his maman she had given his a long and good scolding for leaving her and not listening her out. He realised that it was indeed a bad choice to leave her, he was just angry and upset so he did the only rational thing in his mind.
“Yeah of course.” She said while slowly walking to the living room. She looked back at him to see if he followed her and he did. She walked to the couch and sat on one end of it, wanting him to decide if he wants to sit next to her or far away from her.
He sat next to her.
“Okay so first of I want to say I am so sorry that I left, I know it was the wrong thing to do. But I was just angry, confused and upset with everything and then I said stuff and you said stuff and I just couldn’t anymore. But now I am ready to hear you out.” He said tampering a bit while fiddling with his hands.
“I understand that and it is completely okay, again I am really sorry I didn’t tell you but I can explain it to you.” She said while looking in his eyes.
“Okay so as I said; Kate, my manager, got a lot of offers from teams after my contract with PREMA expired, but she didn’t want to get my hopes up so she told me nothing. I only knew about it when she set up a meeting with Sebastian, we talked and he had a really good offer. A long contract, good money, good car and a good team. So I couldn’t say no. But then it came to PR and telling people, I asked who u could tell and I could only tell my team and my parents, I couldn’t even tell my siblings or friends. I asked if I could tell you but I couldn’t, they wanted to keep it low-key so that it would be a big surprise. The only thing I fixed is that I could tell you the day before. So I did and you know how that turned out. I really wanted to tell you but I also needed to sign a NDA so I couldn’t tell you about the contract or the car. And this may sound really bad and it may sound like I chose a bad team but no; they only did it to protect us. Me because if it came out before there could be serious danger for me. And for you so you could many still enjoy F2 and get into you’re dream team. But now I realise that how I handled it was really wrong and I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me because I really missed you.” She said the last part a bit out of breath.
Arthur looked to be deep in thought. He thought about everything she said. And he understood it. But now he was really upset with how he reacted.
“Mon amour I am so sorry. I should have heard you out earlier” he said while grabbing her face. “I and so sorry for how I reacted. I hope you can understand why. I as just confused, jealous and upset. I was confused because for me it came all of a sudden and upset because again why would you tell me? And I was really jealous because you wou get to be in F1 and drive with my brother before me.”
“I completely understand my love, and I understand it about the jealous part, I would too.” She said while grabbing his face.
After talking for a few more minutes they decided to go to the bedroom and watch something.
“Hey love do you want to watch that French series that you talked about?” Y/n asked while playing with his hair and cuddling.
“Yeah for sure mon amour” he said with a smile on his face. He looked up at her and admired her beauty. “You looked beautiful ma belle” he said with a slight blush.
“She looked down at his and smiles “wel thank you handsome. You don’t look that bad yourself.” She said blushing.
After watching a few episodes of the show and talking they decided to go to sleep.
But before she fell asleep she heard Arthur whisper something.
“Je t'aime mon amour, merci pour tout.” (I love you my love, thank you for everything.)
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charles-leclerizz · 2 months
Text
EPISODE 01 : Start your engine
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🏁 EPISODE AGE RATING : U/A 16+ [contaings swearing]
🏁 GENRE : Drama, Action, Sports, Romance
🏁 WORD COUNT : 10 K [ 10 , 366 WORDS ]
🏁 MUSIC SUMMARY : THE GREATEST BY SIA, PUMPT IT - BLACK EYED PEAS
🏁 CREDIT [S] : "BEHIND THE SCENES" BANNER, NETFLIX PLAY BAR BY ME [@charles-leclerizz], TEXT DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune
🏁 TAGS : MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon], OTHERS [@weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam, @inejghafawifesblog,d3kstar], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK !
DIRECTORS CUT : first episode children, better get soome snacks and a drink, and i highly reccomend looking at the masterlist, aisha's profile and the porsche f1 team links, since they will explain everything. It is also recommendeed you first read the trailer, which is once again found on the masterlist below.
Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷
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The opening credits of the series begin to play, revealing bold block letters reading,
“Bahrain 2025”
And in the background, the black fades to reveal an aerial view of the landmark circuit, a staple of the history that defines Formula One. As the shot zooms in, we see the morning mist rolling over the grey, freshly re-laid tarmac of the track leading up to the garages of each of the 10 teams, most of them shutdown and blocked away from prying eyes. Though, as the camera moves forward, the view widens and we can see at the very end of the line, the Porsche garage emitting a yellow glow.
The acrylic entrance leaks hues of gold whilst we finally approach the opening where we see Aisha jumping in place, a set of Bose x Porsche headphones sat on her ears, the white body and metallic automobile logo on the muffs bouncing with her movements.
She looks up from her focussed point beneath her, facing the camera that zooms in and captures the determined flare within the pools of her eyes.
 The music, already beginning its powerful bass bursts, dims and briefly we can hear her laboured breathing as she stretches her hands above her and unzips the tight athleisure jacket that she had worn previously for warmth. The adidas logo crumples as she throws it away, revealing a cropped sports bra, white with grey stripes at the sides containing an embroidered Porsche logo on her left breast.
Soon enough, the music comes blaring back and the camera merely turns to follow her body as she begins to run away from the safety of her team enclosure. The scene ends with her exiting the shot, running down the initial straight of the first ever track she will race as a formula one driver.
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“Aisha, what drives you in the world of Formula One?” A deep, cryptic voice off camera asks the driver sitting in shot. She smiles menacingly and leans back against her seat, her hands planted on her elegantly crossed legs as she adjusts the low cut, ‘V’ collar of her waistcoat, the colour matching the iconic Porsche guards’ red, of the rest of her risqué pantsuit.
“What drives me?” She chuckles, a low, raspy amusement that reverberates against the stormy backdrop behind her, “The competition, the domination, it runs in my blood;” She leans forward, as if the camera crew were privy to her obvious need to achieve. Aisha’s thin, golden bangles on each of her wrist’s jingle as she goes to adjust her volumous hair, “it’s not about the winning, it’s about obliterating the finish line.” She shrugs nonchalantly, despite the aggressive competitiveness that crackles in the air.
The voice chuckles at her threatening demeanour, yet continues, “Some media outlets commented on your driving style, since F2 and F3. They say it’s violent. What’s your response?”
Aisha bites her lip, thinking on the best way to diplomatically answer the question, despite her need to curse the people who doubted her.
Instead, she sighs with faux disappointment and her wide, mascara rimmed eyes move down to her rouge and gold nails whilst one of her fingers comes to slip beneath the platinum stud that sits comfortably on the left of her nose.
“Violent?” She asks, her voice barely above a murmur, “They could’ve been more descriptive.” She rolls her eyes once before inhaling, “Try...relentless. When I’m on track, behind the wheel, it’s war. And I aim to be the last one standing, if you can’t get with the program, move out the way. Cause I’m here to win.”
Her promise of no mercy is palpable as she shifts minutely in her seat, tapping her nails against one another whilst waiting for next question.
“What about the rest of the grid?” The interviewer prompts, treading carefully with his words, “Any words for them?”
Aisha scoffs under her breath, uncrossing her legs and flipping over the golden dainty necklace that rests within her exposed cleavage, the glinting logo of her team catches the light whilst she adjusts herself.
“Why words? They’ll know what I’m here for when I pass them. They’ll feel it, the fear, the resignation. I’m a whirlwind, all they can do is get swept up in it, this season, I am not racing against them, their teams or even their car; I’m racing against their hatred of losing to me.”
She smiles at the camera, eyes crinkling at the sides as her nose scrunches, a pure juxtaposition to the threat that peeled out of her mouth like scalding, hot water.
“Before we end. For your fans, what do you want them to know?”
“Hold on for your life, they’re about to witness history on the track. Cause I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to fuck shit up.” Aisha grins wickedly and laughing loudly at the flurry of reactions off camera from the crew that stood behind the myriad of wires.
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Three different scenes are overlayed one another, the first being of Lewis Hamilton, giggling at someone off screen before focussing his large doe eyes onto the interviewer who also sat behind the large camera.
The second being 3X world champion Max Verstappen, who sits heavily onto the provided stool and sips at the can of the sugary energy drink in his hand, Max stared at the camera, a bored sheen coating his crystalline blue irises as the third, and final driver’s scene overtakes his.
This time Charles Leclerc enters the identical set, the Ferrari golden boy had narrowly escaped his fans-who’s screams of joy could be heard in the background as he waved a final time and pocketed a bright red, branded Ferrari pen whilst sighing, glancing around haphazardly.
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“Lewis”
Hamilton perks up at his name, smiling serenely, prompting the interviewer to continue.
“The world of Formula one is ablaze about new entry, Aisha Patel. Do you think, as a seasoned professional, she has what it takes to compete?”
Lewis whistles lowly, leaning back against his seat and wraps his arms around himself, “Damn- starting strong huh?” He snorts once before re-adjusting his posture, “Y’know, we’ve heard of her up here. And she’s talented, but obliterating F3 and F2 does not directly auto-translate to domination on our track.”
“Is that scepticism that I hear?” The interviewer chases after the hesitation in the driver’s voice, like a dog after a juicy bone.
“Call it...” Lewis arches an eyebrow as he mulls over his words, “Healthy cautiousness. I’m waiting to see how she handles the pressure after the lights go out.”
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“Max”
Max hums lazily, as though he had one too many bubbling seltzers that sat, pristine on the refreshments table, “Yeah?”
“Aisha Patel.”
Max clenches his jaw at the sound of her name.
“She’s said to rival your aggressiveness on track, what are your thoughts on her joining your world?”
Max scoffs at the seemingly preposterous statement, “What about her? She’s aggressive, so what? It’s skill that matters here in the big leagues. Give a baby a steering wheel to a supercharged car, that’ll be aggressive. I’m not holding my breath for her. “
“That sounds like someone who’s threatened?” He probes the already on edge driver.
“A threat?” Max chortles as if someone had offered him a mere penny for his thoughts, “I haven’t been threatened since kindergarten. I’ll let her have her try at the status quo, take one for the team and all.”
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“Charles”
The alarmingly red adorned man tilts his head inquisitively at the interviewer, his gentle smile popping his dimples.
“Miss. Patel has been said to be relentless on track, throwing caution to the wind. Your thoughts on her violent debut?”
Charles hums as he nods his head, “It’s nice to see fresh blood on track, bonne, she’s certainly caught people’s attention. Let’s see if she’s all bark and no bite.” He mummers the French praise before shrugging at the end of his sentence.
“You’re excited to compete against her?”
“Of course- who wouldn’t be? New team, new driver. The more varied the sport, the more interesting.” He answers neutrality laced into his words, despite the excited glint in his eye.
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“Thank you for your insights.” The interviewer thanks the men in their tapes, each of them reciprocating with equal politeness.
“Of course,” Lewis grins and claps his hands, turning to start chatting once again as he dismounts from the chair, already walking away.
“No problem,” Max nods his head once, stepping down from his seat whilst receiving a fresh can of Red Bull.
“Cheers mate,” The camera captures Charles leaning forward to shake the interviewer’s hand whilst patting his shoulder, before detaching to go and talk to the gaggle of Ferrari personnel who had gathered within the filming shed.
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The 2025 drivers had gathered onto the Bahrain track, the relentless mid-day sun beating down on them as a few of them had the pleasure of black umbrellas being held above them, whilst other’s held small hand-fans in the large palms, basking in the cool breeze that the battery powered trinket provided.
Aisha walked out, her racing shoes tapping against the tarmac as she made her way towards the others. A few Porsche employees trailed behind her, one of them stayed closer behind her, offering her a metallic, grey hand-held fan along with a chilled bottle of water.
“Thanks,” She murmured, brushing the hair that managed to escape her ponytail, “It’s fucking boiling.” Aisha complained, tugging at her fireproofs whilst another employee came up to her, patting her face with a setting powder as an attempt to dry her skin.
“Can’t really help it, love.” The media admin, Sarah, pointed out removing her focus from one of the jittery interns to the driver, “Now- you’re going to walk out, fans are going to see you. Are you sure you don’t want to hide your face right now?”
Aisha cracked open the bottle in her hand, having pressed the condensation coated plastic against her forehead long enough. She faced away from 2-3 people surrounding her to peak past the acrylic barrier, onto the track, where the rest of the drivers stood haphazardly scattered around the starting position boxes that had been freshly painted onto the concrete polymer.
“It’s fine, I think I’ve already heard all their opinions on me.” Aisha groaned, fanning her face again as she kicked a non-existent pebble beneath her toe, “What could go wrong?”
She peaked out again, like a tense meerkat, only to be surprised with her teammate, Pierre chatting with his former partner, Esteban Ocon. His racing suit was already zipped up fully as he basked in the fan’s unintelligible shouts and squeals, the thick, grey fabric stretched over his body nicely as the different sponsor logos morphed to the wrinkles and dents of the cloth.
“He’s already out there.” She hissed, “Making me look like shit.” Aisha banged the back of her crown against the wall that provided her with the much-needed shelter, from both the sweltering rays and the assessing gazes of the crowd above.
“Nonsense lovey.” Sarah assured her, picking at the hem of her fireproofs and pressing a few of the sweaty, stray strands of hair back into position, “Pedro’s just catching up with some friends.”
“Pierre.” Aisha corrected, pulling up her identical suit from hanging lowly from her waist to her shoulders, thankfully she still had time to leave it unzipped.
“Whatever.” She flapped her hand dismissively, “Baguette man isn’t doing anything you won’t have to.”
“Okay,” Aisha breathed out, keeping her lips taught and still as her rouge lipstick was touched up by another Porsche jersey adorned worker, “My helmet?” She looked around, patting herself, as though it would appear out of thin air.
Sarah looked around her surrounding, panicked, before snorting and pointing to the ledge behind the group, “There ya go babe.” She leaned past Aisha to knock on the head gear.
“I’m a mess,” Aisha whined, picking up her helmet whilst rubbing the glossy exterior with an open palm, she runs her fingers over her last name that’s printed on the back.
“A hot mess.” Sarah corrected her, hooking their elbows together whilst ushering forward the teenage interns next to them- their hands shaking with apprehension as they gripped the phones in their hands, the gadget recording each moment.
Aisha stilled slightly as her foot contacted the tarmac, the crowd already hushing with undivided interest on her mere shadow. She could feel anxious sweat begin to build up on the nape of her neck, flushing her face and glistening against her skin.
Finally, after a few minutes of inner turmoil, she allowed Sarah to guide her out within the crowd of other team’s media escorts and her fellow drivers. The grandstands erupted with chaos, the rushing of footsteps- scrambling to take the first photos of her in her debut, the unravelling of flags, the patriotic colours burning against the pristine plexi-glass barriers and multiple little girls shouting happily at her image.
Aisha forced a smile onto her face, the unexpected praise soothed her blushing ears as she waved up at the viewing boxes.
“Well, well. Nobody’s ever screamed like that for me.” A voice creeped up behind her, causing Aisha to whip around with a cautionary hand on her chest.
A cheeky grin greeted her, “Lando” Aisha breathed out, leaning to the side of his stature to acknowledge the rabid paparazzi behind of them with a tight-lipped nod.
“Hey,” He greeted her, bouncing on the balls of his feet and tapping the top of his helmet that sat squeezed between his arm and waist, “You nervous?” Lando tipped his head boyishly, his curls falling over his forehead, hazel eyes softening as he watched her.
“Not really,” Aisha lied, “do you need to pee?” She looked at him anxiously, watching as he stopped bouncing like a full bladdered toddler, and stood still. Lando chuckled under his breath and opened his mouth to answer, until he lurched forward under the weight of a heavy arm that hung from his shoulders.
“Little Lando Norris.” Daniel chuckled, rubbing his knuckles over the younger’s head, and snorted when Lando pushed his hand away stumbling out from his hold, “Already chatting up the newbie?” Daniel looks at Aisha with a smirk, “I think his pubes finally grew in.” He faux whispered, his voice gritty as he winked.
“I’m not chatting up anyone,” Lando smacked Daniel between the eyes before walking backwards, next to Aisha, “Just catching up.” He shrugged, side-eyeing her, gauging a reaction from her steely expression. Luckily, he got one, Aisha’s eyes widened slightly, her eyelashes fluttering to match her hearts faster pace as she slowly turned her head to meet his eyes.
“Catching up?” Daniel inquired, suddenly interested, “You guys know each other from before?”
“Yeah, we karted together.” Aisha crossed her arms over one another, before accepting a cold can of thumbs up from a staff member, “Still remember how he shit his pants.” She mumbled.
“I did not!”
“What the fuck.”
Both men exclaimed at the same time, Lando blushing a furious red and Daniel cackling loudly- leading to not only the attention from the other drivers that stood in a 200m vicinity but also Aisha snorting out her drink from her nose.
“I did not shit my pants.” Lando gritted out the last part, to stop prying ears of the other men approaching to become privy to his humiliation.
“You did though?” Aisha arched a brow at him, “I passed by you on the last lap, therefore winning-“ She poked her outstretched pinkie from her can into his puffed up chest, “And that made you so mad, that you shit your pants.”
“Oh god,” Daniel wheezed, taking support on his shorter teammate who had trotted up to join the conversation. Yuki scrunched up his face, tilting away from the force of the elder before looking at Aisha sympathetically,
“You excited?” He grinned slightly, showing off the gap between his front teeth.
“Definitely. How could I not be?” Aisha looked down at Yuki, shifting her weight slightly as an attempt to lower herself, “The crippling pressure? The thousands of viewers? The weight of both of my country’s on my shoulders?” Aisha blew a nonchalant breath from between her lips whilst waving her hand in front of her face, “No biggie.”
The three men stared at her, blank expressions on their face, one of them pressed their lips together, smacking them and creating an equally awkward “popping” noise for the group to bask in.
“I meant more like, the race and stuff..” Yuki mumbled, scratching the back of his head before yelping when Daniel smacked the nape of his neck, “But yeah, what you said works too, fo sho, no doubt, no doubt.” He corrected himself hastily.
“Fo sho?” A fourth voice chimed in, this time with a French lilt to his words, “Who’s got yuki talking like that?”
Aisha looked away amusedly from the smaller driver to the voice, her eyes widened at the blaring red that adorned the man in front of her.
“My period wasn’t due until after the race.” She commented, meeting the man’s intense gaze, “Are you here to ask if I’d like to continue watching?” She tilted her head innocently.
“Ah, I see.” He scrunches his nose at her, “You’ve got our baby Yuki talking like that.”
“Hey, fuck you man.” Yuki protested, throwing his arms up with a huff.
“I know you want to,” The seemingly french-man retorted back with a shameful wink,
“You wink like you’re trying not to cry.” Lando pointed out.
Aisha clapped her hands at her revelation, “That’s what it looked like!”
Lando shrugged, as though it was obvious.
“Okay I’m sorry, I’m not here to start the next French revolution or whatever-“ She mumbled, holding out a polite hand as a civil greeting.
Though, she was not met with his acceptance immediately, instead the three men surrounding her grimaced and hissed through their teeth- Daniel shook his hand out like he had just burned himself. Aisha looked around, oblivious to the reason for their reactions and jolted her hand out to the man.
“I’m from Monaco,” He snarked, accepting her hand begrudgingly, “Not France.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” She shrugged in reply.
“Charles” he gritted out, squeezing Aisha’s hand tightly- a poor attempt to veil his distaste, “Charles Leclerc, Ferrari driver.”
“Really?” Aisha squeezed harder, taking a step back to roll her eyes over his bright red suit, “Couldn’t tell.” She snorted.
“Right, well” Lando coughed, reaching forward to peel away both of their hands simultaneously, “This was fun. Meeting new people.” He took Aisha’s hand in his but dropped it quickly when she looked down at their conjoined fingers. Lando coughed, the tips of his ears blushing a furious scarlet, before he shifted to glance at his oh-so-interesting boots.
Luckily, the situation was saved by one of the administration workers clapping their hands and speaking robotically into a megaphone, “drivers, please make your way to your positions.”
The seasoned drivers around her began to exit their conversations and walk towards the bleachers style setup at the start line of the circuit. At least 12 black, metallic chairs sat in a row behind a small plaque, displaying bold white font that detailed the circuit name and the iconic formula one logo sprawled along the edges of the display board.
“Didn’t need this fucking helmet.” Aisha hissed to herself, jogging to one of the Porsche employees that stood at the edge of the camera shot, handing off the piece of equipment, before making her way back to the crowd.
She zipped up her suit and removed the piece of elastic from her hair, letting the noir waves fall down her shoulders as she scanned the already in place men in front of her, thankfully Pierre waved at her and ushered for her to take place next to him, standing behind the pair of Mercedes drivers who were snickering at some joke the other had just told.
Aisha huffed, clasping her hands behind her waist whilst jerking her head side to side due to odd strands of hair tickling her eyes and nose, before she could exasperatedly wipe her face with her hand, a pair of fingers had come and brushed against her nose. Aisha minutely followed the soft pads across her cheek before trailing her gaze up to the origin, Lando met her eyes, his own irises blown out as his hand lingered by her cheek- his thumb twitching across her skin before he coughed and re-took his position.
“Thank you,” She murmured beneath her breath, neutralising her face against the onslaught of obnoxious camera shutters and piercing sun rays.
“No problem,” Lando nodded slightly, his eyes flicking back to her face, tracing her features with his shy stare, “You did great in qualifying, yesterday.” He hastily complimented.
Aisha tried to fight against the blush that made its way up her neck, “thank you,” she snipped, pressing her lips together as a futile attempt at hiding her girlish smile.
Lando huffed out a laugh, turning his neck to grin at her, “anytime.”
Finally, the pictures had come to a stop, and the long-barrelled cameras were packed away and the grid were herded to a large, open roof truck. Another admin worker trailed behind the last driver into the pen-like vehicle, stepping up the stairs to hang back from the railing after locking the gate, “everyone’s here?’ she asked, giving a once over the flocked in men, and woman.
“Aisha, you’ll be first to talk to Lawrence,” She met eyes with Aisha, who was already waving to the rowdy fans who had collected at the banisters of the grandstands, “And then it’ll be whoever’s closest.”
The lady nodded once when the drivers thanked her, then she caught Aisha’s gaze again and she smiled reassuringly, “See you guys around.” She waved and dismounted from the railing with a jump.
The large platform began to move as the truck silently hummed to life, Aisha moved from her comfortable position at the back of the area-leaning against the matte, black railing towards Lawrence who smiled excitedly at her approaching figure. As she knitted through the small groups of 3 drivers littered in her path, she continued to wave at the fans who shouted and screamed at each subtle view they managed to glimpse of her.
“Aisha! Hi!” Lawrence greeted her, offering his hand for her to shake and swivelled around to collect a microphone.
“Hello, hello.” Aisha grinned back, accepting the long piece of tech from him, comically rotating it in her hands observing the porous black material that had been painted with a flaring red to create the F1 logo.
“So, you’re finally here! The big leagues, and yesterday’s qualifying must’ve been very exciting.  We’ve all been so blown away with Porsche’s car, and your performance. P5 ! Amazing. Walk us through what you’re feeling right now?”
“I mean, it’s a confidence booster of course, qualifying top 5- but I think that along with that it’s proving to myself and other little girls like me that it isn’t about who you are, but what you can do, regardless of gender or background.” Aisha nods once, leaning her elbow against the railing to crane her neck around and take in the track that lay ahead of the speedily moving vehicle.
“It’s great that you can showcase your talent and inspire young minds, but with that said- there’s obviously a pressure that comes with entering such a male-dominated sport.”
Aisha stilled slightly, her eyes wide and unblinking for a beat, “I mean, there’s always going to be extra expectation on you when you’re breaking barriers. The way I see it, this is an opportunity to pave the way for future generation, so really, its fuels my success and goes to show that gender or race, doesn’t correlate to your ability on track.”
“Well said, and while we’re on the topic of your determination, whilst being in the spotlight almost 24/7 and the battles on track, how do you maintain focus? It must be overwhelming.”
Aisha chuckled, turning to look at the other drivers, a few of them had tuned into her interview not-so-subtle whilst others were still deep in conversation, “I mean, when you’re battling against jumbo sized toddlers, and then being put under the loving spotlight of the media, I agree, it can be pretty overwhelming sometimes. But then I remind myself, why am I here? What am I here to do? And at the end of the day, it’s just me, the car, and the track, so I really don’t mind it too much.”
She shrugged at the end of her sentence, flipping her hair over her shoulder before unzipping the thick race suit. Revealing her tight, fireproofs beneath, the Indian flag sat proudly on her shoulder whilst her team logo lay sprawled across her chest along with the sponsor logos littered across the rest of her front.
“You make it seem so easy Aisha,” Lawrence laughed, oblivious to the tension that had gathered in the young woman’s shoulders and the tightness of her eyes that had increased tenfold throughout their conversation, “Last question before I let you go, to all of  your young fans gathered here today-“ he pointed up to the bleachers that came into view on the straight that the truck was approaching, where multiple younger children stood, jumping in their spots as their Porsche hats bobbled on their heads, “-what would you tell them? Especially those who are most likely facing challenges in their racing journey?”
Aisha smiled serenely, imagining herself in the seats that sat so far away from her, what her younger self would long to hear to make her racing career just a little bit easier, “To all the younger dreamers, never let anyone else tell you your limits. They may say to stop, but you need to believe that you can keep going. Chase your passions relentlessly because if you do, then the only barriers will be the ones we allow ourselves to see. Keep fighting, because one day, you’ll see that you’re right where you need to be.”
“Wow” He sighed, hand on his heart, “That inspired me.” Lawrence laughed heartily, “Finally, maybe just a few words in your native language, now from what I know you spent at least 3 years living in India? For your education?” He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her response.
Aisha nodded happily, “Yes, I did! so you want a message in Hindi? There are so many languages in my country, but sadly I’m only fluent in Hindi, despite being Gujarati myself.”
“That would be great, please do.”
“Sabse pehle, main apne sabhi fans ko bahut saara pyaar dena chahti hoon. Aap log mere liye inspiration ho, aur main hamesha aapke saath hoon. Aap sabka support mere liye bahut important hai, aur thank you kehna chahti hoon.”
[First of all, I want to give a lot of love to all my fans. You are an inspiration for me, and I am always with you. All your support is very important for me, and I would like to say thank you.]
“Amazing, thank you so much Aisha,” Lawrence gently took the microphone away from her and offered a grateful smile before looking towards Fernando who had made his way towards the pair.
“No problem,” Aisha stepped away, patting the eldest driver’s back once before turning away and making her way towards Lando, who had already been looking towards her, waiting for her to approach him, along with Oscar and Logan who were engrossed in conversation.
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The scene fades away from the three seasoned drivers and in the blackness another title appears, “RACE DAY” and following this the Porsche garage is finally revealed for the first time, much like the other teams the hard acrylic surfaces were decorated with the team colours and many engineers, technicians and workers were rushing around whilst other’s begaan to detach the hydraulic tubes from the cars in preparation for the first race of the season.
Before the first car revved up with anticipation, the halo was shown displaying the driver number and surname, “GASLY 10” and with that, the tubes were removed and the driver’s engineer pulled away, removing the iPad from Pierre’s gloved hands, allowing him to speed off towards his starting position.
The camera pans over to the second car that is yet to exit the garage, the driver within seemed to be hurriedly re-reading the car statistics, consuming that data over and over again, the scene rotates from the back of the car towards the front, where from beyond the middle column of the halo we get a glimpse of the large helmet following her heads sporadic movements, the Indian and British flag printed onto the front side of her head gear, peeped in and out of view as she handed away the tablet and she pulled on her gloves that lay waiting on the chassis in front of her.
With a confident thumbs up, she followed one of the Porsche employee’s guiding movements towards the other racers who sat in their cars, waiting for the start. Maintaining an even pace, she passed by the other cars, the exposed carbon fibre of Esteban’s Alpine in P10 and bright orange of Oscar’s McLaren in P7. She found her box waiting for her car as she pulled in and slowly removed her foot from the acceleration as she joined the grid in waiting for the formation lap.
The music faded away, to allow Aisha’s monologue to play over the still of the onboard camera, “This is it, I thought to myself, all the years of hard work and sacrifices have led up to this moment. This isn’t like F3 or F2-“ the live replay of the sleek interior of her F1 car is replaced by exhilarating moments of on track battles from her previous racing leagues, “- this is F1, where dreams are trampled on and shattered if you can’t keep up.” Her voice trembles slightly as we hear her take a deep breath in and the cars are overtaken with a new scene.
We see Aisha, in the same deep red sultry pantsuit, her side profile contrasted in the shadows as her chest rises and falls, “I remember the moment exactly, I told myself ‘Aisha, soak it in, the cheers and the feeling of other’s dreams, their expectations, cause it can make or break you.” She laughs incredulously at herself, “dramatic I know.”
“But it was electrifying, the whole thing, the thrum of the engines, the anticipation. I have never felt anything like it. But it’s everything I’ve trained for and everything I’ve wanted since I was little and racing go-karts.” Snippets of the raging, overwhelming sound of spluttering go-karts overtake the screen as one after another, we see young Aisha, drowning in an oversized sponsored uniform cut through the chequered ribbon.
“To the other drivers on the grid, it’s just the first race of the season, but for me, it’s my debut, it’s the first and only chance to prove that I’m meant to be here.” Aisha claps her hands, and the bursting flashes of her karting days cease, and we’re brought back to her, sitting in the tall stool, legs crossed over elegantly as she waves her heel back and forth, “The countdown began, and it’s lights out and away we go.”
The red lights above the Bahrain track fade away one by one, Crofty’s voice is matched with hers, and just as the sound of the engines crescendo, the scene ends.
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“Right Lando- “
The young British man makes his way into the stool, wobbling slightly as he flails his hands before rocking back to stability. He lets out a relieved breath and crosses his arms over his chest, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with the golden, volt bracelet on his wrist the Luis Vuitton logo glinting in the light from his absent-minded movements.
“Hi, yes, I’m here.” Lando looked up at the interviewer, his eyes bouncing between the 3-4 different camera’s capturing him from odd angles, “Which-“he pointed at one of them, “-which one am I looking at?”
The interviewer laughed before leaning forward and tapping the lens of the middle-most camera, “This one.”
Lando breathed out, “great” before adjusting the pillowing fabric of his hoodie and stared straight into the glass barrel in front of him, “I’m Lando Norris, and I race for McLaren Formula one team.”
“We ehm we didn’t need that. It- it’s different from Drive to Survive,”
Lando cringed and rubbed the back of his head, causing the bracelet to ride up beneath the sleeve of his hoodie, “My bad- “
“Don’t worry about it, Now-“The sound of cue cards being shuffled could be heard, “Onto the first question, we’ve heard rumours about you and Aisha, especially during your karting days, care to elaborate?”
Lando sucks air through his teeth as he smirks, “Me and Aisha…” He looks down to his hands, fingers finding purchase on the angled charm of his bracelet, “We go way back, I mean, it was either me or her who were winning the races, she was,” He sighs heavily, his eyes starry as he looks back up to the camera, “She was, no, she is everything.”
“Can’t help but notice the bracelet that you have on, anything significant?”
“It’s symbolic, I guess?but nothing too big.” He shrugs it off, hiding away the jewellery from prying eyes.
The interviewer presses their lips together, humming whilst shuffling the cards once again, “Right, of course, but some fans have already started to notice that you and she are…close.”
“Close? We’ve always been close, it’s like electric with her, it’s hard not to be attached to her talent.” Lando smirks playfully, winking at the camera, “Karting with her was so intense, we pushed each other to the limit, and I will always hold her and those memories close to my heart.”
“Seems like obsession,” They laugh.
“Oh, it most definitely is, I mean, have you seen her?” Lando flourishes dramatically with his hands, as though the woman was sitting right next to him.
We are brought back to the first driver’s briefing of the season, mere days before the Bahrain Grand Prix, Aisha had just sat down next to Pierre and began to chat amicably with her new teammate, bouts of laughter erupting from the pair momentarily.
The camera pans from the bonding partners to Lando, still hiding his head between his palms in embarrassment, though from between his ringed fingers we see his emerald irises peeking through the gaps, staring thoughtfully at the enrapturing driver who was currently fiddling with the van clef, indigo bracelets that shimmered around her wrist.
Oscar, who was also curiously watching the woman jogged Lando, snapping the man out of his trance, “Mate- you’re drooling,” He poked his teammate’s cheek.
Lando slapped away the finger that prodded his face, “I am not.”
“Whatever you say,” Oscar hummed, turning his attention back to the administrator who was flipping through a few data filled papers, bringing their mouth closer to the bendable microphone. Oscar leaned into Lando, bumping their shoulders together, “Just be careful.”
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Aisha breathed out a sigh, capping the black, matte Bulgari pen, slipping it into the awkwardly small purse that hung from her shoulder. She slammed the driver’s door of her car, having just finished a load of signing and smiling with fans, her main objective was to get through the security scanners peacefully.
“Hey stranger,” A voice came up behind her, tapping her arm.
“Lando,” Aisha tried to contain the quiver in her voice, “I thought you already got in.” She adjusted the neckline of her top, the tight sleeves hugged her shoulders and left her skin exposed to the warm sun.
“I did, I just needed something from my car and then I saw you,” He grinned at her, tapping his key card against the scanner, walking seamlessly through the rotating barrier, “You look like you’re about to walk a runway.”
Aisha laughed, tucking a straightened lock of hair behind her ear, “Thanks, you look…” Aisha assessed his outfit, a pair of light blue baggy, Levi’s and one of his own merch hoodies, “normal.” She cringed at her unnecessary honesty.
Yet, Lando just laughed and nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah- compared to you.”
Aisha continued to walk through the paddock, the British driver at her side whilst she waved to those personnel that passed by. She looked down at her own clothes, a neat, navy, off-the shoulder top that hugged her chest in all the right places was tucked into a grey mini-skirt, compliments of one of the many brand ambassadors of her team, the item was paired with a thin brown, gold buckled belt along with knee-high go-go boots.
“You could say that” She conceded, adjusting the golden Porsche chain that clung to her neck, “I was wondering…”
“Yeah?” Lando pocketed his hands.
“I you wanted to get dinner. For old times’ sake?” Aisha leaned forward on one foot, tilting her head hopefully before coming to a stop and waiting for his response.
Lando beamed widely, his eyes sparkling, “Definitely, I would be an absolute idiot to turn you down.”
Aisha blushed and looked down at the bracelets on her wrist, multiple layered golden chains which reflected light against her face in the most euphoric way, “Great, I’ll ju-“
“AISHA, oh my god it’s really her, AISHA!”
A shrill, young voice erupted from behind the pair, and a group of 3-4 young girls came running up to the pair. Aisha laughed to herself, plucking out the pen once more.
“Hello,” Aisha greeted the pre-teens who surrounded her, two of them dressed in a signature papaya orange whilst the other two sported metallic, silver Porsche merch, “You guys look so good!”
She accepted the hats and odd poster that the girls shyly handed her, “We’re so excited to see you race! You’re the only one who looks like us.” One of them spoke, her copper toned, youthful cheeks bobbed up with her smile as her long, black ponytail weaved with her excited movements.
“That’s so sweet, I think I might just win the race for you.” Aisha opened her arm for the girl to step into as they took a photo.
“Ehm, Lando, could we get an autograph as well,” Another one asked, already unfurling a second poster along with presenting the enraptured male with a sharpie.
“Absolutely! How could I resist?” Lando accepted the pen and began to sign the poster along with some newly presented items that the other two girls had produced.
“Thank you, guys, so much!” Aisha waved off the girls and turned back to Lando, already handing over her phone for him to enter in his number.
The young fans were squealing on their way back to their parents, who were just as excited for their young daughter’s interaction, “Did you guys see the bracelet?”
“What bracelet?” Another one asked, carefully rolling up her poster and handing it to her father, who tucked it under his arm and offered his hand for her to take.
“Lando’s, the one he wore for the whole of last season…” She adjusted her cap, looking confusedly at her three friends.
“Oh…I didn’t.”
“Neither did I.”
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The screen faded away from Lando, sitting with his teammate whilst gawking at Aisha and we’re brought back to the present, the on-board camera of the Porsche is aimed at the lights that have just gone dark and all at once, a symphony of rubber against concrete fills the scene.
Aisha navigated turn one with ease, emerging from the throng of cars still in P5, her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she focussed every ounce within her body on the track ahead. The bright spotlights above her cast a blinding hue over the grandstands, illuminating the eager fans from around the world, their flags waved in their air as they watched with anticipation when she approached Lewis from behind, pressuring the world champion ahead as they weaved into the next turn.
Aisha aimed for the apex, seeing the slightest gap for her to slip past, as she pointed the head of her car towards the opening, she held her breath and pressed on the throttle. Aisha lurched backwards as she could feel the crackles of her under-board hit the track with each increase in speed she made, yet she managed to dodge the Mercedes car and fly down the straight, maintaining her tyres as best as she could.
The radio thrummed to life in her ear as her race engineer, James, began to speak, “Great work with Lewis, already around 1.15 behind you. Take care of your tyres for now and defend.”
Aisha breathed heavily as she continued to meet the corners and walls with barely an inch to save herself as a highly effective attempt to prevent more overtakes, “Got it.”
She continued her pace throughout the laps, the continuous build up over 20 rounds had inched her closer and closer to Carlos who was struggling in P3, his braking getting worse and worse with each sharp turn.
“James- how much closer do I need to overtake?” Aisha gritted out, flitting her eyes to the large, white metallic DRS sign that entered her limited field of vision.
“Only a bit more Aisha, it’s time to push.”
Aisha stepped harshly onto the gas, her engine thrumming all around her as she charged closer to the bright red Ferrari ahead. She could see the rubber of the tyres in front burn and smoke with every swerve. The roar of her engine filled her ears, drowning out the noise of her own heartbeat as she braced herself for the challenge, “Here we go,” she murmured, voice firm and steely with determination.
She surged her car forward, pushing her machine to the limit as she matched Carlos’ pace with precision and determination, the desert heat bore down in mirage-like waves as the two drivers danced on the razor’s edge of competition. One by one measly lap, the distance shortened until they were wheel to wheel, and all Aisha could do was grit her teeth until she could taste the tangy calcium as she continued the precipice of a wipe-out, the promise of a podium too good to lose.
Aisha’s heart pounded with exhilaration as they hurtled down the straight once again, soon enough the pair were met with the sharpest corner yet, Aisha pushed further and Carlos relented, edging away meekly to allow her to slip by. The crowd’s cheers washed over her, a wave of euphoria crashing over her senses as her heart swelled with triumph.
“WOO! P3!”
“Amazing work Aisha, halfway there. Get some distance between you two.”
“I can take on Checo,” Aisha promised, her aggressive spirit burning deeply within her core as her eyes narrowed into the back of one of the red bulls.
“Go for it, but be careful, your tyres aren’t that good.” James warned her, his voice crisp with caution.
“I got this.”
Aisha revved up once her power had flashed a promising green on the screen in front of her, “It’s time to pounce.” She promised herself whilst flicking the DRS button with her thumb, letting the flap behind her quiver open, the force launched her forward like never before as the lap count leached into the 40’s, Checo hadn’t yet pitted, neither had she, and suddenly, it was a battle of the wills.
She tried all that she could, nudging her nose into the smallest of gaps and backing out when he had angled himself predatorially, grazing her front wing enough for her heart to jump into her throat, “What the fuck is he doing? Fucking cocksucker, he wants to kill me or what?” Aisha had to remind herself to lower her voice.
“It’s within regulation, keep pushing you’re approaching DRS again.” James assured her.
The car trembled beneath her, like a jaguar waiting to pounce again after one failure, she pressed again. This time she nipped Checo’s wheel, causing for him to quickly move out of the way, narrowly missing a spin-off and allowing Aisha to speed into P2.
“FUCK YES! HOLY SHI-“
Aisha’s celebration was cut short when a dangerous thrum approached her rapidly, she attempted with all her might to duck and weave into and out of his path, but Checo was relentless, continuously rubbing against her wheels and forcing her to utilise her power.
“Fuck, fuck what the actual shit?” Aisha screeched as she continued to sloppily defend, her anger bubbling up like hot water.
The red bull growled and pounced in front of her, clipping enough of her front wheel to send her spinning. Aisha shouted with malice, throwing up her hands as her wheels began to rotate rapidly, “BASTARD!”
Her vision blurred as the world around her continued to haphazardly shift, the fans above stilled with trepidation as they watched her strangle her wheel with both hands and wrangle the car back into position.
“Okay, so that’s P5- P5, Piastri, Sainz, Perez and Verstappen in front of you,”
“Copy.” Aisha grumbled darkly, manoeuvring the vehicle so that she could continue to viciously speed down the final lap, murderously defending her position as her stomach finally settled and head stopped pounding with adrenaline.
The race ended with Crofty heartily congratulating her over the commentary,
“And Verstappen has won the Bahrain grand prix! with Checo in P2 and Sainz in the Ferrari in P3. Now the fans have spoken, and new-comer Aisha Patel has been voted driver of the day, rightfully so, securing a solid P5 finish after a challenging battle on the track. it's fantastic to see her scoring valuable points in her debut race. And let's not forget the incredible debut of the Porsche F1 Team! It's clear that they're a force to be reckoned with in the championship.”
A view of Max passing through the finish line is shown, sparks flew behind his car as he speeds through and turned into the parc ferme. Aisha is also shown, her eyes steely from within her helmet and as she stops her car she clambers out of the cockpit and rips of her headgear, a scowl evident on her usually cool face.
She pushes open the gate to the media pen, narrowly avoiding Max, who spared her a dark glance from over his shoulder before turning back to the interviewer.
“Yeah, people make stupid decisions sometimes,” She heard him answer the unintelligible question. Aisha could already feel the anger burn her throat as she whipped her head around and met Max’s eyes, he stared back, an inferno raging within his blue iris’. She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by her Media manager, pulling her away gently, Aisha followed tearing her eyes away from the Dutchman. Yet, she could still feel his heated gaze on her.
Aisha scoffed passing by Carlos and Checo, who were conversing in fast Spanish, and headed towards the common media area, where eager and ravenous reporters began to clamber on top of one another as they caught sight of her sweaty face and stringy hair.
“Aisha! Aisha!”  They called, loud voices breaking through the microphone and blowing through the audio.
Aisha huffed and went towards the tell-tale white microphone, the sky sports logo sprawled all over the foam cover,
“Hi Aisha, congratulations on the P5 today,” Mark started, holding the microphone out for the visibly annoyed driver.
“Thank you,” She snipped, but blinked a few times before forcing herself to continue, “Y’know could’ve been a P2 finish for Porsche today, but I’m happy with both Pierre and I’s finish, at least we scored some valuable points.” Aisha robotically recounted her PR training.
“Definitely a tough break for you out there,” He nodded solemnly, “Care to walk us through what happened with Checo on lap 43?”
Aisha sucked in a breath, looking behind her where her PR person stood, arms crossed over her Porsche shirt as she shrugged, “Yeah, of course, it’s disappointing end to my race, P2 would probably be a dream, but Checo made a-“ Aisha bit her tongue momentarily, looking into the few dozen camera’s pointed at her, until she noticed Checo’s reflection walking behind her, heading to the cool-down room, “-a dickhead move absolutely dangerous, there was contact because he couldn’t use his eyes, and that caused me to spin out. It’s racing, I know, but you don’t see race winners or legends making moves like that.” Aisha hissed.
Mark stared at her, mouth agape before he recollected himself and forced a flabbergasted laugh, “Well, that’s one way to put it.” The other surrounding reporters were close to drooling at the mouth, their own mics pushed further through the gaps as they imagined the debaucherous headlines they could create from her outburst.
“How were you feeling during that moment?”
“Truthfully?” She tilted her head, “Pissed, but you probably didn’t you marky-moo, my radio probably told you that. But after I managed to regain my original position, I was more determined to just finish the race with a solid end.”
He laughed at that but stilled when Checo emerged once again from the cool-off room, “Checo!” Mark called, oblivious to the thunderous haze that overtook Aisha. She checked behind her shoulder, and her upper lip curled with malice,
“I’ll let Checo say his bit- “She murmured, “Excuse me.” And left the pen, heading towards the Porsche garage whilst avoiding eye-contact with Lucy, her fuming PR manager.
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“Hey! Checo!” Aisha called out, throwing down her headphones, leaving her race engineer in concerned confusion as she approached the red bull driver, amid his team, oblivious to the storm about to hit him.
“Oh, hey Aisha-“
“Do not, hey, me.” She snarled, “What the fuck was that on track? Were you trying to kill me back there? You could’ve overtaken me in so many other ways.” Aisha approached him, prompting Checo to take a simultaneous step back, hands raised.
“It’s racing Aisha, I had to make a split-second decision.”
“We all make decisions, Perez,” She snarled, hands balling up into fists, “You don’t see Charles or Carlos or anyone with half a brain doing what you did? You messed up my race!” Aisha’s voice begins to raise, drawing attention of the red bull personnel, since the pair had manged to slowly move up to the entrance of the garage, and prompting a few camera men, who were following around Lando and Oscar to pan over to her.
Aisha groans, smacking her palm against her head a few times as a display of aggression before turning back to a very sweaty, nervous driver, “Never mind my race- you had fucking so many other options, why? Why did you decide to clip my wheel? Is it because being overtaken by a woman was so embarrassing, for red bull’s number two, you couldn’t handle it?” Aisha mocks him, before starting to approach his frozen form, a violent fire burning in her eyes and spreading to her limbs, igniting them with her fury.
Just as there was merely a centimetre between the two, a pair of strong arms hooked themselves around her elbows, holding her hand away from Checo, who had started shouting about his “personal safety”.
“Are you fucking stupid?” A gruff voice whispers into her ear.
Aisha kicks out, a futile attempt to free herself, “Let me go,” She whips her head around, her hair flying,
“Can you stop? I will literally knock you out.” The voice continues, grunting when her foot narrowly misses his groin.
“Fine-“ She huffs, going limp as she shoots daggers into Checo’s retreating back being escorted by a flurry of blue clad workers, “Fine, let me go,” She mumbles.
The man drops her onto the floor instantly, allowing her to stumble over her feet. Aisha finds her footing once more and spins around to meet his eyes, “Max?”
Max stares down at her, his eyes squinted with annoyance, “Who else? You’re in front of the red bull garage.” He rolls his eyes and steps a large stride away from her.
Aisha blinks once. Twice. Before scoffing and crossing her arms, “Yeah. Thanks.” She snarks before walking away from him, leaving the dutchman standing, fuming in his spot. She manages to skip over the McLaren crowd but had attracted almost half a dozen cameras on her, the large intimidating lens’ were pushed into her face haphazardly, narrowly missing her face a few times.
Aisha had to hold herself back from stealing the cameras from their holders and smashing them onto the ground. She could feel a self-depreciating throb begin to build in her head, the memory of all the idyllic children watching her, and those who had felt represented by her made tears prick at her eyes. In that moment, with too many lens’ focussing on her quivering lip, she hoped that they wouldn’t catch the salty sadness that threatened to stream down her face
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The post-race interview scene fades away, and a familiar red bull jersey is announced into the scene, the dark blue merging pleasantly with the dark grey background. We’re introduced to Checo’s frame, a placid smile on his face.
“Hi checo,” The interviewer greets the driver, who nods in acknowledgement, “Well, Bahrain was an intense time for you, especially the on track accident with Aisha, would you care to talk us through the whole thing?”
Checo clears his throat briefly, “Yeah, uhm, it was a tight battle with her, and she was holding her ground y’know, but I saw an opportunity to make a move and I took it.” He shrugged once, reverting his gaze away from the camera, “And, as an unfortunate by product, she ended up spinning out, but it’s racing, these things happen.”
“I think everyone knows that she seemed quite upset about the incident, did you have a chance to speak with her afterwards?”
“uhm, people say things when they’re angry, and Aisha was frustrated but I’m here to win races, that’s what I’ve been hired to do. Once again, it was a choice that I had to make, and it’s hard to consider everyone’s emotions while I do it.”
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“Max, we recently interviewed Checo, and he had some…words to say about the situation in Bahrain, specifically with Aisha after the race. Now, we saw that you had intervened just in time, what was going on during that moment?”
Max shifted in his chair, slipping down slightly, and crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah, I could see that the situation was escalating, with Aisha getting increasingly angry, it would’ve ended pretty badly.”
“You sound so sure about that.”
“Trust me, I know anger when I see it, and I know that races can get heated especially when avoidable occurrences aren’t avoided, but I also think that emotional regulation is crucial to compete.” He distractedly runs a thumb over his bottom lip.
“Does this change your initial views on Aisha entering the sport? Since you were pretty, pessimistic.” The interviewer cringes just as the words escape their mouth.
“I wouldn’t say I was pessimistic,” He quickly rejects, “But I think she had something to prove, just like any of us, she isn’t exempt from it. And she, raced like any of us would’ve in the moment, so do I suddenly think of her as a saint? No, but do I think that she’s building up to something? Maybe.”
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“Aisha!” A voice calls from behind her, Aisha smiles at the fans who had offered her a notebook to sign, she watched them walk away before responding,
“Yeah?” She tucks away her pen into the silver, Porsche gym bag that hung from her shoulder.
Lando jogs up to her, tapping his card against the scanner before pushing through the gate and reaching her side, “Great race, you handled it...well…” He trailed off, unsure of how to spin off his compliment.
Aisha laughs at that, throwing her head back, ”It’s okay Lando, you don’t have to say anything” She tugs at the sleaves of her tight black jacket, the hugo boss label stretched over her chest as she pulled at the fabric, “I- I can get pretty mad,” Aisha shrugs, kicking an imaginary pebble with her shoe, rustling her oversized tracksuit bottoms, the three parallel lines on both her legs fluttered with the airy clothing.
“Yeah, that probably didn’t go down to well on camera,” He itches the back of his head, “I actually came to ask if you’re staying at the same hotel as the rest of us, Oscar took my car and I’m stranded.”
“Lando…” She sighs, adjusting the strap of her bag, “If you wanted to ride in my Porsche, you could’ve just said so.” Aisha gestured to her silvery 918 Spyder, the high-end sports car shimmered beneath the spotlights of the private car park.
Lando hissed through his teeth and grinned, “You caught me.” He held his hands up, “It’s the only way I can be photographed in the car without causing an uproar.”
Aisha tilted her head at him, “Oh, so nothing else is convincing you?”
“Hmmm, that, and maybe the very beautiful and scary woman who drives it?” Lando offered, holding out his hand for her to take.
She looked down at his open palm before searching the area around them, the rest of the grid had departed long before, leaving just her car and another in the parking. Aisha squinted her eyes at the remaining automobile, a Honda NSX, the only owner being none other than a certain grumpy blonde, who was more focussed on his back seat than on the couple who still stood in the middle of the concrete.
Accepting his hand, she revelled in the feeling of her fingers intertwined with his, soft skin against coarse knuckles, a warm aura enveloped her being as she guided them towards her car, pulling out the flat fob to click open the expensive machine.
Yet, as she watched Lando retreat into the passenger’s seat with an amazed, “oh damn.” and went to unlock the trunk to slip her duffel bag into, she felt an icy gaze glued to her back.
Aisha turned once behind her to where Max was sitting in his driver’s seat, eyes glued at first on Lando, an unrecognisable expression painted on his face before he slowly slid it up to her face, and his once oddly neutral gaze turned into an annoyed squint.
With that, the dutchman tore his eyes away from a now, slightly agitated Aisha, towards the open road and pulled out of the car park, speeding away to what she assumed would be the hotel.
“Hey,” Lando leaned over the dash, reaching for her hand that rested on the headrest of her seat, the other braced on her car door as she watched the retreating Honda, “You okay?”
Aisha jumped out of her disturbed haze, and back to where Lando was now rubbing his fingers over hers that had tensed enough to turn her milky brown skin into a pale white, “Yeah- I’m fine, just checking for reporters.”
“I’m that embarrassing?” He teased, watching her intently as she fastened her seatbelt and smiled at the sound of the purring super engine.
Aisha snorts, “No- not at all, just making sure that McLaren’s golden boy isn’t photographed inside a Porsche- with the grid’s certified crazy woman.” She pressed on the gas.
“Yeah, but…what if I want that?”
“What?” Aisha’s eyebrows knitted together; eyes still glued to the unfamiliar roads ahead as the GPS stopped squawking at her for a brief moment.
“I don’t care if you’re the crazy woman…You’re just, you. I don’t care about the rest.” Lando smiled lazily, his eyes studying her quickly flustered face.
“You’re a horrible flirt Norris.” She grumbled.
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everythingne · 3 months
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looking in a mirror - still waters (op81)
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Oscar and Daisy meet again ahead of the season, alone, before they’re accompanied by their trainers, and find common ground in the calm before the storm.
(series masterlist) fcs: // archie madekwe (rhys) / ruby campbell (y/n / daisy)
oscar piastri x reader series
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"I still can't believe he'd do that to me!" Sebastian's head perks up at your voice, followed by the slamming of his front door, the broken hinge he still needed to fix making slamming actually necessary for once. You had become a staple in the Vettel household in the past two weeks. Between breaking up with your long term boyfriend, starting your f1 career, and needing to move to Germany, it had been a lot.
And now he's staring down Mark Webber who calmly takes a sip of the coffee Hanna had made him with a tiny shrug. Sebastian hears you kick off your shoes, pause to greet Hanna in the foyer, and the three Vettel children who happily babble to you for long enough for your anger to dissipate as you make your way through the house to where you know Sebastian will be perched in the kitchen as per usual.
"She speaks like you during Red Bull." Mark hums into his coffee and Sebastian sends him a look that has the Australian holding up a hand in surrender with a soft laugh through the coffee in his mouth.
"Mark Webber?" You query in the doorway as the Australian snaps his head to you, giving a polite smile to your bewildered expression.
"What an honor to finally meet the second woman Sebastian doesn't shut up about," Mark reaches a hand out to gently shake the one you lift to him, Sebastian rolling his eyes.
"No no, honors all mine!" You smile, gently setting down the paper bag of groceries you'd been sent to get, "Sorry I'm a bit scatter brained at a moment, a lot has been happening."
"Ah, Oscar's the same--ow?!" Mark is cut off by Sebastian punching his shoulder, and your eyes narrowing at the man who had inadvertently raised you through sponsoring your karting since age nine.
"Daisy," Sebastian says in the voice that would make most people think you were in trouble as he crosses his arms and leans on the counter, "Mark's here for a meeting with me, about Porsche's strategy next year because... Porsche is making negotiations with McLaren."
You blink, "Oh..." You look at the obvious tension between the two retired drivers and slowly sink down into the seat you usually find yourself in, "...kay..."
"Sebastian, she's not five." Mark scowls, setting down his coffee, drawing your attention to how he's using one of the many mugs you'd bought Hanna, "Porsche and McLaren have made a deal to sort of... trade their drivers. They're trading Rhys for Oscar. You won't be racing on a team with your brother this season."
It doesn't take a keen eye to see the way your body tenses, hands tight around your phone as Sebastian realizes he should've asked if you were on a call. You hastily hang up with whoever you had been calling, setting your phone face down and leaning your elbows on the table. Hands tangled in your hair, messing up the time you had spent with the hot comb in the bathroom this morning.
When you let out a slow breath, Sebastian hates the way your voice strains as you ask, "Since when?"
"About..." Mark checks his watch, "Six hours ago? Oscar isn't even aware yet, I think he's still with his sisters for his Mom's birthday. Didn't wanna bother 'em."
"Why would Rhys do that?" You head snaps to Sebastian and he stammers, he detests the tears that line your eyes and threaten to fall. The tears that Mark takes that as his cue to go find something interesting in the hallway to stare at. He squeezes your forearm in reassurance as he passes behind you and out of the room, and as your head in buried in your hands you can hear the scratching squeal of a chair as it's pulled to your side. Sebastian settles his hand between your shoulder blades with a soft, soothing rub, watching as you cry, and try to force yourself to stop, just to cry again. It had been a tough few weeks, and he knows this isn't the easiest thing for you to hear.
"McLaren gave Rhys money Porsche didn't want to give him. Porsche gave Oscar money McLaren wasn't going to give him. It was an easy natural trade." Sebastian tries to simplify it. He doesn't want to get into how in the past two seasons, even though Oscar was performing amazingly for how young he was in the sport, McLaren was neglecting him in favor of Lando. And McLaren, unlike how they had done it with Danny, were good at making it all seem well. Oscar didn't complain, he was already quiet, and it took Mark intercepting and getting in a blow out argument with Zak for Oscar to even notice the blatant favoritism. McLaren wanted Rhys purely because Porsche wanted Oscar, and Rhys was enchanted by the money before he even thought about leaving you behind. But he doesn't bring that up. He can't bring it up even when he tries because the lump that forms in his throat is impossible to speak around.
He especially doesn't bring up how Mark was the one to ask about Oscar in Porsche, he doesn't want to damage anything before you'd even started.
"Rhys left me for money, then." You mumble into your hand, looking up through your lashes at Sebastian who just rubs your shoulder and pulls you to slot under his chin and between his arms like usual.
"He didn't want to leave you. I'm sure." Sebastian is sure that Rhys did. Rhys knew you were a better driver than him, had told Sebastian such during the argument before he'd signed off to McLaren, and he felt like he could get more of a spotlight in McLaren then under you. He holds you for a little bit longer, until Hanna comes in to sit with you, and he can slip off to the hall where Mark leans against the wall on his phone.
"Oscar's not taking it well either." Mark shoves his phone in Sebastian's face, showing the constant stream of confused messages from the now Porsche pilot, how he wasn't even aware the change was finalized.
"I think it will all flatten out once they meet." Sebastian tries to sound optimistic, but Mark's soft head tilt tells him that he just missed the head of the nail on that.
"We'll see." Mark hums, before lifting his phone to his ear and greeting Oscar on the other line.
--
Mannheim is gorgeous, at least you have that going for you. Porsche's new extension of the motorsports center is nicely furnished and you've been settled on one of the various soft chairs facing one of the large bay windows for a while now--soaking in the warm sun.
The footsteps behind you make you crack open your eyes and peer over your shoulder as Oscar slowly approaches, laughing to himself softly when he sees you looking.
"Thought you were sleeping." He says idly, sitting in a chair next to yours and you hum, stretching like a cat just woken from a nice sunbath nap.
"Wish I was, the sun feels amazing." You reply softly, glancing over at the Australian, eyes tracing the freckles that are now more prominent from his extended time in the sun. You and Oscar were never super close, just mutual friends through Logan, both of you sort of the introverted companions to your loud-mouthed American friend. Oscar doesn't say anything in response, just looks down and picks at the skin by his nails, so you continue.
"Bet the sun feels better in Australia."
"Feels worse," Oscar replies, "gives you a burn before you can even get sun tan on you, and burns your retinas before you can get sunnies on."
"But the glow I would have would be unstoppable." You chime, earning a soft chuckle.
"Yeah, probably. Your glow now isn't too bad though."
Back a few years ago, any compliment from Oscar would make you blush--and make Logan receive probably thirty spam texts of mush. You'd had a crush on the Aussie in your teens, between racing and hanging out with him and Logan, his charm was top notch. But, what you had failed to realize was that he was not interested in dating until Logan had to softly break the news to you.
You had successfully swallows your pride after a good two pints with Rhys and Logan in a back corner of some shitty Austin bar, and a pint or two of ice cream when you'd gotten home, and started dating your (now) ex-boyfriend, Andre Boucher, a week or so after that season had ended.
Six years ago.
You crossed one leg over the other, looking over at the man who'd been holding your heart for years, and found your mind made you rational. Luckily.
"Sorry for being a bit of a blow-in on your season with Porsche." Oscar says when he notices you've been trying to find words to say, ever observant as he pressed on, "I know you really wanted to have your maiden season be with Rhys, but he was like... off his head when they were telling him about all the money they'd give 'em. I felt bad but Mark kinda made the decision it would be best for both of us to swap. I just hope they treat him better than they were treatin' me."
You're quiet for a long while, trying to still the insult brewing in the back of your throat in defense of Rhys but honestly, you hadn't even spoke to Rhys about it yet. Letting out a soft sigh that turns into a whistle, you rub at the irritation headache forming across your temple.
"Feel free to tell me to piss off whenever." Oscar hums and you shake your head.
"It's not you. Trust me, it's not." You grumble, leaning forward, "Rhys has always been chasing the money and the limelight since we were kids. I know he loves his work here but sometimes I wonder how much is a love for racing and how much is a love for money--not to just... dump all of this on you."
"I know what you mean. Sometimes that money just gets to your head. Give Rhys time, I reckon he'll come back 'round." Oscar nods to you, then looks down at his watch to some text that pops up on the screen and he huffs.
"Mark pushed back the meeting two hours, wanna go get lunch? Apparently theres a really good ramen place just down the road. A lot of the interns have carry out from there." Oscar stands and you smile, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder.
"Sounds perfect to me."
-
oscarpiastri made a new post!
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liked by a.boucher, rhyspearce, m.webber, and 359k others...
oscarpiastri: one week out from the season... woah. heres what mark and seb see vs what they dont (us eating out half the time instead of following the meal plans we have been told we NEED to follow)
tagged: msdaisypearce
sebvettel: im gonna kill both of you
⤷ msdaisypearce: seb no pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls !!!!!
m.webber: I honestly don't know what I expected from you two.
landonorris: we never had teammate dinners........ </3
⤷ oscarpiastri: stop being a little bitch in my comments
user1: stop they get lunch together let me CRY
user2: daiscar supporter since 2018 wheres my damn medal!!!
rhyspearce: gl not having her steal ur kitchen ever five minutes
⤷ oscarpiastri: unfortunately ur sister is too good of a cook to ignore
⤷ msdaisypearce: aweeeeeeee staph itttt
user3: daiscar nation RISEEE
logansargeant: get a room
⤷ oscarpiastri: L
user4: so like. are they dating.
⤷ user5: bro pls they've been on a team together for like two months and have been friends for YEARSSSS.
142 notes · View notes
dreamauri · 11 months
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♪ — 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗜𝗖 𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗗 - part six max verstappen x girlfriend! driver! reader (angst + fluff, minor smut) “. . . Where have you been?”
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( previous | first )
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"Oh my lord Max." You laughed watching your boyfriend jump in the pool. He was most definitely drunk, because he was fully clothed. The reason why he was in the pool was because literally. "You're so hot, hotter than the sun." "But you're hugging the sun, aren't you going to catch fire?" "Oh shit! I'm on fire!" Splash!
You laughed looking at the boy who was treading at the edge with his eyes looking at you with the most loving gaze. You were quick to get on your knees and try to reach for the blond. Alcohol does not mix with water. "Maxie, take my hand." "No, I don't wanna be on fire."
He swam ( more like paddling like a puppy ) away from you. You were getting a good laugh out of this, setting your wine glass down and getting a spare towel. "Maxie stop running away." "I want to live." He replied as he escaped you once more.
You slipped into the pool swimming after him, finally catching him and pulling him out. "Noooo." Max whined as you wrapped the towel around him. "My sun went out." He sighed looking at you, leaning into your embrace. You laughed rubbing his shoulder to comfort him as you pressed small kisses on his lips.
"I'm fine, Maxie." You chuckled looking into his blue eyes that looked at you with worry, leaning your forehead against his. He smiled gently pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'll always be there for you, Maxie."
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Look at that dribble." Carlos laughed as he watched you get past Daniel and Max like a pro, shooting towards the goal but ultimately missing. The three boys laughed as you looked disappointed at the empty goal. "How do you miss that?" Daniel asked wheezing on the floor.
You frowned at him, giving Carlos ( your team mate who was making fun of you ) a dirty glare. Next was Max, who was standing straight like a pencil, doing his best to hold his laugh in. "You look like shit." You scoffed at him, folding g your arms and looking away embaressed. Your insult only made all the boys die even more.
Max lost his composure falling to the floor, laughing as he pleased. Your gaze softened for a moment, you never heard him laugh this much before.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Did you know? The fans behind you, they're Y/N's fans." "I've been told, yeah." Max looked back, looking at the crowd cheering for him. A warm smile covered his face as he turned back to the interviewer. "And how does that make you feel?" "It's uh, definitely a good thing. Makes me feel like she's here with me." Max nodded looking back at the crowd singing in your native language.
When max walked back to his garage he looked at his new car for this season. Although not much has changed with the paint job and the sponsors, your racing number was on the nose of his car ( something he begged your father to have ) even though he could have the number 1 now that he won the World champion title after you left.
The pre season testing had been completed and Max can finally go home. Passing through the fan zone, Max met his and your fans alike. He took pictures and signed autographs, as well as received gifts.
Upon entering his empty apartment, the blond took refuge on the couch. The spot where he had turned into his bed, even though there was a one in perfectly good condition in the bedroom next door ( which has not been touched since you received your world champion title ).
It's been like this for two years now, Max liked to pretend you were too lazy to get out of bed, napping or eating while watching Kimi's races. But deep down, he knew you weren't. With a deep sigh he pulled the extra bag he had to buy to fit all the gifts he received.
Most of the gifts were for him, minus the few pink themed ones for you which was a result of your obsession with your pink coloured Porsche sitting in the garage. The pink stuff was set on one side for you and the blue or orange on another side for him.
Max received shirts, bracelets, letters, a lot of things really. What caught his eyes the most was a flip book, a work of art containing water paintings of moments you shared with Max across your journey though f1.
When he flipped to the last page his eyes where met with a printed QR code. This could be either a bad or a good thing, and before he got the chance to find out his phone rang. "Hey Verstappen." Your father's voice rang through the apartment.
"What's so important you had to call me in the middle of the night?" He sighed rubbing his face tired.
"You might want to come down to the hospital." He replied sighing. "Hi, Max" he heard Daniel in the background. That's all Max needed to put on something appropriate and go down to the medical centre. When he finally found the two men through the ER, he was welcomed by a nice surprise.
"I think I stubbed my toe." Daniel joked looking down at his broken foot. "What did you do?!" Max was panicking, the season had barley started and Daniel ( who was finally in a RB seat ) was out.
"Someone slammed the door on his foot." Your father explained sighing in annoyance. Max never liked your dad, since he was a kid. He was always so mean and cruel. And although he tried to fix things recently, whether by comforting Max or you, he still had this dark and intimidating aura.
A former world champion and the father of one, sitting on a stool, eating mac and cheese. Very scary. Daniel laughed seeing Max looking at your dad amused. "Who gave the old man food?" Your father rolled his eyes as he continued to eat.
"It should be an easy recovery, a month or two." Max sat on a spare chair listening to Daniel explain the injury in medical terms he didn't understand. And soon, after Christian Horner was informed of the inchident, Max was able to return to his apartment, laying on the couch facing the racing sims on the other side of the room.
"Maxie, you hungry?" "I'm good, Mijn liefje. Thank you." [my love] He looked up at you, a soft smile spread on his face. Although he should've been concentrating on the online race in front of him, you had his attention wherever he went.
You chuckled gently putting the pair of glasses you found on the boy. "Since you're not hungry, I guess I get the beautiful tomato soup in the kitchen all to myself~" You teased kissing his cheek. "Hey! No fair! I want some." "Then you'll have to hurr-" ring! ring!
"Kan ik geen moment van rust hebben?!" [can i not get a moment of peace] Max shouted over the phone agitated. Who was interrupting him this late?! What he heard next made him feel like a maniac. He was back in the hospital, jogging ( he was told he wasn't allowed to run ) through the halls and up the stairs.
Once he reached room 717, he came to an abrupt stop. A deep breath escaped his lips as he opened the door. "Your late."
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"I'm hooked on a feeling. I'm high on believing. That you're in love with meeee. I'm hooked on a feeling!" Max sang through his radio as he completed his cool down lap. Once he jumped out of the car, he was greeted with cheers from the fans and his team. But most importantly, your smile.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"There's nothing for miles." "You don't say. We've been walking here forever." You groaned arms dangling down. You were sitting on Max's shoulders, dangling down upside down out of boredom.
The beach was stretching out for miles on end, the waves crashing into each other was the only noise you could hear.
"You think the kids are fine?" He asked worriedly, stopping for a second and looking back. "Yes, Maxie. Have a little faith in them." "I do have faith, I'm just-" "I'm scared too. But you know, I've got you, so I'm less scared." You assured, patting his thigh.
"Ps. Why's your ass so big?" "It is not." Max defended swinging you sideways. You could only laugh, smacking him over his swim trucks before wriggling out of his hold and running away. Max was quick to follow you, running after you. "Come back here!"
"Run run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the- AAAH." "Gotcha!" Max wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you. You were laughing loudly, relaxing in his arms as he pressed kisses on your cheek.
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429 notes · View notes
guzhufuren · 2 months
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Thailand 🇹🇭 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows
Full list here.
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1. KinnPorsche mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple
Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.
iQIYI
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2. Bed Friend friends with benefits; office setting; trauma
King and Uea work in the same office. After a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up between them, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?
Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube
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3. The Sign reincarnated lovers; fantasy; thai mythology; police
The story of the love between Phaya and Tharn who used to be mythological creatures Naga and Garuda in their past lives, and were forced apart. But fate intervened, and two men were reincarnated in new bodies. Now, they work together as partners in the Special Investigations Unit to uncover violent crimes and supernatural mysteries while their love is tested by mystical forces and past enemies.
YouTube
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4. I Feel You Linger In The Air period drama; time travel; bittersweet
Jom, an architect overseeing the renovation of a rundown villa, continuously dreams of a man he's never met. When a twist of fate transports Jom to Chiang Mai in the 1920s, he assumes the role of a servant to the affluent young master Yai, the mysterious man from his dreams.
GagaOOLala or YouTube
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5. You're My Sky sports; university setting; coming of age
Thorn, a young basketball player follows his senior Fah to university as a result of the promise they’d made — to become national basketball champions. However, to his dismay, he finds that Fah has already given up on basketball. --- Aai has to work in pairs throughout the semester with San, 1 year footballer; in order to receive a scholarship to study in Japan, Ai must be willing to do everything to get an A grade. --- Track running requires the compatibility of the team members to be very high. Vee, who became the new racquet 4, has to speed up training to fit in with the team as quickly as possible, especially with Dome, spending extra time together to train. Is love actually a major obstacle on the path of being an athlete?
Viki
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6. Cutie Pie (+Cutie Pie 2 You, Naughty Babe) arranged marriage; secret identity; crack
The sons of two companies, Lian and Kuea, have been engaged to each other since childhood. One decides he doesn't want the arranged marriage anymore while the other decides to win him back.
Cutie Pie: YouTube & Cutie Pie 2 You: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on YouTube & NB: uncut on IQIYI or cut on YouTube
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7. Until We Meet Again reincarnated lovers; forbidden love;university setting
Two boys who couldn't be together in one life find each other again in another.
+ Between Us university setting; swimming club; trauma
A parallel story to Until We Meet Again. Win and Team get to know one another through the swimming club, and eventually develop a relationship. They grow their connection as Win helps Team deal with his childhood trauma.
UWMA: YouTube & Between Us: Special: YouTube & Between Us: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or paid YouTube or cut on YouTube
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8. Step By Step office setting; boss/employee; slowburn
Jeng is a marketing manager and son of the owner of the company. Pat is a new team member. Jeng develops a secret fondness for his new subordinate, but in this position, he has to be strict and picky with Pat.
Uncut 18+ on Viki or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube
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9. GAP The Series wlw; office setting; boss/employee; class difference
Long after Sam first came to Mon's rescue when they were kids, Sam is unambiguously Mon's idol. In order to be near Sam, Mon gets a job working under her. When they finally meet again at the office, Mon is surprised by Sam’s icy exterior, so different from the image she'd had of her. Mon and Sam aren't just different in demeanour; they stand apart in class and age.
YouTube
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10. Lucky My Love wlw; office setting
In the pursuit of love, Nabdao has been doing everything. She has got her fortune read. She's gone on a string of blind dates. Unfortunately, no one seems to be on the same page as her. She starts to think that perhaps her gorgeous and caring boss Pheem could be the one for her. Then Vela, her new team leader, comes into the picture and shakes things up with her observant and affectionate care.
YouTube
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11. La Pluie soulmate alternative universe
In an alternate universe where Thailand is perpetually rainy and soulmates exist, La Pluie traces the story of Saengtai, who suffers from sensorineural hearing loss every time it rains. The only voice he can hear then is that of his soulmate, but he is adamant about not giving said soulmate a chance due to having seen his parents’ (who are also soulmates) relationship deteriorate.
YouTube or iQIYI
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12. I Told Sunset About You (+ Last Twilight in Phuket, I Promised You the Moon) coming of age; childhood friends to lovers; high school setting
Two childhood best friends-turned-rivals meet again, awakening an old rivalry and old feelings. They now have to navigate their lives together and the growing attraction toward each other.
Viki (ITSAY) & YouTube (LTIP) & Viki (IPYTM)
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13. Ghost Host, Ghost House crush at first sight; ghosts; grief
Kevin's passion is the challenge of hunting ghosts. He returns to Thailand after 10 years to stay with his aunt's family, but he didn't know that he'd come to stay under the same roof as those hunted ghosts. There he meets Pluem, a young gardener working for his family and a spark ignites between them.
YouTube or GagaOOLala
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14. Something In My Room ghost/human; mystery; bittersweet
Looking to start a new life in a new house with his mother, Phat feels something uncanny in his room, which turns out to be the ghost of Phob. Phob wants Phat’s help in solving the mystery of his death before it’s too late.
I recommend watching the extended uncut version on KissKH or Dramacool, but you can also watch cut version on YouTube
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15. Manner of Death crime; mystery; dark
A forensic pathologist Bunn is threatened to identify a manner of one victim's death as suicide — something that is not true according to the autopsy performed. The prime suspect seems to be a man named Tan who denies all involvement. They team up together to find the real murderer.
WeTV
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16. Triage time loop; hospital setting; crime; mystery
As a resident in the emergency room, one should be indifferent when not saving a patient's life. But Tin got the chance to reverse a random patient's death for the second, third, and countless times. To help Tol and save his life.
AIS PLAY
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17.  Love Mechanics cheating; university setting
A love story that starts one night in a club — between Mark, who is drunk and carrying the painful burden of his one-sided love, and the boy who he bumps into and mistakes as the object of his affection. They spend a night together and gradually Mark falls for Vee, although he knows Vee has a girlfriend. Will the love between them make it?
WeTV
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18. Wedding Plan wedding planner/groom; lavender marriage; wlw side couple
Nuea is a professional wedding planner. Sailom happens to be the perfect man for Nuea based on his visual considerations for a man. But the universe has an unimaginable sense of humor as Sailom and his fiance Yiwa turn out to be Nuea's new clients.
Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on Youtube & iQIYI (special episode)
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19. Laws of Attraction lawyers; crime
When working-class man Tinn's niece fails to receive justice for her untimely death, he encounters Charn, a cynical morally corrupt lawyer. As Tinn and Charn team up to delve deeper into the case, they form a close bond despite their ideological differences. The series explores Charn and Tinn’s fight for justice, even though they were on opposite sides of the fence at the beginning.
YouTube
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20. Secret Crush On You “nerd”/popular guy; queer friend group; university setting
Discover the secret of a nerdy young man, Toh, who fell in love with a popular third-year senior. Because his dream is so far from reach, observing is the only thing he could do. But what happens when one auspicious day the world devises an opportunity for Toh to make himself known to his crush Nuea?
YouTube
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21. To Sir, With Love period drama; family drama; rich man/lower class man
A powerful family suffering from internal power struggles is now facing an even greater secret threat, the oldest son and heir is gay.
YouTube
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22. My Only 12% best friends to lovers; slow burn
Cake and Seeiw, next-door neighbors and childhood best friends, navigate their feelings towards each other as they grow up.
YouTube
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23. Show Me Love wlw; beauty pageants
Meena moves to Bangkok to achieve her singing dreams. She chances across Cherine who asks Meena to join her in a beauty pageant. The girls' journey for the crown begins and a romance between them sparks.
YouTube
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24. Pit Babe omegaverse; alpha/alpha; car racing
Babe is the number one race car driver and an alpha with special abilities who only has sex with other alphas. Nerdy naive alpha Charlie approaches Babe to ask for his help to become a racer himself. Babe agrees to help Charlie realise his dream, but it will come with a price.
Uncut on iQIYI or cut on YouTube
---
You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to Thailand. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy!  🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️
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oneshotnewbie · 9 months
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Marina x daughter!reader gets hurt during a soccer game. She’s obsessed with the sport lives and breathes it. So when she gets injured it’s her ACL( care ending injury)
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ᕚ---ᕘ
A painful outcry, which went through the marrow and bones of Carina and Maya´s body and drove a shiver down their backs, caused the doctor and the firefighter to run onto the field after a brief shock. Their daughter had clashed with her opponent, been knocked off her feet and thrown a few centimeters through the air.
After that, you hit the ground and your loud scream echoed across the soccer field. It was completely silent, the whistle sounding a break while not a sound could be heard from the fans. All eyes were on you on the floor, a small team of doctors already squatting with you, while you were writhing on the floor, your face contorted in pain.
All your fellow players, even the opponents, had gathered in a small circle around you and the doctors while Carina and Maya had pushed themselves through the crowd and got on their knees next to you. They talked to you softly and watched in shock as you held your knee frantically and it was already beginning to swell under your fingers.
"Hey baby. Stop moving, it is alright. We are here," the blonde said softly, staring down at you in shock. You seemed to despair of the pain, slightly opening your shiny, tearful eyes while you mumbled incoherent whines. You looked between your mothers before the brunette found her words. "What hurts? Can you tell me that?"
Without words and with a face turning red from pain, you pointed to your knee joint, which took on a bluish discoloration and on which the doctors were already touching around. Maya gently stroked your hair and rested her hand on your shoulder while trying to calm you down with soothing words. "The doctors are doing what they can, but you can expect that you will not be able to play today and we are going to the hospital instead."
"No! No. We have to win the game! I have to play,"
Your mothers gave you a slightly annoyed look and shook their head hastily. How could you think of winning a stupid game while lying on the floor in unnatural pain? "Bella, non c'è modo. You are injured and we will not allow your addiction to the game to cause further injury." it burst out on the Italian and you stared at her defeated.
Your mother was right and you could not persuade the two rock-hard women anyway - you could not play like that.
With a firm grip under your armpits, Maya had clawed you and pulled you up, Carina carefully supported your balance with two hands on your shoulder blades. "Can you put your foot down?" a small but nice question that made you say no when you tried to do so. "No, it hurts so terribly!" you replied whimpering and leaned on the blonde's shoulder.
"Ti portiamo in ospedale. Maya? Hospital. It is probably the anterior cruciate ligament, it needs treatment." nodding, she pulled you closer to her. With quick steps, you both walked and hobbled down the muddy path from the soccer field until you reached the Italian's parked Porsche.
ᕚ---ᕘ
It had been two days since you were discharged from the hospital. As revealed by an X-ray, this was not just a simple injury, but a serious one that caused problems. Your mother was right and you really did destroy your anterior curciate ligament as a result of your accident and had to have surgery.
Now you were lying on the couch at home, your leg propped up on three pillows, while your favorite show was playing that you were not even paying attention to. Instead, you dwell on your thoughts.
Anything could have happened. Everything, but not that. It was the penultimate game of the season and now you had destroyed your knee in the decisive game for the final, which meant a four-month break for you. Now you could not attend such a big event and play for the cup.
"That is bewitched!" you shouted and slammed your fist angrily on the pillow that lay on your lower stomach. The blonde and brunette who had taken time off work to take care of you, quickly moving over to you and ignored the washing machine calling for them.
"Honey, what do you mean?" Carina whispered softly to you and gently ran her fingers through your hair. Tears wet your cheeks and you let out a soft sob, the pain brewing with the feeling of failure inside you. "I have failed."
"Hey, you did not fail. You are injured and that has nothing to do with failure. You will still get the trophy, I promise you that," the blonde continued the conversation and pressed a big kiss on your head, her hand softly touching your thigh and caressing it. Her voice was still a whisper.
A simple whisper that meant so much to you.
"But I let you down. You ran a 10,000 meter sprint with a sprained ankle and won the gold medal. And me? I just fell on the floor and now I have…this" you admitted, pointing to your braced knee. The last few weeks, the last few months have been so beautiful. Maya, Carina and you, were looking forward to your soccer game and had imagined what it would be like to celebrate your beaming face with the trophy in your hand.
But now everything had gone differently and you were lying here on the dreary couch and all hopes were destroyed.
Two horrified and deeply saddened faces exhaled loudly and were silent for a brief moment while they looked down dejectedly. You had no reason to compare yourself to Maya, you were unique in your own way and they hated that they could not take your worries away. "I beg you, Y/n.. you are not a failure." the Italian broke the silence and looked at you invitingly.
"Look at me little one," the blonde said cautiously, bending slightly over you and always looking into your eyes. You looked up at her questioningly, blue eyes boring into yours. "Neither Carina nor I are disappointed in you. Rather, we are happy that you did not injure yourself worse."
You nodded cautiously, holding back your words. The blonde smiled and got up from her seat before disappearing again. "Mom?" you called after her as she was about to disappear into the bathroom and she turned around questioningly. You held up the already heated ice pack. "Can you get me some new ice? It's starting to hurt again."
"An ice pack for the princess with extra painkillers and vanilla ice cream is coming right away!" she said curtly and hurriedly walked towards the kitchen. A few minutes later she came back two her wive and you with all the things and sat down next to you again. "Now back off. We are going to watch a horror movie to distract you a little," she giggled, grabbing the remote control. With a little nudge on your nose, you pressed yourself to the blondes side and rested your head on her chest.
"Se metti un film horror e lo guardi con lei, sei una donna divorziata."
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sourholland · 26 days
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based off of taylor swift’s song style
a/n → we are so back. here’s the official playlist for style 🩵 also there’s a dual pov moment in this ??? there’s been a few in this fic but it’s very deliberate this time and idk how to feel about it.
summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.
warnings → strong language
word count → 3.3k
reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!
SERIES MASTERLIST
Chapter 5
After you and Joe had come close to being caught in his locker room, both of you decided it was best to make a swift exit plan that let you both make it to the parking lot unscathed and unsuspecting. You departed first, quickly turning the corner and leaving the hallway with your bag slung over your shoulder. Joe had in fact kept your panties, taunting you for a minute and motioning for you to attempt to grab them from him. Spooked by the disturbance, you only told him that he now owes you two pairs.
Joe left a few minutes after you, taking a completely different hallway out of the facility and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He asked to see you before you’d split, so the fact that he knew he was going to follow you back to your apartment had seemingly put a bit of pep in his step. You watched him cross the large parking lot, waving at you and smiling in a way that left you shaking your head and laughing. He must have changed clothes before he walked out, adorning a pair of shorts and a black jacket overtop his white hoodie.
The drive was quiet, save for the few times Joe would purposefully begin to ride the ass of your car or honk like you had done something wrong. Funny, you bit back some amusement as you let the horn blare right back at him. He was unlike any guy you had been with in that aspect, his humor was genuine and never had anything to do with making you feel bad about yourself or to poke fun. His jokes never cut deep, which was rare in your few relationships thus far.
Joe parked beside you in your unit’s garage. His Porsche most definitely stood out amongst the line of cars, sleek and spotless as if he had just taken it through the car wash. Everything about him was so clean and prim and proper, it intimidated you now more than ever. A sudden feeling of insecurity washed over you, wondering if he was silently judging you and your life. You couldn’t help gazing down at the steering wheel, thinking endlessly about how much Joe really possessed in athleticism, riches, and looks compared to your ex-boyfriends.
Suddenly his knuckle wrapped against your window, “You got mac ‘n’ cheese up there? Tell me that doesn’t sound so good right now.”
You couldn’t help laughing at him, his so-casual words through the window that you rolled down. He leaned into your car, arms folded so his chin rested on them as he perched and tilted his head to the side. He looked inside of your car now, having never seen it. His legs were so long, you noted once again as you breathed another chuckle at his stature. He merely shook his head, waiting for a response about the food.
“I think I have the little Kraft cups. I might have some of the normal boxes, it might be Velvetta, though,” you watched as he gave you an eyeroll.
“You think one of those cups is gonna sustain me? I’m insulted,” he placed a hand on his heart and finally pulled his head out of the car. He opened the car door for you, motioning for you to step out with an outstretched hand for your bag. “I was practically inhaling those things at eight. You can’t seriously be full off one.”
“Excuse me, Joe. Not all of us are..” you spoke with booming amusement and sarcasm, prepared to give a dramatic reenactment as you approached the elevator. “The one, the only Joe Burrow! Heartthrob NFL quarterback, generous philanthropist, sexiest–”
“Ah okay, I see. Someone’s got jokes,” he interrupted, smiling ear to ear. “Please, don’t stop on my accord. What about me is so sexy?”
As you crossed the threshold and began upward in the elevator, you gave him a teasing smirk and noticed just how pink his cheeks had gotten at your comments. He was still holding your bag, bouncing up and down on his heels and occasionally glancing sidelong at you while you went up. The ride was a comfortable silence, simply peering at each other when the other was not looking in a sort of high school fashion.
Joe discarded his coat as he entered your freshly unlocked apartment, murmuring something about how he was sweating. You watched him curiously, tidying up and discarding some of the random things you and the girls had strewn around the apartment. He hadn’t ever been inside, he’d only picked you up when you went out for drinks. He definitely had no intention of masking his curiosity, he walked along the walls of your living room and noted each photo and piece of decor. He picked up a frame on the TV stand, it was a moment captured on film from your study abroad trip in Australia. His eyes scanned the photograph where you and Sydney were perched on pink beach towels, smiling drunkenly and wearing floppy hats for shade.
“What’s your life like?” He asked you, not a hint of hesitation in his question. “I know you’re a cheerleader, I know you’re going to school to become a teacher. What about all the other stuff, though?”
You paused and hummed, “I feel like my life might bore in comparison to yours.”  
“I highly doubt that, but tell me anyway.”
“I grew up in a pretty rural area in Massachusetts. I have an older brother, his name is Jack. My parents have been divorced for a few years, but they stuck it out until I moved out. For better or for worse,” you told him without maintaining much eye contact. “I’m really not trying to dump all of my childhood trauma on you, I promise.”
“Y/N, what are you talking about? I asked,” Joe said, reassuring you and noting how you fiddled with the strings of the knit throw blanket. “I want to know, I really do.”
His expression was genuine, his eyes serious and fixated solely on you. He had discarded his car keys and phone on a nearby countertop, giving you his full attention as you inhaled deeper and thought seriously about what you wished to tell him. He felt unreal, like something you had dreamed up and manifested into your living room. A part of you thought you should pinch yourself and look again, sure that he would have disappeared into thin air. No, you forced yourself out of the thought and made yourself see that he was just as real and tangible as you are. 
“We grew up pretty poor and just getting by. It was rough, those first few years especially, but we managed and eventually my mom and dad were able to save. They got into real estate later on and then investing, I’m grateful for all of it. I worked hard in school to help with scholarships and stuff so they wouldn’t be totally responsible for putting me through college,” the words flowed without much thought and he nodded, listening intently. “They weren’t happy. I knew it long before anyone mentioned divorce, but I was still pretty wrecked. I’m grateful, though. They gave me a great work ethic, you know just watching them build a better life for our family. I wouldn’t even live here without their help.”
“I can tell you’re a hard worker,” he was assessing you in your entirety. “Are you close with them? Your family, I mean.”
You stilled for a moment, thinking intently about the question. Joe was sitting across from you, elbows braced on his knees as he leaned into the conversation. His gaze was soft, gentle even. He wasn’t looking at you with pity, however. His expression was more of a mixture of understanding and concentration, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.
“Not so much, no,” you answered. “But the love is still there. I just have a hard time expressing it to my family, I guess. If that makes any sense at all. With my friends, it always just comes so much easier. I’ve just always felt outside myself around my family, like they know nothing about me.”
“How does that make you feel?” 
“It’s just kind of how it's always been, I guess.”
Joe listened to you for ten more minutes, not protesting when you rose from the loveseat and seemed to want to change the subject to something more positive. Following you into the kitchen, he began to look through the cupboards for something to make. It didn’t take him long before finding the Kraft cups, turning around and showing you with an eye roll. He began rattling off the nutrition label, making you raise your phone to him with a hand over your mouth as you captured a short clip of his fully serious assessment.
He continued to sift through the materials of your kitchen, finding an actual box of mac ‘n’ cheese and beginning to look for your pots and pans. You silently extended a hand, letting him take the pot from you and start cooking. You walked over to the fridge, glancing around your options for drinks.
“So I have Celsius, milk, Titos, Capri Suns, and water,” you told him, cringing internally at the selection. 
“What flavor Capri Sun?” He asked, stirring the food in front of him.
“Looks like… strawberry kiwi.”
“Yeah, I’ll take one of those,” he looked over his shoulder at you. 
You both ate in front of the living room television, watching The Hunger Games underneath the throw blanket you had extended to him as soon as you sat down. He took it graciously, eating much faster and going back for a second helping before you’d finished even half of your bowl. You snickered softly, wondering the daily caloric intake of an NFL player and how much Joe had to eat to maintain his figure. 
Once you both finished eating, he followed you into your bathroom with his bag. He took his toothpaste and toothbrush out, the set you assumed was only for practice and games. You both stood in front of the mirror, brushing silently until Joe would make a face in the mirror. He took the lid of the mouthwash you had filled up, knocking it back just as you had. He stifled a laugh while you swished, pulling his phone out and taking a picture of you with your hands on your hips, eyes narrowed at him and mouth full of mouthwash.
Joe’s cold hand slid onto your upper thigh as you settled back into the couch. He pinched softly and you whacked his arm slightly harder, causing both of you to laugh as he threw his hands up in playful defense. You let him lean in as he mouthed the word ‘truce’, only to attack your middle and put you with your back on the couch. He hovered above you, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and lips.
“Should I go?” Joe asked, looking down at his phone and realizing how late it is. 
“Do you want to go?” You asked him in one breath. 
The only light illuminating his face was from the movie playing in the background. Joe’s pupils were blown, his hair falling forward as he was still above you. His body pressed a fraction of his weight on you, both of your pulses pounding. He let himself think about the question, humming lowly and taking in the visual before him once again.
“I never want to go,” he said, half-joking with a smirk. “You tell me. I have to be at the facility to watch film at eight, I’ll be gone before you wake up. It’ll be like I was never here. ”
Is that what he wants? The question wracked your brain as you sat contemplating how casual this was for him. His flattery sometimes felt so real, like more than foreplay or meaningless flirting. There was always the undertone of what was wrong with you two being tangled up in the same blanket, though. Joe couldn’t bring you on a real date, you would never be able to show anyone the video from the kitchen–why shouldn’t this be casual to him? He likes you, perhaps. But how can you expect him to want to tiptoe around each other’s jobs?
“Okay, yeah,” the words came out more breathy than you intended. “Sounds good to me.”
Joe studied your dimly lit face, “Everything alright?” 
You told yourself not to be that same girl you were at the bar, the one you could only assume he viewed as a psychotic bitch. A part of you was willing yourself to shove down some of those strong feelings for him, giving him a soft smile and nodding. He relaxed a bit, letting you turn in his arms and watch the movie with your back to his chest.
It was only about ten minutes before you heard the sounds of his soft snores, one arm tucked underneath his head and the other firm around your chest. His breathing was deep and steady, occasionally pulling you into him further. After a few minutes, you grabbed your phone off of the coffee table and turned your camera front-facing, making sure the flash was off and snapping a picture to send to your group chat with the girls.
Sydney: Oh. My. GOD.
Sydney: I’m actually throwing up rn what the fuck 
Sydney: LOOK HOW BIG HIS HAND IS
Lena: I’m freaking the fuck out omg
Lena: I’m so jealous
Lena: He’s so 
Sydney: He’s fine as fuck
Y/N: IKR
Y/N: I think I’m obsessed 
Sydney: Girl wbk that
Sydney: Be fucking for real
Y/N: I simply do not think I will be making it to class on Monday
Lena: That’s three days away
Y/N: Ugh Ik
Y/N: Last first day of classes! 
Y/N: I’ll call you guys tomorrow and debrief
Both of them hearted the message, sending their goodnight texts and equally dirty messages about you and Joe sleeping together. You flipped the TV off and let yourself lean into his arms a bit further, inhaling his scent of high end cologne and mint. He held onto you protectively, caging you into his embrace and brushing his nose against your hair. You slowly let yourself drift to the sound of his breaths.
⋆------------⋆
Joe woke up around six, he felt you pressing into him and against him first. His neck was stiff, wishing he’d have made it to your bed last night. He couldn’t recall falling asleep, assuming he had knocked out while you both watched the movie. He inhaled the scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes for a few moments and allowing himself to linger between that sweet spot of sleep and consciousness.
He savored the few moments of domesticity, wondering what it would be like to wake up in bed next to the other. Everything about you was so intoxicating, he had never been much of a risk taker before. He would have never risked bringing you into the locker room if he was in a completely sane state of mind. He thought of you with such desperation and yearning that he simply couldn’t have cared less about what anyone had to say about it.
Joe knew this made him selfish, made him irresponsible, and that was the worst part. He knew and he didn’t give a shit, he couldn’t stay away from you. Not that he had really tried, but he also lacked the desire to. Being around you was bad for him, Joe thought as he watched you sleep soundlessly beside him. You cause him to completely lose control of who he is and yet he cannot seem to stay away. 
Slipping out from behind you without waking you was difficult, but he managed to get out over the back of the couch and readjust the blanket to cover you. Joe walked around, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on whilst also cleaning up a bit and helping with the dishes he helped dirty. He came up with the idea to leave a note, leaving him looking around your kitchen for materials, shaking off his damp hands and pulling his sleeves back down. He found a notepad and pen easily, but stared blankly at the sheet. Is leaving a note too much? He had a hard time reading your attitude towards certain things, he had tried to get you to stay for breakfast and you flat out refused him. Perhaps it was better to adhere to what was agreed on, it would be like he was never there.
After a few seconds of contemplation, Joe sighed and set the pen down. He left quietly after brushing a hand over your head once more, shutting the door softly behind him so as not to wake you up. 
⋆------------⋆
When you rolled over to grab your phone, Joe was already long gone and his spot beside you had now gone cold. Yawning, you sat up and padded to the bathroom to pee and contemplate everything that had gone on during the previous night. At first glance, you assumed Joe had tidied up the strewn pillows on the living room floor and moved your phone to the coffee table. 
Once you made it into the kitchen, you realized he had washed the dishes that had been used and pulled out a sheet of paper. There was nothing written on it, pen sitting idly by as if he planned to write something for you to wake up to. Casual, you reminded yourself. Both of you had agreed on casual. 
The run you went on this morning was particularly long, headphones blaring as you pushed yourself further and further away from your complex. Thoughts of cheerleading and Joe weighed on your mind heavily, his head between your thighs the night before most certainly did not make it any easier for you to focus on controlling your breathing. Casual felt like a punishment, especially in this case. He couldn’t have felt a fraction of how you did, your thoughts occupied constantly with the sight of his unruly hair and large hands on your body. He was making you crazy, the way he touched you was genuinely driving you into insanity. Much less the fact that you risked your spot on the team each time you answered at his beck and call. 
Your phone began to ring, Lena’s caller ID popping up. You answered, sweat coating you like a layer of oil.
“Don’t freak out.”
“Freak out?” I heaved, taking a long sip of water. “Why would I freak out?”
“There’s a picture of you and Joe on Twitter. You can’t see your face at all and you’re at a red light, all you can see is him and some of your hair,” she informed you, cautiously attempting to keep your anxiety at bay. “It’s days old, but it popped up on my timeline just now and it has a few thousand likes.”
She sent you a screenshot, fingers shaking as you opened up your texts and tapped on the picture. It was a photo from the first night you’d gone to get food, a sneaky snapshot at a redlight when your window was half down. Thankfully, only your shoulders and the back of your head was visible under the light that made the color of your hair hard to detect. Joe was looking over at you, smiling with one hand occupied by the half-gone milkshake. 
Feeling like the wind was knocked out of you, you silently copied the image and sent it to Joe. 
“I feel like I should end things with him officially,” was all you said to Lena. “He wants casual and I’m not sure this is worth casual.”
lmk to be added to the taglist!
taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @joselyn001 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @tomriddlesenchantress @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22 @harryweeniee
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Moonlight Chicken is For the Queers
Ok I started my rewatch of episode 8 and figured out what I want to talk about for this series' finale: intentions and resolutions. This post will be about intention, and how I truly feel that Moonlight Chicken is a gift for queer people. Why? Well, there are many reasons, but for the purposes of this post, I will simply present the following title card.
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Moonlight Chicken, Chapter 8: The Self-made House and Home
(if you are expecting this post to be anything other than a jumbled mess of my personal experiences with no clear through-lines or relevant transitions between sentences, thoughts, etc. then turn back now)
Whatever we want to say boy loves started as, fetish or otherwise, queer people are still able to see themselves or get comfort and representation. But coming from watching literally 25 boy loves in the last four months, this show feels different from most (not all) of them, to me, because of how strongly this show centers around built community, rather than romance, as it's central theme.
And yeah while any standard friend group in BL could be considered community in the abstract, the idea that they are a community is never quite presented. It's Team taking food from Pharm and all three of the gang teasing each other, it's Kuea and Diao spending most of their time talking about their relationships, it's Porsche forgetting Pete exists because he's so caught up in Kinn. More often than not we are building towards and hoping for declarations of love between two characters. And do not get me wrong, that is all well and good, and always what I'm rooting for in those shows. And we get something akin to that in Moonlight Chicken too, which is when you finally have Li Ming and Jim calling Heart and Wen (respectively) their boyfriends.
But the "I love you" we get in Moonlight Chicken? That isn't between the couples, it's between Li Ming and Jim.
Because the thing that makes Moonlight Chicken different from other BLs is the emphasis it puts on queer elders raising queer youth. It's about queer youth learning from queer elders and queer elders learning from queer youth. It's about how home and birth families don't always fit quite right, and how you build families and homes despite. And it's applicable to many people, children in abusive homes, disabled people, etc. too. Which is why P'Aof adds strained parental relationships and deafness in to this piece. But because this is fundamentally a BL show, I'm viewing this more through a queer lens.
So naturally, this also means I am informing my analysis of this show through my feelings as the only (known/out/visible) queer person on either side of my family. When I was little, a decade or more before I realized I was queer, I asked my mother one night if I was adopted. I'm not, and I know that, but why did I ask? Because I never really felt like I fit. Not the way I was supposed to fit, not the way family was supposed to fit together. My house never felt like a home.
And it's why I love this exchange between Wen and Jim at the end of episode 2
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"I want home," "Don't you already have one?" "I don't." "A person like me doesn't fit to be anyone's home,"
And technically we know this isn't true. Wen does have a home, he has a condo, he has a place to sleep. But emotionally is where the problem lies. Wen is living with his ex, the apartment is cold, he has work colleagues and a friend that he and his ex both know and that's it. And as he tells Jim in episode 7, all his friends are straight. And then he meets Jim, and there is a spark, and maybe it's possible for home to grow there.
Literally, physically, I have a home. I have a family. But the more I embrace my queerness, the more I understand and am comfortable with myself, the more isolating and cold that house and family feel. I'm such a different person now than I was, and there are homophobes and transphobes on both sides of my family, and that makes it hard for me to feel like I am loved. Even when logically I know I am. But it's hard, when your mother says she accepts you and has yet to use my pronouns properly despite me being out to her for over a year and having three separate conversations about it. When your uncle spends twenty minutes or more complaining about trans people, when your cousins don't think trans people should exist. That's my family...technically. That's my home...technically. But it hasn't felt like that in years. So I understand what Wen means here, Wen's definition of home is not a place it is a feeling.
And Jim? We know Jim is already everyone's home. He is home for Li Ming, he is the closest thing to a parent that Leng has in his life, he makes sure the community not only has food, but has as much as food as they could possibly eat. He is first and foremost a community caretaker. But he is so wrapped up in his grief about Beam, his self-hatred, his stubbornness, his exhaustion that he is not able to believe that about himself. Home is a place and not a feeling for Jim, because he can't allow it to be.
The key to Wen and Jim's relationship is finding and building that home.
Home, Family, Community. These are incredibly important themes to Moonlight Chicken and those themes are incredibly important aspects of being queer.
I don't know how Thailand is re: homophobia and transphobia, if kids risk the same chance of getting kicked out of their homes for being queer, etc. But that is a very real possibility for many queer people in the States. But I'm thinking of homelessness in queer youth, how 28% of queer youth have reported experiencing homelessness in their lives. I'm thinking of ballroom and ball culture and how participants in the Ballroom scene were parts of Houses with mothers and fathers at the head of them who acted as mentors to their queer children. When I think about queerness and what it means, I think about ballroom. I think about connection, I think about community.
But that community is often forged from necessity borne out of isolation. What do I mean by isolation? I mean the isolation that Li Ming feels in school, around his school friends. I mean the faces Li Ming makes when his friends are talking about girls:
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I mean the physical barriers the show places between Li Ming and his school friends.
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It is the isolation that comes with queerness, with poverty, with everything about Li Ming. Beyond the fact Wen is a little younger than Jim and thus better able to understand and see Li Ming's desires to be seen as an adult. I think it is this state of listlessness in Li Ming is also something Wen recognizes. I think at this point Li Ming is so desperate to get away, to go to America, to be listened to and respected by Jim.
Jim who is too caught up in constant stress to see the home he has built for himself, Li Ming who is too caught up in wanting to be understood to appreciate that he has a home to run from. Wen who is working as a go between for Li Ming and Jim because he wants them to be his home. Heart who has been trapped at home and found his freedom because Li Ming understands the frustration of misunderstanding, and the importance of community.
I'm thinking about how so much of the final episodes are dedicated to showing community, showing family, showing the audience that home lies in the collective.
We see it in how many people rush to help Mrs. Hong:
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We see it in the people who help you carry your grief:
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We see it in how deeply and broadly the pain is felt when community pillars are lost:
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We see it in the end of and era:
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We see it in the olive branches:
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And in new beginnings:
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Very few people in these shots are connected through blood, but they are a family. And when I look at these shots the only thing I can think about is how I felt the night I threw a party for all my trans friends. All I can think about when I see these shots of everyone sitting and eating together is how many times I would look over to my friends and see them beaming. How many times someone came up to me to excitedly say this is the first time they felt like they could fully be themselves. How everyone kept asking to do an event like this again. How everyone kept asking to be added to a group chat at the end of the night so they could keep in contact.
And I remember how it felt for me to realize that I had built a community for myself in a place that I have really been struggling to feel was home. Because I had spent so much time in school and work, barley able to scrape together enough money to cover expenses, exhausted and stressed and unable to see what I had sitting right in front of me.
And I think about other queer people I have met, who light up when they see someone else who is gay, who talk about how lonely they feel because they only have one other queer friend. How immediately the need to invite them out, to introduce them to people, to make sure they have community strikes.
I think about how I worked at a summer camp out of state, and got to try out my pronouns, and figure out who I was, and then a few months later, I had to return home. Where I wasn't out yet, where I was going to get misgendered, and how quickly I came out to all of my close friends about my gender identity to try to mitigate how much my mental health tanked when I had to be someone my parents thought I still was. How at the same camp, the queer kids flocked to all the queer staff, how desperate they were to bond. How much lighter they got to be when they were away from their parents and allowed to be themselves around people who also understood not only them as people with the identities they held, but also their struggles existing in a household that didn't see who they were.
I think about how, in the States at least, "are you family?" is/was used as code for "are you gay?"
It's why it is so important to me that Moonlight Chicken ends with the line: "I just built a home. I don't want to move anywhere."
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Because Wen has finally built his home. Because he has found his family, his queer community, his home. And yeah, we get the romance, yeah we get Li Ming and Heart holding hands, and Jim and Wen making out, but the emphasis of the final episode is moving forward, being brave, allowing yourself to love, and allowing yourself to stop, look around, and realize that you've made a home for yourself that is built of the people you love who love you in return.
Community building is a huge part of life for literally everyone, but it vital to the survival of marginalized communities. And when I think about my own relationship to queerness, one of the most sacred and important aspects of being queer is building the family you need.
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astonmartingf · 2 months
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IMPECCABLE TIMING . . . 🏁🍒🏎️
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LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid
. . . as a part of katarina's media duties in the paddock, the press questions about her "sudden" move to porsche, with people theorizing about her impeccable timing of doom.
amgf 2.1k words... set during the bahrain pre-race press conference, mention of red bull controversy, implied media play, mystery(?)
license to drive ; masterlist
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SITTING FOR INTERVIEWS ISN'T REALLY KATARINA'S FORTE, just like the other drivers she'd rather race. But at the same time, she enjoys the chaos press interviews bring. Especially for the upcoming 2024 season, a lot has happened over the winter break.
One transfer which Katarina is heavily involved in, and despite not being one to tell all to the press, the feeling of slow feeding information to journalists, leaving crumbs of information here and there, laying down innuendos is more than enough for her to agree for the press conference schedule.
It's the first race of the season, drama is about to unfold, and Katarina is ready to watch them all from the palm of her hand.
Greeting the drivers, she sits right beside Lewis as the conference had just begun, with the host talking to Lando furthest to her. At the same time, Carlos walked from the sea of reporters, Lewis teasing him, gesturing his watch.
Katarina scoots over to the edge, with Carlos situated next to Lewis. Opting to get interviewed last, knowing very well of the questions she's about to receive.
The female driver keeps herself busy with her thoughts, listening in to some of the drivers and their questions. As much as she hated interviews listening in to the drivers answer repetitive questions was funny up to a point.
"This season is not only filled with finales but also debuts. Shocking everyone during the first half of winter break, having moved from Red Bull to Porsche. In her 8th season we have Katarina Lombardi— how do you feel about moving teams and debuting in Porsche for the season?"
Katarina smiles, picking up the microphone from Carlos beside her. "What a lengthy introduction that was. I think it was a pretty good move, I mean for me I moved a few times before, nothing shocking really it's just fun. I'm absolutely happy in Porsche— not that I wasn't in Red Bull mind you."
She clears the air and jokes around realizing the cameras pointing at her on live television. Watching Max from the corner squinting his eyes playfully, earning a small laugh from Karina.
"To me like what Lewis and Carlos have said, moving is a common occurrence in the sport, I mean just four years ago I was in Mercedes, and then moved to Red Bull, and now I'm in Porsche. It's our first year together and things are definitely looking interesting. Not just for me but for the whole team, we're learning together and getting through the ropes, I'm happy and I hope we can deliver through more of our goals."
Katarina smiles, satisfied with her answer, if it wasn't evident with the big smile on her face one can clearly see how she's enjoying this season. In fact, Katarina is excited, having worked with the car, their only goal was to score points, and if possible chase Max in his rocketship of a Red Bull.
Despite the rumors of her falsely being kicked out of Red Bull, Katarina left in her own volition. Offered a seat in Porsche, the female asked one question before solidifying a contract with the team.
When Porsche revealed they were planning on signing Liam Lawson to the team it was enough for her to move, she had faith in him, and together they could score points together. During the break she spent her time with Lawson in Germany testing the car. Which performed more than she expected, not bad for a first time, but the female knows the only results that matter is on the actual track.
"Hello, I am Felipe Santos. Question for Katarina Lombardi–" Your eyes perk up, as you watch a middle aged man in his forties from the back ask his question, "following your move to Porsche there has been a lot of speculation in your move, a lot pointing out the comedic timing of your move, back in 2021 from Mercedes to Red Bull and in the same year the championship went to Red Bull, and now with the issues going on in Red Bull, you moved teams to Porsche. People have been calling you a horseman of doom, are these issues the reason behind your move? Or are they mere coincidences that happen? Are you glad to have moved out from Mercedes and Red Bull?"
Katarina grabs the mic from Lewis, formulating her answer in her head before speaking. This is the type of questions the female's PR manager prepared her for, there are times for snarky remarks or sarcastic comments, and there are times for prepared responses, as what her PR manager instructed.
There is no such thing as a scripted answer, we are prepared when such occasions arise– yadda yadda yadda something about keeping the team's integrity or brand. Shit.
Katarina hums, filling the silence still contemplating on the response to give out, on the far corner of her eye she sees Nicolas, her PR manager staring at her, hands waving on his neck.
Breathing in at an attempt to keep her composure, but the insinuation of Katarina's move as some comedic timing, as if real people weren't involved fumed her in a different way.
She may act indifferently to the press about moving teams, and how her calculated moves benefited her, but they don't see the late night negotiations and hours of talking to lawyers and advisors for the best move.
She didn't like being involved in the drama one bit. "I think calling it comedic timing is inappropriate. Because the situation is not comedic at all, it's not funny, nor do I enjoy seeing my decisions plastered into this controversy. It's disheartening, in this time and age to hear about these allegations. I am glad to have moved but not at the expense of my decisions being held to a higher standard than the actual controversy going around."
Silence.
She could feel her PR manager rolling her eyes, but Katarina couldn't care less. It was one way to shut up the crowd, she was not about to let the media use her move from Red Bull to Porsche as a cover up story.
She's been in the sport for so long, things have to change. She passed the microphone back in Lewis' direction as the media got back to asking questions.
For the remainder of the interview, no one dared to ask her another question.
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"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?"
The first words Nicolas, her PR manager spoke as soon as she left the press conference schedule.
"It's the truth! What do you want me to say? Some neutral answer to pacify the press?" Rolling her eyes, Katarina entered the Porsche motorhome greeted by Alessia, her trainer who was waiting for her.
"You know that the team has given you freedom to speak whatever is on your mind, and we admire that. But a heads up could be good, I knew for a fact you weren't about to answer the memorized paragraph we spent hours together—"
"You want me to say it in a nicer way? Is that what you're implying?" Katarina cuts him off, turning around to face the man stressing about the stack of papers in between manila folders.
"The media will do everything to twist your words, tread lightly."
Katarina laughs, head shaking at his statement, "Yeah, and if they dare twist my words I'll just have to speak up more about it then. I worked hard for this, moving to Porsche was a gamble to my career! Not that I'm not enjoying it right now, it's definitely better than I expected, but for my move to be belittled as some comedic timing? No way! I fought my back out of Red Bull, they can't twist my words against me."
Nicolas nods his head slowly, arms rubbing around the female's shoulder trying to calm her down. "I know. I know how hard you worked to get out of Red Bull, and how Porsche is your saving grace for offering you a seat but they don't know that. They don't know you took one of their junior drivers, and that's what they're trying to get out of you. So calm down, and think before you speak- would be my advice as your PR manager. But as a friend, I want you to know that we're a team here, and whatever you plan on doing, we'll be here to support you, but don't go in blindly like that. Tell us, we've been through thick and thin, don't you dare think I'm about to leave you after working with you for the last 10 years."
A small smile curves up in Katarina's lips looking away bashfully at Nicolas, "Fine. As my PR manager I promise not to do things without telling you first. As a friend, thank you. For staying, and coming with me despite Red Bull's efforts to poach you undr my nose."
Leaving Red Bull was a sensitive topic for Katarina— but she'd rather act to the press about an amicable split then open up a whole can of worms. She had to leave and she doesn't like to talk about it.
Her decision to leave was done before the 2023 season even ended, yet none of the grid knew of her transfer. Not even her previous teammate Max, and other than Liam, after the news of Lewis' transfer to Ferrari, Katarina greenlit Porsche' announcement of her and Liam Lawson as their drivers for the upcoming 2024 season. That being said, her winter break was definitely eventful.
Raising her head from her notes, Katarina watches Lewis welcome himself in her motorhome.
"Katarina Anneli Lombardi, we're full of surprises this season huh?" Lewis closes the door behind him, getting comfortable beside you.
"I'd like to say the same with you, Ferrari, good choice— maybe by the time engine regulations come you'll come out on top, or Charles doesn't matter to me, I'll beat either of you."
Scoffing, Lewis closes Katarina's notes pushing her legs in his direction, facing him. "So, how did that happen?"
"I could say the same to you, you know." Katarina shrugs, parroting his own question back to him.
"Yeah we're not doing that. You know what's the deal with Mercedes, I'm glad you didn't sign that contract extension. But you, what happened?"
Looking away from Lewis hands settled on hers, zoning out on the wall behind his silhouette. Left frozen in her own thoughts, gulping as she avoids the question.
"If you're not ready to say anything, you don't have to say anything yet. I just want you to know that I will always support you."
The female blinked her thoughts away, slowly nodding her head digesting what Lewis said. "I'm glad you got out of Mercedes too. I hope this season will be kind to you."
Lewis laughs, dropping the topic behind them. "But during the press conference, what that interview said, comedic timing huh? Didn't even realize that."
Katarina sneers, "I almost got myself stuck in Red Bull if I didn't move then."
Her eyes widened, she spoke too soon without thinking. Fuck.
And Katarina was right, her words didn't fly past the older male beside her, raising his brows. "Katarina..."
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes as Lewis pulled up with his "serious dad" voice. "I promise you it's nothing."
"You say that, and then I find out later it's something serious. Anneli, what happened with Red Bull?"
The female shakes her head, refusing to answer. "I'm sorry Lewis, but now is really not the time to talk about this." Looking left and right the windows of her motorhome, Katarina stands up towards the door, checking if it's locked.
"I promise you I'm fine Lewis. Who else would I tell you if I don't feel good?" Twisting the door open, hiding her actions under the guise of a polite act, "But now it's time for you to leave because I have to rest and study for free practice. Now go back to your garage, they might tamper if you're not looking."
Lewis faces the younger incredulously, shaking his head, before pulling Katarina in a hug.
"I'll see you before free practice?"
Katarina ponders before turning her head side to side, "Nope, I'll see you after free practice."
Lewis hugs her once more before leaving her motorhome, the female standing by the door watching his back leave. Checking the area around the motorhome, Katarina takes note of the neighboring team garages beside them, to the right was the familiar Williams motorhome, and in front of them was the fiery red Ferrari.
Going back inside the comfort of her room, Katarina shakes off her thoughts focusing back on her notes for the upcoming practice. Knowing very well that there are vultures lurking, waiting for a feast before their eyes.
Only time will tell, but today isn't one of those days. Because like how the journalist coined, it'll all come in impeccable timing. She was a horseman of doom like they said, and soon she'll have to prove herself like she did eight years ago.
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amgf why'd she leave red bull? i guess we'll find out soon hahahaha i enjoyed writing this so much, i think i'll be writing this following the 2024 season, of course tweaking the scenes a little bit but what an introduction! i can't wait to write more about her, and hopefully we see a more fleshed Katarina and how she came to become like this. enjoy 👍
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hi! could you do i mirage x fem bot where she's kinda got the build of a mech and is super self conscious about it. and when noah and elena meet her they think she's a mech and she gets upset and they've got no clue whats going on but mirage does and he comforts her? sorry if this doesn't make sense 🫶
Just the Way You Are
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ROTB Mirage x Femme Autobot Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1300
You had heard much about the Autobots’ human allies. As you waited patiently inside a warehouse which was the current hideout for Optimus Prime and the Autobots, you couldn’t help but feel excited. You had never directly interacted with humans during your short time on Earth, and you were looking forward to finally meeting them. Shortly after the Transwarp key had sent its beacon into the cosmos, you had followed its signal in your ship to Earth. This is where you would come to join up with the Autobots and make this planet your temporary new home. 
As for your new comrades, you found them to be welcoming but you got along with some better than others. Of course you regarded Optimus with the utmost respect, but he wasn’t much for conversation and you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. Arcee was informative and kind; Bumblebee was quirky and fun; but Mirage definitely made you feel far more comfortable. Actually, he made you laugh quite a bit, and despite Mirage’s antics often butting heads with Optimus, you couldn’t help but want to spend more time with him. Besides, he was highly in-tune with human culture and close friends with their human companions. 
Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard the familiar rev of Mirage’s engine, causing you to transform from your vehicle mode into your Cybertronian form. In usual Mirage-fashion, the mech peeled into the warehouse in his Porsche vehicle mode before halting to a sudden stop. You couldn’t help but roll your optics slightly, thinking to yourself Always with the dramatic entrance. 
As Mirage parked, both the driver’s side and passenger doors opened, allowing two humans to emerge. Once his cab was empty, Mirage transformed from his vehicle mode and stretched his limbs. As he glanced around, Mirage’s optics focused on you, “Hey, Y/N! Ready to meet my friends?” His tone was upbeat and full of excitement as he beamed with eagerness. You took a few steps forward before focusing your gaze towards the two small human figures standing before you. “I’m glad to meet your acquaintance. I am Y/N,” you lower your frame slightly, trying to decrease the height difference as much as you can. 
Mirage steps in to introduce everyone, “Y/N, this is my boi, Noah, and the badass Elena.” Both Noah and Elena smile up at you, with Noah stepping forward to address you, “Y/N, it’s an honor to meet you. It’s great to have another Autobot on the team. Maybe Mirage, you, and me can head out on the town afterwards. Just the three of us guys hanging out.” Before you can fully process Noah’s words, Elena chimes in, “It’s nice to have you joining us, Y/N. Hopefully Mirage and Noah don’t rub off on you too much. Honestly, we don’t need too many boys misbehaving after all.” 
You pause briefly, taking in what you just heard, Do they think I’m a… mech? You tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, attempting to force your emotions to the back of your mind. As much as you tried, you couldn’t stop the surge of emotions that would ultimately bubble to the surface. You were aware that your frame build wasn’t as feminine as a bot such as Arcee. That you were built thicker and more muscular than the average femme on Cybertron, a fact that had plagued you even before the war, as many a mech would make a jab at your more masculine appearance and voice. It all would become too much, and your body language betrayed your thoughts and feelings. 
Noah and Elena watched you in confusion, unsure of what was bothering you. Noah stepped forward to speak, “Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Was it something we said?” 
Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you turned suddenly and glared down at 
Noah and Elena. “Yes it was something you said! It’s something that everyone, human or Cybertronian, apparently has to point out!” Your words came out in a tone of both anger and agony. You would swiftly turn away and transform into your alt mode, before driving out of the warehouse, your destination: anywhere but here. 
Both Noah and Elena are left speechless and with a sense of guilt, although they had no idea why. Mirage looked down at the two of them and gestured to Noah, “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve got this.” He quickly shuffled away from them both, transforming into his vehicle mode then driving off in pursuit of Y/N. After a short drive, Mirage follows your trail to a secluded and abandoned lighthouse on the edge of the bay. Mirage had been here before and knew this was usually where you went to relax or calm down after a hard day. Mirage transformed from his vehicle mode and walked around the exterior of the lighthouse, finding you sitting down, your back leaned against the building. He notices your dour demeanor and softly speaks, “Hey… Y/N, are you feeling alright?”
Although you weren’t expecting Mirage to follow you after your outburst, you weren’t surprised as he was Mirage after all. You kept your gaze averted from Mirage, “...I could be better…”
 Mirage tries to keep a positive attitude and sits beside you, scooching closer to you, “I’m really sorry for Noah and Elena… I promise you they didn’t mean to offend you. Even humans can make mistakes and I’ll let them know what’s up.” His optics are locked onto you, his expression soft but clearly full of concern. 
“I’m sorry if I overreacted, but… it’s not just them, it’s just… everything and it’s hard not to be affected by it.” Your entire life you had to struggle with your appearance and how so many Cybertronians mistook your gender. You always tried to ignore and deny how this made you feel, but there was only so much you could handle. Despite having known him for a short time, Mirage had always tried to make you feel better in his own quirky way. You always laughed at his jokes and you were always down to join him on patrols or occasionally risk a lecture from Prime after breaking curfew. Primus forbid anyone should know you had developed a crush on him, although you never thought you had a chance with someone like him. 
Sensing your distress, Mirage shifts towards you and places a servo on your shoulder. “Y/N, I’m gonna be honest with you. You’re cute as hell and I think you are one of the finest femmes in the universe.” He flashes a brief smirk before his expression changes to be softer and more vulnerable. Mirage begins to go off on details about your personality and how he finds your mannerisms absolutely adorable. But this mech isn’t done yet. “Don’t get me started on how a chick who could bench me is beyond hot as slag. And don’t get me started on what’s ‘feminine.’ Cause what even defines that? Tall, short, skinny, built, thick, all the same to me.” He fires off a shameless wink towards you before clearing his throat and re-focusing, “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, but I really like you. As in… ‘like you’ like you. But… I understand if you don’t feel the sam–”
Before Mirage can finish his sentence, you wrap your arms around him and pull him close, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Catching yourself, you quickly pull away embarrassed, “...I-i’m sorry…! I don’t know what came over me—” You are in-turn surprised as Mirage brings you close once more and kisses you, 
As his lips slowly pull away, Mirage smirks to you, “I one-million percent feel the same.” 
END
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