#Red Bull Ring

[lestappen-stan]

lando wanting an apology from max…

bro think he leclerc in vegas 2023

[not-another-side-blog]

[fernando-jpg]

austrian gp 2024 summarized

[77tahlias-obsessions14]

My boys had their own battle early in the race and finished in the points in P6 and P8. I'm so incredibly proud of both Nico and Kevin

[tyrannosaurus-maxy]

👍🥺

[hookhausenschips]

Prequel: The Decision To Go

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Summary: If you received an invite to Singapore for the Grand Prix, not as a regular fan but VIP do you accept?

WC: 1,051

Warnings: none

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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The streets of Bridgetown at night were like a second skin to me—familiar, rough, unpredictable. The air was thick with salt from the sea, and the warm breeze carried the scent of asphalt and exhaust. This was my world. The dim glow of streetlights, the low hum of engines waiting to roar to life, and the tight-knit circle of racers who treated every corner like a battlefield. I’d spent the last five years living for this—late nights, fast cars, and the constant chase for that rush.

Tonight was no different. I leaned against my car, a 1996 Nissan 240SX that I’d rebuilt from the ground up, its engine purring low and steady. My fingers traced the door’s smooth metal absentmindedly. This car had seen more than its fair share of races, its engine a beast, and its body a warrior. This car was my pride. My life. My street racing world was exactly where I wanted to be.

Zane, my long-time friend and racing partner, strolled up beside me, a grin on his face. “You ready for tonight, Y/N? Lookin’ like a good crowd tonight.” He motioned toward the small group of racers gathering at the far end of the street.

I glanced at him and shrugged, a smirk playing at my lips. “Ready? Always. You know that.”

Zane chuckled. “You sound bored, though. Same streets, same people, same game?”

“Nah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You know me, Zane. I love these streets. Ain’t nothing out there for me but this.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything else. He knew better than to question me when I got that look in my eye. The truth was, street racing was more than a hobby, more than a thrill—it was my life. I’d built a reputation here, earned my respect, and there wasn’t a damn thing about professional racing that appealed to me. Sure, F1 was glamorous, but it lacked the soul, the grit of the streets. I had no desire to give up the freedom, the rush, or the independence that came with running my own game out here.

Then my phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw a message from Naia, a friend I’d met a few years back during a trip to London. She was connected in motorsports, always keeping me in the loop about the professional world. I scanned the message quickly:

"Singapore F1 Grand Prix coming up. Got a VIP pass with your name on it if you’re interested. Let me know—this could be your way in."

I raised an eyebrow. Zara knew me well enough to understand I wasn’t looking for a way into professional racing. But I could sense there was more to the invite than just a flashy weekend at the Grand Prix.

Zane peered over my shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Zara,” I said, holding up my phone. “She’s offering me a VIP pass for the Singapore Grand Prix.”

His eyes widened. “F1? Ain’t that the big leagues?”

“Yeah, but you know I’m not looking for that.” I shrugged. “It’s just an invite to check it out. Not like I’m jumping ship to the pros.”

Zane smirked, leaning against my car. “I wasn’t sayin’ that. Just surprised. You gonna go?”

I was quiet for a second, turning the idea over in my head. I wasn’t interested in F1 as a career, but the idea of watching the race up close, seeing what all the fuss was about, and getting a taste of that world for a few days? That could be fun. “I don’t know. Maybe. Could be cool to see it, get inside the garages, meet some drivers.”

Zane nodded thoughtfully. “Could be an adventure. Not like you’re signin’ up for the circuit. Ain’t nobody pulling you outta these streets.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, meeting his gaze. “This is my life. Street racing is what I live for. But there’s no harm in checkin’ out what F1’s all about, right? It’s not like they could tempt me to trade in the streets for their clean, polished tracks.”

He let out a low laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. They ain’t got what we got.”

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, feeling the weight of the decision settle into my chest. "I’ll think about it," I said. "But for now, we’ve got a race tonight."

Zane’s grin widened. “That’s what I like to hear.” He stepped back as I opened the door to my car and slid into the driver’s seat, the leather familiar against my skin. “You’re a street racer, through and through, Y/N. Don’t let nobody forget that.”

I smiled, firing up the engine. The 240SX roared to life, the sound reverberating in my chest, grounding me in the present. F1 might be glamorous, might be the pinnacle of motorsport to some, but to me, it was just another spectacle. The streets were real. The thrill of racing under the radar, with no rules but your own, couldn’t be replicated anywhere else.

As the flag dropped and I launched forward, the tires squealing against the asphalt, the thought of F1 slipped to the back of my mind. This was where I belonged—in the heat of the streets, pushing my limits with every turn.

---

Later that night, after I left Zane and the others celebrating another win, I found myself alone at home. The quiet was a stark contrast to the noise of the streets, but it gave me time to think. My phone buzzed again, and Zara’s message glowed on the screen. I stared at it for a moment, chewing on my lip. I wasn’t going to trade street racing for F1 or any other professional circuit. That wasn’t the life I wanted. But maybe seeing it up close, getting inside the world of Formula 1 without any strings attached, wouldn’t be so bad.

I typed out my response, keeping it simple:

"I’m in. Just for the weekend, though."

As soon as I hit send, I felt a flicker of excitement. I wasn’t leaving the streets behind, but I was ready to see what F1 was all about—on my own terms, no compromises. Street racing was in my blood, and nothing could change that.

[poscariastri]

Charles Leclerc how do you do it. bro is always in a Situation. theres always Something going on

[aircooled911]

[fellow-meme-lover]

I’m a Carlos girly through and through but his qualifying luck is insane. Like in Australia when he qualified higher than Charles, max’s car shat the bed and he got the win (rightfully so). Then today he qualifies higher than Charles again and lando and max decide to take each other out, nicely handing him a podium. Meanwhile Charles is in the dirt with one of the worst pole-win ratios I’ve ever seen (not through any fault of his own). I just find the luck-factor of f1 super interesting and funny

[ferraris-gf]

close enough, welcome back brocedes

[maxarchief]

♡ Max Verstappen looks on in Parc Ferme, after winning the Sprint Race at the Austrian Grand Prix — 29.06.2024 📸 Mark Thompson ♡

[justc2world]

They're actually blasting smooth operator in the circuit ❤️

[visualvocabulary33]

[forza55]

im sorry but why are so many people wondering why lando won dotd when dotd voting opened BEFORE the collision

[raphoupix]

Lando recap of the 2023 season

9th weekend of the season: Austria 🇦🇹