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#max german interview
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Max on the sofa ❤️
(Live from MDR um 4 - you can catch up on ARD Mediathek)
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maxedes · 29 days
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as mentioned sky germany has three kids reporter this weekend & they got to interview max.
a short rundown:
- he was very cute with the kids (always cute talking german & cute with kids. so we got cute squared)
- the kids were so nervous (especially about asking for a selfie) but he was so nice to them & they seemed very comfortable once they started talking
- they asked who would drive for him & what the team name would be if he had his own f1 team. he picked lando & oscar as drivers & mentioned his sim team verstappen.com as a name.
- next question was who would play him in a movie. he said he‘d rather not have the movie but maybe leonardo dicaprio
- answer to his all time favorite driver is michael schumacher
- he looked a little lost about the question what his job would be if he weren‘t in f1. he said maybe a motor go driver.
- then max vs 1 kid drew the zanvoort layout while blindfolded. max won by a mile. he couldn‘t let the kid win if he wanted to.
- he let the kids wear his helmet & told them they looked really cool
- they wanted to know what the best & worst thung was about being a driver. best is driving & worst ist media (but he said with the kids it‘s fun, he just doesn‘t like the adults hahaha)
- he privately mostly drives an audi. i didn‘t catch which one exactly but it just looked like a standard svu (?). nothing flashy just a normal road car.
- the kids debriefed the interview together & mentioned how nice he was & that they had a lot of fun.
edit: link to the drawing challenge
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23victoria · 2 months
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Passing the Phone
f1 grid x reader
warnings: cussing, unhinged, satire, complete jokes (are they?...), dark humor ig…idk, talk of age gaps, sa allegations, no just kidding...very much reading people to the filth
authors note: lmaoo don’t ask me why i wrote this cause idk…but this is so unhinged 😭😭 please don’t take offense to this and if you do…i said don’t…all jokes i love them, some of them, you can find it funny or you won’t, just wanted to get this out of my drafts
want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!
f1 masterlist
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Video starts with Y/N holding the phone, in selfie mode.
Y/N: I'm passing the phone to someone who had the biggest breakup in F1 history with a blond German boy named Nico.
Lewis: Babe, no!
Y/N: What, too soon? It's been years but okay! Sorry! Okay, let me start again. I'm passing the phone to someone who said "Fuck Mercedes" and is going to Ferrari for 2025!
Lewis: Y/N, no!! You cannot say that! You’re gonna get me in trouble!!
Y/N: Fine, fine, fine. I'm passing the phone to the GOAT of this generation with the most wins in F1 history, yet he was robbed of the championship in 2021.
Y/N passes the phone to Lewis.
Lewis: stares at Y/N then laughs “I'm passing the phone to someone who is known more for his memes than driving skills.”
Lewis passes the phone to George.
George: laughs “Hahaha real funny…I'm passing the phone to someone who took six years to get their first win."
Lando: “Dude, what the fuck?! Fuck you, Woody! I'm passing the phone to someone who's younger than me yet acts years older than me.”
Oscar: “....You're not funny... I'm passing the phone to someone who's most likely losing their seat next season.”
Logan: “The fuck, Oscar! I thought we were friends! Low blow, mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has yet to get P1, yet all his friends who got into F1 after him have won races already.”
Alex: “....And that, Logan, is why you're losing your seat. Mr. What The Fuck is A Kilometer. Anyway, I'm passing the phone to someone who just got brutally murdered by an interviewer on Sky Sports regarding their F1 career, if you could call it that.”
Daniel: “You shouldn’t be talking Mr. I Have No Wins….eat shit…I'm passing the phone to the shortest person on the grid but cusses more than anyone here.”
Yuki: “That interviewer was right, why the fuck do you still have a seat in F1?!! Dickhead. I'm passing the phone to a man with good fashion sense and his teammate might steal his seat.”
Zhou: “Bro….really. I'm passing the phone to someone who acts like he's Australian when he’s not…oh, and his seat is at risk too.”
Bottas: “Yeah, yeah, whatever mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has enough penalties in just nine races that he can be banned from racing in F1… permanently.
Kevin: “You're so funny, Bottas, hahaha…ha. I'm passing the phone to a dickhead.”
Nico: “Fuck you too asshole. I'm passing the phone to a person who has a shitty ass dad who deserves to be in jail.”
Max: burst out laughing “Ah, no lies told there. I'm passing the phone to someone who only has a seat to protect me from having any real competition…”
You laugh in the background “Oh shit.”
Checo: blank stare “Motherfucker! That just shows your true colors... I'm passing the phone to... who am I supposed to pass it to... uhhh... Y/N.
Takes phone 
Y/N: “Oh, I know! I'm passing the phone to someone who has sexual assault “allegations” against them, but the FIA wants to hide it. I can’t go near him for my safety, so I’ll just turn the camera towards him... *pans the camera to Christian Horner*
Everyone is stunned and silent, then there’s Lewis laughing in the background 
Y/N: “Oh! I have another one! Hey Kelly, “i hear you like them young”, to be more specific at the ripe age of 17... mhmmm, she's a pedoo. What Kendrick say “TRYNA STRIKE A CORD AND ITS PROBABLY A MINNORRRR” *pans the camera to Kelly Piquet*
silence.
Lewis: runs towards Y/N and grabs the camera “Yup, that's enough for today. You're trying to start problems and get people beat up”
Video ends with Lewis taking the phone away from Y/N, shaking his head while laughing.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .
✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @magixpracticality @exotic-iris13 @tellybearryyyy @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly
@eoduuung
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .
*sooooo……that’s the end….LMFAOOOO, again…DO NOT COME FOR ME…ITS JOKES (is it really though)*
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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own
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thissying · 2 months
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There's an interview with Nico Hulkenberg in the Dutch Grand Prix Special 2024 with a part about Max as well which I don't have time to post and translate right now but this bit:
"When Max and I talk we usually do so in Dutch or English. And when we do we always tease each other a bit: he teases me about my Dutch and I tease him about his German. How? In German interviews Max always uses the word 'of course': of course this, of course that, yes of course... Just pay attention to it, haha."
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nirvanaday · 2 months
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My personal lestappen-gate-roman-empire is actually something that most people don’t know, or at least those who don’t watch f1 in german on austrian tv.
Naturally Helmut Marko is interviewed very often,being austrian and all and WITHOUT FAIL whenever he talks about ferrari, he is talking about charles. He compares charles to max ALL THE TIME like he knows that that’s who Max wants to be measured with.
He always reminds them not to forget about ferrari even if they‘re fucking up the strategy again (he’s just delulu like me fr) but he is rarely talking about carlos, it’s always charles this and charles that. And he does call him ‚charles‘ often,not leclerc.
Think about him what you will, but that man is just as obsessed with charles as max is. Like he knows that those two are true rivals.
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heartysworld · 3 months
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The Red Race Suit || Sebastian Vettel x Reader
Request: Let's say Mick actually managed to stay in F1 and is actually winning GPs (in a perfect universe) and this time he got P1 and Seb is P2 and during the press conference after the race a reporter asks Seb how he feels about someone else "stealing" P1 from him and instead of talking about that Seb says how he's proud of Mick for achieving such success and stuff like that! I'll leave the rest to you!
A/N: To whoever requested this, I hope your pillow is cold on both sides as that's the cutest thing I've ever written! The feelings were all over the place! I hope you enjoy this one and if you guys have any more requests feel free to send them in💝
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You watched from the Ferrari garage as the post race conference was about to begin, your husband being there as well as he got P2 at his home race. On your lap sat your 3 year old son who excitedly bounced his arms as his big blue eyes registered his father's Ferrari red race suit.
"Dada!"
"Yes, my little love that's daddy there on the big screen." You said as you kissed his chubby rosy cheeks while the little boy in your arms let out an excited squeal.
"Following a spectacular FIA Formula 1 German Grand Prix we are joined by Max Verstappen in third place , Sebastian Vettel in second and our winner Mick Schumacher. Good job Mick, another spectacular race added to the long list of wins. How does it feel to get P1 once again, following your father's footsteps?" One of the many interviewers behind the camera asked.
"Yes, thank you. Of course it's very rewarding to see all of you hard work pay off. This was a hard race, the weather conditions were quite concerning at some point. To be able to go through with the whole race and get P1 is always an amazing feeling. I can only hope my family is proud and watching, I know my sister is somewhere here today." Mick said, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought about his big sister witnessing yet another of his wins.
"And Sebastian, what's the feeling of losing grasp of P1 during the last two laps? Surely that's something to talk about. Nobody expected such turn of events during the last few minutes of your home race!" The next question was addressed to Seb. Your husband smiled before answering.
" If it was any other situation I wouldn't be the happiest man out there. However, I couldn't be more proud of Mick here, seeing him achieve something he's worked so hard for. He's the godfather of my son, he's family at this point, probably the only one whom I don't mind being P1 instead of me." Sebastian asked, his answer making everyone in the room laugh.
There is not a person out there who's not aware of the bond between the two. Seb was to Mick was his father was for the once young an energetic Toro Rosso rookie in 2007.
When you found out you were pregnant with your first child three years ago, one of the first things your husband asked of you was to allow him to make Mick the godfather of your baby. Even though the Schumacher boy was just seventeen years old back then you didn't need to be asked twice if you agreed with your husband. You loved both Seb and Mick,and seeing them happy could only make your life better.
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Your husband wasted no time finding you after all the interviews were over. By that time you and your son had moved to his motorhome as the little one had started to get cranky, demanding his naptime. The moment Seb saw his son's squished cheeks against the soft pillows a bright smile graced his face.
"Hey there, champion" you stood up from your spot on the bed beside your son, wasting no time in finding the comfort of your husband's embrace, nuzzling your face in his chest. "you need a shower, schatz, as soon as possible." You murmured against his chest. Your words were followed by a low laugh from your husband, careful not to wake up the sleeping toddler.
"Let me enjoy this moment a few more seconds, liebling. I don't get to have my wife and son at a race every other week." Sebastian said before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"Hmm, that is correct. Our little man was so excited to see his papa in the red racing suit. The moment he recognized you he got so excited. I wouldn't change this for world of me." You said as your mind went back to an hour ago.
"Neither could I, liebling. Having you here makes me even more agitated to win." You husband answered, one of his hands coming up to your face and making you look up at him before kissing your lips softly.
" The second place today says otherwise." You laugh as you watch his eyes crinkle as he laughs at your sarcasm while his hands come to press you even tighter to his body.
" Don't be mean, my love. As long as it's Mick or our son in 1st place one day I don't mind." Seb said smiling at the thought of his son following his footsteps one day.
"You're going to make go through the same stress levels with our son as the ones I'm dealing with right now as I watch you race? How thoughtful of you, Seb." You exclaimed whole your husband laughed at you.
"Don't worry, liebling. I'm going to give you more children who will take your mind off such things." You husband leaned closed, mumbling against your lips as he smiled before giving you a deeper kiss.
"Hmm, I'll have to think about this. Win me another world champion title and we might get to work on your request."
"You know better than to test what I'm capable of, darling. When I want something I achieve it. And when I do, I don't apologize for winning. So he careful what you wish for."
Reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! 💝
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saintescuderia · 6 months
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pancakes (pt. 3)
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AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.
series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)
A/N: don't come for me. i love daniel. it's all for plot. (also, if the timeline seems odd it’s bc creative liberties have been taken 😌)
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P3 - stairmaster endurance
As you walked down the steps to the Drivers Gala in your stunning red dress, you were unaware how one Ferrari driver couldn’t take his eyes off you. Looking at you smiling elegantly to one of the reps who greeted you, Charles realised just how much of a mistake he had made. Carlos was at his side, saying something that was back ground noise. All Charles could focus on was you. Your flowing hair, your eyes glinting in the light as you smiled your beautiful smile at whoever was talking to you. You always spoke with such passion. Charles always loved that about you. He would always love every little thing about you—
The alarm went off. 
You blinked and stopped the timer notification that essentially shook you out of the deep rabbit hole of F1 fanfiction you had found yourself falling into. Closing the purple app, you wondered why you still remained on Tumblr even after the 2013 hype of it died and everyone shifted to Twitter. Let alone the fact that your Tumblr had become your closeted way to fangirl about the sport you had dedicated your life to.
Then again, what were you to expect? The algorithm clearly picked up on your interests. That or the government was listening in and knew that Formula 1 was your day-to-day. That would explain how, one day, you were simply scrolling through the random, niche memes and BAM! You were met with the completely random gif-set of Arthur Leclerc and Oscar Piastri sat in an interview for Prema. 
It had caught you off guard, seeing that come up on your phone screen. It had also been a while since you had seen Arthur. For the whole duration of that single and endless moment, you didn't know how to react.
So your thumb double tapped the screen.
And maybe it was your fault for liking it, for encouraging the algorithm. But you could’t help but smile at the gif of Arthur confident and proud of his 18 hour screen time. That boy had no filter and never gave a fuck about the social norm. That and he often just didn’t read the room. Even after all these years, and his climb up the motorsport ladders, that youthful element about him had remained. It made you smile. You always liked that about him.
However, with that gif-set came more stuff. Innocent stuff. More F2 bits - you really missed those boys - and then everything else. Funny bits of Max at Red Bull. Carlos and Lando. All the Guenther Steiner moments. It was a little weird to be liking gifs of a team principal, you were well aware, but if anything it just made you feel proud of how far the German-Italian had come.
Back in the old Red Bull days, Guenther would always tell you about his dreams of directing his own team. It was nice to see him finally achieve that. It was also an endless source of amusement for you.
For example: the day Kevin had shattered the door.
When it happened, though, it was definitely not a laughing matter. You had been just finishing up the lunch service at the Haas motorhome - making sure to pack up some food for the drivers and mechanics who still were in a meeting - when you had heard the loud noise. Mack, the sous-chef, had stopped and looked at you with wide eyes.
You had both exited the kitchen to walk out to the main space of the motorhome and see other Haas employees equally as confused and whispering. Not getting a clear answer, you patted Mack on the shoulder and returned to the kitchen to finish plating up Kevin and Romain’s lunch for later. 
Fifteen minutes later, however, and you had gotten your answer when Guenther stormed into the kitchen fuming. “He does not slam my fucking office door! What am I going to do? Call Gene and tell him his drivers are some fucking idiot babies?!”
You had simply stared at him, blinkingly.
Guenther had then spied a plate of food sitting on the bench. “That fucking driver doesn’t deserve any of your fucking food!” And he picked the plate and dumped plate with its contents in the bin.  
“Guenther," you had began in a calm voice, "that was my lunch. Kevin’s plate is in the fridge.”
“Well eat his fucking food! Or—" Guenther reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card and slammed it onto the table in front of you. “Go to a fucking five star hotel and have lunch there on that fucking idiot baby's pay.”
And the two of you had actually done so.
Even after he calmed down, Guenther had been adamant to take you to lunch which, admittedly, wasn't the most odd thing ever. Guenther was removed enough from all the driver drama and you had known him a for long time. You were the reason he had helped in the debut in 2016 anyway.
Still, no matter how Guenther Guenther was, Kevin was still a driver. You knew how it might look.
Said driver, however, had thankfully just dismissed it when you offered to pay him back. "Make me those mini pizzas next time you're with us and we're good."
And so when you clocked on this morning to see you were covering Haas, you immediately smiled and went to make good on your promise to K-Mag.
You always loved working in the Haas motorhome. If only half the stuff you saw Guenther did and said ended up in gif-sets on Tumblr.
Pushing yourself off the stool, you pocketed your phone and grabbed the oven mitts to pull out the mini pizzas. You had made extra for the engineers since there was an issue with Nico’s PU and knew they would be up late working on the engine. It wasn’t a secret that your pizzas were a coveted snack, being low-carb and high protein enough for even the drivers to consume. You were half expecting Fred Vasseur to pop in and steal some. He did love these pizzas. Any time you were stationed at Alfa Romeo, it was a guarantee you would be making them at his request.
Though, now Fred was moving to Ferrari. So you weren't sure if he was still going to be nice to you. Mattia Binotto had always treated you like the fucking plague.
"Ah, Y/N. For fuck's sake!" You heard the German accent and felt your mouth curve up into a smile as Guenther arrived on scene. He was dressed in the Haas gear for 2023, lanyard around his neck. "You still here running the coffee when you can beat any of these idiots in the car."
You gave him a fake two finger salute. "If I drove, no one would stand a chance."
"Well maybe you could help us score some fucking points." Guenther said. Immediately, he got down to business. "Harry Kane did well last night. Scored two fucking goals."
You snorted. One of the many reasons you and Guenther bonded so well was that you one of the few people amongst this Paddock that took football seriously. Almost as seriously as Formula 1. Almost.
"Didn't see it." You said, shaking your head. Bundesliga was lower on your list of priorities when it came to games. You only paid attention to the German league when it came to teams making it into Champions League. Besides, Guenther should’ve known what game you were watching last night. Still, you reminded him. "The Reds were playing."
He rolled his eyes, though unsurprised. "Of course you're going to watch English fucking football."
"Hey, only because of Salah.” You reminded him and hit your chest proudly, “I gotta represent."
"That much is fucking obvious." Guenther said. One of the many reasons you liked working in Haas so much was that it was by far the most relaxed garage out of them all. For example, you hadn't yet taken off the hoodie you wore which had, on top, the number 10 Liverpool jersey. It looked unprofessional, having a t-shirt over a jumper like that, especially mixed with the headscarf you had tied on your head like a durag, but Guenther couldn’t care less. If anything, he was probably just offended at your choice of EPL team.
“United is fucking Red.”
"Ah, Guenther. You know my heart really lies." You reminded him.
Your uncle, with his love for football, had brought you up following the iconic Real Madrid. He literally visited the hospital with a teddy bear and Bernabeu membership, adamant he would get his newborn niece into the sport. No matter what.
From the moment he found out your number one team, Guenther was salty. “Los Blancos.” He scoffed. “The fucking villains of football." He came round to see the circular pieces of bread covered with sauce and an array of different toppings. Guenther picked one up - and immediately dropped it. "Fuck!"
"It's hot." You said, dryly. You took out another tray and set it down. You closed the oven door and turned it off. You flipped the towel over your shoulder as you watched Guenther now at the sink, running water over his burnt fingers.
"You don't fucking say." Guenther blowing on his fingers.
“Stop being a baby.” You laughed, bringing up your hands to your head to fix your headscarf.
Guenther ignored that comment. "Fred fucking loves these things. Don't tell him you made them. I don't want him in here stealing them."
You said nothing and turned around to pretend to busy yourself with the trays of mini pizzas. It was best to just remain quiet sometimes. Bahrain testing had kept everyone occupied and at that start of the season F1 Hospitality were usually running around after Stefano Domenicali and the FIA Co. for last minute set up. It was only into the race calendar that Hospitality were eventually went around to the teams.
So, no. You hadn't seen Fred. You hadn't seen anyone. You were just grateful that your first race of 2023 was in the safety of Haas. Nico and Kevin were older and, therefore, a little more out of it when it came to driver drama. If they knew anything, they were old enough to be mature about it.
Though, that couldn't be the same of others from their generation. You were already losing sleep from the feelings that arose from seeing Daniel in Red Bull gear. It didn't help that the last time you two had spoken, things hadn't exactly been civil.
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You were on the stair-master. The clock on the machine read 37:48. The sweat was dripping off you.
Your grey jumper had darkened in shades, wet from the sweat. You kept your hands on your head as you stepped and stepped and stepped and stepped. Angsty rap music blasted into your ears. Tinnitus was likely to worsen, but you would take that over the shit storm that was currently breaking all over the Paddock. 
I understand that, without my agreement, Alpine F1 have put out a press statement late this afternoon that I am driving for them next year. This is wrong and I have not signed a contract for Alpine for 2023. I will not be driving for Alpine next year. 
Oscar hadn’t even yet joined Formula 1 and he was already stirring trouble. That was a problem. For you. You were supposed to lay low. The whole point of this was to lay low and not drawing any attention to yourself. The agreement was that you could still be there if only in the role of Hospitality. 
And the idiot had tweeted that and then, ten minutes later, decided to follow you.
How he even found your Twitter was surprising? It wasn’t very personal - your profile picture was solid black - so no fans would be able to recognise you. But the Paddock? The FIA and your bosses? They were raising confused eyebrows that Oscar Piastri would drop that bomb and then follow you.
You could already imagine what Otmar was going to say. God, the 2023 season hadn’t fully started and you were already dreading walking into the Alpine home. And then Jos Verstappen was rumoured to be attending more races this year and who could forget about Daniel coming back to Red Bull? The universe apparently needed to give you some character development, it seemed.
Your legs ached, begging to stop. Your mind thought about pressing the red emergency button, to just end it. But you knew better. You knew this was all a mind game. Pain is an allusion. Keep going. Shit hurts but you push through. Keep going. Keep going. Keep fucking going. It's what you always told yourself. It's how you got yourself through everything. It's how you'll get through all of this. If you can push through the pain of the stairmaster, then you can push through the pain of anything. You had learned that pain was temporary and it was just a mind-game. You could always go longer than you thought possible. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. So, right now, it was just practice. Each step you took right now was practicing the endurance of pain from this stairmaster fucking filling your legs. If you could get through this, you would be able to handle any drama in the future.
Unfortunately, drama walked through the door before you could make it through the current pain of said stairmaster.
Daniel Ricciardo stormed into the Driver’s Only Gym, knowing all too well that this was where you would be. He had been the one to tell you about this fucking place in the first place. Before everything, you had always loved working out and exercise was part of the reason you two ended up as you did. Now, you didn’t have the luxury you did before. You didn’t have the lanyard.
So, now, you had to workout in the shadows.
That didn't mean Daniel didn't see you. Didn't hear you. Didn't know what you were doing every single day of every weekend the both of you avoided each other at the Paddock. He knew you still wore your sneakers according to the race location. He knew you still wore headscarves when in the Middle East and covered your tattoos when in Japan. He knew you still avoided Charles just he like he knew you still avoided him. He knew you.
So Daniel knew you woke up at 4am every day to work out. And after Zak Brown told him the news, he spent the night dealing with his spiralling career through a bottle of Jack Daniels. Then he had the idea to come out from the four walls of his hotel room and see you.
Because Daniel knew you had made your pancakes for the rookie, that fucking Oscar Piastri. And Daniel was one of the few people who knew, who fully understood just what that meant to you.
Drunk and emotional, Daniel planted himself right in front of the stair master. He stared at you, caught like a deer in headlights and got right to it.
“You must be fucking happy.”
It was the first time he had directly spoken to you in five years.
So it took you a second to process what was happening.
Daniel Ricciardo was right here, in front of you, at 4:50 in the morning as you sweated your body weight out through the repeated steps you took on the machine.
Suddenly you were aware that you had rolled yourself out of bed with a little less motivation than the norm. You had been extra tired, hitting snooze more than twice. You hadn’t washed your face and you wondered if Daniel would be able to spot the stain of egg yolk on your hoodie. It had been some time since he had been this close to you and you were in bike shorts and currently on a bulk. Suddenly, you wished you were on a cut. Why did the one time he came this close to you had to be so big and puffy?
"Excuse me?" You found yourself saying, shifting one headphone off your ear. “Can I help you?”
"Did you know?" Daniel asked. He didn't give you a chance to respond. "Of course you fucking did."
Without even thinking, you pulled the red plug your mind had obsessed over and jumped down. The pain was already here so there was no point going through any more than necessary. You looked up at Daniel, panting. He, too, was exhaling a little heavier than normal. Too angry and, judging by the smell of his breath, drunk to be stable.
There was no point lying to him. Aside from the fact that Daniel was emotionally charged (and drunk - and he got super passionate when he was drunk) you knew he would immediately pick up on it. You don't spend three years with someone and not know them like the back of your hand. And, unlike him, you can safely say that you hadn't really changed since 2018. If you lied, he would know.
"I signed a NDA, Daniel." You said simply, walking to your gym bag sat on the red bench. You picked up your bottle to take a sip, your throat dry. You tried to keep yourself calm and not shaky. Do my legs look too big? God, Please don’t let me smell like BO. Your thoughts were still running rampant. Despite the extensive cardio, your body was buzzing from the anxiety of having Daniel so close.
Daniel. To think you had once been so deeply in love with the man stood before you.
"Fuck off." He spat. You recoiled. "No one gives a shit about that."
"I do." You said, trying to keep your voice from growing small. "Sorry I care about my job."
Daniel let out a sardonic laugh. You braced yourself, knowing what was to come. You had experienced this many times before during your fights. "What? Making coffee and fucking washing the dishes? Yeah, great job you got there, babe."
"Don't call me babe." You spat back. "And can you not be a dick for two fucking seconds, Daniel."
You said it. His name. When was the last time you had said it? It made you both take a second to process what was happening, to acknowledge how long it had been since the two of you had actually spoken to one another, how long since you had addressed the other as a human being that actually existed.
In that moment, Daniel finally seemed to lose a bit of anger and, instead, show a glimmer of vulnerability. "I lost my seat. I don't know what I'm going to do."
You looked down at your shoes at show of helplessness. New Balance 350s. Red and yellow. They had been on sale. You liked them for stable LISS circuits but hated the colour way. Now, they were the most interesting thing to look at.
Everyone knew that Daniel Ricciardo was always all smiles and that, no matter what, he was optimistic. Happy. He never showed any weakness.
Except, you had seen him when the smiles fell away and the laughter died. In the safety of your private hotel rooms and Daniel could just be, you saw him vulnerable, you saw him hurt, you saw him stress, worry, cry, swear and be open to how he was really feeling. Like right now.
“Daniel I—“
"You didn’t even think to fucking tell me."
You looked up at the change of tone and how he was frowning-- no, sneering at you. This made you change and any remorse, any pity, you felt for the man in front of you immediately vanished. You weren’t in a hotel room. You were in the gym. And it had been five fucking years.
"Are you fucking blaming me right now?"You snapped back. "What the fuck do I owe you, exactly?"
"I’m the reason you’re here!"
By now, your heart was racing. And not from the exercise. This, this was it. You finally had your moment to say it.
"Yes, exactly, Daniel. You’re the reason that I am, as you said, making coffee and fucking washing the dishes! If it weren’t for you, we both know where I would be right now. But you got fucking scared of Max and blamed me for it!"
This hit a nerve. "I was not scared of Max! I outperformed Max!"
"Yes, on the weeks I fucking trained you!"
"Fuck me,” Daniel was shooting straight daggers at you despite the wry grin on his face, “do you really think that was all you?" 
You put your hands on your hips and squared up to meet his eyes, narrowing your own. "Considering how your teammate took me on as a trainer and then became the number 1 driver, yes, I will take some fucking credit for that." Daniel's face dropped when you said it. And you knew it was a low blow, but you couldn't help the words before they tumbled out from your mouth. "The world’s fucking moved on from Monaco 2018. Maybe you should too."
"Fuck you!" He shouted.
"Fuck you!" You shouted back. You grabbed your phone and found yourself tapping onto a recent chat and speedily composing a text. You hated how your fingers shook. You also hated how you were texting for help.
"Well, clearly you haven’t moved on from Monaco if you’re bringing it up." Daniel said, no longer shouting, but his tone still as icily. "You’re going to be mad about that until the end of time?"
You closed your eyes and willed your eyes not to think of the image of him with her, the pain you felt walking in and seeing that. Instead, you opened your eyes and stared him dead in the eye and spoke as calmly as possible.
"Jos Verstappen will be coming to the races more often this year. That means I won't be able to work in the Red Bull garage. If I'm at AlphaTauri, do not fucking come."
Daniel ignored this, undeterred. Instead, he kept grinning down at you thinking he found something. "You seriously aren't over it, are you?"
"No, the memory of you putting your dick into another woman still keeps me up at night." You rolled your eyes despite how it still did admittedly hurt. You pretended it didn’t and hoped he believed it. "Please stop thinking so highly of yourself. Remind yourself of why you're here, right now, talking to me."
Daniel's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something but the sound of the doors opening had him closing it. You grabbed your gym bag and finally made a move to turn around and escape the gym.
Ignoring the looks of one very confused Carlos Sainz as you breezed past him.
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"I have to go deal with idiots who can’t tell me what’s wrong with the engine." Guenther said. You had brought forth two plates and slide two pizzas onto each.
"Here. For you and Nico." You said, knowing Nico would join the meeting about his car. "I'll bring a tray in a little bit for the rest of the engineers."
"Make me and Nico some coffee, please." Guenther said, taking the plates. "And pour in some fucking whiskey." You laughed and watched him disappear down the hallway of the offices set up. Haas' lack of financial support meant their motorhome was mediocre at best. Still, you loved being here more than anywhere else. It was the safest, really.
Wiping your hands on the towel, you went outside to where the coffee cart was situated. Another example of Haas' lack of funding was needing a Formula One coffee cart and not having an in house machine like everyone else did. You went about preparing the coffees like how you knew Nico and Guenther liked - as well as making yourself one while you were at it.
"No Real Madrid today?"
You found yourself jumping at the familiar Spanish lilt of the other Ferrari driver. Carlos Sainz was someone you never really paid any close attention to. He wasn't close enough to either Daniel or Charles' circles to ever have been on your radar. He had left Red Bull before you did and since he was Ferrari associated, it meant you never really had much to do with him.
Still, he was pleasant and nice. He always had been. He was one of those drivers that if word had spread to him - and it was very likely that it had - he didn't show it. Or care enough about it. Any time Carlos saw you around the Paddock, it was with a warm smile and a quick small-talk question about your thoughts on Real Madrid's latest match. But that was really ever it.
Until that time he had walked in at 5am to see you and Daniel Ricciardo screaming at each other.
"Uh, no. Liverpool was playing yesterday." You said, wondering if he knew you also cared about the Scouse team. Admittedly, you didn’t have the same love for them as you did for the Spanish legends, but you couldn’t have Egyptian heritage and not care about Mo Salah.
"You're Egyptian, no?" He asked. You focused on frothing the milk, unable to really look him in the eyes so soon after this morning.
"Yes." It was there in the mix, yes, but you really weren't up for explaining the complicated heritage of your ethnicity this morning. Looking at the milk circling in the silver jug, you realised your face was heating up. You were slightly surprised he even knew you were Egyptian in the first place. Unlike with Guenther or the splattering of other football fans in the Paddock, you and Carlos only ever had brief snapshots of Real Madrid small talk.
Still, this wasn't an odd conversation, you had to remind yourself. You were talking about the one thing you and him ever talked about. But, again, this was after Carlos had walked in to see you, a Hospitality worker, arguing with a driver.
"Please don't tell anyone about me being in the gym." You finally said, turning off the frother to gently tap the metal jar against the bench and settle the bubbles in the milk. "I could get into a lot of trouble since it's only for drivers."
Carlos waved a dismissive hand and shook his head. When it was clear he wasn't going to, you breathed a small sigh of relief. But then he leaned against the cart and you felt yourself starting to get anxious again. There was a quiet moment for a second as your poured the latte for Nico. Carlos' eyes followed your hands.
"I will say something if Ricciardo upset you." He said in a quieter voice.
You immediately shook your head and finally looked him in the eye. "Please don't. There's enough complication with... everything." You finished lamely.
"So I've heard." Carlos said.
You looked away. He knew.
"So then you'll know I don't need anymore complications." You said through gritted teeth, hating very much the confirmation that word had spread about what had happened.
"You haven't done anything wrong, though."
This caught you by surprise. It was the first time anyone - or, at least, a driver - had said those words to you. At the start, everyone had immediately pointed fingers at you. You were shunned and blamed. Some saw your position with the Formula One Group as part of Hospitality too light a punishment for what had happened. For the longest time, it was the confusion as to why everyone had reacted that way that did that hurt you. You hadn’t thought you had done anything wrong. Not really. You struggled to understand why no one else saw it that way. Least of all any of the drivers that knew what had happened.
Hearing Carlos say that really threw you for a short second. Carlos even caught it. He said your name and you finally looked up at him when you heard him say your name.
"Sorry it’s just - uh, Carlos, man.” You laughed a dry laugh. “You're probably the only driver who thinks so."
"I'm not." Carlos crossed his arms. "I might be the only one who has said so, but if I've understood correctly... then I'm not."
You looked down at metal jug in your hand with the extra milk you had frothed for yourself. Suddenly, you didn't feel like any caffeine. Your anxiety was already through the roof.
"Do you want a coffee?" You asked, sounding, again, very lame as that was your response to Carlos' comment.
The Spaniard looked back down at the spoon and jug in your hands. He nodded. "Have you had one already?" You asked. He shook his head and so you went about pulling down another paper cup to make his piccolo.
"You remembered." He said, laughing slightly.
"First coffee is a piccolo. Second and third are black." You recalled his order. Carlos smiled at you as you poured the milk. "I know everyone's coffee orders."
You didn’t catch how his smile lessened slightly at that.
You looked back at him and tried to ignore the thought of whether his kindness was exaggerated for your sake. A pity thing or something. Carlos accepted the coffee and then he actually offered a thank you in Arabic. You found your lips turning up hearing the marhaba on his Spanish tongue. “Es un placer.” You came back with his own native language.
You don’t work in Formula 1 without picking up a few things here and there.
Hence how you could recognise the German swears that sounded from within the motorhome as Guenther suddenly appeared.
“Where is that Y/N? Liverpool fucking tops the league and thinks she can take her time with— ah, you Ferrari fuckers!” Both you and Carlos looked to where he had come up behind the driver and slapped a friendly pat on his back. “Tell Fred he can’t have any pizza.”
“Pizza?” Carlos asked and looked down at you. “You made your pizza?”
You didn’t get a chance to respond before some Haas engineers appeared behind Guenther and called for you and him. Carlos took this as his sign - he was technically on Haas territory - and nodded at you and Guenther, holding up his piccolo in salute. Guenther had already taken the coffees you’d made for him and Nico and disappeared behind the sliding doors. You made a move to follow when Carlos called out.
"I want to try some famous Y/N pizza!” He said, turning on his heel as he walked backwards and called out to you.
You smiled and shook your head, walking back into the Haas home. You went back to the oven and set about plating up the pizzas to be a little more presentable to them. You also made sure to put some aside especially for Kevin. This was supposed to be for him.
You thought idly of saving some for Carlos when some Haas engineers you vaguely recognised walked past.
"Oh nice!" One engineer said, coming up and immediately reaching for one to stick it in his mouth. You watched him do the same blunder that Guenther did.
The other engineer, a woman with a thick Irish accent? was staring at you. Smug. "Damn, who got you smiling like that, missy?"
"What?" You asked, eyes going wide. You hadn't realised the wide smile on your face that was likely the direct result of one Carlo Sainz. Your face became hot again and it took every ounce of will to not seem affected by her words. “No one.”
"Mmm. If you say so.” She said in a sing song voice. “Well and me Mr Cool over here,” she gestured to the the other engineer trying to breathe through the hot pizza, “are heading to the garage now to see Kevin. Can we take them?"
"Yeah." You nodded. "Go ahead."
"Not saving some for anyone?"
"No." You shook your head firmly. "Take them all."
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< prev ch [2] | next ch [4] >
taglist:
@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3
@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej
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invisible string | m33 | part one
Description: You face a career-ending injury, that forces you to give up your childhood dream. 7 years later, you return to the paddocks as a guest - and as the Team Principal of Prema Racing. What happens when feelings are too difficult to hide?
Author's Note: first part focuses more on the past. fc: courtney eaton.
Pairing: max verstappen/racer!reader
part two |
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(2015, Mercedes-AMG Petronas.)
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(2016, Mercedes-AMG Petronas)
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your_name_updates: Y/N L/N wins first F1's German Grand Prix, with Lewis Hamilton third. @itsmee_yn
12 comments 1,293 likes
ynsupporter: I'm so proud of her
maxverstappen1: A well deserved win! WDC next? @itsmee_yn - itsmee_yn: depends if u give me a kiss for good luck - - maxverstappen1: 😳
lewisloversupports: Ya'll let girls into F1 and this happens...
iloveyoulewishamilton: This is totally unfair. Lewis should've won the GP 🤬
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itsmee_yn: is it just me or is the redbull garage kinda crazy? @danydk1 @maxverstappen1
19 comments 2,183 likes
danydk1: Crazy because of a certain Mercedes driver.. 🤣
maxverstappen1: You are a spy sent from Merc loll - itsmee_yn: and ur an accomplice for letting me in
ynischampion: I hope that you win the WDC
bandanasupporter: I wish that you'll be the #1st woman WDC
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LEWIS HAMILTON AND Y/N L/N'S FRIENDSHIP ON THE ROCKS: HAMILTON WILL NOT LET L/N WIN A CHAMPIONSHIP.
It is no secret that Hamilton and L/N are friends. They have posted each other on instagram, and L/N talks about him in their interviews, but according to an insider - the friendship is reaching an end. With L/N's back-to-back victories and Hamilton's lousy attacks, a rivalry is not out of the question.
When asked why Lewis Hamilton tried to overtake Y/N L/N in the German GP his response was: "What am I supposed to do? Just let the girl win? Of course not, I'm fighting for my championship. This is sports and if she doesn't understand it - she can pack her bags."
L/N is yet to make a statement.
comments
reynaduoo: this is breaking my heart 💔
mercedeslovvvv: Is Mercedes so good that they're own drivers are fighting with each other? 💀
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mercedessupports: Y/N L/N and Lewis Hamilton have unfollowed each other on social media. Y/N has also taken off the "Aunt to Roscoe" on her bio.
28 comments 82 likes
isupportmercedes: Mercedes has to talk to their drivers. It's not good to see them fighting with each other on social media. - ynlewiston: it's Y/N's time to shine, Lewis should take a chill pill - - lewislovercarlos: she's 17 years old, she can win her WDC another time. Lewis deserves it more.
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itsmee_yn: Me when Max's mom tells him to go home :(
129 comments 3,458 likes
maxverstappen1: BRO? - itsmee_yn: wdym bro, just call me baby
dynastyoffleng: I love Y/N and Max's friendship
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(2017, MERCEDES-AMG PETRONAS)
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mercedesupdates: L/N and Hamilton have crashed into each other in the Spanish GP (FIRST GP OF THE SEASON). The race has been halted and ambulances have made their way to the duo. According to bystanders and professionals, L/N has suffered a 50G crash and her car has crashed into the wall. Updates are coming soon.
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taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @eternalharry @milaeth @msliz @lifesuckslife @ellamae021 @1-800-simpingcowbaby @trashcanrat @ccallistata @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @georgeparisole
AS ALWAYS. COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.
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everythingmaxriemelt · 2 months
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Max’s interview with Kinomagazin about filming “Zwei zu Eins” (“Two to One”) ❤️ Full interview available on Youtube.
Q: How did you find working with Sandra Hüller and Ronald Zehrfeld?
Max: Yes, it's really pleasant. I've been friends with Ronny for a long time. We've known each other since The Red Cockatoo (film) and not much has changed since then. It's always fun, it never gets boring. And I knew Sandra too, but we've never worked together. And yes, I have a lot of respect for her and her work and it was very, very pleasant. We played a lot of cards together. Like Cabo, that's a game I brought with me. And yes, we had a really good time. We also went to the outdoor pool, the swimming pool. That just shows how much we like each other and what a good time we had.
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not-that-syndrigast · 5 months
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For brocedes reasons, does anyone have a better quality version of the clip below? I had to download it from a Tiktok video and it has 3 pixels at max. It's from some interview, probably early 2010s from the German TV- channel RTL but the clip is so bad I can't make out anything else
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kwisatzworld · 9 months
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List of Valentino Rossi books and documentaries:
inspired by @pgaslys list of marc’s docs
📚 Books
What If I Had Never Tried It [English/Italian/Spanish/German/Japanese/Chinese, etc.]: Vale’s only autobiography to date, translated into a lot of languages (so many that it’s hard to keep count). The English edition is notoriously rough - think spelling mistakes and some lost-in-translation moments. Despite this, yellow fans absolutely shouldn’t miss out on this gem. Published in 2006, during Vale’s zenith with five consecutive championships under his belt, the book radiates his happiness and confidence. The narrative is casual, with chapters loosely connected, but you will still find pleasure in reading this book.
MotoGenius: the Valentino Rossi biography by Mat Oxley: Oxley remains my all-time favorite Rossi author! Initially published years ago, the latest edition is available on Kindle. It’s a treasure trove of Vale anecdotes and Oxley’s unique insights, offering a glimpse into how Vale captivated his generation.
The Valentino Rossi Files: Everything I’ve ever written about VR by Mat Oxley: Available on Kindle, this collection (in two parts) encapsulates all the articles Oxley wrote about Vale for magazines and newspapers before joining Motor Sport Magazine.
Valentino Rossi: The Definitive Biography by Stuart Barker: A comprehensive biography of Vale, chronologically organized.
Valentino Rossi: Il Dio del Motociclismo by Fabio Fagnani [Italian]: Not recommended as the author’s fan-like admiration making it read more like a love letter than a biography. The only saving grace is the interview with Aldo Drudi.
Valentino Rossi: All His Races by Mat Oxley [English/German/Japanese/Serbian]: Chronicles every race of Vale’s career, enriched with exclusive interviews.
🎥 Documentaries
When asked about a movie about himself, Vale said, “If it’s a bad movie, I’d rather it didn’t exist.” He holds a similarly cautious stance towards documentaries, and has never personally produced a documentary about himself, though perhaps that might change at some point in the future.
Faster (2003) : Premiered at the Festival de Cannes during MotoGP’s golden era, this documentary intriguingly portrays the rivalry between Vale and Max Biaggi.
The Doctor, the Tornado, and the Kentucky Kid (2006) : Focuses on the 2005 season, especially the US Grand Prix, you can see the beautiful yellow livery of Yamaha’s 50th anniversary.
Fastest (2011) : A sequel to Faster.
Hitting the Apex (2015) : Arguably the best MotoGP documentary out there. Vale and Marco riding into the sunset to ‘Wish you were here’ is a poignant moment.
Valentino Rossi: The Doctor (2016) : Produced by Monster Energy, primarily illustrating how Vale expanded his empire step by step.
Racing Together (2017): MotoGP history isn’t complete without its greatest icon, Vale features for about 15 minutes.
Valentino’s Secret Room: Inside the Doctor’s Hidden Archive (2020) : Produced by Dainese, revealing Vale’s personal collection.
Ruta 46 – Ruta 93: El camino de dos mitos (2021) : Produced by DAZN España, unfortunately I haven’t seen it yet – if you have, let me know how it tells the tale.
Tales of Valentino (2021) : A nine-episode documentary series produced by Dorna, showcasing different aspects of Vale’s career through nine significant races.
RiVale | Valentino Rossi as Told by His Rivals (2021) : Produced by DAZN Italia featuring Vale’s main rivals (except Marc), sharing their stories with him.
Rossi | BT Sport Documentary on the Career of MotoGP Icon, Valentino Rossi (2022) : Produced by BT Sport following Vale’s retirement, highlighted by Suzi Perry’s captivating hosting style.
MotoGP Unlimited (2022) : No need for a lengthy introduction – it’s probably already been watched by everyone by now.
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thissying · 1 year
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And what about your language barrier? Do you speak fluent Italian?
"No. That's not mandatory. We mainly communicate in English and that works fine. No French or German either. A little Dutch: stroopwafels, Nyck de Vries, Max Verstappen and a swear word."
- NOS interview with Yuki, part two (part one)
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mysticficti0n · 1 year
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All my attention Part 6
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warnings- swearing, drinking, flirting, dirty talk to the max, Degrading but not in a mean way?
words- 3.3k
If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series
a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well
(also would you guys want me to do smut for this? I don't have to if you don't want it but... I could write some good pieces for the next few chapters?????)
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backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?
Everyone arrived by 8:50 and were all seated around a extremely large table, each family sat drinking and laughing over different things, on our side of the table (meaning me, Tom, Gustav, Gustav's grandpa, Georg and Bill) we all chatted about random ideas we had for the next shows
"good evening, could we get you all started on food?" a man around my mothers age smiled pulling a note pad out and a pen
"yes can we have-" Stefan schafer, Gustav's dad began pointing to things on the menu and pointing to the people who wanted it "-perfect thank you" the man nodded collecting all the menus in and the chatter began again, me and Tom sat across from our grandmas who were on about something they'd watched on tv
"I'm bored" Tom whispered in my ear causing me to roll my eyes
"we've been here 20 minuets" he sighed falling back into his chair and his grandma seemed to notice turning to him
"Tom- whats wrong darling?" the boy sat properly again and took a swig of his drink
"nothing just hungry" he spoke watching the old women tilt her head "...I'm bored" Catrina nodded looking to me
"you have Y/n/n for company, she's a lot of fun aren't you?" I nodded my head looking to the boy who just laughed "oh actually me and Josie were just saying- we watched your interview! with that hunky man Karter, you two looked delightful, well all of you did" she grinned rubbing my hand over the table
"yeah.." Tom trailed getting comfy again, reaching arm the back of my seat and playing with the ends of my hair "we wont be going back to him in a rush"
"why not?" my gran asked "he's a handsome man"
"nothing to worry about Nanna" I spoke smiling to her, she can become a very angry women if she found out someone did anything bad to us, she'd personally hunt them down if she could.
Time passed slowly but the smell of food only made us hungrier, Toms hand had moved from my hair to my shoulder drawing a circle over and over
"and here we are-" the same waiter came over with two others holding trays of food, there was 21 of us.. we all sat straight and the small laughter of my sister caused us all to laugh, I had the pesto tortellini with Parmesan, and many also copied me
"thank you" we all said starting our meal, I dug my fork in and bought the steamy pasta to my mouth "oh wow thats amazing" I hummed putting more onto the fork, Tom looked over then to the bowl and back to me "you chose to have the chicken Schnitzel, I said about this"
"oh please!" he moaned "one bite- you can have some chips" he quickly stabbed his fork into the fries and brought them to me "come on"
"fine" I gave into his ways and took the chips and past him my fork with the pasta on the end, he hummed a quick thank you and smiled tasting the food "good right?" Tom nodded swallowing the pasta, I turned back to eating and listening to the different conversations around the table
"you know I was thinking about something" Bill began looking down to us on the table "a tv show, like filming while in rehearsals and we could go round during tours and trying things... Felix said about it" The idea of being filmed 24/7 didn't sound fantastic, I enjoy my privacy but.. if that means we get to do fun stuff..
"who'd wanna watch us though, outside of music were just boring" Gustav added "you could do a documentary about every girl Toms fucked" Gustav's mom slammed his hand making us all laugh
"at least they'd say they came unlike the girls you've done" Tom hit back making the drummer huff "but I like the idea-" Georg nodded as well but I still sat undecided
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(okay I cba to write about the restaurant but lets say, lovely meal hugs kisses etc)
"Oh why don't we go to that bar" Simone pointed out, the bars name was naughty lad and music was booming through the walls, the boys seemed intrigued looking through the steamed windows
"I think we'll head back with the grandparents, Stella is nearly asleep so could you bring Y/n back?" my mom asked passing my sister to my dad
"sure, we'll keep her safe don't worry" David, Georg's dad spoke wrapping an arm around me "you get home and relax" with a quick hug my parents got into the car and drove away leaving me with the boys and their parents which wasn't unusual, having a younger sister makes life harder to always enjoy. Together we all walked into the bar and 'hot in here' by Nelly was blasting through the speakers
"drinks?" Bill asked pulling his wallet out "Guessing a vodka coke for you?" I laughed seeing Bill roll his eyes "you need to try more- I'm getting you something else"
"Get me whatever she has!" Tom shouted to his brother who nodded walking to the rest of the group who found themselves sat at a booth "wanna smoke quickly?" I agreed feeling his hand wrap around my wrist and pull me back out the door, he went into his pocket pulling his cigarets out and handing me one with his lighter
"thank you" I chirped lighting the end and then his "I can't get over you tonight" I spoke catching myself at the end
"its alright babe, you can take it off me later" his voice turned suggestive and a smirk plastered his face "aww turning red aren't you?" his free hand cupped my jaw and I felt my knees go weak at his touch- what was he doing
"shut up-" I groaned pushing him away jokingly "I was trying to be nice and say you look good" Toms face softened and nodded along to my words
"I know, but I just love making you all red for me" he cooed putting a hand on my waist "it makes you even more beautiful" Tom leaned in, my heart started pounding in my chest, is this what he meant by being 'worse' I knew I wanted to kiss him again as he closed the distance between us, our lips just inches apart, he hesitated. With a sly grin, he pulled back, leaving the me confused "don't want to be caught do we?" I narrowed my eyes seeing him chuckle "aw did you want me to kiss you Y/n?"
"its okay, I'll find someone in there who will" his face dropped and his grip on my only tightened "maybe I'll bring them home with us?"
"mhm... I don't think so-" The boy was cut by the long haired bassist peaking his head around the door "what?"
"drinks are here" he pulled the door open wider and the two let me in first, I pushed past people dancing along to the music and trying not to get any type of liquid on my dress, finally the booth came into view and Bill sat smiling reaching for my hand I took it and he pulled me next to him
"okay drink this first then I'll tell you what it is" he shouted over the music, I turned to the drink and saw it was a radioactive green with a yellow hue, I picked up the champagne coup and brought it to my lips taking a sip
"Ugh What the fuck is that!" I called nearly heaving at the taste of something like black liquorish
"Death In The Afternoon! I thought you'd like it!" a smile creeped onto his face as he took the glass and finished it "let me get you another one!" The boy pleaded
"come on Y/n don't be boring!" Gustav laughed swigging his arm around me
"fine but I don't want that shit ever again" soon I watched the tallest twin wonder to the bar and point to something on the menu clapping his hands as the bar man turned away "oh- whats that?" I asked seeing the black haired boy smirking holding a small glass fully yellow but with some red falling into the glass, speaking of the glass it had a slice of lemon and mint dotted on top
"this is a Mai Tai" Bill said handing me the drink and watched me as I sipped at the liquid, I hummed at the taste of Malibu and orange running down my throat
"wow this is good" I drank more seeing the singer do a small dance knowing he'd defeated my 'vodka coke' love
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I sat in the booth wedged between Simone and Bill who were laughing about something stupid and I was on my 5th mai tai giggling when something funny was mentioned, I wasn't drunk but I was tipsy, I saw Simone leave the conversation and look to the dance floor "OH MY GOD!" She got up running to the floor pulling me along with her
"SIMO-" I began but then I herd it 'don't stop the music' by Rihanna start to play, ever since the song came out earlier in the year me and her loved it, we danced around with large smiles painted across our faces "I wanna take you away Let's escape into the music DJ, let it play I just can't refuse it" Simone grabbed my hand spinning me around while still belting out the lyrics "Please don't stop the music!" we finished laughing loudly and sweat running down our foreheads I looked to the booth to see them all clapping at our stupidness we took a bow and Simone went to sit down next to her boyfriend who she wrapped her arms around and kissed making her sons cringe and I decided id go sit next to Tom- we'd barley spoke since we had that smoke out side, he was sat holding a glass of clear liquid and rolling his eyes over at his brother
"hey!" I called sliding myself next to him in the booth
"hi- you okay?" I nodded my head grabbing my drink of the table and In a quick swig finishing It off "you might wanna slow down on them" the boy laughed pulling my empty glass from me but I couldn't understand a word as the music got louder around me
"what? I didn't hear you!" he rolled his eyes but quickly moved closer, the arm around my shoulder moved to hold my bare thigh as he leaned into my ear
"I said, you might wanna slow down on the mai tai" his fingers tapped on my skin causing a odd sensation I'd never felt before shiver up my body, they danced on my leg edging to go just slightly under my skirt but he stopped everytime
"oh-oh yeah... well wanna go to the bar and help me chose something different?" Tom nodded and the two of us stood back up, he grabbed my hand, closing his fingers tightly around mine and pulled me through the crowd, yanking me when I stopped, as we got to the bar he pulled me a bar stool out making me sit in front of him while he stood close behind, his stomach on my back and his one hand on my waist
"you like the fruitier cocktails right?" I nodded my head looking at the menu and something caught my eye- The Blue Hawaii, rum, vodka Blue curacao, pineapple juice and Lemon juice
"I think I want the blue Hawaii!" I looked back to the dreaded boy who nodded his head pulling his wallet out "no Tom, let me pay!" I hurried into my purse to grab the €10 I needed
"Y/n fuck off, I'm buying me and drink and you one- put the money away" he huffed grabbing my money and shoving it back into the bag "let me treat you babe" my heart ached at the words and so I let him do what he wanted and I just leaned back on him and waited to be served. The bartender finally turned to us and grabbed a bottle of something "erm can we have a blue Hawaii and a vodka cranberry, thanks" Tom handed the money over me, his chest pressing on me and his other hand back on my thighs for support
"be 5 mins" the man behind the counter said before walking off to the other side of the bar
"I need a piss, stay here don't move alright?" Tom commanded, quickly patting my head like I was some kind of dog and running to the bathroom, I sat kicking my legs watching others conversations and giggling to who ever they're with
"hey.. anyone sitting here?" I turned to a voice I'd never herd before and saw a man stood there holding a empty glass
"no! you can sit don't worry" a small laugh left him and he perched onto the chair and I finally got to see his face, He's very good looking, I couldn't help but admire his features. something about him that made him stand out from the rest, his black hair and brown eyes. His hair is perfectly styled in little waves along his head, and it shines in the light. I found myself staring to his smile. It's warm and inviting, i can't help but smile back. It's infectious.
"thanks, I'm Brandon- thought I'd introduce myself so I'm not creepy" I laugh at him as I turn to speak to him better
"oh I'm Y/n, my seat will be free soon once me and my mate have our drinks" I spoke still just admiring him, it might've been the alcohol but he was gorgeous
"shame, I'm enjoying this- little old me speaking to a beautiful girl.. I say old- I'm not I'm 19, you?"" I blushed to his words
"oh 17 but I get mixed up with being either 23 or 13 most days" he chuckled at my comment
"where you from anyways?"
"Leipzig, you?" he nodded his head
"Dresden" we kept speaking till mine and Tom's drinks arrived and I quickly grabbed them "so who are you here with?"
"just my friends and some family- celebrating coming home- actually my friend should be here soon" I looked back and I saw Tom staring at me with a scowl across his face "oh erm, he's over there so I might see you later?" I smiled grabbing the drinks off the table
"yeah sure, maybe I can get your number and we could go out for drinks?" he sounded so sweet and eyes bright with hope, but I knew I had to be careful giving my number out for security reasons and also I think Tom would kill me
"maybe yeah!" I laughed it off as I walked over to he boy who looked through me to Brandon, crossing his arms "how long were you stood watching me?" I asked passing him his drink
"long enough" his seriousness scared me, what was his issue "he really liked you didn't he? eyes wondered you like a fucking map" he spat gulping his drink basically in one
"Tom I think you're being a bit dramatic, he didn't even flirt with me" it was a partial lie as he did ask for my number...
"still-" I saw the guitarist sulk a little sipping the last of his drink and staring into the distance and that when I realised it
"are... are you jealous?" his eyes shot up to me but he didn't fight my words, and I wanted to keep pushing him "come on, you can tell me" I fluttered my eyelashes at the boy who just looked away, without thinking my hand reached for his jaw and brought his gaze back to me, I was shocked with myself but I couldn't lose my control now "look at me when I'm talking to you" I spoke closer to him in a low whisper, his eyes seemed deeper and narrower, I was doing it "you don't like it when I speak to other guys hm? don't like them looking at me, thinking of me...touching me" I let the last words roll of my tongue and I could see behind his stare he was getting angrier "talk to me pretty boy"
My hand was swatted from his face as Tom pulled me by my wrist back into the cubicles, each small individual rooms with a crappy dim light glaring into the room, hurriedly we went to the first unlocked block and slammed the door closed and he locked it with a click, my back pressed against the cold tile wall and Tom stood over me I close my eyes as his lips press against mine. His hands moved around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he wrapped his arms around me. His lips soft and perfect, his breath warm on my skin. I can feel my heart racing as we move together, our bodies intertwined. His hands move higher, caressing my back as we kiss. I can feel my skin tingling with anticipation as I move my hands up his chest, exploring his body. I can feel the electricity between us, the passion rising.
"You- you are a little cunt sometimes" I feel him smile into my cheek pressing kisses into my skin "but.. fuck we both know you'd never want them...as much as you want me" I hold my breath at the feeling of him humming into my ear, my arms tangle around his neck pulling him back to my lips "god you are so desperate for me" I pull back slightly opening my eyes and seeing a smirk plastering his face
"who's the one that dragged me into here?" he tilted his head in agreement but I could wait any longer, our lips smashed back together and our bodies collided once again, hungrily I moved down to his jaw peppering the line with kisses and edged down to his neck, my lips danced around until I reached just below his ear and his grip on me tightened and a noise threatened to escape his throat, I dove back into the spot sucking and pecking at it, hearing him struggle and try pry me off
"fuck Y/n- please" he begged "shit... I-I" his stuttering made my heart swell and I pulled away to see small beads of sweat forming, I looked to his eyes and they were full of glazed tears of lust
"aw- I'm sorry, didn't you like it?" I played with a strand of his hair as he shook his head no
"I fucking loved it" his lips landed back on me as he groaned into the kiss, I smiled feeling his hands go under my thighs and lift me onto his hips, my dress pushing up revealing the red panties I put on earlier "shit you are so hot" the boy whined kissing my chest, nibbling lightly at the skin
"ah- Tom" His eyes caught mine again and smile only spread further, my hands grabbed his shoulders pushing myself up and he only toyed with me more, licking my skin that was sore from being between his teeth and small noises seeped from my mouth only pushing him further "shit... Fuck Tommy- I..." his nickname came out so naturally but in the sluttiest moan I'd ever done
" God Y/n, I don't what the first place we fuck to be in a bathroom baby, so keep that pretty little mouth quiet because you're making it so hard to keep that from happening" my heart nearly exploded out my chest, I went like putty, foreheads knocking together at his words, Tom caught my lips In one last sweet kiss and put me back onto the floor "so beautiful-" Tom whispered into my ear one last time before pulling away still holding my waist
"only for you" I smiled kissing him once more again before we stood there holding each other panting and puffy lipped
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umlewis · 2 months
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lewis hamilton, p3, is interviewed during the post-race press conference, hungary - july 21, 2024 (transcript under the cut)
Interviewer: "Lewis, coming to you. 200 podiums. What a score, what a trophy cabinet. Now, you've often said that you're not into statistics, but this surely means something?" Lewis: "The number doesn't, no. I mean, I just think about these two and how young these guys are. [laughs] They were in nappies when I started, so… [laughs] No, honestly, it just makes me think about the whole journey and all the great people I've had the chance to work with. I got signed by McLaren when I was thirteen, and so there was always so much love for that team and through the journey that we had where I had my first world championship, and then they went through a really difficult time. To see them back up there is really, really great. I'm really happy to… That's my old family, so really, really grateful to be up here with them. And then ultimately I think it was a tough race today, and I definitely didn't think I would be having 200 podiums, but… What have I done, like 340-something races, so not too bad a score. But I couldn't have done it without all those great people that I've worked with in both these teams." Interviewer: "Lewis, many congratulations. You've got to go to the stewards very shortly, so I'm gonna open this to the floor, and can we start with any questions to Lewis, please. Any questions for Lewis, before he heads to the stewards. Yup."
Journalist: "Sorry. Luke Smith from The Athletic. Lewis, could you talk through the touch with Max? He obviously made that move down the inside, you guys touched. He was on the radio saying about you were moving under braking. Could you talk through your side of it, please?" Lewis: "Yeah. [laughs] No, I think… I mean, from what I can remember, obviously we passed a backmarker, I got to the braking zone, then Max appeared, to overtake the car behind me, so I moved over to defend. I left enough room in the inside, but Max locked up and he was going a different trajectory to me. I was going towards, around the corner, and he came shooting across, so… It felt like a racing incident, and it's easy to make mistakes like that, and so I don't feel there should be any hostility. But, of course, from his side there always will be." Interviewer: "Alright. Any more for Lewis, please?" Norris: [unintelligible] Lewis: [laughs]
Journalist: "Hi. My name is Jannik Sauer. I work for a German news website called Watson. I was wondering, because you have this little fan laying next to you, especially after a hot race like today, there were some headlines in the past few days about the FIA planning to implement some sort of cooling for the cockpit and the drivers. So you are surprised, I see. Do you have any opinion on that?" Lewis: "Well, firstly, I didn't know that, and it's not needed. This is Formula 1. It's always been like this. It's tough in these conditions, and we're highly paid athletes, and you've got to train your ass off to make sure you can withstand the heat, ultimately. And it's tough-it's not easy, especially when you go to places like Qatar [laughs] and Singapore-but I don't think we need an AC unit in the car." Interviewer: "Thank you. Any more for Lewis? Yup, we can do one more."
Journalist: "Florian Niedermair, from Motorsport-magazin.com. About your race pace in general, did you expect before the race to be battling with Max, or was it a surprise for you, especially given the conditions?" Lewis: "No, I think out of pure pace, we weren't. Unfortunately we're still not, in hot conditions particularly… So you saw in Austria and here, we're not able to keep up with these guys. But in stint one I was really surprised to see that I was able to hold on to Max, and I wasn't even having to push too hard to stay around a second behind him, so I thought at that point that maybe I was in for a chance of at least fighting for that place. But then in the second stint it was a bit of a disaster. It didn't feel good [laughs] and the true pace of the car started to show, I think, on those tires. But we obviously got the undercut, and track position is clearly key on this track, and I think that really, ultimately made the difference." Interviewer: "Thank you, Lewis. Any more? Okay. Lewis, we'll let you go. Thank you very much."
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determinate-negation · 11 months
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The logic of cultural assimilation and the desire to climb the ladder of prestige led the Jewish bourgeoisie to send its sons to the University, especially towards the end of the nineteenth century:
“Just like the majority of German businessmen, Jews wanted to climb socially… They wanted their sons and sons-in-law to be more valued than they were. A career as an officer or as a high-ranking government official, which were the goals of a young Christian man, was closed to Jews … only university studies were open to him.”
As a result, in 1895 Jews comprised 10% of the student body in German universities, which was ten times the percentage of Jews in the overall population (1.05%). This massive presence of bourgeois Jewish youth in higher education quickly led to the formation of a new social category: the Jewish intelligentsia. Jewish intellectuals of German culture had, of course, existed since the late eighteenth century (Moses Mendelssohn), but it was only at the end of the nineteenth century that the phenomenon became so widespread as to constitute a new social fact. These Jewish intellectuals, déclassé, unstable and free of any precise social attachment, were a typical example of the sozialfreischwebende Intelligenz that Mannheim spoke of. Their condition was eminently contradictory: deeply assimilated yet largely marginalized; linked to German culture yet cosmopolitan; uprooted and at odds with their business and bourgeois milieu of origin; rejected by the traditional rural aristocracy yet excluded in career terms within their natural sphere of acceptance (the university). In a state of ideological availability, they were soon attracted to the two principal poles of German cultural life, which could be named after the famous characters from Thomas Mann’s Magic Mountain: ‘Settembrini’, the liberal, democratic and republican philanthropist, and ‘Naphta’, the conservative/revolutionary romantic.
For many young Jewish intellectuals, rationalism, progressive evolutionism, Aufklärung and neo-Kantian philosophy became the primary reference, in some cases combined with a Judaism that was diluted or reduced to monotheist ethics (Hermann Cohen). From this world-view several political options were available, ranging from moderate liberalism (the ideology of the Jewish bourgeoisie itself), to social democracy (Eduard Bernstein), Marxism (Max Adler, Otto Bauer and the Austrian Marxists) and even Communism (Paul Levi, Ruth Fischer, Paul Frölich, August Thalheimer).
Nevertheless, at the turn of the century, anti-capitalist romanticism was the dominant movement within the culture of Mitteleuropa. Sociologically speaking, it was inevitable that a significant portion of the new university-trained Jewish intelligentsia would be attracted by the romantic critique of industrial civilization: ‘Naphta!’ The intelligentsia eagerly discovered the nostalgic and anti-bourgeois Weltanschauung predominant in academia – notably in the Geisteswissenschaften (Humanities), where the majority of Jewish students enrolled. These students subsequently rejected their fathers’ business careers, revolted against their bourgeois family milieu and aspired intensely to an ‘intellectual life style’. This generational break, which many Jewish intellectuals speak of in their autobiographies, opposed the anti-bourgeois youth – passionately interested in Kultur, spirituality, religion and art – to their entrepreneurial parents – merchants or bankers, moderate liberals and good German patriots, indifferent to religious matters. In a recent autobiographical interview, Leo Löwenthal, the Frankfurt School sociologist of literature, summarized the feeling that was common among many intellectuals of his generation: ‘My family household, as it were, was the symbol of everything I did not want – shoddy liberalism, shoddy Aufklärung, and double standards.’
Redemption and Utopia: Jewish Libertarian Thought in Central Europe, Michael Löwy
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foggieststars · 4 months
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ooh i'll be greedy and say 🖊 <33
sdkjfkjdhsf for you anon a winner's room snippet! <3
Max watches Charles on the podium and grits his teeth. That - it should have been him. That third place had been Max’s for the taking. 
He’s snappish and irritable with the media, stopping just short of calling Seb names. Only then, it’s because he knows his team will get cross with him for it, and Max can’t be bothered to deal with that. So he bites his tongue.
Until Charles looks over at him in the media pen, smiling with smug victory. He raises his eyebrows at Max, and - oh, okay. Max gets it. That was for Austria. For the blowjob or for the move, Max isn’t sure.
And so when a reporter from Sky asks him about his battle with Charles, says, it looked like you were having fun out there, Max can’t stop himself. 
“I think he was a little bit sore still, from Austria,” Max says, with a face like thunder. If the stewards won’t punish Charles for his move, Max thinks somebody should. People should know, people should realise that Charles’ move was unfair. It wasn’t racing, it was revenge. 
He’s waiting for Nico to finish with some of the German press, sipping from his water bottle and trying not to sulk too obviously when Charles comes up to him. He’s practically vibrating on the spot, hair dripping champagne onto his race suit.
“Sorry about your race, mate,” Charles says. His eyes are everywhere, darting around for somebody who wants to speak to him. Somebody better than him, Max supposes. 
Max scowls at Charles. “Are you really?” he asks, and Charles finally looks directly at him.
“Of course,” Charles says, beaming at him. He claps Max on the shoulder as he walks past, heading off to another interview. And then, pitched low, so that only Max can hear: “I wanted to be the one to crash you out.”
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