#platonic!george

[painlandpalace]

shes a lesbian hes gay and their 33 year marriage will change your perception of love

[aquitainequeen]

Here I am, hours later, still crying about Furiosa and Praetorian Jack. George Miller, Nico Lathouris, Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke are geniuses. They completely sold me on just how much these characters loved each other.

Furiosa coming out of a nightmare, wielding a knife, to be caught by Jack. He doesn’t say it’s all right or that she’s safe, she doesn’t say it was just a bad dream. They don’t say anything. Jack eases her back down to her cot and they settle down, aware of each other.

Jack stitching up Furiosa’s shoulder in a hidden spot in the Citadel, Furiosa showing Jack the peach seed that she’s kept hidden in her hair for so long, proving that the Green Place is out there, asking him to come with her, pressing her forehead to his while cupping the back of his head, showing him her love in the manner of her people, and him returning the gesture. After fifteen years, she’s finally going home, and he’s coming with her.

And then...

Spoilers beyond here!!!

And then:

The battle of the Bullet Farm, which is where the strength and force of their love really started to batter me. Furiosa manages to avoid the ambush and get out of the Farm before the gate closes, and Jack could easily have slipped through the gate to join her, but he sees the enemy forces mustering and knows they’ll quickly be hunted down if there's nothing to stop their pursuers. He shoots off a green flare that clearly tells Furiosa to abandon him and get the hell out of there, intending to sacrifice himself so that she has a chance to escape and set off for the Green Place. Furiosa does drive off, but gets maybe five metres before she decides ‘fuck this’ and goes back in to try and save him. And she saves him from his pursuers and she saves him from falling to his death, and they get to their escape vehicle and drive off, with nary a word spoken or exchanged until they’re on the flat and heading for freedom. And even then, all that’s mentioned is what direction they should take to reach the Green Place. That's it. They don’t need anything else. They survived, they got out, they're together, they’re going to be all right.

And they almost make it. They almost get away.

When they’re captured by Dementus and forced onto their knees, there’s no special close up on them; mostly they’re on the edge of the shot while Dementus is ranting centre stage or screaming into their faces. They pay no heed to him. That love infuriates Dementus. He shrieks, he tears at them, but he can’t break them. He doesn’t matter. What matters is that they spend their last moments touching each other, leaning into each other, pressing their foreheads together, breathing deep, loving each other.

There are no parting words between Furiosa and Jack, no declarations or promises or screams of despair, but it hit me so hard and cut so deep that the second to last time we see Jack’s face, he’s craning desperately to see what’s happening to Furiosa, trying to get one final precious glimpse of her, before he’s quite literally dragged to his awful death.

We don’t see Furiosa’s reaction to her torture on multiple fronts, as she is strung up by her maimed arm and forced to watch Jack die. We’ve seen her scream and weep for her mother, but this moment is hers alone. It’s not for us.

How fitting it is that Jack saves Furiosa one last time, as his execution distracts Dementus and his crew from noticing that Furiosa has cut off her own arm to escape.

The last time we see Jack’s face is in Furiosa’s last nightmare.

Furiosa doesn’t mention Jack in her final showdown with Dementus, when she screams about her mother and her stolen childhood. But from what’s shown to us, I think that the spot in the Citadel when she imprisons Dementus and grows the peach tree in the midst of his emaciated, maggot-ridden body…is the same place where Jack stitched up her wounded shoulder, where she showed him the peach seed, where she asked him to come with her to the Green Place and he accepted, where she showed him her love in the manner of her people, where they embraced. Where she avenged herself and Jack, upon the man who destroyed their lives.

Where Furiosa now plucks the first fruit of the tree to bring to the Five Wives, whom she will bring with her to the Green Place.   

[formula-nyoom]

Grid Graduation

Platonic!Grid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being a racecar driver and actively pursuing a higher education is a feat in and of itself. You didn't let your career get in the way of going to college. But when racing seems to prevent you from attending your graduation ceremony, your fellow drivers decide to take matters into their own hands

A/N: Congratulations to all the people that are graduating this month or next month! I hope you guys have amazing celebrations. And to my fellow college students who still have a year or years left to go, we’re going to get through it, even if it seems like hell. I know that the color of the graduation gowns can vary by college or are usually black but I went with dark blue because that was the color of my gown when I got my associates degree. 

~~~

Some people would say it's stupid to try and get a bachelor’s degree while being a race car driver. 

“You already have a career. Why would you spend all your free time off track pursuing something you don’t really need?” is the question that was constantly asked to you during interviews. Your answer: because it was important to you. It’s common knowledge that karting and racing takes up most of a driver’s life. And while most drivers are able to pursue basic schooling and education during their karting days and early single seater days, once a driver makes it higher up the racing ladder, pursuing an education becomes second to trying to be the best race car driver on track. 

You on the other hand felt that your pursuit of racing should not get in the way of your education. And thankfully with the ability to take online classes, you didn’t have that worry. 

“You’ve refreshed that page five times in the last 30 seconds.” Alex said as you two sat in the drivers lounge. It was media day so thankfully neither of you had to worry about racing and instead your worry was focused on something else.

 “Can you blame me? I’m supposed to get sent an email that tells me whether or not I graduate today and I’m dying to know.” You said, refreshing the page again. You had finally completed all the required courses you needed to graduate and get your bachelors degree. Now you were just waiting for the confirmation that all the hard work, all the study sessions you had done between and after races, and all the all nighters was worth it. 

 “Have you gotten the email yet?” You looked up from your laptop to see Logan approaching with Oscar behind him. You refreshed the page again.

 “Nope. Still nothing.” You let out a frustrated sigh. All the other drivers knew about your pursuit of a college education while also being a race car driver. They had been nothing but supportive in your efforts and could tell how worried you were about having to wait for your college’s final decision on you graduating.

 “The email will come eventually. Staring at the screen isn’t going to help.” Oscar said. 

“I suppose you’re right.” You said, refreshing the page again. You were about to close your laptop, putting the matter temporarily to rest, when the page loaded and showed you had a new email. It was from your college.

 “It’s here!” You exclaimed. You were about to open the email when you paused your finger over the mouse pad.

“I don’t think I can open this. What if they deny me? Or what if this email tells me that I still have some courses that I need to pass to graduate?” You started nervously chewing on your bottom lip as worst case scenarios started to run through your head. Logan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder

 “(Y/N), you’ve been working your ass off the past couple years to get this degree. They’d be stupid to not let you graduate.” Logan said. 

 “I can read the email for you first if you want.” Alex offered. That seemed to calm your nerves. You handed Alex the laptop and waited with bated breath as he opened the email. Anticipation started to build as it seemed to take forever for Alex to read the first line of the email

“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate!” Alex exclaimed.

 “Really?” You grabbed the laptop and read the first line of the email that did indeed confirm that you were graduating. Logan and Oscar started to shake your shoulders in excitement as you started to laugh from happiness.

 “I’m graduating!” You exclaimed. Logan, Alex and Oscar let out cheers of excitement as you read the first lines of the email again.

“What’s with the excitement?” Charles asked as he and Max entered the driver’s lounge.

 “(Y/N) got the confirmation that she’s graduating college.” Alex said.

“Congratulations!”Max said. He ruffled your hair while Charles gave you a hug. You were practically beaming with happiness as you started to read the email out loud. 

“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate! We commend you for this amazing accomplishment and we’d like you to attend the graduation ceremony on….June 7th.” Your voice trailed off after reading the date and your smile slowly started to drop.

 “Are you gonna go?” Oscar asked. You shook your head.

“I can’t. We’ll all be in Canada for Free Practice.” You said. It was true. Your college’s graduation ceremony was the same week of the Canadian Grand Prix.

 “Do you think your team will let you go?” Alex asked. “I mean, you’ve done Canada multiple times and you’ll do it again. But you only really graduate college once, especially considering you're a race car driver.”

 “I don’t think (Y/N)’s team will let her go. Free Practice isn’t something you can really miss.” Max said. He was right. Attending a graduation ceremony seemed like a trivial matter compared to your career. 

 “But (Y/N)’s worked so hard for this. Surely her team will understand.” Logan said.

“No, it’s…it’s ok if I miss the graduation ceremony. I’ve been given confirmation that I’m graduating and will get my diploma in the mail later this year. That’s enough for me.” You told them. But that wasn’t really true. You would have liked to attend the ceremony. If not for just the celebration but also for the sense of normalcy away from the racetrack and responsibilities of being a Formula One driver. 

 “Well we can still celebrate right? Maybe get all the drivers together for a dinner?” Charles suggested. You smiled a bit.

 “Yea Charles. A dinner would be nice. This is still a cause for a celebration. Even if I can’t go to the official one.”

Dinner with the other drivers was a nice celebration. It helped you forget about not being able to attend the graduation ceremony for a while. But the week of the Canadian Grand Prix seemed to bring up that fact again. It seemed the media wanted to remind you too.

 “Well, before we start taking questions, I’d like to say congratulations to you, (Y/N). It was recently let known that you’ve graduated college and now have a bachelor's degree.” The media commentator for the drivers press conference said to you as you sat on a couch next to George, Lando, Lewis, and Zhou. 

“Thank you. If I didn't have to be here in Canada, I'd actually be attending the graduation ceremony, which is happening tomorrow. But racing takes priority.” You smiled to hide some of your disappointment, but the other drivers seemed to notice.

 “I’m sure you and your family are proud of all your efforts. Maybe some of the drivers too?” The interviewer said, motioning to the drivers next to you.

“I’m insanely proud of (Y/N) for what she’s accomplished. She’s shown that racing shouldn’t get in the way of pursuing an education.” Lewis said.

 “I will say, (Y/N) has worked harder than anyone else on the grid.” Zhou said. 

“She won’t admit it herself though.” George said, nudging your side. You shook your head.

“In terms of something like this, even if I can’t attend a graduation ceremony, I’m proud of all the work I’ve done.” You said.

 “Well, I hope you celebrate or have already celebrated what is an immense accomplishment.” The interviewer said.

 “Me and the other drivers on the grid actually went out to dinner to celebrate the day I found out I was graduating to make up for the fact that I can’t attend the ceremony. It was a really nice dinner and I’m glad I have friends to celebrate my accomplishments with.” You smiled at your friends sitting next to you. They smiled back, but for a different reason. 

Despite your efforts to hide your disappointment, your fellow drivers could tell how upset you were about not being able to attend your graduation ceremony. And while the dinner was indeed nice, they wanted you to have a proper celebration for such an immense accomplishment.

That’s how George and Lando ended up knocking on your driver’s room door after interviews and media responsibilities were done for the day.

 “Hey guys. What’s up?” You asked as you opened the door for them.

“Put this on.” Lando handed you a bag with what you assumed had to contain clothing.

 “Why? What is it that you have handed me?” You gave him a skeptical look.

“Open the bag and find out.” Lando said. You did as he instructed and pulled out something made of dark blue fabric. At first you thought it was a dress, but unfurling it revealed to be a graduation gown. You tried not to frown. The only need for something like this would be for graduation photos, which you had already taken. But Lando and George were insistent and you decided to amuse their idea for now and put it on.

“Now what? You want me to get into a race car and drive around the track in a graduation gown?” George and Lando just laughed.

 “I don’t think the FIA will allow that. At least not in just the gown.” Lando said.

“Of course you can’t have the gown without the cap.”  George handed you a graduation cap with a tassel in your team color. The cap was decorated with a little race car on top that had a diploma trailing behind it. 

 “What’s…what’s all this for?” You asked, while putting the cap on. You don’t know why you decided to put the cap on, but did so anyway.

“It’s for your graduation ceremony of course.” Lando said. You frowned.

 “There’s no way I can attend that ceremony.” You said.

“We’re not talking about your college’s graduation ceremony. We’re talking about the one that’s happening right now.” George said. “Come on.”

George and Lando ushered you out of your driver’s room and started to lead you somewhere. You still looked at them with confusion. 

 “We already celebrated during that dinner.”

“But it wasn’t a proper ceremony.” Lando said, leading you towards the track entrance. By now, you were starting to suspect what George and Lando were up to. It wasn’t confirmed until they led you to the start line.

“You guys did not….” Rows and rows of chairs were set up on the track with a makeshift aisle in the middle. Each chair was filled with one of your fellow drivers or members of your team. Tears started to well up in your eyes at the realization of what was happening. 

 “We wanted you to have a proper graduation ceremony.” Lando said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a side hug. Now you were trying really hard not to cry.

 “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting for you.” George said. He and Lando walked you past all chairs, the drivers and team members applauding you as you walked past. 

Lewis and Fernando were standing at what was designated the stage and greeted you with a hug and a whispered “congratulations” as you approached. 

 “Shall we get started then?” Lewis, who had been designated the commencement speaker, said to get everyone’s attention. Everyone quieted down and took a seat

“We are gathered here to recognize the immense accomplishments of (Y/N) (L/N) in her pursuit of a higher education in the form of a bachelor's degree. Not only has she strived for what many have wanted to achieve, but did so while also managing the life of a Formula One driver. That is something not many can do.” Lewis said.

 “I now ask for Fernando to present the graduate with their diploma.” Fernando walked over to you and handed you a piece of paper, then the two of you shook hands as formality of a traditional graduation ceremony while George quickly snapped a photo. You looked at the “diploma” that was handed to you and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was a diploma template that you could find on the internet that included your name and the name of your college. Though the official seal had your team logo on it. 

“I now ask the graduate of 2024, to move your tassel from right to left and signify your newfound graduation status.” Lewis said. By now, it was getting really hard to try and keep the tears in as you moved the tassel from right to left. Lewis smiled.

 “It is my pleasure to present (Y/N) (L/N) as the grid’s graduating class of 2024.” Everyone stood up and applauded you. At this point you couldn’t keep the tears in any longer and started to cry but also cheer. Lewis pulled you into a hug, followed by Fernando, then Lando and George and it got to the point of just being a big group hug full of drivers.

 “Go on, toss the cap!” Logan exclaimed once the group hug broke away. Chants of “Toss it! Toss it!” started to echo till you took the graduation cap off and tossed it into the air, signifying that all that hard work was worth it.

[fangirl-dot-com]

logan sargeant x driver!reader

🪩 synopsis: what if Logan's contract was not renewed in December of 2023? Williams makes the decision to sign Formula 2 Champion Theo Pourchaire instead. While on the other side of motor sports, IndyCar driver Y/n L/n is also cast aside like her childhood friend. With the 2024 season approaching, and no seats in sight, how will these two finally show off their skills and prove they have what it takes to be the next motor sports stars? Well, they need a fast team and a reputations era...

🖤Prologue - My Reputation's Never Been Worse

🪩Track 1 - The Beginning of an Era

🐍Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?

🌑Track 3 - Big Reputations (End Game)

😈Track 4 - I Did Something Bad

🍾Track 5 - Don't Blame Me

🥃Track 6 - Delicate

🎩Track 7 - Look What You Made Me Do

🤩Track 8 - Gorgeous

🏎Track 9 - Getaway Car

👑Track 10 - King of My Heart

Track 11 - Dress

Track 12 - Call It What You Want

Track 13 - New Year's Day

Epilogue: What Goes Around, Comes Around

💿Bonus Tracks

[juliangirlblancas]

Photograph + George and Ringo

[sarawayne0510]

Girl Dinner

pairing: George russell x kpop idol! reader

summary: In the fast-paced world of Formula 1, George Russell finds an unexpected escape in Y/N, a Le Sserafim member known for her captivating food vlogs

word count: idk

Genre: SMAU/Fluff

Inspired by my fav youtuber doobydobap <3

George sighed as he sank into the soft cushions of his living room couch, finally able to relax after a long day at the track. His phone buzzed in his hand—another meme from Lando, something about who’s the better driver this week. George rolled his eyes and swiped it away. He was tired of the constant comparisons, the endless questions. Every interview felt like another round of “Who’s better at this or that?” Sometimes, he just needed a break from it all.

He opened YouTube, aimlessly scrolling for something different. His eyes landed on a video thumbnail of a table filled with delicious-looking food, and a girl grinning beside it. The title caught his attention: My Guide to the BEST Street Food in Seoul.

“Why not,” George muttered to himself, tapping on the video.

The screen came to life with vibrant shots of Seoul’s bustling street food scene. Y/N was walking through the streets, introducing various foods with a bright, excited energy. George was immediately hooked. There was something about the way she talked—effortless, funny, and completely herself.

She picked up a small snack, inspecting it before taking a bite. "They’re much smaller than the big ones that are filled with roe," she said, holding up the dish with a mischievous smile, "but just because it's small doesn’t mean it ain’t tasty—and that applies to many things." She winked at the camera, making George choke on his water mid-sip.

He sat up straighter, a grin forming on his face. “What did I just stumble into?”

The video continued with her taking massive bites, describing each dish with vivid details that somehow made George’s mouth water, even though he wasn’t usually into food videos. But it wasn’t just the food—it was her personality. She had this way of making everything seem light and fun, as if the whole world was just a giant playground of flavors.

George leaned back, a smile tugging at his lips. For the first time in a while, he wasn’t thinking about racing or interviews. Just food... and her.

Y/N’s POV

The cameras were rolling, capturing every moment as Y/N and Yunjin stood in front of a colorful street food stall. Today’s challenge for Le Sserafim’s YouTube channel was a mix of dares and foodie adventures, and Yunjin was ready to dive in.

“Welcome back, everyone!” Y/N cheered into the camera. “Today, Yunjin and I are taking on the ultimate street food dare. We’ve got some spicy dishes and a few random dares to complete. Ready, Yunjin?”

Yunjin grinned, nervously holding a skewer of spicy tteokbokki. “Ready as I’ll ever be!”

The first dare popped up on Y/N’s phone: Talk about something you’re passionate about while eating something spicy.

Y/N took a large bite of the tteokbokki, her eyes widening at the heat. “Alright, here we go. So, I’ve got this major passion for cars. I’m fascinated by everything from the sleek designs to the roar of the engines. If I weren’t doing food vlogs and idol stuff, I’d probably be somewhere working with cars. I love the speed, the engineering—just the whole vibe of it.”

Yunjin laughed, struggling to keep her composure as the spice hit her. “You and your cars! I’ve seen you talk about them all the time. And speaking of busy, we’ve got a lot to do before our next tour. Packing, rehearsals... it’s going to be a whirlwind.”

Y/N nodded, wiping her forehead. “Yeah, it’s going to be hectic, but it’s worth it. And who knows, maybe I’ll get a chance to drive something amazing before we head out.”

The challenge continued with both of them trying various spicy dishes and completing their dares, their laughter and camaraderie shining through. The video wrapped up with Y/N and Yunjin excitedly discussing their upcoming tour and the busy schedule ahead.

George’s POV

George was sprawled on the couch in his hotel room, catching a break after the Suzuka GP. His phone buzzed with new content, and he opened one of Y/N’s food vlogs out of curiosity. He was halfway through when Yuki Tsunoda burst into the room with a couple of drinks and a big grin.

“Hey, George!” Yuki exclaimed. “Mind if I join you for a bit?”

“Of course not,” George replied, gesturing to the couch. “I was just watching this food vlogger. She’s really something.”

Yuki flopped down next to him and glanced at the screen. His eyes widened as he recognized Y/N. “Wait, is that Y/N? The food vlogger?”

George nodded, still engrossed in the video. “Yeah, she’s got this great style. I didn’t expect her to be so... engaging.”

Yuki’s expression shifted to one of excitement. “You know, I’ve got to tell you something. You might find this interesting.”

George looked up, curious. “Oh? What’s up?”

Yuki leaned in, a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Y/N... she’s actually a member of a famous K-pop group.”

George blinked in surprise. “What? Are you serious?”

Yuki nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, she’s in Le Sserafim. I didn’t realize you didn’t know. She’s huge worldwide”

George’s eyes widened. “No way. I had no idea. She’s just been this really cool food vlogger to me.”

Yuki chuckled. “Yeah, she’s got this whole other side to her. You should see their music videos. They’re amazing.”

George was intrigued. “You know what, let’s watch some of their stuff.”

Yuki grinned and pulled out his laptop, navigating to Le Sserafim’s music videos. They started with a recent MV, and as the vibrant visuals and catchy beats filled the room, George found himself captivated. Y/N’s stage presence was magnetic, and he was surprised by how much he enjoyed it.

As they moved through the videos, George’s initial surprise turned into admiration. “Wow, I had no idea she was such a star. She’s incredible.”

Yuki nodded. “Yeah, she really is. And she’s so down-to-earth. I think you might be more into her now, huh?”

George laughed, a little embarrassed. “You could say that. She’s definitely caught my attention in a whole new way.”

They spent the next hour watching various clips, George becoming more engrossed in Y/N’s multifaceted talent. By the end of their impromptu viewing session, he was thoroughly impressed and even more intrigued by her.

When the viewing session ended, George picked up his phone and hesitated for a moment before searching for Y/N’s Instagram account. With a smile, he hit the follow button, feeling a newfound connection to the talented and intriguing woman behind the food vlogs.

@georgerussell63

Liked by yukitsunoda0511,alex_albon,pierregassly and others

@georgerussell63 I'm mess in distress but still the best dressed

Thank u @yukitsunoda0511 for the pics🐥

Comments

@alex_albon you went to THE le sserafim consert without me!? Here I thought we were friends

@yukitsunoda0511 😼

@user119 george in his oppa era?🧐

@pierregasly ofc yuki took the pictures u could never take aesthetic picture like that

@user143 wait george be looking extra scrumdelicious lately

@user66 why know one told me george listens to le sserafim 🫢 because that's my mother in 2nd slide

@(your_username)

Liked by @georgerussell63,Calvinklein,jenaissante,le_sserafim and others

@(your_username) Feeling incredibly grateful for the opportunity to work with @CalvinKlein. Thank you for letting me be a part of your incredible collection

George POV

George was in the paddock, taking a moment to relax and scroll through Instagram on his phone. The usual buzz of activity surrounded him as teams prepared for the next race, but George was lost in his own world, scrolling through his feed.

He stumbled across a post from Calvin Klein featuring Y/N in their latest campaign. The photos were stunning—Y/N looked absolutely breathtaking , modern outfits. George’s eyes widened in awe as he saw the images of her effortlessly posing and exuding confidence.

Unable to contain his excitement, George let out an involuntary shout. “Oh my—”

A few of the other drivers, including Yuki, glanced over at him, intrigued by his reaction. Yuki’s lips curled into a knowing smile as he watched George’s enthusiastic response. He had seen George’s interest in Y/N grow over time and found the situation amusing.

Yuki chuckled softly, catching George’s eye. “Looks like someone’s having a fanboy moment,” he teased, fully aware of the reason behind George’s excitement.

George barely registered Yuki’s comment. His mind was racing, and Without a moment's hesitation, His excitement grew as he remembered that Calvin Klein had invited him to their upcoming party. This was the perfect opportunity to get involved, especially with the new collection making waves.

He couldn’t wait any longer. George bolted to his manager’s office, bursting through the door with so much energy that his manager nearly jumped out of his chair.

“H-Hey, George!” his manager stammered, wide-eyed, visibly startled by the sudden entrance. “What’s—what’s happening?”

“I just saw the Calvin Klein collection!” George blurted out, barely able to contain himself. “And we need to say yes to that party invite. Now!”

His manager, still trying to gather himself, blinked rapidly, stumbling over his words. “O-O-Okay! Y-Yes, right away! I’ll...I’ll handle it, no problem.”

George’s enthusiasm didn’t waver as he grinned. “Good! Make it happen!”

The Calvin Klein party was buzzing with energy, fashion icons and celebrities filling the room. George, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, casually sipped his drink as he scanned the room. But then, he saw her—Y/N, effortlessly stunning, standing near a group of people, laughing and engaging in conversation.

It felt as though time had slowed down. The music faded into the background, the buzz of the party muffled, as his gaze locked onto her. Something about the way she carried herself, the confidence and grace, left him frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest, and he knew he had to talk to her. Gathering every ounce of courage, he walked over.

“Hi,” George said, voice surprisingly steady despite the excitement coursing through him.

Y/N turned, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The intensity of their connection hit both of them like a tidal wave. She smiled warmly, and it was as if the world shrunk down to just the two of them.

“Hey, George Russell, right?” Y/N asked, her tone light but with a sparkle of recognition in her eyes.

He grinned, nodding. “Yeah, that’s me. I... uh... saw your Calvin Klein shoot. You absolutely killed it.”

“Thank you!” she laughed softly, clearly flattered. “I’ve actually been getting into Formula 1 recently, so it’s crazy to meet you here.”

His heart skipped a beat. “No way, really? You’ve been watching the races?”

“Yeah,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It’s fascinating—especially seeing how everything works behind the scenes. The adrenaline, the speed, it’s so intense.”

George felt the connection deepening. They fell into easy conversation, bouncing between their mutual love for fashion, traveling, and fast cars. Every word she spoke made George feel as if he had known her forever. They shared so many of the same interests, and the more they talked, the more captivated he became. Time flew by without them even noticing.

As the party began to wind down, George hesitated for a brief moment but decided to go for it. “I’ve really enjoyed talking with you tonight. Would you—uh, if you’re free, want to come to the Austrian Grand Prix? I think you’d really love it. Maybe I could show you around the paddock?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I���d love that.”

@(your_username) Posted a story!

"What a wonderful night @georgerussell63"

After the Calvin Klein party, George and Y/N stayed in touch almost every day. At first, it was casual—sharing memes, discussing travel plans, and talking about their busy schedules.

George and Y/N always seemed to do a quick call between meetings, or FaceTime sessions whenever they could. Most often, Y/N would call him while she was cooking, her love for food shining through in every dish she made.

“Guess what I’m making tonight,” Y/N teased one evening, the sound of pots and pans clinking in the background as her camera showed her busy kitchen.

George leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let me guess…something delicious?”

Y/N laughed, giving the camera a little wink. “You know it. But you’ll have to wait and see. Maybe I’ll send you a plate.”

He couldn’t help but admire how much passion she had for cooking. He’d watch as she diced vegetables or stirred sauces, completely in her element. The sight of her in the kitchen, focused and happy, made his heart swell.

Sometimes, he’d even join her. They’d both be in their own kitchens, cooking the same meal during their FaceTime calls. George wasn’t the best cook, but with her guidance, he managed to whip up a few decent dishes.

“You’re doing great,” Y/N would encourage, laughing as he fumbled with a pan. “Maybe next time, you’ll cook for me in person.”

“That’s a deal,” George replied with a grin, his eyes never leaving hers on the screen.

Somewhere along the way, admiration had quietly morphed into something deeper. Something that felt a lot like love.

George’s POV

The Austrian GP was finally here, and George couldn’t shake the nervous excitement he felt knowing Y/N would be watching him live from the paddock. He had invited her to the race weeks ago, and now it was happening. After arriving at the circuit, George quickly texted her:

George: Hey! You here? I’ll come get you.

A few moments later, he spotted her in the paddock, looking effortlessly chic in her Mercedes team pass, smiling when she saw him. He guided her through the chaos of the paddock and into the serene comfort of the Mercedes hospitality suite.

“Welcome to my world,” George said with a grin.

Y/N beamed back. “This is insane! Everything looks so different in person.”

They spent the pre-race together, George showing her around, explaining the details of what went on behind the scenes, and making sure she was comfortable.

“Good luck out there,” Y/N whispered, as he headed to his car. She didn’t realize how much she truly cared for him until she saw the determination in his eyes. The feelings that had slowly bloomed over the weeks felt undeniably real now.

The lights went out, and the Austrian GP was underway. George drove like a man possessed—each lap faster, smoother, more precise. Y/N watched from the Mercedes suite, her heart pounding with every corner he took. It was a fierce race, with George battling for the top spot. And then, in a thrilling final lap, he overtook his rival, crossing the finish line first.

Cheers erupted around the track, but George’s eyes immediately searched for her. As the podium celebrations began, champagne spraying everywhere, he stood at the top, a wide grin on his face. His gaze never left Y/N. In that moment, he wasn’t just celebrating the win—he was sharing it with her.

The celebration was in full swing. Music pulsed through the club, and George couldn’t keep his eyes off her—not that he even tried. They had been glued to each other since the moment they stepped inside. With every beat of the music, every sway of her body next to his, George felt the tension between them build.

Y/N was radiant, her energy infectious as they danced together, their movements synced as if they had done this a hundred times before. There were other people around them, fellow drivers, friends, and fans, but to George, the room had blurred into a haze. It was just them. Every laugh, every smile, every brush of her skin against his sent a jolt through him.

At one point, she leaned into his ear to say something, her breath warm against his skin. He couldn’t even remember what she said, just the way her voice made his heart race. They moved together on the dance floor, effortlessly, like they had done this all their lives.

As the night wore on, neither could bear to leave the other’s side. They were locked in this invisible pull, their bodies close, their hands occasionally brushing. It felt like the world outside didn’t exist—just the two of them, wrapped up in the magic of the night.

On their way back to George’s condo, the car ride was quiet, but the air between them buzzed with unspoken words. Y/N glanced at him every now and then, a soft smile playing on her lips, and George couldn’t help but grin back.

As the car pulled up to his place and Y/N reached for the door handle, George, feeling the weight of the moment, decided to take a leap. He cleared his throat and with a small, mischievous grin, said, “Ramyeon meokgo gallae?” in his best, slightly awkward, British-accented Korean.

Y/N froze for a second, her hand pausing on the door, before she burst into laughter. “Did you just…?”

He chuckled, his face warm. “Yeah, I thought I’d give it a try.”

She shook her head, still laughing softly. “You’re adorable.”

The tension that had been building all night finally cracked, and as Y/N smiled at him, George knew that whatever happened next would change everything. She stepped back inside the car, shutting the door behind her, and leaned closer to him, her eyes sparkling.

And from there, the rest was history.

@(your_username)

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, alex_albon, georgerussell63, @jenaissante

@(your_username) girl dinner ✨️

Comments has been limited

@alex_albon really the person who burned the water

@jenaissante this girl is down bad

@lilymhe u are coming to williams garage next time and that's final

THANK YOU FOR READING <3

[amirasainz]

The beginning

This is the first part of the "Sunshine behinde the camera" story. I hope you all enjoy reading this and I'll try to update as soon as possible. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for the next chapters, let me know. I'll try to include them. Have funy and enjoy!

-XoXo

Summary: After the winter break, Lando and Oscar get informed that they will get a new team photographer. However, despide being only 18 years old, the drivers are both impressed with her work. After meating her, Isabela immediately worms her way into their hearts.

All the relationships are platonic!!!

“So, we believe that if we keep including fun games and other drivers, like Charles or Fernando, in our activities, our follower count will increase by 43 people per day,” concluded Charlotte, the head of McLaren’s Media team, with a confident smile.

It was the first day back from the winter break and the very first meeting of the 2024 season. The meeting room was bustling with energy and anticipation. Mechanics, PR personnel, factory workers, test drivers, managers, and more filled the space, eager to kick off the new season. Of course, the four most important people were Oscar, Lando, Andrea, and Zak, who sat at the front, ready to lead the charge.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it. We have a promising outlook for the new season. To finally end your suffering, we wish you all the best and a good start to the new season,” joked Andrea, eliciting laughter and lightening the mood in the room.

Neither Lando nor Oscar could go far before Zak called them over. “Boys, Andrea, Charlotte, and I will need you for a few minutes. Please wait in meeting room C for us.” Before the drivers could ask their boss about this “secret” mini-meeting, he moved on to speak with one of the mechanics, leaving them curious.

“What do you think this is about?” asked Lando, walking with his teammate towards their destination. “I have no idea. Maybe one of us messed up on social media,” replied Oscar, seemingly unbothered by the private meeting.

After entering the room and waiting for a few minutes, the other three adults joined them. “Sorry for our tardiness, boys,” apologized Charlotte, always the considerate one. “No worries,” assured her Oscar.

“Boys, we have some big news for you,” began Andrea. “As you all know, Steve, our team photographer, and his wife were expecting a baby at the end of the season. During the winter break, Steven called me and informed me that it wouldn’t be possible for him to continue his job as our team photographer,” continued Charlotte.

Charlotte went on, “He said that he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life as much as possible, and having to travel a lot during the year is neither helpful for his wife nor something he desires. So, we came to the conclusion that Steven would become the new McLaren factory photographer, you know, to give our fans some behind-the-scenes insights.”

“This means we were put in a position to find a new team photographer. Someone who isn’t bound to one place,” added Zak. He shared a relieved smile with Andrea before turning his attention to the drivers. At this point, both racers were sitting on the edge of their seats.

“Her name is Isabela Ferreira. She is a lovely young woman from Brazil, and her work is incredible,” Charlotte said, handing out folders containing samples of Isabela’s past work. “Wow, these look really good,” muttered Oscar. Both he and Lando wore impressed expressions.

“Not only is she a pro with the camera, as you can see for yourselves, but Steven also approved her work. In fact, he was the one who recommended her to us. To be honest, without his recommendation, we probably wouldn’t have hired her,” said Andrea.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, what do you mean by that?” he asked, glancing at Oscar, who shared the same puzzled look. The three adults exchanged glances, silently agreeing to be open with the drivers.

“Well, even though her work is phenomenal, she is still very young,” started Zak hesitantly. “She turned 18 a few days ago, which makes her the youngest member of the team,” he continued. Both racers had surprised expressions. “But that means she’s still a baby,” stated Lando. Both drivers were trying to absorb this new information. All in all, it wasn’t actually a big problem for the team to employ someone so young; it was just unusual in the Formula 1 world. Typically, people started working for the teams at 24, drivers excluded.

Zak continued, “We understand that her age might raise some eyebrows, but we believe in her talent and potential. Steven’s endorsement was a significant factor in our decision. We are confident that Isabela will bring a fresh perspective and innovative ideas to our team.”

Andrea added, “We also plan to provide her with all the support she needs to succeed. She will be working closely with our experienced staff, and we are committed to ensuring a smooth transition for her.”

Oscar, always the pragmatic one, asked, “What about her travel arrangements? Will she be able to handle the rigorous schedule?”

Charlotte responded, “We’ve already discussed this with her, and she’s fully aware of the demands of the job. Isabela is excited about the opportunity and ready to embrace the challenges. We will also make sure she has the necessary resources and support to manage her responsibilities effectively.”

Lando, still processing the news, said, “Well, if Steven believes in her, that’s good enough for me. I’m looking forward to working with her.”

Oscar nodded in agreement, “Same here. It’s going to be interesting to see her in action.”

Zak smiled, “That’s the spirit, boys. Let’s give her a warm welcome and make sure she feels at home with us.”

“Look, we know this is a surprise for both of you. Trust us, we were surprised as well. But that doesn’t change the fact that she has incredible talent. We just wanted you both to be prepared for when you meet her,” reiterated Zak, his tone serious yet reassuring.

After a moment of silence, Charlotte continued, “Let’s be honest. She is an 18-year-old girl, very far away from home. She doesn’t know anyone here and will be working closely with both of you most of the time. We ask you, no, we three ask you, to keep an eye on her. This is something completely new for her, and she will need support and reassurance from us. And let me tell you, she truly is a ray of sunshine. Trust me, you’ll fall in love with her the minute you meet her.”

“It’s true,” confirmed Andrea. “She walked in here with the biggest smile anyone has ever seen,” eliciting chuckles from those in the room. “Well then, I guess it’s time we finally meet this lovely girl,” stated Oscar. Charlotte let out a relieved smile before beckoning the drivers to follow her. “She’s currently at the practice track, trying out some new lenses. Oh, I can already see it. The three of you will cause chaos around the paddock,” she smiled like a proud mother. Behind her back, the papaya boys shared an amused smile.

As they walked towards the practice track, Lando and Oscar exchanged curious glances. “I wonder what she’s like,” mused Lando. “If she’s as good as they say, we’re in for a treat,” replied Oscar.

When they arrived at the track, they saw a young woman with a camera, intently focused on capturing the perfect shot. Her concentration was palpable, and her passion for her work was evident. Charlotte called out to her, “Isabela, come meet the team!”

Isabela turned around, her face lighting up with a bright smile. She approached them with a confident stride, her camera still in hand. “Hi, I’m Isabela. It’s so nice to meet you all,” she said, her voice warm and friendly.

Lando and Oscar introduced themselves, both impressed by her professionalism and enthusiasm. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Lando. “Welcome to the team,” added Oscar.

“Thank you! I’m really excited to be here and work with all of you,” Isabela replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

As they chatted, it became clear that Isabela’s youthful energy and fresh perspective would be a valuable addition to the team. The drivers felt a sense of protectiveness forming. The only 18 year old girl already wormed her way into their hearts like she did with the other people she met before.

“So, you’re into photography. How did that come about?” Lando inquired. He, Oscar, and Isabela were seated in the cafeteria after Charlotte had sent them inside. According to her, it was far too windy outside for them to spend time on the track. Thus, the trio decided to warm themselves up with some tea and coffee.

“Well, to be honest, my Avó Berta introduced me to photography. After my parents divorced, my father had to work tirelessly to support both me and my grandmother. We had nothing; we lived in the favelas of Rio. That’s why my father juggled three jobs, ensuring we always had food on the table and a roof over our heads,” Isabela began.

“Wow, that must have been tough,” Oscar commented, his eyes wide with empathy.

“It was,” Isabela nodded. “Because of that, us girls were often alone at home. But after a few years, my Avó Berta fell ill and became bedridden. I always loved recounting my days and all the new things I saw to her. However, after some months, she began to forget the things I told her about and what they looked like. So, for seven months, I saved up all my money to buy a camera. Mind you, it was only a cheap one, but it immediately printed the pictures,” she said, laughing lightly. At this point, both Lando and Oscar had somber smiles on their faces.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Lando said softly. “It must have meant a lot to her.”

“It did,” Isabela replied. “So, the next time I told my grandmother about the latest adventure my friends and I had, I was also able to show her the pictures. And if she forgot after a few days, the photos helped to jog her memory.” After a moment of hesitation, she continued.

“Sadly, my grandmother passed away that same winter, so she never got to see the new camera my father bought me for my birthday,” she murmured. Oscar placed his hand on top of hers, causing Isabela to look up. “Your grandmother sounds like a real badass,” he told her, eliciting not only a laugh from the girl but also from his teammate.

“She really was,” Isabela agreed, her eyes shining with fond memories.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what about your mother?” Lando asked hesitantly. “Lando!” Oscar looked shocked at Lando while kicking his foot under the table. Isabela laughed again before continuing. “It’s alright, Oscar. Lando’s just curious. Well, my mother left us when I was two. One day she was there, and the next day she wasn’t. She just packed her bag and left us. No goodbye letter, no SMS. Nada. Which is also the reason why my grandmother despised her.”

“That’s harsh,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “How did you cope with that?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really remember much about her. The only thing I know is her name and what she looks like. The only thing I have from her, besides my looks, is a letter that she sent me on my 16th birthday,” Isabela explained.

“Did you ever try to find her?” Lando asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I thought about it,” Isabela admitted. “But I realized that my life was full with the people who stayed. My father, my Avó Berta, my friends, and my passion for photography. They were enough for me.”

“Wow, I’m honestly… impressed,” said Oscar. “After everything that happened, you turned your passion into your profession. That is something nearly no one achieves,” whispered Lando. His heart felt heavy. How could her mother ever leave this sweet girl? And then, after 14 years, only send a letter? Isabela could only muster a small smile for her new friends.

“Thank you, guys. It means a lot to hear that,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

After that day, the three of them only grew closer. The drivers understood what their boss meant when he said Isabela was a ray of sunshine. Each morning, she greeted everyone with a smile that rivaled the sun. Her cheerful demeanor and genuine interest in others quickly made her a beloved figure at the factory. Sometimes she spent time with the PR team, assisting them in devising new challenges. Other times, she conversed with the engineers and mechanics, inquiring about the new McLaren. They were always more than happy to indulge the young woman, often going out of their way to explain the intricacies of their work.

Isabela’s presence had a noticeable impact on the team’s morale. Her positivity was infectious, and she had a knack for making everyone feel valued and appreciated. The cafeteria staff adored her because she always took the time to chat with them and compliment their cooking. The security guards looked forward to her daily greetings, which brightened their long shifts. Even the usually reserved IT department found themselves smiling more often when Isabela was around.

But her favorite moments were those spent with Oscar and Lando. Oscar, with his calm and thoughtful demeanor, often shared stories about his racing experiences and offered advice on navigating the competitive world of motorsport. Lando, on the other hand, was the life of the party, always ready with a joke or a funny anecdote to lighten the mood. Instead of only spending time at the factory together, they watched movies at each other’s flats or went out for dinner. One time, they even went grocery shopping together, which ended with a half-new wardrobe for Isabela, 7 liters of milk for Lando, and a new TV for Oscar. How that happened, nobody knows.

During those few weeks in England before Testing, Isabela had the pleasure of meeting Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. The two of them became best friends instantly. When Lando and Isabela arrived at Oscar’s flat for another movie night, it was also the first time the girls would meet each other.

Instead of the uncomfortable “Hey, I’m… Nice to meet you,” Isabela and Lily ran to each other for a hug. “Oh my gosh, hi! You look so pretty,” Isabela gushed while the girls still held each other. “Girl, you’re one to talk. You literally look like a goddess. I love that shirt,” Lily complimented her, making the Brazilian girl spin. “Really? I wasn’t sure if it was the right one for tonight. I didn’t want to be overdressed,” the younger one replied shyly. “Love, listen carefully. You are never overdressed. The people around us are just underdressed,” Lily assured her while leading her new best friend to the sofa. The girls sat so close to each other, practically sitting on each other’s laps, while talking about the newest paddock gossip.

Lando and Oscar only looked at the two with bewildered expressions. “What the…” “Just happened?” After another moment, their silence was interrupted by Lily, who ordered Oscar to “bring this cutie pie a refreshment. Oh, and Lando as well.” The only thing Lando could do was laugh so hard that tears started streaming down his face.

As the evening progressed, the group settled in for a movie. “What are we watching tonight?” Lando asked, still chuckling from earlier. “How about a classic? Maybe something like ‘Back to the Future’?” Oscar suggested. “Oh, I love that movie!” Isabela exclaimed. “It’s been ages since I last saw it.”

They all agreed, and soon the movie was playing. During a particularly intense scene, Isabela leaned over to Lando and whispered, “Do you think we could ever build a car like that?” Lando grinned, “With the right team, anything’s possible.”

@mclaren

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 3 673 297 others

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are haply to introduce you to our new team photographer, Ms. Isabella Ferreira. We are happy to have the 18 year old from Barsil as part of our family.🧡

tagged: @isabelaferreira, @landonorris, @oscarpiastri

Comments have been disabled

____________________________________

@mclaren & @isabelaferreira

liked by zakbrown, maxverstappen 2 650 385 others

2024, here we come 🤜🧡🤛

Comments:

@user1: OMFG they look so hot

@user2: Wait, those pictures look really good

@user3: this new photographer does an amazing job

@user4: "this photographer", girl he'd name is Ms Isabela Ferreira

@user5: I don't get why everyone is hyping up the girl. I mean, she just took some freaking pictures. That's bot so hard.

@user6: mate, stay jealous

@landonorris: let's goooooo

@oscarpiastri: 😸👍

@user7: LMFAO

@isabelaferreira: 🧡

[averagewriter-inthedark]

When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

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

Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out  they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for. 

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes. 

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones. 

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat. 

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina. 

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers. 

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room. 

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her. 

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around  the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her. 

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?” 

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown  and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament. 

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place. 

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom. 

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed. 

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug. 

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes. 

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?” 

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer. 

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air. 

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could. 

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body. 

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold. 

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!” 

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic. 

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers. 

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face. 

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his. 

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!” 

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was. 

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them. 

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water. 

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.” 

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead. 

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod. 

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.” 

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.” 

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her. 

 “I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her.  Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?” 

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so. 

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls. 

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body. 

That she left the world at peace. 

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling. 

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous. 

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved. 

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck. 

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead. 

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!” 

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him. 

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs. 

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for. 

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle? 

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them. 

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back. 

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away. 

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch. 

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit. 

For what was once three became two. 

[just-wanna-draw-em]

Yeah, sorry.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Sweet As Sweets

Fred Weasley x Chubby! Reader x George Weasley

(Can be read as platonic, because we all wish we had someone to comfort us on a sensitive topic like this)

Summary: You were being bullied by a gaggle of students for your weight. You were just enjoying a trip to Honeydukes with your friends. Made you self conscious, and that didn’t fly over the twins heads. They are going to fix your problems. Every last one of em

Warnings: Eating disorders, topics of weight, bullying, lots of weight talk, insecurity’s, the twins getting violent because no one hurts their loved ones

“Well if it isn’t my favorite trio-“ Mrs. Flume would beam, as she saw you three. You and the Weasley twins. All smiles. Every time it was time for Hogsmeade, you three had to come to the candy shop. Who can resist Honeydukes? Certainly not you three. Not to mention she adored the twins. They were always happy to help her, and gave her such wonderful ideas for new treats. She knew that the day they made their shop a reality that she would be more than happy to offer to stock their shelves with sweets. Honeydukes in Diagon alley. A perfect business prosper!

“Hey Mrs. Flume!” You waved, as the twins were already quick to help her with the bag in her hands. Fred with holding it, while George with putting what was needed on the shelves. Some things just needed a human touch, after all. Had you giggle. They were tricksters, sure, but no one can argue that they were business savvy. It’s what made you respect them so much. Jokes, but knowing there was a time and place.

“I was hoping to see you lot again soon. Oh there is this new candy my husband and I created. You three always have such wonderful opinions. Who better to know what kids like than kids themselves?” She would beam to you, and you had to smile. Such a sweet woman. Suppose you three really rubbed off on her.

“I’ll be right back. Boys, can you help me a moment?” She would ask, as the twins gave mock salutes to her. Had her chuckle at their Go Gettem attitude. Had her ruffle their beanies, that kept that vivid orange hair safe and warm. Off to work they went, as you stayed behind. Just admiring the beautiful shop.

“No surprise you are in here again.” Someone would call out to you. Your heart dropped, as you knew that voice. Was one of those prefects. Not the ones like Percy. Those who drank on power, and liked to abuse it. You couldn’t argue with them, or they would take house points from you. Even if you were in the same house. Made it sting more that your own house could wish such pain.

“Leave me alone.” You grumbled, as you tried not to face the gang. You didn’t want to. That gang of prefects was always bullying people like you. People who didn’t starve themselves to the point those high cheek bones were a product of starvation. They felt better than you because they were on the opposite end of the spectrum of hunger. They had their own battles, but they were taking it out on people. Spreading the toxic disease.

“What? Mouth already stuffed full?” Another one of prefects mocked, as they made a pig snout pull at their nose. Followed by oinking, as the gang echoed it. Had your eyes water, as you tried to cover your ears with your hat. Anything to make them shut up.

“Stop hogging all the sweets. We know you are one, but move-!” And a sharp push was given to your side. Had you squeak, as you plopped on your butt. The chain reaction causes you to hit the side of a counter, and pumpkin fizz soak your clothes.

“Now you STINK like one to-!” They continued to mock, as your eyes water. You just couldn’t take it. They were always following you into whatever shop you went. If it had food in it, even though you didn’t go to eat, they haunted you. They were probably jealous you were such good friends with the twins. More like had friends in general, that weren’t surface level. Regardless you would stumble upwards. Slipping on the soda, as you ran out into the snow. Sobbing, as the twins returned.

“Hey, where did-?” Fred puzzled, before the gaggles of prefects quickly hushed. Playing dumb, as they all looked around. Pretending to be curious of what the shop had to offer, while George noticed the fizzy footprints. That made him nudge Fred, and he took the hint. The duo soon outside, to see you sniffling in a frosty bench.

“What happened?!” The twins asked, as they hurried over. George was quick with a hot air charm, just like Molly taught him, as Fred looked over the scene. The orange soda unable to hide your tear stained cheeks.

“I eat alot, that’s what happened!” You hiccuped, as you rubbed your eyes. That had the twins sigh. Not in annoyance, or bother. But in empathy. Not the first time those prefects bullied someone your shape.

“And? We eat alot to!” George tried to defend, but you just sniffled more. “But you two don’t get fat-!” You hiccuped again, as Fred was sitting next to you.

“Oh come off it. Mum’s fat!” And that had George smack his shoulder. “SHE IS-! But that doesn’t mean she isn’t our mum. She’s big, and big ain’t bad. She and we don’t get along that well, but she’s still a wonderful mum.” Fred tried to clarify.

“Yeah. Also the best hugs. Our hugs suck because we’re sticks and bones.” George tried to tease. It was nice, though. They said Fat but not with that negative energy. Was just another word. Wasn’t sugar coating things at all. They were being honest, and not trying to make you feel better to stop your crying. Their words were real. Had you calm down, a little.

“Also, like look-“ George added, as he finished the charm. “You know how us Weasley’s are. Food is like a language. We like food. Food brings people together. And when we become business men, it’s gonna be the best way to say we care.”

You were understanding what he was trying to say. The Weasleys were a poor family, but they tried to feed. Hence why the older siblings were thinner than the younger. To try and make sure the younger ate. But with siblings moving out, getting jobs, food is able to not be so sparse. Food was now a enjoyment, compared to survival.

"When we make it big, I hope we can get fat id anythkng-!" That had you roll your eyes, but you were grasping what they meant. Still, you couldn’t help but pinch at a roll on your stomach.

“Oh stop that.” Fred would soon trap you in a hug. Made you unable to move your arms, as George joined in. Trapped between them too. Forced to listen, and unable to degrade yourself more.

“Charlie is also fat. Like he can’t keep flexing twenty four seven.” George added, as you recalled meeting him before. He was an extremely well built man. Excess mass is still excess mass. He’s right. You can’t just flex all the time. Even muscular guys are squishy.

“But-“ You couldn’t finish your thought, as Fred poked your nose. “Don’t say ‘but he actually has muscles’ you baby. We would love you if you were built like a train, or as skinny as a wooden one. So shut up about that.” Fred would lecture you.

“Not to mention you aren’t even that big. Like come on. Like COME ONNNNN-“ George would whine, as he plopped his head on your shoulder. “Like come on. So what if you eat a little more. You actually ENJOY food. Like come on.” He grumbled on.

“We rather be friends with someone who enjoys our cooking, and experiments to eat, than a skinny asshole who thinks just eating a slice of bread is going to murder you. Like this whole thing is dumb. Skinny this, fat that. Lame.” Fred would huff, as their own bodies were suffering issues.

The twins were very skinny, and that was a fact. They had developed muscle, from quidditch, sure. But they also were still underweight. It was so hard to keep on weight, given how much work they did. Suppose it can be exhausting being told you had a body to die for, when you hated it to begin with. Helped you see that maybe there were just as much perks to being plus size, as there were to being skinny. It’s your body. What’s with everyone wanting to be in your business?

“Come on. You deserve to edulge a little. Come on.” The twins would flutter their eye lashes, in that Halo Wearing way, and you snorted. They would call that a victory, as they smooshed their cheeks with yours. Warmth, love, and affection. What you needed.

“We will be right back. Trust us. Just enjoy the snow-“ They winked, before running back inside. You were a bit confused, but figured better not to question it. They were the twins after all. You made a guess someone’s going to be set on fire.

Seems you were right. It was a little while, but you soon saw the gaggle of school yard bully’s run outside. Their hair indeed on fire, and faces flushed heavily. As if they ate some kind of spicy candy.

They were all so desperate to stop the heat, and were soon all jumping into snow banks. Desperate to stop the burning. Just rolling around, and making a scene. Was such a sight, as they melted the snow. Reached the earth under it, and they were soon covered in mud. Cooled off, but a mess.

“Oink oink, wankers-!” The twins shouted, and laughed. Many of the fellow students pointed as well. Those prefects were in their own little mud baths. All to be pointed at, with laughter and mockery.

“Hey, we got some cool candy that Mrs. Flume wants us to test out. Let’s hit up The Three Broomsticks to try it out-!” George would cheer, as he held up the large bag of sweets. A mixture of bought, gifted, and experimental.

With Fred helping you stand up, to give you some pride and dignity, you would look through the open doorway. There was Mrs. Flume. She seemed to be closing the lid to a candy jar full of red little balls of sweets. When you two met eyes, she gave a hush. With a wink. You would nod your head to her, with a smile, before the twins yanked you off to your next adventure.

“I see someone took up your advice on prank candy.” You giggled, as those twins gave gasps. Making ‘who, us?!’ And fake looks of disbelief. That just had you all laughing even more, as they kept up the dramatic little scene of pretend innocents.

The day could have gone better, but then again the twins found a way to indeed make it better anyway. Such as snuggling with you in a booth. No shame between you three, as you enjoyed a nice hot meal. With butterbeer, and your favorite sweets. A day to just enjoy yourself. Cheat days were needed in life anyway.

You still were a little self conscious, but the twins were happy to help you in whatever direction you went. To be your biggest cheerleader for if you wanted to lose weight, or be your knights in shining armor for if you were contented with just the way you are.

Either way, you’ll never say no to the pure comfort of sharing sweets with the people you found sweet.

[vettely]

nah bc i want someone to love me the way george loves alex. that man defended alex left and right in the media when he was driving for rbr saying "rbr is making him look like an idiot when he's not", he made sure alex got that seat at williams probably making power point presentations and showing them to every single member of williams team, and now he looks so happy and so proud of alex and his achievements with williams, praising him and making sure everyone knows what a great talent alex is... like wow i want that in my life, someone please love me like that

[nottswitch]

would you be able to write how Fred and George would react towards reader accidentally turning themselves into a cat? like a potion mixup that turns us into a cat and somehow, he wander around to try get someone to fix it but bump into them along the way? I just find it a cute idea and fluffy! 🙌

tysm for this lovely request, I had such a fun time writing it and got a bit carried away (who would've guessed)! I decided to make it platonic, bc you mentioned both of the guys, but feel free to correct me if that's not what you meant! I hope you enjoy reading this little thing <3

warning: platonic!twins x reader, a teeny tiny bit of cursing

wc: 1.5k

Your favourite way to spend your free time was to hang around the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, no doubt. The energy was unmatched; you could always find something new to look at and play with even if you had previously browsed every single shelf. And, of course, the twins’ company was a more-than-enjoyable bonus.

There was a major downside, however – and it was the room. The forbidden fruit, something so enticing yet so dangerous – the laboratory where the twins kept experimental samples of their newest ideas. The temptation to try out some potions or sweets they hadn’t released yet occupied your mind at times, but you hadn’t let your impulsive thoughts win yet – hence Fred and George not restricting you access to the lab.

Apparently, all of you had too much faith in the soundness of your mind.

You wandered into the lab, just like you usually did every other day. The shelves were filled with various boxes and trinkets, but one of them immediately captured your attention – it was new and exciting. A small bottle of silver liquid faintly glimmering in the shadows of the “Potions” rack. Before you could stop yourself, your feet dragged you in the bottle’s direction. You picked it up and twirled it around to have a better look – no one’d prevent you from looking, right? A potion so beautiful simply couldn’t be dangerous, could it? One wouldn’t make such an alluring little vial if it wasn’t supposed to be drunk. You’d be less tempted if it had a “drink me” sticker plastered across it.

Before you knew it, the liquid poured down your throat, coating it with the richest sweetness and the freshest chill. You couldn’t hold in a satisfied moan – so tasty, so calming. And there were no side effects! Must not have been a successfully attempted sample, right?

Wrong.

You didn’t necessarily feel it, but your head went dizzy for a brief moment. Oh, that’s nothing, you thought, heading to the mirror – to check, just in case. The problem arose as soon as you looked – more so, tried to look. You couldn’t see anything, not even the mirror itself. The only thing in front of you was the wall.

“What the actual hell?”

No, the words were nothing like this. In fact, they weren’t words at all. All you could hear was a series of meows, so you wondered who could possibly let a cat in here, as the shop had a strict “no pets allowed” policy. But your initial surprise was washed away by a much bigger tidal wave of pure shock as you realized that no one did. You were the cat. A little black and white one, judging by the paws.

Shit. Or, as the only thing you could make out, meow.

You rushed out of the room with all the speed your little legs could provide. Down the stairs, one more turn – and you were in the main area of the shop, lost in a crowd of people, which was an everyday occurrence in the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Kids looked at you, laughing as you stumbled into tables, dumbfounded by an array of extremely unfamiliar sensations and meowing at the top of your lungs – likely added to the fun.

“What do we have here?”

You heard George’s voice somewhere above you and in a desperate attempt to get noticed bumped straight into his leg, getting dizzy once more. You stepped away, the already too-big-to-handle world spinning around. You couldn’t lift your head to look at the man in front of you, but let out a miserable mew to hopefully invoke some sympathy.

“Fred, come look at this!” George called, and his brother swiftly appeared next to him, staring down at you with the same stunned look painted on his face.

“A little kitty cat!” Fred exclaimed, ruffling his hair, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. “How did you get here, little one?”

Not a single customer seemed to claim you, so the twins exchanged glances and turned back to you, scratching their heads. You were finally able to return their looks, trying your best to speak up, say it was you, how couldn’t they see? But all the sounds you produced were awfully similar to a language they couldn’t possibly understand – the cat language.

“Can’t have you here, little one,” George cooed, bending down to try to pick you up.

No! You couldn’t let yourself get humiliated like that! You hissed, backing away and shooting a piercing dagger of a glance in George’s direction.

“Oh, you’re a feisty little kitty!” Fred laughed and tried and failed to pick you up as well. “Come on, don’t be scared.”

You had to get yourself recognized somehow. A look around the shop didn’t help – people, lots of people, stuff flying around and nothing that could possibly give you away. Then, you had a sudden idea – a wild card that could possibly get you caught and kicked out, but you had no other choice. You gathered all your strength and will and started running up the stairs, towards the hangout room – sort of a living space where you could often find yourself with the twins, chilling after a long workday.

“No running!”

If you were a human at that moment, you would chuckle. Fred sounded just like Filch back at Hogwarts.

Both of the guys chased after you up the staircase, but you were faster – to be honest with yourself, you enjoyed having this much of an advantage for once. The much-desired door to the hangout room was open, to your delight – had it been closed, you’d be in much bigger trouble. You ran inside and almost knocked over a chair standing in your way. Fred cursed as he tripped over it and barely made it out without falling to the ground.

“You little prat!” he screamed, reaching for you but once again, failing to grab you as you wiggled your way out of his arms. “George, hurry!”

Your target was already close – a picture of you with Fred and George on the opening day of the shop, laughing and hugging each other. You jumped on the table – it felt so effortless that a thought to stay as a cat had briefly crossed your mind – and turned towards the room, where you saw Fred approaching you from the front with a wand in his hand; George was coming towards you from the right, spreading a small blanket in the air.

You had to act quick. You let out the loudest meow you could muster and your spotted black and white tail slid across the frame of the picture, following the movements of your human self.

“Freddie, tell me I’m not mad.” George squinted, trying to distinguish the movements of your tail. Your spirits were finally up and you tapped your smiling face with the tip of your tale.

“Mate, I’m as mad as you are,” Fred replied, putting his wand back into his pocket, “Is it…?”

You meowed in agreement, seeing as he was almost there with the guesswork. Fred exchanged playful glances with George and burst out laughing, his brother following suit.

“Bloody hell, what’ve you done?!”

George plopped down on the couch, Fred remained standing, his arms crossed on his chest. You decided to make yourself comfortable and jumped straight onto the armchair, wrapping your tail neatly around your paws.

“No, seriously, what?” Fred wondered, raising his eyebrow and staring at you as if he was actually expecting an answer. You let out an annoyed high-pitched meow. “What an idiot!” was what you were trying to say.

Realization dawned on the brothers at the same time.

“Merlin, the potion!” they exclaimed together, slapping their foreheads with their palms.

“’ight, mate, note – side effects.” Fred was still laughing, which greatly annoyed you and you decided your feelings to be let out by a warning hiss. “Subject turns into a spicy cat.”

You growled, but Fred only chuckled at your frustration.

“Don’t worry, it should wear off in an hour. ’course if we counted properly that is…” George attempted to calm you down, stretching out to stroke your furry head, but you could tell he was uncertain. The touch was nice though, and you caught yourself purring – a sound so unfamiliar yet so natural in your current state. “Aw, Freddie, look!”

You pulled away, not willing to give the courtesy, and before you knew it, your fangs were plunged into George’s finger.

“Ouch!” he screamed, shacking his hand in the air and blowing at a small wound starting to form on his index finger. “Note – unprompted aggression!”

You sat back, proud of your doing, your tail resting on your paws again.

“Oh, kitty cat, you will pay,” Fred warned you with a devilish grin on his face. “You still have about fourty minutes.”

His eyes glistened with mischief, same as George’s, when they looked at each other and then at you again.

“The first to pick her up wins ten galleons, go!”

You screeched, jumping on the back of the armchair as the twins lunged in your direction. The next fourty minutes were to be… promising.

my masterlist | how to request

[timethehobo]

Don’t @ me I just really enjoy their situationship. (Digger doesn’t appreciate the teasing.)

[formula-nyoom]

Be Proud of Yourself | GR63

Pairing: Platonic!George Russell x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: @cinnvmonrolls @scenesofobx and @annabellelee wanted a sequel to I'm Proud of You where reader finally outqualifies George and wins a race.

A/N: Works picking back up for me so fics may take some time for them to come out. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Good job (Y/N)! We’ve made it to Q3.”

 “Whew! Didn’t think I’d make it with that last lap. Glad to hear I did.” You said to your race engineer as you pulled into the pitlane. Engineers surrounded your car as they pulled it into the garage and placed a screen in front of you to go over data. To your right, you saw them do the same with George’s car. The two of you made eye contact and you gave George a thumbs up. He put his own thumb up, signaling to you that he also made it through to Q3. You only nodded your head.

While you were happy for the team that both Mercedes made it into Q3, a familiar, small pit started to form in your stomach. While most drivers that end up in Q3 shoot for pole, you didn’t care what position you ended up in, only as long as it was in front of George. It wasn’t a malicious goal. You just wanted to outqualify your teammate once and hopefully that would lead to people no longer ragging on you for all the times you placed behind George. But being honest with yourself, you knew they wouldn’t really stop. It would probably just make you feel better and hopefully give you a confidence boost going into the race on Sunday. 

The greenlight was given for Q3 to start and you and George were sent out for qualifying. Despite getting impeded on one of your qualifying laps, by the end of the session you felt like you had good pace to make the top 5. Nowhere near pole, but you felt you had good pace as you crossed the finish line at the end of qualifying.

“Alright, tell me where I am.” You said to your race engineer as you did your cool down lap before pulling into parc ferme.

 “You are P3.” Your race engineer told you. P3. That’s the highest you’ve ever qualified this season.

“Wow! I’m proud of that. And George is P2?”

 “No. George is P6.” Your race engineer said. You paused, your brain not really processing what was just said to you.

“What?”

 “You are P3. George is P6.”

“I outqualifed George?” The shock in your voice was evident. Realistically you should have tried to hide it, but you didn’t care. You had finally out-qualified your teammate

 “That you did. Good job (Y/N).”

For the first time, instead of parking your car in the regular parc ferme lane, you rolled your car till it stopped in front of the P3 placard, right next to Max’s car that was parked in the P1 spot. You took your time to get out of the car before running over to greet your team at the barriers. They gave you high fives and pats to the shoulder. While it wasn’t pole, P3 was still something to celebrate. 

 “Glad to see you up here, rookie!” Max said, giving your shoulder a pat. 

“Didn’t expect to be up here. It’s going to be difficult tomorrow for me to try and overtake you.” You told him. Max laughed.

 “Well I definitely won’t make it easy.” He said.

After post qualifying interviews, George was there to meet you as the two of you headed back to the Mercedes garage for debrief.

“Good job mate! Second row!” George said as he patted your shoulder “Wish I could have made it a Mercedes lock out.”

 “I expected you to end up on the front row. What happened?”

“My tires locked up on the second to last turn. Cost me what could have been pole.” George said. 

The adrenaline from qualifying had started to wear off and realization set in on where you placed. P3. 2 spots away from pole. 2 spots away from 1st place.

Your smile dropped and you turned to George.

“What am I supposed to do tomorrow George?” You asked him. “The team is going to expect me to try and win the race. I don’t know if I can do that.”

 “What makes you think that?” George asked.

“Because that’s what everyone else thinks.” You said as doubt started to creep in. You could practically see the media comments that would be online by the end of the night: predictions that George will overtake you by the end of the first lap, or you’ll bin it in the first turn, ruining Mercedes chances of a race win. 

 “Not everyone thinks that. The team doesn’t think that and neither do I.” George said, trying to make you feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Really? Because I haven’t been able to out pace you at all this whole season! I’ve always qualified and placed behind you at every race, including the sprints. The only reason I was able to outqualify you today was because of an issue with your car. If your tires didn’t lock up, you would have outqualified me again and continue to prove to everyone that Mercedes made a mistake with signing me!” You exclaimed. While you didn’t seem to be crying from your exclamation, your face had turned red and you were breathing heavily. George could tell that this was something you had been keeping to yourself for a long time.

 “Hey, look at me.” George lightly cupped your face so that you would make eye contact with him. 

 “Mercedes did not make a mistake in signing you. You deserve to be here. Who cares if you’ve finished behind me? You’ve consistently scored points for Mercedes for a majority of the season and did so as a rookie. You’ve done better than most rookies when they first join Formula 1. Better than I did my rookie season.” George told you.

 “But the media-”

“Screw the media. They say shit like that all the time just to stir up drama. They only go off of what they’re seeing. If they knew how much you’ve been matching me in pace during our sim runs and during practice sessions, they wouldn’t be saying stuff like that.” George told you. He pulled you into a side hug and started to walk both of you to the Mercedes garage.

“Look, we both know that teammates are supposed to be each other’s biggest rivals, and I completely understand your want to outqualify and out place me at every race. But I don’t want that to cause you to doubt yourself and I’d hate to be the reason that causes you so much distress.” He said. You sighed.

 “It’s not you. It’s the expectations.”

“Put the expectations aside for now. Trust me, it won’t do you any good. You’ll beat me at some point, through your own merit and pace. I know you will.” George said. 

And that made you feel a bit better. 

~~~

The morning of the race, you were wrought with nerves. After the team debrief last night, it was emphasized that you had a good chance of winning the race if everything went well. The expectations were hard to shake. Even with how much you tried to push them to the side like George had advised.

George and you arrived at the track at the same time. While walking to Mercedes’ hospitality, George was giving you all the best advice he could think of for your starting position. 

“Max and Lando will be too focused on trying to get ahead of each other in the first turn. That will open the outside up for you to try and swoop in and take the lead. That’s how I was able to do it when I started P3 with them in P1 and P2.”

 “But what if one of them tries to go to the outside to overtake the other?” You asked.

“Then you wait and bide your time. If you can’t overtake them on the first lap, you’ll have a chance of overtaking them later. But be careful if you have to go 1-to-1 against Lando. We don’t want a repeat of Austria.” “Well maybe a repeat of Austria is what we need for me to get my first win.”

The Drivers Parade was always the calm before the storm. You always enjoyed staring out into the crowd and waving to fans. Usually you’d stand next to Logan or George during the parade and you and Logan would always make a game out of who could spot the most of your guys' drivers numbers in the crowd. But today your game was interrupted by you having to be one of the drivers interviewed during the parade.

“So (Y/N), you’re starting in P3 today. Do you think you have a chance at a win today?” The interviewer asked. 

 “I really hope so. Me and the team have been going over all the possible strategies that could guarantee me a win but there’s also the matter of getting up to P1. George and I joked earlier that a repeat of Austria would be ideal but I think I have a good chance at fighting for a win today.” You said. The interviewer smiled.

 “Now I’m sure you’re aware of this, but if you win today, you’ll be the first woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix. How do you feel about that?”

 Oh. The expectations just became bigger.

Despite the nerves, you were able to muster a smile to answer the question.

“It would be a historic thing and something that I’ve been striving to do throughout this whole season. I know it won’t be an easy thing to achieve but if I can pull it off, it would make this race even better.”

You were thankful that your Mercedes PR training allowed you to answer the question in good faith. Because until then, you had been so focused on the possibility of a win that you hadn’t realized until now what that win could mean. And now you felt even more pressure.

You weren’t even starting on pole and yet you were nervous beyond belief. Sure it was because of a multitude of reasons: You were starting in front of George for the first time, you were in a position to give Mercedes a win, and if you did win, you’d be making history. 

It would be stupid for anyone to tell you that there was “no pressure”, to you there was so much pressure. And it would be even worse if you made a mistake that would cost you and Mercedes the race. The media would have a field day. 

George could sense that you were spiraling again as he watched you struggle to put your gloves on. He walked over and held out his hand for you to hand them to him, which you did and you let George help you with your gloves.

“You’re going to do great.” George told you once your gloves were on. 

 You could only give him a nod. 

You pulled your car into the P3 spot behind Max’s RedBull and nervously waited for the lights to go out. Taking your breath, you tried to center yourself.

 ‘You’re going to do great. Put the expectations aside for now. You. Can. Win. This.’

It was better for you to focus on the now. Worrying about the outcome would affect your race. 

*Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink*

Foot to the floor, you slammed on the throttle and immediately went for the outside line. But going to the outside didn’t work like George had said it would. Max and Lando were indeed trying to get past each other, like George had said, but Max needed to pull away from Lando because they were getting too close to each other, which caused you to get pushed off the track. Not enough to cause damage, but you rejoined the track in P8.

 “Max pushed me off the track!” You exclaimed to your race engineer, clearly not happy about losing your P3 position. Oh yea. And you were 2 spots behind George now.

 “It’s been noted. Keep a cool head. It’s only the first lap, we can still win this race.” Your race engineer said. You let out a frustrated huff and tried to focus on getting back into the top 3. 

Building up speed you were able to overtake and get into P7, but that put you right behind George. In the team briefing before the race, it was said that you were the priority with your P3 placement, but that was before the start of the race. Now you were worried that since George was ahead of you, he would be the priority.

“Are me and George allowed to fight?” You asked your engineer, hoping they would say yes. 

 “You and George seem to be matching pace so you are allowed to fight as long as you keep it clean.”

“Got it.” You said, a smile creeping on your face. 

You quickly increased your speed, getting into George’s DRS zone. You were determined to get past your teammate. You weren’t going to end this race behind George again.

0.500s, 0.400s, 0.300s. You were gaining on George, just waiting for the right moment for an overtake. But he wasn’t making it easy for you. No, George was defending, making you work for this overtake, making you prove that you can get past him. 

 “The two Mercedes are very close to one another! They have been given permission to fight! (L/N) has consistently been outplaced by Russel throughout this season, but she seems determined to get by her teammate! Down the straight they go, (L/N) has DRS! She dives to the inside and GETS PAST RUSSEL IN TURN 8! (Y/N) (L/N) TAKES 6TH PLACE FROM HER TEAMMATE!”

You didn’t hesitate from pulling away from George as soon as you got past him. You let out a little exclamation of celebration to yourself for getting past but there were still more overtakes to do. Through pitstops of other drivers, you were able to move up to P4 and eventually found yourself within DRS range of Lando, who had dropped to P3. You were gaining momentum and just as you were preparing to go into Sector 1 to attempt the overtake, Lando was called into the pitlane, moving you up to P2. 

“Gap to Verstappen?” You asked as you tried to keep your momentum.

 “Verstappen is 5 seconds ahead. There are 20 laps left so let’s try to catch up to him.” Your engineer said to you. 

You seemed to be one with the car and speed was something you found quickly as you caught up to Max with just 10 laps to go. Now was the hard part: overtaking him. 

Max was a very defensive driver. Everytime you tried to make an attempt at overtaking, Max would try to halt your attempt. You were trying to play it safe for three laps but the end of the race was getting closer and you needed to overtake now in order to win the race. 

The two of you were going into turn 6 side by side. Like repeating the start, you had chosen the outside line. But you weren’t going to let him push you off the track, as you pulled ahead and managed to overtake him. But the two of you had just turned into the strait of sector 2, with Max still close enough to have DRS. He went for the outside line, but you knew he was trying to fake you out. You stayed on the inside and ahead enough so that Max couldn’t overtake you going into turn 9. 

 “Start pulling away. 6 laps to go.” Your engineer said to you. 

“I know! I’m trying! This guy doesn’t want to let go of first place!” Your frustration from the beginning of the race had come back. Max was still riding your rear wing and you just wanted him to stop. You were so close to a race win you just needed to hold off Max for 6 more laps. 

6 laps became 5. Then 4. By the time it became lap 3 you had started to be able to pull away and by the 2nd to last lap, Max had fallen out of your DRS zone.

 ‘Holy shit, I could win this’ You thought. By the time you saw the white flag waving, it was starting to become real.

 “Last lap, last lap. You can bring it home.” Your race engineer said and this time you believed him. 

You were going to win this race.

“Many had doubted Mercedes when they announced they had signed an F2 rookie to be the one to replace Sir Lewis Hamilton. And while she hadn’t been able to beat her teammate throughout this season, (Y/N) (L/N) has proven that those doubts should be put to rest. She outqualifed her teammate for the first time yesterday! Today she not only outplaces him, but she also makes history as the first woman to win a Formula One race! (Y/N) (L/N) wins the Monza Grand Prix!”

As the checkered flag rose, you saw people from the Mercedes team climb the fence and wave their fists in celebration as you drove past them and crossed the finish line. 

 “That’s the checkered flag! P1 (Y/N)! You did it!”

“YEEEEESSSS! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO HARD! WOOOOO!” A smile spread across your face as you waved to the crowd while on your cool down lap. Part of you couldn’t believe it.

“Congratulations (Y/N). I know expectations for you were high at the start and I’m happy that you were able to deliver on them. You’re making everyone at Mercedes proud.” Toto’s voice now came over your radio and the praise made you smile even more.

 “Thank you Toto. I know a lot of people doubted your decision about signing me. Hopefully I’ve proven them wrong.”

 “You did kid. You did.”

Pulling into parc ferme, you didn’t hesitate to get out of the car and climb up onto the nose. You raised your fists in the air in celebration before swinging one up towards the sky as people cheered. You let yourself just stare out at the cheering ground and soaked up all the excitement before leaping off the nose of your car.

Your feet stay on the ground for a second before you’re getting scooped up into someone’s arms. They’re hugging you tight while spinning you around. You panic for a second at the unknown person holding you, but then you see the familiar blue helmet of George and relax, hugging him back.

 “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you (Y/N). You deserve this so much.” George says. He sounds like he’s crying. As he sets you down, you can see his visor is up and there are visible tears on his face.

 “I’m supposed to be the one crying George.” You said, your voice wavering as tears started to well up in your eyes. 

“We can both be crying because the fact is that you have proved everyone wrong. (Y/N) (L/N), you have just won your first race!” George exclaims as he pulls you in for another hug and you can’t help but start crying tears of joy.

Together the two of you walked over to the Mercedes team at the barrier, who welcomed you with open arms and helmet pats. You hugged your race engineer as soon as you saw them, thanking them for helping throughout the race. 

You were given many congratulations by both the team and those you walked past as you made your way to the cool down room. Your fellow drivers gave you hugs or pats on the shoulder as you passed, all of them very happy at your first win.

"I told you you would be up there one day!" Oscar said as you walked past him. Both him and Logan gave you a hug while congratulating you and your smile just kept getting bigger.

“You did not make it easy.” Was the first thing you said to Max when you entered the cool down room. Max let out a laugh as he sat in the P2 chair while you put down your helmet and swapped it for the P1 hat.

 “I told you I wouldn’t.” Max said. You rolled your eyes but smiled, taking a seat next to him. Lewis walked in shortly after, taking his seat in the P3 chair. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a side hug.

“Congrats. You’re picking up where I left off, kid.” He said.

 “I’m coming for your spot as Mercedes' golden child.” You told him. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

Stepping on to the top step of the podium felt like a surreal moment. Graciously accepting the first place trophy, the cheers almost sounded deafening as you hoisted it high above you and when your national anthem came, you smiled and mouthed the words with a smile on your face. And when the time finally came to pop the champagne bottle, you didn’t hesitate in spraying the two world champions while letting yourself get drenched as well. Who knows when you’ll be back up here, but you were here today. As you let yourself get sprayed with champagne, you soaked up the moment, feeling both the adrenaline and pure happiness as you met the eyes of smiling faces from your team down below, including George. As you stood on the top step, you could say with certainty that you were proud of yourself.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Drive To Survive

key:

indented italics - flashbacks, display other than interview, screen changes

February 14, 2025 

The screen is dark as the newest episode of Drive To Survive plays. 

The title read “The Rookie.” It was finally time for the episode that everyone had been waiting for since the 2024 season ended. 

The opening scene starts with multiple flashes of cameras. If people watched the 2023 season, they would know exactly what circuit it was. The Elvis impersonators would give it away as well. 

Standing in a circle was the current world champion, two Ferrari drivers, and the Papaya duo. They smiled forced smirks for the cameras. Yet, they dropped them once they realized the cameras were not pointing to them. The Netflix camera filmed them all turning to face the front. Most of the drivers had confused looks. 

“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan,” the microphone picked up the words from the red clad Spaniard. 

Max smirked, the camera zooming in on the Dutchman. 

“He’s not.” 

The camera angle changes to the back of a young woman, blond hair bouncing with every step. A red scarf flowed behind her, white body suit sparkling under the flashes of all the cameras. 

The screen flashed the title before a producer chair was put in a spotlight. The camera angle switched to a back view as a driver walked around and sat in the chair. Their face is completely nonvisible from the camera angle, but people know who it is. 

The lights dim before brightening, and the camera angle is back on the chair with the driver. Blond hair reflects the lighting, as well as a nice smile. The episode clapper is in her hands.  

“Please state your name and team for the camera.” 

The woman in the chair took a breath. 

“My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Italian team, Scuderia Ferrari.” 

She clapped the black and white box. A loud beep sounded in the studio as the camera crew started to laugh. The girl in the chair started giggling as well, before acting serious again. 

“Yeah, that was a lie. I drive for the best, the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 team. Red doesn’t look the best on me. I prefer navy.” 

She smiles, trying not to laugh once more. 

The camera quickly cuts to black and then fades into a clip, that looks similar to a home video. A young girl is smiling for the camera, tiniest helmet in her hand.  

“How old were you when you started karting?” a voice sounded over the video. 

The blond cocked her head in thought. She smiled at the nostalgia that was running through her mind. 

“I was five.” 

The same little girl was now in a kart, doing donuts on a driveway. 

“My parents had gotten me a kart as a present. They had been talking about starting me as soon as possible. I mean, I had toy cars before for practice. My first one was a bright pink Barbie car and I got that when I was 3.” 

The clip changes to a different scene. This time, it was of a karting circuit. Multiple kids were aiming for the first place spot, but a singular pink kart was going around the outside, taking it from them.  

“I remember my first time winning. It was 2008, a few months after I got my kart. All the boys there looked at me weird when I showed up with my hot pink helmet.” 

“Where you scared?” the interviewer leaned in, awaiting the answer. 

“Of the boys? Not one bit. They should have been more scared of me.” 

It was now a black screen, but multiple voices shouted over it. 

“Y/n L/n wins her first feature karting race. 

“That is another win for the female karter! 

“Y/n L/n wins the European Division for karting in 2010! 

“L/n takes the 2012 Italian Karting Division Championship!” 

“Karting will always be a part of me.” 

“Who kept you going?” 

The girl gave a sad smile to the camera as she looked down at her hands. She knew she had given them permission to talk about the subject. She just didn’t know that they’d go right off the bat. 

“My godfather, Lorenzo.” 

The screen changed to a clip of the small girl running to a taller man. The man was knelt down in the grass, arms open wide to catch the running girl. A gentle smile was on his face as he looked at the trophy in the child’s arms: almost too big for her to carry on her own. 

“I believe that without him, I wouldn’t be in this chair. I owe it all to him.” 

The scene changes once again, to multiple clips of an F4 and F3 car crossing the finish line. 

“Y/n L/n wins her first F4 race of the season! 

“Is she going to take home the championship today? Yes she does! Y/n L/n is the 2018 Formula 4 Champion!

“It is a new year and we are seeing a lot of new rookies in Formula 3. Hold on, is that Y/n L/n? Ah it is! So glad to see the girl here today especially after last year! 

One of the regulars on the show, Will Buxton, was now in the seat. 

“What are your thoughts on L/n’s rise in Formula 3?” 

Will leaned in, getting focused. 

“You have to have such a good foundation in your family and close friends, to be supported, to be good like that. Because without good support, a driver cannot be a good driver.” 

“L/n is across the line to take home her first F3 race win. We were seeing her looking a bit down earlier, so I hope this brings her spirits up because she is making history today.” 

“So, I was disowned right before that race that I won in F3.” The blond shrugged. “I really never had any good support other than like three people. At the time, two of them were just staff too.” 

She giggled at the revelation, knowing what Buxton had said beforehand. 

“Another win for L/n, making her the 2019 Formula 3 champion. Ladies and gentlemen, you do not want to miss watching this racer ever again.” 

Somber music now plays in the background. 

“How nervous were you when you made the jump from the Formula 3 division to Formula 2.” 

The girl gave a nervous scoff. “I was terrified.”

Clips of pictures filled the screen. 

“I had just lost the only person in the world who I know still cared for me.” 

“Heir to the Alessandrino Fortune Has Died” 

“Former Italian Karting Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Has Passed Away” 

“Lorenzo Alessandrino, 2001 Formula 2 Champion, Is Dead” 

“Y/n L/n Makes Motor Sport History as the First Woman To Start in Formula 2” 

“L/n Takes the Formula 2 Feature Race” 

“Y/n L/n, History Maker: First Female To Win a Formula 2 Race” 

The headlines fade into a video of the podium. A 25-year-old Max Verstappen is visible, holding the 1st place trophy. He is seen watching the 17-year-old Y/n L/n shed some tears during her national anthem, while pointing to the sky when it finished. He gingerly stepped out and handed it to her when cued. She graciously took it from his hands and offered him a wide smile. Max stepped back, watching the young girl openly cry in front of thousands. On the inside, he wished he had that strength. 

“I could tell something was off that day.” 

A new driver was in the chair. Male, blond, and in the same team uniform as the female was. Anybody who’s anybody knew exactly who that was. 

He sucked in a breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know her or what she had been through at the time. Now knowing, I wish I had given her a hug.” 

Max let out a chuckle as he reminisced on that day. 

The screen flashed and the woman was back in the chair.

“I knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was.” Her hands waved around. “Max Verstappen, probably one of the greatest drivers to grace the grid. No one just skips most of F3 and all of F2. You have to be great. And that was Max.” 

“Was he your favorite driver on the grid at that time?” 

She let out a snort. “Oh gosh no.” 

Everyone in the studio laughed. 

The scene changed to you sitting next to Charles at one of the debriefs in Las Vegas. You had no clue why they put you there, because last you knew, you weren’t driving. However, they had said something about wanting the pole sitter and you (who had done the fastest lap in FP1) to talk for a bit. 

Your cheeks were a bit heated as you were truly sitting next to your hero. Charles could only smirk at your very shy nature next to him. He watched you rattle off about some part of the car and the balance. 

The Monegasque cut in. 

“See, this is why she is perfect to be Max’s teammate. They could talk all day.” 

Everyone around them laughed, along with you who gave some quiet giggles. You rolled your eyes. 

“Let’s not talk about the fact that you have your own ‘Leclerifying’ hmmm?” 

The girl smirked at the camera. “There was a certain McLaren driver that always tried to get the attention of a select Spaniard. If Lando was obsessed with Carlos. I was obsessed with the other Ferrari driver. I tried to get his attention on Twitter, er, well now X a couple of times. It was still Twitter when I was using it.” 

“Of course I noticed her tweets.” 

A new driver was now in the seat once again. This time, he wore the iconic Rosso Corsa team polo.  

Charles smiled as he looked down at the multiple rings on his finger. His hand came up to his neck to fidget with a certain necklace. His smile grew as he thought on the memories. 

“I thought it was sweet. A young driver was trying to keep up with the big leagues. I’m pretty sure I responded a couple of times. And Sebastian had put in a good word for her.”

“Sebastian?”

Charles’s eyes widened as he smirked. 

“Vettel. He’s known her for longer than anyone here has.”  

The scene changed again. 

The girl was back as she clapped her hands.

“Charles made my day whenever he responded. To me it was probably like if Harry Styles responded to a fangirl’s tweet or Instagram. I always hoped that I’d make it to Formula 1 and could maybe drive beside him.”

“We were told that you know retired driver Sebastian Vettel.” 

The blond smirked, not nervous but confident. 

“Yeah, I know him. He was really good friends with my godfather.” 

She leans forwards and fixes her shorts. 

“It’s kind of how Max was close to the Schumacher family. Lorenzo worked with Seb multiple times in the very early 2000’s when Seb was still in karting. I want to say probably even before I was born as well. He was a little bit older than Seb, more like a mentor. I was able to catch up with Sebastian around 2020 and I got to meet a few more people.”

“People such as?” they prodded. 

“Kimi, Nico, Mark. I’m pretty sure I met Lewis like once though when I was pretty young. Like probably around 2015. I got to watch a couple of Formula 1 races with them in 2020.”  

The camera cuts to a man wearing the Mercedes logo on his polo. His braids are kept nicely as he smiles at the camera. They hand him a picture of you and him in 2015. His eyes are wide as he keeps looking at the photo and then to the camera. 

“This was her?” Lewis questioned, letting out a small laugh. His eyes squint as he tries to get a closer look in the dark room. 

The scene changes once again, the female driver back in the seat.

“Were you nervous that you might not have made it? To Formula 1 after what happened in 2020?” 

The blond looked down at her hands. 

“There were a few years where I was convinced that I wouldn’t.”  

The screen fades to more headlines. 

“Y/n L/n enters a second year of Formula 2 with PREMA” 

“The Future for F2’s Only Female Driver is Uncertain” 

“L/n Is Out of the Last F2 Race of the Season” 

“PREMA Drops L/n for Her F2 Final Season?” 

A clip of a meeting of some sorts flashed on the screen. You were looking quite down as you picked at the end of a table as someone read off a paper. You didn’t even want to pay attention as they were nailing the final nail into the coffin.

“Prema Racing has decided to let go of driver number 89, Y/n L/n. After the 2022 season, she will no longer race for or have any affiliations with Prema and will be replaced by Ollie Bearman.” 

You spoke up. “But I have a contract until the end of 2023.” 

The representative glared at you, before looking back at the page and kept reading. “Since driver 89 has underperformed in the past 2 years, Prema has decided to break contract. Compensation will be sent at a later time.” 

Vito had silently grasped your shoulder to offer you some comfort, but the hurt had already been done. You were going into a season for the first time since F4, you didn’t have a secured future in the sport. 

Ollie was sitting on the other side, watching you sadly as they basically read your death sentence. The camera zoomed in on you playing with a pen. If one were to look closely, they could see tears streaming down your cheeks. 

Will was back in the seat. 

“A driver without a contract or team cannot drive.” 

The scene changes back to the driver. 

“I mean. I had other options. On the side I was talking to Sebastian and even Nico. I was trying to keep my eyes open for something, anything. Except, it turned out that I didn’t need to.” 

More headlines flashed.  

“DAMS To Sign Both Leclerc and L/n for 2023” 

“Y/n L/n Wins First Two Races of the 2023 Formula 2 Season” 

“L/n Wins Her Third Race with Teammate Arthur Leclerc Behind Her” 

“Y/n L/n Makes History Once Again: First Female To Win Formula 2 Championship” 

“Y/n L/n: Youngest Driver To Win F2 Championship” 

The girl is back in the chair, the spotlight on her. 

“I didn’t know that I’d get the championship my final year. I was skeptical. I really thought that I wouldn’t be able to, since it was my final year, I had been dropped, and I had a new teammate. But I had a really good teammate and a better team. They really put everything into me being the best driver.” 

“What did you think would happen after everything was over? You had won the championship with 1 race to spare.” 

The girl swallowed before speaking. “Obviously, I thought I didn’t have many options. At the time, it seemed as though every door was closed. I kept talking to my manager about it, and every time he said he would come back empty handed. I even talked to him that morning, and he just had a sad smile on his face.” She paused. “I knew that even though I could be the champion, I had nowhere to go after that.” 

The person in the chair changed. 

“So, that was all a lie,” Vito spoke to the camera, a smile on his face. 

The scene had changed. Vito Accardi, Y/n L/n’s manager, was seated in a chair. It looked like he was stressing over his laptop. Stella, L/n’s  race engineer at the time of 2023, was seated across from him. He was silently tapping a pen on the table as he looked over the words on the screen.  

“Too many junk emails?” she teased, settling into her chair. 

The male shook his head. 

The screen showed multiple contracts up at once, lines upon lines were highlighted. The headers at the top of each contract showed very recognizable logos. 

He smirked as he looked directly at the camera. “I couldn’t tell her anything until I knew that there was something for certain.” 

“How many teams wanted her?” 

“All of them.” 

The scene changed to a past driver’s get-together: one that no one had seen before. The group consisted of Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, Daniel Ricciardo. An odd group, but they were just waiting around (or hiding on a Wednesday). 

Charles was looking down at his phone, while Max was watching him closely. The Monegasque’s fingers were typing at a lightning speed. 

Lando was the one to point it out. 

“What’s got you in a tizzy?” the Briton asked, pulling Charles out of whatever fog he was in. He quickly turned his phone off. 

“Ferrari is wanting to sign someone else, but wouldn’t be able to do so until 2025. Except her manager insists on a seat for 2024.” 

Lewis had his interest piqued. “It is Y/n L/n?” 

“Yeah. My brother has put in great words for her, along with Sebastian. Pierre also says that Alpine is thinking of options too.  She’s,” he huffed, “very good. Almost a little too good.”  

The other Mercedes driver took a sip of his drink. “Toto was just talking to me about that, but he said the same thing. There aren’t any seats available until 2025. But he wants her.” 

Lando rolled his eyes. “So we’ve all gotten the talk about how all the team principals want to sign her. Even McLaren is speaking about how to get her a seat somewhere. Testing driver or something like that.” 

The older Spaniard spoke up. “It would be foolish not to. She has generational talent. Stroll is looking at her as well.” 

“So are we. Except there aren’t any seats,” an Aussie added. 

Max was quietly reading almost every article he could get his hands on about her. In the back of his mind, he knew that Checo was going to retire after this year (especially after what happened at Mexico). He quickly sent one to Christian, only getting a thumbs up. 

Daniel bumped Max. “You’ve been quiet over there. What are your thoughts on the potential rookie?” 

The Dutchman looked up. “What rookie?”

The scene changed back to the Italian man. 

“I’ve been her manager for years. I knew exactly what she needed at that moment. Sure, I could have told her, but I knew she wanted to race in 2024 and not wait. I’m not her manager for nothing.” 

“How did you get in touch with Red Bull’s Christian Horner.”��

The man adjusted in the chair. “Well, even though she wasn’t on their junior team, the actual brand Red Bull was one of her sponsors in karting.” 

The scene changes once again, this time the Team Principal of the currently reining team was now in the seat. 

“Vito had gotten in contact with me when she first started F2,” the older Briton said. “But we wanted to see what would happen. We took a chance at Max, way back then. But this was a bit different.” 

The interviewer asked, “Because she was a girl?” 

Christian shook his head. 

“Because she was 16 at the start: younger than Max was by two years. Sure, she turned 17 at the end of the season due to a later birthday in October. But, we took a step back to see what she could do, especially now that they changed the age rules after Max. She was dropped by PREMA, and we almost took the chance then to maybe bring her in as a development driver. But, Vito was adamant about her wanting a championship. She wanted records broken, and she did.” 

“How did everything go down? Before she knew.” 

He smiled.

“I called him right after I got the article from Max. Youngest to win an F2 Championship and a female on top of that.” 

“Was everything pretty smooth sailing?” 

He shook his head. “I was advised not to sign her, but I was told ‘no’ for Max and you see where that got me. I wasn’t going to let her go to a team that wouldn’t let her shine.” 

The scene changes to the RB19 being driven out at the mock track for training. The girl’s white helmet was a stark contrast against the deep navy of the car. The camera panned to the mock pit wall. Multiple people pressed buttons as they watched you take lap after lap. 

A much older man just looked on with pinched eyebrows, not really interested in seeing what the girl had to offer.

After the final testing times had been clocked, he stood up and slammed his papers on a table, before he left the pits. Christian smirked as he watched him stalk off. He knew he made the right call for the second time. 

“How did it feel being in the seat for the first time?” 

The girl, back in the seat, responded, “It felt surreal.” 

She kept talking as the screen faded into clips of the car. 

The aerial view watched as the car look several laps: getting close ups and shots of the car going around the corners.  

“I went from having the door slammed into my face to the door being blown to bits.” 

“Did Vito ever tell you that he was talking to multiple people at once?” 

She looked at the camera. “He did. But he knew what I needed. That’s why he’s been my manager since 2018.” 

The scene changes to multiple flashing cameras as the girl walked into the paddock for the first time in Vegas. The cameras followed as she straight up walked to the group of older guys, introduced herself, and followed Max as he walked away. The rest of the guys watched her animatedly talk to the man who hated every second of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. 

“The beginning of your season was filled with a lot of highs,” 

The screen flashes to multiple clips of you raising trophies, especially highlighting your podium in Bahrain. 

“And lows.” 

The female’s eyebrows raised. “No kidding.” 

The scene changes to your car flipping in Suzuka before panning to people’s reactions. Many people immediately stood up. Others put their hands over their mouths. Many stayed sitting, frozen in shock over what they just saw. 

The screen fades to black, but radio messages can be heard. 

“Kid, you have to answer me.” 

“Tell me you’re ok. You need to respond.” 

“I can’t lose you too.” 

Charles was back in the chair. Tears could be seen in his lash line as he exhaled a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, trying to get over his emotions. 

“A crash like that doesn’t happen every day. It was awful, just waiting to hear back from her. Really took me back to 2014. Reminded me of Jules. On the same track. Rain. I don’t think I would have finished the season if she hadn’t made it.” 

The scene changes to multiple marshals standing around the car, trying to get to you. Except, you were trapped. They didn’t want to start cutting, just in case there was a fuel leak. They did not need for the car to catch fire.  

“I remember watching Lewis just turn around,” George said, now that he was in the seat. “He kept shaking his head and muttering. I couldn’t stop crying.” 

“Y/n is a driver who was shy at the beginning, but then got more comfortable with you as time passed. She became precious to everyone on the grid.” Oscar offered a smile, but it fell short as he remembered Suzuka. 

“There hadn’t-” Lewis began, but cut short. He swallowed before he kept going. “There hadn’t been a crash like that since 2014. And the last time it happened, he didn’t make it. I was honestly preparing myself for the worst.” 

Max shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant. Yet, anyone could see that his hands were shaking just a bit, his fingers picking at his skin. 

“She just wouldn’t answer. And then they got Arthur Leclerc on the radio, thinking that he could get to her. Even then, she didn’t respond for what felt like hours. We were all waiting, on the pit lane, just hoping that she’d start talking soon.” 

“What did it feel like for you in the car?” 

The female was back in the seat. 

“All I really remember was seeing the sky and the grass as I rolled, and then nothing. I had totally blacked out. When I was coming to, I just remember hearing so much through the radio, I didn’t know what to make of it. I think I laughed as I answered. I was just happy to be alive.” 

“We know that was your first DNF. Thankfully the second wasn’t as bad.” 

“No kidding,” she laughed. “My car just doesn’t have very good balance.” 

“You’ve had lots of podiums. Which one was the most fulfilling?” 

The girl looked up in thought. Her eyes narrowed, truly going over her options. She didn’t want to have to talk about certain matters, but she didn’t want it to be brought up later. 

She answered, “Imola.” 

“What was so special or daunting because of it?” 

The blond harshly inhaled, before smirking a bit. “Well, lot of people knew how it ended.” 

The scene changes to multiple police cars around the paddock. The camera barely caught a glimpse of two people being let away in handcuff before panning over to the group of drivers. The lens zoomed in on your face, a big bruise forming by your eye. Max was standing protectively near you as Christian was still yelling at the people in the car. The other drivers can be seen hovering around the scene. 

Max gulped before he sighed. 

“I knew it was bad, but not this bad. I’m just glad that I had gotten to her in time.” 

The female stretched. “Except I got a trophy out of it, so, I wasn’t too sad.” 

The scene changes to the next race, where most of the drivers were waiting for the parade. They could tell that someone was missing. Except, right when Lando was about to bring it up, you walked in. Sunglasses were on your eyes, trying to hide the ugly yellow and purple blotch on your face. Except, it didn’t do too much to actually hide it. 

“Afternoon,” you said, sipping on a drink that you brought. Your fingers took off your glasses, multiple drivers wincing. “It’s not that bad.” 

Lando rolled his eyes before muttering, “They shouldn’t have been allowed back in.” 

Max handed you an icepack, which you grabbed immediately. Logan brought you into a side hug and let you rest against him.  

The Dutchman let everyone know that you had finally gotten your restraining order approved. Smiles adorned the rest of the drivers’ faces at the news. 

An older Aussie was now in the seat. 

“I wasn’t there when she met everyone. But I watched Max let her follow him, in Vegas. It was cute, ‘cause I’ve never seen Max act like that before. But she’ s been a good teammate to him. Not trying to be rude, but I’m also putting myself down when I say this: she has been the best teammate that Max has ever had.” 

The scene changes to you and Max in a car on the way to a race. The two of you are seated next to each other and phones are in your hands. A sudden gasp from you has you reaching over to Max, your hand smacking his chest. 

The Dutchman winces. “What?” 

“Taylor Swift broke up with Travis Kelce. Fernando has his chance.” 

Viewers would have thought that Max would seem uninterested, but his eyes widened and he was suddenly leaning over, trying to get a good look at your phone. 

“You’re lying.” 

“No I’m not. See?” You just handed your phone over and Max was instantly enthralled with the device, fingers scrolling quickly. 

“It’s definitely like they have a competitive sibling relationship.” 

Max watched as you were talking to Oscar, the afternoon after you hit his car. Max smirked as he walked past and bumped you on purpose. Your head whipped around, trying to find who did that. Once you saw Max’s shoulders shake as he walked away, it was over. You quickly said goodbye to Oscar before running up to Max. 

What he did not expect was for you to jump on his back, almost sending him face first into cement. He stumbled but his arms were quick to grab your legs. Your giggles were loud next to his ear, but Max guessed that he’d let you stay. 

“I know for a fact that it’s been good to see Max a bit more carefree. Y/n really brings out the good in him. She really does that to everyone though.” 

Rain was pouring down in Brazil, due to a hurricane in the area. The race had been canceled and Max was just chilling in the garage. His eyes caught your figure walking out into the downpour. He watched as you just stood there, getting drenched. That was until you started dancing to no music at all. 

Max got up from his seat and walked over to a manager. 

“May I?” he asked, the manager nodding his head. 

He plugged his phone into a jack and clicked on a specific playlist that the two of you had made together. Normally, it would be playing while the two of you warmed up to get ready in the car. But now it was playing as you continued to dance. 

Max quickly joined you and bumped you with his hip. The cameras caught you looking up at your older teammate, whose body was quickly getting drenched. Before long, the two of you were dancing in the rain. 

And very possibly, the other drivers joined in too. 

“She really cares for him. It was like they met and clicked right away.” 

Clips of you and Max filled the screen. Walking together in the paddock, signing things for fans, doing stupid things for media day, congratulating each other after races. 

It showed you checking on him after a DNF, wanting a legitimate answer if he was okay or not. Once Max gave the thumbs up and Mitch told you that he was, the cameras in your car showed how your body visibly relaxed after know that he was ok. 

“Sure, they’ve had their troubles.” 

The scene changes to Max passing you in Monaco. 

Your voice was heard over the scene. “What an asshole.”

The scene changed to you not letting Max pass and him hitting the back of your RB20 in Belgium. 

“That was a rookie mistake.” 

The viewers knew that they had deliberately cut a certain action out of the scene, but it was something that they were actually thankful that Netflix cut. 

“But they always apologize and get back to it. I think that’s how she got her first win. She needed to know that they could truly work as a team.” 

The scene showed you and Max giving each other a big hug in The Netherlands after Max won the Dutch Grand Prix. 

The scene changes once more. 

“How was it? Winning in the city of red.” 

“Words cannot express.” 

The screen showed you walking in on that fateful morning, bright orange car in the background. You waved to the crowds, who seemed to get louder with your attention. Your smile brightly shone as you kept walking, only stopping momentarily for a few autographs and pictures. 

“Y/n L/n On Pole in Monza – Youngest Pole Sitter in F1 History”

“There she goes! Y/n L/n has won the 2024 Italian Grand Prix. She was starving, but now she’s been satiated. The youngest pole sitter and turned that into a win.”  

“Y/n L/n – First Female To Ever Win a Formula 1 Grand Prix” 

"Y/n L/n Hailed as 'The Long Awaited' by Italian Fans"

The camera pans to the girl standing on the nose of her car, hands stretched up reaching for the sky. Max, who had DNF earlier, came over. She grasped him tightly, legs around his waist. Christian was behind them, joining in the celebrations. Soon, the entirety of the crew got over the barrier and flooded the area. The two Ferrari drivers, in a respectable P2 and P3, watched as the female driver was almost covered by people. If it wasn’t them, then they were glad it was her. 

The blond returned back to the seat. 

“Let me tell you, the after party was probably my favorite part of the weekend. Well, besides the winning part.” 

“After Monza, how did the rest of the season go.” 

“Well, I did go on to win 3 more races.” The girl smirked. 

Clips of the number 89 car crossing the finish line cover the screen. 

“Y/n L/n takes her second win of the season after Monza in Mexico! 

It showed you waving to the crowds of Mexico, flag draped over your shoulders with a sombrero on your head.. 

“A homecoming of sorts, Y/n L/n wins a third race under the lights of Las Vegas! 

Your fists were clenched as you shook them while your knees were bent. The while Elvis suit kind of glowed against the night sky. 

“L/n wins her fourth race of the season in Abu Dhabi. Ending a perfect rookie year on a high!” 

The crowds watch you get on your hands and knees before your car. Your hands outstretched in almost a mock bow to the machine. 

The scenes show the you hoisting up three more trophies, all while pointing to the sky after each one.  

The interviewer looked down at their questions, before glancing back up at the girl. 

“What was your worst race? One that you didn’t DNF.” 

The girl didn’t even hesitate. “Qatar.” 

“Why is that?” 

She shrugged. “I thought it would be cooler.” 

The screen goes black, but then changes to a very busy scene. People could see medical personelle holding onto a driver by their arms. Their legs all but dragged along the concrete. Lights flashed around as they brought her to a makeshift cot. Her helmet was ripped off along with the cloth under it. You gasped as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks were red and your hair matted with sweat. 

“I need an IV and cooling towels now!” 

“Her blood pressure is dropping, she’s going to pass out again.” 

“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.” 

“Her breath is more shallow, she needs to cool down. Get buckets of ice and water.” 

It changes to a podium, but only two drivers are present. It was supposed to be a Papaya sandwich after Oscar had gotten his first actual race win. They looked worried and barely stayed for the celebrations. 

The cameras followed as the orange drivers as they ran to the Red Bull garage once the podium was finished. They expected to see you still unconscious, since that was the last they heard before the podium. Yet, they were surprised to see you upright and smiley. An IV was connected to your arm, but you were awake. 

Oscar ran, before wrapping his arms around you. 

“Do not do that again. I can’t believe that you kept racing.” 

You smiled up at him and Lando. 

“What can I say? I’m indestructible.” 

“She’s impressive.” A German voices his opinion now that he’s in the seats. “I don’t wish to say it, but I’m glad she’s at the different team. I don’t know if we would have been able to give her the car that she needed.” 

The interviewer looks a Toto for a moment, before continuing. “You think she’ll leave Red Bull at some point in her career?” 

The Mercedes Team Principal shakes his head. “No. She’s going to stay until she retires. I’m sure of it. But who am I to talk about staying with a team forever.” 

The scene changes to you and Max, both casually hanging out. You sighed as you looked down at your phone. Max quirked an eyebrow, but stayed silent, giving you the go ahead to spill. 

“They’re asking again if I’m going to be staying past 2026.” Your arms waved around before you huffed and they fell at your sides. 

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Are you wanting to stay past that?” 

You grinned at the older driver. “Can’t go anywhere when I have the best here.” 

The scene changes to the blond female Red Bull racer, back in the chair once again.

“Do you think you’ll ever move teams?” 

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will. It seems that every racer’s dream is to drive for the team in red, but not mine. I’ve always wanted to just race for the team that will get me places, and I think that Red Bull can stay on top for many years to come.” 

The interviewer continued. “What do you think you’ll do after Formula 1.” 

She smirked. 

“After, I want to collect. I’m thinking the triple crown. Probably go to endurance racing and then 1 year of Indy. I know I’ll be able to do it.” 

“If you could have your dream team for Le Mans, who would it be?” 

“Either Leclerc in addition to Max. I don’t think I could be anyone else’s teammate ever.” 

Clips of Charles, Arthur, Y/n, and Max showed on the screen. They might look like an odd bunch, but they worked somehow. Arthur had been promoted at the end of 2024 to actually drive for Porsche in the 2025 Qatar endurance race. Late in the editing, they were able to sneak in a clip of the four of you celebrating after he podiumed.  

“So, we heard that you and Max were able to sign new contracts at the end of 2024. How long are the both of you going to stay.” 

The girl thought for a moment, trying to think of how to word it correctly. 

“Well, we both have kind of open ended contracts like Charles signed in early 2024. Christian said that he’ll do his best to keep us there, but we aren’t bound. I plan to stay for a while and so does Max if they keep giving us good cars that can still dominate.” 

“Do you plan to break any more records? You sure had a lot in the past season as well as early years.” 

“How many do I have?” she asked. 

The interviewer counted. “Five.” 

She smirked for the final time for the episode. “Five? That’s hardly enough. Let’s make it interesting and get 6.”  

Everyone in the room laughed at her joke. 

The screen cut to black and the episode ended. Yet when the female racer retired, they went back and added one more thing. 

“Y/n L/n went on to be the most decorated racer of all time. She ended up breaking 22 records in the duration of her entire motorsport career, that no one has been able to touch since.” 

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[chrkrose]

I think fandom needs to accept a certain fact regardless of their bias or headcanons: Nettles isn’t Daemon’s biological daughter. Period. No, there’s not “if” or “but”. End of discussion. She simply isn’t.

I’m not gonna argue about the nature of Nettles and Daemon’s relationship, because that is something that is up for interpretation (even though I think people oversell the idea that George wrote it to be this super ambiguous situation where we don’t know the truth. I think it’s pretty obvious what the truth is about, but I digress).

I’m talking about facts. And here they are:

Nettles was born in 113AC

Daemon was away from Westeros from 111AC to 115AC.

This is stated in several asoiaf books: Fire & Blood, A World of Ice and Fire and so on. It’s simply not possible for Daemon to be Nettles’ biological father, because he wasn’t even in Westeros during the time Nettles would have been conceived.

Fire&Blood is written by unreliable sources, but that doesn’t mean every piece of factual information is suspect. Core dates and events such as Daemon fighting a war on the Stepstones aren’t up for debate. “Oh, but what if he secretly returned to Westeros” “what if her mother was at the war and ran away” “what if” then George would have written it. Because this is all from George’s mind and if he wanted it that way, he would have it written that way. As it is, he hasn’t. And if we are going to bend canon so it can embrace our headcanons, then I might as well go as far and say that actually, Aegon was secretly named heir by Viserys and Rhaenyra was excluded from the line of succession, and are we sure Daemon wasn’t actually a woman and married to Viserys because at this point I’m just making up shit.

These are the facts as they are. Take it or leave it, ignore it or not, they won’t change. If you want to headcanon that they were father/daughter, feel free to do so. But that’s all that will be: a headcanon. It’s not a theory. It’s not a “maybe”. In canon, it’s not a possibility.

Daemon is not her biological father.