#team lh needs to take a seat

[mcmuppet]

🚨NEW LANDO GATE🚨

LANDO NORRIS *checks notes* RESPECTS LEWIS HAMILTON, LIKES RACING AGAINST HIM, AND *one more glance at notes* IS HAPPY FOR HIM FOR EXTENDING HIS CONTRACT

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Two

GR, CL, MV, LH x fem!reader Warnings: angsty drivers, more filth (masturbation, smut) WC: 3k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three

“Oh my word, what is going on?” David Croft, the official F1 commentator, was aghast at what he was seeing on the track in front of him and his voice echoed across the paddock from the loudspeakers. “This is looking like a repeat of Australia and nobody wants to see that again.”

You slunk down in your seat and pulled your hat further down your head. Maybe sending those nudes hadn’t been the best idea. It had been four weeks since the last race and to say you were feeling needy was a massive understatement. You hadn’t been able to stop yourself from sending your men some enticing pictures before the race.

“And there goes Gasly, into the gravel. We’ll have to see the replay on that but I think it was his own teammate that made contact with him. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was Alpine on Alpine going into the corner and now Gasly will have a lot of time to make up for it. Ocon will be lucky if he doesn’t get a penalty for that aggressive move.”

You looked at the place board and saw the seven drivers who had already retired from the turbulent race. Max was one of them, and he was pissed.

You shoved the phone back in your purse and cheered with the rest of the grandstand as Lewis passed by, holding first position with 12 laps to go. Right on his tail was Charles but the real battle was taking place behind him for the third step on the podium. 

It was a dog fight between Fernando, Esteban and Lando with less than a second separating each car. You screamed louder than anyone else as they shot past the lap line and a few heads turned your way but you ignored them. You weren’t even in bed and these guys were making you scream. 

Another lap passed without incident but then the fight for third took a dangerous turn when Lando pushed Fernando wide and Esteban tried to take advantage by slipping past on the inside. Fernando ended up grazing his car along the wall while Lando thought he was in the clear only to clip the front wing of Esteban’s car and the two of them careened off the track. 

Shock rippled through the crowd as another three cars were retired and their drivers were pulled apart by the marshalls that were trying to clear the track under a red flag. It was messy and you could almost taste the testosterone in the charged atmosphere.

“I don’t even have words to describe this race,” David commented. “That will be the third restart and what a change that makes to the standings. We have Hamilton in P1, Leclerc P2, Stroll P3, followed by Sainz, Russell, Gasly, then miraculously both Williams’ and AlphaTauri’s drivers are almost guaranteed those much needed but elusive points - if they can just stay on the track and cross the finish line in one piece.”

You couldn’t sit and listen to the spectators around you any longer. They all asked variations of the same question - what the hell had happened to the drivers? Blue balls was the answer. That’s what had happened after four weeks with no racing: all those explosive male hormones were building and building, and your nudes had struck the match.

You had been messaging most of the guys over the mid-season break, exchanging scandalous messages and promises of what they could do the next time they were on the podium, but you had stopped short of meeting up with any of them - no matter how much they begged. Your pussy hated you for denying it the pleasure but the waiting only increased the anticipation and made the climax all the better. 

Plus the teasing was fun.

You slipped out of the grandstand and made your way to the motorhomes behind another fence for security. Ever since that first wild night you had received a Paddock Pass for every race and become a familiar face to the teams, though they never knew the extent of your ‘friendships’ with the drivers. 

“Max isn’t here,” Tommy said just as you reached the door to the luxurious motorhome. 

You winked at the Red Bull assistant and pressed a finger to your lips. “I’m just leaving him a commiseration gift. It’s a surprise, so no blabbering.”

The busy man left with a shake of his head and you closed the door behind you, sliding the bolt into place so no unexpected visitors could interrupt you. 

Max’s bed was made with the precision you would expect from someone trained in the military, not a racer, and there wasn’t a single crease in the duvet cover. 

“You’re such a perfectionist,” you muttered before jumping onto the bed and messing it up. His scent still clung to the pillow and you grabbed it as you rolled onto your knees, shoving it between your legs before hiking your dress up to your waist. 

You grabbed your phone and set it up against the headboard as you hit record. “I’m going to miss you tonight, Maxy.” You sucked on your fingers before trailing them down your body and pushing your panties aside. “It could’ve been you I was riding.” 

You moaned as you ground yourself shamelessly over your fingers and his pillow. Your head fell back and you grabbed your throat, gently squeezing it as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Oh, Max,” you cried out, rolling your hips faster until the wet sounds of your pussy filled the air and were definitely picked up by the microphone. “You’re going to dream of me tonight when you lay your head on this pillow. It’s going to make you so hard, you’re going to fuck your hand and imagine it’s my cunt squeezing you tight until you explode.”

Your words ignited the orgasm that had been building and you cried out as you came all over his pillow. Your body shuddered from the aftershocks and you tasted the release on your fingers, knowing it would drive him wild when he saw it. “Sweet dreams, Maxy.”

You made it back to the grandstand in time to see the final lap and you were on your feet screaming with the rest of the crowd as Lewis crossed the finish line first, soon followed by Charles and Carlos. You were giddy at the thought of sharing the three of them later and joined the mass of people as they began to make their way down to the track that was opening to the public.

You were well versed at having to push your way through the crowd and you knew you had time to get to the front since the winners were still on the big screen having their post-race interviews. You were only half listening to them as you inched your way closer to the stage. 

“There was a very competitive atmosphere out there today, why do you think that was?”

Carlos and Charles looked at each other before looking down to hide the knowing grin they shared but it was Lewis that answered the interviewer.

“I mean first and foremost it is a race, so it will always be competitive. But, I think, for me at least, it’s been a long four weeks off the track and we were all eager to get back behind the wheel and more importantly back on the podium.” 

“Speaking of podiums, it looks like our time is up.” He shook hands with Lewis, then Charles and Carlos. “Congratulations once again. Well deserved.”

You reached the front barricade as the guys climbed the stairs to the stage up above and their eyes scanned the crowd knowing you were somewhere among the throngs. Carlos spotted you first and slapped Charles’ chest before pointing your way. You blew them a kiss and gave them a wink, their smiles growing as they stepped closer to the glass balustrade. You crossed your arms and to anyone else it would have been an innocent gesture but from their vantage point it pushed your breasts to the very edge of your low cut dress. 

Your phone vibrated in your purse and since you weren’t all that interested in the national anthems playing you pulled it out. Your scoff was swallowed by the sound of the crowd and you searched the shadows around the cordoned off areas to find Max staring back. Even with the distance you could see the harsh cut of his jaw as he clenched his teeth and his arms were crossed defensively over his chest. 

You didn’t even bother to address the message he had sent, instead you replied with the video you had taken in his bed. You watched with a keen interest as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone. 

Blue eyes turned to black as his pupils dilated and he ran a hand through his hair, tugging the dirty blond strands while he fisted his phone on the other. His thumbs flew across the keyboard as he typed his response before turning his back and leaving the celebration while you started at the reply.

You're going to pay for that.

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot At the body shop, doing something unholy

The heat on the dance floor was quickly soaring as hands roamed your body. Charles’ entire front was pressed against your back and controlled the sway of your hips to the music as his lips grazed your neck and he whispered filthy words for only you to hear. 

He wasn’t alone.

Lewis and Carlos’ bodies encircled you, obscuring your obscene display of affection from the dense crowd dancing to the music too. They were taking advantage of the disorienting strobe lights and the fact everyone else was in a drunken world of their own, it was daring even for them.

Charles pinned your hands behind your back, trapping them between your bodies, as Lewis stepped closer and used his thigh to push your legs apart. Cool air rushed in and kissed the heat of your pussy as your skirt rode up higher the more Lewis nudged your thighs apart.

“Hermosa,” Carlos groaned as he noticed the lack of lace panties beneath. “You forgot something when you were getting ready.”

You licked your lips and leaned back against Charles so your dress pulled up even higher and Lewis cursed lowly. 

“I didn’t forget anything.”

And when you want it, baby, I know I got you covered And when you need it, baby, just jump under the covers

Your cry was swallowed by the chorus as they descended on you. 

Carlos’ fingers were at your entrance, gathering the evidence of your need and using it to glide over your clit while Lewis and Charles left burn marks on your neck from the short beards they sported. Their hands cupped and squeezed and probed until you were lost to the overwhelming sensations and ready to float away like the clouds of dry ice around the room. 

“Unless you’re planning to fuck me on the dance floor, we need to go.”

“The idea has crossed my mind,” Charles admitted between sucking at the sensitive skin below your ear. 

“Time to go,” Lewis ordered before you could reach for his belt buckle, the only one out of the three men capable of using his head to think with and not his dick.

Carlos pouted as he pulled your dress back into place but he knew it would be coming off in a matter of minutes when he got you upstairs. 

The music drifted away as the elevator doors closed in the lobby and Charles pushed you back into Lewis’ arms. “Don’t let her move,” he warned as he dropped to his knees.

Carlos’ hand slapped over your mouth in time to smother the moan that was ready to fill the small elevator when Charles’ tongue teased over your clit. You squirmed as you tried to roll your hips, silently begging for more, but Lewis curled a strong arm around your waist and pinned you to his body. 

The floor levels ticked by and the higher they rose the closer you got to heaven. 

Everywhere you looked you were blessed with the sight of the men around you and their infinite reflections in the mirrored walls. Even when your head fell back in ecstasy you swayed under the image on the ceiling, spying Charles’ eyes that rolled up to look at you coming undone over his tongue.

Ding!

Charles rose swiftly to his feet, pulling your dress back into place before the doors opened and a body filled the doorway. He already knew what had happened from the dazed look in your eyes and the way Lewis had to support your unsteady legs by holding you against him.

“What the fuck, Max?” Carlos asked as he stepped in front of you, Charles too busy wiping his lips to speak.

You wouldn’t say you were shocked to see him somehow get your room number from the receptionist - he was a world champion - no one would say no to him, even if it was a breach of privacy. You actually found his tenacity extremely hot, that and the way he stood blocking the exit with fire in his eyes. 

“Mate, move out of the way,” Lewis said as he shifted you into Charles’ arms, though your legs were no longer trembling.

Max ignored them all and held your stare. “What’s my number, babygirl?”

You shook your head to try and clear the haze that your orgasm and the champagne had brought upon you but it didn’t work and you asked him confused, “What?”

“What. Is. My. Race. Number?” he asked, taking a step closer with each enunciation.

“One?”

“Good girl, that’s correct.” Max smirked as he came to a stop in front of Lewis and looked at you over his shoulder. “I think that means I won.”

“That’s bullshit, you DNF’d get over it,” Charles stated, knowing well enough the pain of missing out on a night with you because he crashed out earlier in the season. 

“Wait,” you said, stepping between the four of them. “What if he’s right? What if the reigning champ can have me whenever they choose, off-track too?” You circled around the group seeing them contemplating it. “After today's race standings you all have a shot at winning the championship.”

“Hang on,” Max interrupted but you held up a finger to your lips to silence him.

“My body, my rules. So, what d’ya say boys?”

Lewis, Carlos and Charles looked at each other for a moment before Lewis’ lips parted in a grin. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“Did you not see how fucking messy it was out there today?” Max asked, stunned by the turn of events.

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Carlos chuckled before looking at his team mate. 

“Max is right, it’s going to be an expensive season for repairs,” Charles said with a shake of his head before locking eyes with you and starting to smile, “but it’s not my money. I’m in.”

You walked out of the elevator, patting Max’s hard chest as you passed by. “This is what you wanted, big guy. Now, are you coming, or do you want to brood in the hallway all night?”

It was no surprise that he came, and came, and came again. 

All of the men were athletes and the stamina showed when they were ready to go round after round. You were an overstimulated mess when you collapsed on the sofa, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You could barely think with your head on cloud nine and their cum leaking down your legs.

“Our little cum slut is cock drunk,” Max teased as he took a seat beside you and pulled your head onto his lap. “You have another round in you, don’t you, babygirl?”

The sofa shifted as Carlos sat down at the other end, his strong hands starting to massage your feet. “Let her rest for a minute.”

“Just because you have nothing left,” Max scoffed and turned your head to him. His thumb traced your swollen lips with a smirk before parting your mouth. “Some of us can go all night. Right, Hamilton?”

Lewis barely lifted his head up from where he lay sprawled across the carpet, his chest rising and falling fast as he caught his breath. He had absolutely ruined you with the fast pace he had set while he knelt behind you and fucked you until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Charles had been there to keep you up on your hands and knees with a fist full of your hair, right before he filled your mouth with his cock to silence the screams of pleasure.

All Lewis could do was raise his thumb in response as Charles returned to the living room with an armful of water bottles from the minibar. He tossed one to each of the guys before kneeling beside your head and cracking the lid of another and raising it to your lips. The cool liquid quickly soothed your dry throat and chased away some of the exhaustion that had settled into your relaxed muscles. 

“Better, hermosa?” Carlos asked as his massage crept higher up your legs.

“Mhmm,” you sighed contentedly, letting your knees part for him. The temperature in the room rose rapidly and even Lewis found the strength to rise from the ground to drink in the sight. You might as well have just hung an open for business sign out and you chuckled at the hungry looks they shared. “Much better.”

Click here for part three.

Tagging: @slytherheign @alwaysclassyeagle

[georgegraphys]

To be honest, I would not fully trust Ola Kallenius either despite his words backing George. Why? Because he's a part of this big multinational corporation and this multinational corporation is FAR from the word 'good'.

But what we're talking about is taking advantage of George being favorable in their eyes for now. Read that 'for now' again. To manipulate the long terms, you need to take advantage of what is happening in short terms first. You can't be thinking too far ahead, overthinking and speculating about things, and making rash decisions over some speculations. That'd be a self-fulfilling prophecy. You can't play the short game when you're in a position like George. You have to play the long game.

If I were to be REAL honest here, I do want George to take Red Bull's offer back in 2021 because they're great, they're fast, they're amazing. But looking at the other aspects here, you wouldn't want him to be there. You should stop seeing things from just a two dimensional perspective. Moving teams solves nothing and i think we learnt enough from several drivers who made the wrong choice due to greed and being impatient.

In every part of an organization, there is something called homeowners. Just like Max's home is RB and Charles' home (might be) is Ferrari, George's home is Mercedes. And that is a solid thing for 2-3 upcoming years unless something happened. Why do i say so? Because these teams aren't the backmarkers where everyone is replaceable, they are the frontrunners with big brands behind them that not only values winning and racing but also values loyalty, brand image, and more. What they're also trying to find is someone who could be the face of the team for a long time not just 2-3 seasons and dip.

And let's take things real here. If Mercedes did NOT value George, they wouldn't pressure him to make a decision between choosing BMW or Mercedes very early in his formula series career. Why is it important? Because if George is not important to them, the moment George rejects Toto for Carlin Volkswagen is the moment they back out and move on. But they didn't. That is exhibit one.

Exhibit two is that in 2018, Mercedes is torn on who to give an F1 seat. Ocon or Russell? We all know the answer in 2019. Exhibit three, in 2020 when George's 2021 seat is threatened with Williams, Red Bull allegedly offered Mercedes to 'lend' George out to them for a year but Mercedes REFUSED because they do not want George outside of their institution even for a year (even if that 'lend out' move benefits Mercedes because from there Mercedes can see how George performs in better car). They'd rather George go jobless and drive in DTM for a year rather than lending him out to Red Bull. If Mercedes does not care about him, they would let him leave just like they let Ocon leave to go to Alpine.

And fourth, we have Kallenius basically on Toto's neck about how he wants George on that seat and not Max or Valtteri or whoever Toto wants. Then we also have Mercedes literally going feral on the mention of George going somewhere else (read: RBR). This happened on the same day as the British GP

My point here is if they do not give a shit, if they do not at the very least back George up, they would have let George go in 2021. And if you're saying "but that's 2021, Ari. We're talking about now", then look at his previous contract renewal. We're supposed to have George's silly season THIS YEAR because his original contract with Merc is supposed to end this year but we DIDN'T! Why? Because the contract is already renewed somewhere in December 2022 or Spring 2023! Again if they're planning to replace him, they would not make him sign a contract just for several months to his Merc career. And to add on top of that, George literally talks about how his contract is so EASILY signed and Mercedes and him were giggling over it like a married couple while LH and Mercedes (read: Kallenius) were in trenches, fighting endless war for a contract negotiation.

We cannot be 100% sure on the long run on who backs who even with Max in Red Bull. There is NOTHING certain in F1. Things change drastically. This is a very dynamic sport. But to manipulate the longer term, you need to take a hold of shorter terms first. If Kallenius, for now, sees George in a favorable place, that's good. But if in the future, he doesn't then it is what it is. It's business. You can't be idealistic about it. Moving teams is NEVER the solution unless you want George to make a decision blunder like other drivers who weren't patient enough.

It is painful but we have to play the long game.

[stateofcharles]

With Toto’s obsession over Max and Kimi, do you think George’s seat at risk??

I am seriously getting anxious about his seat, he’s entering the last year of his deal, Toto is continually obsessed with different drivers and continually undermines him continuously. It’s not a good look that Mercedes don’t seem to want to put their faith in him publicly, which has lead to the cult & the wider fandom actually questioning his talent, and it makes me anxious.

i trust in the non-toto people at mercedes (read: shov, jallison and also ola in extreme circumstances) to acknowledge not only george’s talent, but also everything he has sacrificed for mercedes, before and after getting the seat. the team has not given him many chances to prove himself, but in those rare cases (read: spa 24 and brasil 22 if you only take into consideration his wins + others) he has proved that he is a future wdc.

about verstappen, i doubt he will choose mercedes if they keep fucking up races like has happened lately. also horner is gonna want to keep him as long as he can (unless they reeeeally fuck up) and i’m quite sure he will use everything he has to do so.

plus, it might seem irrelevant to the average f1 watcher, but the williams years were crucial for george. it was there where he developed many of the skills that make him a great driver (not my judgment! experts have acknowledged it!)

it all boils down to: toto is rather incompetent when it comes to actually nurturing talent, he wants already experienced drivers but spoiler!!! they are not born with experience!! they need to build it!! reason why i believe kimi mercedes 25 -if it happens- it’s gonna be a flop and it will make torger regret being born probably.

+ last, when next year he’ll realise that cult lh has (finally) disappeared from mercedes’ ass, (maybe) he’ll finally understand what a driver he has in his hands

[gossipgirloff1]

signing checo actually seems logical on red bull's part and not just because of money and sponsorships. i feel like the media perspective has become such that checo is portrayed as a very bad driver but that RB20 is really undriveable if you're not max verstappen. alex albon had also said this in an interview, how the car is very agressive on the front wing and is generally undriveable unless you have the skills to match. people underestimate checo's ability. he's able to drive and get decent results in such an agressive car. and hot take but carlos is not better than checo. everyone in the media bills him as the second coming of verstappen or hamilton but he's just not. he's a great midfielder (don't take it as me undermining him, he's a very good driver who deserves a seat next year). and i think a big slight on red bull's part is depending too much on max to get results. max is not going to be around forever, they need to find a young talent to take over once max retires. carlos is older than max and no one really knows how many years one has left in the sport. he's not at the level of alonso or hamilton. and daniel should've been out just like they dumped nyck. i don't know what kind of blackmail he has on red bull or how much dick riding he has done to horner but he should've never been brought back. and if the rumours of renewal are true then that's an error on visa team's part. they don't rate Yuki seriously even though he's carrying that team on his back since Pierre left in 2023. Liam should've been given the seat, in that way they could atleast gauge how well he's going to perform.

the carlos fans (or fans in general) calling Lewis Hamilton, 7x time world champion washed really do have some audacity when their fav is a 3x race winner who is consistently beaten by his teammate in race h2h. the reason teams are betting on an "aging" hamilton instead of Sainz is not just because of the brand value he brings with himself, it's because he's proved that he really is one of the greats in the sport (emphasis on 'one of the' before fans come and call me a delulu team lh fans(team lh is sometimes delulu tho 🙈) carlos will surely get a seat but his only hope at a no 1 driver seat is Audi and if him signing to Williams is true then yeesh. he pretty much had a seat at audi and he threw that away in hopes of getting signed at a top team.

now don't take this as me ragging on him but just the constant shoving down of his greatness by the media is getting a bit too much. he'll get a seat but I don't think it'll be a top seat

Yeah I agree with your statements anon you summed it up perfectly 👍🏻

[f0point5]

If you could change next year driver line up, how would u change it?

Hmm this is a tough question because I don’t have too too much knowledge of F2/other series to know who are the best options for replacements, but I’m going to fill them in where I can and and if I’m not sure I’ll leave it blank.

Red Bull - MV1 and DR3 - I actually don’t think Checo has been as much of a problem as people make out this year but I think next year when the field begins to converge and the top teams start coming for Red Bull, he’s going to be a constructor problem. He might even be a driver problem around those street circuits if it’s not guaranteed that Max will win everything else. I think Daniel would happily take the number 2 role from day 1 while Checo struggles to settle into it for the first few races.

Mercedes - GR63 and LH44 - I personally wouldn’t change it, because they’re two great drivers, and I’m here for the chaos. I think Merc would potentially shoot themselves in the foot by binning off one of two good drivers. Neither of them will win a title with the other in the same car but for constructors, I’d keep them both. Also I don’t like Merc as a vibe so these two tripping each other up next year is banter for me. I actually do think LH should retire but I can’t think of anyone on the grid who deserves (both in a positive and negative way) that Merc seat atm so I’m leaving him there.

Ferrari - CL16 and NH22 - Wild I know but hear me out. I think Hulk is SO much better than a Haas. He has dragged that disaster of a car to places it shouldn’t even see on a map in qualifying and he does all that can be done in the race before the tyres cook like Uncle Ben’s rice in a new microwave. I think he would be a great second driver for Charles. He could settle into the role easily, he could provide support not competition. I think he’s mature enough and would be grateful enough to do what needed to be done in a support role but also stern enough to speak up when there’s a problem, which maybe Charles doesn’t as much and Nico could be a good ally for him. I just think Charles could do with a big brother in that team and I think Nico could do that as well as scoring valuable points.

McLaren - LN4 and OP81 - This driver line up will cook by ‘25 imo but I think they’ll be good for another year.

Alpine - PG10 and EO31 - Just leave ‘em there, they’re not bothering anyone except each other.

Alpha Tauri - Liam Lawson and another rookie (Iwasa?)- I know AT are trying to move away from their RB junior roots and they want a strong development driver but it’s my game I’ll play it how I want. I like that they’re a place for young drivers to show their potential and that it’s the F1 finishing school. I think Liam Lawson deserves a chance to show he’s a contender for the post-Verstappen era, and I think Tsunoda is not their plan for Red Bull so he shouldn’t be taking up a seat in AT. I don’t know if they can get a really experienced reserve/sim driver to help with development, maybe give a chance to one of the other guys I’m mentally throwing out of seats, but I think AT should be for the up and comers.

Alfa Romeo - Theo Pourchaire and ZG24. I don’t know Theo Pourchaire too much, but I know he’s doing well in F2, and was in talks with AR for ‘24, so unless there’s another more promising rookie, give him a shot. I’d maybe like to see Arthur Leclerc in the seat just because I think he’s downright adorable but I don’t know anything about his driving. But yeah I think Bottas has had his time, he’s not providing points, Zhou seems to have a good handle on the car I don’t think Bottas is providing much in the way of mentoring. Sometimes you take the old horses out to pasture, I think it’s time. I’m leaving Zhou there another year or two because again I don’t have the knowledge of who else really needs a seat in junior categories, but if there was a stand out junior I’d chuck him. I think the line up would change again in ‘26 because I full believe there’s a seat for Sainz if he wants it, so I say give youngsters a chance while the team is in a transition period.

Aston Martin - FA14 and CS55 - I’m caveating this with it being contingent on Aston Martin recovering some form, because I wouldn’t want Sainz that far down the midfield as they are currently. That said, I think those two in the 3rd/4th fastest car would do BITS. They get on, Alonso is a man who can handle the pressure, and I think could handle Sainz and his family very well. I just see it being a competitive but harmonious pairing, and I think Sainz would calm down somewhat knowing he would for sure inherit free run of the team once Alonso retires (if Sainz doesn’t go to Audi). Also, Lance just has to go. I’m sure he does enjoy it but there’s any number of thing he could enjoy that don’t involve the negativity he deals with in this sport, that don’t involve the spotlight which he seems to hate, and frankly don’t involve being painfully mediocre. Buy a track, buy a car, race for fun. I think the Stroll situation has gone beyond a joke tbh.

Haas - SP11/YT22 and KM20 - I don’t even rate KMag but I don’t think Haas deserve a rookie and I don’t think they can afford one. I don’t think mick Schumacher was any real loss to the grid but it’s clear the Guenther didn’t have the energy, impetus, or indeed the money, to nurture a young driver. I’d give Perez first option in the seat and Yuki can have it if Perez would rather retire. I know it’s my choice but honestly I don’t think either of them would make inroads in a Haas so it doesn’t matter to me, I think they’d both produce an equally exciting performance once or twice in a season. I just think Haas needs to stick with solid, comfortable, and decidedly more experienced drivers.

Williams - AA23 and Felipe Drugovich - I think Alex is a good driver, and I almost gave him the Merc seat, but tbh I think he deserves to be a first driver, I think he deserves to have a team that believes in him built around him, and I don’t think he deserves to have his friendship with George ruined by being his teammate. So I’m leaving him at Williams, to see out that development project, and wherever they get to, he can have the credit. I’d like to see them in that Aston Martin/Alpine fight. I think Sargeant can see himself out; he’s a Mick, too expensive for a small team. I think Williams have the capability to develop a young driver, I think James says and does the right things, I think Alex has amazing mentor potential, I just think it’s wasted on Sargeant. Drugovich has a decent amount of experience, he presumably knows how not to bin it and cost a team money. Worst case scenario he’s a Sargeant, but that’s like a 1% chance. I think there’s a 99% chance he at least costs less.

These takes may be unhinged lol be glad my name isn’t Stefano Domenicalli.

[nomnomnibblenibble]

You're absolutely right, a large portion of Lewis fans use literally anything, in our out of context, to criticize him. They probably think they're being the better person for holding their fav "accountable" like Lewis isn't criticized for merely breathing by every other fandom. To avoid the "cult" allegation they've completely gone over to the other side and complain about every single thing he does. A lot of them are glory hunters tbf so their frustration has been building with Merc's continued failure, they take it out on Lewis as a result. I knew his fans were pathetic when they were crying in the qrts of his Glastonbury festival appearance where he was simply assigned a seat next to Sam Taylor Johnson and calling him names like he personally arranged the seating. When, mind you, he was with Elton John's husband and son. MV is literally involved with a racist, homophobic family, Charles liked several anti blm tweets yet you'll never see their fans act like Lewis fans do. Certain Lewis fans treat him like some common criminal when he's probably one of the nicest athletes around who always owns up to mistakes and improves himself. They always say F1 and other drivers don't deserve him but lbr, many of them don't either. Like wtf are you dragging him for scabbing, he's not a damn actor 😭 Just a pathetic bunch, they need to drop the pretense and support whichever ignorant, bland fool they prefer and let Lewis be

Right, it's like this insane overreaction sometimes. They sound like haters when they constantly hold him to this insane standard.

He's not immune to criticism. He does things I don't like and associates with people I would rather him not. No issue with acknowledging that much.

However, I don't expect Lewis to be absolutely perfect. There's no reason to get upset if he isn't living up to your unwritten expectations. There's no reason to go into deep speculation about who he "really" is. I have a feeling some fans want to be able to have some kind of moral high ground over others so it's like you said they wanna detach from that cult lh label. I also think there is a feeling of superiority some of them get from the idea that "my fave is unproblematic unlike yours...." and get upset if Lewis does something that "embarrasses them".

I know it sounds horrible but leave some stuff alone and keep it pushin - has team lh not been through enough already?

[princessofmerc]

With each passing race I become more and more bitter.

I love Lewis for what he has achieved in the sport, but my goodness his fans put me off. Why do they always have to hate on George for no reason? It’s disturbing and cult like, people can beat your driver.

When he first joined the team I was so excited to see how the move benefited his career, but it’s come to the point where I want him out of it. Time and time again his teammate, team principle and members of the team throw him under the bus time and time again. I hate seeing people who rated him in Williams turn against him.

Mercedes won’t win championships any time soon and I want George to have the opportunity to do so. I can’t remember the last time I watched a race live. You know RB are gonna win the rest. Maybe next year will be better.

Lewis is a great driver. But he needs to realise that he's not going to lose by losing out against George. George was better all weekend the result may not show this in points but anyone who really watches knows. He may even be a great person. I'm personally getting the ick from the people he surrounds himselves with but let's be honest. They're all privileged and rich. Even Lewis as the only black driver. As the most succesful driver.

His fans are an abusive bunch of shit. And I mean that. With Max I didn't say a lot because I personally didn't see a lot of abuse that wasn't a direct reply to racism. And both sides were wrong. With Nicky it was unwarranted. The FIA and Red Bull are so much more to blame and for Nicky to hire security to protect his girlfriend (because he was scared of something happening to Sandy more than himself). They're visibly sending out "kill yourselves" to people. To minors. And no their excuses mean nothing. Not if we're already back to part two of the vicious cycle of dealing with team Lh. Tomorrow they'll pretend nothing ever happened.

Honestly Lewis, as long as he continues glorifying his fans the way he does and giving people the reason to believe they are right and they have nothing to fear. I'm through with him. I'm not claiming there aren't assholes along the George Russell fans. Even Alex Albon fans can get it wrong sometimes. Being a Lewis fan doesn't make you an asshole. As much as being a George fan doesn't make you a racist or fatphobic and stuff. And I'm aware that just because there are black sheep in every section of driver fans and it's generalising to claim there'S an issue with Lewis fans that I amd oing what I'm condoning.

Maybe it's being friends with someone who claimed "yeah okay that's bad but I got one hate anon by a George fan so both sides are bad". But I'm bitter. In 2021 y'all wanted him what are you so afraid of?

George showed a lot more this weekend than any driver did the whole year. He can drive on the same level as the world champions on the grid. He is the driver to look out for. He makes these mistakes and never makes them again. He takes responsibility (other than others who blame their team, the wind, George Russell, Oscar Piastri, the sun, the moon and the stars). The pace he's been showing. He's going to be a problem to so many drivers in the future. And I guess that's the issue

As for the team. I feel like something shifted today. It's small. It's maybe just a different twitter admin. Who knows. (But for Shov to not even mention Lewis). Maybe I'm delulu. But at the end of the day I don't think George should go elsewhere. Not because he couldn't outdrive any driver in their current team, which I believe firmly he could. But because I'm not sure if the teams that could help him succeed would let him. Other than maybe Williams, who after the European stretch is over are probably going to go back to the back of the midfield because that's what happened 2020,2021 and 2022. No other team would let him grow as much as Mercedes. What use is a Red Bull seat if you aren't allowed to beat Max Verstappen?

So yeah. I feel like a lot of the leading engineering voices in the team are more neutral than, say Toto. Which makes sense. Lewis had a massive impact on the success of Mercedes. But let's not forget that without a team like Mercedes Lewis wouldn't have had the success he had as well. Mercedes is one of the best teams on the grid as much as we sometimes hate it. They can win championships in the future and I feel like the people who matter know they can do it with both Lewis and George. And that George is their future.

Mercedes can be a shit place but unless Williams turns it around for the 2024 season it is the best place for George to be.

[cmlbcommish]

CMLB: Arkaley Pythons @ Rift Storms, S1D25, 6

This one is dedicated to Kosmo, who chose this path /lh

The CMLB was off to a great start. The Skates were looking pretty dominant, though many teams were just in the competition for fun and did not care about winning, (looking at you, Zeromere Heroes) but all in all, everything was going fine.

Its Blaseball though, so everything had to go wrong.

Day 25, Nagomi is watching an 'away game' as she calls it in her mind. Arkaley Pythons versus the Rift Storms.

The weather has been bordering on a storm the whole time, dark clouds billow in the sky above the Stormdrain, the Storms' stadium. 

Parker has been jotting down all the plays of the game, something that he doesn't need to do but enjoys doing anyway. Nagomi figures it's to keep his hands busy, and she is probably right.

Nagomi is looking away when it happens, glancing down at her phone to check her texts. It's the 8th inning, the Storms have a rather commanding lead, 10-2.

She's looking down when she feels Parker urgently grip her arm. When she looks over, He's staring wide eyed at the field. 

"What?" Nagomi asks, she also trains her vision to the field to see what the hell he's looking at.

"Marylou Good just disappeared." He murmurs. She can hear the tone of panic in his voice, clear as day.

"She- Fuck." Nagomi is out of her seat in seconds, running down to the field. The level of urgency in his voice… She's only heard it once before. 

Marylou had been standing out on the mound, and even through her urgency Nagomi took a cursory glance around where she could have disappeared to, but nothing.

The umpire behind home plate had also seen Marylou disappear, just like Parker. They had immediately called a timeout and were urgently awaiting Nagomi's arrival on the field.

Nagomi is fast on her feet, and Parker's cane is to give him a little more stable mobility, but it doesn't make for speedy getaways, so she's already down talking to them before Parker arrives.

"I didn't see her go." Is the first thing Parker hears. "Parker is the one who saw."

The umpire is a volunteer, going by J. Good. They have a lot of blaseball experience and are allegedly related to Marylou. They don't talk much, and never actually revealed their first name, but they look strangely familiar.

Unlike Marylou's eyes, which have a flaming pupil, this Good only has one visible flaming eye, and boy do they look pissed.

Nagomi doesn't wait for them to respond. "I'm ending the game. I don't care if the Storms would have scored more, this is serious."

Good nods. 

"We'll talk more in my office." Nagomi says. She walks over to the batter's box.

"Game's over." She says to Maverick Aero, the current Storms batter.

He tilts his head, "But the game isn't over! There's still some innings left!"

"Someone just disappeared." Nagomi growls. "Game's over." And she walks away. 

__

Commissioners Office

Nagomi is sitting at her desk, her elbows resting on the surface in front of her, her hands steepled with the fingertips resting on her forehead.

She's been deep in thought for a while, waiting for Parker to wake up.

Good is off to her left, leaning against the wall and checking their phone, sneaking glances over at the both of them.

On the right is Parker, taking a nap on the couch. After the amount of hectic scrambling following Marylou's disappearance, Parker kept up fairly well with the hectic cleanup of the incident.

After a few hours, It became evident to both Nagomi and Good that Parker's body was giving out on him, so the both of them gently urged him to take a short nap.

Parker is not often able to resist the allure of sleep, as much as he tries, though he insisted that he only needed a short nap.

"...You're an ILB player, right?" Nagomi murmurs in Good's direction.

They nod. 

"If you were trying to be sneaky, you should have picked an alias. There is literally only one player with your last name in the ILB." 

"I wasn't trying to be sneaky." They snort. "I was trying to be a volunteer umpire for a new splorts league." 

"That's it?" 

"That's it, that's all… Well, I guess I was also here to watch Marylou play." They mutter as an afterthought. It makes Nagomi feel that much worse.

"I'm… Really sorry about Marylou." 

Good sighs, "I know you are. I know you didn't expect this to happen, trust me."

Nagomi runs both her hands through her hair. "We have no leads, no indication how she disappeared or where she might have gone or how to get her back. I said I would protect them and I failed." 

Good sighs. "I'm not going to keep up with your self loathing on this one, boss. The fact of the matter is a player disappeared and barely anyone noticed until we announced it, that's suspicious."

Nagomi turns to look at them as they speak again. "If someone was looking for a reaction, they would do it like incineration. Everyone focuses on an incineration, but whoever did this? They chose sneaky, and that sits strangely with me."

Nagomi nods, "It's fucking wierd is what it is. There has to be a reason, especially without any sort of replacement swapping in."

"Exactly." They nod, "And I hate to say it, but with what little information we have right now I'm thinking we're going to have to wait until it happens again before we can start investigating any patterns." 

Good looks over at the loud sound of Nagomi thunking her head on her desk.

She groans, "And I hate to say that you're right. We have nothing to go off of, there's nothing we can do."

"Hopefully they're just missing and we can get them back." Good mutters, swiping away a notification on their phone. "Better hope we don't have to necromancy someone."

Nagomi stares hard, Good doesn't meet her gaze. She doesn't know if they're joking or not.

Parker decides that now is the time to wake up from his nap. "What's happening?" He says immediately, rubbing his eyes.

"We've determined that there's currently nothing we can do other than wait for it to happen again." Nagomi scoffs. She doesn't bother giving context, she knows how Parker's brain works, and he doesn't ask.

"You got any scientist types in your league?" Good ponders, "You could see if they could get some readings on something."

"There's a few on the Stargazers." Parker pipes in. "A majority of them are astrophysicists but a few of them might know some folks in other disciplines."

"Sounds good." Nagomi writes down the idea in her notebook. "Better than waiting around."

"I'll… Draft a 'memorial' for Marylou." Good says, quietly. "So that the people know what's happened and why they should care."

Nagomi and Parker nod, avoiding their gaze.

Good sighs. "I don't want you both to feel responsible for this, honestly. Your intentions with this league are what I wish the ILB was like. Marylou wouldn't want you to blame yourselves."

"It's my league. I can be as responsible as I want." Nagomi says stubbornly. She gets up from her chair. "I do think we're done playing the blame game in circles though, let's get outta here."

The Stormdrain is now empty of spectators, only a few staff members remain, cleaning out the seating for the next game. Thunder rumbles in the sky, and a few lightning bolts descend and hit the lightning rods, despite there being no rain to speak of.

There are two cars waiting outside for them, one for Good and one for Nagomi and Parker.

Parker enters the vehicle before Nagomi, but as she's leaving she looks over to where Good is getting in the car.

"Jenkins." She starts, and they look back at her. "Don't be a stranger." 

Good smiles, giving her a two finger salute. "This isn't the last you'll be seeing of me, boss. I promise." 

Their car drives away, and Nagomi joins Parker in the car.

"Jenkins Good, huh…" Parker muses.

"Did you know?" Nagomi questions. Parker hums. "I knew there was something familiar about them, but it's hard to recognize them without a crop top on."

"I guess it's true what they say about their abs being their most defining feature, huh." Nagomi snorts out a laugh. 

__

"And now, to say a few words about the missing, I introduce Jenkins Good, pitcher for the Canada Moist Talkers." says the announcer, there is polite and somber applause.

Jenkins Good steps on the stage, they are wearing their signature Talkers jersey, looking every bit the ILB player that they are. They approach the microphone.

"Marylou Good is not my blood cousin." They start. "As most people know, I am an Alternate, and where I am from, I only had my parents in my family. After the switch, Marylou made an active effort to get to know me, when the rest of the Good family here chose the opposite. I will never forget her kindness, her optimism, or her enthusiasm. I miss her greatly and I hope that someday she returns to us, from wherever she has been sent."

More polite applause. The lights in the auditorium dim, and a slideshow of various pictures of Marylou play. 

The ending slide shows a picture of Marylou's face, along with the words 'You will not be forgotten.' 

[fcb-mv33]

As much as I am gutted for Max, I am also happy that Checo won. It was basically a big 'fuck you' to everyone that was fancasting other drivers *Coughs Daniel Coughs*. P7 is way better considering the last 30 minutes of the race I thought Max wouldn't even score a point. And team lh seems to forget where their drivers started and finished. P3 to P9 and P11 to finishing last. While one of our boy won and the other finished P7 while overtaking half the grid twice. Max finishing outside the podium doesn't change the fact the he is leading the championship and winning. So stay mad I guess 😘

Checo really proved all the people who said he doesn’t deserve the Red Bull seat so wrong today. There is nobody on the grid I’d take in that second seat…certain fans need to realize their driver would not do as well as Checo is doing🙃

And pls exactly😭like those fans taking the piss outta Max sitting down after one of the most demanding tracks, after having to make up so much ground to get to p7 while their driver cried about not being able to overtake, said Carlos pushed him wide (man fans race wheel to wheel without whining) and the going off and ending up in p9. Their other driver crashed into mick and tried to blame mick saying he left space😭(leaving from his teammate in Silverstone2021 about space👀).

His fans are annoying as fuck cause Max has been phenomenal all year meanwhile their driver hasn’t🤷🏼‍♀️

[yaldev]

The Team

The Septumvirate’s funding would cover three full-time employees for Decadin.

Renne. Mechanical engineer. The first friend Decadin made at Exodus. Strong in body and will. Could’ve done this whole project himself if his immortal soul could imagine anything but rotating shapes and hot girls.

Nemesk. Aethereal engineer. Decadin’s study partner in Fluid Dynamics 2 and Magic Manufacturing Processes. Advanced proficiency in numbers. Working knowledge of the Ascended language.

Miash. Musician. The only one Decadin had never met. Miash got an interview because Decadin wanted to know why a music student was applying for this role. He showed Miash one of the blueprints and he immediately picked at the visual design elements that made it clumsy to read. Then he started theorizing about the impact this creation would have on urban air quality. Five minutes later, he was gushing to an attentive Decadin about pre-National polyphonic folk singing, and he was hired.

Lhusel. Mechanical engineer. Flying machine specialist. She said this was volunteering, and Decadin left it that that.

Decadin brought the vision, the organization, the logistics and the diplomatic warfare capabilities against their source of funding. Together, they were going to build a miracle.

- - -

A crystal bug was standing half-upright on a work table, a whirlpool of energy around its mouth, vibrant colors swirling in its transparent body. Some larger animals were watching it eat, but for now they posed no threat.

“You have a point.” Decadin nodded. “Even our best measurement tools aren’t too accurate.”

“And humans are insensitive to ambient mana levels,” said Miash, “but for dirtclouds, it’s their whole survival strategy.”

A few other crystal bugs wriggled about in a paperboard box. Decadin took a pair of metal tongs on the table, picked up one of the glassworms and leaned back in his seat.

“If I had to pick a favorite animal, it’d be these.” He smirked and watched it try to squirm out of the tongs. “I started in biology, thought I could make a mark there. We still know so little about nature, and crystal bugs are packed with mystery.”

Miash grinned. “I almost went into bio.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But I had to pursue what I wanted deep down.”

Decadin turned his wrist, flipped the bug over. “Music?”

“Art, all of it, but music’s what came naturally.”

“That’s awesome. If you’re ever performing I’d love to come see. Certain the others would too.”

Miash blushed, unused to anyone caring for long. This was a formality, he had to change the subject. “So why’d you transfer out of bio?”

“Eh.” Decadin dropped the bug back in the box.

- - -

Decadin knocked on the door with his free hand.

From the other side: “Yes?”

He stepped in. The machine shop was dark, just couple of Levilights™ where Nemesk was hunched over a work table.

“Hey. I brought another tool that might help.” Decadin set a bowl of stew by Nemesk’s elbow.

“Oh.” Nemesk bent back up, looked over his shoulder. “Did not ask you to do this.”

“No, but Lhusel and I made extra, and it only made sense to keep some hot for you.” Decadin smiled, then looked at the blueprints. “How’s it coming?”

“Bad.” Nemesk dropped his pen. “Too much to fit on a reasonable size. Magic can’t fix it all.”

Decadin bent over to take a look himself. The sketches were hectic, eraser marks obvious. “What if it wasn’t a reasonable size?”

“We have the money?”

“Probably not.”

Nemesk huffed, rested his forehead against his hand. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Decadin frowned. He thought of losing Nemesk from the project, or as a friend, and adrenaline shot in his body. “Why?”

Nemesk’s other hand traced along the table as he spoke, as though building a model of his greivances. “No certainties. Assume things for the calculations, will need lots of testing, but no time. Still don’t know where getting parts. And barely below budget, right? If this doesn’t work, there’s nothing to show, and might be my fault. Or everything will get pulled if they found out Lhusel was working on it.”

Decadin patted his shoulder. “Stand up, you need a hug.”

“Uh?” Nemesk stood, and when Decadin pulled him in, he needed a second to process before he put his hands on the stewbringer’s back.

“You feel this?” Decadin murmured, “we’re here.”

“I know.”

“But we get so tied up in the math we forget we’re just bodies and souls.” Sensing the tension in Nemesk, Decadin pulled back to look him in the face.

“Yeah,” said Nemesk, hardly able to meet his gaze, “but much else I can’t be sure about.”

Decadin breathed in. “I’ve been there. You know what helped me?”

“What?”

“This, all of this, is a machine.” Decadin let him go. “Some parts move by themselves, some are invisible, but it’s all pieces of a system. It all makes sense when we get some hindsight, right?”

“Not help.” Nemesk frowned. “No good machine we can’t work out from the start.”

“Is there more on your mind than you’re telling me?”

Nemesk still wouldn’t meet his eyes. Decadin grimmaced.

“You think you need some sleep? You can have your dinner and go if you want.”

Nemesk sat down. “I’ll have it as break, but if I don’t do this now, just moved to later.”

“Your call.” Decadin smiled. “Can I give one more tip?”

“Mhm,” Nemesk hummed through a mouthful of stew.

Decadin opened a drawer built into the right side of the table, took out a jar of orange liquid. “If you can’t get rid of uncertainty, make it work for you.”

“What you mean?”

He set the jar on the table. “It’s mana. I think I only got through my second year because I kept it on my desk and it randomly gave me answers.”

“But the jar stops any effects from leaking, right? Too dangerous if no.”

“Yeah, for all we know it doesn’t actually do anything. But call it superstition.”

Nemesk smirked. “So now going to use mana to help us get rid of mana?”

“Hey, why not?”

“Well if we need it for good ideas, what we do after it’s gone?”

Decadin laughed.

- - -

Decadin stayed home one afternoon. He was going to spend all day crunching numbers, and he figured it was good for teambuilding when the others could vent to each other in his absence.

Aether dynamics was hard. It was fluid dynamics but also multi-dimensional parabolic geometry and also applied mathematical theology. It demanded so many parts of his brain that the proofs always took Decadin hours, and treading new ground felt impossible. How was he supposed to work out the most sustainable mechanism to repel mana back into the Aether? His only hope was a second jar of mana he bought for himself, purple this time. When he needed a break he’d pace around his room, bauble in hand, shaking it, swirling it and watching it settle with post-deterministic patterns.

The chaos wasn’t helping this time. Nemesk was right: if these jars actually changed anything outside the glass, the orange one would’ve burned down the whole academy by now. If they were ever useful it was for prompting new questions, but this time there were none to find. Decadin slumped back into his chair, double-checked an equation. It wasn’t even close to true if the variables were what he thought they were. He stared at the liquid magic in the jar, tapped it with his fingers, and then gave it a spin. He looked back at the paper. Back at the jar. Half the mana was gone.

Decadin gasped. Concepts neglected since first year started crashing into each other. He jotted a couple notes about centrifugal force, lept from his seat, grabbed the jar and sprinted off to tell Nemesk.

- - -

“You’re asking for more?”

“I had no plans to come up here and request a reduction,” said Decadin. Back on the platform. Back in the spotlight. Back in front of the Septumvirate. One of the members was replaced since last time, and the new voice was especially skeptical.

“Don’t bother giving us some fluffed-up story of all the progress you’re making. Your supervisor’s confirmed that you’ve yet to build a functioning prototype.”

“My case is that even if we fail, we’ll have made incredible discoveries in the process. Our work also supports future projects with similar aims.”

Another voice chimed in: “‘Incredible discoveries’ isn’t very specific.”

Decadin raised his chin. “We found a direct association between mana repulsion and centrifugal force in holding materials.”

Silence for a moment, until the first voice returned. “When was this?”

“Last night. We were all so excited I forgot to sleep.”

A third voice laughed, then a fourth spoke: “I respect your dedication, but it hasn’t brought results.”

“The materials we need are… scarce. As soon as we get the funds for delivery, you’ll get your results. There’s no waste here, I’m covering the holy ink we’ll need out of pocket.”

“We’ll consider it.”

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

Yaldev is a sci-fantasy worldbuilding project by Ulysses Maurer, with art by Beeple. By looking at narratives, stylized loredumps, bad poetry and little details, we'll witness the story of a planet filled with magical power, the nation which tried to conquer it, this empire’s dramatic collapse and the new world which emerged in its wake. Along the way we'll meet the characters who live here, and we'll explore questions about nationalism, rationalism, the natural world and the quest to master it. For all stories in chronological order, check out the pinned posts at r/Yaldev!

[georgegraphys]

personal opinion

People goes too hard on George just because he is in Mercedes 2nd seat. Most of them never take to an account that George spent 2 years (i don't count 2021 Williams as bad for him) in a dogshit tractor of a car and is basically the extension of his F2 career but he is racing amongst other F1 cars. Then after 2021, he jumps into the second seat of a big team who is in a slump with ANOTHER tractor he needs to drive but he managed to get like 7 podiums, 1 sprint win, 1 race win, and 1 pole position of his career. He outscored his 7x World Champion teammate (ik LH luck is also shit in 2022 but still.. it's an achievement). Then in 2023, even though his luck is shit, he still matches the 7x world champion teammate in quali h2h. Imo if you put random driver from George's gen, (exc for maybe CL or MV) idt they can even get close to matching LH while at the same time handling the tractor of W13 & W14. Being able to handle such shitty car itself and outperform it while trying to match ur 7x world champ teammate is a skill and a feat itself.

People always say shit like George is gonna end up burn out after being LH's teammate just like VB or Kovalainen or prolly FA but it's all bullshit and semi copium narratives that people force themselves to believe when George is nowhere near the word burn out. One thing about George? His confidence and his mentality. Pulling himself up after each week of getting screwed by his own team and car while being pitted and pressured by the public to outperform his 7x world champion teammate with 10+ years of experience is not an easy feat to do yet George Russell manage to do it week in and week out.

I get pissed off at people thinking he's over just because he doesn't have 10293737 wins and poles and WDC at the age of 25. Like?? There are drivers in a better car, older than him that can win or at least compete for the WDC but didn't or drivers that fucked up the same or even more than george but somehow never gets painted as bad as George.

Again. For someone who drove F2 level car amongst in F1 for 2 years. For someone who almost matches his 7x world champion teammate with 10+ years of experience (despite George himself having only 1 year of real racing aka 2021 beforehand) is a big feat.

Not everyone can do this shit. You need big amount of skill and mental capacity to do this. And George Russell is one of the people who can do it.

[felixthexlll]

•Want to see it again?•

[LH|44🇬🇧][MV|1🇳🇱]

Request: maybe some 4433 fic? I thought for a long time about that Australian press conference where Lewis was joking about max wearing a nipple piercing but no one has written anything like that.

[+18, Rivals with benefits, everyone is fruity, please men with nipple piercings are hot, kind of short I had a hard time figuring out what to write :( ]

  The Melbourne GP was a special one, not only was it the first time racing there since covid-19 but, it was also Daniels's home race. No one could lie and say they didn't like Danny, he was too much of a ray of sunshine and pure giggles to be able to. Everyone on track could practically feel his excitement and anticipation, his need to be back home was palatable.

He needed it, everyone was hoping that all the love and support would help with his immense displeasure with the start of the season. Many if not all the drivers decided to amp up the rowdiness along the tack to hype Daniel up

The day had just started and Max could already feel the energy on the track. He was walking through the alley to get to the media pen, Vicky was walking beside him looking at an email on her phone while quickly briefing him on some questions that might be asked.

 He felt sticky in the overalls and fireproof wear, even if it was not too hot, the sun beating down on him was making him sweaty. Up ahead he could see other drivers and their teams make their way into the pen. When he gets inside the blast of air-con on him was enough to make his hair stand on end.

“Here, they have you sat next to Hamilton” Vicky shoves a towel into his hand prompting him to wipe his face. The sweat made his face itchy after being wiped off, he tossed the towel down beside his Red Bull and took his cap off. It felt like he had just taken a shower because of the moister that has developed under his cap. He sat there gathering himself watching everyone pour in.

“Good morning mate” Hamilton sat down in the seat beside him, and one of Lewis's hands gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. Both of the boys had a smirk on their faces, Max licked his lips. “Morning, how did you sleep?” A dark chuckle comes from Lewis “I slept like a baby, what about you pretty boy” Max can't help but bite his lip to retain his huge smile. “Oh I slept like an angel” It was a reasonable question, both of them stayed up way to late drawling orgasms' out of each other, bathing in the moans and groans; making an absolute mess. 

The intense stare Hamilton gave the younger boy was exciting, he could already tell the plans for tonight. It was cut off by the indication of the conference starting as reporters and team members got into position.

It felt like Max was on autopilot, the years of media and PR training made him a powerhouse of things like this; while other drivers paid attention the what was said, Max was in another world. A certain question caught his attention though, it was about the newly enforced jewelry rule, one that he and everyone thought was stupid because of the way it's being upheld.

  Hamilton was quick to respond “Well I have certain piercings that I just really can't take out, that few people know about....” The eye contact was heavy, a Cheshire grin spreads across his face. “-No, I'm just joking.” Max couldn't help but shift in his seat, his upper body leaning over to the man to his right. “ I would be too heavy if I wore jewelry, so it's not possible” The younger comment was one laced heavy with sarcasm. laughter rippled among the crowd in front. Lewis was quick to bite back, “ I know you have a nipple piercing man, come on.” Of course, he knew, the man had loved them since the second he got them, spending what felt like hours torturing the poor boy rolling them between his teeth. 

The Dutchman couldn't help but be a brat, he loved when they butted heads or the stupid fight they get in. It just fueled what happened behind the scenes. “ Do you want to see it again? “ The banter seemed light to everyone else but the tension was thick.

Max couldn't help but replay the moment in his head later when he was preparing in his driver's room. The helmet on the table across from him, a never-ending staring contest. He knew he was in trouble, the look Lewis gave him on the way out of the pen was enough to make his skin crawl, fuck. His door was whipped open an then closed and locked before he had time to react. Max found a heavily ringed hand pinning him to the small couch. Lewis was straddling max dominating him.

The young boy was sure he was bright red, the hungry look in the man above him making him strain against his pants. Lewis can't help but laugh at the pitiful look on his face, he leans down and presses a soft kiss against his cheek. “Why don't you show me it again baby boy.” 

He was baffled, and hard. “Fuck, how did you get in here?” His heavy breath in his ear had Max's back arching. the feeling of his plumb lips under the shell of his ear makes him pull on the back of his shirt. “I will always find a way to you.” 

The words were a lot more passionate and sentimental than the boys were prepared for, it was obvious this was no longer just sleeping together, that time had passed months ago. It was something they refused to acknowledge between them, last year had taken such a toll on their relationship, that they spent a whole month avoiding each either. 

It wasn't until a night when Max was drunk and showed up at Lewis's door, After that it was hard to discern their relationship. They cared deeply for each other, the nights spent talking after sex, that turned into morning spent together, into spending days. 

Whatever it was it was certainly something that neither was ready to admit, neither to themselves nor to others. The feeling of Lewis grinding into him drew him out of his thoughts. Maybe it didn't matter what they were, because all he cared about was just having the man. 

The kiss was heated when there lips finally met, the brit couldn't help but nip the poor boy under him, a whiny groan pulled from his throat. “Please daddy” Max should have gotten whiplash with how fast his overalls, boxers, and long johns. The feeling of the air against his tip made him shiver. Lewis shuffled onto his knees in front of him. 

He gently blew air on the tip, a grunt leaves Max’s swollen lips, his cock twitching. Hamilton's mouth felt like heaven, he takes him fully in his mouth hollowing his cheeks quickly. The Dutchman bites his knuckles to suppress his moans, he cant help but start to thrusts' into leis mouth when he swallow's around him. 

The sound of his mouth is nasty, the sight of the drool and pre cum is maddening.  The brit pushes his hips into the couch ceasing his movement, it makes the boy whine. he picks up his pace taking him deep into the back of his throat. Max’s breathing picks up and the pulsing in his cock gets stronger. 

When he releases into Hamilton's mouth he lets outa loud grunt. The older man stands up and pats the inside of his thigh. he licks his lips to show off him swallowing all of it. Max’s face is flushed and the hair is stuck to his forehead, he’s panting like a bitch in heat. The brit pinches his cheek, “Have a good Practice” 

He leave just as fast as he came leaving nothing but a trembling Verstappen in his way.

A/N: Ahhhhh Im so bad at endings whyyy, sorry I have been AFK Ive been so busy. I should have another fic out tonight, please send more requests! 

Ciao- F🇫🇷💙

[angy-mouse]

How would demon dream team react to an s/o that never takes care of themselves? Like they forget to eat most of the time, they barely get any sleep and are constantly working (only if you're comfortable ofc !!)

did you mean: the premise of this series /lh

I wrote this with an oc/self-insert before I had this blog and literally the idea was that the oc needed basically every sin: she hated herself and had no pride, she would skip eating needing gluttony, she wouldn't let herself relax needing sloth, she wouldn't stand up for herself needing wrath, etc.

PS ik i used she above but thats talking about the original character i think i made this gn

George was stuck staring at what he was sure would soon become a warzone. You had been forcefully sat at the table by Dream and now he and Sapnap were staring you down. All three of you had your arms crossed and George was sure neither side of the argument would budge. Would this be it? Was this unorthodox relationship doomed to end so soon after he’d joined?

Dream pushed the plate towards you. “Eat,” he told you firmly.

“No,” you said back just as stubbornly, pushing the plate away.

Sapnap growled, something George had never seen him direct at you. “Eat. It.”

“I’m. Not. Hungry.”

George was scared. He’d yet to witness a fight between you and his friends but he’d seen them fight- hell, he and Sapnap fought like brothers and it wasn’t pretty. He didn’t know how far any of you were willing to take this- he didn’t even know why you weren’t eating. He knew he was pulled into this in the first place because you were overworking yourself and Dream was panicked you would end up hurting yourself without the influence of George’s sin.

George had a sudden, what he considered a miracle of an idea, and stepped into the danger zone. “You two go get some air, leave 'em alone for a bit,” he told the other demons, responding to their betrayed glares with a pointed look. Dream seemed to get the message and somewhat bitterly went to hide out in the bedroom, but Sapnap stormed to the entryway with clenched fists sizzling in heat. The two of you heard him kick the door open then shut, then heard his rage-filled yell as he stormed into the woods to take out his anger.

“I’m sorry, darling, you know they mean well, right?” You huffed but nodded, keeping your arms crossed and looking pointedly away as he settled into the seat next to you. “Here, darling, that can’t be comfortable,” he cooed, unwrapping some of the silky cloth he was draped in and wrapping it around your front like a blanket, pulling you into his side under the guise of making sure the cloth would stay. “There we go,” he hummed. “Now, since you don’t want this you don’t mind if I have some, do you?” When you shook your head he took a spoonful of the mixed vegetables and popped them in his mouth with a hum. As a demon he didn’t really need to eat this, but he technically could- he’d have to go to the bathroom later, which was weird for him, but nothing terrible.

“They’re a bit overbearing, aren’t they,” he hummed, earning a scoff from you.

“I’ll say…”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, taking another spoonful. “It’s only ‘cause we love you, though. We all want to take care of you, they just don’t know how to act when you refuse it.”

“I think they just don’t know how to act in general,” you muttered, allowing yourself a chuckle when it pulled a laugh from the sloth demon.

“That’s absolutely true- did you know Dream used to think a ‘clap-back’ was when you got sick of arguing with someone so you just slap them?”

You burst into giggles at that, leaning against George’s shoulder to stabilize yourself since your arms were under the silky fabric. “Oh my gosh I can totally see that! I’ll never get back the hour I spent trying to explain to him why I kept saying ‘mood’ when those fatass birds fell off the birdfeeder.”

George cackled at that through another mouthful of veggies. “Don’t get me started on Sapnap- mm, have a bite, luv, I feel bad not sharing. I work in sloth, not gluttony.”

He saw you hesitate, staring down the spoon, but he didn’t waiver. “...I don’t like lima beans,” you admitted quietly.

“That’s fine,” he didn’t hesitate to say, getting another spoonful without the offending legumes. “There you go, darling,” he hummed pleased as you opened your mouth and let him feed you. “Like I was saying, Sapnap’s the opposite, he latches on to any new languages changes he can get, he’s always been fascinated by human culture, but he finds the most obscure phrases ever and uses them- here, luv, this spoonful doesn’t have lima beans- he uses them obsessively and I’m pretty sure he uses them wrong.”

You eagerly nodded as you chewed. “He does, but it’s kinda cute so I usually don’t correct him.”

“Yeah, you can get away with a lot when you’re cute,” George said smugly and you shoved him for knowing and abusing his pretty privilege.

“You’re such an ass,” you giggled, opening your mouth for the spoonful he picked up. “...what are those noodles?”

“Let me see,” George chirped, grabbing the fork and taking a bite. “Hmm… I have no idea. Here, see if you know.” He fed you a forkful.

To say George was proud of himself was an understatement. He was a genius at work and before you knew it he’d fed you about half of the plate that you refused to touch. He smiled softly as he watched you look at the empty plate disappointedly. “Something wrong, precious?”

“...those noodles were really good… do you think there’s any more?”

“Well let’s see. Dream,” he called out, not unconvinced that if he left you and took away your silky blanket that the spell would be broken. He watched Dream tentatively poke his head into the room, lighting up when he saw the empty plate. “Can we have more noodles?”

Dream beamed, eagerly nodding. “Coming right up!”

[f0point5]

🥖🥖🥖 anon Back with a hot take (as per):

Lewis to Ferrari is not a surprise.

F1 PR loves to push the “I love my team, my team above all, I would die for my team” narrative, and that may be true for some drivers (ie Charles, lando) but drivers like Lewis want to win.

Lewis seems very soft spoken, genuine, philanthropic and that may be how he actually is, but at the end of the day he isn’t in F1 to be a media persona, he wants to win.

McLaren served him for a time and when they weren’t anymore, he moved to Mercedes, Mercedes served him very well, but they aren’t serving him anymore, so he’s making a change

You want to win. You go to the place that serves that goal. Mercedes isn’t working anymore. So he goes to Ferrari. Will it be better? Who knows? Time will tell. But something isn’t working so you make a change.

LH doesn’t have the time or the need to sit around and wait for Mercedes to figure everything out. He’s staying loyal to his goals and what he wants. If there is one thing I can respect about him it’s that.

This does, however, bring a bit more validity to the whole rumor shitstorm of LH’s dad reaching out to Christian Horner about a Red Bull seat.

Personally, I don’t think he’s going there to win. I think he’s going there to do what all these drivers dream about at little kids - drive for Ferrari.

I don’t think he’s got enough years left in the sport to turn that circus into a winning team, if he was even allowed to.

I’ve never bought in to have “I love the team” thing. I always thought he was frustrated as hell with them but just didn’t have the option of leaving. I also thought he was pushing to become a shareholder like Toto and setting up an advisory role for when he retires, that’s all I thought the attachment was about. I was sure his new contract some of that in there, which is why I’m surprised by the move.

But at the end of the day, he has nothing to lose at Ferrari.

I always thought Christian was telling the truth, but that it was Anthony that had reached out, without the okay from Lewis’s team, and on balance I still believe that. Maybe Anthony knew Lewis was looking to shop around and thought he would get the ball rolling. I do believe it was never an option for Lewis to go to RB from either end

[dreamsclock]

this is a gently (not gently /lh) reminder that your manhunt!dream is still in prison and being tortured >:( *insert LET HIM OUT meme*

let him out, you say >:)

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE // PART FOUR (this part)

warnings: broken bones, trauma, death, self destructive behaviour, implied torture/abuse, self sacrifice, ambiguous / not happy ending, emotional distress, dark / critical portrayal of c!quackity, dark theme / contents

Dream is a lot of things, but over the course of the past two months, met with unconditional support and care from people who had previously looked at him with hatred and loathing, he’s realised what he’s not: a monster. He’s not good, by any means - he’s mean and he’s angry and he’s hurt people and that won’t erase itself, no matter what he does, nothing will ever erase the trauma he’s caused Tommy and Tubbo, nothing will ever be enough to make up for that. He’s always known that.

But he’s not a monster either, he doesn’t think, because monsters don’t care for anyone or anything, and as much as he tries to deny it, he cares for the other Dream. He cares for the others too, in a much more wary way - he cares about the rest of the Dream Team, both versions, and he cares about the people he’d hurt and the people who had hurt him, and the realisation at first almost destroys him before he comes to terms with it. It sends him careening out of a nightmare into a full blown panic attack it takes him hours to fully recover from - but he’s getting there. He cares and he’s attached and as regrettable as it is, he’s attached to the other Dream, who had sacrificed himself so carelessly for him.

He still doesn’t quite understand why his other self would do that - he wouldn’t have - but he’s grateful. And what’s more, he owes him. 

So with Quackity’s ultimatum, Dream knows he has no choice. He has to save Dream.

He doesn’t fall asleep, five nights after his talk with Quackity. Closing his eyes, feigning deep, even breaths and sprawling limbs, Dream waits for George and Sapnap to flop down beside him, waits for Bad to fall asleep reading, and slowly, painstakingly, extracts himself from their casual embraces, stretches out in the low moonlight. It’s hard to breathe, knowing who he’s about to see, knowing what he’s about to do. It’s hard to breathe, and it’s even harder to leave - Dream scolds himself for looking back, taking in the sight of his friends’ easy slumber and wishing more than anything he could join them. But he can’t.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he turns away, voice catching as it leaves his lips, “for everything.”

He takes his mask with him, pulls it down from next to his cloak - he’ll need it - but doesn’t bother with anything else. All he needs is a book, which he carries on him, and a quill, which he knows Quackity will have. A book, a quill, and time. Terror threatens to bring tears scattering across his eyes, threatens to crack his determinedly casual disposition, but Dream chokes them down, electing to wield a steely expression and cold eyes to meet with his enemy. It’s all he can afford to show.

“You’ve come to your senses, then,” Quackity drawls when he sees Dream approaching Las Nevadas, taking in Dream’s pale face and his downcast gaze, “good, good, I honestly wasn’t sure if you would.”

Dream’s teeth catch on his bottom lip, gnawing it red and raw. “Let him out,” he demands lowly, barely clinging to his composure, “and I’ll give you the revive book knowledge.”

Quackity smiles broadly, and begins to lead him into the Needle. Dream takes a brief moment to admire the country - it’s gorgeous, he’ll admit, Quackity has poured his heart and soul into building it. If he had energy or love left for Quackity, he’d tell him so.

Instead, he coughs, strangely loud in the hush of moonlight, and lets Quackity lead him to a table and two chairs, where a quill waits, along with a bloody axe. 

“So you know the deal,” Quackity tells him, gesturing for him to take a seat and sitting down himself, “the revive book for your little friend to get out of prison. I think it’s only fair if you give your side of the bargain first. As soon as you’ve proved the book works, I’ll release Dream.”

Dream eyes him warily, body lined with hard, tense edges. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?” He demands. “You have before.”

Quackity scoffs. “I don’t need to now,” he tells him, “you’re just going to have to trust me. I’m not letting Dream out otherwise.”

“...Fine.” Clenching his teeth, trying to control his breathing the way Bad had taught him (”in for four, hold for four, and out for four,” the demon tells him softly one morning, as Dream struggles for breath, hands squeezing Dream’s gently, “come on, that’s it, you can do it.”), Dream picks up the quill, leg bouncing up and down in nervousness, and begins to write, extracting the knowledge from where it’s been imprinted in his mind and turning it into words on the page. 

Quackity leans over the book while he writes, reading the words impatiently and asking demanding brassy questions as they come to his mind. Dream answers them all patiently, and quietly keeps from him the fact that everything he’s writing is complete bullshit. Because he’s a lot of things, and gullible isn’t one of them. He’s not going to risk revealing the actual revive book knowledge to Quackity, who, currently, might be the biggest threat on the server since himself during the Disk Wars. Exhaling, Dream sits back, fidgeting with his fingers and refusing to meet Quackity’s eyes, trying to prepare himself for what is going to come next.

“That’s it,” he tells him quietly, “now let the other Dream out. Now.”

Quackity arches an eyebrow at him. “What, you think I’m stupid?” He asks, scoffing. “Prove to me it works, and then I’ll let him out.”

Dream stares at him. “Prove it?”

“You heard me. Might wanna hurry-” Quackity checks his watch, smiles sardonically. “It’s getting pretty close to my visiting hour.”

It’s now or never. Dream picks up the book, walks over to the edge of the Needle, staring down. “First,” he says, “you need to destroy the book.”

“Okay,” Quackity says, following him to the edge, eyes bright as he absorbs the knowledge, “do it, then. You think this is high enough?”

“I don’t know,” Dream replies honestly, and, dropping the book to the floor, grabs hold of one of Quackity’s wings, twists as hard as he can, and begins pushing Quackity over the edge, “you tell me when you get down there-”

Quackity’s eyes are blown wide in terror and fury. “Dream-”

Dream heaves him over the side. He doesn’t let go of his wing. With a sickening snap, Quackity’s wing dislocates, and Dream drops him, leaving Quackity shrieking out in fear as he falls, only to go silent as his body hits the floor, one wing fluttering uselessly.

[Quackity hit the ground too hard while trying to escape Dream.]

Chest heaving in exertion (he’s not crying, he chants internally, scrubbing at his face roughly, he’s not he’s not he’s not he’s not he’s), Dream dons his mask, making sure it covers everything but his wide grin, and promptly heads down to the bottom of the Needle - after littering it with TNT, after striking flint against steel and jumping down the water elevator to avoid the blast.

The rest of Las Nevadas goes in a similar way - the Eiffel Tower, the theatre, the fucking wedding venue, the restaurant, the casino - until Dream is stumbling through rubble and debris back to the Needle, shaking and trying not to think too deeply about what he’s done, because he knows the moment he does then everything will hit him, and then he’ll be fucked. He needs to stay on this high, needs to stay focused and euphoric until he’s imprisoned, and then he can cry and scream and shout if he really wants to. For now, he has a reputation to uphold.

Because there’s only one way to prove that the wrong Dream has been imprisoned, and it’s by being a monster.

Dream smiles, and the smile is painted red. Despite his trembling limbs, he settles down in his chair again, now on the floor, only just in one piece, picks up his bloodstained book, and waits for the Warden to escort him back to his real home.