Between The Dark Circles And Him Talking To Himself I Think His Demons Are Winning.

I'm thinking about starting to post fanfic ideas that occur to me, just uploading the concepts with some details or plot lines.

“my child is fine” your child wants to marry multiple fictional characters

Happy day of the Uruguayan Battle of Stones if you celebrate it in your country!

WARNING: nothing too aggressive, just misunderstandings

The scorching heat of the Qatari desert could be felt even in the shadow of the luxurious paddock structures. Y/n Stroll, daughter of magnate Lawrence Stroll, walked with firm steps but was clearly upset, drawing the attention of onlookers. She was impossible to ignore: perfectly styled hair, carefully chosen designer clothes, and an air of someone who knew the world was at her feet. Doriane Pin, observing the scene from a distance, rolled her eyes.

"Look who’s throwing a tantrum again," Doriane murmured to a teammate, who chuckled in response.

Ever since Y/n had started accompanying her father on some Formula 1 trips, Doriane had always seen her as the walking stereotype of a “daddy’s girl.” Spoiled, constantly surrounded by privileges, and with the unique ability to turn every minor obstacle into a drama. It was irritating. For Doriane, who had fought hard to carve out her place in motorsport, it was almost an insult.

But that morning, a misunderstanding during a team meeting had left Y/n even angrier. It wasn’t clear whether it was a translation or communication issue, but Y/n interpreted it as questioning her ability to be there and stormed out of the paddock.

"Such a spoiled kid," Doriane muttered again, adjusting her jacket as she prepared for the city tour organized for team members.

---

The group gathered at the hotel entrance, ready to explore the local market and, of course, ride camels—an almost obligatory experience for tourists. To Doriane’s surprise, Y/n showed up to join the group, though her expression remained closed off.

“Oh, you’re here,” Doriane remarked, unable to hide the irony in her voice. “I thought the desert wouldn’t be worthy of you.”

Y/n shot her an icy glare. “And I thought I’d heard every cliché comment about being Lawrence Stroll’s daughter, but it seems you still have a few left.”

The quick retort caught Doriane off guard. She opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, deciding to focus on the walk to the market.

---

As the minutes passed, the group began to relax. The market was a vibrant maze of colors, sounds, and smells. Incense burned at every corner, and local vendors competed for attention with embroidered rugs, spices, and jewelry.

Doriane watched as Y/n crouched in front of a craft stall, examining handmade bracelets. For the first time, she seemed... genuine. The usual air of superiority was gone; she was just a curious young woman, enchanted by something simple.

“These are pretty,” Doriane commented, approaching without thinking.

Y/n looked up at her, surprised by the friendly tone, but gave a small smile. “They are, right? I think my mom would like them.”

Doriane tilted her head, intrigued. “You’re more thoughtful than I expected.”

Y/n chuckled softly, still browsing the bracelets. “And you’re quicker to judge than I expected.”

---

The tour continued, and Doriane found herself surprisingly comfortable in Y/n’s company. There was something about the girl’s sharp comments that made her laugh. At one point, when Y/n almost fell while climbing onto a camel, they both laughed so hard that tears streamed down their faces.

“Okay, okay, maybe you’re not as perfect as you seem,” Doriane joked, still recovering from the laughter.

“And maybe you’re less grumpy than you seem,” Y/n shot back with a sly smile.

The afternoon went on with lighthearted conversations, and Doriane began to realize that there was more to Y/n than met the eye. There was a vulnerability hidden beneath the façade of a spoiled girl. Perhaps Y/n wasn’t so different from her; perhaps she, too, carried the weight of others’ expectations.

---

Back at the hotel, as the sun set over the dunes, the two walked side by side. There were no more sarcastic remarks or provocations, just a comfortable silence.

“I always thought you hated me,” Y/n confessed suddenly, looking out at the horizon.

Doriane stopped, facing her. “I didn’t hate you. I just… thought you didn’t understand how much effort it takes to be here. That everything was easy for you.”

Y/n sighed, crossing her arms. “It might look that way, but… living in my dad’s shadow isn’t as easy as you think. Everyone always expects something from me. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Doriane nodded slowly, understanding for the first time what Y/n meant.

---

The next morning, the paddock was as busy as ever. It was race day, and the tension hung in the air. Y/n and Doriane barely had time to exchange words as the teams prepared.

But moments before the start, while Doriane was making her final adjustments, Y/n appeared out of nowhere.

“Are you nervous?” Y/n asked, looking her in the eyes.

“No more than usual,” Doriane replied, trying to sound confident.

S/n hesitated, biting her lip. Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed her. It was quick but full of meaning, as if she wanted to say everything words couldn’t.

Doriane froze for a second, but before she could say anything, Y/n gave a shy smile. “Good luck,” she said, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Doriane raised a hand to her lips, still feeling the warmth of the kiss, and smiled. Maybe Y/n Stroll wasn’t anything like she had imagined. And, perhaps, that was exactly what fascinated her.

stupid opinions don't shape a person's value. while the haters are busy with their keyboards, the people who actually know him, the people who work with him, his colleagues, his mechanics, his engineers—they respect and love him.

2019 abu dhabi gp | lando surprised perf engineer andrew jarvis with a helmet design ahead of his final race - nov 29th 2019

oh no meee shoes

nside joke turned into something way more meaningful. jarv designed a pair of shoes for lando on powerpoint (no less!) and when lando opened them on his twitch stream, everyone who was there could see the emotion on his face as he realized the thought and effort behind the gift + jarv was there, screenshotting the whole thing and then he posted it on his ig

jarv was gone for 3 years and when he finally came back to mcl f1, lando managed to secure p2 at the singapore gp making it their first podium together.

there's always this weird echo chamber online, there's always that underlying assumption that just because ppl on twitter dot com hate on him, everyone else must be on the same page. well, the ones that matter the most are not on the hate train.

I'm seeing the parallels between McLaren in F1 & IndyCar. Oscar is becoming the favourite over Lando and Christian is becoming the favourite over Pato, despite the fact Pato and Lando have been there for McLaren since the start and they've given the best part of their careers to that team and they're being pushed aside for a new shiny toy. I hate McLaren rn and I hate what they're doing to the men who gave them everything.

I don't want, I need more Susie fics

What's Better Than One Woman In Motorsports?

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Pairing: Susie Wolff x F1 Academy!reader

Warnings: Teensy bit suggestive at one point, one comment that has implied homophobia/sexism but it's quickly sorted out.

Notes: Haven't written in aaaages and I haven't written wlw before but I hope this is alright. It's based on this request and I really hope I did it some justice.

Summary: Women in many fields are accused of romancing their bosses to climb the ranks yet no one seems to suspect you and your boss... Well because you're both women. Which gives you the perfect opportunity to sneak around of course!

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You grin, the adrenaline from winning the race still not having worn off. You feel yet another pat on the back from your team; you worked extremely hard for this race. Abbie certainly put up a fight but with an overake that many were calling a "stroke of genius", you managed to take the lead and pass the checkered flag first. You skip towards the post race interviews and beam at the interviewer.

As the interviewer starts talking You, you glance behind them only to meet Susie's eyes. You look doen at the intensity of her gaze, you can feel her pride without her having to mutter a word. The interviewer asks a few bog standard questions and you awnser them all with a wide grin, thanking your team in the mean time. You're shortly ushered onto the podium where you see Suzie again.

You stand tall and wait for the awards to be given bit may or may not space out as Maya and Abbi are given their trophies. However, the sight of a familiar pair of eyes easily forces you back into consciousness. Susie gives you a wide grin that quickly turns into a smirk as you lower your head slightly to allow her to place the medal around your neck. Her hands linger a moment longer and you feel both your cheeks and the spot where her hands once lay grow slightly warmer.

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One of the advantages of working in F1 Academy was that you were under far less of a watchful eye than any F1 driver. And despite the fact that you'd love nothing more than to drive in F1, you couldn't complain when you manage to get away with things like this.

The sight of your girlfriend (and practically boss if you want to get into the logistics of things) greets you. Susie's back is turned to you but the smell is enough to tell you exactly what she's doing this early in the morning. You weave your arms around her waist and lean into her warmth.

"Morning." You can hear the smile in her voice and you give a small hum back, still with your face tucked into the back of her old Williams shirt. Susie shuffles slightly and turns around, wrapping you in a hug. "How did you sleep." You look up into her eyes and smile, "Quite well thank you. What about you?" Susie smiles and gives a similar awnser before breaking the brief picture of domesticity and pulling away to serve up some food for you.

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After a lovely breakfast and a long talk about the F1 season (the two of you have a no work talk rule but considering that neither of you work in F1, you can chatter all you want about about the 'crown of motorsports'), you both head into your bedroom to get changed.

"I saw this really nice beach nearby and wondered if you wanted to try it out?" You see Susie's look of contemplation at your words. Despite the fact that the two of you ought to keep a low profile and be miles apart in public, the sound of the two of you lounging round in the soft sun doesn't sound all too bad. "Where is it?" You rummage around in a drawer for your swimsuit. "About a twenty minute drive I think." You see the conflicted look in Susie's eyes and slowly walk up to her.

You take her hands in yours and put on your most persuasive face possible. "Please? It'll be fun and the moment we see anyone we can go." Susie makes a thoughtful noise and you begin to attach onto her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses up and down her jugular. "Fine. But we have to keep an eye out." You grin and swiftly wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you! This is going to be so fun." Susie just rolls her eyes at your far too happy reaction but smiles a bit at both your happiness but also the thought of the two of you getting to spend more time together in such a public-leaning setting.

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You wake up to the unfamiliar sensation of chilliness. You hear the distant mumbles of Susie's soft voice that finally string together as you become more awake. You try and open your eyes but are met by the harsh sun, outside of the window and so yoir eyes flitter closed again. The bed shifts beside you and you croak out a question to your girlfriend now lying her head on your shoulder. "What was that about?"

She rubs shapes into your side with her hand and pauses for a moment. "Well... let's just say you're in a shock when you check twitter later." Yoh go yo sit up and shoot the older woman a confused glance only for her to push you down gently. "That's not for now. Just rest for a bit longer." And who are you to ignore your gorgeous girlfriend when she all but forces you to stay in bed, cosied up to her for longer?

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Yourusername

Yourusername: Through people being conniving and myself not ever having enough 'juicy gossip', recently some have believed that they can be invasive and pry into my personal life. My love life and my life in general is not a topic for a news source or the subject of a photo, crafted without mine or my partner's consent. It is instead an invasion of something I hold so dearly to me and a show of awful character of others.

Despite what many may tell you, my relationship is neither wrong or inappropriate. The correct people are aware of it (and said there was no issue from the get go), and both my girlfriend and myself hold professionalism to the highest standard - and would never let anything interfere eith our jobs. I love Susie but I would do anything for my job, including of course following every rule to a T. I don't appreciate the speculation many of you have begun to create and I think some may need to take a step back and realise the negative impact of your words on not only the people in the sport, but also on yourselves.

I love Susie. I'm not embarrassed about it but I am sorry that the many of you only recieved conformation from someone that thought their judgement about our relationship was better than our own.

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

(I'm not sure who to tag and sorry, this is probably not your thing)

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

Well, people have talked, I'll probably post the first idea this week. I'll post an introduction later.

I'm thinking about starting to post fanfic ideas that occur to me, just uploading the concepts with some details or plot lines.

ollie and kimi sitting on the floor of the prema driver’s truck after their last feature race debrief watching as every engineer and mechanic filter out for the last time from the place they were raised. No more Prema Party’s. no more floor is lava. No more birthday pies in the face. No more Pedro or Rene or Carlo. They’ll never film another lap or stupid challenge. They just have each other and the last dwindling few minutes they can spend as kids before being told to leave