Carcar - Blog Posts

girlgirl carcar !

Monaco ✅

Forced myself to get this done before the end of the week...is anyone even active on F1blr rn 😭😭

Starting lap and we have:

A yellow flag (Sainz puncture after contact w Piastri - NOT a dnf)

A red flag (Perez's tyres all gone after an incident with both haas)

Ocon DNF after lunging at his teammate and causing damage to both cars

Update: ALL DRIVERS OK

Monaco24 - Qualifying

P20-15: Zhou, Bottas, Perez, Sergeant, Alonso

P15-11: Magnussen, Stroll, Ricciardo, Hulkenberg, Ocon

P10-1: Gasly, Albon, Tsunoda, Hamilton, Verstappen, Russell, Norris, Sainz, Piastri, Leclerc

Verstappen hits the wall on his final lap, goes slower on all sectors

Albon gets William's first Q3 entry of the season

Logan Sargeant outqualifies Perez in the Red Bull without upgrades 🔥🔥

Oscar Piastri to start P2 after losing his front row position in Imola (penalty for impeding)

So much traffic in Q1-2...

List of impeding incidents being investigated after the session:

Hulkenberg on Ocon

Albon on Sainz

Zhou, Bottas on Ricciardo

tagged by @testarossa @crudeoildistillation @magnificentbirb (last week kekekeke) and @seaplease for wip wednesday!

“Uh,” Carlos says, in a poor attempt to stall for time. “Could you let me keep my identification, at least? And one credit card? It’s my turn to pay for dinner.”

Teto’s always told him to get Apple Pay set up. Teto’s going to have the time of his life when he finds out.

His assailant sticks out a hand, crooking his fingers in the universal gesture for, Hand it over.

“Fine,” Carlos says sullenly.

He’ll have to cancel his cards, which is annoying. He’ll have to report his stolen driver’s license, which is even more annoying. Damn this place. And damn Oscar, for even suggesting they get out for some dinner. Carlos should have known better than to listen to him—ever.

“Not my phone,” Carlos says, dismayed. “I’ve already given you what you asked. Por favor, there’s close to five hundred dollars in my wallet.”

Some yelling, some posturing with the baseball bat, the tip of which gets very close to Carlos’s nose. He almost grows cross-eyed trying to track its wayward path. The Gigi in his mind is yelling at him, don’t negotiate, don’t attempt it, give the guy what he wants. Just give it to him! But adrenaline builds up, coursing down from the top of his head to the rest of his body. There’s, well. There’re texts in his phone. There’re pictures. Not just of himself.

Decision made in a second. The burst of charge exits out his feet like lightning, and Carlos stops thinking to pivot and run. More yelling, followed by the metallic clank of the baseball bat narrowly missing him and finding a permanent mark in the alley wall. Fucking hell, have they never heard of a streetlamp in Melbourne? Where the hell is he going? Left first, then right. Huff, huff, breathe deep, breathe even. There’s absolutely no way some random guy trying to rob him can outstrip Carlos in a competition of speed. No way. Never mind that it’s been happening in a different context entirely. There’re no machines involved here. Just the strength of his legs, and a body which hasn’t abandoned him yet. The phone he holds in a death grip in his right hand. Head down, arms swing, go, go, go—

Fuck, ow. Ow. Fuck.

Apparently, there’re curbs and things which serve to trip people when they’re running through the street. Down he goes in a mess of limbs. He scrapes his elbow, forearms, then palms in quick succession. Skin rolled up on the surface like crumpled paper, he’ll start bleeding in a minute. Breath knocked out of him, Carlos barely has time to toss himself around, and raise an arm up to defend against the baseball bat swinging its merry way down.

A shocked gasp, a wounded sound, made by someone other than him. Carlos forces his scrunched eyes open. There’s a patch of dark in front of him, or above him rather, darker than the surrounding night. Half of the dark patch has a face. A mouth grimacing, lips caught in between teeth. Huh. Cute teeth.  

Carlos doesn’t know much about Melbourne’s vigilante, only that he makes appearances in the night and dresses in stylish Kevlar. No amount of padding is going to stop a baseball bat from hurting though.

“Get up,” Carlos whispers to him.

Those lips wobble, and then flatten as if in annoyance, and Masked Man shifts his weight off of Carlos. Like he’s affronted. It appears as though Carlos can do no right, tonight.

The baseball bat makes its move again, though the sound of impact is weaker this time, panicked. Masked Man growls, pissed off. Carlos swallows down a squeak. Another attempt at a swing is caught in a gloved palm, and Masked Man jerks the bat out of the assailant’s hands with enough force for the guy to stumble back, wind in his sails all gone. The fight’s pretty much over, which is slightly anti-climatic. Guy Who Used to Have Baseball Bat is already hightailing it out of here.

“Ay,” Carlos says, when it becomes abundantly clear Masked Man isn’t going to say anything. “Dating, am I right? Dangerous scene.”

Masked Man flings himself around, presumably to chastise Carlos for gallivanting in the dark, but any form of lecture dissolves into a hiss of pain. A very small, very unguarded sound. Only now does Carlos notice Masked Man is devoid of Kevlar, apart from the cowl and the gloves. He’s donned in a black, soft turtleneck, and nice, slim-fitting jeans.

“You patrol without armour?” Unbelievable, prioritising fashion over functionality. “What kind of vigilante are you?”

The mouth moves into a scowl. Carlos is no lip-reader, but it isn’t hard when Masked Man’s teeth form around the word Idiot so clearly.

“Yes, yes.” Carlos rolls his eyes. “I shouldn’t have been out, yes?”

Masked Man glares, gesturing indignantly at Carlos’s phone, still somehow nestled in his right hand.

“Hey,” Carlos says weakly. He clutches the phone to his chest. “I have important things in here.”

Masked Man glares even more, batting away Carlos’s attempts to reach out. Guilt niggles at the base of Carlos’s spine, worms its way into his chest. Masked Man had stepped in between Carlos and a baseball bat with no form of protection, whatsoever. Nothing but his bare back, which should be turning black-and-blue right about now. Carlos doesn’t point out that Masked Man should probably seek medical attention, knowing very well it wouldn’t be appreciated.

“Ice first,” Carlos blurts out, before Masked Man can whisk himself away in smoke, or however cool, edgy way superheroes like to disappear. “Ice to reduce swelling. Heat for later to encourage healing.”

The cowl blends seamlessly into the night with how dark it is. Vantablack, Carlos’s brain supplies, somewhat impressed. It only serves to highlight the whites in Masked Man’s eyes, shocked and round, like he can’t believe Carlos would say something even remotely helpful. 

“I get bruises all the time,” Carlos insists, somehow wanting to prove his expertise. Masked Man straightens up agitatedly, and Carlos waves it off. “From seatbelts. It’s a long story. Listen. Ice first, then heat, okay?”

A half shrug.

Carlos nods, satisfied. He turns around, allowing Masked Man the privacy to disappear in a suitably cool way. Takes less than a few seconds, and Masked Man is gone.

It takes Carlos a few more seconds to realize he’s forty-five minutes past when he was supposed to meet Oscar, and also hopelessly lost. He retraces his steps like a baby foal while texting Caco, completely unaware of his surroundings in a way that Masked Man would surely disapprove.

hey could you cancel my cards

What why.

Carlos why

Carlos?

never mind, i am all good. Wonders of wonders, his wallet is safely tucked into his back pocket, as if it had never left. Carlos grins. Masked Man is very sneaky! He has saved Carlos having to make a police report, which makes him ace in Carlos’s book. Carlos should get on the hero forums on Reddit and rate him. He should do that now, before he forgets.

melbourne’s masked man: five stars!

fought off a baseball bat with just gloves and returned my wallet. he should try to wear padding of some sort. cool mask.

Carlos hesitates. Adds: cute teeth. it was all i could see of his face

By the time he makes it to the restaurant, Carlos is so late he’d be surprised if Oscar didn’t throw a glass of water at him. It’s a little sadder to discover Oscar isn’t even there. In fairness, Carlos would be pretty annoyed if his dinner partner were to show up as if he came from a different time zone. All the same, it would have been nice if Oscar at least texted before he left. Even to say, Where the hell are you?

Carlos sulks at his phone. Someone liked his review on Reddit. His stomach growls petulantly. Well, fuck it. Oscar did say the BBQ here was good.

--

He will never go as far as to say he’s “good” at media, but with this many fan stages under his belt, the questions are no longer as tricky to navigate. How are you feeling about your chances this weekend? Anything you want to say to the fans? When will you go on a golf date with Alex? Carlos smiles and answers in half-truths, all the while tracing the chicanes of the Shanghai track in his head. The first two bends lead immediately into turn three and four. One and two are more difficult, requiring lift on entry, but a good exit is necessary on four. Yes, I gave some good advice to the rookies. Keep pushing always.

It takes Carlos a surprising long time to notice. Surprising because he’s been priding himself on noticing, lately. Whether the swoop of hair on Oscar’s forehead falls to the left or the right, how many freckles he’s accumulating as the weeks go by. On stage, Oscar’s gone ahead and dissociated so hard he isn’t even on the same planet. Staring out at some spot between the crowd and the ground, mouth soft in its slackness. Carlos recognizes the look. He can only hope he’s never been this obvious.

“Oscar,” he says, voice hovering between teasing and tentative. “You haven’t talked.”

Oscar’s scowl disappears so quickly no one else would’ve caught it. But, well. Carlos has been noticing.

“I was quite happy just standing here,” Oscar says, almost resigned, but then media personality kicks in and he launches into a suitable answer.

Oops, Carlos thinks, and certainly enough, backstage, Oscar yanks him away into a corner.

“Mate,” he says, looking this close to stomping his foot. Carlos might go so far as to say he’s whining. Imagine that, Oscar whining. “You, like, shift into a separate dimension all the time during interviews and I’m nice enough not to point it out in front of hundreds of people.”

Carlos juts his jaw out, catches Oscar’s eyes following the movement. He’s trying to stall for time. In truth he could’ve left Oscar to his own devices. Why didn’t he? Saying he wanted to hear Oscar talk was going to scrape a little too close to his ribs for his liking.

“You stood me up,” he blurts out. It’s possible he’s panicking a little. “I didn’t know what to order! They gave me the giant barbeque platter. Do you know how sad that made me look? Eating all the chicken wings by myself?”

Oscar’s face makes some ridiculous shape, eyebrows shooting up, eyes growing wide, mouth forming around outrage.

“You—that’s why you called me out on stage?” Oscar says. He’s being so incredulous and Carlos probably shouldn’t laugh. “You’re. You’re the worst!”

“Aw,” Carlos says, somewhat unaffected, but now growing equally incredulous. “So why did you?”

Oscar flushes, all the way down from his hairline. It’s not not cute. “I was—I mean, there was. An incident. And I. Couldn’t get to you in time.”

“Oh-kay,” Carlos says, shrugging as nonchalantly as he can. It’s not as if Oscar was the one getting mugged. “Don’t tell me then. You’re lucky I’m very forgiving.”

He claps Oscar on the back vigorously to show how forgiving he is. What he doesn’t expect is the way Oscar stiffens, so hard it looks painful. The planes of his face shift, and colour leeches out of his skin quicker than litmus paper in acid. From pink to pallor. In a failed attempt to stop any noise escaping, Oscar catches his bottom lip with his two front teeth, so hard he might draw blood.

Huh. His teeth.

If. If Carlos had. Retired last year. He doesn’t like thinking about that, how close it felt to coming true. But if it had happened. It’s possible he could’ve transitioned to another role in the garage. He might have struggled with algebra, according to his old math teacher, but he’s good with statistics, data. He knows how to put pieces of a puzzle together. And he knows when they fit just right.

Carlos takes Oscar’s trembling elbow, very gently. “Gigi keeps some painkillers in the motorhome, c’mon.”

There’s a moment in which Carlos thinks Oscar will try to refuse him, and he’d have to sling Oscar over his shoulder somehow to force his compliance. But then Oscar clenches his jaw, and obediently allows himself to be led away.

“I shouldn’t have,” Oscar says, midway through Carlos cramming a pill down Oscar’s throat like he would an uncooperative cat, “been out late last night. That’s, uh. That’s why I’m in. Such rough shape.”

“Oh yes. Partying with Lando usually results in aches and pain and tears the next day. You know what else results in aches and pain and tears?”

Oscar stares at him, stiffening.

“Getting a baseball bat to the back,” Carlos says wisely. “And then underdosing on painkillers so you can appear lucid on stage.”

“Not that lucid,” Oscar mumbles. “You caught me.”

Carlos wants Oscar to un-porcupine himself. Wants some softness for his poor, bruised back. “I have nothing against doing the, vigi--vigilante?”

“Vigilantism.”

“Thank you. Nothing against that. Just against illogical, unpadded, nonsense armour.”

“I know.” Oscar rolls his eyes. “I read your review. Someone saves your life and the first thing you do is to complain online. Typical.”

“Typical Carlos,” Carlos says, smiling.

“Yeah,” Oscar says, though his shoulders are less hunched now, and he’s smiling right back. “Typical Carlos.”

hiiii if you’re doing requests rn i’d go feral for some carcar art. they can be doing whatever im just obsessed with that pairing at the moment and need more content

it was fun drawing them! sorry if it looks bad, i never drew oscar before and it took me a while aaaa

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Formula 1 RPF Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz Jr Characters: Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr Additional Tags: Hungarian Grand Prix 2024, Light Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Oscar Piastri Needs a Hug, Caring Carlos Sainz Jr, Protective Carlos Sainz Jr, I Tried, I Don't Even Know, How Do I Tag Summary:

Carlos comforts Oscar after a tense race, helping him deal with feelings of guilt and inadequacy.

Im into something🦀

😧😧‼️‼️

yes. i cried while reading this carcar ao3, and my whole family was asking my what the fuck is wronh with me. WELL I THOUGHT THIS FIC WILL BE FUNNY, BUT NO.

if you like carcar, this is one of the best fic.

You'll Just Have To Remind Me by the_e_sea: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62250595

has a fanfiction ever left you sobbing in shambles on a weekday morning? yeah me neither

what if... a gala/premier night, and then both of them kind of prepared themselves together because they were the actors, and they fell in love🤧🤧🤧

it hurts so bad, i feel empty🚶‍♀️

written in the margins

Carlos has forgotten the life he’s known for the past 16 years—his championship wins, his kids, and his husband who just so happens to be the guy he swears he hates the most.

📖 prologue | chapter one: hospitals | chapter two: home | chapter three: space | chapter four: family | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight

💿 playlist

F1 ACC ADMINS???!?!?!?!?!

the carcar fem! arts are so many noww, and i just can't stop thinking that female carlos is blanca and female oscar is hattie😭

re-reading grill the grid, and probably solar flare too

For those who don't ship Carcar, I recommend staying far away from the community because we are a very lively group. If I had to compare, I would see the Carcar fandom as a group of old ladies who meet up to drink tea and knit.

OH THE UPDATE IS SO GOOD BUT CLIFFHANGER 😭😭😭😭 I WANT TO CRY

racing hearts and baby steps making my heart ache so badly. i need to know what will happened after😭😭😭

racing hearts and baby steps making my heart ache so badly. i need to know what will happened after😭😭😭

MAGNETS IS CARCAR'S SONG

trying to collect some pop songs that match carcar, do you have any recs?

boy do i ever

gorgeous by taylor swift

you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong

red wine supernova by chappell roan

fell in love with the thought of you. now i'm choked up, face down, burnt out

greek god by conan gray

i don't mind when you play with my head. i flip it around, play with yours instead

boyfriend by dove cameron

up all night, i won't quit. i'm gonna steal you from him

magnets by niki

either way, you have me at my wit's end. guess what i'm trying to say is - i'd rather die than be friends

PLEASE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF RE-READING YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME CARCAR😭😭😭 AO3 PLEASE COMEBACKK😭😭😭

carcar x princess diaries 2

wdym this is not carcar?

carlos corporate!guy x oscar f1!driver

thinking about corporate man carlos who casually has a paddock ticket because of his friends (lando/charles/max). carlos had to pick either mclaren/ferrari/redbull facility each time he could watch the race. and when he chooses mclaren after 3 times at ferrari and 5 times at redbull, carlos bumps into the younger driver of the team, aka mr. oscar piastri.

awkward and very cold, but after one time at the mclaren facility, carlos somehow got oscar's phone number.

there's where all it started✨️

*oscar has already noticed on carlos after 4 races as a rookie, and lando being lando, of course he cried to oscar about how his friend doesn't want to stay at mclaren paddock. but in his second year as a driver, the handsome man stayed at the papaya garage and asked for his phone number. the waiting is worth it🤭 and carlos is wearing either his button-up baby blue shirts (sometimes he came straight from his offline/online meetings, and for once it's pink) or his polo shirts.

'i wish you'd talk'

a carcar short au✨️ written hastily😓 (inspired by 'talk talk' by charlie xcx)

“Your Hungarian Grand Prix Winner, Oscar Piastri! Give a big applause and raise your glass for him, everyone!” the DJ from the booth speaks his name, and Oscar just smiles at the crowd who cheered.

The club is crowded, and Lando is gone probably searching for something (or someone). George and Alex are probably talking about Fernando, who was throwing a tantrum because the FIA guessed him as Brad Pitt, while Charles and Pierre are talking about the Olympics (they are curious to swim at the Seine).

And then there is this guy, who looks so good. Wearing his baby blue linen shirt, hair flipped like it came out from the salon, and face sculpted like Greek Gods. Ferrari does have the best-looking driver line-up.

“Enjoying your view, Oscar?” he said and rolled his ‘R’.

Well, of course. “Nope, you covered my view.”

The man chuckled and took a sip from his glass, “Sorry for that,” and he leaned back to the sofa.

“I was just kidding, Carlos. Just sit like you were,” the younger turned to him.

Oscar instantly regretted that he turned to Carlos because now he looked right into Carlos’ eyes. Beautiful eyes.

For the past few months, both of them have been spending some time together. After the Miami Grand Prix (where all collided), it’s either Carlos going to the McLaren accommodation or meeting at a local restaurant where nobody recognized them while eating delicacies and talking. It’s only both of them, and they found some similarities between them (both have the same race engineer at McLaren, little white dogs, used to drive for Arden) and then so many differences (too much, but they agreed on some discussions).

Carlos is not complicated, he thought. But Carlos has so many layers like cakes. And Oscar finds it very comforting because Carlos has nothing to hide other than his burger restaurant in Madrid.

“Okay, campeón,” Carlos moves closer to Oscar. It felt so right.

When the night gets much darker and slowly turns to dawn, Oscar gets drunker and drunker because Pierre has secretly bought so many kinds of alcohol.

“Carlos,” he nudges Carlos’ shoulder.

“Yes, Oscar?”

“Can we go home?” his eyes begged because Oscar was knackered.

Carlos nodded, “Let’s go,” he helped Oscar to get up and held his waist to stabilize the younger.

Charles looks confused at his teammate, and Carlos just looks at him. “Gotta give him a lift, I’m not drunk.”

The man nodded, “Yes, please. We don’t even know where’s Lando or George. I’ll be with Pierre.”

“Okay, I’ll get going,” said Carlos while Oscar was deep in his sleep on Carlos’ neck.

“Be safe, and don’t–

“I’ll be on the speed limit, Charles,” he smiles at his teammate and walks to the exit.

While waiting for the car, Oscar is sniffing Carlos like he is trying to know what is the smell. “Kid, you’re not a dog,” Carlos chuckled.

“You smelled like rich people, Carlos,” he mumbled. Oscar is rich from his Formula 1 paycheck, but he doesn't smell like Carlos.

“Thanks,” the car arrived and Carlos helped Oscar to get into the passenger seat of his red Ferrari, and he even made Oscar wear the seatbelt.

Throughout the journey, Oscar is only mumbling, and Carlos blames it on Pierre and his choice of alcohol.

“Carlos?”

“Yes, Oscar?”

“I wish you’d talk,”

“Talk about what?”

“Talk to me,”

“About what?”

“Wish you’d just talk to me,”

“Oscar, you’re drunk–

“Talk to me in Spanish, talk to me, just talk, Carlos.”

If Carlos doesn’t remember that they’re on the road somewhere, he probably instantly breaks.

“Just talk to me, Carlos,” Oscar keeps mumbling from his sleep, but somehow he finds Carlos’ thigh and rests his hand there.

Carlos is trying to focus on the road, but he replies nervously, “Sí, sí. ¿De qué quieres hablar, mi pequeño koala?”

He only sighed and fell deep in his sleep, looking like a kid.

And yes, Carlos held Oscar's hand that was still on his thigh. Tightly.

summer break idea?

✨️JULY 30 IS CARCAR'S ANNIVERSARY✨️

so im sleepy, but somehow, my brain is thinking about this✨️✨️✨️

so basically, carlos is obsessed with p5 while oscar is obsessed with p4. BUT carlos is on p4 wdc, while oscar is on p5 wdc.

*romancing with the enemy

so im sleepy, but somehow, my brain is thinking about this✨️✨️✨️

magnets❌️

married✅️

tbh it's a random ship, but as a fan of both, this is so fun?! from nothing to enemies on track and now sharing podiums? what a life✨️

hi gang. for absolutely zero reason at all of course hahahaha what are your thoughts on carcar. as a concept

carcar is so 'espresso' coded. like wdym "we have some kind of magnet"??? carlos is thinking about oscar, and he cannot make that little aussie wombat out from his spanish brain.

they do these for the girls, aren't they?