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itsvelyria · 2 months

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"alternate universes w the f1 drivers"

Charles Leclerc

A tense atmosphere hangs in the still air of the conference room. The guards of the neutral faction glance at each other, be that in trepidation or anticipation, you couldn't give two hoots. If you had a little more presence of mind, perhaps you would have scoffed at the sight of such timidity. But your attention had been focused on one thing even before you stepped foot into the room - Leclerc, the commander of your universes' nemesis and your self-proclaimed enemy. Even as both your universes teetered on the brink of a cosmic conflict over some glowing orb of unfathomable power, you could see nothing but his equally unwavering stare boring into you. It was a battlefield of carefully chosen words and tempered anger, the kind you were terrible at, and a desperate attempt to find common ground in the midst of interdimensional tension. Memories of recent battles played like vivid flashbacks in your mind – your successful conquering of New York, and then counted with major loss suffered in the faraway battlegrounds of Thailand at his hands. The friction between you two mirrored the larger conflict, a reflection of the cosmic struggles that had engulfed your universes. Each word uttered by your superiors and his felt like a strategic move on a celestial chessboard, with the stakes higher than ever. The table, littered with holographic projections and tactical maps, became a battlefield of its own, an arena for diplomatic warfare. Amid the charged atmosphere, you two stood tall as commanders of your respective armies, your universes hanging in the balance, and the fate of countless lives rested on the outcome of this uneasy negotiation.

Carlos Sainz

You can't stop the sly smile from spreading on your lips when one of your maids discreetly places a charcoal-coloured envelope next to your plate. The conversation about the northern harvest abruptly fades as your eyes lock onto the crimson seal adorned with an embossed helm, an unmistakable insignia of authority. The seemingly simple package, however, emanates opulence, from the shimmering paper to the vibrant pigment of the wax. It speaks of a wealth only a king could possess - the Ruler of the Underworld, your husband. Beside you, your mother's disapproval is palpable, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the letter from your elusive beloved. Despite her repeated skepticism regarding the legitimacy of your marriage, a quiet rebellion has taken root in your heart, growing into a conspicuous flower that refuses to be overlooked. In a huff, your mother excuses herself, unable to endure the presence of the offensive missive on her table. Meanwhile, you handle the delicate task of peeling the seal with utmost care. The pages that spill out consume your entire morning, each carefully chosen word and artfully crafted sentence nurturing the burgeoning emotion within you, a fervent longing for the man. Tracing the signature at the end, the cursive letters spelling Carlos's name evoke the vivid memory of him signing his name on the palm of your hand that teary evening before your departure.

Danny Ricciardo

Your workshop is beyond cluttered. You know this. And on usual days, you don’t mind it in the least bit. But when you can’t find the only wrench that works, it is basically hell for you. You rifle through bags of nails and bolts, wondering if it is possible for a black hole to open at random to steal one’s only good tool. The plastic baggie of sequins that you bought to adorn Danny’s suit as a prank explodes as you toss it to the ground harshly, decorating the air with pink metallic confetti. Your hands pause over the table, eyes pressed closed in the hopes that your temper will settle itself magically. It doesn’t. But the door to your workshop does open, and the cheery voice of your partner asks if there is a party going on. You turn to him with the deadliest expression you can muster, telling him that you aren’t in the mood for jokes. “Will coffee help?” he asks, his unruly curls pushed up by the goggle on his head, holding up a mug. You feel the tension in you jaw loosen and nod, taking the metal cup from him gratefully. The amazing coffee smell wafts into the air as you open the lid and take a sip. He asks what you were looking for, already sweeping up the sequins from the floor as you collapse into your stool to enjoy the caffeine. You tell him in-between mouthfuls of the precious liquid. “I told you to keep your station clean,” he wags a finger at you in mock lecture. “And I told you I’d do it when you clean out your closet,” you shoot back bitingly. He sticks out a tongue at you as he dumps the collected sequins into the trash. Danny holds his hand out for the empty mug like he does on the coffee run he insists on doing for you every day. “Your wrench is right there by the way.” You swivel in the direction the pilot points, spying the goddamn tool right there beside the toolbox. A curse spills from your lips. “Love you too,” your boyfriend presses a kiss to your cheek as he leaves the door, already late for his practice session.

George Russell

The colossal estate towers over you in a show of intimidation, even more so than 17 years ago when you were deposited at the front door and it was introduced as your new home. Perhaps it was the fact that in the room with the round window on the second floor, sat the very man who had shaped you into the officer you were today, someone you would forever be indebted to and the folder in your hands had to power to ruin his life's work. Your feet propels you forward, the duty you were sworn to uphold taking charge over the fog that clouded your perception now. In the ancient study room, you greet your adoptive father whose eerily calm composure hints at his awareness of the purpose of your visit. And so you lay it out. The mosaic of the photographs and documents, the tangled threads of your past and his lay out in the open. Taking out the last photograph, you pause to study the profile of the man who should have been in your place, the cheeky look in his eyes and the impish charm glaring through the still image. You slide the photograph across the desk, utterly still as the man behind it scrutinizes it. The air hangs heavy with the unspoken words, the undeniable connection that lingered between you three, and imaginary weight of your disclosure pressing down on your throat at the very moment. You were well aware of the ruin that could be brought upon you with this discussion and yet you were still here, confessing the sins of his child to him. His response is stoic, the same measured tone that rings through your ears when you screw up. "Do what you must." The words hang over your head as you exit the manor, already on the phone with your superior officer for a warrant request for a George Russell.

Lando Norris

The daily Elemental assembly meeting was something you dreaded with a passion. 6 elements, all with wildly different personalities and priorities engaged in what you can only describe as immortal combat. Today's battle amongst the jewel-toned silks emblazoned with your crests was over the luscious piece of untouched land up north. You slammed your hands on the table as the Head of the Fire elements begins detailing the plan his council had drafted for the beautiful plot of soil. If he wanted to build a fucking heat machine, he could do it over your dead body. The unjustified stare he shoots you should send normal people back-pedalling into their opinions, except you were not "normal people". Unlike all the other heads here, you have had the terrible misfortune of being Lando's classmate all throughout your schooling years. It has been ruthless threats and one-upping each other since your first childhood memory. When he was elected head of his kind, you too were appointed leader of yours. And thus started a new chapter in your rivalry that continued to this present moment. You slam the car door angrily, muttering under your breath at the infuriating man and his stubborn opinions. "I thought we agreed not to bring work outside of the building." Your husband slides into the seat beside you, his scarlet orange suit blinding your vision as you shoot him a dry look. "Let's get lunch before my council meeting with the fire elders." The nonchalant tone rings through your ear drums and you feel it water down the rage that was blazing in you. "You have a community session right?", followed by "Shall we watch that movie you've been talking about tonight?" and the fire washes away completely.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis doesn’t like this. The lumpy seats provide no support and the intrusion into his life is not something to just get used to. But it means he can continue to chase the dream of playing bass around the world, so he settles into the interview. Surprisingly, the interviewer was interested in more than his gym routine and the rockstar life, posing a question about his time in music school, more specifically the conservatory where he played the violin. And so, he recalls the late-night practice sessions and composing classes where is almost tore out all his hair, all his memories leading to the same person. The interviewer brings the topic to his final year showcase, the culmination of his studies and the last fond memory of sharing the stage with his favourite musician. “I understand you are friends with the pianist of the San Francisco Symphony,” the leading statement loaded with intention even as the interviewer shoots him her most brilliant smile. Lewis laughs. He can’t help it as he thinks of how you were probably watching this and spamming him with messages right now. He agrees with the interviewer, thinking of his confidante all the way in a different state at this moment, staying up late to watch the interview. “Just friends then?” The prompt sends him into a fit of giggles even as he answers. But he thinks of the flowers he sends for every single one of your performances and concerts, receiving a call from you afterwards with a selfie and he knows, that deep down, even as his lips define it as a friendship, his very soul knows it wants more than that with you.

Max Verstappen

You would kill Yuki one day. And if you didn’t, you would turn yourself a ghost and push him into a hole somewhere for ditching you at lunch. He knew damn well how you felt about being alone in a crowded Great Hall and the little spitball was still nowhere to be found. Damned betrayer. Gripping your books tightly, you wondered if it was too late to escape to the library. The sudden pressure around your wrist comes out of nowhere and you jump, instinctively glaring at the offender. Max releases your wrist at the sharp look and suddenly, you miss the warmth of his palm on your skin. You mentally slap yourself as you glance to the side and meet a familiar pair of eyes. Your sister sends a small smile in greeting, her canary yellow-trimmed robes rustling as she does. “I need a favor,” your friend poses the statement at you once the sharp look softens into something you won’t name. “What is it?” you ask, not trusting your voice. “Tutor me in runes tonight,” his reply comes instantly, though it sounds more like a demand. Your sister reacts to this by grabbing her boyfriend’s arm in confusion. “You are having trouble in runes?” Watching the exchange, you feel yourself inching away from the potential couple fight. What stops you, is Max turning to you and repeating the question. You can see your sister roll her eyes out of the corner of your mind and determining it as an okay sign, you agree before your brain can point out everything wrong with this scenario. You collapse onto the empty bench at your house's table, and like the devil he is, Yuki appears. At the sight of his happy beam, you are once again reminded of why you do not lunch alone.

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itsvelyria · 2 months

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WHY YOU SHOULD WRITE HORRIBLY:

1. You’ll never write anything if you don’t

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itsvelyria · 2 months

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i'm deceased. alex liked the original tweet as well, he's so dear to me

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itsvelyria · 2 months

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alex can’t look at his screen coz it’s brighter than the sun, charles can’t brake, lewis’ ass did break the seat, yuki’s gonna beat up someone in the garage and max is more than 20 seconds ahead of everyone.

motorsport is still alive and well.

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itsvelyria · 2 months

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Charles is a better man than me because if my team had me out there racing at 200+ km/h with questionable brakes, I'd stop the car on track and start biting people like a rabid dog

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itsvelyria · 2 months

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"f1 drivers as happy taylor swift songs"

happy testing week everybody!!

Charles Leclerc

yeah, you know i did one thing right🩷

he watches as you mutter conspiratorially with his mother, whispers in each other's ears and shooting glares to whoever dares eavesdrop. sitting on his childhood sofa, he reflects on the past and his life, pondering in the moment of silence. and there is this voice in his head that talks to him, reminding him of every regret, every single person he's loved and lost. he tries to shut the voice out, knowing full well the negativity never does any good. but as arthur had put it at dinner earlier, it seems as though he's been more relaxed of late. he brushes it off, but as his eyes train on the one he loved getting along swimmingly with the woman who loved him first, he thinks to chalk it up to the tiny nagging voice in his head that had appeared a few days ago out of the blue. the voice was a stark contrast to its predecessor, this one a ball of golden light, saying that maybe he's fucked up a lot, but at least he's got you.

Carlos Sainz

i know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey💕

there is this undeniable tingle in his spine when your soft skin presses against his. even in the blistering Spanish heat, he welcomes any skin contact from you. he glances down at where the floppy sunhat blocks most of your face from the sun, and your eyes from his. wondering how much trouble you would give him if he flings the dreadful hat into the ocean, he misses the request you direct up at him. repeating the question, he nods, taking the suncream from your outstretched hands. he takes his time with the lotion, savouring every second his hands are on your back. you thank him with a quick press of your lips to his cheek and he rests a hand on your thigh, bending down to steal another from your lips. his love language was definitely physical touch, especially if it was yours.

Danny Ricciardo

i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried💚

the sunshine is warm on your skin but the shoulder that brushes against yours is warmer. danny’s contagious laughter is carried by the gentle breeze that passes through the park. at age 9, danny had charmed your mom enough to let him bring her 7-year-old out on an adventure. your peripheral vision shows a teenage couple giggling over clasped hands, and when you’re young, you don’t think of the consequences, so the words slip out. “i bet you won't kiss me right here, right now”. and danny leans in, always ready for any challenge. and just as your lips are about to meet, you burst into laughter, darting away. you can still remember delightfully screaming through the public park as danny gives chase. it’s the same park he proposed in, after all.

George Russell

you wish it was me, don't you?💜

immersed in the classy ambiance of an art exhibition, george navigates the gallery adorned with bright splashes of paint marked contemporary. despite being engaged in interesting chatter, an inexplicable force compels you to lift your gaze, and it locks onto the familiar curls across the room. amid the elegant hum of hushed whispers, the air shifts, his lingering eyes meeting yours, giving rise to a thump in your chest. as his blue orbs drink in your form. once. twice. the rising tension manifests in the prickle of your bare shoulders and the unspoken question echoes amidst the artistic expressions. you yearn to step closer, to be the one on his arm. but long strands of brown silk and emerald green are in your place. and though his eyes long to meet yours again, there is nothing but empty space in your stead.

Lando Norris

so baby, can we dance through an avalanche?🖤

you drop the heavy box on the floor, the fatigue in your bones too wearisome to hold you up any longer. coupled with the emptiness of your apartment and the lack of a certain laughter in the stagnant air, you crumple onto the unmade bed. lying there for what seems like eternity, the thoughts of your future and whatnot plaguing your mind. the weight of unemployment burns heavily, so much so that you miss the sound of the door letting someone through. another body sags beside you, the familiar cologne staining your nostrils. your head turns, finding purchase in the shoulder beside. the stupid orange shirt reminds you of your limited time with him and something clicks. the home system is called upon as a DJ, playing soundtracks of celebration as you pull your boyfriend around the room in a made-up waltz, laughing at his put-out expression and then over the absolute misery that is life. despite the chaos, your heart still finds comfort in its other half’s presence.

Lewis Hamilton

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours💙

as you clean the apartment you share with lewis, your gaze falls onto the cream card hidden just between your books. Persuasion and Porchia, you note. the seal on it a light purple, the shape of a heart in the hardened wax, and you can picture your boyfriend sliding it onto your bookshelf before he had left for another race this morning, a smirk on his face as he imagines you finding it, and you already know what it is. tracing the edges of the envelope lightly, you break the seal and slide the pages out, unfolding it to reveal the handwriting you had come to reverent. in swooping sloping cursive letters, he proclaims his love again, like he does in every single one of these. and as cheesy as it is, you treasure every single one of them, tucking them away in a little box at the corner of your wardrobe. someday when you have kids, maybe you'll take it out to show them just how deeply their father loves.

Max Verstappen

i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you🩶

he knew this. he knew full well his career would take him across the world for three quarters out of the year and yet, the one thing he failed to realize was that nothing would feel like home. and then he found you, the absolute enigma that chose to do the same thing he did, realising early on that your home wasn’t in a place. and the streets of Kyoto were just lifeless alleyways till you pointed out the cosy glow of the warm streetlights with your brown streaked hair that shined gold under them and the dark nightscape with the way you shined in his eyes. you did the same for the beaches in Miami and balconies of Spain, easing the loneliness in his memories. slowly but surely, the words you had spoken to him were coming true and his home was taking the shape of you.

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itsvelyria · 3 months

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hii i just wanted to say that i love everything you write!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

thank you so much!! this means a lot to me🤍

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itsvelyria · 3 months

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"types of smiles the f1 boys would love from their s/o"

happy show-your-loved-ones-you-love-them day!! 🤍🤎

Charles Leclerc

the shy smile: he fell in love with you when he saw that smile for the first time. he always knew you were too good, too nice to this cruel world and despite all the hardships you’d faced, you somehow still retained that innocence from childhood. that shy smile, all gentle and modest — he liked to think you reserved it solely for him, made his heart flutter like a schoolboy with their first crush all over again. your lowered eyes, radiating a certain charm he could never put to words. it was like he was cleansed from all the negativity that accompanied his line of work. maybe it would be better to say he was your devoted follower, begging his goddess for just a glimpse of her smile every so often.

Carlos Sainz

the loving smile: it wasn’t like Carlos had never had a crush before, hell he’s been in a long-term relationship before. but never has he felt the pull to you so strong before, even as you are right across him, laughing at something his sister said. his mind can only focus on the way your eyes sparkle at dinner with his family, mapping the crinkles beside them. and as the gaze he is dying to have land on him does, the bright smile shifts, edges softening into fondness, the slight raise of your eyebrows asking what he needed. he reaches across the table, greedily needing to feel your warmth too, wanting this moment to last forever.

Danny Ricciardo

the smirk: he can see it taunting him even from a few feet away, in the neon pink glow of the club. you were teasing him, challenging him after a casual remark about how you had no game. the glances you send up at the second level where he hung by the railing shoots sparks of green fury in him. he should have known better; you were nothing if not confident and it was evident in the guy you had been grinding against for the past 15 minutes. he hated everything about this, his skin felt like it was on literal fire, and he had half a mind to go down to the floor to drag you away. perhaps Max had a point, maybe he needed to face the reality that he had feelings for you.

George Russell

the warm smile: miles away from your hometown, new cities every week, away from everything and everyone he'd ever known, you were his anchor. your presence grounded him when it felt like the world was spiralling away and he had absolutely no control over anything. he waited as you spoke to a member of the team, the warm smile on your face taking the tension out of the new girl. it was the same smile you brought to restaurants and parties, making the people around feel at home. it was the same smile you gave him in his moments of uncertainty. you bounded over happily, saying something about the same school, with the new girl trailing behind and as he smiled at his colleague, something in his brain told him that things may change and ebb away but your smile could never.

Lando Norris

the proud smile: his whole life, he’s been working to be the best – to stand on the topmost step of the podium and hold that trophy up, to have people acknowledge him as a great driver, the best in the world. and he’s one step closer, the first race win of his career, a step towards greater things. he could feel the elation emitting from his entire team, but the pats on his back and cheers from his team couldn’t compare with that beam on your face. even all the way up on the podium, the only thing he was focused on was your face and how it resembled a mother hen looking on her chick. he pumps the trophy higher, the sense of pride bursting in his chest and all he could think about was how he was going to be a better driver, a better man, for you.

Lewis Hamilton

the comforting smile: it was the slightest tilt of your lips, the light from his nightstand outlining the soft frame of your body. the smile in your voice was easy to detect even as he laid his head on your tummy, exhausted from a long day of endless meetings and emails. sometimes, he wonders why he works so hard. his life has already amounted to so much and he had accumulated enough life experience to know the most important thing was family and his sweetheart. and then its nights like this, when the world beyond your sanctuary is dead asleep and everything fades away, leaving only what mattered: the gentle vibration under his head and your sweet lullaby and smile telling him nothing was more important than this moment right now.

Max Verstappen

the smiling eyes: the Internet had never been a nice place to him. sneers and belittling comments deterring him from ever going on there if he had a choice. but as a 3-time World Champion, his social media obligations were more important than before. when you two started dating, he wanted to keep it private. everything bad in the world, in his opinion, had no chance of ever hurting you as long as he was around. which is also why he never brought you to races. the fewer the interactions between you, the less there was for the media to scrutinize. but it was moments like this, as the camera pans to you in the garage. your face is hidden but your eyes are bright and admiring him in his element, your name broadcasted with his beneath, told to whoever was watching, that he bookmarks the image in his mind.

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itsvelyria · 3 months

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"types of date the f1 drivers would love"

Charles Leclerc

Exercise Dates: Charles has a newfound love for workouts, he realises as he watches you expertly straighten your arms — the ones currently holding onto the weight bar like a pro. You had convinced him to join you in a morning yoga class, claiming it did wonders for mental health. Like the stupid in-love fool he is, he had agreed, on the condition that you would join him in a gym session. In his head, you were completely taken by his impressive show of strength in a new environment. That was not the case. And to make matters worse, the bicep curls you two had did earlier had resulted in a little, minor, unnoticeable tingle in the back of his spine that sent blood rushing to the bottom half of his body.

Carlos Sainz

Nature Dates: Mountains were for hiking and running and the occasional stargazing session when he was in the mood for it. What he was unaware of, was their ability to host camping sessions. But you did. And you had asked him with unmistakable joy in your twinkling eyes. So now here he was, sitting on a camping chair that you had set up. In fact, everything was set up by you — the chairs, tent, fire. You had even brought metal sticks specifically for roasting marshmallows, which was what the pair of you were doing now. He watched as you purposefully burned your marshmallow, fanning out the flames that had engulfed the treat. It was quiet in the background and unlike in the city, he found himself fully focused on you.

Daniel Ricciardo

Driving Dates: He thought you were mad when you brought up a road trip. But he went along, thinking that a little road trip through Australia couldn’t be that extreme. He was so wrong. First, because it wasn’t through Australia and second, because he had forgotten you were the one planning. So now here he was, listening to your off-tune rendition of Coast by Hailee Steinfeld as he drives through what he is 60% sure is Wanaka in bloody New Zealand. The weather could not be more perfect, with amber coloured leaves decorating the trees and ground and the morning sun still shining through the mountains. You offer a chip to him, holding the delicate thing out between your fingers. He takes it without a second thought. In his opinion, being with you made the best dates.

George Russell

Educational Experiences: It was supposed to be a public conference about dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum. And you had plans to go alone, take some time to yourself, enjoy the strange bout of nice weather London has been bestowed. George was the one who had invited himself and waited by the door. And how were you to say no, while the man was dressed like an academic, even going the extra mile of wearing glasses. So you spent a quiet, calming few hours listening intently to a few speakers then touring the museum with your hand tucked into his. It was a nice feeling, sharing your intellectual interests with him and having him actually pay attention unlike some other ex-boyfriends you've had. Maybe you would invite him on a few more dates like these from now on.

Lando Norris

Adventurous Outings: He had brought you because it was what he did as a child and you two were on a trip to visit his parents and hometown so it only made sense. Then he saw you having the time of your life, racing down straights and winding round corners. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair matted but you had clutched to his arms and asked if you could do another round. Now, it was his personal mission to bring you go-karting in as many tracks as possible. It also helps that he actually (secretly) likes losing to you, because you spend the rest of the day with the biggest grin on your face and nothing beats seeing you like that. He also likes the little kisses you give to comfort his "bruised ego", but he will deny it till the world ends.

Lewis Hamilton

Group Socializing: He loved this. He thinks he can die happy like this. Okay, maybe not. But this would definitely be one of the scenes that would flit through his mind while he was dying. The immense rush of serotonin that fills his brains and muscles when he sees you fluttering around the room should be studied. His eyes never leave your form, clad in a simple cream dress, the perfect contrast to the glow of your skin. You pour bubbly champagne for his friends and have little interactions with the kids scattered around the room which sends them giggling. The adults are enthralled by you too, countless eyes lingering on your form as you leave their small groups. He can’t blame them – being the most shameless one ever. But even so, he’s the only one who can wrap his arms around your tiny waist, pulling you into his chest, the beam on your lips the brightest thing he’s seen all day.

Max Verstappen

Romantic Retreats: Being away from his simulator for this long felt a little weird. He acknowledged the tingly feeling in the back of his spine every morning when he woke up in the largest bed he had ever seen, looking out onto the turquoise ocean. The sea breeze that greeted him this morning was cool, and his robe hung alone beside the bathroom door. The other was wrapped around the figure gazing out onto said sea out on the exposed balcony. Someone has been by the private island with breakfast, he notes, smelling the spread of breakfast foods from the adjoining dining room. He would join you soon, thick white robe around his shoulders and you between his arms, but until then, he lets the tingly feeling settle and just enjoys the view.

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itsvelyria · 3 months

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"as sad taylor swift songs"

vvv vague references to depression for danny

(not really a representation of the songs as a whole but rather how i interpret each phrase i cherry picked)

Charles Leclerc

and say the one thing, i've been wanting, but no~ 🩵

your phone lights up the dark of your room, you should be asleep at this time of the night. there hadn't been any new messages since Tuesday but here you sat, scrolling aimlessly on social media, waiting by the chat like you were 13 again with your first crush. the squeal of glee and the uncontrollable smile on your face when they would text back — that's how he made you feel. and though the little voice in your head is telling you that everything was wrong, there was no way you would debase your feelings to refute the way your brain was wired to think of him at all times. but as you were flicking through gossip sites, the back of a head that haunted your dreams and nightmares was staring right back at, pressed up against a shorter brunette one — maybe it was time to listen to your brain and not your heart.

Carlos Sainz

tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch~ 🩷

every inch of your skin was on fire, like it was rejecting the touch of the man above you. if you squinted enough, blocked out the light from the living room behind his broad shoulders, you could have mistaken him for a certain Spaniard. except the Spaniard wouldn't have chosen to lay his focus on your neck like this guy you picked up at the club. you couldn't, for the life of your alcohol-riddled brain, recall his name. but you could remember the ghost of a touch down between the valleys of your breasts and that was enough to pry a spine-shivering moan out your throat. maybe if you pretended enough and swallowed the hot tears back, you could pretend he was the person you wanted instead.

Danny Ricciardo

she would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head~ 🧡

he knew it when your frame had started curled in on itself under the covers. how you brushed past the stereo you loved to fiddle with on Saturday mornings. how you told him that you'd rather stay home on days you had plans. he felt this clawing in his insides whenever you barely spared him a glance, like he was the extra on a film set who was just waiting around for something to happen. so he did what he did best. he'd called up your mom to ask for her recipes to cook for nights you were too tired to move and offered to dry your hair whenever you wandered around wet hair. when you were fast asleep, cuddled up in his arms, he hoped you could hear when he told you how much he loved you and how he'd always be here.

George Russell

will you still want me, when i'm nothing new~ ❤️

even with your eyes closed on the red-eye flight, you could picture your colour-coded and meticulously organised calendar in your head. that and the thousands of messages from your mother, disappointment reeking from them at your missing of your nephew's baby shower. he was 1, he'd get over it. amongst the messages was two calls to your boyfriend, both left unanswered. the silence feeling like a prelude to something inevitable. images of him laughing with a colleague, your calls ignored, flashed in your mind. the little seed of self-doubt had planted itself a long time ago and bloomed into a voice in your head, relentlessly questioning your every move, every word. you hated it, but when the fire you started grows uncontrollably and you can't stop it, what could you do but let it consume you whole?

Lando Norris

no one could touch the way we laughed in the dark~ 💛

it was like a bad smell you couldn't ignore, the second you stepped onto the hiking path. you refused to come but was convinced otherwise by your group of friends. and with each crunch of the wet leaves under your boot or the distant sound of rushing water, you saw faint wisps of smoke in the shape of someone drawn from your ancient memories, holding your hand and leading you up the slope. hallucinations of a familiar laugh clouded your mind with the hike passing like a daze. the waterfall was still as beautiful as you remembered with the tree where he had secretly carved both your initials just a few steps away. your boyfriend pulled you closer, breaking your trance. his grin radiating at you, you felt the old memories slip away back into the shadows, cupping the chin of your new love.

Lewis Hamilton

you gave me all your love and all i gave you was goodbye~ 💜

sometimes when he glanced at old pictures, the indifference in his chest made him feel like he had moved on. and it should. with every second that slipped out of his grasp, the pain in his heart had dulled and he was busy enough without having to schedule mourning into his calendar. but the glare of his phone burned the picture into his retinas while he was waiting for his next race to begin, he missed the pang in his chest when you first ended the relationship. it was almost like he was losing every shred of you and the ugly feeling in his head raged on. and the next moment, he would turn the phone off, throwing it across his room to bury his head in his palms, the anger redirecting on the pathetic little boy inside him. he should have moved on by now, he knows he should have, but as he glanced at all the faces in the stands, part of him wishes one of them was you.

Max Verstappen

then you won't have to cry, or hide in the closet~ 🩶

you can see it in the darkening of his eyes when he answered his calls. or how his lips pulled taunt after a bad race. he had mentioned some things in passing: details of his childhood glossed over like it was nothing more than a dusty spine of a long-forgotten book. coupled with stories from his family, you had pieced together enough of the puzzle he kept his past. and that tugging in your heart wasn't pity; you could never pity him. but you weren't sure what it was either. and so you kept it quiet, tucking it away in a box, focused on the one thing that did matter — his present. maybe one day, you'll take the box out and rifle through its contents with your lover, but for now, just seeing him hold that trophy was more than enough.

#f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #formula 1 fluff #charles leclerc fluff #carlos sainz fluff #daniel ricciardo fluff #george russell fluff #lando norris fluff #lewis hamilton fluff #max verstappen fluff

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itsvelyria · 3 months

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"where they would like to kiss you"

Charles Leclerc

he was taken by the nape of your neck the first time you had swept your hair up into a bun. the expanse of skin was dotted with moles that felt like a black holes drawing him in. that was your first date. and he was man enough to admit he was completely besotted with it, fingertips dusting across the span of skin whenever he was near you. he recalls the one time you said that his touch sent shivers down your spine. so he had taken the bold leap of dropping a kiss there next, sending you reeling in surprise. he had made it his personal mission to ingrain that action in your mind after, and the look you send him afterwards was just an added bonus.

Carlos Sainz

it was the classic kiss, the one that transcended time and age - a peck on the cheek. it was the place he could kiss you on at any time, any location and it didn't help that such a simple gesture would send your cheeks flushing, shy at the display of affection from him. it cemented as his favourite spot before a particular race that he couldn't even remember, where he had casually strolled towards you, tugging the balaclava down over his lips and stealing a easy kiss from you. the blood had rushed to your face before you pushed him away and turned away from the camera in embarrassment. you never stood by the barriers again.

Danny Ricciardo

it wouldn't even be a spot he liked to kiss, it was more accurate to describe it as the place he liked to tease you. danny loved pulling the skin of your earlobes between his teeth, lightly tugging at it. and you were equally freaky, laughing whenever he did it. you had grown used to him playing at your ears now that you had grown especially sensitive to it, your grip on his bicep or shoulder tightening whenever you felt his breath dust across the thin layer of skin there.

George Russell

he was a tall man and there was always a height difference between him and his partners. you, however, were particularly short. he often joked about how his back would start aching from bending down to hear you speak before he even reached the age of 30. you would playfully smack his stomach and his mischievious nature would kid that that was the highest part of him you could reach - it was an ongoing joke. but one thing he loved about your height was that his lips was at the perfect height to land a peck on your forehead, and so he found every opportunity to do so. he loved how he could wrap his arms around your shoulder, tugging you that much closer to him.

Lando Norris

he did it as a joke once, landing a kiss on your fingertips in the middle of an argument getting out of hand. your finger was pointing to something he couldn't remember and he had snatched your arm. you were stunned for a second, till he did it again and you had promptly dissolved into laughter at the silliness of your boyfriend. since then, he had used it for all sorts of things, all ending in your strong emotions dissipating and your now-calm form melting in his arms.

Lewis Hamilton

your relationship was far from a fairytale, the media and public eye causing endless problems for you both. but despite this, lewis has always thought of you as someone to adore and respect, which is why his preferred way to show affection was through a kiss on your hand. when your hand was tangled in his, walking down the streets of somewhere, was when he was reminded of how lucky he was to have your path in life intertwine with his, that he could hold you with him wherever he went. the man would then lift your joined hands to his mouth where he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, whispering that he loved you so so much.

Max Verstappen

you often teased him for nuzzling your neck one too many times, likening him to a cat, to which he would chuckle and pull you close to do the very action you were using as material. what you didn't realise, was that he actually loved your jaw. it was midway between your lips and neck, making it an intimate location but at the same time, it was the most subtle conveying of your connection. it didn't seem to earn groans from the people around and after all, who else other than two people, head over heels for each other, would place a kiss on the jaw?

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itsvelyria · 3 months

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"little things they do for their s/o"

Charles Leclerc

he was raised a gentleman, taught to treat ladies with the utmost care and respect. but as much as it was part of his nature, he liked opening doors for you. perhaps it was the tiny smile that you would give him as you passed or simply because it gave him joy to have helped you in some way. whether it was cars, restaurants or hotels, he always made sure to take that two quick steps to the door, pulling the handle and turning to you with that cheeky grin and wink. the flush that dusted your cheeks with their matching giggle always making his day.

Carlos Sainz

he didn't think too much of it, taking your purchases from you when you two were out shopping one day. it had felt so natural, one of your hands laced with him while the other carried your stuff. then it was a november night when you were stumbling back home after a late night when you had taken off your shoes, whining about blisters. he had leaned down, long fingers reaching for the heels while the others came to circle your waist, stabilising you. you had shot him a grateful smile and he replied with one of his.

Danny Ricciardo

whether he was on a plane, or in a garage somewhere on the other side of the world, your boyfriend always *always* sent you a reminder to drink water. it was sweet, the way your phone would light up at random times of the day with a message from your lover telling you to hydrate. and it was never pushy, the way it felt when your mother did, though that could just be because of the person. even during calls at 2am because he had just gotten out of his debrief session, the man never failed to show concern for your health.

George Russell

in his defence, you were always cold and always sneezing in his car. when he'd picked you up for your first date, you had been shivering by the time you two had gotten to the restaurant. picking up the car from the valet after, he'd turned up the heat, noticing how your shoulders had loosened. ever since then, he had started paying slightly more attention to the weather and adjusting the temperature in the car accordingly. it was a little thing, but it made him smile whenever you would slide into the passenger seat and feel that much more comfortable.

Lando Norris

you had just chalked it up to the way of life, hair ties were meant to go missing. until one day. when you were watching a video of your boyfriend and noticed a familiar blue elastic around his wrist. still, you had assumed it was another of his bracelets. then came a particularly hot day in Austin, you were lying on his makeshift bed, wondering if this was how hell felt like. your boyfriend had walked in, taken one glance at you and offered you a hair tie. the brown band staring you in the face had a little smiley face charm and something clicked in your head. now, you had your very own hair tie dispenser in the form of a very thoughtful man.

Lewis Hamilton

the man knew he was doing it. you were considerably shorter than he was and he respected that you had a smaller gait than him. but this also meant that in order to be able to hold your hand, he had to slow down and match your pace, which wasn't such a bad trade-off. in fact he quite enjoyed it, even if it was through the sea of cameras pointed right at him and fans waiting for him to sign merchandise in the paddocks. it was poetic in a sense he supposed, the way you made life seem to slow down so that he could truly take the time to appreciate it.

Max Verstappen

your boyfriend had a miracle brain, something that should be studied by scientists and academics worldwide. how else could one explain how he manages to know where every single one of your possessions were at all times? what you didn't see, was that he spends a lot of time watching you. his eyes couldn't drag themselves away from you the second you entered a room, tossing your AirPods or keys on the bookshelf or nightstand. quietly, he'll note the location, loving it when you would shout across the house asking where your phone was and he'll be able to tell you it was in the bathroom. the reward of your lips on his cheek wasn't bad either.

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itsvelyria · 4 months

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"sleepless nights w the f1 boys"

Charles Leclerc

his fingertips, rough and dry, are warm as they sketch circles into the back of your hands. you're uncertain of whether he's even aware of it — gaze lingers on your lover, distracted by his gentle charting of constellations in the midnight sky. his voice, a steady murmur, narrates the story of cygnus' lost love and delphinus' persuasion. the chilled air is held at bay as you remain nestled at his side. soon the night softens, inky blue yielding to pinks and oranges as you trade dreams and stories, your heart filling as fatigue settles into your bones.

Carlos Sainz

late-night drives through deserted city streets unfold like a poetic journey. the hum of the engine blends seamlessly with the laughter that fills the car. childhood stories are shared, echoing through the serene space beyond. with each turn, memories are etched into the fabric of the night, becoming invisible threads that linger in the quiet hours that follow. carlos’ handprint on your upper thigh tingles long after parking, sending sparks up your spine as you two head back up to your shared bed.

Danny Ricciardo

the moonlight casts a soft, clandestine glow, accentuated by the fairy light someone had left hanging. rusty bulbs flicker as danny pulls you up by the hands, the out-of-bounds rooftop transforming into an impromptu private dance floor. below, the city is sleepless and alive with its pulsating energy, serving as your silent witness. the faint notes of your paramour’s cologne, a blend of skin and soap, envelops your waltz as you rest your heavy head against his chest. he hums an all-too-familiar melody and in this suspended moment, time seemed to stretch.

George Russell

on cozy nights in, you both find yourselves entwined in a nest of blankets, a sanctuary of warmth. the orange glow from your nightstand delicately paints the walls, creating a cocoon that shields you from the chill outside. amidst the quietude, secrets and dreams are exchanged like cherished treasures. a small flame is kindled in the tranquil space you've carved out for each other — a haven where the moments hover, suspended in the the warmth of your shared breaths, as sleepless nights turn into timeless memories.

Lando Norris

in the realm of virtual gaming marathons, the hours extend into early mornings, a landscape illuminated by the lights of your screen. shouts of triumph and screams of anguish punctuate the air, interweaving with playful banter that colours the room. oceans away from the love of your life, his laughter still resonates through your headphones as he achieves a triple-kill. you cherish every digital heart he sends through your private chat, a reminder of the connection you share despite the physical distance.

Lewis Hamilton

in the tranquillity of midnight, a serene park becomes your canvas for shared introspection. the world transforms into a tapestry of silver and shadows as you two embark on a quiet stroll, hands entwined. conversations unfurl like the delicate petals of snow-white lilies, their fragility mirrored in the hushed murmurs. the night air carries whispers of dreams and aspirations that mingle with the rustle of leaves underfoot. in the hallowed stillness, your footsteps fall into cadence on the gravel path, heartbeats synchronizing like a ballet telling the story of forging connections.

Max Verstappen

beneath the vast expanse of twinkling stars, you both pitch your tents on damp grass. the crackle of a campfire and the rustle of pine trees create the soundtrack to this new chapter in your relationship. flickering flames cast dancing shadows on max’s face as he concentrates on roasting marshmallows. the stars above interrupt every shared gaze and every brush of your hands. the magic sparkling in the inches between your frames settles deep into your bones, destined to be a memory never forgotten.

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itsvelyria · 4 months

Text

"as sad taylor swift songs"

vvv vague references to depression for danny

(not really a representation of the songs as a whole but rather how i interpret each phrase i cherry picked)

Charles Leclerc

and say the one thing, i've been wanting, but no~ 🩵

Carlos Sainz

tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch~ 🩷

Danny Ricciardo

she would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head~ 🧡

George Russell

will you still want me, when i'm nothing new~ ❤️

Lando Norris

no one could touch the way we laughed in the dark~ 💛

Lewis Hamilton

you gave me all your love and all i gave you was goodbye~ 💜

Max Verstappen

then you won't have to cry, or hide in the closet~ 🩶

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itsvelyria · 4 months

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"new years eve with the boys"

Charles Leclerc

the festive chaos envelops the Leclerc home, everyone having gathered to watch the countdown. bubbles of champagne dissolves in your mouth as you giggle over shared jokes with a friend. hollers of "10, 9, 8"s shocks you, whirling to watch the numbers flash a touch too brightly on the TV screen. "7, 6, 5," has you craning your head over the exhilarated crowd, struggling to find charles. you wonder if he's somewhere outside as someone shouts "4, 3" right into your eardrum. now you're half sure you're deaf as the tipsy mess screams the final numbers. a muscular arm finds its way around your waist, twirling you round to meet the eyes of your much-missed boyfriend. "happy new year," he whispers along with the rest of your loved ones, soft lips meeting yours to celebrate a new beginning with your love.

Carlos Sainz

carlos steps onto the red carpet, polished loafers gleaming black against the textured fabric. his hair is coiffed and a watch that costs a little too much on his wrist. but all that pales in comparison to the jewel on his arm. an air of sophistication surrounds you two as you attend a glamorous new year's eve gala for ferrari. the elegant event has celebrities you had only seen through screens milling around, dressed in stylish attires. your partner turn heads with his charismatic presence, grinning at cameras with his boyish smile. in the buzz of lively conversations and artistically plated food, you clink glasses with people whose names go right over your head. when dawn breaks, all you can recall is carlos' voice calling you his and all you can care about is the expanse of warm golden skin beneath your head.

Danny Ricciardo

the dark colour of the ocean should scare you but all attention is drawn to the huge bonfire in the centre of the sandy shores — the heart of danny's new year's eve celebration. the beach is a turquoise canvas that has been painted with shades of relaxation, with the rhythmic sound of waves and the crackling fire creating a carefree atmosphere. friends and acquaintances huddle together in groups, boisterous laughter intertwining with the music that echoes along the shoreline. you perch on a washed-up piece of driftwood nursing a beer, watching the bonfire flames dance against the night sky, casting playful shadows on daniel’s face as he goofs around with his friends. cheers sound against the crashing waves as a chugging competition begins, your boyfriend at the heart of the chaos. and even in the midst of it all, he manages to pull his gaze away to search for yours, a bright smile crossing his face when he notices your attention already on him, waving you over.

George Russell

in a last-minute attempt to avoid the holiday craze in London, you and george decide escape to the secluded beaches of Koh Samui, far away from the adrenaline that seems to pump through everyone’s veins during this period. on the serene beaches, far from the public eye, you send off a selfie you two took lying yesterday with the stunning fireworks. a reply shoots back quickly from your mother, a thumbs up and heart. putting the phone aside, your attention turns to your boyfriend who is fast asleep beside you on a hotel towel, having fully embraced the peaceful surroundings. burning the image of your boyfriend in a state of tranquility, you decide you quite like him here, not needing to share him with the rest of the world and all for you.

Lando Norris

in the heart of new york, the city that never sleeps, someone had done a fantastic job turning their apartment in a haven for celebration. the floor length windows was recently polished in preparation for viewing of the ball drop and fireworks. the cityscape was stunning, the lights in almost all the building windows – everyone awake to ring in the new year with their loved ones. a familiar hand proffers a beer at you and you take it gratefully. the heavy arm slings over your shoulders, a familiar weight, and pulls you closer to its owner. lando presses a long kiss to the side of your head, silent words telling you he had missed you in the few minutes away. and in the countdown that would come soon, he would cup your face in his cold hands, ignoring the shivers that ran down your spine, and kiss you with an intensity that seemed to grow with every exchange.

Lewis Hamilton

lewis, in classic hard-working fashion, has orchestrated an exclusive charity gala, the festive spirit of the date infused with purpose. the sophisticated venue had been adorned in blues and greens, with the flair of a charitable celebration. influential figures and friends gather, floor length gowns and full suits bringing an air of sophistication. as his partner, you find yourself at the main table, beaming as he takes the stage, not only as a host but as a force for change, raising funds for a cause dear to his heart. if being with lewis has taught you anything, it was that your support and presence meant more to him than any present you could gift. and you have grown to love the man and all his ambitions and dreams. but if you find yourself in the backseat of a car later, being thanked by a barrage of kisses, it would be your little bonus.

Max Verstappen

max opts for a quiet night in, a private new year’s celebration with just the two of you. he had spent the day setting up the apartment, delicately strung fairy lights on windows and a lit scented candle he had found somewhere near the TV. the flickering candlelight on the dining table between two intimate place settings giving rise to an house of warmth and mellowness. as the clock ticks toward midnight, max holds you close, his deep breathing music to your ears, unknowing of how it feels like a drug on you. the cloying scent of vanilla marks the moment and the calming joy of the evening is found in the simplicity of shared memories, tender smiles, and the promise of a new year together.

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itsvelyria · 4 months

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"christmas w the f1 boys"

Charles Leclerc

charles is a mess: he realises this as he resorts to simply bunching up the plaid wrapping paper over the Puma box that is meant for his brother. there is something on his chin, he thinks, but he’s too busy twirling the roll of tape around the lopsided present. beside him, you’re having the time of your life, folding obedient coloured paper with the precision and accuracy only found at gift wrapping stations. your stack of neatly wrapped presents sits prettily in contrast to his less neat ones – your tree looking more like a joke by the second. the velvet crimson ribbon is tied into a little bow by your expert fingers, and you set it aside, another point for you. gazes meet and yours falls onto the mess in his hands and promptly burst into a fit of giggles, at which he shoots you a pout. still giggling, you lean over, peeling the double-sided tape from his jaw, mumbling that it’s a good thing there’s something he’s bad at.

Carlos Sainz

mutters of how it’s such a waste of electricity to power up so many lights just for a holiday can be heard under your breath and he fights the urge to laugh. you’ve been repeating that spiel for as long as he can remember and the refreshing bout that hits him every time hasn’t died. still, the fact that you’re in his hometown with him, having been successfully convinced by him to go out on a little adventure to admire the christmas decorations. he pulls you in closer by the shoulder, your rant having ended with a tiny huff, and relishes in the warmth of your slender arm resting against his back. the urge to call your name, have that scowl on your face turn towards him so he can kiss it right off is irresistible. and so, fuelled by the saccharine smell of vanilla in the air, he does exactly that.

Danny Ricciardo

your boyfriend didn't need much convincing when you mentioned the Christmas decorations should go up. and thus, he was tasked with setting up the tree, brandishing his biceps with a flourish. now though, you’re standing by the boxes of ornaments you had dug out of the storage room while he wrestles with the middle tier of the plastic tree – your help having been rejected. it is with great struggle on his part, and great pain on yours, that the three tiers are all successfully stacked onto each other. the inevitable bickering begins, as you tease him about his lack of artistic direction while he jokes about your inability to reach the higher branches. even with no consensus being reached, the tree is adequately covered in tinsel and glittery ornaments. finally, danny insists on lifting you by his shoulder to place the finishing touch: the star.

George Russell

the holidays in england are top-tier and the ultimate winner of all things that bring happiness to his life — do not even try to fight him on that. the prelude of snow in the air coupled with the smell of chocolatey malt fuels him when there is no post-race adrenaline rush to do so. the market is set up with various tiny stalls selling hot beverages and homemade trinkets, the bustle of the crowd melting together with joy in his chest. he takes in the cheer that seems to make spirits a smidge higher and polite grins a little more sincere, watching you dash from stall to stall, cooing over every cute thing your eyes land on. maybe he was wrong, perhaps the greatest joy is being able to tangle his fingers with your fingers, tucking them safely into his pocket while sipping a hot chocolate.

Lando Norris

when you were apartment shopping, you had accounted for your respective large families and ever-growing social circle. butthe current state of your living room begs to differ. loud voices competing to be heard over the others was the music of choice as your sister screams accusations at your boyfriend while he has his best friend in a headlock. there’s half-empty wine glasses and nacho crumbs strewn everywhere. you’re pretty sure the sodas were spiked but your current hand is way too trash, so you fold. cursing your dealer, your uncle, you peer around the room. there is a monopoly game in the corner that looks like a full-out war, and you can spy your aunts, far too drunk on the good wine to care, so you’re halfway out of your chair to intervene but lando beats you to it. he says something that has the kids giggling and the teenagers rolling their eyes, calming the frazzled nerves instantly. glancing around, he catches your eye and shoots you a grin, and for a second, you feel your heart skip a beat. he follows up with a wink, making his way over to you where he proceeds to drape his large frame over yours. his arms hang over your shoulders, chin propped up on yours as he peers at your cards.

Lewis Hamilton

the shiver down his spine shocks him. your feet are basically icicles, he has said time and time again. but lewis remains still even as you shove your feet under the shared blanket, pressing them up against his in a desperate attempt to gain some warmth. his eyes dart up from the words on his book, landing on your furrowed brows engrossed in your own pages. the carefully curated playlist of holiday music and comforting scent of cinnamon and pine burning from the scented candle someone had gifted the year previous soothes his mind. roscoe is peacefully snoring away in the corner. putting aside your literal cold feet, he finds his attention turned back to the book, humming along gently. your full-on belting scares him and the book in his hands falls to the ground with a thud. he can’t hide the fond twinkle in his eyes even as he shoots you a glance. your apologetic shrug is nonchalant, and he finds himself mirroring your grin, joining in the annihilation of the song. it dissolves into shared laughter as the combined voices wakes roscoe, who sends you two the most displeased look a dog can make.

Max Verstappen

in hindsight, he should have listened to you. but the fact remains that he did not, and so he can only watch on enviously as you sip your coffee. you did warn him of the bustling aisles in the packed mall and asked if he needed caffeine to get him through. but then again you did reprimand his excessive consumption of a particular energy drink last night so the thought that it was a trap crossed his mind and lead to his rejection. he wonders if you would let him take a tiny sip as you drag him into the next store, arms sore from carrying a few too many shopping bags. you hold up the race cars from the boys’ section of the toy store, eyes narrowed to evaluate the brightly coloured plastic, trying to determine if they were good enough for his nephews. his heart swells a little at the sight of you trying to pick out the perfect gift for his family, but his focus lied mainly on your coffee, which was left unattended. and with zero hesitation, he swipes the drink, taking a large gulp to make up for the stress he had undergone for the past two hours. your dirty look is met with a twinkle in his eyes as he drops a kiss on your cheek as an apology.

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itsvelyria · 4 months

Text

"how the f1 boys are when you work from home"

Charles Leclerc

he'll be pouting by your door the minute you start your work day. the reason for him being particularly clingy is because he doesn't get a lot of time with you already, due to his busy schedule. but now you're right in front of him yet he can't bother you? will puppy-dog-eye his way into keeping your door open so he can peek in occasionally to catch a glimpse of you at least. sometimes he says he's going out to run some errands because he's, after all, an independent adult who can spend a day by himself, but always comes back within an hour because he missed you too much to leave you alone.

Carlos Sainz

the sweetest, most considerate guy on Earth; he makes sure you have your breakfast before your work day, keeps his volume down when you're on a call and always has lunch ready when noon comes around. he will come to drag you out to have lunch with him at the kitchen counter even if you tell him you're too busy to take a break. when you are well-fed and back behind the table, he always pays the coffee shop around the corner a visit to bring you your favourite drink. both because he knows you're fighting a food coma and also to make you take a break.

Danny Ricciardo

your #1 supporter. when he learned you'll start having work from home days, he helped decorate your home office. he spent days reading up on ergonomic chairs and standing desks, even researching plants to brighten up the space. he is huge on work-life balance and always shows up at your door at 5 on the dot to drag you away from your laptop, to the gym or to a new restaurant you had mentioned in passing.

George Russell

by nature a very chill and relaxed guy, he leaves you alone for the most part to do his own thing. he's very extroverted though, so when he appears in the background of your video calls, he'll always says hi to to your colleagues or boss. one time you were on a call with a close colleague and he was putting away some books at the bookshelf behind you, chatted her up about her dog and ended up exchanging social medias, becoming your unexpected networking catalyst. it always brightens up your day because it shows how much he cares for the people in your life.

Lando Norris

he would constantly pop in to see you "needed anything" but honestly he just misses you and wants your attention, even if you're under the same roof. when you banned him from your office, he started sending TikToks and memes from the next room over, threatening to derail your focus but always making you giggle. the kind of partner who would hide Post-Its with funny scribbles and doodles among your work documents and wait for you to find them. when you ask him if he wants to get lunch together, the glee on his face is blinding and he shoots up like a little puppy.

Lewis Hamilton

probably the most mature partner on the grid; he likes the intimacy of quietly working together in a shared space. there's just something about soft classical music in the background while you two are working on your respective projects. the highlight of your day is when you take short breaks together in the kitchen over mugs of coffee — telling him of whatever office gossip you had come across while he rambles on about his upcoming campaign.

Max Verstappen

he is very understanding of how important your career and job is to you. while you work, he'll probably be on his simulator in the living room, making sure he keeps the doors closed so he doesn't disturb you. after a long day of you in your office and him of racing, you two like to have a quiet dinner on the couch with a movie playing. he lets you lie on his lap afterwards, stroking your hair gently as you rant about your workday.

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