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blackswaneuroparedux · 9 months

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On track he was always the toughest of tough competitors, tough sometimes to the point at which I’d wonder how could such a nice bloke out of a car grow such horns and a tail inside one,

Stirling Moss on Jack Brabham

Sir Jack Brabham's three world championships ( 1959, 1960, 1966) were the product of both his engineering expertise and driving skill. His first two titles, in rear-engined Coopers he helped develop, confirmed the obsolescence of front-engined Formula One cars. His third title, in a Brabham, made him the only driver to become champion in a car of his own make. His last win came at the 1970 South African Grand Prix, after which, aged 44 and with 126 races behind him, the triple champion retired to Australia. His now-defunct team was sold to future Formula One supremo Bernie Ecclestone while Ron Dennis, Brabham’s erstwhile chief mechanic, went on to transform McLaren.

At 18 he joined the Royal Australian Air Force in Adelaide, where he wanted to learn to fly but was instead trained to fill a wartime shortage of flight mechanics. Upon his discharge, in 1946, an uncle in the construction business built him a workshop in Sydney, where Jack opened his own engineering establishment.

Jack's introduction to motorsport came through a friend who raced midgets on dirt track ovals in 1951. Jack helped him build a new car and when his friend decided to stop driving Jack took over and became a regular winner. In self-prepared midgets he won four successive Australian championships and was the 1953 hillclimb champion in a British-built Cooper-Bristol. Two years later his growing ambition to expand his motorsport horizons brought Jack to England. A meeting with John and Charles Cooper, constructors of his successful Australian car, led to a friendship and partnership that would propel the tiny Cooper Car Company and 'Black Jack' Brabham into the forefront of Formula One history.

With Brabham providing the inspiration (he helped persuade the Coopers to take the rear-engine route into Formula One racing) and the perspiration (he built up his first chassis in Cooper's workshop) the tiny British cars with the engines in the back sped to the front in an era previously dominated by big, front-engined Italian and German roadsters.

In the Brabham-led team's first full championship season of 1958 the debut win for a Cooper came courtesy of Stirling Moss, who drove Rob Walker's private entry to victory in Argentina.

In 1959 Moss won twice, but Brabham's victories in Monaco and Britain together with his consistently high placings resulted in the Australian winning a drivers’ title that some thought owed more to stealth than skill, an opinion at least partly based on Brabham's low-key presence.

As much an engineer as a racing driver, with wartime experience working as ground crew in the Royal Australian Air Force, Brabham was never one to hog the limelight or seek attention. Always a man of few words - his nickname 'Black Jack' referred to both his dark hair and his propensity for maintaining a shadowy silence - he avoided small talk and was undemonstrative in the extreme.

Brabham may not have been a big talker or particularly flamboyant but he was as shrewd as they come. Behind the wheel he was anything but shy and retiring. He put his head down and drove exceedingly forcefully, opposite-locking his car dirt-track style, and was not averse to deliberately showering gravel in the face of a too closely following pursuer. His aversion for the limelight became more of a problem in 1960, when he completely dominated the nine-race series, winning consecutively in Holland, Belgium, France, Britain and Portugal, en route to his second successive championship.

Following an unproductive 1961 season, when the Ferraris were all powerful, Brabham left Cooper to form Motor Racing Developments, in partnership with the talented Australian designer Ron Tauranac. The MRD Brabhams were quickly successful in several categories of racing, particularly Formula Two where for several years they dominated, affording the opportunity for many drivers to advance their careers. The Brabham Formula One car, which first appeared late in 1962, became steadily more competitive as the team leader personally perfected the chassis set-up and fine-tuned the Climax engines. In 1964 Brabham had the satisfaction of seeing his team mate Dan Gurney win in France and Mexico.

For 1966, when the new 3-litre formula came into effect, Brabham persuaded an Australian company Repco (a manufacturer of automotive components) to produce a Formula One engine from a venerable Oldsmobile V8 design. Equally ancient was Brabham himself, or so it seemed to the media and his much younger rivals who used to kid him about his age. Prior to the 1966 Dutch Grand Prix, his first race after his 40th birthday, 'Geriatric Jack' Brabham hobbled onto the starting grid at Zandvoort, wearing a long false beard and leaning on a cane. Sportingly, several of his laughing opponents helped him into the cockpit of his Brabham-Repco, which happened to be on pole position.

Tossing aside his beard and cane Brabham proceeded to win that race, a feat he also accomplished in France, in Britain and in Germany - on the notoriously difficult and dangerous Nurburgring - a victory he felt was the most satisfying of his career. Thus in 1966 Brabham became the first (and still only) driver, to win the championship in a car of his own make.

Jack Brabham, whose final victory came in the 1970 South African Grand Prix when he was 44, chose that season to retire as a driver. The Brabham team was sold to Bernie Ecclestone and Jack returned home to Australia, where he busied himself running a farm, a car dealership and an aviation company, and helped his sons with their racing careers. His contribution to British motorsport was officially recognised in 1985 and he became Sir Jack Brabham. He passed away peacefully at his home in May 2014, aged 88.

Photo above: Françoise Hardy (Singer), Jack Brabham and the Brabham BT19, Monza, 1966.

#stiling moss #quote #jack brabham #brabham #formula one #F1 racing #grand prix #australian #racing driver #racing car #design #motorsports #cooper #speed #adrenaline rush #francoise hardy #icon

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techdriveplay · 2 months

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Chery Tiggo 7 Pro Ultimate - TDP Review

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ruleof3 · 1 year

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#Knockhill #uk #scotland #fife #markwebber #formulaford #ford #racing #cars #car racing #formula1 #aussie #australian #retro #design #architecture #vintage #film #35mm #HOLDEN #reynard #motorsport

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ryansbedroom · 10 months

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FJ Holden with a refurbished Lightburn Trailer!

#fj #holden #car #sedan #lightburn #trailer #vintage #1950s #50s #design #australia #australian #western australia #wa #restored #automotive #wood #wooden #tray

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shares-a-vest · 22 days

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It’s that time of year again. The Australian football season is in full swing so it’s my designated time to write. But PLOT TWIST! I have found myself, ahem… enjoying watching the sportsballmen sporting. Please keep me in your thoughts during this difficult time (or maybe read this projection onto Eddie).

-🏈🏈🏈-

“But, what about the foo-”

Eddie claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from finishing that sentence. Something he should have never uttered in the first place. A statement that goes against the Munson Doctrine – and everything he ever uttered in gym class.

But it’s too late because Steve has frozen in place, one hand on his car keys still dangling by the hook near the front door, his other hand fisted into his Member’s Only jacket.

Eddie stills, his shoulders tensing up as he watches Steve slowly turn around, leaving his keys hanging and his jacket a-dangling off one arm.

Steve quirks a brow.

“Huh?” he says, feigning confusion as a sly smile tugs at the corner of his pretty mouth.

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. His boyfriend is really going to torture him over this, isn’t he?

“Nothing,” he shrugs and rocks back on his heels.

“I said…” Steve begins as he takes a step forward, “We should go grab dinner…”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie nods, folding his arms now as Steve moves closer – a protective shield that is completely useless when confronted with the flashiest of shit-eating grins.

“But then you said…”

Steve raises his eyebrows expectantly and adds a winding hand gesture that Eddie supposes is meant to get him to admit to the thing he just mighta-sorta said, but not technically finished saying…

“I didn’t say anything,” he blatantly lies, shaking his head so much that he can feel his hair swishing about.

“It sounded like…” Steve teases as his big, strong and utterly irresistible hands come to rest on his shoulders, “You wanted to stay home and watch football.”

He quickly follows up with a gasp and bites his bottom lip just to be an even bigger nightmare and goddamn it! he looks so cute and Eddie wants to see him do that at least three more times as soon as possible.

Eddie sighs. He can feel his lip quivering as Steve looks him up and down, blushing like he has just been let in on the world’s biggest secret.

Something Eddie didn’t know himself until like, two minutes ago.

He scrunches his nose.

“Stevie,” he warns.

Steve holds up his pinky finger.

“Won’t tell a soul,” he giggles, wiggling that stupid, not-so-little finger in total knowing condescension.

Eddie captures the digit in his hand and presses a kiss to the tip of it.

“Let’s…” he spits, holding on for dear life.

“Watch the game?” Steve beams, all giddy and proud.

#sportsball eddie 🏈#just gonna make this a tag in case i write more of this kinda thing as I work through these new feelings lmao #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie munson headcanons

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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Rich Kids Club

Chapter One

Half Monégasque, half English, twenty two year old Y/N L/N leads a rich life style. She has her own horses, her own staff to take care of them, and a father obsessed with Formula One.

With the promise of a new horse, Y/N joins her father at a few of the races. But F1 is hard not to fall in love with. It's hard not to fall in love with the people involved, either.

Charles Leclerc x reader

Lando Norris x reader

??? x reader

1.8K

Guess who's getting an F1 tattoo soon? This gal! Aka, I keep having breakdowns and this is how I'm dealing with it.

The Monaco Grand Prix.

Even though she'd lived in Monaco her entire life, Y/N L/N had never gone to the grand prix. She was always busy on the show jumping circuit, sending her two horses flying over the jumps. But here she was, in a dress designed to look like a shirt with a chunky belt cinching her waist. On her feet she wore chunky, black, heeled boots, making her feel taller than she was.

Competing was in her blood. Her mother had done it before her. She was the whole reason Y/N had so much love for the sport. It was her father who loved watching fast cars go around the track again and again and again.

When he could, Mr L/N tried to get Y/N to go to the grand prix with him. Being the wealthy man that he was, he tried to follow the sport all around the world. Of course that meant leaving his wife and children behind when Y/N was younger.

Now Y/N was older and she had her own horses, she also had her own people to take care of them and exercise them for her. She was finally able to join her father at the grand prix.

Living in Monaco meant that Y/N knew a couple of the drivers. She knew Max and Daniel through her fathers relationship with Christian Horner. She knew Charles and Arthur through her father, as well, although she knew Arthur just that little bit better.

Before racing took over Arthurs life and show jumping took over Y/N's they were friends. They ran in the same social circles in Monaco, going to the same school and partying together.

There were benefits to being friends with Arthur. Not that Y/N was looking for perks when it came to having friends. But Arthur had attractive brothers. Arthur himself was attractive, as was his eldest brother Lorenzo. Attractive, but not what Y/N was looking for.

And then there was Charles. He was... something else. There wasn't often Y/N got to see Charles, only when she was joining her father at the grand prix.

"There she is!" Shouted Daniel as she walked through the paddock. He wasn't driving this year, but he was still present at every race.

The Australian opened his arms wide and pulled Y/N in. He tucked her under his arm and turned to her father. "Mr L/N, always good to see you," he said, holding out his hand.

Mr L/N took Daniels hand and shook it. "You too, Daniel. Will we be seeing you back in a car this year?"

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She'd discussed this with her father before they'd left their house. It was gorgeous, a 107 year old French villa that screamed wealth. Their conversation had been in angry French, probably disturbing the entire neighbourhood.

"Papa, tu ne peux pas poser des questions à Danny sur son siège, d'accord?" She said as they put on their shoes. (Dad, you can't ask Danny about his seat, okay?)

Her father shook his head. "Ne t'inquiète pas, ma chérie. Je ne lui dirai rien. Mais je demanderai peut-être à Christian." (don't worry, sweetheart. I won't mention anything to him. I may ask Christian, though)

"Non, papa. Ne demande pas à Christian. N'en parle pas." (No, dad. Don't ask Christian. Don't mention anything about it.)

"Détends-toi, ma chérie. Je ne demanderai pas à Daniel ou à Christian cette fois. Mais pour la prochaine course, quand tu ne seras plus là pour m'arrêter?" He answered and pulled open the front door.(relax, darling. I won't ask Daniel or Christian this time. But what about on the next race, when you're not there to stop me?)

"Papa." Y/N shot her father a glare from her space under Daniels arm. "De quoi avons-nous discuté?" (What did we discuss?)

Daniel squeezed his arm around Y/N and released her. "How are the horses?" He asked her.

Grabbing Daniels Red Bull hat from his head, Y/N placed it on her own. "They're good. Beau and I are going to try our hand at Cross Country next week and Crème is having a little holiday," she answered.

Beau and Crème de la Crème, Y/N's two horses. Beau was a dark brown horse and Crème was white.

"Does that mean you'll be able to come to the race next weekend?"

Y/N gave him a look. Yes, she wanted to go to the Spanish grand prix, but she had horses to train and low level competitions to enter. "Sorry, Danny," she said. "I've just got far too much to do."

"Si tu me rejoins à quelques courses supplémentaires, je t'achèterai un autre cheval," her father suddenly announced. (if you join me at a few more of the races I will buy you another horse.)

"Tu ne peux pas me corrompre, papa." (you can't bribe me, dad)

"Ta mère m'a dit que tu voulais un cheval de dressage," he temped. (your mother told me you want a dressage horse). "Deux semaines séparent le grand prix d'Espagne du grand prix du Canada. Je t'emmènerai acheter un nouveau cheval à ce moment-là." (There is two weeks between the Spanish grand prix and the Canadian grand prix. I will take you shopping for a new horse then).

"Un cheval de niveau olympique?" (An Olympic level horse?)

"Uh, what am I missing here?" Asked Daniel, looking between the two Monégasques.

Grinning, Y/N gave him his hat back. "Nothing, Danny. I'll be coming to a couple of the grand prix this year. I just haven't decided which ones."

"Can't wait," said Daniel.

With obligations to attend to, Daniel said goodbye to Y/N and her father and left them to it as they walked through the garage.

"Allons-nous dire bonjour à Charles?" Asked Mr L/N as they approached the Ferrari garage. (Shall we go and say hello to Charles?)

Y/N nodded her head. Together, she and her father walked towards the Ferrari garage. Charles was stood outside, identifiable by the sixteen printed onto the back of his red shirt. He was there with his teammate, with cameras around them.

Before Y/N's father could approach him, she pulled him back. "Que faites-vous?" (What are you doing?) He asked, his eyebrows scrunched up.

"Charles réalise une interview avec Carlos. Nous ne pouvons pas l'interrompre," she said (Charles id doing an interview with Carlos. We can't interrupt.)

Y/N and her father stood around, saying hello to the people they knew while they waited for Charles and Carlos to finish up. Being from Monaco, Charles was Mr L/N's favourite driver. If he could have afforded it, he would have sponsored Charles. But he was already sponsoring his daughters horse riding career and couldn't find the money to sponsor the driver as well.

Finishing up with the interview, Charles and Carlos turned again.

Mr L/N was quick to rush forward towards the Monégasque. "Bonjour, Charles! C'est un plaisir de vous revoir!" He shouted (Hello Charles! It is good to see you again!)

Turning around, Charles looked at the L/Ns with a red face. "Monsieur L/N, comment allez-vous aujourd'hui?" (Mr L/N, how are you today?) he asked and turned towards Y/N. "Hello, Y/N."

When Y/N and Arthur had first become friends and Charles was on the karting circuit, he had insisted that Y/N spoke in English whenever they conversed. With her mother being English, Y/N was fluent, which helped Charles to practice speaking the language. Ten years later and the habit hadn't died.

Charles had a conversation with Y/N's father in French. It was a long conversation, one Y/N tried to pay attention to. But she was concentrating on her fathers promise of a new horse. What colour would she look for? How big would it be? Would she finally get a mare or another boy? She couldn't wait.

"How is Crème de la Crème and Beau?" Asked Charles, turning his attention to the show jumper. With the way he was looking at her, it was hard for Y/N not to feel bashful.

"They're good. If Beau has gotten a bit bigger since the last time you saw him."

When they were younger, Y/N had invited Arthur to meet her horses a couple of times. Charles had picked Arthur up once and had the chance to meet the horses. Beau was a baby then, just a year old. Y/N hadn't started his training yet.

"You could come and see him in summer break, if you'd like."

Let the ground swallow her up now.

But it didn't deter Charles. He kept talking, asking her questions that Y/N happily answered. She tried to ask him, but it was easy to get tongue tied around Charles.

As they spoke, Charles' teammate walked behind them. He said a quick hello but continued on. Charles suddenly laid his hand on Y/N's shoulder and pushed her after the Spaniard. "Carlos! Have you met Y/N L/N yet?" He asked.

Carlos turned around.

Y/N had seen him before through social media. He was at the last race she attended, but he was in Renault then. Y/N didn't get to meet him, and then she had to stop coming to the races all together.

"You are Mr L/N's daughter?" He asked, pointing back to Y/N's father.

She nodded her head. "Oui, yes. He's finally dragged me along to our home race." She laughed awkwardly, and Carlos was polite enough to laugh with her.

"How are you finding it so far?" He asked.

Y/N didn't think the conversation was go any further than it had, not with how awkward she was being. But she couldn't help it. Carlos was an attractive man and attractive people made her nervous. But, then again, who doesn't get nervous around people they find attractive.

"I am enjoying it. I'm looking forward to seeing you boys race," she answered.

"Have you always been a Ferrari fan?"

Y/N had. But, as Sebastian Vettel had once said, everybody is a Ferrari fan.

"Y/N, chérie, allons chercher nos sièges!" (Y/N, honey, lets go and find our seats) Her father shouted, pulling her attention away from the boys in red.

Y/N nodded to her father and turned back to them. "It was lovely to meet you," said Carlos. He took her hand and kissed the back of her palm.

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Charles walked back to her father. "Perhaps I could see you after the qualifying," he said as he walked her over.

"Of course, Charles. I'd like that very much."

Y/N's Instagram:

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sxcretricciardo · 2 months

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the wedding of the grid

The air crackled with anticipation, not unlike the electric buzz before a Grand Prix. But instead of the roar of engines, laughter and excited chatter filled the pit lane, transformed into a petal-strewn aisle. Banners in team colors, checkered flags, and podiums adorned the venue, a vibrant testament to the couple's shared passion: Formula 1.

You and Daniel have been together for five years when Daniel popped the question after he won the championship last year. You were beside him, proudly cheering him from the second place of the podium. It was such a good year for the two of you in Formula 1.

And now, here you are, after arriving in a vintage F1 car, with your "pit crew" of bridesmaids, clad in sleek jumpsuits, escorted you down the aisle, their smiles reflecting the joy you all are sharing.

Daniel stand at the end of the aisle, looking absolutely amazing in his suit, with the biggest smile on his face. From here, you can see a tear falling down of his eye.

The ceremony, officiated by a friend of Daniel's with a mischievous glint in his eye, incorporated racing metaphors. The vows are exchanged under a custom-designed arch shaped like a starting grid, and instead of the traditional "I do," you both declared your commitment with a resounding "Lights out, and love away!" and a passionate kiss. Every guest clapped with excitement.

The venue is just beautiful. With just all glass walls, the Australian view took your breath away. Everything is just perfect and you couldn't imagine a better way to get married to the love of your life.

The guests sit in their designated tables, which are named after the Formula 1 teams. Close to the dance floor, is yours and Daniel's race cars, that your teams happily let you borrow for this special day.

Speaking of teams, every driver was here to celebrate your wedding. They couldn't be more happy to share this special day with you and Daniel.

You make a toast when the sun is setting and then have a marvelous dinner. From your table, you can see that everyone is having a good time and chatting among themselves. You look over at Daniel, who also looks at you and winks. From the corner of your eye, you see the photographer capturing the moment.

After the dinner, you and Daniel open the dance floor. First, you start slow dancing, making everyone think that it would be just a tradicional bride and groom loving dance. But then, the music dies down and suddenly a mix of dance songs plays and you and Danny show the choreography that you both have been practicing for a month now to the guests. You can hear everyone cheer and clapping. When the dance comes to an end, you and Danny are breathless, but have the biggest smile on your faces as the crowd cheers.

When it's time to cut the cake, you both walk to end of the room, with the guests following you. You both handle the knife with care, cut the first slice of cake and put it in a plate. You grab a little piece of the cake and feed Danny, who makes a delighted face.

"This is so good." He says. After that, he grabs a little bit of cream with his finger and rubs it in his nose, mentioning for you to lick it out. You laugh and then eventually lick his nose, as the guests laugh.

The night passes by smoothly. Everyone is dancing, drinking and having a great time, which fills your heart with such joy.

You step outside for a moment, wanting to catch some air after you've been dancing non stop with Fernando and Lando. While you enjoy the view, you can hear footsteps behind and then Danny stands beside you.

"Enjoying the view, love?" He asks. "I needed some air, Fernando and Lando thought they could out dance me and I had to prove them wrong." You say, laughing.

"They should've known better." Danny says, laughing and then grabbing my hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"I can't believe you're my wife, Y/N. I've been dreaming of this day since the day I first laid eyes on you." He says.

You feel yourself blushing. Even after all these years, Danny is still making butterflies in you stomach.

"I love, Danny. I couldn't imagine sharing this day with anyone else." You say, looking deeply into his eyes.

He kisses you passionately, when suddenly a voice interrupts you.

"Are you guys coming or what? You'll have plenty of time to be alone in the honeymoon!" Lando says.

You and Danny laugh, making your way inside.

You dance the night away, wanting for this night to never end.

#daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #max verstappen #red bull racing #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lando norris #oscar piastri #ferrari #drive to survive #lewis hamilton #logan sargeant

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12-seconds-to-live · 9 months

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Laniel.jpg and Charlotte

Pairing: DR3 x LN4 x F1 female driver

Warnings: none, just my happiness with Daniel and Lando

NICE AIRPORT - TERMINAL 1 @15:20

"You look cute today" I stop looking to my phone to look at Lando. Well, that's new

"You say it like it's weird of me using a dress"

"It is" He smiled

"I'm gonna ignore you from now on"

"It's not common, even when we go to parties you use jeans, so, I have a point"

"The real point here is that we are in the middle of the summer and if I put a raw egg on the floor it will cook"

"But what about the jet? It's going to be cold in there"

"I have my enchanté sweater" Lando made a loud gasp "It has cute peaches and it's purple"

"I sent you a full box of my merch last month, mean"

"Cry about it, Daniel thinks that I have a pretty face so everybody is going to see me in the new enchanté collection"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I asked him months ago, even I helped with the design of one of the pieces"

"Well, congratulations. You should look who's coming" I turn my head and a very smiley Daniel Ricciardo was walking to our direction

"You knew?"

"I invited him to flight with us, I know how important you were for him these moths away from racing so I..." I interrupted him with a hug and a kiss in the cheek

"You're the best, Norris" Lando didn't expect that reaction, now he can feel his cheeks burning

I got up and run to Daniel. After Silverstone, I decided to wait for Danny's test with Pirelli. After he finished a call from Helmut Marko was all we need to know that he got the seat for the rest of the season. Even if I have a good relationship with the australian, I organized a few days off with Lando, Max, Nyck, some frineds and myself to let Nyck know that we're his friends and friends support each other.

"It's been only a week, you know?" He said laughing

"I don't care, I'm happy. These past 7 months had been like going on a rollercoaster over and over again so, you know. Even if it's AlphaTauri, you have your way back home, you never left, you just have to travel the world over in search of what you need and then return to find it"

"I know Char and thank you for everything" His eyes got glossy so I hug him "Do you like my design?" He said ponting to his sweater

"No, it is..." I gasp

"Yes, kiddo. Tommorrow a million boys are going to see you wearing the new collection"

"Ha ha, funny, you know that I have my eyes on someone"

"Someone a bit brainless. Hey Lando, I guess you were waiting for me"

"Yeah, let's go"

Once in the airplane

"I have to say that this is a very important moment and pretty faces like yours should be able to broke the internet" I said taking Lando's camera and pinting to them "New wallpapers for your fans"

They looked at each other and start with their goofiness and well... I guess they really missed each other. Maybe Carlos and I have competition.

"We are pretty good looking guys, you know?" Daniel said with a smile on his face

"Even you could use us as your wallpaper" said Lando

"Good offer but nothing can beat my photo with Tom Holland" I said with a side smile and ready to take a nap before we arrive in Budapest

"When are you gonna tell her how you feel?" asked Daniel looking at Lando

"I don't know what are you talking about" he answer looking at the mirror

"Kids, always scared of love"

DRIVE TO SURVIVE EP.4 S.6 NICE GUYS ALWAYS COME BACK

"Hello Charlotte"

"Hi Netflix, can I have some tea? I been walking around doing interviews and stuff and I couldn't finish my lunch"

"Sure, mint?"

"Yes, please" I smile to the interviewer "We can't start, I'll wait for the tea"

"Ok, what were you doing when the news drop?"

"Oh, ha ha, I was with the main character. I can do anything, even work as emotional supporter, PR, car mechanic, you know" one member of the staff approached me with the cup of tea "Thank you"

"How do you feel about this?"

I made a pause thinking and trying not to burn my lips "I think that this a great moment to tell you what happen after Abu Dabi. Well, I sign my contract with McLaren, I was feeling bad about the decision, just for Danny and I spent the night with him and his girlfriend just talking and at some point we got more serious and I just told him and without knowing about Red Bull: What is a home if not the first place you learn yo run from?"

I smiled to the camera "Then he told me about the third driver offer and I felt different, by the time he leave in 2018 I guess that he felt that he was destroying everything and he just needed to slip quietly to the back door without causing to much noise and then not stop running. And maybe that was he needed more than what he really wanted, let go the feeling of wanted to go back and remember what you once had and what you once where "

"But then I told him that it's funny that the feeling of leave home and being far away make us wander our choices but for Danny is something else. He's back home and ready to no longer remember which tale of his past is true and which is an invention. Outside he's the same on the inside he's the same kid that leave Australia looking for a dream"

"I guess he's your favourite person between the drivers" asked the producer

"No, Daniel is my brother and I know he feels the same about me"

📍Budapest

Liked by charlotterjones, daniel3.jpg and 943.501 others

landonorris We’re photographers. We’re back.

📸: @charlotterjones

user1 ARE YOU KIDDING ME. STOP THIS CUTENESS

f1mia need a landan.jpg account plz

charlotterjones This is a piece of art ❤️

landonorris including the photographer danielricciardo our favourite girl

user2 "dude we’re getting the band back together״

user3 we missed daniel button --->

I got inspired! This little story is linked with my current story called (Un)Lost

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @evans-dejong @omgsuperstarg @bibissparkles @hoely-maria @mochimommy2002 @noope306 @eugene-emt-roe @80sloverry @rens-daylight @summerslike11 @matildrry

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spicyclover · 1 year

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Show me your scar

Summary: Being teammates isn’t always the easiest thing in the world.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Rivalry and challenge have always been the words to describe your relationship with Daniel. Never giving up. No matter the cause. No matter the consequence. He’s one of the tops of the top drivers, and you can’t afford to lose another race. It’s almost the middle of the season, and you’re way behind him.

You can’t sleep or eat as you should. All those worries and pressure put you in a state you can’t imagine. It’s eating you alive, even though you try to keep healthier habits. Seeing him perform more than you is painful. Eating less. Putting more hours in the sim or at the gym. You can’t even remember the last time you went out with friends.

You hate being the second driver. It’s a fact. We are at the Canadian Grand Prix, and you’re about to go in your car for the race. Your weekend has been worst than ever. You couldn’t or barely do the practice season since your vehicle had a mechanical problem. You have qualified in P12, way behind your teammates who are in P6.

Sat in the car, you’ve been focusing on your race. You haven’t eaten in a day and are throwing up everything you put in your mouth out of stress. You’re dehydrated, but the doctor cleared you for the race. You can feel the lack of sleep and food getting to you, but you suppress those feelings to focus. You need to focus. All you need to do is set your mind and mind to win and be better than him.

You do the formation lap, and the race begins. The first corner is the worst. Everyone turns around. And already two cars are hitting each other, causing a lot of debris to spread out on the track. You get through the dust cloud and are a little further away. A yellow flag is automatically displayed, and your engineer informs you as best he can of the situation. Three cars are off the grid, so you’re three places ahead on the grid. You’re no longer twelfth but ninth, three places to your number-one rival.

The red flag is on, and you all get behind the safety car and back to the pit. Once in the pits, everyone is allowed to get out of their vehicle, as the red flag may take several minutes.

Okay, here is the thing about Daniel. Is the best teammate in the world outside the track. Always been friendly and compassionate. He likes you. It’s a fact. Being the first woman in a long time in a formula one car and being his teammate is the dream for Daniel. So when you’re out of your monoplace, he’s already by your side, debriefing the incident.

“What a crazy start,” he says with his sexy Australian accent. “It was just pure chaos. I saw it in my mirrors. It’s a good thing you haven’t been it.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, eager to get away from him.

You like Daniel, he’s a great person, don’t let anyone fool you. But you can’t let the fact of being his teammate and being the less competitive one is so hard on you. You just can’t let things go, and every time, sometimes happens, you can’t let it go. You've always been like this. Making no difference between the race track and off-track. So even though you like him, you just can let things go. At some point, you just stop talking about anything and let him do all the talking.

Well, in fact, one night in Monaco, you allowed yourself a little party and ended up being drunk in a boat, almost falling out off the ship and into the Mediterranean. Thanks to Daniel, who passed by and caught you in time. You were in his arms when you started mumbling all you had in your heart. Letting your bag go and saying what’s been bothering you.

“You know. I hate being the second driver. You have all the glory and everything because the car is designed for you. What am I left with? Scrubs. It’s suck. I’ve been sick for three weeks now because I just can’t deal with my shit.” You cried on his shirt. “I don’t want to be second.”

He brought you back to your hotel room and stayed with you. Listening carefully to everything you’ve said to him. He knew this feeling of being second too well, and he couldn’t do anything to improve it for you. Before returning to his apartment, he brushes your hair and puts your pyjamas on.

You didn’t talk about this after. And a year has passed, and you’ve been in the same situation again. Making yourself sick to be at your best performance. The red flag is over, and you all drive off to race.

Your laps are getting good, and you feel good about the car. You managed to get behind, Daniel. Finally, you’re getting in the groove. Your laps are getting better than Daniel, and the team order Daniel to let you through. You’re in the long straight to the last corner. After insisting quite a bit, Daniel let you through at the last moment, making a dangerous move.

Your wheels lock up, and you’re enabled to finish your turn. You are going straight to the champion wall, full speed and no brake. The back of Daniel's car damaged your front wings, which blocked your brake and locked up the wheels. You don’t even have time to think you hit the first wall. Part of the barrier flies around, and you feel something touching your chest.

The second wall came quickly as the first one. You can feel pressure on your chest, and you have difficulty breathing. You can hear on the radio your engineers calling your name. You want to say something, but the words are stuck in your throat.

After that, you don’t remember much. Everything is blurred. You are in great pain and somehow hear Daniel's voice calling your name. Then you black out.

The first thing you hear when you wake up. It’s the rhythm of the monitor. Then you smell sanitizer. When you can open your eyes. You are met with the worried looks of your family. And then everything became a blur. The doctor's announcement. The end of your career. The beginning of this new rehabilitation. The world kept turning, but you felt stuck in your bed. Well, you are stuck in bed. Time flies, and the vacation finally arrives. You’ve been discharged, and you went back home to the UK.

It’s the first in three months that you and Daniel will see each other again. At first, you’ve been angry at him, wondering why he made that move. When he enters your apartment, a weird silence takes place. Neither of you knows what to say to the other. Deep down, you must keep your mind open and calm to any outcome. So when you see how uncomfortable he has been, you can’t help yourself to hug him. A weight is lifted from your shoulder and Daniels. Something forgiveness is the way to find peace.

You converse for quite a while, talking about everything other than racing. It’s been long since you opened up to him that way. Making yourself vulnerable again, just like at the beginning of this journey. Really being friends with him.

“Show me your scar.” He says tenderly after seeing you scratching through the fabric of your shirt.

You take your top off, showing yourself in your sports bra. He sees it for the first time. This scar on your chest’s forever grave in your skin because of his mistake is like a fantom reminder of his action toward you. His gaps silently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, tears in his eyes.

“I’ll heal.” You simply say, putting your shirt back on.

“Scars don’t disappear.”

“No. But they heal, and I think I need to heal now.” You say, stocking his cheek and removing a few tears from his eyes. “I’ll be better, and it’s time I care for myself.”

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #Daniel Ricciardo fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fluff

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march-hare01 · 7 months

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The XA Ford Falcon GT was released in March 1972 and ceased production in September 1973, and was the first Falcon GT to be available in a two door coupe. The XA was the first Australian built Falcon not to be based on a American design, and was almost completely designed in Australia. The XA Hardtop became the more preferred option to be used in Australian Touring Car Racing due to it's larger rear wheel arches for wider racing tyres. The XA GT Hardtop went on to achieve back to back wins at Bathurst with Allan Moffat and Ian Geoghegan in the 1973 Hardie-Ferodo 1000, and the 1974 Hardie-Ferodo 1000 with John Goss and Kevin Bartlett.Total produced: 1,868 Sedans and 891 Hardtops.Engine: 5766cc Cleveland V8 with overhead valvesCompression Ratio: 11.0:1Fuel System: Ford Autolite '4300' 605cfm 4 barrel downdraught carburettorPower / Torque: 224kW (300bhp} @ 5400rpm, 513Nm (380Ib-ft} @ 3400rpmTransmission: Four-speed manual, three-speed FMX automaticRear Axle: 9in removable carrier type, Limited Slip 'traction lock' Diff, 28 splineSuspension: Independent with coil springs, telescopic shock absorbers and anti-roll bar (front) Live axle with semi-elliptic springs, telescopic shock absorbers and anti-roll bar (rear)Brakes: Disc front 286mm (11.25in) Drum rear 254mm (10in) power assisted.Wheels:14 x 6 Steel - Argent painted Steel '12 Slot'.Tyres: ER70H14 RadialCurb weight estimated: 1585 kg / 3490 lbsPerformance: 0-100km: 7.2 seconds 0-400 metres: 15.4 seconds (manual sedan)Price when new for a 1973 XA Ford Falcon GT 5.8 Litre 351 V8 automatic two door Coupe: $6,648.00.

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girlsdressingrooms · 2 months

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Iris Barrel Apfel, Decorator and Fashion Stylist

(August 29, 1921 – March 1, 2024)

Ms. Apfel was one of the most vivacious personalities in the worlds of fashion, textiles, and interior design, she has cultivated a personal style that is both witty and exuberantly idiosyncratic.

Her originality was typically revealed in her mixing of high and low fashions—Dior haute couture with flea market finds, nineteenth-century ecclesiastical vestments with Dolce & Gabbana lizard trousers.

With remarkable panache and discernment, she combines colors, textures, and patterns without regard to period, provenance, and, ultimately, aesthetic conventions. Paradoxically, her richly layered combinations—even at their most extreme and baroque—project a boldly graphic modernity.

Iris Barrel was born on Aug. 29, 1921, in Astoria, Queens, the only child of Samuel Barrel, who owned a glass and mirror business, and his Russian-born wife, Sadye, who owned a fashion boutique.

She studied art history at New York University, then qualified to teach and did so briefly in Wisconsin before fleeing back to New York to work on Women's Wear Daily, and for interior designer Elinor Johnson, decorating apartments for resale and honing her talent for sourcing rare items before opening her own design firm. She was also an assistant to illustrator Robert Goodman.

As a distinguished collector and authority on antique fabrics, Iris Apfel has consulted on numerous restoration projects that include work at the White House that spanned nine presidencies from Harry Truman to Bill Clinton.

Along with her husband, Carl, she founded Old World Weavers, an international textile manufacturing company and ran it until they retired in 1992. The Apfels specialized in the reproduction of fabrics from the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, and traveled to Europe twice a year in search of textiles they could not source in the United States.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute assembled 82 ensembles and 300 accessories from her personal collection in 2005 in a show about her called “Rara Avis”.

Almost overnight, Ms. Apfel became an international celebrity of pop fashion.

Ms. Apfel was seen in a television commercial for the French car DS 3, became the face of the Australian fashion brand Blue Illusion, and began a collaboration with the start-up WiseWear. A year later, Mattel created a one-of-a-kind Barbie doll in her image. Last year, she appeared in a beauty campaign for makeup with Ciaté London.

Six years after the Met show she started her fashion line "Rara Avis" with the Home Shopping Network.

She was cover girl of Dazed and Confused, among many other publications, window display artist at Bergdorf Goodman, designer and design consultant, then signed to IMG in 2019 as a model at age 97.

Ms. Iris Apfel became a visiting professor at the University of Texas at Austin in its Division of Textiles and Apparel, teaching about imagination, craft and tangible pleasures in a world of images.

In 2018, she published “Iris Apfel: Accidental Icon,” an autobiographical collection of musings, anecdotes and observations on life and style.

Ms. Apfel’s apartments in New York and Palm Beach were full of furnishings and tchotchkes that might have come from a Luis Buñuel film: porcelain cats, plush toys, statuary, ornate vases, gilt mirrors, fake fruit, stuffed parrots, paintings by Velázquez and Jean-Baptiste Greuze, a mannequin on an ostrich.

The Museum of Lifestyle & Fashion History in Boynton Beach, Florida, is designing a building that will house a dedicated gallery of Ms. Apfel's clothes, accessories, and furnishings.

Ms. Apfel’s work had a universal quality, It’s was a trend.

Rest in Power !

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yeeterthek33per · 9 months

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New Beginnings and Interesting Reads

Mary Fowler x Reader

Requested by Anon

Honestly, she'd thought she could get away with not stopping to check on the little red light on her dash. It was just blinking so incessantly that she wanted desperately to have it just go away.

Who would have thought the great Mary Fowler, Australian Matildas Footballer, was one to ignore her car screaming at her until it forced her to pull over.

So now, she was stuck on foot, walking around a tiny ass town on the outskirts of Manchester after having it towed to the local mechanic. It wasn't tiny tiny, after all, there was, in fact, a mechanic.

There were a few dotted shops here and there, and there was a main street with a couple of grocery stores and various goods and services fronts. One that, for some reason, stood out to her was a rustic little two storey building. Standing out from the modernised concreting of the other stores surrounding it.

As she walked up to the door, she could see it was a bookstore. Books were lining the windows of varying conditions and colours.

The Rugged Pages.

Huh. Seems like something from a fantasy universe. Perfect way to kill time.

A little bell chimes when she steps in the store with a little push of the door. It's only a few seconds before a smiling employee greets her from behind one the many book laden wooden shelves.

She greets the employee back but doesn't really get a good look at them because she's too preoccupied looking around at the interior of the place.

It's a much bigger interior than she expected. Instead of a full second floor, there's a balcony that wraps around the outer walls and a set of what looks like mahogany stairs leading up from the far left. The centre of it opens up to peer into the upper ceiling and the walls of bookshelves that line the balcony.

There's dozens of shelves downstairs, with varying genres of books and age grouped stories. Starting with the kids' section towards the front and the more adult esque reads towards the far wall.

The oak counter is sat towards the far right of the back wall, a doorway just set in behind it leading in to what Mary assumes is a back/storage room.

"Is there anything I can help you with, miss?"

The accent is shockingly familiar to the aussie. A smile creeps onto her face as she gets a full look of the person behind the australian accent.

Shoulder-length hair pulled up into a high bun with a midlength undercut that looks like it hasnt been shaved down in a few weeks. A pair of plastic framed country road glasses sit on your face, and you're wearing a loose-fitting red flannel shirt tied at the waist with a browny looking red shirt underneath. It's paired together with some black jeans and a pin tacked to the outer pocket on your flanno. The pin has your name on it surrounded by intricate metal flows and vines.

It reads "Hi! My name is Y/n."

"Hey, no, I'm all good, just browsing."

You nod softly with a small smile. You tilt your head back towards where you're loading a big box of books onto some of the smaller shelves designed for kids towards the front of the store.

"Let me know if you need anything."

Mary nods softly before moving to peruse one of the shelves in with it marked 'LGBTQIA+'.

The shelf is lined with varying titles and fronts. There's markers every few books. 'MLM' 'WLW' 'Bisexual Romance' 'Chaotic Ace' (That one makes her snicker a little) 'WLW Mystery' and many other categories. She picks out a title that sticks out to her. 'The Shattered Lands' by Brenda Nation. Perfect, that will do.

She peruses a bit longer in other sections but eventually makes her way to the counter where you pop out from your spot, loading books up.

"Ah, the Shattered Lands, that's a good read. From tiktok?" A little confused, Mary shakes her head.

"No, I.. I just thought it might be interesting." You raise your brow slightly. A smile pulls at your lips.

"I'm glad then. The only time anyone buys this one is if they're fans of the author from tiktok. It's nice to see someone pick it up for the genuine interest. It was a good one to read. If you have the time, there's a little reading corner just by the window if you like."

Mary glances over. It's a comfy little nook with couches and multiple cushions, both on the floor and on the seating. She is killing time at the moment, and she mentions as such, agreeing to stay for a bit to read the book. It was gonna be a few hours before she had to go get her car again. The mechanic said she'd call Mary when the car was fixed. She's lucky. She's got a few days yet before she has anything she needs to do urgently.

"Actually, I might take you up on that offer, I'm stuck here til my car gets fixed, so I've got plenty of time to kill."

You nod in understanding, "Make yourself comfy." As you gesture to the lounge area.

She manages to bury herself into the book for about an hour, various people coming and going, some regulars that she hears you greet with a warm smile and playful tone, most new customers travelling through looking for some quick picks to read on their travels, which you greet with a bright smile and help guide them to what they're looking for.

Eventually, though, she's left feeling a little stiff and eventually gets up to wander the shelves. She finds you reading a book yourself at the counter, having completed stacking any new deliveries for the day. You look up at her as she does so, eyes following her over the top of the pages.

"So what's got you coming through here? Travelling from home? Doesn't sound too much like you're from around this area."

Her eyes crinkle with a laugh as she approaches and sits on one of the stools placed underneath the countertop.

"No, I'm just in from Manchester, I live and work there for eight months out of the year, I am from Australia though, just moved for the job, I take it you were too?"

You nod, "Little podunk set of towns in NSW. Moved up north for the opportunity with a business partner of mine. Ended up owning this place instead. Plus, the women's soccer is nice to have available to watch."

Mary blushes a little at that. Did you know?

You chuckle a little, blushing a bit yourself, oops. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't wanna call you out like that. I knew who you were, just didn't wanna bring it up on you, keep work at work, that kind of thing."

She laughs at that, shaking her head.

"Honestly, thank you for that. It's nice to have a little time to myself without any professionalism. Don't worry, though. You had me fooled for a good bit."

Your eyes sparkle with a little playfulness. "Happy to be of service, m'lady." Before continuing. "How're you liking the book so far?"

Mary, to her credit, actually had been enjoying the book, but she couldn't sit still long enough to read anymore.

"It's been pretty good, I got up to the bit about Sapphire going to find the red-haired witch in the forest to ask about what she might know about her origins."

"Ah, you're in for a treat then. The book keeps you on your toes, though."

"Right? There are so many twists already."

"But I'm guessing you're getting a little fidgety there?"

Her nose scrunches up a little, and she sheepishly nods. "Not much of a sitter I've come to discover."

You nod, biting your lip a little. "Would you wanna take a walk around town for a bit? I've got a lunch break for an hour or so. I figured, since you've time and all."

You pause to wait for a bit before backtracking again, a little flustered. "Not that you have to, I just thought you might wanna get out of here for a bit. Come look at some of the cafes with me."

Mary smiles and nods a little more enthusiasticly than she likes. "Absolutely, of course, but I wouldn't want to take up your time."

"Absolutely not, I'm offering. I kinda wanna learn more about you."

She smiles back, nodding, and you begin grabbing your stuff before leading her out of the store and locking the place up temporarily with an "on break" sign posed in the window.

You walk beside her for a few blocks, chatting idly about the town and its aspects. "There's a few places I go to when I forget to buy food for work, which today happens to be one of those days."

You lead her to a cozy little coffee shop. Inside, it's a bit warmer, and the smell of brewing liquid life permeates the air. You nod at the barista working the register. "That's Em, my most likely future best man."

Emily looks up at you as you enter. "Look who it is, ratbag. In for the morning usual?"

You shake your head amused, "Yeah, Em, and another one for the new girl."

"Hi, how are you? I'm Emily."

"Hey, nice to meet you, I'm doing pretty good, keeping this one busy, it seems."

"I'm showing her the good places to hit up in town, just getting coffee first. How do you want your coffee?"

Mary gives her order to Em, who starts working on the two beveridges right away. As you wait, she asks about the reason in particular for this town.

"Cause she can't get enough of this!" Emily yells out from behind the machine.

You roll your eyes at the barista. "Nah, you're a pain in the ass."

"You love this ass."

"Too much sometimes, honestly, why are we friends again?"

She gives you a mock offended look, clutching at invisible pearls.

You chuckle and turn back to the striker beside you. "The opportunity was there. The place was cheap, and a quick fix. Plus, the people here are okay."

Emily interjects, waving you both over.

"Actually, the people here are really nice. This one's just an asshole." She winks at Mary as she says it.

"Don't listen to her. She's just jealous cause she can't get a date in a town with a population of two hundred."

Mary raises a brow at that.

"A date?"

You flush quickly realising what you said. "I mean, it was more of a-"

"Nice going sweetheart'."

You whip your head around at the girl behind the counter. "Shut up."

Mary's head tilts back in a laugh. "If you wanted this to be a date, all you had to do was ask."

Your mouth drops open at that, and Emily laughs at your expression. Mary smirks as she picks up her drink and walks to the door, gesturing for you both to keep moving.

"I like this one, keep her around for me!"

Em calls after you, and you turn to glare at the blonde.

This woman certainly has you on your toes.

Your cheeks are basically pinker than they've ever been but you follow regardless, a little sheepish if anything.

You rub at your neck as you both slowly stroll around the corner, away from view. "Sorry about that, I just kind of assumed and I-"

"Ask me."

You look up at her confused.

"Ask me, you want it to be a date, ask me."

Your bite your lower lip trying to hold back from a massive grin.

"Will you join me in this fine, fine hour and go on a date with me?"

"Nah."

Your head does a double take before the girl chuckles and shakes her head.

"I'm kidding, of course I will."

You sigh in relief. You didn't wanna miss this opportunity. She's gorgeous, she plays your favourite sport for a living, she likes to read and she lives relatively close to you. It's nice not to have to be stuck in a one sided long distance relationship. Woah, hold your horses, hasn't gotten that far yet.

"Great, then I've got a great place we can go to, just give me a few minutes while I go lock up for the day, a half hour isn't long enough to be honest."

You're gone for about ten minutes, and you come back to Mary back inside the cafe, chatting with your friend.

"Hey, sorry about that, ready to go?"

Mary nods, and Emily waves you both goodbye.

She slips her arm around yours. You're slightly shorter than her, so it's a little weird at first, but you eventually settle into the hold.

You both walk to another section of town. There, you bring her to a place that looks like a little sandwich shop with a massive arcade attached to it. You tell her about your first encounter here. The place looked decent and turned out to be pretty good. Good enough that you were back on the regular.

"Hey, Y/n, usual today?"

Georgie greets you from behind the register.

"Not today, I'm with someone for a few hours."

"Ah, gotcha. What would you like love?"

Mary hums for a second, browsing over the menu. You watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a second, and you realise you're staring when she looks back at the cashier. "I'll have a number 12 and a water, please." "Coming right up, hon, and for you L/n?"

"I'll take a number 5 today, please."

"No mayo, extra pickles with a sunkist?"

"You got it."

"16 pound 50 today love."

You're quick to jump in and tap your card before Mary pulls her phone out. She pouts at you, and you chuckle. "I asked you out."

"Only because I told you to." You stick your tongue out at that cheekily. "I wanted to."

Your food comes quickly, and you find a table in the corner, away from the door and any large windows.

The food is amazing as per usual, and the look on Mary's face agrees with that from her first bite. The food is always good here.

"Good, right?"

She groans, "You're kidding, right? How do they make sandwiches taste so good?"

You chuckle and shrug, "No idea, must be that southern English love."

"I swear my nutritionist is gonna kill me, that and my bank account."

"Yeah, I tend to avoid this part of town most days because if I even get close to this place, I can't resist a good teriyaki chicken club."

You finish your food and drinks, and you pull her up with a giddy grin as you lead her into the arcade and grab a loaded up card from your pocket.

"The food is amazing, but the games are pretty close. Come on, I wanna see what we can win today."

You spend the better part of two hours in there, ranging from a basketball hoop shooter to the Mario Kart racer. Turns out, Mary is really good at arcade games. And it turns competitive quite a few times.

In the end, you come away with a combined 2000 tickets.

Which is honestly pretty good for two people in that amount of time. With that, you both pick out a few lollies and a stuffed bear in a soccer uniform, which you all too happily hand over to her. (*It may have cost a few thousand more than you actually earned, but she doesn't need to know that you dipped into your saved tickets for it*)

In the end, the date slows down to a slow stroll around town in the late afternoon. And it's only when she finally gets a call from the mechanic that it has to come to an end.

You walk her back to just outside the mechanics while she picks up her car and pays for the repairs. She's parked it just on the street outside the bookshop while you two talk for a bit.

"Guess this is it for the night, then?" You ask tentatively, shuffling a little.

Mary smiles softly and nods a little.

"Yeah, I have to get back to Manchester with this stuff. And I've got teammates waiting for me to get back as well."

You nod in understanding. You're a little upset about the date ending, but you don't show it.

"Thank you for agreeing to come out with me today."

"Hey, pretty girl asks me out, I'm not gonna say no. Besides, I'm definitely gonna be back. I wouldn't wanna miss out on a second date. And a chance to pay you back for the bear as well." There's a twinkle in her eye that says she damn well knows how much you spent on her earlier, and you blush a little.

"So there's a second date?" You ask with raised brow.

"If you'll have me."

"Without a doubt." You answer without hesitation. Mary grins and grabs your hands in hers. She pulls you into her, and you grin, leaning up. She meets you halfway with a soft kiss to your lips.

It sends tingles down your spine, and her hands running up and down your arms leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver a little.

It deepens for a second before you take a step back, stopping yourself from holding her hostage here any longer and going any further than you should.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

It has her grinning, and she scrunches her nose adorably. Her hand finds yours to squeeze it a few times before she presses one last kiss to your lips and bids you farewell.

"I'll message you soon, pretty girl, I want that second date I was promised."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, drive safe, cutie."

She waves goodbye and drives off, heading in the direction of the highway, going back to Machester.

You can still feel the tingle of lips against yours, the feel of her fingertips on your skin, and it leaves you keening for more, despite her being long gone. You'd have to keep an eye out on your phone now.

As Mary's cruising along the highway, all she can think about is how your lips felt against hers. How you'd grinned at her when she'd pulled you in to meet her against the side of her car. How easy the two of you just settled into easy banter and how open you seemed to be with her. You were definitely someone she didn't want to let go of just yet.

#mary fowler x reader #woso x reader #auswnt x reader #woso #mary fowler imagine #mary fowler imagines #woso imagine #woso imagines

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carsthatnevermadeitetc · 5 months

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Ford Falcon XP Hardtop, 1965. The XP was a "make or break" model, Ford's future in Australia depended on the car succeeding. It was the 4th iteration of the first generation Australian Falcon and though still related to US models (it shared bonnet and front guards with the 1960-63 Mercury Comet) it had been designed in Australia. To prove the model's durability a fleet of 5 cars were driven non-stop around Ford's You-Yangs testing grounds for 70,000 miles at an average speed of over 70mph. It went on to win the Wheel's Australian Car of Year award. However when it was replaced by the new generation XR in 1966 the Hardtop was not replaced and it wasn't until the XA of 1972 that the Falcon Coupé was resurrected.

#Ford #Falcon #Ford Falcon #Ford Falcon XP Hardtop #Ford Falcon Hardtop #Ford Falcon XP #1965 #Ford Australia #pillarless hardtop #straight 6 #hardtop coupe #1960s #first generation

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 3 months

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Mechanic : The last of the V8 Interceptors... a piece of history!

Mechanic : Would've been a shame to blow it up.

The Pursuit Special, also referred to as the Last of the V8 Interceptors, is the iconic black GT Falcon muscle car featuring a distinctive supercharger driven by the title character Mad Max during much of the Mad Max franchise, where it appears in Mad Max, Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior and in Mad Max: Fury Road, as well as both video games.

The first car shown in the film with the title of Pursuit Special is a 1972 HQ Holden Monaro[V8 coupe stolen by Nightrider (played by Vince Gil), an escaped cop killer, who dies in an accident that destroys the vehicle. The more famous Pursuit Special is a heavily modified Ford Falcon XB GT, built on a vehicle originally assembled stock at the Ford plant in November 1973. Maxwell "Mad Max" Rockatansky (Mel Gibson) is offered the black Pursuit Special, as an incentive to stay on the force as their top pursuit man after he reveals his desire to resign. Although Max turns the offer down, he later uses the black car to exact his revenge on an outlaw motorcycle gang who killed his wife and son.

The vehicle started out as a standard white 351 cu in (5.8 L) Australian built 1973 Ford Falcon XB GT Hardtop when in 1976, filmmakers Byron Kennedy and George Miller began preproduction on Mad Max. The movie's art director Jon Dowding designed the Interceptor and commissioned Melbourne-based car customizers Graf-X International to modify the GT Falcon. Peter Arcadipane, Ray Beckerley, John Evans, and painter Rod Smythe transformed the car as specified for the film.

The main modifications are the black paint scheme, roof and boot spoilers, wheel arch flares, and front nose cone and air-dam designed by Arcadipane (marketed as the "Concorde" style). Also, eight individual exhaust side pipes were added (only two of them being functional, others appeared to be working because of the vibrations the first two created). The most famous feature of the car is a Weiand 6-71 supercharger[5] protruding through the bonnet. The impressive looking supercharger, in reality, was nonfunctional; functional superchargers are typically driven constantly by the engine and cannot be switched on and off, as portrayed in the first two Mad Max films.

1973 Ford XB Falcon GT 351

Pursuit Special, when the term is used, generally refers to Max's more famous V8 Interceptor Pursuit Special, a 1973 Ford XB Falcon GT 351, commissioned at great expense by Police Commissioner Labatouche and the Main Force Patrol's (MFP) commander, Fifi Macaffee.

#car #cars #muscle car #american muscle #Ford XB Falcon GT 351 #Ford XB Falcon GT #Ford XB Falcon #Ford XB #Ford #mad max #the road warrior #road warrior

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visionofvoid · 1 year

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Better To Be Safe Than Sorry - Daniel Ricciardo

Summary: two australians dressed by the same designer for the 2023 met gala. surely its not all just chance?

Warnings: shameless flirting

Pairings: daniel ricciardo x plussize!oc

Word count: 2.3k

She couldn’t believe her eyes when she looked back at her reflection of the tinted car door, the dress hugging her in all the right ways and accentuating her natural curves. She had never seen this body representation at something so prestigious such as the Met Gala save for a few household names such as Ashley Graham. She couldn’t believe it when she first received the invitation on behalf of designer Thom Browne who reached out via a handwritten letter and pitched his idea to her. At first the Australian actress was very apprehensive; was she famous enough for an event like this? She wasn’t used to dressing up like this, so incredibly fancy and she had only just become noticed since her role in Daisy Jones and The Six. She even had a whole team do her makeup and hair for her which she wasn’t used to unless she was about to film a scene.

She expected the tag stitched into the dress to scratch her back but instead it sat flush. It only had Thom’s name, her name and the Met Gala handwritten and the small gesture meant a lot to her surprisingly, it was a garment made just for her plump body. It was organised so all of Thom’s guests were arriving at the same time to showcase his work in a cohesive way, and it meant that organising a group shot was just that little bit easier. Stepping out of the car she was blinded by how lit up the walkway was, a cream colour leading her and ushering her towards the famous steps of the Met and towards the screaming crowds. She wasn’t entirely sure who else was dressed by Thom so she was excited to see and meet some famous faces as well as by other designers.

“Just follow me.” Lucille was met with a smile from some volunteers who rushed to both her side. She wasn’t overly excited to be walking in heels but she had a lot of practice to make sure she wouldn’t fall. The dress, however, hugged her thighs enough that it meant she had to take small and careful steps. She sucked in a deep breath, seeing the ‘TB’ embroidered between her breasts on the bodice move with her breathing and she plastered on a smile.

With each and every step Lucille found that the shouts of the photographers grew louder and the fans screaming in anticipation for the next guest to arrive. There was a little bit of a wait for the celebrities to allow a steady flow at the base of the footsteps and Lucille found herself beaming at Thom Browne when she saw his familiar face talking with presumably his other guests.

“Ah, my dear, my muse!” It seemed as if she was the last of his guests to arrive, eight more heads turning adorned in black and white, tulle and lace, camellias and different patterns. They all looked fabulous and as Lucille scanned briefly over their faces she found that it all suited them. Thom rushed over, embracing Lucille quickly and then pulled away, his arms on her bare shoulders as he stood back to admire his work. “Stunning. Absolutely stunning.” Lucille found her rosy coloured cheeks flush at the compliments but thanked the designer nonetheless.

Daniel was incredibly privileged to say the least when he received a handwritten letter from Thom Browne regarding an invitation to the Met Gala. He had watched Lewis attend and will admit, he found it to be a guilty pleasure to keep up with it every year. He admired the hard work the designers put in and the fuss about it. Now that his main focus was not on racing full time, it was a no-brainer that he would attend the Met Gala. He was all smiles when he first met Thom and that all continued to him actually seeing his suit for the first time to arrive second for the designer. A few months out of a long term relationship and he was thriving, he was just in awe as he looked around the tunnel leading to the waiting area. One by one the remainder of Thom’s guests arrived and piled up behind him, compliments flowing through the air, everyone's agents taking care of phones, bags and other items.

The naturally extroverted racer enjoyed meeting new faces, happily discussing his projects and the projects of others while they slowly moved forward. His back was turned as he anxiously looked past the people in front of him when Lucille arrived. The two were familiar with one another naturally being some of the few Australians that were famous outside of their home nation however when Thom gushed over her Danile found himself turning around. She looked absolutely stunning. The two had never crossed paths with one another before but Daniel was kicking himself over it now. She exuded confidence, kindness and warmth. He could tell she was nervous but as Thom greeted her she seemed to calm herself.

Lucille blushed as Thom showered her in compliments, some of the other guests commenting on her outfit, her makeup and her work in Daisy Jones. It was her first big event she had attended outside of small premiers where she played a menial side character; this was all quite different and overwhelming, in a good way. Lucille spotted Daniel Ricciardo in a black suit with delicate black ruffles that added different hues to the suit. Her body felt warm and fuzzy when he gave her a warm smile. She grew up in Melbourne and attended a fair few Melbourne GP’s growing up so she was quite familiar with the sport and with the man herself. He was easily top twenty of her male celebrity crushes. Okay, maybe top ten. Top five?

“Where is Rhonda?” Thom questioned, knowing that Lucille was usually accompanied by her manager.

“In active labour. I will be hopping up the steps while she’s pushing.” Lucille joked though Thom could tell she was nervous. Daniel felt guilty for eavesdropping but instead found an opening to introduce himself. He apologised as he pushed himself past Teyana Taylor and Jenna Ortega, his eyes focused solely on Lucille. One by one they slowly got called to make their way to the main area where all the hustle and bustle began and there was no set order so Daniel slowly held himself back. Thom moved forward to introduce his pieces to the Met Gala and hype up his team.

Lucille played with her nails as the team slowly dwindled down into just herself and Daniel and their volunteers got ready. Daniel went first and then it was just Lucille with the next guests arriving behind her and soon she was called up. Her steps were small as she held her head high, walking past several other volunteers who seemed to gush over her look. A few metres later she found herself surrounded by photographers and celebrities, fans turning to look at her and call out her name.

Daniel remained nearby Lucille, feeling somewhat wanting to introduce himself formally or be near her presence. Everyone else had a team of agents or PR representatives to help them pose or engage in interviews with certain people but being a new actress on the scene meant that she didn’t quite have her own team. At least being in a suit meant that it was easier to navigate the stairs leading into the Met.

Lucille found herself being called over to a young interviewer and smiled when the interviewer seemed surprised when she made her way over.

“Lucille Craig, I loved you in Daisy Jones, you look absolutely stunning on the carpet tonight and for your first Met Gala. Can I ask, who is dressing you and what was the inspiration?” It was incredibly loud all around her but at that moment her sole focus was on the interviewer.

“Thank you so much! I’m dressed by Thom Browne. We both collaborated and drew inspiration from Claudia Schiffer’s Spring 1993 Chanel bride look. I am thrilled to have been invited and to see so many different looks on different bodies and people. It’s a bit overwhelming.” Lucille let out a chuckle at the end of her sentence and patiently waited for the next part of the interview.

“We all look forward to seeing what's next for you. It was a pleasure to meet you and I hope you enjoy your night. Thank you!” Lucille thanked the woman before she was ushered in by the volunteers, the stairs coming closer and closer. She was growing more and more nervous but tried to keep herself contained. She smiled at some photographers, said some hellos to other celebrities and continued on her way.

Daniel smiled through a couple of interviews though he kept himself open towards the carpet, his eye always landing on Lucille from a distance. He answered questions to do with his career and his outfit to the best of his abilities but his mind kept going back to Lucille.

“Do you need some assistance, Miss Craig?” The Met Gala volunteer questioned Lucille as she made her way to the dreaded stairs. Lucille went to protest before she felt someone slide her arm through theirs causing her to snap her head to the stranger.

“No, no. I’ve got it from here, thank you.” Daniel spoke, offering a tight smile to the volunteer as Lucille’s hand clutched onto his bicep. The volunteer nodded, walking a few steps ahead of the duo. The small gesture seemed to spark excitement among the spectators and photographers as well as Thom as he stood at the top of the stairs, beaming down on the duo. Lucille sucked in a breath as she lifted one leg, testing the integrity of the dress and sighed with relief when it remained a couple of inches below her behind. “You’ve got this.” Daniel mumbled just loud enough for Lucille to hear, the girl grateful for the support. She gained confidence with each and every step she took, photographers calling out their names to get a pose. This would without a doubt cause some rumours the next day.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do this.” Lucille spoke back, turning her head over her shoulder with her hair following elegantly as she looked back. They were about halfway up the staircase now.

“How could a gentleman like me not help a fellow beautiful Australian? Would be blasphemous.” Daniel joked, Lucille looking up at him briefly before letting out a rather unfeminine laugh. Daniel loved being a joker, he loved making people laugh however this felt different. He suddenly cared about her opinion, he cared about what she found funny.

They made it to the top of the stairs where a number of celebrities were posing for higher end magazines or being interviewed by much more important people. Lucille was fine to walk on her own now but found herself not ready to pull away from Daniel’s arm, and he wasn’t putting up much of a fight either. The two slowly walked with the small crowd on the carpet, both unsure of what to do next. The other guests for Thom Browne were scattered about with the designer standing even further along where guests were to be greeted by Anna Wintour herself and engage in a quick hello before moving along to tour the museum and potter around before the formal dinner.

“There’s so many people. Anne Hathaway, Jared Leto as a fucking furry, oh my God! Is that Ashley Graham?” Daniel admired this side of Lucille, or this side of anyone. Lucille had quite a following, especially after her role in the TV adaptation of Daisy Jones and the Six so she hadn’t quite warmed up to being a loved celebrity just yet that was grouped in the same calibre as these well known movie stars, singers and models. Lucille went to apologise for her behaviour, preparing to call it cringe worthy when she was interrupted by Anne Hathaway turning around, her eyes widening slightly and her perfectly poised smile turning into something genuine. “Daniel, please tell me Anne is looking at us, the Anne Hathaway?” Daniel went to respond but he found himself leading Lucille towards the famous actress.

“Daniel Riccardo! I’m a big fan of F1.” Daniel was taken by surprise that she knew who he was and then she turned to Lucille. “I loved your role in Daisy Jones, you were absolutely fabulous. You’re definitely a force to be reckoned with. I must get going, enjoy the night you love birds!” Anne bid them a farewell, bringing Lucille in for a brief kiss on the cheek and hug before rushing off. Daniel nor Lucille mentioned the last statement out of Anne’s mouth and instead they were both taken back by the interaction.

“She knew who I was.” It was like Lucille’s hand was a part of Daniel’s arm. It just felt so natural and conversation, no matter how small and lacklustre it was between the two, came naturally. Daniel wanted to get to know the girl a little bit more.

“She would be a fool to not know you are, Lucille.” Daniel flirted shamelessly, grinning as he noticed her cheeks flush darker than her rosy makeup. Lucille noticed she was still holding onto his arm even though they were no longer tackling steps. Had Daniel been too nice to tell her that her hand was on his arm. God, what a blunder.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t even realise.” Daniel only chuckled in response, pulling her back towards him. It was as if the two of them weren’t surrounded by flashing lights and people shouting, that it was just the two of them. It just felt natural for the both of them.

“Don’t be silly. I’m sure there’ll be more stairs. Better to be safe than sorry.”

#daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x oc #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 smut #formula one x reader #formula one x oc #formula one imagine #formula one smut

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