#snowmobile racing

[adrenalineguide]

Saying Farewell to One of Racing’s Greats

By Michael Hozjan  

On Easter Saturday race track owners, race team owners, racers, race fans and almost everyone associated in the racing community got together in Cornwall Ontario to bid a fond farewell to one of racing’s greatest.

Above:Race teams brought their cars out in memory of the king of announcing

He didn’t own a race team, he didn’t own a racecar nor track, he never even raced himself, but Brian Mulligan will be missed by thousands on both sides of the Canada/US border. Brian you see, was a track announcer. Let me correct that he was THE track announcer. Mr. Mulligan (he’d probably hate me for calling him Mister – he was that kind of down-to-earth guy) started his announcing career in the mid sixties at the now defunct - turned airport -Cedar Dragway, just west of Montreal, he moved on to Napierville, south of Montreal in 1966. In no time at all, his friendly persona and his ability to announce in English and French quickly wielded him into other racing disciplines. 

Brian’s voice soon echoed throughout Canada and the United States. In 1970 when Sanair International opened, Brian was the obvious choice for owner Jacques Guertin. A year later when Guertin snagged the NHRA to host a Canadian event, Brian was “ The Voice of the Grand Nationals”.  The NHRA must have liked what they heard as in 1972 he was asked to announce the Winter Nationals in Pomona, California. That was just the beginning, he’d go on to the Gatornationals in Gainesville Florida, as well as drag races in Columbus, Ohio, and Syracuse New, York.  

Above: Two drag racing icons, Brian shares a laugh with Linda Vaughn, Miss Hurst at the inaugural Canadian Drag Racing Reunion. Brian was inducted into the Canadian Drag Racing Hall of Fame in 2016

Back home he was also a reporter for CTV’s Montreal station, CFCF, bringing stock car racing into our living rooms.

Not one to hibernate, in winter snowmobile races beckoned him and he became as popular in that segment as he was in automobiles. In summer when he wasn’t barking out at car races, he’d be covering motorcycle races and boat races, including the inaugural Long Sault Regatta.

Above: One of the hazards of announcing in the cold

I met Brian when I was 17, not at a racetrack but at Action Motorsports, a speed shop in Montreal’s Rosemount district. His friendly demeanor went above and beyond that of a simple salesman, he made you feel like the whole store relied on you.

It would be a couple of years later while I attended my first drag race at Sanair International that I swore I recognized the voice coming over the loudspeakers. In later years, with his multitude of pages on drivers’ statistics, he would be instrumental in helping me with my articles in racing magazines and newspapers.

Above: Brian was at home whether on an oval or drag strip

When I was asked to run Montreal’s most popular cruise night I knew I needed and needed a charismatic, bilingual emcee, Brian Mulligan was a no brainer and he didn’t mind the 100 km commute once a week.

Above: Doing what he did best, this time at a Montreal Cruise Night

His heart was as big as it can get as he supported several charities, volunteering his time to fundraising and helping the community.

He suffered a brain tumor in 2011, something that would be fatal to the average person, yet Brian bounced bag to the surprise and chagrin of his doctors, and so over the last few years he’s been announcing at tracks close to home, including Cornwall Raceway and Mohawk International Raceway in Hogansburg New York, across the river from his hometown.

Above: Never to be taken too seriously, Brian was always smiling

Brian didn’t take life to seriously, always smiling and hamming it up whenever the occasion arose. Like donning a red ball on his nose in the middle of announcing. His heart was as big as it can get, always ready to support a charity and volunteer his time to fundraising and helping the community.

Over the years Brian was inducted into multiple sports and motorsports Halls of Fame.

Above and below: Just two of the dozens of awards Brian received 

On March 1st 2023 Brian moved on to announce the races in heaven, having succumbed to Alzheimers. He’s survived by his wife Huguette, brother Richard, and two sons Daniel and Patrick. 

Above: The Mulligan name continues in racing circles with Brian’s son Patrick

Patrick continues in the family racing tradition marketing racing fuel, promoting and consulting races, teams and drivers alike, and like his father is always smiling.  

#brian mulligan #napierville #sanair #linda vaughn #snowmobile racing #regatta #drag racing #stock car racing #oval racing #dirt oval #motorcycle racing #gatornationals #grandnationals #syracuse #cornwall #cornwall motor speedway #ctv news #cedar dragway

[whositmcwhatsit]

My dear, I don't know what's happening to me. I must have become your fan, or rather a fan of your composition "An Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion." I can't read them, literally🫠 The day before yesterday I finished rereading (not for the first time) all the chapters, yesterday I wanted to clarify something and today I catch myself reading everything again

I'm in love with this work❤️ I like absolutely everything. I like that they are the same age, that Chansey is such a witty woman who can fight back the asshole Elvis and stand up for herself, does not allow her feet to be wiped completely. In the end, she forgives him, but at least sometimes makes him apologize. I really like your Elvis

He's like alive with all his magnificent virtues and no less phenomenal flaws

Of course, I was a happy story. As they say here - they lived happily ever after and died on the same day, but I guess it's not destined to be like that, but I still really want to read to the end. And I want to read for a very long time, that's why this reading is very exciting and touching my soul suffering for Elvis🥹🥹🥹

Thank you so much for this message! I am always, always surprised and touched when someone tells me that they have enjoyed something I've written. I know that I don't tend to write 'typical' fanfiction, and I'm weird and awkward so I'm not someone who interacts a whole lot, because I never know what to say, but I do deeply appreciate when people reach out. I know that everyone comes at Elvis from a different direction, they see what they want, that's part of his magic. And I think over the many years I've been a devoted (obsessive) fan, my understanding and appreciation of him has changed and grown as I have. Just like with the real life people I grew up with, I accept the flaws and the darkness along with all his many gifts and good points. It's the way the contradictions and the odd, very simplistic aspects of his character meshed together that have kept me interested for over three quarters of my life. I try really hard to incorporate that into my writing, with varying success. If that resonates with anyone else, that makes me really happy. As for Chancy and Elvis, there's more on the way, so thank you so much for the encouragement. It means more than you know.

#elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #whositmcwhatsit #when someone tells me they've reread my writing it makes my heart grow 2 sizes #i feel like I should roll out the red carpet: 'Welcome to the delusions that help me cope with reality. Can I interest you in a drink?' #Excuse the mess- the fictional characters running the place just had a golf cart vs snowmobile race and it didn't end well

[darkwood-sleddog]

Also something i have appreciated (even more so than usual) this weekend is my breeder's dedication to early socialization to sounds/vehicles/etc. and her desire to breed dogs that recover quickly from spooky stuff.

#dogblr #alaskan malamute #my dogs and snowmobiles? zero issue zero problem #my dogs with cars? zero issue zero problem #my dogs with bikes? zero issues zero problem #my dogs with atv? zero issues zero problems #the same could not be said for a majority of race teams i helped this weekend #like sure the first time my dog sees a snowmobile ever it's like...woah what the fuck is that #but they're not terrified by any means and quickly grow very used to them #like i would be very concerned having dogs spook the way i saw some at snowmobiles this weekend #bc it does not bring a positive experience to the dog #and i tend to be very concerned about that overall #anyways i'm picky as hell

[a-la-rascasse]

Gilles celebrates by drinking from his trophy after his amazing race on the slippery circuit of Gimli 🇨🇦, 1975. (Formula Atlantic)

#the way he turns and says 'what? I- #he's so smoll and cute! #I remember this as the race where he outsmarted everyone with a simple trick and his amazing car control #that of course he got from his snowmobile racing years #formula atlantic gilles mwah #gilles villeneuve #formula atlantic #70s #classic f1 #I'm laughing because the race was held in manitoba and all I can think about is the flour I use to make bread which comes from there lol

[bughead-in-the-comics]

From The Big Prize, Archie's Pal Jughead #78 (1996).

#bughead #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie andrews #veronica lodge #old comics #digest comics #archie's pal jughead #bughead high school #bughead winter #bughead slopes #bughead contest #bughead sports #bughead race #bughead snowmobile #bughead food #bughead happy #bughead confused #the big prize

[f1]

#Uncle Jacques #Winter's coming #so here are some pictures of Gilles Villeneuve (front-row right in photo 1 #front-row left in photo 2) competiting in the World Championship Snowmobile Derby in Eagle River #WI #US. Gilles won the race in 1974 #while his brother #Villeneuve #won it three times. #f1 #formula 1

[hockenheim]

monza ‘79 has just been uploaded boys (gn)

#on the channel i use to watch old f1 races #i see the thumbnail and i just go !!! #this season was just so underrated in general i think because of the lack of inter teammate drama/rivalry between gilles and jody #which led to their final wdc until 2000 when schumi came onto the scene #jody said it best himself when he said communication was clear between him and gilles and whenever one of them wanted to do something he #would tell the other. 'there was no bullshit' and 'we had an honest and open relationship which was part of our success' #and 'part of our skill was to keep working as a team' AND 'he realised what a good relationship we had.' #when f1 revolves around drama and general clownery (there's a reason why it's called the circus after all) it's honestly refreshing to see #a healthy relationship between teammates when it could've so easily festered and turned toxic #like so many have done in the past present and future because history is a circle and try as we can there are some mistakes we can't help #to repeat and it's all heartbreak and melodrama and wishing things were different with looking back and hindsight #don't let your mistakes consume you. don't let a rivalry consume you. don't let your hatred consume you off and on the track. #don't look back at the battlefield and see the smoke in the air and think 'what have i done' #but if there's someone who drives the knife into your teammate's back be the one to take it out #(looking at you san marino '82) #an organic farmer and snowmobile racer. huh. who would've thought? #who would've thought things would've ended the way it did? #(jody's early retirement and gilles' death) #who would've thought they'd only get one championship between them when they could've so easily won more? #welp. this was awfully long. #kym.txt

[bigothteddies]

spending the rest of my life programming my dream game where I can play a hardcore drift simulator in a fully customizable car in every way while two of my partners are logged in in the backseat fucking

#unimportant thoughts #btw thats only like. half of it too btw. #it also has biking and skateboarding and inline skating and snowbording and car racing and truck racing and - #also it has dress up doll games for your characters and also sex and also guitar hero and also motocross and also snowmobiles and skiing and #anyways the important part is you can look however you want and also fuck #getting my partner in on this by making the death scenes real gorey and violent when i crash my drift car while theyre fucking in the back

[vintagesnowmobile]

New Additions 538B 355.0 594B #winter #fashion

New Additions to our eBay listings at https://www.ebay.com/usr/dkc_licdist 

 1980 Arctic Cat Woman's Large Cross Country Snow Suit - Vintage ArcticWear  538B 

 Vintage Arctic Cat Snowmobiles ArcticWear ELITE Winter Jacket - Men's Medium 355.0 

 Arctic Cat TEAM ARCTIC RACING Sponsor Warm-up Casual Jacket Men's L/G 594B

@DollyKamCo218

#youtube #winter fashions #vintage arctic cat #snowmobile suit jacket #snowmobile suit #Team Arctic Racing #Racer jacket #sponsor jacket #1980 Cross Country Cat #1979 Arctic Cat ELITE #vintage snowmobile #dollykamco #Arctic Wear

[mineausramblings]

Strange Things in America pt.2

I hate America. That fact is very apparent, but it is a rather interesting place.

i recently visited a place where I did snowmobile racing in sand. It was fun but I just want to know what crackhead ass motherfucker came up with that. Don’t get me wrong, its a GREAT idea! Why wait for winter to race snowmobiles when theres perfectly good terrain right there year round? But contrary wise, WHO. WHO decided that was absolutely okay and acceptable to come up with? I don’t really have much else to say on that subject so I’m going to move on.

I now can’t think of any subjects, so, until next time and grazie ragazzi :)

#Blog #blog post #complaining #exchange student #writers #italian #monaco is way better than america #monaco #racing #snowmobiles

[newsbites]

Cain’s Quest will begin accepting registration for the next snowmobile endurance race tentatively set for 2024.

This year’s race was abruptly cancelled after unseasonably warm weather created hazardous conditions for participants.

Not long after the race was cancelled, board members started floating the idea of putting off a 2024 race, a full year ahead of the regular two-year schedule.

Cain’s Quest Board Chair Chris Lacey says feedback has been positive.

#Cain's Quest #snowmobile #race #snow #registration #NL #Canada #news #via VOCM #world news

[memenewsdotcom]

Ken Block dies

View On WordPress

#accident #America #car #cars #drive #driving #Ken Block #meme #memes #motorsport #news #racing #rally #snow #snowmobile #sport #sports #united states

[leifalvarssonart]

Can’t wait to see more from this dude💥 @allblackcadillac454 . . @allblackcadillac454 - The pursuit to happiness. Happiness doesn't come from people or relationships. It come from snowmobiling😂 & Who else agrees ? Tag your riding partner below . . #snowmobiles #snowmobile #snowmobilelife #snowmobiling #snowmobiler #sled #snow #arcticcat #skidoo #snowmobilenation #sledding #racing #snowmobileseason #sledlife #snowmobilefun #whipit #snowmobilegram #snowmobileride #braap #winter #snowmobiletours #snowmobileracing #snowmobilers #backcountry #snowmobiletrail #snowridermagazine #snowmobiletrip #sledders #snowmobiletrails #snocross (at Base Camp Guest House) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkuHrIzqWpF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#snowmobiles #snowmobile #snowmobilelife #snowmobiling #snowmobiler #sled #snow #arcticcat #skidoo #snowmobilenation #sledding #racing #snowmobileseason #sledlife #snowmobilefun #whipit #snowmobilegram #snowmobileride #braap #winter #snowmobiletours #snowmobileracing #snowmobilers #backcountry #snowmobiletrail #snowridermagazine #snowmobiletrip #sledders #snowmobiletrails #snocross

[pucksandpower]

Ice Queen: Ice Princess

Kimi Räikkönen x daughter!Reader

(Future) Max Verstappen x Räikkönen!Reader

Summary: before taking F1 by storm as the Ice Queen, you rose up the ranks of single-seater racing (a prologue of sorts)

Series Masterlist

How It All Began: Age 5

The air smells of rubber and petrol as you approach the karting track, your small hand wrapped securely in your father’s. His face is a mask of nonchalance but the slight tug of his lips gives away his excitement.

You look up at him, mirroring his stoic expression. “Papa, is this like your big car?”

Kimi glances down, raising an eyebrow. “Sort of but smaller. And no fancy buttons.”

You stare at the kart, then back at him, your tiny face serious. “Will it go brrr?”

He laughs, a sound seldom heard by the media but common enough for you. “Yes, it will go brrr.”

Placing you into the seat, he starts explaining the basics. “This is the steering wheel. It’s what you use to turn the kart.”

You grab it, imitating every race start you’ve seen. “Like this?” You make a vroom sound.

He chuckles. “Exactly. And remember, it’s not just about going fast. It’s about control.”

You squint at the track then back at him. “Will there be red flags?”

“No, no red flags today. Just us,” he says, fighting back a grin.

You nod sagely, taking in the information. “Okay, Papa. But what if someone wants to overtake?”

He leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “Then you do what I do.”

You pause in a replica of Kimi’s thoughtful pose. “Don’t let them?”

He winks, “Exactly.”

After strapping you in securely, he shows you how to start the kart and you begin to drive. The wind rustles your hair and excitement bubbles as you make your way around the track for the first time.

He shouts after you, “Hold the wheel tight!”

“I know what I’m doing!” You yell back.

As you circle back to him, he crouches down, ready to help you stop the kart. “So, how was it?”

You smirk, “Okay, I guess.”

He pulls you into a hug. “You really are just like me, aren’t you?”

You beam up at him, pride evident in your young eyes. “Yep, Papa. We’re a team.”

He ruffles your hair, a soft smile on his lips. “The best team.”

Signing with Prema Racing: Age 16

“Sixteen and in Formula 3, huh?” Kimi muses, sipping his coffee as he leans against the kitchen counter. “When I was sixteen, I think I was—”

“Chasing snowmobiles in Finland?” You interrupt, smirking as you take a bite of your toast.

Your father rolls his eyes playfully. “Very funny. So, Prema?”

You nod, trying to play it cool but your excitement still shines through. “Yeah, they want me for next season.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Moving up from F4 to F3 is a big transition. It’s faster, more competitive.”

You lean against the counter opposite him, mimicking his casual stance. “I know, Papa. More buttons.”

Your father chuckles, “A lot more buttons. And more media.”

You groan, “Oh, not the media. Can’t I just drive?”

“Trust me, I’ve tried that approach,” Kimi smirks. “But they’re like mosquitoes. Persistent and out for blood.”

You consider this for a moment. “Maybe I can give one-word answers like you do?”

He grins, “It’s an art form. But sure, give it a try.”

A notification pings on your phone. It’s an email from Prema, detailing your training sessions and media days. “Speaking of which,” you show the screen to Kimi, “Media training next week.”

Kimi makes a face, “A room full of people teaching you how to not be yourself.”

You laugh, “Should I tell them I already have all the training I need from the master himself?”

He winks, “They won’t know what hit them.”

You put your dishes in the sink, your thoughts racing ahead to the upcoming season. “You think I’ll do well, Papa?”

Your father walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder. His face is serious but his eyes are warm. “I know you will. Remember to enjoy the journey, not just the destination.”

You smile, pulling him into a hug, “Thanks, Papa. I promise to make you proud.”

He hugs you back, his voice a soft murmur in your ear, “You already have.”

Formula 3: Age 16

The roar of engines, the buzzing of the crowd, the palpable tension in the air — this is it. Your first Formula 3 race.

“So,” your father begins, leaning against your garage, “Nervous?”

You shoot him a look, trying to channel his signature coolness. “Do I look nervous?”

He tilts his head, a playful smirk growing. “You’re fidgeting with your gloves. You never do that.”

You glance down at your hands and laugh, “Okay, maybe a little. But can you blame me?”

Kimi shrugs, “It’s your first F3 race. If you weren’t at least a bit nervous, I would think you’re a robot.”

A rival driver, Dan, walks by, giving you a condescending wink. “Ready to eat my dust?”

You roll your eyes, matching his bravado with ease. “Only dust I’ll be seeing is from the podium.”

Your father snorts, “Well played.”

After a few minutes, it’s time to suit up. As you’re putting on your helmet, Kimi leans in close, his voice firm yet comforting. “Remember, it’s not just about speed. Strategy matters. Don’t be rash. You know what to do and how to race smart.”

You smirk, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

He grins, patting your helmet, “Just checking.”

As you settle into your car, the weight of the moment hits you. All the years, the training, the early mornings, and late nights — it lead to this.

The race is a blur of adrenaline. Overtakes, near misses, and strategy calls. Every now and then, you hear your father’s voice in your earpiece, offering advice or just the occasional sarcastic remark. You’re not sure how legal that is but Kimi has never been one to care much for authority.

You pass the checkered flag, a respectable fourth place finish in your first race.

Pulling back in, you climb out of your car both exhausted and exhilarated in equal measure. Your father approaches, a proud smile on his face. “Fourth place! That’s solid.”

You lean against your car, catching your breath. “Could’ve been better.”

Kimi raises an eyebrow, “Could’ve been worse.”

You laugh, “Always the optimist?”

He smirks, “Always realistic.”

A reporter approaches, mic in hand. “Quick word about your first race in F3?”

You channel your inner Kimi, giving the shortest answer possible. “It was fine.”

The reporter blinks, taken aback by your brevity. “Oh, um, any challenges?”

You shrug, “It’s racing. There are always challenges.”

Your father, watching from the side, can’t contain his laughter. As the reporter leaves, slightly flustered, he walks over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You really are my daughter.”

You grin, “Was there ever any doubt?”

Moving Up to Formula 2: Age 18

“Papa,” you begin as you both lounge in the living room, “I have news.”

Your father looks up from his magazine, one eyebrow raised in expectation. “You finally cleaned your room?”

You roll your eyes. “No. And thanks for the vote of confidence. I got the call. I’m moving up to Formula 2!”

He sets the magazine down, his eyes scanning your face. “That’s big. Ready for it?”

You shrug nonchalantly, a gesture you picked up from him. “It’s just another race car, right?”

Kimi chuckles, “In a faster race car. With even more buttons.”

You groan dramatically, “Great. Just what I needed. More buttons.”

He smirks, “You’ll manage. You always do.”

Training days for F2 are intense. New circuits, new challenges, and, of course, more media attention. As you take a break between testing sessions, your father walks over with a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” you take a long sip of it.

He leans against a nearby wall, watching the other drivers on the track. “How does the car feel?”

You pause to think about it. “A bit more aggressive than the F3. But I’ll adapt.”

Kimi nods, “I know you will.”

A few days later, it is time for your first F2 race. The pit lane is a frenzy of activity with teams making last-minute checks and media personnel swarming about. As you are getting ready to climb into your car, a reporter thrusts a microphone in your face.

“Your first race in F2! Nervous about the competition?”

You don’t miss a beat, “No. They should be nervous about me.”

Your father tries to suppress a laugh but fails miserably. The reporter seems slightly taken aback, “Any personal strategies for today’s race?”

You look straight into the camera, “Drive fast. Don’t crash.”

The reporter, slightly flustered, thanks you and moves on. Kimi has never looked prouder.

The race is a whirlwind of excitement. The faster cars, the tighter competition, it’s all exhilarating. You don’t finish first but you hold your own, making some impressive overtakes and defending your position fiercely.

Your father glares at a cameraman until he turns the lens away from the two of you and then pulls you into a tight hug. “Not bad, rookie.”

You smirk, “Rookie? I’ve been racing since I was five, remember?”

He chuckles, ruffling your sweaty hair, “Yeah but this is F2. Welcome to the big leagues.”

You melt further into him, soaking the moment up. “Thanks, Papa. Here’s to many more races.”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “And many more one-liners.”

Formula 2 Champion: Age 19

“So,” your father starts, watching as you prepare for the final race of the F2 season, “are you ready to make history today?”

You smirk, pulling on your gloves. “History is just another record waiting to be broken.”

Kimi chuckles, “You really have a line for everything.”

You shoot him a mock glare, "Look who’s talking.”

The race is a high-stakes event. You lead the championship but need a win today to cement your position and make you the first woman to claim the F2 title.

The cars roar to life and you can almost taste the tension in the pit lane. Your father leans in, his voice steady despite the chaos all around you. “Drive like you always do. Focused and fearless.”

You nod in determination. “Got it, Papa.”

The race is an intense battle of strategy, speed, and skill. Every overtake, every defensive maneuver, every millisecond counts. When you see the checkered flag waving and cross the finish line in first place, the weight of your achievement truly begins to sink in.

Emerging from your car, you swiftly climb onto the nose and raise your arms triumphantly, soaking in the jubilation around you. The barriers surrounding parc fermé are immediately swarmed by your team and reporters, but through the crowd, you spot your father. The pride in his eyes is unmistakable and he even smiles publicly despite all the cameras undoubtably capturing the moment. He pushes through, pulling you into a tight hug as the team erupts in cheers around you.

“You did it,” his voice is uncharacteristically choked with emotion.

You grin, pulling back to look at him. “We did it.”

The post-race interview is a blur of questions about your historic win but one question stands out. “How does it feel to be the first woman to win the F2 championship?”

With a sly glance towards your father, you reply, “I didn’t set out to be the first woman to win it. I set out to win it.”

Your father lets out a loud laugh, drawing the attention of the reporters much to his chagrin. They turn their mics to him, “Kimi, thoughts on your daughter's achievement?”

He looks at you, his signature deadpan expression in place, “She’s okay, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully, but the hint of a smile remaining on his face despite the media surrounding both of you reveals his pride.

The celebration that night is a mix of laughter, vodka, and memories. As you both sit, watching the team revel in the moment, Kimi turns to you. “I always knew you had it in you. But seeing it ... seeing you out there today … I’m beyond proud.”

You smile, resting your head on his shoulder as the liquor begins to take its toll. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Papa.”

When You Really Made It: Age 19

“You’re looking at that paper like it’s written in another language,” your father comments while sipping his morning coffee.

You glance up, the dual contracts from Red Bull Racing and Scuderia AlphaTauri spread out on the desk in front of you. “Sure feels like it. Formula 1! Can you believe it?”

He smirks, “Considering you’re my daughter and I taught you everything you know? Absolutely.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “How modest of you, Papa.”

A knock on the door interrupts the moment. It’s Christian Horner and Franz Tost. "Ready to discuss the details?"

You look to Kimi, who gives a nod. “Let’s do it.”

As the team principals explains the nuances, clauses, and expectations, you occasionally exchange amused glances with your father, particularly when terms get overly convoluted.

After they leave, you sink into a chair, decidedly overwhelmed. “This is big.”

Kimi sits across from you. “It’s a step up. But it’s where you belong.”

You look at the contract again and then at your father. “Think I can handle the pressure?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you asking me or telling me?”

You smirk, “Maybe a bit of both.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of race suit fittings, team briefings, and media obligations. The latter being your least favorite part.

During one press conference, a reporter asks, “How does it feel to be following in your father’s footsteps?”

You press your lips together, “I’m not. I’m making my own.”

Another inquires, “Any fears about competing at this level?”

You shoot him a deadpan look, “Fear is for the drivers who see me coming in their mirrors.”

Kimi, watching from a shadowed corner, struggles to keep a straight face and walks up to you with the tiniest of smiles that anyone else would miss after the presser, “You really have a knack for this.”

You smile back, “I learned from the best.”

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @ilovedreming @jamie2305 @reidsworld @notyouraveragemochii @faithm120601

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #kimi raikkonen #max verstappen #mv1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 x y/n #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x y/n #red bull f1 #max verstappen one shot

[rene-spade]

growing up räikkönen | f1 grid

fem! reader x räikkönen family, f1 grid

note(s): reader is kimi’s eldest daughter 👍 2nd pov but for the plot reader has a name. We start off in the 2021 season, reader becomes a driver for mclaren the 2022 season. main idea is everyone is obsessed with her lolol

Warning(s): potentially triggering relationship dynamics, some obsessive behavior tbh bc i like em crazy, mostly cute stuff tho!

GROWING UP RÄIKKÖNEN MEANS having a chaotic first few years, but with your father everything always works out. kimi isn’t even 22 when you’re born (2001), and your mother is just a fling who sadly passes away before you turn one, but you are his world. he melts at the sight of his eldest daughter; the one who he raised as his alone. Sure, you’ve had a couple step moms, but only one father who happens to be the protective type. You grow up in the f1 paddocks because kimi doesn’t like being apart from you for too long. even with his marriage to jenni, he has her watch you during his races. Just the racing part though, he commonly totes you along with him during anything he can, even media duties. due to his own upbringing, your schooling is the highest of priorities, but it’s still a guarantee you know how to drive anything by age 16. He wants you to be prepared for anything life throws at you, though of course he wouldn’t let you do it alone.

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SOME DAD! KIMI THINGS; childhood

he named you after himself (kimi -> miki, unoriginal)

when you were ages 1 month - 6 years, he took you everywhere with him

he nicknames you “lumienkeli” snow angel in finnish

his first tattoo was a portrait of baby-you with your full name and birth date

kimi can’t say no to his little girl, so you end up bringing all kinds of stray pets home, even from other countries

you and step-mom jenni iconic duo

uncle seb vettel and michael schumacher (who babysat you growing up) buying you and kimi matching outfits

kimi is very bad at documenting things properly, so jenni organized and labeled his entire “isä ja miki-mäiri” photo album. after they divorced, minttu took over that position, adding robin and rianna.

no-dating rule implemented as soon as you mention a crush at school (you were 6)

crazy dad! kimi who tried to run over your first boyfriend with a snowmobile

a responsible drinker around his sweet daughter but when you’re home attending school, he has his iconic drinking benders (championship era all the way to his divorce era)

kimi who learns to braid hair so you can keep your hair tidy and untangled beneath your first helmet

you are his mini-me (mostly, just in the ways he intended)

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Twitter; self-ran

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Instagram; self-ran

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photo album; written by kimi-matias räikkönen (edited by jenni dahlman and minttu räikkönen)

äiti ja miki-mäiri lumienkeli mik ja isä

2001 <3 (2004)

isosisko miki, minun miki-mäiri miki-mäiri ja robin ja rianna 10th syntymäpäivä setä rami (2006)

miki ja jenni <3 isän vauva miki-mäiri ja

(2003) (kesäkuuta 2002) serrku justus

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this is the introduction to this fic / au. Please send asks to get the ball rolling! If you don’t know kimi lore, this might not make much sense oops

- ren

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 oc #dark! f1 #kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen daughter #f1 reverse harem #f1 grid x reader #obsessive f1 #yandere f1 #kimi räikkönen x daughter reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #mick schumacher x reader #formula one #lewis hamilton x reader #Pierre gladly x reader #kika gomes #lance stroll x reader #alex albon x reader #lily muni he

[norrisleclercf1]

Just Come Home To Us

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: R

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, wrap it before you tap it, I'm sure there is some other, also this smut not the best written but hey I finished it

Our Boy Series Masterlist/ Previous: Memories of Old and New / Next: They're My Future, You're The Past

Synopsis: Things are never easy, even when you want to come home.

A/n: One more chapter before the end of Our Boy Main Story!

4 months have passed since that morning after the Monaco Grand Prix. 4 months since your husband kicked you out of the house and their lives. Painful nights alone, filled with tears and nightmares, the only comfort has been talking to Elijah and Cecile every day. Elijah was the ever-good son, telling you Charles and Lando were far from okay. 

His Papa was back in therapy and felt he wasn't ready to see you, not because of the fight, but because he wanted to better himself first. You kept your mouth shut, refusing to let anger cloud your son's judgment of his Papa. Lando, Cecile told you that he was holding everyone together, but she worried no one was there for him. 

It made your heart clench. Lando was the younger of you 3 and always in the middle whenever you and Charles argued. Closing your eyes, you suck in the bone-chilling air of Finnish winter. "Eh, don't fall asleep on me!" With an ache in your neck, you see your father on his snowmobile, grinning. The same grin he'd give Uncle David or Michael before a race. 

"I'm not old man, just enjoying the fresh air." Words are falling off, and the blanket of white surrounding you has your eyes burning. "Just call," Mika whispers, knowing what you're thinking. He could always see those thoughts whirling in your head. An open book is what he liked to call you. "No," Your father mumbles something about how stubborn you are, kicking off the engine and leaving you as he goes through the private course again. 

Why should you have to call? Charles was the one who wouldn't let you explain, even listen to you. He did what he always did: reacted first. A defense mechanism you have experienced one too many times. And this was the last time you'd be subjected to it. Charles has ripped your family apart more than once; this may be the time he succeeded. 

Kicking your own engine, you follow your father to the top of the point, seeing him staring out. "He should be the one to call!" You yell, the wind whipping around you. It was a lashing you have missed, the cold turning your blood to ice and making your lungs expand to suck in the crisp air. "Why?" You hated when Mika did this. He wouldn't take your side. He said that while he loved you, that doesn't mean he'll always defend you. Sometimes, the child must fight their own battle to determine if the war is worth it. 

"Why?" You trudge through the snow, stopping next to your father. Memories of being a little girl, learning harsh lessons, and the screaming matches of forming your own path. "Because he kicked me out and told me to leave. And I did. He ripped this family apart, not me." Mika turns, and you shrink back. Even after the words left, you felt their poison seep in. "The truth is a paper cut, but the lies are the bullet wounds. You did not help your cause when you continued to lie to those men. Good men who have given you a wonderful family and two gorgeous children." Mika sighs, fixing his glasses. 

"You think I don't know this? What do you want me to say? That I lost sleep, sometimes sick to my own stomach, when I watched Elijah grow up? Or when Charles would whisper how much he loved Elijah and me? Because I did. I've hated myself for 16 years; for 16 years, I have lied to the greatest loves of my life. I thought Nico was my air, but he was sea. Swallowing me whole and drowning me. But Charles," You break off, swallowing your tears. "And Lando, they gave me air; for once, I remembered what breathing was like. FUCK!" You scream out into the mountain air. 

"When your mother died, I felt my world slip out from under me. When you started to act out, a part of me felt like I failed. You started to date Nico, and for once, I thought you were okay. Instead, you were slowly dying inside. If your mother was here, she'd kick my ass and then yours." You laugh, wiping your tears, the cold making them burn like acid. "I failed my babies," Mika shakes his head, facing you. 

"You didn't. You never failed those children, just yourself. And that's okay. Because no matter how old you get, you're still a child. My child and we Häkkinens don't make things easy. Just ask your Uncle David." You laugh, remembering how Uncle David would tell you stories about your father. "I miss them. I feel like I'm missing pieces of myself." You whisper. 

"I should hate Charles for the pain he caused me, but then I remember all the pain he's been through. We're both hurt, Daddy, so I fear we might harm Lando sometimes." Mika chuckles, still picturing you 3 as the 20-something-year-olds back in the 2020s. "He's stronger than you think, trust me." Nodding, the two of you drive back down to your cabin. Slowing, you see a blacked-out SUV. "Who is that?" Mika shrugs as he stalks to his own car. "Don't know! See you tomorrow for dinner!" Scrunching your eyebrows together, you open the front door, heat greeting you. 

"Hello?" Slowly entering your cabin, you stop seeing the familiar old, worn-out McLaren jacket. "Lando?" You call, boots pounding as you round the corner and stop seeing the mop of curls with little bits of grey now in them. He turns and stops, and both of you stare at one another. "Hey, gorgeous." Hearing that accent, those green-blue eyes stare at you, and everything comes crashing down. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry." You sob, crumbling to the floor. 

Whatever he was doing is forgotten as he rushes to you, falling to the floor with you as his arms circle around you. "Don't apologize, please don't." He whimpers, his beard tickling you, and you cry harder, hating how much you've missed that ridiculous beard. "You're here, you're here." You repeat and pull back, exchanging messy kisses and words. "Of course I am. It's been a horrible four months. We would've come sooner, but work and," You shut him up by kissing him deeply. 

Lando groans, hands digging into your snow jacket as he relaxes. Pulling apart, you take note of his words. "What do you mean, we?" "He means us." You give yourself whiplash with how fast you look up. Charles stands there, face taunt and glasses hanging onto the end of his nose. You and Lando always say Charles has aged with grace, but right now, he looks like his 26-year-old self again. And it still has your heart skip a beat. Standing, you two stare at one another as Lando looks between you. 

Without a second thought, you rush Charles, and with waiting arms, he accepts you into them. "I've missed you," Whisper of words pass between you two, but he swallows them with his mouth. "Don't talk," He groans, ripping your layers off as Lando whimpers, watching you two. "Come here, baby boy." Lando blushes and grumbles about how he isn't a baby anymore. "You're still our baby," Charles's fingers tug Lando's curls, which has him staggering into you two. 

"Where's the room?" Lando asks as Charles bites and sucks marks into his neck. "Down the hall to the left," You moan as Charles moves to your neck and leads you with a tangle of limbs to the bedroom. Shoving the door open, you three stagger in as they make work of your clothes. Charles stops, lifts you up by your legs, and drops you flat on your back. "Charlie," Lando whines as he lays Lando beside you. 

Your husband leans back, taking in the wreck messes that are you and Lando. "I haven't even fucked either of you, and you're both so wrecked for me." Lando rolls his eyes, and you do, too, with Charles smiling. "That was stupid, Charlie. We're not young anymore." Lando teases and leans up, pulling him down by his necklace. Their kiss is soft, filled with love and emotion, and you swear you feel that hurt grow again. 

Lando pulls away, gently pulling Charles's bottom lip. Leaning up, Lando whispers something to Charles, who has his eyes cut to you and grow dark. "You're right, baby." Charles presses a kiss to Lando's cheek and moves to you. His fingers brush your jaw and then cup it, pulling you up. "Still as breathtaking as the day I met you in the street." He places a soft kiss on your neck. 

"A wonderful mother," Another kiss, and with each praise, he places a kiss before he kisses your lips. "I've missed you more than air," Raising your arms, he helps you out of your shirt, and Lando removes your pants. "Don't leave me again, please." Charles doesn't let you answer as he swallows your words, straddling you on the bed. 

"Easy, Charles. You both need air." Lando reminds me of which has you breaking apart, chests raising and falling. He leans in, pecking you both on the lips. "I love you both so much," Lando whispers and pushes you down, smiling at you both. "Take off your clothes," Charles groans, hating that Lando is still fully clothed. "Who's needy for me now." Laughing, you help Lando out of his clothes. 

"Still a pretty cock, for an old man." Charles's fingers wrap around him, which makes Lando shiver. "Speak for yourself; you're older than me." Charles chuckles, gently jerking Lando off. But Lando doesn't ignore you as he leans down, kisses, licking, and biting his way down, but he stops looking up at you. "I love you," He mouths before closing his eyes as his lips have you gasping. 

"Oh, fuck." Arching your hips up, Lando's large hand pushes you back down and makes eye contact. "Does she still taste like heaven?" Charles rumbles, pulling his hand away from Lando, who whines at losing Charles's touch. Lando moans when your fingers tug at his curls each time he curls his tongue. "Mh, Lan-" You moan louder when Charles bites one of your nipples and ruts up into Lando's mouth. 

Lando pulls away, and you whimper as you are close, but he shakes his head. "Charles, come here. I think you owe our girl a perfect apology." Charles pulls off with a pop and smiles. "I think you're right." Charles moves and stands off the bed, and Lando bites his lip. "Kinda jealous," Charles laughs and pulls Lando into a searing kiss. "Don't worry, you're next." Your toes curl when you feel Charles nudge you as he gets comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay?" You stop and think this over. It probably wasn't wise to have sex before talking things through, but damn, you've missed them too much. "Yes, fuck yes, just," Charles moves and slides into you slowly, which has you whimpering. "Easy, you're okay," Charles whispers, dropping over you. His arms cage your head, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "See, old." Charles whips a hand out and twists Lando's nipple, which has him squeak. 

"Jesus, just fuck me, Charles." The two look at you and stop laughing. "Watch your tone." Charles pulls back and slams back into you, which pulls out a whimpering moan. "Lando, you can fuck my mouth." Lando whimpers, hearing that, and the boys move. Charles pulls you close, and he moves in slow thrusts, and Lando gets comfortable for you both. 

"I have missed this mouth. Charlie is good. But you're better." Lando whispers, peppering kisses all over your face. "Missed you too," Opening your mouth, Lando lets you swallow him as he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut. You don't know where your mind went, but every lousy thought has gone away with the two of them here. You've missed them both so much that having them close to you has made you fuzzy. 

"Fuck, baby." Charles groans and drops down, covering your body with his as Lando's hips and Charles's move faster. Lando whimpers pulls away, and wraps his hand around. Charles bats his hand away and takes Lando down his throat, which has you whimpering and clamping down on your husband coming. Lando gasps as Charles sucks him dry, pushing Charles off as he drops to the bed, panting. The three of you are a mess. 

"Don't leave me," Charles whispers as you tangle his hair with your fingers. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and darkness takes you over. 

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Charles doesn't know when he wakes; all he remembers is tensing and his eyes flying open. Warmth covers him front to back, and something soft is wrapped around the warmth. Scanning the room, he groans. Memories of the flight, Mika helping them into your cabin, you coming back, the sex. Fuck, he shouldn't have done that. But he missed you, having you wrapped around him as he pulled you apart. 

Eyes move up, taking in Lando's puffed cheeks and mushed curls. He loved watching you both sleep; it was when you were more at peace. Rolling over, he feels his body go rigid. You weren't there, fuck did you leave. Slipping out of his husband's hold, he places a few soft kisses over the marks he has left. "Be back," Lando whines but settles back down. 

Bending down, Charles slides on some sweatpants and follows the light. He stops when he sees you sitting by the low fire on the phone. "I know, baby. I'm glad you and Cecile are having fun with Uncle Carlos." Charles leans against the frame, watching. "Yes, Papa and Daddy are here," Elijah must say something because your face scrunches up. 

"I don't know, honey. Um, Pa...Charles said some stuff during our fight that hurt. So I don't know if we'll get back together." Charles loses his smile and stands up straight. "Elijah, I understand you want me to talk to him, but.....listen. You tell Cecile that I'm okay. Also, please don't give Carlos a hard time, alright. Also look after the twins, oh remember that Oscar's daughter is coming to visit. Yes, Victoria. No, Elijah, don't fight with her. Just, okay, yeah, bye." Hanging up the phone, Charles quickly bolts into the bedroom. 

Lying down, Lando immediately attaches himself to Charles. The door creaks open, and you slide into the bed. But you don't cuddle into Charles; instead, you roll onto your other side, back facing him. 

He was losing you. 

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"But, it's snowing, and I think it would be nice," Lando begs, trying to get you and Charles to do something together. "Exactly, it's snowing, and we're in Finland. It's not exactly a British winter." Charles grumbles into his coffee. "Yn, pretty please. This is the first time we're in your home country. I want to see it." Lando makes his eyes big, and Charles looks away quickly. 

You groan as Lando starts to smirk, knowing he's got you. "Fine, there is a trail we can take that the locals use. It's about 2 hours, both ways." Lando cheers and rushes to the bedroom. The tension rolls off of you and Charles in thick waves. Putting down his mug, he stands and leaves you with no words or kisses. 

45 minutes later, with multiple layers of clothing, you trail behind Lando, who talks Charles's ear off. "Yes, Lando, I know that." Charles smiles, kissing him gently as Lando takes a picture of the snow-covered mountains. It's another 15 minutes before Lando gets tired of you two not talking. 

"Cecile was wondering if she came here and visited you," Charles staggers, but Lando catches him without a beat. "Really? I guess the kids could come here and visit." It never occurred to you that they could come out and visit. "Yeah, it's a great idea, don't you think?" Charles stops walking as you pass him, smiling. 

"You could come home," Charles whispers, cheeks dusted pink from the cold weather. The scuff you let out had Lando's shoulders tense. He could feel the fight coming a mile away, and this was one place he didn't want to get stuck in the middle. "Do I have a home to come back to? Or will you kick me out again?" The sneer on your lips has Charles's face pulled tighter. 

"Charlie, don't." Lando pleads, placing a hand on his chest, wanting him to calm down. "Your home is with us and our kids." Charles's voice was eerily calm, and Lando knew that all hell would break loose with one more comment. "I think you mean my kids. Or did you forget Elijah isn't yours?" It was a low blow, but all the hurt and anger you've felt over the past 4 months was too much. How dare he come here and demand you go home when he's why you're not home. 

"You're right, he isn't mine. I don't even think you're mine too." Charles snaps as Lando looks between the two of you. Fear in his eyes, as this could be the end. The end of his family. "You're right! I was never yours! And you know what? I should've divorced you after you kicked Lando out. How he can still stay with you is a fucking miracle." Charles's face goes neutral, the same look he had when Mattia told him off. His emotions are gone. 

"When you two get home, I hope Lando has the fucking mind to leave you and take the kids and let your worse fucking nightmare come true!" "ENOUGH!" 

Charles and you jump, turning to see Lando standing there, breathing hard. "Just enough. Please?" He begs the emotions and thoughts he's held together, snapping. "What the fuck is the matter with you? The both of you?" Charles has the mind to look ashamed, as do you. "How could you say those horrible things to one another? We're married! We have TWO gorgeous children and a wonderful life. I know I wasn't there initially, that Charles held you together. That you told a lie because you were hurt and trying to not let it all kill you, but fuck." 

"Y/n," Lando turns, looking at you, before taking a deep breath. "What you've done, said, it hurt. You manipulated us in a way that has cracked this marriage in a way we'll never recover from. But, you know what. I don't care. I don't; you're the love of my life and the mother of my two gorgeous, brilliant, talented children. You could kill me, and I'd forgive you. But you are holding onto such hate inside you for Nico that it's hurting us all. Nico, he," Lando sucks in a breath. "Lando, don't." "Shut up," The two of them stare at one another before Lando looks back at you. 

"Nico, he didn't leave you. He bought a new apartment and wrote that letter to tell you how excited he was and how much he loved you. But you never read the letter because you thought he left you. And that's okay because if you had read that letter, you'd have never fallen in love with us, and we wouldn't have Cecile. Y/n, you're not in your 20s anymore. Please, you need that closure when you come home. Because this is not your home, please talk to Nico. There is a piece of you that you're hiding from us because of him, and I have ignored it for 16 years, but no more." Reeling from his words, Lando turns his attention to Charles. 

"And you," He points his finger at Charles, who curls back like Lando has slapped him. "Grow up, get over it. She didn't cheat on us, she didn't fuck him while you two were together and then lie. She never told us who the father was; she moved the truth around. I know that losing your father and Jules was the worst pain imaginable and then losing Anthoine, and that was another person who left you. Charles, we're not leaving you, but we will if you keep shoving us away." 

Charles looks away as the silence surrounds you. "Charles, Charlie, look at me." Charles looks up, staring deep into Lando's eyes. "Elijah is yours, Cecile is yours. Y/n and I are yours. Never think that will change. Elijah is your little boy, the first person he goes to. Listen to me. We're all going to therapy because I refuse to let this relationship fail. If you two don't get your shit together, I'm taking the kids and leaving. Now, fucking TALK!" Lando screams and shoves past Charles and down the trail, leaving you two some peace. 

You two stare at one another; Charles opens his mouth to say something but keeps closing it, unable to say a word. 

"You didn't follow me," Charles snaps his eyes, shocked at your words. "For four months, Charlie. You didn't call, text, write, or even ask about me. Four months of hell, and you come here and then demand me to come home." Stepping closer, Charles takes a step back. 

"A part of me was scared that when I got here, you'd kick me out. And that terrified me. I don't care that Nico is Elijah's," Charles swallows the words and clears his throat. "I care that you didn't trust me for 16 years. Care enough to tell me the truth. After talking to Nico and reading the letters, I understand why. But, fuck," He rips his hand out of his jacket and wipes the tears away. 

"It's all my fault. I went back to therapy and realized that, but a part of it is your fault, too." You scuff, but stop thinking it all over. "He hurt me more than I want to admit. I just wanted to cause him pain, and by causing him pain, I hurt us both." Charles hiccups, wiping away the tears faster. "Four months, that's how long Cecile and you haven't talked to me. We need you home. We'll go to therapy. Hell, I'll stop racing if it means you stay. I'm going to fight for our family." You throw yourself into his arms as you two cry in the snow. 

"Also, Lando is ready to kill Nico on command, and so am I. Mika told us what he said to you, and I'll skin that fucker." You laugh as Charles pulls you back into his chest. "Oh, also, could you possibly call your Uncle David off. While commenting, he's destroyed Lando and me, and it's not fun." You laugh louder, but it stops when the crunch of snow has you facing the sound. 

"Thank god, can we please go home. I'm about to freeze my balls off, and I know you both love my balls." Lando whines; Charles and you share a look and smile. "Yeah, let's go home." 

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