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#stavelot
beautiful-belgium · 2 years
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Unknown master - Details from the Châsse de saint Remacle de Stavelot (c. 1250 - 1260)
Photography by Torsin, Jean-Louis, IRPA (1996) 
© KIK-IRPA, Brussels
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gpfansnl · 2 years
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IT'S RACEDAY! Om 15:00 uur gaat de veertiende ronde van het wereldkampioenschap van start: de Grand Prix van België. Wie zit er vanmiddag op de tribune op het Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps?
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67thsheepscientist · 2 months
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youjustwaitsunshine · 2 years
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you know those people who'll go to starbucks when theyre on holiday abroad? bet thats seb but with lululemon stores
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youreamonocoque · 7 months
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BC I will be asleep. RACE SAFE AND RACE FAST EVERYONE.
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memories-of-ancients · 2 months
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The Stavelot triptych, commissioned by the abbot of the Benedictine monastery of Stavelot in Belgium, circa 1150-1160
from The Morgan Library & Museum
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Tiger II knocked out at Stavelot, Belgium.
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blamemma · 9 months
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maxiel?! (lol)
3am - DRAMA - Cause you only call me when it's 3am in California // I been drinking all day and I’m tired of, Waiting on you to make the first move, I’m waiting on you to notice - 502 words, max/daniel, hurt no comfort
"I think maybe Daniel you should stop being so cruel." Max speaks into his sim room his voice shaking, his phone on loudspeaker.
He'd ignored the first call, watched as it came through whilst he was driving around Spa on the sim, a new time to beat that Gianni had set. The second call came a minute later, and as his phone had lit up again with the name Daniel, his phone screen flooded with a photo of them sat thigh-to-thigh on a yacht in Monaco Vlad had taken. Max scrambled for his phone, hoping. He'd continued driving, the screen in front of him a distraction of the pain he'd been feeling all through the summer break.
Listened as Daniel had told him how much he missed him, how he wished Max was in LA with him right now, how he wants to kiss him everywhere, how he's dying to taste him again.
"Max, come on, don't be so difficult." Daniel's voice doesn't sound right through Max's speaker, sounds distant and far away, all traces of any softness gone, but then Max reminds himself it could also be the alcohol. Then he also remembers Daniel doesn't love him. "Tell me a bedtime story."
"Ok Daniel," Max counters, crossing the start line to begin a new lap. "how about the one where a guy tells the idiot he's been dating for 4 months that he loves him, and instead of that guy saying anything back, he leaves the apartment he's practically moved into and hops on a flight straight to Los Angeles the next day. Would you like to hear that story Daniel?"
Max is seething; it's been days of this. Of Daniel out with his friends all day riding dirt bikes or hiking trails and Max searching for crumbs of him on social media at all different times of day, and then like clock work, most days since he left, 3am in California, 12pm in Monaco, Daniel calls him, drunk out his mind, a full bottle of wine probably in his system.
"I don't like that one," Daniel slurs. Max grips the steering wheel in front of him hard, bites his lip to stop himself from screaming Neither do I. Tries not to imagine Daniel all hazy eyes and tousled curls, sprawled on his crisp white bed in LA, nothing on but brightly-coloured boxers.
Instead, he focuses on how he's perfected Les Combes, aced the first sector, how he's edged ahead of Gianni's sector two time by mere tenths. If he can beat this -- a small win.
It's almost comical that Max knows exactly what's coming next. Knows what question Daniel's going to ask; it's been the same one for the past nine days. If he doesn't laugh at the joke of it all, of their situation, he'll cry.
"If I come home," Home. Max aches and aches and aches. "Will you forgive me?"
"No." Max lies.
He misses the breaking zone at Stavelot and crashes into the barrier.
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totowlff · 2 years
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chapter one — punishment
➝ request:  I would really like to read again a jealous Toto for the reader.
➝ word count: 7,2k
➝ warnings: smut
➝ author’s note: this one-shot took unnecessarily long time in my head as well as my drafts. unfortunately, i don't know how to write a porn without a plot, so let's just say i got too carried away. moreover, with a beautiful inspiration that was those two laps at spa-francorchamps, i couldn't leave this request aside.
You stared at the dark sky over Stavelot in silence as your fingers clenched the blue and red foam of the Sky Sports microphone in your hands.
The memory of one particular Sunday was vivid in your mind.
The wind.
The cold.
The rain.
— Y/N — you heard, behind you. Turning around, you found Jules, your producer, smiling.
— Yes? — you answered.
— They cleared the track for us. Shall we record the first segment?
You looked down the pitlane, where three cars were parked side by side. There was a crowd of onlookers, photographers, and cameras around them. On the left was the Mercedes-AMG ONE, with Lewis Hamilton leaning against the bodywork, talking to Bradley, Mercedes' communications director. In the middle was the GT3 EDITION 55”, which was currently being photographed by Steve, the team photographer. On the right was the 300 SEL 6.8 AMG, the famous Rote Sau. Behind the wheel, talking to George Russell, there he was.
Toto Wolff.
You knew of the team principal's reputation long before you even thought about the possibility of stepping into the paddock. When you were still working in the Sky Sports newsroom in London, you were always amused by the behind-the-scenes motorsport gossip from your colleagues who worked at the races. The words 'beautiful', 'charming' and 'charismatic' never failed to appear in their accounts of interactions with Toto. However, it never crossed your mind that you would someday witness his charm and good looks firsthand. 
The first time you stepped into a race paddock was to replace Georgina, one of the producers who worked with Ted Kravitz, producing content for the channel's website, who had contracted Covid-19 at the British Grand Prix. After some exceptional work on the two weekends you covered for your colleague, you were sent more frequently to produce on-location, helping to create stories that had a resounding impact. It didn't take long for you to reach the higher echelons of sports reporting, crafting more interesting stories and producing more daring reports.
However, your big break came when you found out that Lewis Hamilton would not race at the Sakhir Grand Prix after testing positive for Covid-19. With Ted stuck in a meeting, there was no one who could break the news live during the F1 Report. So, using all your courage — and steely nerve — you stood in front of a camera for the first time and gave the world first-hand information about the medical status of the seven-time world champion.
The following year, you were promoted to the role of being an on-camera personality, occasionally doing pit lane walks and media pen interviews. It was during one of these interviews, after qualifying for the Bahrain Grand Prix, that you had your first interview with a certain team principal.
— Hello, Toto, how are you?
— Fine — he replied, smiling. “They weren’t kidding, he does have a nice smile.”, you thought — And you?
— I’m fine as well. I would like to get your impressions of today’s qualifying session, especially considering the pace shown by Max Verstappen today.
— Well, we're very excited to have a real fight on our hands. Six teams in the top ten today and it's clear that simply being good won't be enough this year. But in this final year of the current set of regulations, we have to push the needle even further, not only to beat Red Bull, but also some of the other teams.
— Lewis and Valtteri were both unsatisfied with the reliability of the W12 during pre-season testing. Today, the car proved to be more reliable, but it still doesn't seem to be quite at the pace you’d like it to be.
— It’s true that conditions weren't favorable for us today, but we're definitely closer here than we were during the three days of pre-season testing. However, I can't say exactly what our position is in relation to Red Bull yet.
You smiled, satisfied with his answers.
— Right, Toto. Thank you very much for your insight.
He nodded, preparing to go to the next set of microphones. However, the team principal stopped, standing in front of you for a few seconds in the middle of the media pool before coming back to you.
— You're new around here, aren't you? — he asked, raising an eyebrow.
— I’m not new at Sky, no. I've been here since 2018.
— But, here, in the paddock, how long have you been here?
— Since last year.
— As a reporter?
— No. I was a producer. I started as an on-camera reporter this year.
Toto smiled.
— I understand now.
— Understand what?
— Why I don’t remember you.
— Well, with so many other media people around the paddock, it's pretty easy for us to blend in.
— Blend in? Not for someone as pretty as you are. — he replied with a mischievous smile before moving on to the next journalist who was waiting for him.
“And… He’s definitely charming”, you thought, trying to ignore the way your face was heating up, as well as the laughter from Daniel, your cameraman.
As the months passed, his compliments became more frequent. The looks you shared lingered more. His touches were no longer incidental. The tension between the two of you was palpable every time you crossed paths, whether in the paddock, the media pool, or the press conference room.
It was like a glass of water, filling drop by drop. 
— We're going to do the introduction, and after they've done the laps, you're going to talk to the three of them, okay? — Jules said to you as you walked towards the three cars in the pitlane.
— Right — you confirmed. You stopped at a point just to the right of the track, so that Daniel could capture all three cars in the same frame in a diagonal shot.
— Do you think it's better to keep still or move for these introduction shots?
— Moving. It’s more dynamic.
— Okay — you smiled — Let's go.
You grabbed your cell phone and quickly reviewed the talking points for your segment. “Talk about where we are, the reason, the cars, and the drivers”, you thought, reading the email sent by the Mercedes’ press office.
— Ready? — Daniel asked.
You hesitated, taking a moment to fix your hair and smooth your hands over your skirt one last time.
— Yes — you smiled.
With a thumbs up, the cameraman signaled you to begin.
— We are here at the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, celebrating the 55th anniversary of AMG. To celebrate in style, AMG has put together four great cars, as well as four… Or, rather, three, great drivers.
Behind the camera, Jules laughed at your phrasing.
— Now, Toto will be behind the wheel of this legendary 300 SEL 6.8 AMG, better known as the Red Pig. Lewis will be behind the wheel of this spectacular Mercedes-AMG ONE and George will drive the new GT3 EDITION 55, which you can see in the middle there. We also have Formula 1 Safety Car driver Bernd Mayländer who will be driving the AMG safety car, which is a modified AMG GT Black series. Let's take a look — you added, smiling.
A few seconds later, Daniel looked up at you
— Perfect, Y/N.
— Want to try a second time?
— Do we have time, Jules? — the cameraman asked.
You saw your producer wave to Bradley, who was still standing next to Lewis, pointing to his wrist, in a way of asking how much time they had there before the cars took to the track. The communications director held up two fingers, to which Jules simply responded with a raised thumb.
— No, we don't. Daniel, can you take some more filler footage?
— No problem — the cameraman replied, repositioning his device on his shoulder and heading toward the cars parked behind you. Meanwhile, Jules approached you, putting a hand on your shoulder.
— Shall we go to the pit lane?
You nodded, following your producer to the pit area.  It was starting to become busy due to preparations for the next day, when the first free practice sessions would take place at the circuit. Leaning back against the wall, you were making a concentrated effort not to look for those familiar brown eyes in the midst of the crowd of people, so you looked up, staring at the dark clouds over the circuit.
— You think it will rain? — you asked quietly, placing the microphone on top of the concrete.
Jules looked up.
— I saw that there was a good chance of rain for this weekend.
You pursed your lips.
— That’s shit — you muttered.
— I hope you brought your raincoat this time — the producer said, nudging you with his elbow.
— I did — you said with a smirk, your memory taking you back to the year before. 
It was a rainy Sunday on the same circuit, and it was the day that the metaphorical glass, filling drop by drop as you and Toto flirted and teased each other, spilled over.
You had always prided yourself on being a woman who was always prepared for any eventuality. However, on the wettest weekend of the season, on a trip to the racetrack in the Ardennes forest, an area famously prone to heavy rainstorms, you'd somehow managed the feat of forgetting your raincoat in London. 
“Dumb bitch”, you thought, after you left the third official merchandise tent without finding a way to protect yourself from the storm that fell on Stavelot.
Accepting the consequences, you decided to keep working, ignoring the weather-related adversities. However, with you running up and down the paddock so much during the red flag period, with only your normal jacket to protect you from the elements, it wasn’t long before you ended up completely soaked.
At one point in the afternoon, after yet another aborted race start, you were walking back to the media center when you felt your cell phone vibrate in your coat pocket. You sought shelter to check your messages and hadn't even noticed which tent you’d stepped under until you heard a familiar male voice behind you.
— You're soaking wet.
Turning around, you saw Toto's familiar smile. The team principal was seated at one of the hospitality tables. The hospitality area was otherwise completely empty.
— I didn't bring my raincoat.
— Bad weekend to leave it at home, huh?
You nodded, chuckling before looking back at your cell phone, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You were trying to type a reply to Billy, Sky’s Formula 1 director, but your fingers didn't seem to want to respond.
— Are you cold? — Toto questioned you.
The question made you notice the chill building up in your body that you’d been ignoring until just then.
— No.
— I can see from here that you’re shivering, Y/N.
— It's nothing — you replied, trying to mask the tremor in your voice.
Toto got up from the table and approached you. He took your hands in his, the iciness of your cold, wet hands a stark contrast to the warmth of his.
— You're freezing — the team principal stated, rubbing your hands lightly, trying to impart some of his warmth.
— Seriously, it's okay — you said softly, trying to ignore the sudden wave of heat that coursed through your body, pushing away the chill you were feeling.
— No, no, you're going to get sick like this — Toto said, a worried look in his brown eyes.
— Toto, I'm fine, it's just water. I’m not going to melt.
He shook his head. He didn’t let go of your hand and took you, without a word, into the Mercedes motorhome. He led you up the spiral stairs, through the hallways, and to a frosted glass door. He opened it to reveal a small, simple office with a neat desk made of pale wood and a black office chair.
— I'll go get you a towel, don’t go anywhere — Toto said, disappearing down the hall.
Alone inside the small office, you looked at the shelves on the wall, decorated with potted plants, awards and picture frames with images of Toto at team celebrations, accompanied by his drivers. However, the photo that caught your attention the most was a photo of him with Niki Lauda. You smiled looking at it.
— Here you are — you heard him behind you. Turning around, you found the team principal holding out a rolled-up black towel to you. Taking the terry cloth in your hands, you unfurled it, noticing a logo embroidered in white thread. The logo was a pair of stylized wings that formed a shape that looked like the face of a lion.
— Is this Lewis’ towel? — you asked.
— Yes. I took it from his room.
— You don’t think he’ll get upset?
— I’m sure he won’t — Toto replied, giving you a wink. You felt your face heat up.
— I really hope so — you muttered, as you opened your wet coat.
Smiling, the team principal stepped behind you, helping you peel the soaked jacket from your body. Underneath, you wore a thin blouse that was also wet. The fabric was transparent now, and clinging to your curves. You were embarrassed as you hurried to dry yourself off, running the towel down your arms.
However, the damage was already done.
Looking up, you noticed that Toto was watching you carefully, taking in every detail that the wet shirt showed, his lips pressed together. In his brown eyes, you could see only one thing.
Desire.
— Well — you said, wrapping the towel around your shoulders — I just have to thank you for your kindness.
He blinked, as if he'd come out of a trance.
— It was no problem, Y/N. Really.
— Yes, but I appreciate it anyway. You didn't have to.
— Yes, I did. One of the best journalists in the paddock can't walk around soaking wet and risk catching pneumonia.
You felt like you could melt on the spot.
— I don't know how to repay you — you stammered.
— But I do — Toto smiled, taking a step forward.
In your chest, your heart was pounding.
— Do you want a kiss? — you asked, without hesitation.
Toto's eyes widened.
— Well — he began to stutter, his face red — I had something else in mind… I don't know, maybe a feature story about the team… Or even about me.
— Toto, I've watched enough romantic comedies to know what happens when a man and a woman are alone in a room for the first time after months of flirting and staring at each other.
— What’s that?
— They kiss. And then they have sex.
— And what do you want?
— With you? Both.
You couldn’t say anything else before Toto advanced on you, his lips on yours, releasing the tension of nearly six months of the game the two of you were playing with each other. You knew you wouldn't be leaving that office until he was fully sated, which was almost an hour later, after you'd had three orgasms on top of his desk, your moans echoing off the office walls.
You’d had many more since that day.
The sound of engines brought your focus back to the cars in front of you. With the track cleared, the two Mercedes drivers and team principal were already seated inside the vehicles for their exhibition lap, waiting for authorization to accelerate through the circuit. 
Soon enough, green lights lit up on the electronic panel, and the three of them shot down the main straight with the safety car behind, dozens of people in the stands and pit lane watching.
After two laps around the circuit, the four cars entered the pit area in a row, stopping in front of the Mercedes’ garage. It wasn't long before mechanics, photographers, cameramen and onlookers crowded around the vehicles, pointing and chatting about the cars.
— Shall we, Y/N? — Jules turned to you.
Picking up your mic again, you smiled.
— Yes, let’s go.
The two of you crossed the pit lane towards the point where the cars were gathered. The drivers were already outside the vehicles, their helmets abandoned on the seats, talking to each other about the laps, teasing and joking with each other. After hearing Toto's laugh after a comment from George, an involuntary smile appeared on your lips. It was your favorite sound.
— What are you smiling at? — Jules asked you, one eyebrow raised.
You blinked. The producer didn't know about your affair with Toto. Nobody did. It was a deal made by both of you, not just to protect each other’s privacy, but also to avoid any issues of you violating journalistic ethics. “You can’t sacrifice your career because of me”, you heard Toto say in your head.
— I was thinking of a question to ask Toto.
Jules looked around for the team principal.
— Then you'd better take advantage of the fact that he's free now and go ask him — he said, tilting his head in the Austrian's direction.
You saw Toto again and noticed that he was leaning against the red bodywork of the 300 SEL 6.8 AMG, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed to the ground. Before you even realized it, your feet were pulling you towards him, like a metal piece drawn to a magnet. Stopping beside him, you hesitated for a few seconds.
— Did you have fun? — you said.
— Who's asking? — he smiled, looking at the microphone in your hand.
— Toto…
— I need to know, so I know how to answer. Is it the journalist asking me, or the woman?
You leaned back against the red metal beside him.
— Both — you replied, the shadow of a smile on your lips.
— Well, to the journalist, I will say that I was looking forward to driving this car and that it was a lot of fun.
— And to the woman?
Toto brought his face close to your ear.
— I had more fun last night with you.
You looked at him, violent heat rising in your face. Noticing your flushed cheeks, Toto just smirked.
— I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that — you mumbled.
— Your face says otherwise, but that's okay.
You were silent, wondering what to say. “Didn't you have a question for him?”, you asked yourself, fiddling with the microphone awkwardly. When you were around him, it was as if your mind just went completely blank, leaving only room for the desire you felt for him.
— Do you want to record a segment with me? — Toto said, breaking the silence. Lifting your face to him, you smiled.
— Yes. We're doing a feature about AMG's anniversary and today's activities.
— What do you want me to talk about?
— I'll ask about the company and how it feels to be on the track. Nothing too difficult for you.
— Fine by me — he smiled, rising from the hood of the car. Signaling Daniel to come closer, you momentarily closed your eyes, mentally reviewing your questions for Toto. When you opened them again, you noticed he was watching you carefully, the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile.
— Can we start? — you asked him.
— Anytime, Y/N — Toto replied. Smiling, you lifted the microphone and nodded for Daniel to start recording.
— Well, Toto, what does it mean to celebrate AMG's 55th anniversary?
— AMG is synonymous with racing and high performance. For 55 years they've been at the forefront of pushing what's possible on four wheels, both on the track and on the road. And celebrating this history here, driving a car as special as the Red Pig, an icon in motorsport history, is very special.
— And what was it like to take those two laps here in Spa?
— Race drivers simply have the best job in the world. I don't spend a lot of days on the track, but even with this car, doing two laps at Spa reminds me how amazing that is — he concluded, smiling.
— Okay, thank you, Toto — you said, signaling Daniel to stop recording. When the cameraman lowered the camera, the team principal smiled back at you, leaning in closely.
— At your service, moja maleńka — he whispered, making your face heat up again at his nickname for you.The first time Toto had referred to you with those two words, you had no idea that they were even words at first. 
To you, it sounded like a sneeze.
— Bless you — you said, rolling over in bed to face him.
— What?
— Didn't you sneeze?
Toto laughed.
— No, I didn't sneeze.
You blinked, confused.
— So what was that?
— What was what?
— You whispered something.
He smiled.
— Yes — Toto said, running a hand through your hair, brushing strands out of your face — I said… Moja maleńka.
— Is that German? — you asked, raising an eyebrow.
— No. Polish.
— Do you speak Polish?
— Yes. My mother is Polish.
You were silent for a few seconds.
— Aren't you going to ask what it means?
— Should I?
— I think you would find it interesting.
— And what do words that sound like a sneeze mean?
— They mean… My little one.
Heat rose in your cheeks.
You've never been called that, not even by your parents.
“He's definitely charismatic”, you thought, a smile on your lips.
— Y/N, George is free now. Should we interview him? — you heard Daniel say in your ear. Taking one last look at Toto, you smiled at your cameraman, following him towards the point where the Brit was talking to your producer.
— Good afternoon, George, how are you?
— Good, and you?
— I’m fine as well — you replied — Shall we talk about your laps with the GT3 EDITION 55?
The Brit's blue eyes lit up.
— Let's do it! — he said, smiling.
Interviewing George was never difficult. The driver, in addition to being polite and intelligent, knew how to answer with confidence, without forgetting to put a pinch of British humor in his statements. Whenever you needed soundbytes, you knew you could count on him.
However, even his charm and good press presence didn't make George your favorite driver to interview
— Lewis is free now — Jules said, jerking his thumb at the man behind him.
Talking to Lewis Hamilton was a special thrill for you. If your passion for motorsport was born from watching Damon Hill lead Williams to glory, it was with the Stevenage driver that it came to full bloom. Watching him race as just a spectator was incredible, but watching him up close as a professional was a privilege that would never feel real to you.
— Good afternoon, Lewis — you approached him, greeting him with a hug — How are you?
— Much better now — he smiled — It's wonderful to drive a good car once in a while.
You chuckle, feeling awkward. That season was cruel. Not just to Mercedes, but to the British driver especially. After having his eighth title snatched from his hands at the last second, he went on to deal with a brand new and terribly temperamental car, the result of a new build regulations that Mercedes missed the mark on.
But with the new spending cap rules, there was nothing they could do to salvage the season other than discuss how incomprehensible and temperamental the W13 was. It was something Toto made a point of doing every race weekend that you spent with him, as he twirled a lock of your hair around his index finger or traced the features of your face with his finger.
— I can imagine how fun it was. Can we talk about it?
— Of course — Lewis replied, putting his hands on his hips.
Signaling Daniel to stand, you quickly fixed your hair, as well as running your hand quickly over your dress, trying to smooth any creases.
— You look great, Y/N — the Brit commented, a shy smile on his lips.
Looking up at him, you smiled.
— Thank you, Lewis.
Turning to face your cameraman, you waited for his signal to start, which came seconds later, with a nod.
— So, Lewis, tell us, what was it like driving the Mercedes-AMG ONE here in Spa?
— Celebrating the 55th anniversary of AMG here in Spa is something incredible, as we are talking about an iconic brand in the world of motorsport. But to do that while driving a car like this is very special to me. We work hard all year and we don't always have time to enjoy moments like this, so it's a really fantastic thing.
— We can see how excited you and George were, even competing at one point.
— Yeah, things got hot on the track — Lewis laughed.
— Toto was pushing you too, I don't know if you could see it, but we saw it here.
— Yes, I saw. He's a real racer, like me and George, and you can see his passion for it, even though he's cut some of the curves, from what I noticed in the rearview mirror.
You couldn't help but laugh. You knew that Toto had experience in rallying, endurance racing, and racing GT cars. However, you also knew that he wasn’t able to achieve success, which explained why he turned to business.
— I haven't seen the footage yet to say — you said, trying to catch your breath.
— I bet you'll enjoy the damage he did to the grass at Turn 11.
— I'm looking forward to seeing the track remodeling work — you smiled, waving your hand for Daniel to stop recording. After receiving confirmation that the cameraman had finished the job, you continued talking to Lewis for a few more minutes, listening to his impressions of the car he had just driven, as well as more harsh words about the W13. According to him, the team couldn’t nail down the tuning or set-up for a lot of tracks.
Distracted by Lewis' monologue about the car, you didn’t as someone approached behind you both. He touched your shoulder and you can't help but be a little startled by the sudden intrusion. Turning around, you found Toto with a serious expression.
— Y/N, can I talk to you?
You blinked.
— Yes, about what?
— Privately — Toto said in a low voice. His face was completely unreadable.
Those two words made a chill build up in your belly. Looking around, you noticed Jules talking to Daniel and Steve. “They won't even notice I'm gone”, you thought, before flashing a smile to the team principal.
— Okay, let's go — you replied — See you, Lewis.
The driver nodded at you with a smile. Looking back at Toto, you saw him gesturing for you to go ahead of him into the Mercedes pit area, a quick shortcut to access their hospitality, which was just behind the entrance to the team's garage. Heading towards the access to the paddock, you waved at an engineer before turning down the hall, past the wall where the headphones were kept. One of the hooks had a red hat hanging on it. How many stories have you heard about the owner of that red hat?
Walking silently down the hall, you had just passed the door of the Petronas fluid analysis lab when you felt a hand close around your arm, pulling you back. Guiding you with little delicacy, Toto moved you into the small lab that was inside Mercedes garage, releasing you only to slide the opaque glass door closed, locking the two of you inside.
— What are you doing? — you asked in a whisper.
Toto remained silent, staring at you with those chocolate-colored eyes, until he began to approach you, slowly. Almost instinctively, you started taking steps back, trying to keep the distance between the two of you. You were succeeding until you felt your back hit the wall.
“Fuck,” you thought, watching the team principal get closer and closer to you, the shadow of a smile on his lips as he stopped in front of you, his face inches from yours.
— Y/N — he whispered, placing his hands on your waist.
— Yes? — you replied softly, lifting your face to look him in the eyes.
Silence.
“What did I do?” you asked yourself.
Suddenly, in one swift movement, you found yourself with your back to Toto, your cheek against the wall. You felt his hot breath against your ear.
— What was going through your head out there?
You swallowed hard.
— What are you talking about?
His hands went down your side, caressing you.
— Your conversation with Lewis. What were you thinking?
— I… I was just… Doing… My job — you tried to sound confident, without any success.
— Your job is to interview drivers. Not to flirt with them — he said in a low voice.
— I… Wasn’t flirting… With anyone — you gasped, your apprehension turning into curiosity. You had never seen this rough, possessive side of him before, and you couldn’t deny that you were a little turned on.
— That's not what it looked like to me — Toto growled. His fingers were already on your hips, skimming the fabric of your dress in search of your panties. “If only I had put any on”, you thought, pursing your lips. Seconds later, you felt him press his body even more firmly against yours.
— Are you not wearing any panties, maleńka? — he asked in a low voice, his lips against your ear. His breath against your skin sent a shiver through your body, your pussy getting wet. Swallowing hard, you made an affirmative sound, the words stuck in your throat.
However, it wasn't enough for Toto.
With a not-so-gentle tug, he pulled your dress up, exposing your bare ass. Toto's hand roamed over your delicate skin, as if he was confirming what he'd already felt through the fabric. Suddenly, the sound of a slap filled the small lab space, accompanied by the gasp of surprise that escaped your lips. The sensation was not unfamiliar to you, as one of the first things Toto had done when he laid you on his desk that rainy Sunday was asking to slap your ass as punishment for months of teasing.
And you found, to your surprise, that you liked it.
— Can you answer me? — Toto whispered, his fingers ghosting over the spot where his hand had landed violently against your bottom.
— Yes — you stuttered, your voice shaky — I'm not wearing any panties.
— Why, maleńka?
You blinked. The reason you'd gone without underwear had been solely because of the unsightly panty lines that were visible in the dress you were wearing, which fit snugly against your body. However, seeing Toto's reaction, you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you’d gone without for any other reason. And with the opportunity to find out on the tip of your tongue, you decided not to waste it.
— Because I didn’t want to wear any — you replied, your voice firm and challenging.
Another slap, this time on the opposite side of the first.
This time, the sound that left your lips was nothing like a gasp. It was a moan of pleasure.
— Do you like it? — Toto's hand went back to massaging your butt, which was probably starting to turn red from the impact of his fingers against your buttock.
You muttered something that sounded like yes, nodding. It wasn't enough for Toto. In a split second, you felt his free hand go to your jaw, tilting your face back. Your gaze met his, his brown eyes tinged with a darkness you knew well.
— Words. I want to hear you.
The tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal through your body, your core pulsing. The hand that was on your face slid down, wrapping around your neck in a gentle grip, but enough so that the sensation went straight to your pussy, the wetness building more and more.
— Yes, I like it — your voice was barely audible.
— You're a bad girl, Y/N.
— Then… You should punish me — you replied, a teasing tone in your voice.
One more slap. One more groan.
You had never felt as aroused as you did at that moment.
— You talk too much for such a bad girl — he muttered, his hand caressing your aching skin.
— And you act too little for someone who wants to discipline me.
Another slap. Another moan.
However, this time, Toto didn't massage your ass as affectionately as you'd expected him to. You felt the team principal release your neck and bring both hands to your waist, turning your body so that you were facing him. There was nothing gentle about his movements now.
— So, you want to be punished? — Toto asked, leaning his forehead against yours.
— Yes, I do — you replied, whispering.
Smiling, he took your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue unceremoniously invading your mouth. As one hand caressed the back of your head, guiding it subtly, the other moved down your spine, pulling your body against his, the fabric of his black race suit rubbing against your exposed skin.
You were so immersed in that kiss that you hardly noticed when Toto pushed you away from the wall, leading you through the cramped room to one of the lab benches, where Petronas engineers performed tests during the sessions. Pulling his face away from yours momentarily, the team principal's hands wrapped around your waist, boosting you up and placing you on the white countertop, your legs spread wide enough for him to position himself between them. With the bottom of your dress still rucked up around your hips, you were completely exposed to him. Something told you that was exactly how he wanted you.
Toto didn't need to say a word to tell you what the next step was. Bringing your fingers to the collar of the black and red jumpsuit, you opened it, revealing the zipper, pulling it down desperately, clumsily. Biting your bottom lip, with one quick movement, you peeled the overalls from his shoulders, allowing Toto to pull his arms through the sleeves, leaving only the white fireproof undershirt he was wearing. With his hands free, he lowered the overalls even lower, exposing his fireproof underwear, the outline of his erection evident beneath the thin fabric.
Looking up at you, Toto gave you a devilish grin before pulling the last layer down, exposing his cock. The sight sent a wave of arousal through your skin that felt like an electric shock. He knew the power he had over you and your body, and he was eager to use it.
— Do you like what you see? — the team principal whispered, while his fingers wrapped around his own dick, pumping slowly.
— Yes — you said, your voice shaky.
— Do you want this? — he asked you. The light glistened on the pre-cum spread along his length — Do you want my cock, maleńka?
— Yes — you replied, pleadingly. You could feel anticipation building up in your core to the point where it was almost painful. You needed it the same way you needed air to breathe. However, Toto wasn’t making any effort to approach you, to enter you, to make you moan his name with your nails digging into his shoulders.
Instead, he remained standing in front of you, one hand stroking his cock and the other squeezing one of your thighs, keeping your legs spread and still, your pussy completely exposed to him, wetness almost oozing out of you.
In the fog of your desire, you finally realized his intentions.
Denial. This was your punishment.
— Toto…
— What do you want, maleńka? — he asked softly, his thumb circling the head of his cock — Tell me what you want.
— You…
Toto looked at you with a devilish expression.
— But, you have me. I’m right here.
— I want you inside me, fucking me like the bad girl I am.
— After what you did today, do you think you deserve my dick?
— I was working, Toto — you whimpered, almost like a child who didn’t get any dessert — I just want you. I only think about you. There is only you.
— Do you only want me? — he moved toward you now.
— Yes, yes, yes — you gasped, your muscles tensing in anticipation.
With a smile on his lips, Toto moved even closer, positioning his cock at your entrance. His lips found your jaw, placing gentle kisses going up towards your ear. You felt a shiver of anticipation run through your body. “Finally, finally, finally,” you mentally repeated, your fingers finding the back of his neck, playing with his dark hair.
But instead of the pleasure you were desperate for, you felt his tip brush against your clit, your sensitivity making you nearly sob at his subtle movements. The sound made Toto smile against your skin.
— You look so pretty like this — he murmured, nibbling at a spot below your earlobe — Completely desperate for me.
His cock continued to brush through your folds, pressing lightly against your hole. You could feel the tears of agony building up in your eyes.
— Please, please, please — you moaned, squirming at the subtle touch.
— I'll give you what you want — Toto whispered — But you have to ask for it.
— Please, I want to feel you inside me — you gasped — I need to feel you. Please please. Let me feel you.
— Fine — he said.
Slowly, you felt Toto sliding inside you with no resistance. You were beyond soaked and ready for him. However, instead of penetrating you completely, he sank just the head of his cock in and retreated almost immediately. You searched his face and found a mischievous smile.
— Toto — you stammered.
He laughed.
— You asked me to feel my cock inside you. You felt it.
Something between an incredulous laugh and an agonized groan left your lips.
“Son of a bitch”, you thought.
— You're ridiculous, Wolff — you managed to say.
— And you're not being clear about what you want.
You rolled your eyes. However, instead of slapping you again for your insolence, Toto just leaned his forehead against yours, his brown eyes glued to yours.
— Tell me what you want — Toto whispered, brushing his nose against yours — And you'll have it.
You blinked, your breath caught in your throat.
— Fuck me. Just fuck me. Please.
He smiled. Not in a mischievous or provocative way, but sincerely.
Toto had finally heard what he wanted to hear.
Positioning yourself again at your entrance, you turned your head to the side, muscles tensing. However, holding your chin, he made you look at him again.
— I'm going to fuck you like you want. But… You will have to be quiet.
A nod of your head was the signal for Toto to penetrate you immediately. Stifling a cry at the sudden sensation of him inside of you, you felt pain and pleasure mingling in your belly.
It was everything you wanted.
It didn't take long for Toto to set a delicious rhythm, causing you to dig your nails into the muscles of his shoulders beneath the fireproof shirt. You strained to keep your mouth shut, trying not to make a sound, just as he had asked. However, when he found the right spot inside you, you couldn't resist emitting low grunts and moans.
— Yes, yes, yes — you muttered, as Toto attacked your neck, biting your skin with little delicacy. There would probably be marks. There would certainly be marks. But, you couldn't care less right now. This moment was worth every extra minute you'd have to spend hiding the evidence of your affair with him.
Focused on the sensation building in your abdomen, you received a new rush of pleasure as Toto's hand left your thigh and snaked between your legs. Finding your clit, his fingers began to draw quick, indelicate circles, making you expend a Herculean effort not to scream at the top of your lungs.
— You… Aren't… That bad… Maleńka — Toto gasped, quickening the movement of his hips against yours. With your heart racing, you didn't know what to say because of the fog of pleasure that clouded your mind, making you completely lose the power of language. You pulled him by the back of his neck towards your lips, in a deep kiss, backed by the wet sound of his cock against your pussy.
Your legs contracted, as did your abdomen.
You were close.
Very close.
Too close.
Until, suddenly, Toto stopped, causing a frustrated groan to escape your lips. Pulling his face slightly away from yours, he studied your face.
— Y/N, look at me — the team principal asked, his thumb stroking your cheek.
Your eyelids fluttered, the effort to open your eyes was almost unreal.
— Who makes you feel good?
— You — you gasped, the painful sensation of your aborted orgasm coursing through your body — Only you.
Toto smiled, bringing his hand to your neck. His fingers pressed lightly against your skin, just enough pressure to let you know he was there. “As if I needed a reminder,” you thought, your fingers moving up to his wrist, begging him not to let you go.
— Good girl.
Using your neck for support, he moved roughly inside you again, his cock touching the spot you needed most with each thrust. Parting your lips in a silent scream, you felt the pressure in your abdomen start to build again, making your legs shake and your spine arch.
— Yes, yes, yes, yes — you repeated, in a thin voice, almost desperately.
Somewhere, you heard Toto grunt, pulling one of your legs to his hip. The other followed, imprisoning him against you. The hand that was on your neck went down to your core, massaging your clit again.
— I… Ah… Yes… I will — you stuttered, your nails sinking deeper and deeper into Toto's shoulders.
— This, this, this — he muttered. And it was the last thing you heard before the pressure in your abdomen exploded.
Biting your bottom lip hard to keep from screaming, you felt a tsunami of pleasure relentlessly sweep through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, your chest rising and falling with your labored breathing. Not seeing, hearing or feeling anything around you, you were completely numb.
So numb that you didn't notice Toto continuing to move inside you, the contractions of your pussy pulling him along into his own climax. He released himself inside you, the sensation of his hot cum going unnoticed as you had still not yet returned to Earth. Then, he rested his palms on the countertop on either side of your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily, completely exhausted.
For a few minutes, what you could hear inside the small laboratory was the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath. It was definitely the craziest thing you had ever done in your life, but never had something so wrong felt so right.
— That was amazing — you mumbled, eyes half closed.
— Thanks, we're always working to provide the best experience — you heard Toto say, his voice muffled by your shoulder, making you giggle weakly.
Lifting his face to you, he brushed his nose lightly against yours. It was gentle and affectionate.
— Can I clean you up?
— Yes — you smiled.
Toto pulled out of you and the small sink that was in the corner of the lab room. Taking a handful of paper towels from the dispenser mounted on the wall, he walked over to you and began to gently wipe you down. Then he helped you down from the counter and helped you pull your dress down again, trying to smooth out the various wrinkles. Then it was his turn to clean up and get dressed again, pulling the pants and overalls back up again.
— Come here — you said, signaling him to turn around. Holding the rough fabric in your hands, you helped him put his arms through the sleeves of the racing suit, fitting it around his shoulders. Turning back to face you, Toto smiled.
— Can you help me with the zipper?
— Sure — you replied, finding the tab and zipping the jumpsuit again, finishing with the collar embroidered with the AMG logo.
— Dziękuję, moja maleńka.
You smiled, guessing what he had said to you.
— I don't know how to say 'you’re welcome' in Polish.
— Well, you could say… Nie mogę się doczekać, aż znowu mnie przelecisz.
You blinked, confused
— Something tells me that wasn’t just ‘you’re welcome’.
Toto pursed his lips, trying to contain a smile.
— It may be. Polish is complicated.
— Torger — you scolded him.
— Okay, Y/N, nie ma za co is fine.
You tried to reproduce the words, the phonemes unfamiliar on your tongue. Your pronunciation was heavily accented and unclear, and it made Toto laugh.
— Close enough — Toto said, kissing you on the forehead.
Once you both were cleaned up and put back together, you started thinking about how to leave the lab room and the Mercedes garage unnoticed. After a few minutes of discussing a plan, you concluded that the best thing would be for you to return to the pit lane, while Toto would go to the motorhome. Taking a deep breath and running your fingers through his hair one last time, you were about to open the door when you felt his fingers curl around your wrist, pulling you into a kiss.
— See you tonight?
— Yes — you smiled, giving him one last peck on the lips before opening the door and disappearing down the hall.
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beautiful-belgium · 2 years
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Unknown master - Châsse de saint Remacle de Stavelot (c. 1250 - 1260)
Photography by Torsin, Jean-Louis, IRPA (1996) and Elias, Jean-Luc, IRPA (2003)
© KIK-IRPA, Brussels
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gpfansnl · 2 years
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De zaterdag in België is aangebroken! We beginnen om 13:00 uur met de derde vrije training, gevolgd door de kwalificatie om 16:00 uur. Wie denken jullie dat er vanmiddag pole gaat pakken?
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anastpaul · 27 days
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EASTER SUNDAY – The Lord is Risen! Our Lady of the Holy Cross, Basilica di Santa Croce, Rome and Memorials of the Saints - 31 March
EASTER SUNDAY – The Lord is Risen! ALLELUIA! ALLELUIA! Our Lady of the Holy Cross, Basilica di Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, Rome – 31 March:HERE:https://anastpaul.com/2021/03/31/our-lady-of-the-holy-cross-basilica-di-santa-croce-in-gerusalemme-rome-and-memorials-of-the-saints-31-march/ St AbdaSt Acacius Agathangelos of Melitene St Agigulf (Died 751) Martyr, Monk, Abbot of Stavelot, Archbishop…
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Early on the misty winter morning of Dec. 16, 1944, more than 200,000 German troops and nearly 1,000 tanks launched Adolf Hitler's last bid to reverse the ebb in his fortunes that had begun when Allied troops landed in France on D-Day. Seeking to drive to the coast of the English Channel and split the Allied armies as they had done in May 1940, the Germans struck in the Ardennes Forest, a 75-mile stretch of the front characterized by dense woods and few roads, held by four inexperienced and battle-worn American divisions stationed there for rest and seasoning. 
After a day of hard fighting, the Germans broke through the American front, surrounding most of an infantry division, seizing key crossroads, and advancing their spearheads toward the Meuse River, creating the projection that gave the battle its name. 
Stories spread of the massacre of Soldiers and civilians at Malmedy and Stavelot, of paratroopers dropping behind the lines, and of English-speaking German soldiers, disguised as Americans, capturing critical bridges, cutting communications lines, and spreading rumors. For those who had lived through 1940, the picture was all too familiar. Belgian townspeople put away their Allied flags and brought out their swastikas. Police in Paris enforced an all-night curfew. British veterans waited nervously to see how the Americans would react to a full-scale German offensive, and British generals quietly acted to safeguard the Meuse River's crossings. Even American civilians, who had thought final victory was near were sobered by the Nazi onslaught.
But this was not 1940. The supreme Allied commander, Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower rushed reinforcements to hold the shoulders of the German penetration. Within days, Lt. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. had turned his Third U.S. Army to the north and was counterattacking against the German flank. But the story of the Battle of the Bulge is above all the story of American Soldiers. Often isolated and unaware of the overall picture, they did their part to slow the Nazi advance, whether by delaying armored spearheads with obstinate defenses of vital crossroads, moving or burning critical gasoline stocks to keep them from the fuel-hungry German tanks, or coming up with questions on arcane Americana to stump possible Nazi infiltrators.
At the critical road junctions of St. Vith and Bastogne, American tankers and paratroopers fought off repeated attacks, and when the acting commander of the 101st Airborne Division in Bastogne was summoned by his German adversary to surrender, he simply responded, "Nuts!"
Within days, Patton's Third Army had relieved Bastogne, and to the north, the 2nd U.S. Armored Division stopped enemy tanks short of the Meuse River on Christmas. Through January, American troops, often wading through deep snow drifts, attacked the sides of the shrinking bulge until they had restored the front and set the stage for the final drive to victory.
Never again would Hitler be able to launch an offensive in the west on such a scale. An admiring British Prime Minister Sir Winston Churchill stated, "This is undoubtedly the greatest American battle of the war and will, I believe, be regarded as an ever-famous American victory." Indeed, in terms of participation and losses, the Battle of the Bulge is arguably the greatest battle in American military history.
(via Battle of the Bulge | The U.S. Army)
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New around here (Charles Leclerc)
Note: english is not my first language
I realised I did not have any pieces wirh Charles where the reader wasn't already in a relationship with him so there's this
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and although I'm not taking requests per se, if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so!
Tw: mention of a previous car accident (non F1 related) and injuries (does not go into too much detail)
Since you could remember yourself as a proper Formula One fan, you would always tell your father, who was the one that made you watch the races in the first place, that one day you were going to grow up and do what that lady was doing, interviewing the drivers. And soon enough, thanks to hard work, persistence and a bit of luck, you managed to land yourself a job at Sky Sports, going through all the ranks of being just an intern pushing cables and wires around and writing notes for presenters to being sat in the room waiting for your colleagues Naomi and Natalie.
"Y/N, dear, how many times have we told you that you don't need to be so tense about things?", Natalie arrived and gave you a hug, seeing how you had already scribbled a few things down on the notepad ahead of the meeting, "today is a slow day at least, because this weekend we're back in the paddock, and you're coming with us!", she cheered as Naomi made a little celebration dance. And yet you stayed stiff as a board, if you were still a little bit tense in the mornings everytime reality downed on you that you were working with your idols, no one can imagine the nervousness that installed in your core at that revelation, "I'm going to SPA with you guys?", you asked, still unsure wether you had caught it correctly, "Yes! Myself and Natalie feel like you're ready, the rest of the team think so too, so you're coming with us, you'll do a few broadcasts, show your face for a change", she chuckled. You had participated in a few races' broadcasts, giving your opinion through audio only, sitting comfortably in the studio away from the cameras, and despite live TV broadcast being your end goal, you were still unsure. "Don't worry, we'll be there, the whole team will be there too, it's going to be great!", Natalie assured you as the three of you sat down and started discussing the plan for the weekend ahead.
Arriving in Stavelot on Thursday, the day was already scheduled down to the fullest since there was a lot to report and to find out after the summer break, making you drop your personal luggage quickly in the hotel room you were staying in before heading to the track. Even though you and your father had the tradition to go to a few races every time you could, you had never been to Spa-Francorchamps, leaving you to take in the view of the and from the track in awe, "Quite spectacular, isn't it?", Natalie said from behind you, "yeah, it feels like a dream really", you mused. You started arranging everything for the next day, going over the schedule and practicing some lines for the eventual broadcasts you'd be in.
Friday morning rolled around, your alarm waking you up and making you go and get ready for the long day ahead, picking an outfit that was presentable enough for television but also comfortable, knowing how long the day would be. You arrived in the paddock, scanning your pass and making your way to the place where you would be broadcasting soon, "And today we have a new face joining us", Naomi said, "her voice should be known to all of you by now as Y/N Y/L/N has been with us for the last 8 months commenting from the studio, and before that she was writing up our guidelines, so here she is! Y/N, tell everyone a little bit of your way here!", Naomi introduced, "like you said, I have been with Sky Sports since before I even graduated, I used to apply for summer jobs and I guess they liked me enough to keep me for my internship and now my full time job! I used to go karting up until I was fourteen but due to medical reasons I had to stop", you said referring to the car accident you had that left some damage on you back that, despite not being a trouble for day to day life, made you leave karting behind, "but I've always been a fan of Formula 1 so I'm very excited to be here this weekend!", you smiled as you kept discussing the day and what you expected to see around the paddock. Wrapping up the broadcast, the team all clapped and whistled, "Congratulations on your first broadcast girl, that was amazing!", Natalie cheered before getting a group hug from everyone, "You're a natural Y/N, well done!", Naomi finished before bringing you in a hug.
The cheers caught the attention of George, Charles and Lewis, who saw that Naomi was out of broadcast and excused himself from the group, making his way to where you stood, "Naomi, hi, how are you?", he greeted her before waving at the team, "Oh Lewis, this is Y/N, she's new on the paddock team", she said as Lewis stretched his arm, your won stretching too and meeting his fistbump almost out of memory muscle, "Hi, how are you?" before the short conversation came to an end, the team now needing you in the media pen, "You'll be there too?", Lewis asked, "yeah, and be nice to her Lewis, or she'll ask mean questions", Naomi teased before bidding goodbye. Lewis Hamilton had just fistbumped you and held a casual conversation, you could not wait until your dad heard about this.
The interviews in the media pen went smoothly, and you were waiting for the last one before Free Practices began, Charles Leclerc the last name on your notepad, "Hi, I'm Y/N for Sky Sports", you began asking your questions away, waiting patiently for Charles to give his final answer before you thanked him, "You're the new one, right?", he asked you, only managing to nod before he interrupted you, "Sorry, I thought I would've recognised your face if I had seen you before, and- and I heard the cheers back in the paddock", he quickly said, not wanting to come on too weird, "yeah, it's my first time at a GP", you smiled, "Well, I hope I'll see you around, I- I- mean, hopefully it's not your last", he replied as a slight pink tiny coloured his cheeks before he excused himself to get get ready.
Saturday had a whole another atmosphere going around, more fans in the circuit and just a genuine thrill for the qualifying sessions, everyone speculating how the new changes in the cars would change the grid positions. Finishing the final broadcast of the day, you felt a tug on your pants, making you look down to find a little girl no older that 7, her light brown hair in a braid and a huge coat protecting her body from the colder weather, the sun playing the usual tricks in Belgium. "Hi, how are you? I'm Y/N", you said crouching down so you were face to face with her, "Hi, I'm Emilia and when I grow up I want to be like you", she said sweetly, making you melt inside as you looked around to see any adult that seemed to be in charge of her, "thank you Emilia, that's very kind of you! Are you here alone?", you asked her gently, "No, daddy brought me here with him, he's an engineer, look, that's him in the red t-shirt!", she pointed happily to a group of men dressed in Ferrari team member clothing, a wave from one of them being the actual only way to find who her dad was. "One day, I'm going to have a microphone and talk about the fast cars to the camera too", she beamed, looking at the one you had in your hand, and a quick look around the team prompted you to make her an offer, "Do you want to hold this one?", and the little girl squealed in excitement as her wide eyes looked at you, "really? Can I go show daddy too?", she asked and you nodded, handing it to her and following her to her father, not wanting to be responsible for broken equipment on your first day. As she was showing the microphone around the group, you heard a French accent behind you, "What do you have there, Emi?", he asked, "Charles, you're here! How do you feel about the race tomorrow? Do you think you can get in the podium?", Emilia said into the microphone before nearly shoving it in Charles' face. Earning chuckles from everyone around, the monégasque answered, "I think tomorrow will be difficult, we seem to be off the pace a little bit but we're going to see what we can do about it", he replied as if he was in a serious interview, you vaguely remembering the same answer he had given Natalie that afternoon when she asked him a similar question, "You're going to take me out of my job darling, that was very good, very well done, voice placed correctly too, maybe next time just put the microphone a but further away from his face", you smiled at the little girl as she handed you the microphone back, her father thanking you for the opportunity, "Don't think she will shut up about it now!".
The race, as always in Spa, was full of action, Max making it to the podium from the back of the grid pretty easily as you watched Charles in particular, knowing how his season had been going and paying attention to the strategies, one of the things that made you fall in love with the sport, "Did I ever tell how how much I wanted to be a strategist when I was younger? I used to borrow my cousin's laptop and draw graphs on the screen and pretend they were stats from the race, and my little cousins would be driving their toy cars around the living room", you commented earning a chuckle from Natalie, "Seems like you would do no worse that Ferrari have been", she sneered slightly, taking the opportunity that she wasn't live or reporting to discuss with you the different points of view.
After the race, you were in the media pen checking your order as you nodded over to the communication advisor next to Charles, him signaling to Charles to head your way, a tight lipped smile on his face as he felt another interviewer tug on his arm, "Oh sorry, I'll talk to you after talking to her", he said politely despite the unhappy look on the other man's face.
You had already finished your interviews for the weekend and were now helping the team gather the equipment, making sure that nothing was left behind when you heard your name being called, "Ah, Y/N, you're still here!", Charles said, approaching you as you zipped the last camera bag and handed it to your colleague, "So, how was your first GP as an interviewer? How do you rate the experience?", he asked and you stood still for what felt like an eternity to Charles. Maybe it was weird for him to come back here, maybe he shouldn't have listened to Carlos when he said he had nothing to lose in checking if you were there still, until you spoke, "Oh, it's like I expected it to be, so tiring but so worth it! The atmosphere is so different from just being a fan out there, watching everything happen up close, truly the best thing ever", you exclaimed, the crinkles around your eyes more visible since your smile was the biggest it had ever been, making Charles' heart flip for a second. "Well, why don't we make it even better and swap numbers so we can have dinner when you get to Monza?", Charles tempted, knowing that worst case scenario he would get a no and would have to run away from you for the rest of his career, a small price he would have to pay for at least trying. Smiling at him, you took your phone out of your pants' pocket, handing it to him, "I'd like that very much", you said shyly as he gave you his phone, writing your number down and smiling at the prospect.
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racehalos · 2 years
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FORMULA 1 2022 BELGIAN GRAND PRIX Stavelot, Belgium summer in spa
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usermarquez-moved · 2 years
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STAVELOT, 2022 – JACK DOOHAN on the podium after winning his first Formula 2 feature race at Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps during the 2022 Belgian Grand Prix.
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