Was Gone For A Bit But I’m Back!

max verstappen (community service) 🤝 kevin magnussen (race ban)

charles leclerc (saying fia has other things to prioritize and swearing on radio first chance he got) 🤝 nico hulkenberg (saying kevin's race ban wasn't justified)

lestappen 🤝 haasbands: having a common enemy (the fia)

I need to get this off my chest because WHAT BUSINESS DO FRANCO STANS HAVE GOING OFF BULLYING JACK UNDER EVERY ALPINE POST AND ON HIS OWN ACCOUNT. AND THEN HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THEY DONT BULLY ANYONE BRO…

I don’t hate franco but his stans make me hate him and him not doing anything about it nor alpine makes me even more angry. Yall are enabling your fans to act like that. And they destroy their own and Francos image. Because there are so many franco fans who don’t agree with the stans.

I’ve been crashing out over this for WEEKS and the final straw were franco fans bullying a jack fan under A JACK POST. THIS IS HOW FAR IT HAS COME AT THE MOMENT.

Hehe

About them individually:

F1 memes 🖤Haasbands/Hulknussen♥️ edition

Someday I will figure out how to write a classic F1 fic where everyone is under a curse to tell the truth but it takes ages to figure out what's happening because Niki is affected first and no one notices anything is wrong.

"but if it was happening in championship order, Niki would have been first, and he's fine!"

*extremely long pause*

*everyone's head turns to Niki*

*Niki is eating a yoghurt*

*Niki keeps eating his yoghurt*

*everyone stares*

"Why are you all staring at me? You look like stupid assholes."

*resumes eating yoghurt*

*realisation dawns*

Breaking Point - Valewis FF

Valewis fic i talked about earlier!

Won't be able to finish it today but decided to post the first part of it anyway! Please read the warning!!!!

TW/CW: eating disorder, Vomiting

And as always: Any mistakes please ignore or let me know. Thank you!

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Valtteri sat at the long table, the buzz of voices around him fading into a blur. The air in the meeting room was heavy with the usual technical jargon, the upcoming race strategy, tire choices, and performance analysis, but none of it sank in. Valtteri was staring blankly at the figures flashing across the screen. The lights where too bright, and the words spoken by the engineers and team principal felt distant.

He hadn’t eaten properly in days, and his body felt it. The tight knot in his stomach was a familiar companion now, gnawing at him relentlessly. The hunger was always there, but the idea of eating, of trying to force food down when everything inside him felt twisted and wrong, seemed impossible.

At least he was weighting less than Lewis now.

His chest tightened as the pressure built inside, a familiar gnawing feeling creeping in. No matter how hard he pushed, how much he trained, it never felt like enough. The weight of never being enough—never quite living up to the expectations, to the dominance of his teammate, Lewis—sat on his shoulders like an unbearable burden. He had been struggling with this for months—long, agonizing months of trying to control something that seemed so utterly out of control.

He was drowning in it, struggling to stay afloat.

But it's his own fault, no? It's what he signed up for all those years ago. Valtteri should be used to it by now. It was part of the deal.

He glanced at Lewis across the table, the man who made everything seem effortless. Lewis, always calm, always composed, with a confidence Valtteri could never seem to find in himself. His thoughts raced, louder than the voices around him.

It's not his fault. I just need to be better. Why can’t I be better?

The room felt smaller.

His palms grew damp with sweat, and his pulse quickened.

His stomach churned, a twisting pain that had become all too familiar. The pressure of racing, of constantly being compared to Lewis, of always feeling second-best, had chipped away at him. The pressure had seeped into every part of his life, his mind a relentless critic.

He could feel the room spinning. His throat tightened, and he knew if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer. He needed to get back into control. Quietly, almost cautiously, he rose from his seat, quickly moving toward the door. His legs felt shaky beneath him, but he forced himself to walk, head down, hoping no one would notice. No one usually did, after all.

Of course they don’t care.

He headed down the hallway, heart pounding in his chest, his footsteps growing faster as he neared the stairs leading up to his Room, a place where he could break down in peace. But his body betrayed him. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

The nausea surged, and he darted into the nearest restroom. Slamming the door behind him, he fell to his knees, hunching over the toilet. His whole body trembled as he gagged, trying to keep what little food he had managed to eat earlier from coming up.

---

Lewis had noticed.

He always noticed when Valtteri disappeared. He had been watching him for weeks—how his mood shifted, how his energy seemed depleted, how his once hearty laughter had dwindled into almost nothing. At first, he thought it was just the stress of the season, but there was something more, something darker lurking beneath the surface.

It wasn’t until he saw Valtteri’s hunched shoulders hastily leaving the room that a sinking feeling settled in his gut.

Lewis followed.

---

Valtteri knelt on the cold floor of the small bathroom, his hands gripping the porcelain edge of the toilet. His body trembled, the shame of what he was doing hitting him in waves, but it was the only way he felt in control. He hated it. He hated himself for it. But he couldn't stop.

He felt utterly alone in that moment, as he always had in the shadows of the team. But then, through the haze of sickness and shame, he heard the door creak open.

"Valtteri?" Not now. Not him. It was Lewis. Of course, it was Lewis.

His chest ached, too late to hide, too late to pretend everything was okay. He heaved, gagging as his body rejected the little food he had forced himself to eat earlier, his body convulsing as he struggled to breathe between violent retches.

"Go away," Valtteri choked out, his voice hoarse. His knuckles turning white from the force he held onto the porcelain with. He heaved again, his body shuddering as another wave of nausea hit.

Lewis stood frozen in the doorway. His breath hitched at the sight before him. Valtteri, the strong, composed teammate he had always admired, was hunched over in a position that spoke of agony and desperation. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"Valtteri…" Lewis's voice was a whisper, filled with concern but to Valtteri, it felt like a stab to the gut.

Valtteri lifted his head but didn't turn around. He couldn't. He couldn’t face this—couldn’t face Lewis. Not now, not like this. His eyes were wide, chest tight, as if even breathing hurt. He wanted to tell him to leave, to walk away and pretend he hadn’t seen any of this. But the words caught in his throat, choked by the raw shame and exhaustion.

He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself, to act like it wasn’t what it looked like. But it was. He knew it, and Lewis knew it too. He couldn’­­t help it. His body trembled as he hunched over the bowl once more, dry heaving, retching with nothing left to give. His stomach was painfully empty, but still, he gagged, his throat burning from the bile coming up in harsh waves.

Lewis stepped forward, the weight of the moment hanging between them like a thick fog. "Val, what—" Valtteri could feel the concern radiating off him, but he couldn’t bear it.

His body was still shaking, and he could feel Lewis’s presence close behind him. Why did he follow me? He had always tried so hard and managed to hide it before, always kept this side of himself locked away. He couldn’t bear for anyone, especially Lewis, to see him like this.

"Don't," Valtteri cut him off, his voice hoarse, raw from the strain. He didn’t want Lewis to see him like this, vulnerable, broken. "Please, Lewis, just-" His body convulsed, another dry heave shaking him as more bile rose in his throat. He gagged, coughing, the sound echoing in the small restroom. His whole body ached, exhausted from fighting this battle for so long.

"Just… go," Valtteri croaked, his voice ragged, barely audible "please."

F1 x Neon Genesis Evangelion AU

I did something

In this world, the Formula 1 teams are not just racing squads but organizations tasked with defending humanity against existential threats. Instead of cars, each team developed its own Evangelion Unit, with the drivers chosen as pilots due to their ability to push machines to their limits. The championship is no longer a simple competition—it’s a war for humanity’s survival.

Instead of NERV, the organization overseeing the Evas is FIA (Foundation for Interdimensional Annihilation), a coalition of rival racing teams forced to work together against an unknown enemy: the Seraphs, biomechanical monstrosities threatening Earth.

The battle strategy remains the same: synchronization with the pilot is crucial, teamwork is rare, and catastrophic failures are inevitable.

Basic Plot points:

• The Seraphs start attacking major cities, and only the Evangelions can stop them. The FIA forces the teams to work together, but internal rivalries make unity nearly impossible.

• Max’s Eva goes berserk during a mission, nearly killing his teammates. This sparks fears about the uncontrollable power of the Evas.

• Ocon and Gasly’s rivalry nearly gets them killed, forcing them into an uneasy truce.

• Alonso survives an impossible battle, proving he’s essentially immortal at this point.

• Williams pulls off a miracle victory, with Albon proving why he deserves a better machine. Logan barely survives his first real battle, questioning whether he belongs.

• Yuki & Daniel’s Eva gets destroyed in battle, leaving them stranded. They have to fight off a Seraph using only basic weapons until reinforcements arrive.

• Charles experiences a mind-breaking synchronization event, leading to visions of a hidden truth about the Evas.

• The Final Showdown: The truth about the Seraphs’ origins is revealed—perhaps the Evas themselves are part of the problem. The grid must unite to stop the FIA from making a catastrophic mistake, but tensions run high.

Bonus: Commentary

• “Oh! OH! Verstappen has gone Berserk Mode! Again! That’s not what we wanted to see right now!”

• “Meanwhile, Alonso is STILL ALIVE! We don’t know how, but he’s still here!”

• “And Haas’ Eva is… somehow held together with duct tape?!”

• “Ocon and Gasly are fighting again! No, not the enemy—they’re fighting each other!”

• “Williams’ Eva is still holding together with nothing but sheer willpower at this point!”

• “Yuki is charging in alone! Someone stop him—no, wait, never mind, it actually worked?!”

Another angsty Launt ficlet with an open (not so happy) ending

Longer than the previous snippets but filled with angst to the brim. Maybe I’ll expand it a bit and give them a happy end since I’m really not that satisfied with this version so far.

Anyways I’d love to know what you guys think of it and I hope you enjoy!

“Niki!” James’s voice was a whip crack through the pits, causing multiple heads to turn. Niki looked up, his expression hardening as he met James’s furious gaze.

“What is it, James?” Niki asked, his voice cool and detached.

James’s fists were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “You know damn well what this is about. Your team’s pathetic act of getting me disqualified. You couldn’t beat me on the track, so you had to get rid of me some other ratty way? That’s a fucking coward’s move.”

Niki’s eyes narrowed. “Cowardly? Your car didn’t meet the regulations. We followed the rules, and the officials agreed. If anyone’s to blame, it’s your own team for not building a legal car. But it's easier to blame others than admit you fucked up, huh?.”

James took a step closer, his voice rising with every word. “Don’t give me that technicality bullshit, Lauda. Just because you drive a Ferrari, you think you know everything! You and Ferrari couldn’t handle losing, so you took the cheap way out. You’ve always been obsessed with winning, but this? This is a new low. Even for you”

Niki stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “We played by the book, James. Racing isn’t just about driving fast; it’s about discipline, precision, strategy. Qualities you clearly lack.”

James laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Discipline? Strategy? You’re so wrapped up in your calculations that you’ve forgotten what it means to really race. To feel the car, to embrace the danger. I should’ve listened to the others. You’re a machine, Niki. A cold, unfeeling machine.” He looked down at the German with a mocking scoff “I don’t even know why I called a backstabbing, ugly little Rat like you my friend.”

The words hit Niki like a slap, but he kept his composure. “And you’re a reckless fool. You risk your life and everyone else’s for the sake of your ego. You don’t respect the car, the track, or the people who depend on you. You’re so busy being the charming playboy that you don’t care who you hurt along the way.”

James’s eyes blazed with fury as he stepped closer to Lauda. “At least I’m living, Niki. At least I’m not hiding behind a wall of fear and rules. You’re scared. Scared of losing, scared of taking risks, scared of really living. Face it, rat. You’re nothing but a coward.”

Niki’s vision blurred, his emotions a mess of hurt and and anger, and he's pushing James away from him before he's actually even realized his arms were moving. “You think I don’t know fear?” he said, his voice shaking and his eyes not daring to meet the Brit’s. “I live with it every day. But I don’t let it control me. I use it to make me better, to make me smarter. That’s what keeps me alive.”

"Coward." James repeats, trying to slap Niki’a arms away. "You can't even look me in the eye." Niki shoves him back with a force that surprised them both and there's a glint in James’ eyes. "You gonna hit me? Is this how you sort out your fights? Punch them in the face and walk away, Rat, Mr Robot and no fucking emotion at all? No. You’re weak. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man and a driver-"

"Shut up!" Niki screams. He's shaking, on one hand he wants to cry, on the other actually plant his fist in the smug grin of the Brit but he knew he wouldn’t stand a real chance in a physical fight with Hunt. He's stepping back from James, his voice trembling as he tries to speak, "If you hate me so much then just leave me alone! I don't need you, just fuck off for all I care." The tears that welled up in his eyes finally spilling.

"Are you crying?" James laughs incredulously. “Oh, poor Niki,” he mocked. “Always the victim, always playing the martyr. You’re pathetic.”

Niki couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, the fury, the shame—all of it boiled over in an instant. With a choked sound, he pulled away, turning and walking swiftly out of the garage, ignoring the startled looks of the mechanics and team members.

Simi!

And again it’s dramatic hurt and angst (kinda) but they are happy (but bruised) in the end I promise.

I wrote this at 4am and haven’t proofread it but I’m sharing it anyway bc I love y’all.

Hope you enjoy my mindless drabbles!

And quick disclaimer: this Drabble contains depictions of a crash and light wounds. The content is purely fictional and this crash did not happen irl

It happened so quickly. Kimi doesn’t even remember stopping his car. He still feels how his heart stopped when he ran towards the crash. As he was sitting in the hospital he looked down at his bandaged arms before leaning back against the wall with a deep sigh. The events that had happened only a few hours ago replaying behind closed eyes:

Approaching the upcoming turn, Kimi saw Sebastian's car twitch violently, the rear tires losing grip on the unforgiving asphalt. The Ferrari spun out of control, veering sharply and slamming into the barriers with a deafening crash.

Time seemed to slow as Kimi's heart lurched in his chest. His breath caught, his pulse thundering in his ears. The sickening sound of metal crunching and the sight of Sebastian's car crumpling like a soda can filled him with a dread he had never known. His instincts took over, and he eased off the accelerator, his mind solely focused on his best friend.

"Kimi, maintain your position! Are you hearing us? Maintain position!" A voice barked over the radio, but Kimi barely registered it. He pulled his car to the side of the track, ignoring the frantic commands blaring in his ear.

Fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins, Kimi vaulted out of his cockpit and sprinted towards the crash site. The acrid smell of burning rubber and the sight of the smoking wreckage fueled his desperation. He pushed past marshals and safety personnel, his usually calm demeanor shattered by raw panic.

"Sebastian! Seb!" Kimi shouted, his voice strained with fear. He reached the car, the twisted metal and shattered carbon fiber a horrific sight. The medics were trying to extract Sebastian, but Kimi couldn't stand by and watch. Without wasting any more time on useless thoughts, he dove in, heedless of the jagged debris that tore at his suit and skin.

Ignoring the searing pain in his arm where a piece of sharp metal had gouged him, Kimi focused on freeing Sebastian. He grabbed the edge of the cockpit, his hands slipping on the slick surface as he pulled with all his strength.

"Seb, can you hear me? Stay with me!" Kimi's voice cracked with emotion, his vision blurring as sweat and tears mingled on his face. He could see Sebastian's eyes flicker behind his visor, a small, dazed movement that gave Kimi the strength to keep going.

Suddenly, flames erupted from the rear of the car, licking hungrily at the exposed fuel lines. The sight of the fire caused his breathing to stop and despite the growing heat Kimi’s body went cold with fear. Sharp edges of broken carbon fiber and metal cutting through his gloves and skin. Kimi’s hands, now bloodied and trembling, fumbled with the buckles and straps of Sebastian’s harness.

He pulled with all his might, finally yanking Sebastian free from the smoldering wreckage. With a final, adrenaline-fueled burst of energy, he dragged Sebastian away from the car, just as the fire engulfed it completely.

As safety crews finally extinguished the flames and lifted Sebastian onto the stretcher, Kimi’s vision blurred from exhaustion and pain as he collapsed to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Blood trickled down his arm, the pain a distant echo compared to the relief flooding his system.

"Kimi, there is a second ambulance arriving shortly for you but we need to get Sebastian to the hospital right now” one of the medics said firmly, but Kimi shook his head, his bloody hand clutching Sebastian's gloved fingers.

"I'm coming with you, I’m not leaving him" Kimi insisted, his voice a determined rasp. The medics relented, allowing him to sit beside the stretcher as they hurried to the hospital simply because they couldn’t waste any time.

Inside the hospital, the chaos of the track seemed a world away. Kimi hovered near Sebastian, his injured arm throbbing but his attention solely on his teammate. He watched as the medics assessed Sebastian, telling doctors to fuck off and concentrate on Seb whenever they tried to assess Kimi’s wounds as well.

The tension in his body slowly easing as they confirmed that Sebastian was shaken and bruised but largely unhurt. Only then he allowed the doctors to treat his cuts as well.

Sebastian turned his head, his eyes finding Kimi's. "You look worse than I do," he murmured, a weak smile playing on his lips.

Kimi let out a shaky breath, a smile of his own breaking through the worry. "Just making sure you’re okay, Seb" he replied, his voice thick with relief.

In that moment, surrounded by the beeping monitors and hushed activity of the medical team, Kimi Räikkönen, the unflappable Iceman, felt the warmth of his emotions thaw his usual reserve. He had risked everything to be there for Sebastian, and as he held Sebastian’s hand, he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Possessive.

Black cat Lance x Snow Leopard Fernando because im insane