The Sweetest - Blog Posts

hello, here’s a rayemma dump no one asked for. life: stressful. drawing self indulgent art of ur faves napping over and over again: therapeutic

Once again I end a game feeling like a completely changed person

forever and always thinking of that one video where the Stones were taking turns kissing a girl on the forehead for the press and they asked Charlie to do it and he shook his head and said “love is a much more deeper thing than that. it’s not flippant to be sold away on the celluloid.”

racing heart

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary : Y/N is determined to prove she’s got the skills to take on Lando’s karting challenge, but Lando’s protective instincts go into overdrive. Despite her insistence that she’s fine, Lando can’t help but fuss over every little detail, from her seatbelt to her speed, unable to hide his concern.

Words : 2.1k

Warnings : some swearing, small crash.

— (tbh I wrote this one half-asleep, not my favourite but here you guys go!)

As soon as Y/N watched Quadrant’s new video with Keegan Palmer, she was immediately determined to try the challenge herself. Almost without fail, she’d been pestering Lando to let her have a go. But ever the protective boyfriend, Lando wasn’t so easily convinced.

The four sat around the table, waiting for their lunch to arrive—Max and Lando deep in their own conversation, while Pietra and Y/N chatted away. It wasn’t until Pietra reached over to grab Max’s hand, catching his attention, that the table suddenly fell silent.

“Y/N has a question for you,” Pietra starts, a grin already spreading across her face.

“Oh, here we go,” Lando sighs, reaching for his glass to take a sip, already knowing exactly what’s coming.

“What?” Max asks, confusion written all over his face as he glances between his girlfriend, his friend, and Y/N—all of whom are wearing entirely different expressions.

Lando sets his glass down with a knowing look. “She’s about to try and get you on board with letting her do the karting challenge we did with Keegan.”

"That sounds sick actually—"

“Right?!” Y/N interrupts excitedly, eyes practically glowing with joy.

“No,” Lando says firmly, shaking his head.

“Mate, we’ve gone karting with Y/N before,” Max points out.

“Yeah, indoors—and those karts weren’t that fast,” Lando argues, trying to reason with him.

“Lan, please, it looks so fun,” Y/N pleads, leaning in.

“Baby, no—”

“Lando, you go over 200 miles per hour, and Y/N never says a word about it,” Pietra cuts in, backing her friend up without hesitation.

“That’s different, P… Max wouldn’t let you do it either,” Lando huffs, turning to Max for support.

“I would, actually.”

“Lando, please,” Y/N presses, eyes wide with excitement. “You and Max would be there to teach me! I’ll be safe, I promise. We can even—”

“—Fine! Fine, alright,” Lando finally caves, running a hand through his hair, already regretting his decision.

“We’re filming this, right?” Max smirks, barely holding back his laughter.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

At the same track where they did the last challenge, Max holds the camera, zooming in on his friends standing near the circuit. Both Y/N and Lando are dressed in fireproofs, helmets in hand. Lando gestures animatedly as he talks, the mic picking up his voice as he explains the racing lines and braking points to Y/N, who listens intently.

Max moves closer, camera still in hand, ready for a quick interview. “How you feelin’, Y/N?”

Y/N turns to the camera with a big grin, giving a small wave. “So excited.”

“Lando?” Max pans to his friend.

“I’m gonna shit myself”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Baby, you’re a walking hazard.”

“That’s true, actually.” Max briefly turns the camera on himself, giving a small nod of agreement.

“Guys—no, remember Silverstone last year?” Lando points accusingly. “Y/N showed up with her arm in a sling because she missed the bed while trying to jump onto it and landed straight on her shoulder.”

"That's different—"

“—Alright! So you already know what’s about to happen,” Max says, handing off the camera before stepping between his two friends, slinging an arm around each of them. “Lando’s gonna set a lap time, and Y/N will get a shot with different karts—one faster than the other to see if she can beat him.”

The camera zooms in on Lando’s face, his expression a mix of nerves and dread, clearly uncomfortable.

“Mate, you look ill.”

“I will be after this,” Lando chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood.

“She’ll be fine. C’mon, go ahead. We’ll be up there watching,” Max laughs, giving his friend a pat on the back. “I’ll make sure to give her tips as you go.”

"Oi, excuse me? Hold on a minute! Where's my kiss?" Lando pouts, feigning offense. "I can’t believe you’re not being sweeter to me after I agreed to do this."

Y/N halts, throwing her head back and laughing. "Sorry! Just really excited." She jogs back towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Have fun, be safe."

You could almost see Lando's body relax—maybe for the first time all day—as he holds her face with his free hand and gives her a soft kiss. "You're lucky I love you," he mutters against her lips. "Go on then, let me get the job done." He chuckles, ruffling her hair before turning to walk toward the kart.

---------------------------------------------------------------

As Lando takes his warm-up lap, Y/N can be seen sitting beside Max, listening intently as he gives her pointers. Max talks her through the track, explaining the braking points and the tricky corners she needs to watch out for, doing his best to guide her through every detail. Y/N nods along, fully focused, ready to take on the challenge.

"Unbelievable” Max muttered with a scoff.

“What?” Y/N, concerned, turned to Max.

“He’s going slow on purpose.”

“No way…”

“He’s already two seconds behind the lap time he set last time we did the challenge.”

“He clearly doesn’t want me on the faster karts then” Y/N slouched in her seat, deflated.

Max nodded, grabbing his radio to speak to Lando. “Mate, you have to do one more. The clock wasn’t working properly, sorry.”

“Copy,” Lando replied, completely unaware that his girlfriend and best friend had caught on to his little trick.

Lando took one more lap, and it was even slower than the previous three. The two of them walked over to the track to greet him.

“How was that?” Lando asked, pulling off his helmet with a grin.

“Yeah, no, mate—no chance,” Max said, shaking his head. “You were going slow on purpose.”

"No I wasn't!" Lando immediately shouts in defense

"I'm setting the lap time," Max says, handing over the stopwatch to Lando before heading back into the building to grab his own helmet.

Y/N stands with her arms crossed, staring at her boyfriend with a look of clear disapproval.

"Oh, come on, baby," Lando chuckles softly, stepping toward her and pulling her into his arms. "You can’t be mad at me."

Just then, Max walks back out, helmet on, heading toward the kart. "Alright, lovebirds, enough with the mushy stuff," he teases with a grin.

"Max I swear—"

Y/N tugs on Lando's arm, dragging him to where her and Max were previously sat, leaving Max to get to his kart "Goodluck Maxie! Fast and safe yeah?"

"Always"

--------------------------------------------------------------------

As expected, Max set a solid lap time, one that left both Lando and Y/N chasing after it. The three of them were all significantly faster than any of Lando's previous attempts, creating the perfect challenge for Y/N to take on and hopefully beat.

The scene cuts to the three of them back on track, with Max standing off to the side, a sheepish grin on his face as he watches Lando double, triple, and maybe even quadruple-check every little thing while Y/N sits in the kart.

"Mate, at this point, you’ve checked her seatbelt so many times, I’m pretty sure it’s been inspected more than your car before a race," Max laughs, shaking his head. "You planning to give her a full service next?"

Lando lets out a sigh. "Hey, better safe than sorry," he says, tugging on the straps for what feels like the hundredth time.

Max chuckles. "At this rate, she’s gonna need a nap after all your—"

Y/N, fully embracing the teasing, drops her head forward and lets out exaggerated snoring noises. "Oh— and she's down," Max laughs, enjoying the moment.

Lando rolls his eyes and shakes his head, his focus not breaking as he checks the brakes one last time. He leans in to gently lift her head, making sure she looks at him.

"Don’t push yourself beyond what you're comfortable with," he says, his tone serious but soft. "If at any point you want to stop, just let us know. And if anything feels off—"

"I know, baby," Y/N interrupts with a playful smile, brushing him off. "I’ll be fine. You worry too much."

Lando gives her a soft smile before planting a quick kiss on the top of her helmet, then gives her a light tap on the side before starting her kart.

"Okay, let’s go, lover boy. Drive fast, Y/N!" Max teases, already dragging Lando off the track.

"I will!" Y/N calls back, already revving the engine.

Lando pauses, his voice rising as he watches her take off. "Safely, baby, please! Drive safely!" He shouts after her, hands still hovering nervously at his sides.

Max smirks. "You're really gonna keep yelling at her like that from the sidelines?"

"I've only got one of her, I’ve got the right to worry," Lando mutters, but a smile creeps onto his face.

----------------------------------------------------------

The challenge was going smoothly, with Y/N only a couple of seconds off the target lap time on her first attempt. By her third kart, she finally beat it by just tenths of a second. However, that didn’t stop her from wanting to try out the fastest kart they had available, much to Lando’s frustration.

"Baby, you’re already faster than the rest of us. Why do you need to go any faster?" Lando groans, running a hand through his hair as she approaches the kart.

Y/N grins mischievously, her competitive spirit clearly not satisfied yet. "Because I can. Besides, I’m just warming up," she teases, hopping into the sleek, speedier kart.

The first lap went perfectly, with Y/N letting out shouts of joy as she sped through the track. Lando and Max watched from the sidelines, impressed by how well she was handling the kart, both commenting on how fast and smooth she was. However, by the fourth turn of her second lap, they began to notice a change. Y/N’s arms were starting to give out. She was struggling to keep the kart under control, her once-smooth movements becoming more jerky with each turn.

Lando immediately grabs the radio, his voice laced with concern. "Y/N, love, you’ve gotta slow down now, alright? Your arms are giving out a little, you’re gonna go off track."

Lando watches anxiously, his fingers gripping the radio tightly, waiting for her response. Before he can radio her again, he sees Y/N miss the braking point, her kart spinning out and slamming into one of the barriers on the turn.

Both Lando and Max jolt up from their seats, the panic flashing in their eyes. Lando grabs the radio and bolts down the track, Max following closely behind. Their feet pound against the ground as they rush toward where she’s spun out.

"I'm okay. Just dizzy from the spin," Y/N's voice crackles through the radio, making Max stop in his tracks and squat down on the spot, letting out a relieved breath.

Lando, however, doesn’t slow down. He keeps sprinting toward where she’s stopped, his heart racing as he sees her starting to get out of the kart.

Max, noticing her movement, immediately grabs the radio. "Hey— no. Y/N, slow down. Wait ‘til we get to you. Lando's nearly there, sit tight."

Lando’s feet hit the track faster, his worry growing with every step as he sees Y/N trying to move. He reaches her in no time, dropping to his knees beside her. With quick, precise movements, he removes her helmet, immediately inspecting her for any signs of injury.

"What's hurting? Are you okay? What hurts?" His voice is frantic, eyes scanning her for any sign of damage.

Y/N shakes her head, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Lan... I'm okay. It wasn’t that bad, really. Just felt like a soft bump to the side. I’m feeling peachy, I promise. Just... embarrassed is all," she admits, a hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Fuck me... Right, we're done for today. C’mon." Lando pulls her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before gently helping her out of the kart.

Max, still out of breath, finally catches up to them. "You good, Y/N?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Still in one piece," Y/N laughs, giving a thumbs-up, earning a facepalm from Lando.

"That looked really bad from where we were," Max says, looking at the kart, then back at her with concern still lingering in his eyes.

Lando shoots him a look. "Yeah, thanks for the commentary, Max. We’re all fine now, though." He turns his attention back to Y/N, making sure she’s steady on her feet. "Let’s get you checked out properly, just in case."

The three make their way back to the building, with Lando softly checking in on Y/N, making sure she’s still feeling alright after the spin. Their light chatter fills the air as Max trails behind, looking at the pair with a sheepish grin.

"So, uh... we’re keeping this on the video, right?" Max asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lando glances over at him "You muppet"

Y/N smirks, giving Max a playful nudge. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind. They live for drama."

Lando groans, but a grin tugs at his lips. "You're both impossible."

not what it looks like ⛐ 𝐆𝐑𝟔𝟑

george has a soft spot for you. (or: the one where the media goes crazy because george is... snacking?)

ꔮ starring: george russell x girlfriend!reader. ꔮ word count: 0.6k. ꔮ includes: fluff, romance. mentions of food. established relationship. ꔮ commentary box: i suppose this is a thing now </3 part of my soft spot mini-series! inspired by george in this video. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It’s been a while since the paddock has been this intrigued. 

A rather big feat, considering the nature of the sport. F1 thrived on drama and excitement, preyed on moments of humanity and weakness. Today, though, it’s not anything on-track that has everyone buzzing. 

No. It’s just— George Russell with a bag of chips. 

Cameras click away. Reporters rush to pull up receipts. They’re all thinking of an interview from way back, where the driver had answered a slambook question of What’s your top three snacks? in typical George fashion. 

I’ll go with fruit, he had declared. I’m an athlete. I don’t snack on chocolate, no. Like… would an athlete snack on chocolate? 

No one had bat an eye, then, because of course the Briton would say something along those lines. Today, though, the clickbait headlines write themselves. 

George is snacking. Not only on chips, an eagle-eyed journo notes. He’s got a whole plastic bag in hand, presumably from the 7-Eleven down the road. 

Kimi is understandably confused when a reporter tries to interview him about it. 

“It’s just a snack, no?” the rookie stammers. “Are we— are the Pringles banned on the track?” 

George is unsurprisingly questioned as well. It comes as he’s heading out of the garage home; some nosy columnist calling out, “Russell! Bit hypocritical, innit?” 

The driver doesn’t stop walking, forcing the media personnel to keep up with his quick pace. He’s mastered the art of keeping his expression checked, so his expression is mostly neutral— dry, even— as he responds. 

“What is it this time?” George huffs. 

In his head, he’s already running through the day’s practice session. Did he make some comment on the radio? Was it something about track limits? Or—

“You’ve got crisps,” a journalist accuses, “and chocolate.” 

It’s so stupid. So unbelievably minor in the grand scheme of the impending race weekend. If he hadn’t been caught so off-guard, George might have sniped at the reporters to try and ask better questions. Surely there was something more interesting than his grocery list. 

George is jolted, though. Enough to falter in his steps and stare incredulously at the wolf pack of journalists, all clamoring for a soundbite. 

He ends up giving them one. “It’s—” He breathes a disbelieving laugh. “It’s not what it looks like.” 

The surrounding reporters erupt into a flurry of pointless follow-ups. “What happened to your body being a temple, George?” “Bit of a cheat day, innit?” “How do you like your chocolate? Dark, milk, white?” 

Another laugh bubbles out of George. He ignores all the questions and heads for his car, already weaving the story in his mind.

That’s why the tale is just a little bit dramatized, by the time he gets to you. He had an entire ride to come up with it after all. 

“They were brutal out there,” he bemoans as he tosses the offending plastic bag of goods onto the coffee table. “Calling me a hypocrite. Claiming that I’m not an athlete because I was caught with this!” 

You let out a sound between a scoff and a giggle. It doesn’t matter which, really, when the underlying affection is all the same. 

“My poor baby,” you coo, “and the lengths you go through for little ol’ me.” 

George plops down on to the couch as you lean over to survey his purchases. It’s everything you would’ve asked for; all your cravings that you’ve been too busy to indulge. 

Your boyfriend pulls your legs on to his lap. Absent-mindedly, he rubs circles into your ankle as you happily tear open one of the chocolate bars. 

“The lengths I go through,” he repeats, aiming to sound annoyed and valiant. Instead, he comes off as smitten. Whipped. 

George still doesn’t like to eat much chocolate. 

He gets his fair share of it whenever you lean in to kiss him, your lips sweet as the guilty pleasure that you liked to indulge. 

“Thank you,” you murmur against his mouth, and he hums in response before going in for another kiss. 

Just for a taste, he swears. ⛐