#Character: Nico Rosberg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doromoni · 22 days

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Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 1. Part 2 : When all had fallen

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warnings : Morally Grey Characters

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious.

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You remember 2015 as if it was tattooed to your brain. This was the year when cracks had started to appear in the Mercedes motorhome.

From an outsider’s perspective, it was all victories and celebrations — through what appears to be years of dominance ahead. However, destruction and chaos loomed between the walls of the 2 garages. The dispute between the drivers is growing gnarly and what was supposed to be kept on track was seeping into the personal lives of the people involved.

Lewis and Nico were ready to slit each other’s throats when given the permission and command. Moreover, the management did not give a damn about the rapidly growing hostility, for as long as one of them won . No, Mercedes didn’t care. And you saw how it affected not only the drivers , but the entire pit.

A person cannot forget a lifetime’s worth of friendship that easily. You saw it with your own two eyes , how the loss of friendship killed a part of Lewis and all you could do was sit there and pull him close into your embrace.

Paranoia had started to claw its way into Lewis’ mind; wondering if his teammate and Mercedes were teaming up against him.

You could do nothing to help, because you were going through the same exact thing. Not as Lewis’ partner, but as his race engineer. You cannot lie to yourself, and most importantly you cannot lie to Lewis and say that no dirty cards were drawn — because you know for a fact that several team calls were given without your knowledge or permission that had led to losses and misjudgments. You cannot deny foul play … not when Monaco 2015 happened.

“Lewis, you have a 21-second gap on Rosberg. Tires are good, keep that pace” You radioed towards Lewis as you monitored the data on the car.

“Copy, what lap are we? “ Lewis radioed back

“Lap 64, Lap 64 of 78. Keep your head down, A race win is projected, I repeat, a race win is a project— RED FLAG, RED FLAG! ” Just as you were talking, the signal for a red flag had lit and you and your team were informed of a crash.

Quickly gathering the information, you rallied it towards Lewis.

“Slow the car down, Red Flag, Red Flag. A safety car is deployed. Lewis , lay low and keep those tyres warm” You mentally cursed as what appeared to be a 21-second advantage for Lewis was no longer there.

“What happened?” Lewis questioned

“Verstappen and Grosjean touched on turn 1. Verstappen is out. “ You echoed

“Fuck! My pace was good. Are they ok though? Who was at fault?”

“I will get back on that, the stewards are now discussing” you replied.

Your eyes were focused on the data that was on your screen when suddenly at the corner of your eye you saw an engineer discretely say something to Bonno.

A look of apprehension clouded his features. And he sent you a look of remorse as he pressed what seems to be your mic connection to Lewis’ car. Horror ate your entire being as you realized what was about to happen.

Before you could do anything else, Bonno had radioed to Lewis.

“BOX, BOX “

Your world froze entirely, as absolute terror gave you whiplash. Rage consumed you and you stood from your chair not caring for the mess you’re making as you made your way towards Bonno and gripping his polo forcefully towards your height.

“HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!” You screamed at Him, now the other engineers tried to hold you back — but not before you could land a solid punch at him. Fuck HR, they could fire you for all you care.

You once again tried to claw at him, when you heard the confused voice of Lewis in your abandoned earphones.

Elbowing your way out of their grip, you placed the headset back on your head and reconnected to Lewis.

“ Y/N? Why did they tell me to box? Where were you? “ Lewis’ voice held so much confusion and doubt that it broke your heart.

“Lew, I - “

“ Y/N you said my tires were good. Why was told to box? Why am I boxing? “ Lewis countered before you could even answer.

You knew that Lewis had just lost his win. And you felt like it was somehow your fault.

“Lew … I'm sorry”

And just like that, Nico Rosberg had won the Grand Prix. While you lost the trust in every person in your motorhome and you gained contempt back.

After that incident, you had developed severe mistrust and it has led to nightmares and unhealthy amounts of alcohol. And only Lewis could break your cycle.

It was truly you and Lewis against everything. Or that was what you thought. Because , you didn’t know that Lewis has been fed false information about what happened, where everything was pinned on you.

Without your knowledge, Lewis’ trust in you had also formed a crack and doubt had nested itself in his heart.

No matter how coarse and dreadful , life still ensues and you are forced to move on — and continue with your life. Lewis had won another world championship.

It cant be denied that the prestige and glamour that the title brought has broadened opportunities for Lewis . Yet ,no one can argue that this has also broadened the target behind Lewis’ back.

And it had shown during 2016, Nico Rosberg was adamant about winning and he had done everything in his power to achieve his goal.

And painstakingly, Nico had won the title. Then not long after he announced his retirement.

Nico Rosberg has left Mercedes … and what did this mean for Lewis? Admittedly you were relieved by Nico’s exit; this meant the tension in the motorhome had been dissipated. You were no longer worried that the 2 Merc drivers were going to kill each other on track.

This meant, that you and Lewis could finally figure out what was between the two of you. You two could finally grow and develop your relationship. A relationship that wasn’t surrounded by anxiety and work . You could finally re-approach the promise that Lewis swore to you a year before.

He promised that he would rectify the contracts so that we didn’t need to stay in the shadows.

However, time continues to pass, days become weeks weeks become months and months become years.

It was now 2020, Lewis was experiencing what the title of Formula 1 Champion brought. He won another championship. And Lewis was living the life! And you had your moments too. You could proudly say that you are now a well sought after race engineer — with Race teams serving job offers left and right. But you have always declined , even if you so badly wanted to leave Mercedes… because you stayed where Lewis was.

4 years had passed, but you were still at the very beginning. You still waited for Lewis to make do his promise.

But as you gazed at him looking so alive and carefree as girls littered at his side while the music blasted in the bar.

The music was deafening,yet all you could hear was the pounding of your heart, as you felt the vile rush up to your mouth at the sight of your boyfriend holding another woman. And you could do nothing because to the world you were just his race engineer. Even after everything you sacrificed, you still cannot claim and shout to the world that Lewis Hamilton was yours.

Tears had started to drop from your eyes. As you felt the warm liquid run down your face , you felt a soft material in your hand. Looking down it was a handkerchief.

“ Pretty race engineers shouldn’t cry” A cold voice caught your attention, as you looked up to Blue cerulean eyes.

“Hi, We haven’t formally met. I’m Max” A smile graced his features, softening his usually cold appearance

“I don’t think we have. Well then, Hi Max! My name is Y/N. It is so nice to meet you”

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @itslagumi

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

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manykinsmen · 4 months

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the more i think about how we (as both f1blr/f1 fic writers and the more general understanding of f1 fans/the f1 world) mythologise nico rosberg, the more i think i slowly begin to understand why he's such a divisive figure. it's actually not that much to do with taking sides over brocedes and the popularity of lewis hamilton, or even just that some people really really don't like his personality. it's because he's a living symbol of the trauma that motorsports, particularly f1, inflicts upon its participants and embodies it in an almost entirely new and much more viscerally upsetting way.

think about the other people that have had a similar role. many of them are motor racers who died tragically, mostly in some kind of vehicle or after an on track incident. we can mythologise these people in the ancient ways set out by tragic heroes. they have a few subcategories, the dead champions going out in a blaze of glory (senna, rindt, even schumacher in some ways) like achilles. the dead that should have been champions, taken cruelly early and depriving the entire world with their loss, grieved (gilles villeneuve, francois cevert, didier pironi, ronnie peterson, elio d'angelis) like hector. the minor characters who die, who had yet to make any particular impression on the world of motorsport, but whose deaths motivate their loved ones to achieve on their behalf, or inspire rage against a cruel system (roland ratzenberger, jules bianchi, anthonine hubert) like patroclus.

even those that didn't die like that generally bear some sort of physical mark of trauma, like niki lauda's burns and alex zanardi's amputated legs. these figures are held up as triumphs of endurance and willpower when they go on to succeed in motorsport, or elsewhere in sport. if they cannot succeed in some sporting capacity afterwards, then they are allowed to quietly fade into obscurity, like robert kubica and his damaged arm, clay regazzoni, paralysed from the waist down. the trauma of motorsport is understandable when it is rendered physically.

when we render it instead psychologically, emotionally, it becomes incomprehensible to us, uncomfortable for us to entertain. why does someone retire after winning the world championship? because it's dangerous? because you are hurting yourself? in professional sports, people carry around constant pain until their body breaks enough that they can no longer compete, which typically happens sometime in the mid-late thirties, frighteningly early in the average human lifespan. sports is not man vs man or man vs nature so much as it is man vs his own body. this is not the only way competitors hurt themselves, there is constant restriction: food, habits, time. how do you win? see family less, see friends less, practice hobbies less, spend more time training, focusing, studying, converting yourself into the perfect machine.

and then there's the individual traumas: the bridges burnt, the marriages sacrificed, the children neglected, the rival that becomes a nemesis, the best friend that becomes a mortal enemy, the self that becomes lost to become just another part of the car. richard siken says "how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it's some kind of murder?". and then there's the losses, the disappointments, the criticisms from the team, from the press, from the fans. the constant battering of yourself against wave after wave of grief. the slow erosion of hope for all but a chosen, golden few. the knowledge that even if you win, there will come a point, inevitably, again, where you lose. you a winner until the next race. you are a champion until the next season.

what do we say to someone who says "i want to go home" and means it? who doesn't have to be dragged out of the race kicking and screaming? if they aren't a winner, we say they were never going to be. they are no one of any worth, they will be quietly forgotten. can you name a single one? if they are a winner, though, then what? what does this mean? we snatch at their winnings, their titles, try to take it away, retract it, somehow. but how do you say to them then that they aren't a winner? it is over. it is done.

they leave because they are hurting somehow, and their leaving leaves us hurting. it's betrayal, abandonment of the highest order. we as spectators are part of the race, the system. for nico to leave voluntarily is to criticise somehow, to point out the suffering and say you have hurt me. and we are included in that you, we know it subconsciously. that is why nico rosberg makes us uncomfortable, because he pulls back the curtain, reveals the trickery of it and all of us are suddenly standing in the light.

#nico rosberg #cw: trauma #cw: death #cw: injury #f1

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fandom · 1 year

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Poles, podiums, and the best of the rest.

Who are all these handsome young men in colorful jumpsuits that seem to have taken over your dashboard this year? And where exactly are they going in those really fast cars?????

Over the past few years, Formula 1 has spread into all corners of culture, and Tumblr is no exception. People around the world have learned about F1’s 70 years of history, its international circuits in cities like Monaco and Abu Dhabi, and its Grand Prix schedule of Free Practice, Qualifying, and the races themselves. Tumblr being Tumblr, though, it’s really all about the drivers: 20 of them per year, two for each of the ten official teams. Add in all the other assorted characters that orbit around the current grid, and you have quite the lineup to follow each weekend.

F1 and its fast boys have been appearing in our Week in Review lists as far back as 2020, and on last year’s Year In Review Athletes list, drivers took up a healthy 6 out of the top 10 spots. This year, the sport’s domination of the dashboard kicked it up a notch: There was an 18% increase in engagement with the Formula 1 tag in 2022 compared with last year, and Lestappen (aka Max Verstappen/Charles Leclerc) became the very first F1 ship to hit a Week In Review ships list on July 10, 2022.

A lot of this might have something to do with the growing popularity of Netflix’s Drive to Survive docuseries, which follows the twists and turns of each F1 season, shining a light on the personal lives of the drivers and their team members. Tumblr’s interest in the sport just feels natural: with all of its drama, excitement, and contained, charismatic, and frequently controversial ensemble cast, it seems tailor-made for Tumblr users who enjoy sports anime and adventure dramas.

So, what’s the pitch for F1? Whether you root for the underdog or support the champion, there’s a storyline for you. The interweaving backstories of the drivers, many of whom have grown up driving together since they were kids, are like catnip to Tumblr’s love for characters with history. And, of course, there are the races themselves—high-tech cars going hundreds of miles per hour. What’s not to love?

Or, as @gaslightgirlsummer puts it: these men are all millionaire tax evaders trying to kill each other and/or themselves in the fastest cars on the planet (that are worth more money than most people will ever have in their lifetimes) on a weekly basis.

Whether a longtime fan or newly interested, you’ve probably seen F1 around Tumblr this year, featuring in fan art, GIFsets, and a plentiful amount of very silly memes. But, in case you’ve ever been curious about who Tumblr loves the most, here are the top 35 Formula 1 tags in 2022, featuring not just current drivers but retired drivers, reserve drivers, upcoming drivers, race engineers, and team principals, too.

Lewis Hamilton

Charles Leclerc

Daniel Ricciardo

Sebastian Vettel

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Mick Schumacher

Pierre Gasly

George Russell

Carlos Sainz

Yuki Tsunoda

Valtteri Bottas

Alex Albon

Esteban Ocon

Fernando Alonso

Lance Stroll

Sergio Perez

Toto Wolff

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Kimi Raikkonen

Oscar Piastri

Antonio Giovinazzi

Nicholas Latifi

Nico Rosberg

Christian Horner

Michael Schumacher

Callum Illott

Jenson Button

Mattia Binotto

Nyck De Vries

Peter Bonnington

Mark Webber

Zak Brown

Nico Hulkenberg

And, because it wouldn’t be Formula 1 without a Constructor’s Championship, here’s the ranking of teams on Tumblr:

McLaren

Ferrari

Mercedes

Red Bull

Aston Martin

Haas

Alpine

Alfa Romeo

Williams

AlphaTauri

#year in review #formula 1 #tumblr2022

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mynicosensesaretingling · 6 months

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Lost in the moment (part 1)

Nico Rosberg x fem!reader

Summary: Throughout her career as a motorsport journalist, (Y/N) has established a special relationship with Nico. But what happens when unfortunate circumstances keep her from being there for him during the most important moment of his career? (part 1 of 2)

Warnings: Other than some angst there isn't any, female reader

Note: Noticing the lack of Nico fanfiction, I've decided to turn my dreams into an actual story. No worries, there will be a second part!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/mynicosensesaretingling/734355288476565504/lost-in-the-moment-part2

Hope you enjoy it <3

Life as a journalist was not exactly a quiet life, especially for (Y/N), who worked as a reporter live on location for a motorsport journal called Countdown Magazine. Having been a dream job for the young woman since childhood, however, the stress that came with working in the motorsport industry seemed only half as bad to her.

But this year, the atmosphere had changed as the intense rivalry between Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton, known as the “Silver War”, had captivated the world of Formula 1. As a dedicated and well-reputed reporter, (Y/N) had secured herself, what you could call a front-row seat, which allowed her to immerse herself in the high-stakes drama that unfolded throughout the season and enabled her to follow every twist and turn with unwavering dedication.

However, even though the feud between the Mercedes drivers provided great headlines and stories, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel tense whenever Lewis and Nico had a go at each other.

Having been covering the sport for multiple years now had created a closer bond between her and several of the drivers and none more so than Nico Rosberg. The German Mercedes driver had always struck (Y/N) as a fascinating character.

Over the years, their paths had crossed countless times during press conferences, pit-lane interviews and post-race debriefs. She had covered his journey from the earlier days of his Formula 1 career, watching him develop from a promising talent into a championship contender. His approachability and genuine interest in connecting with those around him were what had set Nico apart from the other drivers. Beyond the professional facade, the driver was a thoughtful guy, cracking jokes, sharing gossip, discussing the intricacies of the sport, the pressures of competition and even personal anecdotes from his life.

Before she knew it, (Y/N) had found herself staying behind after work, searching out any chance to connect with the German. It didn’t take long before he invited her to join him at whatever he was planning on doing next, be it a walk around the track, getting something to eat or simply hanging around the paddock. Each time she accepted his offer the unique bond between them grew stronger, forging a friendship that transcended the typical reporter-athlete dynamic.

"Sometimes I really wonder why you spend so much time with me." the young reporter once mused, resting her chin on her hand as she leaned against the counter. Nico, who was standing next to her at the whirring coffee machine, shrugged his shoulders calmly, "I have to make sure I'm always presented in the best light. After all, we don't want any scandalous headlines or such, do we?." his cheeky laughter was quickly interrupted when (Y/N)'s foot found his shin. "Ouch." the blond man exclaimed overdramatically, pointing at her with his silver spoon in an accusing manner, but his narrowed eyes were sparkling playfully. "I swear one day I'm going to lose my ability to drive because of you. And then we'll both be out of a job." (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "There are plenty of other Formula 1 drivers I could report on." "Mhm." Nico was nodding while picking up his cup from the coffee machine. "But apparently these drivers must be boring as hell, otherwise you wouldn't be spending so much time with me." He winked at her whilst stirring his coffee, getting an eye-roll from (Y/N) in response. "Oh come on, I know you love me." Nico chuckled. "Oh shut up," the young woman laughed, waving her hand in a dismissive manner, purposefully ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat.

One of (Y/N)’s favourite memories, which she had made in her friendship with Nico, was when after a long, rainy qualifying day and countless press conferences, the driver had waited for her in the pitlane, an umbrella in his right hand as he wordlessly motioned for her to join him with his free one. “It’s raining.” she had expressed, pulling her jacket tighter around her body in hesitation, eyes darting to the dark clouds above. “And I have an umbrella.” Nico had simply countered matter-of-factly, shaking the umbrella for emphasis, scrunching his nose as his gesture led cold droplets to land on his face. (Y/N) suppressed a laugh, finding the sight utterly adorable. “I can’t just leave you standing there in the rain, can I?” her voice was filled with amusement, as she mustered the man, before quickly making her way over to Nico. “I mean,” he chuckled, as she ducked under his umbrella “You definitely could, but I’d find it incredibly rude.” (Y/N) huffed a laugh, linking her arm with his. “Well, how kind of me to join you then.” She hummed, eyes fixed onto the moon’s reflection in one of the puddles below. “ What are we doing anyways ?” she raised her brow, looking up at him with curiosity. Nico turned his head, a sparkle in his eyes. “We’ve never walked a track at night before, so I figured we’d make it a first. And now that I am thinking about it, I don’t think we’ve ever walked in the rain before either.” his gaze turned mischievous as he shook the umbrella once again, sprinkling water into both of their faces. A hearty chuckle left his lips as he watched (Y/N) scrunch her nose, just like he had done earlier. “Why did you even bother getting an umbrella?” (Y/N) huffed lightheartedly, as she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Cause I know you wouldn’t have joined me without one.” he grinned down at her before pulling her along with him. That night, as Nico and her had spent several hours walking the moonlit track, sharing an umbrella and conversing about everything and nothing, is when (Y/N) had realized that her feelings for the Mercedes driver went far beyond friendship.

In the current tense situation, moments like these were not lost on the pair, but they were becoming increasingly infrequent. With the championship-deciding race approaching, (Y/N) could feel the pressure on Nico becoming stronger by the minute. Being on the brink of realizing his lifelong dream of becoming a Formula 1 World Champion and stepping into the footsteps of his father had led to several sleepless nights thinking about the sacrifices and the relentless pursuit of excellence that had brought him to this pivotal moment. And on top of that, Nico’s biggest rival was his own teammate and best friend, Lewis Hamilton.

Especially now that the relationship with his childhood friend was slowly but surely coming to an end, Nico found himself drawn to (Y/N)’s presence, even more so than usual. Amongst this utter mess, which he found himself in, she was his lifeline and he clung to it like a desperate sailor lost at sea.

Particularly in the days leading up to the race, Nico was confiding in the woman about his innermost fears and ambitions, trusting her as someone who genuinely understood the intricacies of the sport and its impact on his life. She, in turn, had found herself awaiting his late-night calls, admiring his determination as she listened to him rambling about whatever was occupying his mind, her heart filling with a sense of pride whenever she’d hear a faint chuckle from Nico as she managed to bring some lightheartedness and humour to their conversations.

"You'll be okay," she would say to him in a gentle voice, "you've always managed so far." On the other end of the line, the driver would sigh, "But it's never been like this before." His voice was weary and full of thoughtful despair. "And in the future, it will never be like this again." she would say with a shurg, her empathetic smile practically audible through the phone. "So try to enjoy as many of these moments as you can." There was a pause before Nico gave a breathless chuckle, "Oh man, what would I do without you?"

On the day of the race, as Nico prepared for taking on the track, he couldn't help but think of (Y/N) and how she had supported him over the last few weeks, reassuring him and quite literally keeping him sane as the situation within his team steadily deteriorated.

His blue eyes scanned the area outside of the Mercedes garage. Unable to spot his friend in any of the spots she’d usually be in, Nico approached one of the stewards. “Hey, sorry,” he tried to sound nonchalant “Have you seen the Countdown crew?” his eyes nervously flitted around the paddock, before landing back on the steward. “Countdown Magazine? No, I don’t think I have seen them anywhere on the track today.” the older man answered, a rough hand scratching away at his beard. “Thank you.” Nico shortly nodded, before abruptly turning on his heels and making his way back into the garage with tense shoulders. (Y/N)’s absence from the paddock weighed heavily on his mind. She had promised him to be there today and she’d usually come in amongst the first wave of reporters. Why wasn’t she there yet? Nico combed his fingers through his hair , lost in thought. Shaking his head, he felt his team’s eyes on his form. She’d surely be at the paddock in no time, he thought, deciding that for now, it would do him better to focus on the race and his strategies, in order to secure the championship.

What Nico didn't know, however, was that just mere moments before the gates to the paddock were opened, the boss of Countdown Magazine had abruptly fired (Y/N) at short notice.

With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, the only thing the young journalist had been able to understand through the speaker of her cell phone was that the magazine needed a “breath of fresh air” and therefore had decided to get rid of their motorsport department in the composition in which it had existed until then…or something like that. (Y/N) wasn't entirely sure, as she was overcome with panic as her thoughts flew straight to Nico.

Just the night before, she had promised him on the phone that she would never miss the most important race of his career and now she was sitting in her hotel room, unemployed, with no access to the paddock and no way to get a ticket to the race because the tickets had already sold out weeks ago.

Had a champion of misfortune been crowned that night, she was sure that no one would have been able to deprive her of that victory. Shaky fingers dialled Nico's number, which she by now knew better than she did her own, the cheap wood of the hotel bed creaking as (Y/N)'s leg bobbed up and down in unease. With each ring of the call, her breath caught in her throat. The ex-reporter knew the driver too well by now to have expected him to use his cell phone so close to the race, but what other option did she have? She pressed the phone to her ear for a few more moments, each second more painful than the last, wide eyes staring blankly at the F1 broadcast on her TV screen. It was only when the drivers left their garages to get into formation that she dropped the cell phone from her ear and threw it onto the mattress behind her with a loud "Fuck!", followed by a strangled sob whilst desperate fingers pulled at her hair.

As the race unfolded, the tension in the air was palpable. Nico and Lewis were locked in a fierce battle for the championship and every corner, every lap, seemed to carry the weight of each driver’s dreams. When Nico finally crossed the finish line , securing his victory, he felt a mix of euphoria and disbelief. After this particularly demanding season, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief, having fulfilled his life-long dream of winning a World Driver’s Championship title.

The moment Nico stepped onto the podium to accept the championship trophy, he couldn’t help himself but to scan the crowd of reporters, still hoping to catch a glimpse of (Y/N). She had to be there, after all that’s what she had promised him. Yet, his friend still remained conspicuously absent.

Nico held the coveted trophy high, the cheers of the crowd a deafening roar, as he smiled down at the sea of people. But even with a championship in hand and hundreds of people celebrating his achievement, there was a strange feeling of emptiness within his heart. As the champagne sprayed and the crowd celebrated, Nico's emotions were a turbulent mix of exhilaration and confusion. He couldn't help but wonder why (Y/N) hadn't been there smiling up at him, especially when she had been a constant presence throughout not only the season, but the majority of his career. The absence of his friend was like a splinter in his heart, casting a faint shadow over what should have been the most triumphant moment of his career.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) watched the race unfold from her hotel room, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. The news of her abrupt departure from her reporting career had come as a shock, and she had fought bitterly against it. Her job had been her passion, and Formula 1 was her life. To be denied the opportunity to report on the championship-deciding race, and more importantly to support Nico in his most crucial moment, was a heartbreak she struggled to bear.

As she witnessed Nico celebrating his victory, the realization of her absence was a painful weight on both her shoulders and her mind. She had been forced to watch her friend reach the pinnacle of his career from a distance, unable to share this moment of glory with the man who had unknowingly stolen her heart. The tears she shed were a mixture of pride for her friend and a deep sense of sorrow for her own situation.

Back at the race track, Nico's initial reaction, unaware of the circumstances behind his friend’s absence, was one of betrayal. Finding himself being swarmed by countless reporters fighting for even the smallest of chances to get a word from the freshly crowned champion, he couldn’t help the bitterness he began to feel towards (Y/N). If all of these random journalist could have turned up, then why couldn’t his dearest friend do the same for him. The longer Nico thought about it, the more he questioned his relationship with (Y/N), something which he had valued so highly up until that very moment.

She hadn’t just used him to boost her journalism career, had she? As much as he wanted to shake the thought, the champion couldn’t stop the idea of having been used solely for thrilling stories and eye-catching headlines to consume him, clouding his mind as the pain of having been abandoned by the woman, whom he had opened himself up to, right when he needed her most, sank in.

His heart was clouded by hurt, and the insufferable ache of believing he had been manipulated by someone he had grown to trust and even developed some sort of feelings for was something he didn't know whether he could cope with.

How could a person whom he valued so highly and would give anything for, be so selfish and leave him standing there like that, clutching his fulfilled lifelong dream in his hand and yet still feeling a hole in his heart. Had his feelings really blinded him to such an extent that he hadn't realized (Y/N)'s true nature, or had his heart perhaps never wished to recognize it in the first place ?

“Mr.Rosberg!” the shout of his name pulled the driver out of his thoughts. Blinking, his eyes travelled up the arm currently shoving a microphone into his face, before settling on the face of the reporter, whose red lips were pulled into an impatient smile. “I am sorry, I didn’t quite catch your question.” he mindlessly gestured around with his hand, hoping to come across as if he really hadn't caught the question in the bustling scenery.

He raised his brows, a half-heartedly apologetic smile on his lips as he kept his attentive eyes on the reporter while waiting for her to repeat what she had just asked. The reporter laughed in a put-on fashion and Nico had to wrestle with himself to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"So," the woman thrust the microphone even further into his face, "I'd be really interested to know whether there was anyone who helped you get through this difficult season, or whether it was all down to you?" Almost immediately the driver put on the mask of a cocky smile. "No, all of that was entirely down to me and I dare say I managed pretty darn well." Nico’s hair bobbed as he nodded towards his trophy. His smile grew painful as he was intent on ignoring the extent of the lie he had just told and the pang of pain, that the conscious erasure of his relationship with (Y/N) caused deep within his core.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #nico rosberg #f1 fandom #f1 drivers #f1 fanfic #nico rosberg x reader #f1 reader insert #f1 x you #nico rosberg x you #nico rosberg imagine #f1 drivers x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 grid

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misspaddockverse · 2 months

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📝 Best Villains in F1 fanfics

An honest ranking based on my personal experience on ao3, from worst to best.

7. Mark Webber

That’s a fair no for me. I’m sorry but I kinda love him? He’s a bit obtuse, yes, but he is also happily married to a woman! I like him way too much to see him as the bad guy

6. Kelly Piquet

It’s logical and it makes sense, but honestly she doesn’t look like a mean girl enough for me. I like it better when she simply leaves the scene or is nice and understanding.

5. Nico Rosberg

Wow. This one is a 50/50 for me. It only works when he’s a likable villain.

4. Carlos Oñoros

Wow, this one was a good surprise. The fact that I don’t know him enough makes him versatile and it works well on him. The whole conservative right wing family has a lot of potential.

3. Helmut Marko

What to say? Simple, effective, classic. A bad old guy who hates progress and does anything to win? Ugh, it works every time! Don’t ever let this go!

2. Jos Verstappen

Sensitive topic, I know, but let’s be honest: one of the best. Bonus points because he doesn’t need a fanfic to look like a villain. And bonus points2 because Max is the most fanfic-main-character ever.

1. Heikki Huovinen

WHAT THE F!!!!!! BEST ONE EVERRRR!!! Guys… if you know, you know. If you don’t, unfortunately I can’t be the one to tell you. This was so well written it made me hate him a few pages despite not having heard about him ever before. Simply chef’s kiss 😘🤌!

#the perks of ao3 I’d say #f1blr #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #fanfic #f1 fic rec #f1 rpf #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 on ao3 #f1 one shot #Max Verstappen #sebastian vettel #ao3

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blorbocedes · 26 days

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resharing riddle of rosberg by Will Buxton, because OP who originally posted it deactivated, and it's a very interesting read. since WB recently talked about how he didn't like Nico until they had a breakthrough moment and he realised that's his German sense of humour, this contextualises how people perceived Nico. Buxton wrote on Nico back in 2014, which covers his early GP2 career, the 2014 F1 season and provides a fascinating insight into Nico’s character. Highlights below:

I can’t recall the first time I met Nico Rosberg. All I remember is that I despised him, everything he was and all he represented: the cock-sure, entitled, bolshy son of a world champion. No grace, no humility. Wafting in, a blur of blonde hair and arrogance. A Formula BMW champion yes, but only a few F3 wins and just three years in single seaters gave what I held to be little foundation for such seeming conceit. I disliked him intensely. It got to the point where I held such disdain for him that I would actively seek for our paths to not cross… which was fairly hard given I was PRing the championship in which he was racing. I’d simply ask someone else to grab his quotes for me. They always seemed to be able to pull more out of him anyway.

Nico Rosberg had been quick from the outset, and watching his racecraft develop as the season went on became a growing point of emotional turmoil for me. He was so impressive; seemingly effortlessly rapid and blessed with a precision that was metronomic. But I just couldn’t like him. I wished he’d been a good guy, one I could get excited about. But instead I felt huge sadness that such a wonderful talent had been given to a guy who was apparently such a Class A prat.

I recall the low point only too well. He was breezing past on his way to dinner. His team-mate Alexandre Premat had topped qualifying, and I’d used the staggeringly unoriginal press release headline of “Premat Powers to Pole.”

“Why don’t I ever “power” to anything?” he pointedly sneered as he walked past.

I looked up, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then it hit, and I wondered why he was being so petty. The headline was simple alliteration. I had probably or would probably use “Rosberg Reigns” at some point of the season on the back of one of his wins. It was just Nico being typical Nico.

“Dick!” I whispered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Later that night, I needed to talk to his then-PR guy Karsten Streng and hopped into the ART truck to find him.

“Karsten, can we have a chat?”

Out from behind his race overalls jumped Nico.

“Oh, so you don’t want to speak to me then? Huh? What’s that all about? You’d rather speak to Karsten than to me?”

I turned on my heels and walked out.

Karsten ran after me.

“Will, man, you can’t let that get to you. You know he’s only joking, right? Just fire it straight back at him. He’ll love it. He’s really a fun guy… honestly. But if you don’t give it back to him he’ll think he’s got the high ground. He loves a challenge.”

The next day Nico sent some pithy comment my way, so I turned around, flipped him the bird and winked. “Fuck you Rosberg.”

He looked taken aback. I broke out in a cold sweat. This was not behavior becoming of the championship’s press officer. Had I just managed to ruin any relationship I might have had with the man destined to be our first champion?

A smile broke across his face, and we never had a cross word again. Indeed, we started to get on really well. At the end of the season I received a package to my home, from Monaco. In it was an ART team shirt, signed by Nico, thanking me for my support. I had it framed, and it remains one of my most treasured pieces of memorabilia from my career in racing.

Nico was the most savvy driver I ever worked with. Stepping down from the podium after winning the GP2 title, he spoke to the awaiting press in turn, each in their own language. I’d only ever seen him in individual language press briefings, and to see him utilise such cool and calm intelligence so soon after the elation of what was at the time the most meaningful moment of his career left me astounded.

But therein lies the deepest issue with Nico Rosberg. He isn’t just smart. He’s the sort of smart that makes the rest of us question if we’re quite as clever as we thought we were. And at times it can be his undoing.

I’d seen his intelligence and need for the high ground cause him trouble time and time again in interviews, even in the GP2 days. The interviewer would sit down, all smiles, ready to start the conversation. But Nico, fearful of being on the back foot, would fire retorts and wrestle control of the interview back into his own hands. He would put the interviewer at ill ease in order to make himself feel more comfortable with the situation. What resulted was a terrible interview, and the prevailing opinion of Rosberg being precisely the one I’d drawn when first we met: that he was cocky and arrogant. When I came back to journalism in 2008 I had booked a sit down with him at Williams and for the first 2 minutes of the interview, that’s exactly how he was: back against the wall, stand-offish, arrogant, unlikable. I switched off the Dictaphone and asked him if he was going to carry on being a prick or if we could do this properly. He looked sheepish, apologised, and we picked back up with what ended up being a great interview.

All of which led to a question often asked: is Nico Rosberg too smart for his own good?

It’s a question that has come back again this year.

Many will point to Monaco as a stand-out point of the season. I always felt Rosberg was smart enough to pull off that stunt in qualifying, but I never believed he was that cynical or cold. To be a world champion takes more than intelligence and speed. As I argued over Multi-21 last year, while we may hate to admit it, what marks the champions out from the also-rans is the ability to be a complete bastard when the moment arrives. In Monaco, Nico was the bastard and turned that qualifying controversy into a race win that had the ability to completely shift the tide of the season.

That it didn’t, however, is his own doing.

Lewis Hamilton is widely regarded as one of the best qualifiers in modern Formula 1. And yet, with a dominantly fast car at his disposal, he has lost the Pole Trophy to Nico Rosberg, the German amassing 10 poles to Hamilton’s seven. That metronomic precision has played into the Rosberg’s hands on many occasions this season, and more often than not it has given him the upper hand going into the race. On Saturdays at least, Rosberg has proved beyond doubt that he has the pace. But he hasn’t turned that Saturday pace on regularly enough in Sunday’s race.

Mentally, what happened in Budapest was also a tremendous shock. Hungary should never have affected him as much as it did. Perhaps it all comes down to how much brain capacity we consider Nico Rosberg as having, but that August break should have been used to move on from what he perceived as injustice, and start the second half of the season fresh and with total clarity of mind. Rosberg used all of that mindfulness, however, to focus on the negatives and came back to Spa with it still playing on his mind.

That incident on lap 2 of the 2014 Belgian Grand Prix has been poured over to frankly ridiculous degrees. To me, it was a nothing moment. Rosberg could have backed out, Hamilton could have given more room. That both went into it so pathetically ultimately resulted in the damage it did. If Rosberg had truly wanted to teach Hamilton a lesson then he should have gone in hard. That he didn’t is the only reason that Hamilton’s tyre was sliced. Any intent, and Rosberg would have snapped his front wing, bouncing it off the side of the Briton’s tyre. Hamilton would have stormed off into the distance while Rosberg was forced to switch his wing.

I argued at the time that Rosberg needed to embrace one side or the other. He needed to be a hero or a villain, because if he was neither, he risked becoming nothing. And so it emerged after the race that he had told Hamiton he had allowed the impact to happen. A step towards becoming that villain? Perhaps, but it wasn’t enough. And that’s the big sadness of his season. He has been so fast and so consistent, but his inability to pick a side and his attempts at being all things to all people has led to him being left wide open to attack from all sides.

The way he interacts with broadcast crews is an incredible illustration of this. In Monza, in speaking with me on American television he spoke in confident and unashamed tones despite his apparent dressing down by the team over Spa. With the Germans he was the same… almost bullish. And then to the British TV and radio crews, his shoulders slumped forward, his head bowed down, his tone was full of contrition and regret. What he was saying was no different to what he had told the German or international crews, but the way it was said was at total odds with how he had been just 10 seconds before.

Just as in Bahrain at that GP2 finale 10 years ago, I stood in awe. So savvy, so intelligent to his audience… but perhaps, in this instance, a reflection of him trying to be just that little bit too smart.

The thing is, he can be so charming too. He has a dry and sarcastic wit, which can sometimes be played out with a deft finesse. In America and Brazil, he started to have a very subtle jab at his championship rival by adopting Lewis Hamilton’s apparent mot du jour. In almost every interview, Rosberg would drop in a little comment about how “blessed” he felt. Shrewd. Subtle. At times, however, he can be a total child. In Hungary this year I was running from my commentary position to the GP3 podium to conduct the post race interviews. Time is tight at the best of times, but when I arrived at the swipe gates I felt an arm around my waist pulling me back. At first I thought it was an over-zealous security guard. But no. It was Nico, giggling away with a huge grin plastered across his face.

Should he be crowned 2014 Formula 1 world champion, be it through double points or, let’s hope, a barn-storming wheel-to-wheel thriller, some will still argue that Nico Rosberg does not deserve to be world champion. With them, however, I would disagree. Lest we forget, this is the only man who, over the course of a full Formula 1 season, finished ahead of Michael Schumacher as a team-mate. As if to reinforce the point, Rosberg achieved this giant toppling feat not once, but thrice.

His out-and-out pace in qualifying this year has been insurmountable. That he has won the inaugural Pole Trophy is evidence of that. So we know he has the pace, we know he has the temperament to win races, and we know that on occasion he can embrace his inner bastard and drive with the ruthlessness that sets world champions apart.

Nico Rosberg has shown repeatedly in 2014 that he possesses the attributes shared by the best of the best. We should not deny him his glory should he be confirmed as such on Sunday.

#will buxton straight up was writing how nico is a manic pixie dream girl #essential read for nicologists #nico rosberg #will buxton #nicology #longform article

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readingbythestreetlights · 8 months

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nico rosberg · a character study & a life of racing

kenyatta rogers / m. bartley seigel / assotto saint / diane seuss / jay hopler

#he <33 #i could never be normal about him #i don’t even really know if this makes full sense to anyone but me #but that’s okay that’s alright #nico rosberg #f1 #web weaving #words #poetry #pinned post

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vettelsvee · 18 days

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FIRST VICTORY (PART 1) | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

summary: sebastian gets his first pole position, while diana realizes that perhaps the world of motorsport she had idealized was not as wonderful as she had imagined. except for seb, of course, who was the one who, in part, made her continue in formula 1.

word count: 7060

warnings: curse words, bad language, mentions and act of sexism. mentions of sickness and medical terms. seb and di getting closer. just nico rosberg doing nico rosberg things (friendly reminder that whatever you read here is fiction, and nothing that happens here or how characters act is real)

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2008

Italian Grand Prix Autodromo Nazionale Monza

September 11 th Thursday

Monza had not welcomed them as they had hoped.

The sun had barely risen on that Thursday, marking the beginning of the Italian Grand Prix, hiding behind multiple dark gray clouds loaded with water that threatened to unleash upon the circuit at the most unexpected moment.

Diana, with her umbrella in one hand, backpack hanging from her back, and her accreditation hanging from her neck, entered the paddock with a downcast look. She had been with the Toro Rosso team for six months already, and although she knew she was living her dream of being part of the sport she loved so much and was aware from the moment she set foot in that world that it wouldn't be a bed of roses, nothing was turning out as she had initially imagined.

The first three or four Grand Prix had gone well, and they had even strengthened her bond with Sebastian due to his DNF situations. However, as the weeks passed and, with them, the months, everything started to go downhill. While initially the team seemed happy to have a girl among them, derogatory comments, an abundance of sexist jokes, and daily attitudes of the same kind became Wagner's burden. She couldn't help but feel undervalued and, above all, useless.

"I'm sure that when Diana gets promoted and becomes my engineer everyone will want her," Vettel said on one occasion when he heard a sexual proposition from one of his mechanics to another. "Trust me, Diana Wagner is going to win championships with me."

No matter how much the dyed-blonde had tried to prevent Seb from defending her to avoid drawing more attention, he didn't mind; on the contrary, he did it willingly.

"I have four amazing women in my life, and I wouldn't want them to be treated like that," the driver explained, showing a photo of his sisters and mother. "Despite being a ladies' man I know there are limits, and respect is above everything for me."

That didn't help at all as Diana ended up being relegated to minor, unimportant tasks. Suddenly, she found herself going back and forth in the paddock carrying coffees, preparing some meals and running errands for anyone, as if her only function was to be a decoration. She didn't know, but she was sure she had worked too hard to show that she deserved that opportunity more than anyone else who had applied for the scholarship. And not only that: she also tried to gain the trust and, especially, the respect of Toro Rosso members, although it seemed to have worked only with the blue-eyed blonde.

Despite proving her worth in every free practice, qualifying and race, and regardless of learning a little more every day, her senior engineer completely ignored her.

As she crossed paths with people on her way to the team's box, she reminded herself that she had arrived there on her own merits; that she had worked for years and that, if this moment was not the right one for her to shine, she would do so in the future. Patience, and especially attitude, along with luck, were the keys to success, and her father had ingrained it in her over her twenty years of life.

A group of Ferrari engineers accompanied by Felipe Massa passed by her arguing heatedly about possible strategies for Sunday's race and some configuration for the race car. As they almost always mistook her for a grid girl, Diana always took advantage of that. This time was no exception. Carefully, she began to follow them, pretending to attend a phone call to listen to as much of the conversation as possible and mentally note everything they said down. Sebastian's performance had improved since the race in Monaco thanks to some contributions she had made to Alex, the driver's engineer, who obviously took credit for it. She knew that no matter how much information she shared, it would not be acknowledged as her own, but the fact that she could help secure at least a podium for Vettel was all that mattered to her.

"Now, apart from being an aspiring intern, are you also a spy?"

Nico's voice made her come to a sudden halt, realizing she had been caught. A blush started to spread across her cheeks, accompanied by an unpleasant nervousness in her stomach.

"I was just snooping around a bit," the girl explained, growing more nervous as she saw the blonde approaching her. "I wanted to find out what's being discussed around here, that's all."

"About Ferrari's strategies, am I right?"

Diana didn't say anything, confirming Rosberg's assumption.

"That's what I like most about you, that you're determined."

"But you've barely seen me," Diana responded a bit curtly. "I just want to learn from the best to be the best, and I would do anything for it," she commented sincerely.

"Would you come with me now for a coffee?"

The young woman began to feel a shiver running down her spine, feeling uncomfortable with the German's suggestion. Every time she had had a chance to talk to the driver it had been in the same way. That had only made him gradually gain more confidence with her, and the hints became more and more direct.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm more of a tea girl," the girl said ironically, trying to maintain composure. "Besides, I don't know if you know, but I came to work and prove my worth, not to boost anyone's ego."

Before the Williams driver could reply, a familiar voice joined the conversation. Sometimes, Sebastian Vettel seemed like Spider-Man and appeared just when the Austrian needed him most.

"What are my eyes seeing? Nico Rosberg flirting, again, with our amazing intern?" he questioned, wrapping his arms around Diana. "Come on, lower yourself to that... I didn't expect that from you, Rosberg."

"I was just being friendly with her," the other guy tried to pretend with a smile. "Right, Di?"

Diana nodded, agreeing with him even though she knew it wasn't true. Vettel noticed how the girl's body tensed a bit due to discomfort, something that bothered him a little.

"Di?" Seb replied. "Now you're close to her?"

"Sebastian," she said, interrupting him because she was aware that if she didn't, things would escalate. "I just wanted to go for coffee, really, but I don't feel like it because I have work to do," she approached him, placing her hand on his chest, and said something in a low voice. "There's no need to make a scene."

Sebastian took a deep breath and calmed down a bit. He didn't like the intentions that many guys had with what he considered his friend, and Rosberg was no exception. He had heard many insinuations with that girl coming from many mouths, and every time someone said something he wanted to start a fight no matter how much he tried to control himself.

"Well, Nico, why don't you let Di and I go back to our garage? We need to discuss some private matters."

Nico accepted, with a mocking smile on his lips.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to interrupt whatever private thing you're going to do."

"Don't make things up, you bastard!" Wagner shouted at him as Rosberg winked at them and began to walk away briskly.

The girl thanked Sebastian mentally. Sometimes Nico could be not just a little but too heavy. It's not that she found him ugly, far from it, but she liked to get to know people before throwing herself into their arms and acting as if they had known each other their whole lives.

"Thanks for that, Seb, but I had it all under control," Diana thanked.

"Sure," the driver replied nonchalantly. "Rosberg can be a bit... let's say persistent," he explained as they walked, seemingly aimlessly. "But that doesn't mean he's not a good guy!"

"I haven't said otherwise."

Vettel stopped and looked at the girl. He barely knew her, and although it was true that in the last few weekends they had become closer, he still didn't have enough confidence to talk about certain topics...

She wasn't his close friend.

Even so, there was something she didn't know about her, but that attracted him immensely.

"Do you like Nico?" he asked without hesitation.

"What? No!" Diana shouted, attracting the attention of those around them. "How could I like him? All he does is ask me out, come up to me every time he sees me alone and invite me to his room in the Williams box! I don't want to hook up with him or whatever he has in mind!"

Sebastian started to mock her. Despite being a good girl, sometimes she seemed so innocent that it made the German feel sorry for her. He decided not to continue the conversation because he knew his temper was strong enough to tell him to fuck off.

"Will you join me for the press conference? It's in like half an hour," he commented, looking at his wristwatch.

"I thought Alex needed me to talk to him or something," the girl deflected the proposal. "Anyway, I can't even get in. I'm not a journalist."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to pretend to be one."

Diana didn't have time to accept the invitation as the German had already gently taken her by the wrist and started walking briskly towards the room where the press conference would be held.

As soon as they arrived and entered, still holding hands and attracting some curious looks, the Austrian was amazed at the immense proportions of the place. From the outside, it seemed much smaller, but she had before her a spacious and well-lit room, with a long table and five chairs arranged on a platform in the center, where Diana supposed the drivers would sit. Behind it was the Formula 1 logo, followed by a Monza Grand Prix 2008 sign.

The driver and the intern continued walking together, still admiring the last completely stunned at the journalists, cameras and other professionals from around the world present.

"Sit wherever you want, newbie," Vettel pointed to the seats where some reporters were already sitting. "I have to pretend that I love answering questions, and you have to pretend you're the best journalist in the room. Let's get to work and then I'll invite you to whatever you want, okay?"

They both parted with a smile. Wagner proceeded to settle in one of the back rows so as not to attract too much attention. She greeted people around her with a fake smile, trying not to let them discover that she was just an intern that no one wanted.

She watched as the drivers who would attend the press, besides Seb, took their respective seats. Kimi Räikkönen appeared with a serious face, something normal for him; Fernando Alonso exuded confidence, and Lewis Hamilton was relaxed, although alert to what they might ask him: it was only his second year competing, and he had already become one of the candidates to be the world champion of the season.

Vettel, as he seemed to do in any situation, was making jokes and chatting very animatedly with some reporters, receiving reprimands from what the intern knew as his public relations, Britta Roeske.

The event's moderator introduced himself, starting the press conference. Despite already knowing them, he presented each of the drivers present, mentioning their team and asking some unimportant questions.

Sebastian, who was the last in line, seemed visibly bored and acted as such, despite the multiple glances Roeske was sending him from her seat, until it was his turn.

"Now let's move on to one of the youngest on the grid: Sebastian, what do you expect from this weekend?" the curious presenter asked. "And, most importantly, are you worried about the rain?"

The young man regained his composure and approached the microphone.

"I have no expectations: I just want to do my best and not die of boredom until I get my first victory," he commented with his characteristic humor. "Regarding the rain, it's like a surprise visit from your mother-in-law, you know? It can show up at any time, hurt you a lot, and even be uncomfortable and challenging, but you can't deny that it adds excitement," the guy got a bit more serious. "Jokes aside, I think all of us would prefer it to be dry and sunny on Sunday, but rain is also part of the show, and if it comes, I'll welcome it with open arms."

The man, after thanking Sebastian with a look, turned to the audience and opened a brief round of questions to the journalists. Surprisingly, almost all of them were directed at Sebastian, who had become a sensation after his announcement as Mark Webber's future teammate at Red Bull Racing next season.

It was normal for everyone to want to know more about that guy from Heppenheim who showed promise.

"Sebastian, do you think you could outperform any of the Ferraris and achieve a good result for Toro Rosso?"

"I don't know, it could be. What do you think, Kimi?" he laughed, looking at the Finn with humor. "Ferrari is incredible, and Monza is one of their homes. I'm here to compete and try to do my best, so I'll strive for that."

Vettel nodded slightly, thanking in a whisper and giving the floor to a blonde reporter, with light eyes, whose name he thought he remembered being Sally.

"Vettel, next year you'll join Red Bull Racing. Anything you can tell us?"

"The best is yet to come," he replied, winking at her. "I hope to see you then. You know I'm always ready to answer your questions, Sal."

The questions continued, and they were even directed at the other three men accompanying Seb. Some were more technical, and others focused on the driver's mentality or the team's strategies, but that didn't prevent Wagner from getting bored. Throughout the forty-five minutes it lasted, she paid attention and took notes in a notebook she always carried with her because any information, no matter how minimal It was, would help her learn more about that extensive sport. Being there was a privilege she never thought of, so she couldn't waste anything because she didn't know when she would have the chance again.

Time passed faster than she initially thought. When the one who had directed the whole event, named Carlo, declared the session over, Diana remained somewhat mesmerized watching the journalists and photographers begin to gather their belongings and leave the press room, in an orderly manner for security reasons. She thought about staying a little longer, but she ended up succumbing to the pressure, getting up and heading towards the exit while keeping her gaze on Sebastian, who was saying goodbye to his colleagues.

Diana decided to wait for the driver at the entrance, but seeing that everyone, except him, had left, she went to the Toro Rosso box hoping he would be waiting for her there. The girl didn't know what to expect from the blonde, but being stood up after waiting for an hour and a half wasn't among her possibilities.

Although she didn't expect much from the German either. [...]

September 13th Saturday

Even though the pain Diana felt in her stomach was still quite noticeable, she had to put on a brave face and act as if everything was perfectly fine. She knew there were sick leave allowances even for interns, but the girl didn't want nor could she afford to risk losing it all over a simple stomachache.

The day before, Friday, she didn't take part in the two free practice sessions because a noticeable discomfort in her stomach began to manifest in the early hours. Initially, she attributed it to the disappointment she had felt after being stood up by the German; when vomiting started and diarrhea set in, she didn't hesitate to go down to the hotel lobby, ask for the nearest hospital, and call a taxi.

"I'm afraid to say that it might be gastroenteritis, Miss Wagner," the emergency room doctor informed her after running some tests. "Refrain from your work for a few days and stick to a bland diet."

The cake that Amelie had made for her birthday and that her father had insisted on keeping in the refrigerator for five days, despite being quite poorly made, seemed to be the culprit of her indigestion.

There was barely half an hour left for the qualifying session to begin. Quickly, she passed her accreditation through the scanner as fast as she could, holding onto her belongings tightly, and ran to the Toro Rosso garage as fast as she could, trying to stave off the urge to vomit. She had a terrible night, battling constant stabbing pains and nausea, making her feel like a pregnant woman. If it hadn't been for a pill that had been prescribed to her after insisting a lot, her diarrhea would probably still be continuing at that moment. She clenched her teeth tightly to avoid vomiting right there, and she was grateful that it was raining because her umbrella made her less noticeable.

The moment she saw her workspace, she hurried even more, closing the umbrella and placing it in a stand at the entrance. The looks were already starting to intimidate her, but she didn't feel panic until she reached the area where Alex, Seb's track engineer and, let's say... her boss was.

"Where the hell were you yesterday, Wagner?"

Fiori quickly took off his headphones, leaving them around his neck, and turned to look at Diana sternly. His expression showed a mix of anger and annoyance, and the girl knew that nothing good was coming because this forty-year-old was not particularly known for his empathy and kindness.

"I informed a public relations girl you have around here, I think her name is Martha or something like that," the girl explained, trying to justify herself, "and I also brought the medical certificate. I've had gastroenteritis since Friday morning, and I went to the emergency room. The doctor advised me to take a few days off, but I decided to come today."

The man reluctantly took the paper and examined it thoroughly, looking for any sign that this information might be false. He couldn't believe that a young girl was there; let alone, that he had to endure her.

Although what Alex Fiori hated most about her was that Sebastian praised her so much.

"Are you feeling better now?" the Italian inquired, still absorbed in the medical lines.

"Yes, a little, thank you," the blonde sincerely thanked. "Really, Mr. Fiori, I'm so sorry I couldn't attend yesterday, and I'm even more sorry they didn't inform you. I didn't have anyone else's contact."

The man took the paper grudgingly and examined it thoroughly, looking for any reflection that this information might be false. He couldn't believe that a girl was there; let alone that he had to endure her.

"Let's hope you don't miss again for nonsense like this," he replied indifferently, tearing the paper aggressively. "I need you to be here and fulfill your responsibilities. That's why we tolerate you and pay you every month."

Diana just nodded, threatening tears to escape from her eyes.

"Of course," the girl tried to declare. "I promise I won't miss a day again, Mr. Fiori."

"Don't make promises you won't keep, Wagner," he bluntly replied as he headed towards Vettel. "Now just sit down and stay quiet during qualifying. I don't want to hear you."

The girl felt a knot forming in her throat as she watched her boss approach her pilot. She tried to maintain composure, but it was impossible: she shed a tear easily and wiped them away as quickly as she could to avoid drawing even more attention. She felt frustrated and powerless because she couldn't defend herself or express what she felt in those moments.

She did what his engineer instructed him. She grabbed her headphones, sat a bit farther away than usual, and started watching Q1 on the screen in front of him. It had only been about five minutes, and Alex's comments to Vettel were already resonating in his ears.

"Come on, Seb, you have to try to nail a perfect lap on the first try. We need to secure a spot in Q2."

"Copy," the German replied.

From her seat, Diana could see Sebastian's engineer gesturing wildly with his hands every now and then, upset with any maneuver the driver made. She observed from her monitor the laps he was doing: gradually, his times were improving, and although his performance was not the best, combined with the ineffective car, it was surprising to the Austrian.

"Seb, you're improving," Alex informed him as optimistically as possible. "We just have one chance to complete a lap, so try to concentrate as much as possible."

"Copy."

Sebastian pushed the car to its maximum, hugging every inch of the track without exceeding the track limits. Wagner was amazed, and she could hardly look away.

Fiori informed Seb that, for now, they were through to Q2, although it was still necessary for the German to extract a bit more speed from the car to ensure participation in the next qualifying round by a few milliseconds.

Every second that passed felt eternal for Wagner, who was holding her breath with excitement. Finally, when Vettel moved on to Q2, she could breathe easy. In the garage, cheers of excitement echoed, something that made her laugh because, in reality, he had only advanced about five positions on the grid, not a significant achievement, but a good merit given the ineffective car they had.

After a quick analysis of data and preparation for the Q2 strategy, of which Diana had not been a part but had listened attentively, as if she didn't care, it began.

The girl had heard that they had decided to stick with the wet tires they had used in the previous session. It seemed like a mistake to her because a majority of the other drivers would be using new pairs. Therefore, when they saw Sebastian's times, despite being good, starting to slow down compared to others, they hurried to call him to pit stop. Diana couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't the most qualified to judge, as she wasn't an expert, but if they paid more attention to her, such things wouldn't happen so often.

The girl still had a long way to go, but let's say Wagner saw a few DNFs coming and despite sending direct messages warning, they ignored her.

Maybe that's why her boss disliked her so much.

"We can't afford mistakes, Seb!" Alex shouted over the headset as the German went out on the track again. "You have only one damn chance, so I hope you make the most of it."

Sebastian sighed, possibly a little tired of the man's comments.

"Alex, I know. I'm trying my best."

Diana felt the tension escalating in the box. Bourdais had been eliminated from Q1, and Seb was their only hope. In those moments, every lap was crucial because telemetry warned them that there were only tenths of a second between drivers, making the competition even more fierce.

The shouts continued exchanging between the engineer and the driver, and the girl began to sympathize with Vettel. While she understood the position Alex had to maintain, at the same time, she was aware that he was risking his performance, annoying him and adding even more pressure to the equation.

"You can't just make rookie mistakes at this stage, Vettel! I need you to perform a fast lap. Take advantage now that there's no traffic."

The guy just accepted the order, frustrated with the behavior he was getting from his engineer. It wasn't the first time he had spoken to him like that, but it definitely seemed like his typical qualifying anger was exacerbated by the absence of a certain girl the day before.

Sebastian continued pressing as much as he could, cutting every corner and straightening every turn, trying not to make too many corrections due to the rain, and even overtaking those who were in his way on his lap, even when they were at high speeds and he could risk losing control of the vehicle.

Diana began to feel panic at that moment. He shouldn't risk so much because he could crash or go off the track at any moment.

But we're talking about Sebastian Vettel. Of course, he would try to be the best.

When the session timer hit zero, and the guy crossed the checkered flag, he immediately found himself in the third position. Diana felt immense relief and also a subdued excitement, seeing that Seb had advanced to the final qualifying session.

The path to the pole position was close, and everyone at Toro Rosso was aware of it. Now, more than ever, the Austrian could sense how tense her boss was. The good thing was that his nerves seemed to be under control, as all he did was send encouragement and opponent data to the German.

"Come on, Seb, the pole is yours! Just concentrate and don't think about anything or anyone else."

"Thanks for reminding me, Alex. I was already starting to think about what I would do tomorrow when I won the race," Vettel replied sarcastically.

Diana couldn't help but silently laugh at Sebastian's comment. She didn't understand how, despite the pressure, he always found a way to maintain his sense of humor.

"Sebastian, don't say or do stupid things," Alex scolded him. "We need a bit more time to secure P1 for tomorrow. Hamilton is getting closer to your times quite rapidly."

"I'm trying my fucking best, okay?"

The tension increased with each passing second, and Diana couldn't take her eyes off the screen, following every move the German made on the track. The girl silently prayed, hoping that everything would finally go well for both the guy and her team.

"Seb, the pole position is yours!" the engineer shouted, gripping the microphone tightly as he stood up. "You're the best, you've done incredible!"

The girl felt a wave of joy and, why not say it, relief, upon hearing that Vettel had secured the first position on the grid for tomorrow's race. She was impressed by the guy's skills: it was undeniable that the Toro Rosso didn't measure up to other cars, so this was an impressive achievement and, especially, a reason to celebrate for the whole team.

All team members started celebrating immediately, leaving all their belongings on any surface they found on their way to parc fermé. Everyone was ecstatic, and Diana was no exception. With a smile that covered her entire face, the girl made a motion to get up to join her colleagues and, above all, congratulate the driver on his first major achievement in Formula 1.

Before she could even get up from her seat, Fiori was already in front of her, arms crossed, giving her a cold and disdainful look.

"Where do you think you're going, Wagner? I hope it's not where I think it is. You better stay here. You have no place in the celebration."

Diana felt a bit confused and, above all, hurt by the man's comment. She was aware that she wasn't a favorite among some staff members, including Alex, but the way he belittled her made her feel like garbage.

"Mr. Fiori, I'm also part of the team," the blonde commented. "I would like to congratulate Sebastian on his achievement."

"You don't need to congratulate him, that's the business of the team members, not interns like you. Just stay here and clean everything up. I don't care what time you finish, I want everything to look perfect tomorrow."

The intern nodded with a lump in her throat. She wanted to shout a thousand things at that Italian man who made her feel worse and was, in part, the main reason she wanted to give up on everything she had ever dreamed of. It was clear that all kinds of sexist comments bothered her. The treatment she received, and that she had just received, as if she were a mere servant, made her feel like she was living in Cinderella's story, except that she didn't have evil stepmothers or stepsisters, and of course not a prince charming to save her or, at least, help her.

Hours passed and the rain continued to fall vigorously. Despite this, the party for Toro Rosso did not stop and, as she heard from some people who approached to take their personal belongings, it would move to a nearby bar.

Diana felt a little more at ease when everyone left. Slowly, she went from picking up tools, office supplies and even some pieces of the cars, to sweeping and mopping the floor, ending up cleaning the bathrooms, which seemed not to have received bleach since they were created. It might seem a bit strange, but that was serving the girl to clear her mind and forget everything she had been told and done over six arduous months.

Feeling displaced was an understatement, and she knew she had to do something about it. Her stubbornness and, especially, the fear of losing everything made the Austrian not dare to challenge Alex's authority. She feared that if she didn't comply with what was asked of her, she would be kicked out of her position in the internship program, and an opportunity like that would be hard to come by again.

In those moments, surrounded by the noise of falling drops and the hum of the air carrying a fallen leaf from the trees, she realized she was alone and always would be.

She was the only thing she had in her life, and she had to protect it; breaking down or giving up at the slightest thing was an unviable option.

She had to fulfill a dream and couldn't afford to believe the comments she received every day because, in the end, each and every one of them was a lie.

"Hey, are you here?"

The young woman turned towards the garage entrance and saw Sebastian dressed in a gray team-logo T-shirt, jeans, and a completely wet umbrella in his right hand. His gaze seemed sad, and he appeared concerned for the girl in front of him.

"You shouldn't stay alone here, especially with this shity weather," the driver declared entering the place.

Wagner tried to force a smile, although she couldn't pretend in front of the only person she didn't consider a threat there. Her tears threatened to escape, but she controlled herself enough not to break down.

"I'm fine, Sebastian," the blonde tried to disguise. "Don't worry about me. I just have a couple of things left to pick up, and then I'll head back to the hotel."

"I know you're very smart, that's why I know you know, as much as I do, that you shouldn't be doing this," the guy spat out seriously. "It's not your responsibility: there are people from the cleaning department who take care of it." He approached the girl and embraced her. "You should be at the dive bar we were at, drinking tequila shots and celebrating with the rest of the team that I got a pole position."

"And the first one, by the way," Diana received an unfriendly look from the German, hinting that she should stop making excuses. "Fiori told me to stay here, and I didn't want to intrude on that celebration that seems so important to keep exclusively for team members."

Sebastian felt even worse for the girl. He had heard through his radio everything Alex had said to her before the start of the qualifying, and, even though he was aware that she had been mistreated and belittled by her engineer for a few months now, he now felt very guilty about it. Also, leaving her hanging because he got caught up in a phone conversation didn't help his mood.

"You don't have to listen to Alex. You're part of the team no matter what they tell you, and you have the right to come with us."

"Sebastian," the girl lowered her gaze, trying to calm herself, "I don't want to cause trouble or bother anyone. I'm here to learn and be useful."

"You are useful, Di," Vettel put a hand on her shoulder and lifted her chin to make her look at him, "it's just that no one, apart from me, has seen what you're capable of yet."

The Austrian could see sincerity in Sebastian Vettel's eyes. She was still a little hurt because she had been waiting for him for hours, excited because finally, she could do something different than just going to the hotel, but she knew that there was finally someone who supported her, and, above all, that she wasn't alone.

Perhaps, Wagner thought, she finally had a friend.

"Thank you, Seb... Sebastian, I mean," she expressed with gratitude, correcting herself quickly.

"You can call me Seb. My inner circle calls me like that," the driver explained, "all thanks to my sister Lara. She's ten, but if you saw her with Mick... They seem like two completely different people despite being born just a year apart."

Diana didn't understand much but she just nodded, confirming what the driver had said. She was almost finished mopping the floor, and that meant it was time to take her belongings and go back to her hotel. Tomorrow was race day, and they had to be ready early in the morning.

Both of them made sure everything was perfect and headed toward the exit of the paddock at a calmer pace than they should have. The night was colder than usual, bothering Diana a bit, who was surprised at Sebastian's ability to endure such low temperatures.

Without a doubt, that guy surprised her quite a bit.

"Are you leaving now?"

Vettel stopped a few meters from the girl, looking at her intently. He was heading to the parking lot, and he thought Wagner would too. It was not just a matter of weather conditions, but also the late hours of the night.

"Yes," Diana objected. "My hotel is about half an hour from here. If I hurry, I'm sure I'll be there by ten-something."

"No way you're going to go alone so late," the German replied. "There are a lot of crazy people out there and I don't want anything to happen to my favorite paddock girl before I win my first race."

"Seb, I'm serious," she thanked him, "but I can do it for myself. I do this every weekend, and nothing has happened to me."

Sebastian tilted his head, imperceptible at the words coming out of the girl's mouth.

"No, nothing has happened to you yet," he insisted. "From now on, I don't care what you say or any excuse you come up with, you're going to have a chauffeur and a bodyguard."

Wagner reluctantly accepted her companion's offer, knowing that arguing with him made no sense.

The car journey was enjoyable, and deep down, Diana was thankful that Sebastian had insisted on taking her to the hotel. The night was darker than usual, and the rain had left many streams and puddles of water that were hard to avoid walking. The temperature had dropped noticeably, something she could feel from the cold air seeping through the windows of the BMW that Vettel was driving.

"Thanks for bringing me, Seb," the girl said from the passenger seat. "I have to admit you were right. It would have taken me much longer if I had walked."

The blonde didn't say anything. Instead, he turned on the radio, and a soft melody, the first chords of Viva la Vida by Coldplay, began to resonate throughout the vehicle. Diana, who declared herself an absolute fan of the band, just started humming the song quietly, feeling embarrassed about her own voice.

The driver, glancing at the girl but keeping his eyes on the road, couldn't help but be moved by the scene he was witnessing. He didn't know Wagner well, but he knew she was a girl worth getting to know, and over time, they would become good friends.

"Do you like this song?" Sebastian asked Diana.

The girl just nodded and said it was one of her favorites. Vettel, on the other hand, turned up the volume of the song, which was now at the chorus.

"Come on, sing!" Seb encouraged her. "No need to be shy. It's just you and me."

Diana began to let herself be carried away by the confidence that Sebastian had inspired in her and started singing softly, letting the music fill her. Gradually, her singing voice became louder and more confident, leaving her shyness behind.

"See? I told you, you have an incredible voice!" Sebastian affirmed, utterly captivated by the girl's voice.

Blondie blushed at her companion's comment, but she continued singing enthusiastically. Soon enough, Seb joined the impromptu concert, which, along with the sound of rain hitting the metal roof, mixed with the music and their laughter, created an atmosphere they had never experienced before. They had only known each other for a few months, but at that moment, they felt like they had known each other their whole lives.

The car finally stopped in front of the hotel entrance. Quickly, they were greeted by a valet to whom Sebastian handed over the keys and a tip, which was greatly appreciated. Before Diana could get out of the vehicle, the driver rushed to go and open her door, a gesture that surprised the girl quite a bit. She knew about Vettel's flirtatious side, but the romantic side, not so much.

"Well, thanks for bringing me, Seb. It's time for me to go to sleep because, in case you forgot, I have to be well-rested to see you win your first race."

The German laughed at the clarification, although a bit sad to have to say goodbye to Diana already.

"None of that," he shook his head, "I want to make sure my Cinderella gets safely to her quarters."

The young woman nodded, and both started walking toward the hotel entrance. Throughout the walk to Wagner's room, silence settled between them, and neither seemed to want to break it. They hadn't spent the whole day together, but the hours they had shared had been incredible, and now neither wanted to say goodbye to the other.

As soon as they reached room 374, both knew that the farewell was imminent. Diana, who refused to accept that, opened the door and let the boy in, who accepted without any hesitation.

"Hey, Seb, about yesterday..."

Sebastian felt embarrassed. He knew he shouldn't have left her hanging, but the call lasted longer than expected, no matter how much he insisted that he already had plans with someone.

"Don't worry, Di," Vettel interrupted. "It's entirely my fault, and I apologize. An old friend called me, and I lost track of time."

Wagner took off her shoes and sat on her bed while continuing to listen to the blonde. Maybe it affected him that she had stood him up, but in the end, being so absent-minded, the same would have happened to her if she had gotten caught up in a conversation with her father and her sister.

"What's your friend's name?," Diana wanted to know.

"Hanna."

"Well, Hanna is a lucky girl," the blonde said candidly, ignoring the discomfort the guy was showing. "I bet we all would all like to have a friend like you: you can drive a car at around 300 kilometers per hour, you endure the cold perfectly, and you know more than one language, I wish I could!"

Sebastian laughed, although the guilt of hiding Hanna's true identity was eating at him. He wanted to be honest with Diana, and at the same time, he wanted to continue respecting his girlfriend's wish that no one knew about them, for now.

"But didn't you know more than one language?," Seb wanted to know.

"Yes: German, English, Spanish, and, if you consider it a language, Catalan."

"You're a catch, and I'm tremendously grateful to have you on my team, Di," Vettel asserted. "Fiori and everyone else may be jerks to you, but rest assured that next year, when I move to Red Bull, I'll fight to have you come with me," Diana looked at him in amazement. "No kidding, okay? I've talked to Britta and we've set in my pre-contract that one of the requirements is your transfer next year, with me. I have to talk to Horner about it," he declared, "but I know he'll be more than happy to agree."

Diana paled at that. Sometimes she forgot that her path in the next season was a bit uncertain, but she tried not to think about it and ruin moments like the one she was experiencing now.

She didn't know if she should ask, but Wagner decided to take the risk:

"Would you like to stay here, with me, for a while? We can keep talking or watch something on TV, but if you're too tired I understand if you want to go back to your hotel."

"Are you sure of what you're saying, Diana Wagner?"

"Absolutely, Sebastian Vettel."

Both young people spent almost until the early hours of the morning talking mainly about the race the next day, exchanging some strategies that, undoubtedly, couldn't be taken into account due to Diana's position as an intern. Seb, who had discovered that his new friend was more than just a pretty face in the first days of her arrival, realized that she knew more than she seemed, and many of her ideas were a thousand times better than Alex's.

They continued chatting until, around one thirty in the morning, exhaustion made Sebastian fall asleep on Diana's bed, who followed suit shortly after.

Maybe Hanna Prater would never find out that, the night before Sebastian's first victory, he spent it with the love of his life. His true love. They didn't do anything beyond talking, but they did get to know each other a little more, and maybe they began to develop feelings for each other. Although it was still early to know for sure.

However, there is a very famous saying that is often said, and that both young people in that hotel room had overlooked: never say never.

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