#flask answers

[anemptyflask]

The entire family is online, jules, bae, calm down now

They're all so down bad for him it's honestly hilarious.

But same Jules, same <3

[anemptyflask]

not to be that person, but which f1 driver has their insta comments looking positive? hadjar refusing to make nice with kimi while he was still in the car got him more hate than what kimi got for qatar. and you had toto wolff publicly flaming hadjar- another teams junior driver- for not immediately being gracious towards kimi after an incident and no one said a word.

liam lawson gets so much shit for stuff that isn't his fault- starting with getting daniels seat and then checos. no one had anything to say about that? it was his first year too. checos fanbase still harasses him when it isn't even his fault.his insta comments never look nice. hamiltons fanbase harassed gabi for being in a video with nelson piquet. every single driver has had hate directed towards them for stupid reasons. but merc and the fia only stepped up for one of them.

This is what I'm saying!! The coddling of Kimi is insane. Being in the public eye means being in the public eye. You're going to get criticized. But Kimi can't handle it. He cares too much what people think about him and spends too much time reading comments on social. I get it. He's a kid. He should get some allowances. But to say that he's had it worse than any other junior driver is a bold faced lie.

I'm not even an isack fan but he reacted fine? Like I don't blame him for not immediately accepting Kimi's apology. But you didn't see the fia coming to his aid.

And I will always scream about how Mercedes and Toto treated rookie and young Max. He received no grace and no help while being torn apart online and in the media pen. People were absolutely cruel to an 17-20 year old and he got double the hate Kimi has ever gotten.

So while I do have a soft spot for Kimi I'm so frustrated with the babyfication of him. He's not a toddler. He is a grown adult. You can hold him just as responsible as you would hold any other driver.

[anemptyflask]

I love dark dwtd so much it’s so sick but seems rlly well thought out and also much more heartbreaking

I always see Fernando and max as really close, Fernando almost like a father figure to him and whatnot, could we maybe get some dark dwtd Fernando reaction ?

Remember in the main timeline when Fernando asked Max if he wanted him to kill Christian for him? lol. tw blood 377 words

When the screen goes dark, the crowd gets louder. Fernando doesn't hear it. He doesn't hear anything except the rushing of blood in his ears. He doesn't see much either. Everything is tinged red, his sight narrowing to a pinprick. He feels like a hound hunting for fresh blood. One thought. One goal.

They're frantically shutting up the garage, but Fernando used to drive for Alpine. He's been around the paddock for a long time. He knows how these things work.

Despite it all he slips in relatively unnoticed. Or maybe he's just too far gone to notice them noticing. It's instinctive in a way, but he knows exactly where Christian is hiding.

He's on the phone. Frantic. The words he's saying are lost to the echoes of blood rushing in his ears. They don't matter. No words can save him.

Christian's eyes widen as he catches a glance at Fernando. He steps backwards, hands out stretched. It's only a minor obstacle.

Before Christian can even utter a cry for help, Fernando's fist is connecting with his nose. Then again. And again. And again.

Christian is on the floor.

Fernando follows him there. Letting his fist fall until his knuckles are bloody and he can't tell where his begins and Horner's ends.

Someone is pulling him off. Dragging him to his feet.

His fist thirsts for more blood, but the hands won't let him. Someone is saying something is his ear but he can't understand them. The arms hold him tighter and the words repeat.

"Get out of here before the police arrive. Go."

He wrenches free from the hands, seeing Horner still on the ground. No one is helping him.

Fernando spits on him, taking satisfaction in the way he recoils, in the way his face is stained with blood and bruises.

If he had had a weapon, he thinks Horner would be dead at his feet. But he does not. So he will have to settle for the blood.

He's showed out a back door.

When he arrives at the Aston Martin garage, no one asks him any questions. He is simply nodded towards the bathroom to clean up.

As the red blood washes down the sink, his only thought is that it's not enough.

[anemptyflask]

ahhhh i miss dwtd and dark dwtd so much ❤️ might u be willing to give us a hint or snippet at what’s coming next? 👀

Dark dwtd part 7 Masterlist [Part 6]

The back of Max’s head hits the wall with a thud. George feels even more like he’s intruding. Rupert does not seem pleased with him being there either. Especially now.

Rupert lets a harsh breath out of his nose before turning back to Max. “Alright, how are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He croaks, sounding far from fine. But he at least seems present now. Mostly.

Rupert shakes his head, “You and me have a very different definition of “fine”.” 

“I’m okay.” He says, as if saying different words that mean the same thing changes his believability. “Where’s GP?” 

“My guess would be the Red Bull garage.” 

“Is he okay?”

And what kind of questions was  that? Was GP okay?He hadn’t been the one publicly exploited. Rupert seems to be thinking the same thing, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sure he’s fine, Max. You shouldn’t be worrying about him.”

“And Laurent? What of him?” 

“What about him?” 

“Is he with Christian?” 

That… seemed like an odd question. 

“I doubt it. But you don’t need to worry about it. About any of them.”

There’s a beat of silence before, “Do you think Christian will think it is my fault? That I did this on purpose?” His voice has again taken on that high pitched panic. It would be concerning even if they hadn’t already covered this. Twice. 

George can’t help but roll his eyes this time. “Max, I promise you Christian has more important things to worry about than wondering where the video came from. And there’s no way he thinks it was you.”

Max’s head whips to the side like he had forgotten George was there. Maybe he had. 

“You do not know Christian like I know him.” 

“No, but I think he’ll be lucky to make it out of the paddock alive. Honestly getting arrested would probably be the safer alternative right now.” George certainly knows things would not end well if he ended up within ten feet of the man. 

For some reason, that sentiment seems to distress Max more. “No, no I do not want him hurt-"

“Max,” Rupert has moved to sit in front of Max again, running a hand up and down his arm. “You need to calm  down. You don’t need to worry about Christian.” 

“He is not all bad I promise, I promise sometimes he is good they simply played a bad moment so people would hate him. Christian told me this would happen if people found out- that people wold hate him. And hate me. That they would not understand-”

“Max.” Rupert grabs his chin, forcing eyecontact. “I do not want to hear you say his name again. We are done talking about him for now. Understood?” 

George feels as though he is going to break a tooth he is clenching his jaw so tight. This was getting out of hand. Max’s little trauma bond, stockholm syndrome, whatever this was, wasn’t cute and wasn’t funny. It was deeply deeply distressing. 

Max grabs Rupet’s hand, pulling it away from his face, his eyes have taken that wild look again, his breathing slightly erratic. “No, you don’t understand. What if Christian finds Laurent?” 

“That won't happen. And besides, Laurent can take care of himself.”

“Where’s GP?” 

Maybe they should get a freaking medic in here because clearly Max was in some sort of shock induced stupor. 

“Back at the garage. He’s okay.” 

“Do you think he knows? I don’t think he knows.” 

George raises his eyebrows at that. He’s pretty sure everyone in North America knew. Europe too. Maybe the world. 

“You need to stop worrying about him. I’m going to find something that will knock you out for a bit okay? Just sleep it off.” He starts to dig through him back. George isn't sure what he plans to give him but hopefully it will help and not make things worse.

"I need to talk to GP.” 

Rupert’s lips thin. “I don’t know that that’s a good idea right now.” 

“I need to see if he knows.” 

“Max-” 

“Does he know about the videos?” 

“I’m sure he does,, Max, but you don’t need to worry about it.” Rupert’s answer is fine. But George is hung up on the actual word. Videos. Not video. Plural. More than one. Max isn’t talking about what was on the screen. 

“No, no, not that, all the videos.” 

"All of them?” Now it’s Rupert’s voice that’s taking on a different edge. “You said you knew they existed but not of what, you think there are more?” 

“Red Bull has them. But GP doesn’t know. What if Christian or the police find out I don’t want GP to-”

“Red Bull has the videos?” George steps towards him, heart pounding as the pieces fall into place. “That video? You think it’s from Red Bull?” 

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” His voice cracks, fingers digging into the sides of his legs. 

“You- you didn’t do anything wrong, Max.” Rupert's voice is pinched, but he’s trying to bring things back under control. “You didn’t do anything.” 

“But I must have or he would not have shown it like that.”

“Who Max?” George snaps. He felt bad at the slight flinch but desperation was crawling at his throat. 

“Laurent of course, he said no one would see them so long as I did as I was told but I do not know what I did wrong. And now Christian is here and he is going to kill me and also maybe Laurent and- please I need to speak with GP.” 

Rupert’s face has shifted into something terrifying. George doesn’t move- doesn’t breathe when the door opens. Toto seems to sense the energy, freezing. Rupert's voice is low and  terrifying when he turns his attention to the Mercedes Team Principal. “I need to speak to you. Outside.” 

Toto looks between Max and Rupert and nods, opening the door again.

“But-” Max starts to move, but a pointed  finger holds him in place. 

“Sit.” Then to George. “Do not let him  out of your sight. If he hurts himself I will hold you personally responsible.” The door slams shut, leaving behind only silence. 

[anemptyflask]

Toto is singlehandely worsening kimis reputation by the day. Like kimi is great, a good driver, etc- but the way the media and toto act around him-maaking him up to be the next senna or verstappen-i fear is setting him up for failure. Like let kimi be kimi- he 100% has the personality and skills to carve out an identity

If Kimi somehow loses his lead (ie. Oscar last year) then Toto will turn around and say "Oh he was just a baby! A sophomore! It's not really his fault <3" and if he wins he's going to be hailed as the next great of all time.

And then next year... When there is a real fight, and he fails, everyone is going to boo and hiss and call him washed.

Toto is only setting him up for failure. He's making people turn on him because when you talk that kind of game when most people know it's not fully true, it causes resentment. Even if Kimi is not saying it about himself, it still comes across that way.

There's no denying Kimi is a good driver. But he also has a rocketship. When he doesn't and it's all on technical ability, he's going to be devastated. It's not setting Kiminup for failure just in the eyes of the public, but for Kimi himself.

Kimi will grow and learn. In his own time. He doesn't need a hype man. He needs a team principal.

[anemptyflask]

What drew you to Max initally when you first found out about f1?

He's Dean Winchester in a racecar

[anemptyflask]

I reread the fic about Kimi and Max, and now I'm wondering what about Gabi? I mean, how does Max view his relationship with Nico and their age gap(not necessarily in a romantic way, but they flirt so damn much)

Gabi

800 words

Gabi is not naive. He may be a rookie, but he feels older than the others. He is to a few, but he still fits within their age bracket. He just… feels older sometimes.

It's probably because of his brother. It's definitely because of his brother. But… Gabi is not naive.

“You and Nico,” Max starts one day, attempting to keep his voice neutral but already a hint of something that makes Gabriel bristle. “what is going on there?”

“What do you mean?” He thinks he knows. But Max of all people has no right to pass judgment on his less than traditional relationship with an older teammate.

Max shrugs, “You seem close, that is all.”

“Is this a bad thing?”

“No… I was just wondering.”

Max seems unsure of himself. This is odd. Max is always sure of himself. Especially when speaking with Gabi. There's a long stretch of silence before, “I have always liked Nico. He always has been kind.” Gabi let's the silence sit. Max will get to his point when he is ready. “But I know that kind people are not always good in their heart.” That was… an odd thing to say.

“Nico is not a bad person.”

Max looks at him. Look is a soft word. Max stares at him, squinting like he's trying to figure something out. “I believe you.” He finally says, relaxing slightly.

“Max?”

“You are different form the other rookies.”

It's an odd thing to say. A nervous laugh slips out, “Yes? In what way?”

“I do not have to worry for you as much. I know this.” Gabi nods slowly, an agreement but still unsure of what he means. “But-” and there it was. Whatever the actual point is. “I do not want you to think that because of this you cannot come to me. I am still here for you as I am the others.”

Gabi frowns, “I know.”

“Good.”

Silence settles, but it's not the normal, comfortable silence that rests between them. It feels heavy. Tense. “Max…”

“Hm?”

“Is something wrong?”

Max smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. “No, why do you ask?”

But something is wrong. Something happened. “I know Nico is older than me and it may be odd for us to be so close but it is nothing bad. I do not mind that he is older.”

Max is studying him again. Blue eyes piercing and discerning and looking so… old. He must find whatever he was looking for, because he nods again. “That is good. It is not wrong to want that. I just want to make sure you do. That is all.”

Gabi has questions he knows better than to ask. It's on the tip of his tongue. Did something happen with Daniel? Is it just that things ended bad or is it something more? And many others. But the most glaring question that Gabi knows he could never ever ask, Who hurt you? Who made you this way? Because he had been friends with Max for a long time now. And he sees the cracks. He sees the isolation and the true belief that his presence is barely tolerated, never wanted. And he can guess where this comes from. From his father. From the old guard of drivers. From a lot of people.

But this? He's been hurt. Gabi can tell.

He's heard similar things from Enzo. Warnings about the kind of people in motorsports. Things his brother had seen and heard and experienced that he would do anything to keep Gabi from experiencing. He knew to be careful in any power imbalance. That things could spiral out of control very quickly and be used against you. So he was careful. He knew he had to be.

Maybe it is just like that. Things Max has seen. Gabi can see how from the outside his and Nico’s relationship could be grounds for concern, but there really is no reason for it. Gabi is not an idiot. So maybe Max has just seen things in the past and wants to make sure everything is okay. Maybe Max had been approached by someone when he and Daniel had gotten so close and he was simply returning the favor.

Or maybe… maybe Max was speaking from personal experience.

But even if that were true, what could Gabi do about it?

Maybe he would check with Enzo. See if Max had ever said anything to him.

“I appreciate it.” Gabi finally says instead of all of the thoughts running through his head. “But I am okay. I would tell you if I was not.”

“That is, of course, all I ask.” Then as of snapping on a mask and becoming an entirely different version of himself, he claps his hands together. “Now tonight, did you want to play FIFA or COD?”

[anemptyflask]

omggg do it!!! I can also picture george post op being scared to touch max because of the stitches and max rolling his eyes and just hugging him because it hurts but it hurts less if george is there

960 words of Gax appendicitis fluff/hurt/comfort (mild medical whump) based on this post

Max is fine. He's fine. Max is fine.

He runs it through his head again and again and again because he's not sure he quite believes it. Not sure if he'll ever believe it. Because it had been bad. It had been so bad. And Max was still pale. Too pale. And too thin.

It's an idle thought in the back of his head that he's not sure if Max will make weight. That thought is quickly shut down as that's likely the furthest thought from Max or his team’s mind. Well, from the team's mind, Max is probably thinking about it.

But Max could have died. Nearly did. Because he's a stupid idiot who after nearly thirty years of life still doesn't know how to listen to his body.

“George,” his eyes snap to Max who's looking at him with an infuriating half smile. He should not be smiling. In fact he should be banned from smiling until he learns to take care of himself and refrains from giving George a heart attack. “You are thinking too loud again.”

He scoffs, “At least I think. You don't think at all.”

“Come here,” Max reaches up a hand and George tries to ignore the tremor even more noticeable with the IV snaking up his arm.

“No.” He doesn't want to reward him for this. In the same way he wouldn't reward a dog for making himself ill for getting into chocolate.

“George,” he says again, softer this time, shaking hand still out stretched. Waiting. “I am okay.”

That wasn't what this was about. It wasn't. It was on principle. It wasn't because he was afraid. It wasn't that he was afraid that if he touched him he would hurt him somehow. (Because not long ago everything had hurt him. Every movement. Every touch. Everything had hurt and he had seemed so broken and pitiful and-) It wasn't because he was afraid. Not of the moment he touches skin to find it cold and clammy and lifeless. Not that this was some sleep deprived illusion that would snap away and send him back into reality the moment he let it. Not that.

“I am okay.” And again, Max is speaking gentle. He shouldn't be doing that. It only reinforced that something was wrong. “Stop looking at me as though I am going to disappear.”

“I hate you, you know.” George says, but he steps forward and places his own hand in Max's. Only because he's about to leave the country. Only because if - God forbid - something did happen while he was gone, he'd never forgive himself.

“I know.” Max smiles, lacing his fingers through George's and letting the weight drop.

George holds it steady, slowly bringing it down to the side of the bed.

Max is already slightly raised against the bed, but when he places his other hand down as though he's going to lift up again, George squeezes his hand tighter. “Don't. You'll tear your stitches.”

“I'm fine, George.” He rolls his eyes but aborts, not landing nearly as gently as George would have preferred.

He keeps saying that. Saying it like it's true. Like it wasn’t- “It’s the first Grand Prix of your career you won't be racing in.”

“Thank you for reminding me.” Max grumbles and George regrets bringing it up. He knew it was a sore spot for him. How could it not be? He wants to say well you'd be there if you got yourself checked out when you should have. But then he simply would have missed the last race, so it all shakes out the same in the end. Though George might be able to better sleep at night if things hadn't gone this way.

“You think too much for someone who also talks too much.”

“Are you actively attempting to run me off?” There was a time when he might have snapped the response, instead he finds his thumb running up and down the side of Max's hand.

“You need to go.” Max says too seriously. “It is just precautionary now. You cannot miss a race for me. I will be okay.”

But what if something else happens? What if there are more complications? What if they were wrong and the window for sepsis hasn't passed? What if-

Movement of his hand draws him out of the spiral as it's brought up and lips brush the back of his wrist.

“Be careful.” He finds himself saying. Their entwined hands drop onto Max's ribs and he tries not to stiffen at the contact, not wanting to cause him any more undue pain.

“I am not going to break, George. Though I am not so sure about you.”

“Very funny.” But it's not too far off. He had broken in a way. However that wasn't for Max to know the full extent of.

Finally, George sighs, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his forehead, lingering a moment in an attempt to see if there are any residuals of a fever. He's warm, but not to the extent of before. “I should go.”

“Yes, you should.” But Max doesn't release his hand. Maybe he's not as unaffected by all of this as he tries to let on.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. You stayed longer than you needed.”

He wants to refute it. Say no, you're worth this. You're worth more than this. You deserve someone by your side always. Through everything. But he doesn't say it. Because Max wouldn't like that even if he maybe should hear it.

But no. He doesn't say it. Maybe later. When he comes back. He may not say it, but he can prove it. And Max can prove that he's fine. That he's staying in his own way.

So long as they can both prove it to each other.