Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Mercedes hospitality was buzzing with activity after the race. Engineers trying to have everything settled and organized before loading everything to the trucks to be transported for the next race. George doing his “dad routine”, meaning - fussing and running like a headless chicken trying to get Kimi to eat something that wasn’t gummy bears. Outside, Max Verstappen walked by, looking bored because Laurent was still busy with the media.

“Max!” Kimi perked up immediately.

“Yo, kiddo. Nice drive. Didn’t crash into anyone, that’s an improvement.”

George instantly tensed, crossing his arms looking at Max like he just murdered Toto. “He did a lot more than simply avoid crashing, Verstappen. His tire management was superb.”

“Relax, Papa Bear. I’m not insulting your cub.”

Big mistake. Just as the word "cub" came out, Kimi hid his face in Max's chest and clung to him like a baby koala.

“…Mama,” he mumbled.

The room went silent.

“WHAT?” Max blinked.

“You smell nice. You’re my Mama now.”

Engineers are debating if they need to call the medics as George was on the verge of a full meltdown. “Pardon me? No. Absolutely not! That’s my cub. Let him go Kimi! Right this instant, or no more gummy bears for you!”

Kimi only latched on tighter like an anaconda “No! Papa mean. This is my Mama.”

Max gave him a clumsy pat. “Oh for fucks sake! Do I need adoption papers for this? Or a car seat?”

Half the engineers were choking on their drinks while the other half were pinching themselves if they are dreaming.

“Max, stop encouraging him!” George snapped so loudly that it even made Max worried that he was going into cardiac arrest right there and then. “This is not funny!”

“Oh, come on Russell. Look, he’s so cute! Little cub calls me Mama and clings to me like a baby. Maybe I’ll keep him.”

“Keep him?! He’s not some stray cat you found outside!”

Kimi growled when George tried to pry him off. “Mama said I can stay.”

“I literally didn’t, but sure, whatever.”

That was the moment when Toto walked in, looking like someone had dragged him there against his will. He took one look at the scene - Kimi wrapped around Max like an anaconda, George growling like a manic t-rex - and sighed so hard it can be heard in the Red Bull Hospitality.

“Do I even want to know?”

“He imprinted on him!” George shouted like a banshee.

“Of course he did,” Toto muttered.

Max just smirked. “What can I say? Cubs love me.”

“This is not happening! This is a disaster! The FIA will hear of this” George was now running a hand through his hair, clearly seconds from pulling it out. “Max, you can’t just be his Mama!”

“Why not? You’re Papa, I’m Mama. Mercedes–Red Bull Happy Family. FIA will love it.”

“That is NOT—”

Kimi looked up then, all innocent plus sparkly eyes. “So Papa and Mama are friends now?”

George groaned like his soul left his body, asking God if he’s a criminal on his past life to experience this.

Max was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, while Kimi clung like superglue. George looked two seconds away from calling Laurent to complain about “cub theft.”

“Relax. He’ll grow out of it.”

“Nope,” Kimi said cheerfully.

“I’m never letting you near him again,” George muttered.

“Good luck with that,” Max grinned. “Your cub loves his Mama.”

And just like that, Kimi Antonelli became the paddock’s first case of accidental cub adoption—George’s worst nightmare, Laurent’s incoming headache, and Red Bull’s next meme campaign.

Chapter Text

When Laurent Mekies accepted the position of team principal of Red Bull Racing, he already expected odd, extravagant and over-the-top things happening—it's Red Bull after all—but what he never expected was seeing his star driver playing Mama Lion to the cute rookie of their number one enemy, well, number two now because, you know, McLaren.

Kimi remained as devoted to be attached to Max like a newborn koala when Laurent caught him in the Red Bull motorhome. George appeared to have been dragged into purgatory as he continues to put a hole in the motorhome’s carpet.

Laurent eyebrows went up seeing the bizarre sight. “So…is there anyone in class going to explain to me why the Mercedes’ rookie is calling my driver Mama?”

Max smiled broadly, he’s clearly enjoying it. “Don’t look at me. He did it all by himself.”

“Mama,” Kimi confirmed, grinning like a cat that ate the canary, hugging the Dutch driver tighter.

George then loses his shit. “He’s not your cub! He’s Mercedes! He’s — arrgggghhhh — Laurent, tell him this is crazy!”

As calm as ever, Laurent leaned on the table and nodded as if he had just discovered the answer on how to unlock the potential of the RB21. “This is perfect.”

“Perfect?! Help me God!” George sputtered. “It’s a disaster! He can’t imprint on Max Verstappen!”

“Why not tho?” Laurent smirked. “Mercedes keeps on saying Max is bad for the sport, yadda yadda, but clearly he’s wholesome family material. Mama Verstappen. The fans will eat it up.”

Max burst out laughing. “You’re actually gonna call me that?”

“You think I’m not printing shirts by tomorrow?” Laurent shot back.

George looked like Toto fired him. “For the hundredth time, this is not funny! This is a serious issue! Kimi is confused and —“

Kimi peeked up, puppy eyes on. “Papa, stop yelling at Mama.”

The room collapsed. Max doubled over, wheezing so hard you’ll mistake him having an asthma attack. Laurent nearly toppled over on how hard he is laughing. Even the Red Bull comms guy had to bolt outside, laughing so hard he nearly cried.

George groaned. “Oh for god’s sake!”

Laurent was already dialing on his phone, giving instructions to the Red Bull marketing team. “Get graphics started. Hashtag Mama Verstappen. Meme pack by six. And make sure there’s a joint custody joke in there.”

“You are NOT putting this online!” George lunged.

“Too late,” Laurent said, smirking. “By tonight, #MamaVerstappen will be trending and making news online.”

Max wiped tears from his eyes. “This is one of the fucking best day of my life.”

George collapsed into a chair as if he had lost a fight with an elephant. “I fucking hate you both.”

Kimi nestled tighter into Max’s side. “I love Mama.”

George buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this is my life.”

By the next morning, the news broke the internet.

HEADLINES:

BREAKING: Antonelli Calls Verstappen “Mama,” Russell Reportedly in Shambles

Motorsport.com

Red Bull’s New Family Dynamic: Mama Max, Papa George, Baby Kimi

Sky Sports F1

Russell Loses Custody Battle to Verstappen

The Guardian (satire section)

Mama Verstappen T-Shirts Already on Sale

F1 Merch Watch

Red Bull Racing Official Account (@redbullracing)

Family is everything ❤️🧑‍🧑‍🧒

#MamaVerstappen #PaddockFamily

Attached: a photo of Max hugging a very cute and smiling Kimi with George in the background looking like someone hasn’t renewed his contract extension.

Mercedes-AMG F1 (@MercedesAMGF1):

Kimi is still a Mercedes driver.

That’s all we’re saying, in case anyone forgets.

Lando Norris (@LandoNorris)

Mama Max, Papa George, baby shower when?👶🎈

Carlos Sainz (@Carlossainz55)

Vale… does that make me Uncle Carlos then?

Fernando Alonso (@alo_oficial)

Max mi hijo, I am not ready to be Grandpa.

Alex Albon (@alex_albon)

Please have someone create a custody chart, I need to understand the family tree.

Oscar Piastri (@OscarPiastri)

But think carefully, if Max is Mama, does that mean Laurent is Grandma? #GrandmaLaurent

George Russell (@GeorgeRussell63)

This is getting out of hand. There is no Mama. There is no Papa. Kimi is not anyone’s cub.

Please stop tagging me in memes.

Replies under George’s post

@MaxVerstappen1: Uh oh… Papa’s mad 😂

@redbullracing: Co-parenting isn’t easy, George ❤️

Red Bull sold out of their limited edition "Mama VerstappenTM" shirts by the end of the week, and Mercedes PR had to issue a sobering statement regarding "driver development programs," which no one read because everyone was too busy posting George memes with the caption "Single Dad Energy."

The press conference hadn’t even started yet but George already looked like he was undergoing a vasectomy. He sat stiff as a board, arms crossed, letting out a “ask me one question and I will disembowel you all with a fucking fork” sinister aura.

Of course, the very first question and the highlight of the afternoon is none other than Mama Verstappen.

“George, how are you feeling now that you have joint custody of Kimi?”

George looked like he tasted a lemon, a very sour lemon. “There is NO custody situation. Kimi is a Mercedes driver. End of discussion.”

Max leaned into his mic with the smuggest smile ever. “I have to apologize for Papa’s behavior, he’s still on denial stage.”

The whole room went batshit crazy. Reporters were laughing so hard, photographers snapping away.

“STOP CALLING ME PAPA!” George barked.

Next question. “Max, how’s the Mama life so far? Have you encountered problems adjusting? Sleepless nights? Post-partum?”

The reporter was clearly trying not to burst out laughing after saying that one.

Max spread his arms like a showman. “It’s easy. Kid eats, sleeps, follows me around. Honestly? I think I’m a natural.”

Kimi nodded seriously beside him. “Mama’s the best.”

George’s soul visibly left his body, his dignity gone. He dropped his head on the table. “This is hell.”

Reporters were cackling. Lando was live-streaming from the back row. Carlos was grinning like Christmas comes early. Even Alonso muttered, “I am not Grandpa,” while trying not to lose it.

Another journalist tried to ask with a straight face, “George, how does it feel to be part of F1’s newest family?”

George sat up straight, looks at the press with wild eyes. “It feels like TORTURE! There is no family. You are all delusional. Max is not Mama. I am not Papa. Kimi is —“

Kimi cut him off, sweet as a peach. “Papa, you’re yelling again.”

The room absolutely erupted. Max nearly fell off his chair, laughing so hard he wheezed into the mic. “It’s okay, cub. Papa’s just stressed.”

George pointed at Max like he sabotaged his car. “YOU. STOP. THIS.”

Max leaned back, smug. “Tell that to your kid.”

Kimi waved at George. “Hi, Papa.”

George looked ready to retire from Formula 1 on the spot.

And that’s how the Thursday press conference turned into a live custody battle, with Max happily playing Mama, Kimi being Kimi, and George dying inside while the entire paddock enjoyed the show

Chapter Text

Montreal was supposed to be George Russell’s crowning glory this year. Mercedes finally looked quick after nine races of their car behaving like a boat sailing in the Doldrums, the upgrades worked smooth like oil, and George had been sharp all through practice. But of course, the paddock was obsessed with one thing: Mama Verstappen.

By Saturday, Kimi Antonelli amazed everyone by sticking his car P4 in qualifying, proving himself as the best rookie in the grid so far.

During the press conference, Kim looked so proud but a bit uncomfortable with all the media attention he’s receiving. “I’m happy, the car felt good. And Mama helped me with the data last night.”

The entire media room burst out laughing.

George nearly died choking on his water with Alex not so gently patting his back. “MAMA HELP YOU WITH — oh my god, KIMI! YOU SHOWED HIM OUR DATA? HE’S NOT YOUR ENGINEER!”

Max just leaned back, smug as fuck. “Always happy to help the cub.”

Race Day (Sunday)

George launched clean from pole and held off Max into Turn 1. Behind them, Kimi went wheel-to-wheel with Piastri and muscled his way into P3. Not bad for a rookie.

The race turned into a pure strategy fight. George and Max traded fastest laps, both on two stops, while Kimi kept it cool and stayed within striking distance. Late in the race, the McLaren boys decided to ignore the papaya rules and self-destruct, with Norris and Piastri colliding. Suddenly, Kimi was clear to fight for his first podium.

George crossed the line first, Max right on his tail just 0.2s behind, and Kimi came home in third — only a second off the win. His very first podium in Formula 1.

Parc Fermé

George jumped out, fists in the air, finally a winner again after six months three weeks and two days — is he counting? No — But the cameras didn’t follow him. They caught Kimi instead, running straight into Max’s arms.

“Mama! Podium!” Kimi yelled.

Max laughed and hugged him tight. “That’s my cub. First podium! Yay!”

George couldn’t believe his eyes. “KIMI! WHY ARE YOU CELEBRATING WITH HIM?! MERCEDES DRIVER? HELLO?!”

Laurent Mekies casually strolled in with a grin. “Relax, Russell. This is history. Mama and Cub on the podium. Beautiful story. Great PR.”

George’s voice cracked. “PR?! THIS IS CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY!”

The Podium

George stood on the top step, trophy high, but instead of the expected cheering of his name, the crowd was chanting: “TU TU DU DU! MAMA VERSTAPPEN!”

Max is just casually waving at them from P2.

Kimi, standing on the third step, is giddily jumping. “That’s my Mama!”

George looked like he wanted the podium floor to swallow him whole. “Just kill me now.”

Cooldown Room

George collapsed on the couch, feeling like he run a hundred marathon. “Agghhh, finally a win! Took long enough.”

Kimi sat right beside him, buzzing with an energy god knows where he’s finding. “Mama, did you see my overtake on Oscar? I sent it!”

Max grinned and nudged him playfully. “Simply Lovely.”

George sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Seriously? I won, but nobody even asks me about the race.”

Kimi turned to him, wide-eyed like a fucking lemur. “It’s alright Papa, you were really good too.”

George blinked. “I’m not your Papa”

Kimi shrugged, totally serious. “Why not tho? You’re alpha. You’re my Papa.”

Max nearly fell off his chair laughing. “See? Family complete.”

George groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my god, no. No. I refuse —”

Then Kimi leaned against his shoulder, completely unbothered, just this happy little rookie with his first podium. “Thanks, Papa. First podium feels better with you guys here.”

George froze. For half a second, he almost melted. Then he pointed a shaking finger at Max. “This is all your fault.”

Max smirked, stretching out on the couch. “Don’t fight it, George. You’re Papa now.”

George muttered, “I hate this,” but didn’t move Kimi off his shoulder.

The cameras, of course, caught the whole thing.

Chapter Text

If the Spanish GP was already chaos with Max imprinting on Kimi, the cooldown room of the Canadian Grand Prix made it worse. Somehow, Kimi Antonelli had managed to also imprint himself to George Russell — live on camera.

The short clip became an internet favorite within minutes. Kimi leaning on George’s shoulder, looking like a golden retriever cub saying “Thanks, Papa. First podium feels better with you guys here.”

George looking like the apocalypse is here and the mischievous Max in the background, smirking like he’s the one who won the race.

Twitter, TikTok, Instagram, name it all, it’s a instant hit.

F1 Twitter Reactions

@redbullracing

Papa makes three 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 The family expands ❤️#MamaVerstappen #PapaRussell #CubAntonelli

@MercedesAMGF1

We don’t support this narrative

Replies

@redbullracing: Sorry Papa, it’s canon now

@mclaren: Kinda cute tho ngl

@astonmartin: George, congrats on parenthood

Lando Norris posted a selfie with popcorn

I take one race off the podium and suddenly we’re in Family Guy.

Carlos Sainz tweeted

Congrats Kimi! Don’t forget your real family though. Call your parents

Fernando Alonso

I am NOT ready to be a grandpa. Stop tagging me.

Fan Edits

-George photoshopped into a “#1 Dad” mug meme.

-Max and George in matching “Mama” and “Papa” sweaters, Kimi in a “Cub” hoodie.

-TikTok of Kimi overtaking with “He did it for Mama & Papa 🥹

FIA Press Bulletin (fake, but trending)

The FIA would like to clarify there are no rules against a driver being simultaneously classified as a Mama and a Papa. However, we are monitoring the situation closely.

George tried to fight back with an Instagram story

“I’m George, not Papa.”

But the comments were flooded

-Yes Papa

-Papa deny < Papa confirm

-PapaRussell >>>

Within hours, the hashtag #PapaRussell was trending worldwide.

Even Toto Wolff looked like he’d aged ten years when he was asked about it on Sky:

“We are here to race, not to discuss family arrangements. Please stop calling George Papa.”

The interviewer grinned. “But isn’t he though?”

Toto: visible malfunction noises

Silverstone 2025

Silverstone. George Russell’s stomping grounds. His Alpha turf, and this, His moment.

He’d been waiting for this all throughout the season  — the roar of a home crowd, the boundless energy and don’t let him start with the banners. The banners with his name on it.

His great expectations shattered when a bunch of them didn’t say “George.”

They said “Papa.”

And some, to his absolute horror, said “Mama Verstappen.”

George stopped dead outside the paddock gates, staring at those abysmal banners. “This is supposed to be my moment, my race.”

Max holding his essential bottle of death — aka Red Bull drink — walked past, cool Omega calm wrapped around him like a second skin. “Relax, Papa. It’s harmless. They’re just showing support.”

George glared hard. “Don’t call me that.”

Max leaned in, voice low, scent sweet and smug. “But they already do.”

George’s jaw tightened. This weekend was going to kill him, he’s sure of it.

Press Day

The journalists didn’t waste time and jumped on him smelling the blood in the water.

“George, you leave England a single man and return as a certified alpha parent, how does it feel?”

George gave a sigh. “I’m not here as anything else, I’m just here as an alpha and as a Mercedes Driver. That’s all.”

Max smiled, body turning towards Kimi. “But Kimi said you’re Papa now.”

Kimi who is sitting quietly three chairs down perked up instantly. “Yep Papa. That’s what I feel.”

George stared at him incredulously. “Kimi!”

The room broke down in laughter. Everyone was in stitches, well aside from George and probably his PR person with camera flashes going off like fireworks.

Practice Sessions

George on track looked sharp and all business.

Off track, well to put it simply, everything is a disaster.

Half the grandstands were waving “GO GEORGE” banners while the other half had things like MAMA + PAPA = CUB.

To make matters worst, he constantly saw Kimi drifting into Red Bull’s garage. He was scenting and pacing anxiously like a scared kangaroo out of his mother’s pouch, until Max turned on the Mama Lion mode and settled him down.

George at his wit’s end finally pulled him aside, Alpha command creeping into his tone. “Kimi. You’re a Mercedes Driver for Christ’s sake. You’re my responsibility. So stop going inside the Red Bull Garage.”

Kimi fidgeted, clearly anxious. “But Mama makes me feel safe.”

George huffed audibly, annoyed by the situation. “He doesn’t own you.”

Max leaned lazily against the garage entrance, Omega scent calm and infuriating. “Don’t worry cub. Don’t listen to Papa. Mama is always here.”

George’s hands clenched. “This is MY omega. MY team.”

Laurent Mekies was already jotting notes. “Perfect storyline. Keep going.”

George is going to kill someone soon.

Qualifying

Max nailed it again. Pole. Another one for Red Bull. Smooth, clinical, and smug as ever.

George? P4. Not bad, but not good enough for his home turf.

And Kimi? P7. Rookie strong, but not anywhere near his Miami/Canada highs.

In the drivers room after quali, George sulked in his chair while Max stretched in the couch like a cat. Scent calm and infuriating.

George muttered, “This is my race. It’s supposed to be mine.”

Max didn’t even open his eyes. “Then maybe don’t let Mama beat you by half a second.”

Kimi piped up softly on his place beside Max, still flushed from his qualifying lap. “Don’t worry, Papa. Tomorrow’s another day.”

George dropped his head in his hands. Great. Even his cub thought he needed cheering up.

Race Day

It’s Lights out and away we go.

The roar at Silverstone was deafening.

George got a decent start, but traffic swallowed him alive. He wrestled with the car all afternoon, stuck in midfield scraps, instincts screaming that he should be leading, controlling, showing his pack strength. Instead, every overtake was a fight, every lap a grind. He limped home in P10, fucking P10.

Max wasn’t much happier. A scrappy race left him fighting balance and traffic, no clean air to show his pace. He crossed the line P5, helmet radio full of frustrated Dutch swearing that can make every grandmothers blush.

And Kimi? Poor Kimi. His rookie Silverstone dream ended in the gravel, an early DNF after a tangle mid-pack. His omega scent had gone sharp and shaken as the marshals guided him away. The kid looked devastated.

Parc Fermé & Aftermath

The media pen was in no other words, a battlefield.

George stood there tall with a mic shoved in his face trying to keep his Alpha composure intact while reporters asked stupid things like:

“George, what a chaotic race. How does it feel to only score a single point at your home race?”

“Max still out-raced you — do you think you still have what it takes to be a champion?”

“Any words for Kimi after his DNF? He looked heartbroken.”

George’s jaw ached from answering the same stupid questions as much patience he can muster. “We’ll regroup. It wasn’t my cleanest weekend, but the car —“

From behind the corner of his eye, he saw Kimi hovering behind the media pen looking like someone killed his puppy in-front of him.  Head ducked with his scent tinged with embarrassment. And next to him, hovering like a mama lion is Max, who should’ve also been sulking about his own dreadful P5 was leaning in and murmuring to Kimi like it was a school playground pep talk.

George finally snapped. “Excuse me.” He ditched the mic, grabbed Kimi by the wrist, and marched him toward the Mercedes debrief.

The cameras followed.

Of course they did.

Inside Mercedes hospitality

Kimi sat on the edge of the sofa, shoulders tight and probably ruining his lips skin cells with how much he was chewing on it. “I’m sorry. I ruined it.”

George crouched down in front of him. His Alpha scent slipping protective without realizing it. “You didn’t ruin anything. You’re a rookie. Silverstone is a highly technical circuit, especially fucking Maggots and Becketts and the Chapel complex. You did your best.”

Kimi peeked up at him with wide tearful eyes. “Really?”

“Really. You’ll come back stronger.”

Max wandered in like an uninvited supermodel, plopping himself down on the arm of the sofa. “See? Papa’s good at pep talks. You should keep him around.”

George groaned. “Max, not now.”

But then Kimi leaned forward hugging the British driver in the waist and pressing his forehead briefly against George’s shoulder. His scent curling soft and sweet again. His omega instincts seeking comfort from the one he considered as his alpha parent. George instantly froze — every Alpha nerve in his body lighting up, feeling protective and fierce.

Without even thinking, he wrapped an arm around the kid and gently steadying him. George with his instincts already sliding reached out with his scent. Just a brush enough to tell Kimi he was safe.

Unfortunately for him, Max caught it.

“George.” Max’s voice was low, teasing but pointed. “Did you just scented us both?”

George blinked, heat crawling up his neck. “No. I — I didn’t.”

But Max leaned closer to the two hugging drivers, smug Omega smile spreading getting wider. “You did. You scented me too. Protective Papa instincts all over the place.”

Kimi giggled softly and just like that the tension had lifted. “See Mama? He’s really Papa.”

The room went deadly quiet except for the media cameras outside, who had caught just enough through the glass wall to set Twitter on fire.

George buried his face in his hands. “I hate all of you.”

Max grinned. “No you don’t.”

George muttered, “Unfortunately.”

Kimi beamed as his scent spread sweet as sugar. “Best family ever.”

George groaned again — exasperated but he didn’t let go.

It took minutes.

One shaky fan video from outside Mercedes hospitality made it to Twitter. George Russell, an Alpha, crouched in front of omega Kimi Antonelli, soothing and hugging him with the most obvious protective scenting anyone had ever seen. And what’s worse? Max Verstappen was there. Smirking like the smug Omega he was, looking like a proud Mama Lion presenting his cub on the top of Pride Rock.

The caption read

“GEORGE JUST SCENTED HIS WHOLE FAMILY LIVE ON CAMERA 💀 #MamaVerstappen #PapaRussell #CubAntonelli”

By the end of the hour, it had 2 million views.

Twitter/Instagram/X chaos:

@f1fanatic: so george tried really hard to deny of him being papa and then just publicly marked them both huh

@teamLH: lewis is never letting him live this down 💀

@redbullracing: FAMILY COMES FIRST 💙 #MamaVerstappen #PapaRussell

@mercedesamgf1: no comment.

Driver Reactions

Lando Norris: “Didn’t know silverstone was a wedding ceremony. Congrats to mama & papa 🍼”

Oscar Piastri: “Who gets custody when Max and George eventually fight?”

Lance Stroll: “I refuse to be an uncle. Don’t ask me.”

Fernando Alonso: “Stop calling me abuelo. I am still not grandpa.”

Charles Leclerc: “So guys, I’m curious. If Max is mama and George is papa… am i the godfather? 🤔”

Lewis Hamilton: “George said he wasn’t papa, now look at him. Full time dad, so proud of him!”

Daniel Ricciardo: “Please let me babysit cubantonelli, i promise not to break him. Swear.”

Pierre Gasly: “Guys, just imagine the christmas cards. And secret santa 😂.”

Esteban Ocon: “This is what happens when omegas team up.”

Fans in the replies:

“Mercedes PR in shambles right now 😭😭😭”

“Someone check on Toto he’s gonna pass out”

“Kimi smiling like the happiest cub alive. Protect him at all costs 🥺”

“George scenting max too. Yesh they’re mated in my head now.”

Meanwhile, Laurent Mekies at the Red Bull Motorhome

Posted a photo of Max, George, and Kimi side by side with the caption

Our favorite new grid family ❤️ #MamaVerstappen #PapaRussell #CubAntonelli”

George, under the post

DELETE. THIS.

Max liked it.

Kimi added three heart emojis.