#Don't write at work kiddos

[thebookishwitch]

My word document suddenly shut down while I was writing the next chapter of What you Wish For and I swear I woke up half the hotel with my very loud, very desperate shout of "NO"

[that-was-anticlimactic]

universe of constant spinning, every end a new beginning

“So, do you have an umbrella? That was like, your thing, right? At Claw?”

Ah—not again! He can’t keep zoning out while talking to people—especially his boss.

But… why was Reigen still here? It was late and he always got to work early. It wasn’t his job to stay and coddle his employees. “I—uh—no,” he stuttered, fingers twisting anxiously. “Mine was, uh, "is” broken, sir.”

‘Broken’ was a mild way to put it. More like it got destroyed.

[or, reigen gives serizawa an umbrella]

☔️2,651 words | serirei☔️

[vulpinesaint]

people who write kidfics and treat the children like a doll are so like. impenetrable to me. it obviously feeds into the larger phenomenon of people not seeing children as full people but like??? do you not see this child as a character of their own??? do you not think that they have their own motivations???? you sit down to write and all this child appears to do in your story is look cute and do nonsense baby things for the sake of your 'found family' dynamic which is just a nuclear family redux with adoptees? now come on now...

[giggly-squiggily]

To the anon who sent this request:

First of all- you are the furthest thing from a pest, friend! No worries at all abou that whatsoever!

Secondly: Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to include Damien in this one. I've tried it a few times writing scenarios in which it could work but it's just not clicking. I'm gonna keep it to just Anya, Loid and Yor for the request- sorry about that!

If you'd like- I'd be more than happy to write you something with Damien and Anya as a duo! (Or with their friend groups at the school- whatever you prefer!) Just send me an ask with a prompt and I'll add it to the list :)

Thanks for understanding!

[kelin-is-writing]

the way i got an idea for a dabi fanfic, but with how work is leaving me restless and doesn't give me a freaking pause... i don't know when i'll be able to write it

[em-dualism]

“...I know me making friends now means there has to be some changes.” The white Gemini Spark sat on the side of the Wave Road, watching his twin fight viruses. “Is it really that hard?”

“To stop sticking up for us?? Yeah, it kinda is,” Black insisted as he punched a virus into bits of data.

This was complicated, it was true. Before Pat had decided he wanted to try making friends, Rey needing to front hadn’t been as much of an issue. People around them saw Pat as being moody and standoffish sometimes, but mostly quiet. Not the kind of person people went out of their way to interact with. And that was a reality he could accept back then. Now one misstep could mean people becoming suspicious of him. He’d already had to make up lies to try and cover up...

“The fact you gotta worry about it so much is the problem, ain’t it? People are gonna think bad of us no matter what you do. It was easier when you were keeping to yourself!”

“I know, I know... but some people are different. And you know that.” White wasn’t going to back down so easily on this. 

Neither was his twin, however. “And why do I have to be the change here, huh? Have you thought about this at all? I’m so jarring to people because you let ‘em walk all over you!”

“...” White didn’t really have a good response. Wasn’t it easier for Rey to just calm down? He didn’t want to start another episode like what happened in Whazzap, but... what would be the easiest thing to do differently?

[queen-of-meows]

One thing I've noticed since I started being active online is that you tend to naturally gravitate toward poeple in your own age group.

There are several reasons for that. Interests like hobbies and fandom tend to be generational, and once you've found your niche, you will automatically engage conversations with poeple you relate to, who will likely be around your age.

Being on Tumblr from ten years ago until now and seeing how it's aged is so funny. When I first got here everything was like "haha lol so random, superwholock, taquitos, tumblr university!" but today I just scrolled past three different memes about tax season

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[mugglesauce]

.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Study

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Doing schoolwork while the team is round is not a good idea

The sun patch you were lying in was delightful.

The noise around you, was not.

You opened your eyes blearily, narrowing them to slits in annoyance.

Lucy stared at you and then pointedly turned the tv up in volume, laughing at your disgruntled look.

"Turn it back down," You said.

"No."

"Lucy," You whined," Please turn it down."

"Sorry, kiddo," Keira said as she appeared," But the rest of the team are coming over soon and you've got an essay to write."

You groaned at the reminder but sat up. The whole reason you had taken a nap in the first place was to procrastinate about writing your essay.

"Keira..."

"No, y/n," She said," Part of the agreement we made with your parents was keeping your grades up. I won't make you sit at the kitchen table to write it while the team is round but you have to get it finished today."

You groaned again but relented, grabbing your laptop from where it was charging nearby and pulling up your plan.

Your teammates flooded in through the next hour.

Asisat tapped you on the head as she passed to get to the kitchen. "School work?"

You rolled your eyes. "What gave it away?"

She laughed. "The fact that you've been staring at the screen for nearly twenty minutes and haven't typed a thing."

You darted your eyes across the room to look at Keira, who clearly hadn't noticed. You sent an awkward smile Asisat's way. "Don't tell Keira?"

"Your secret's safe with me."

The more people that arrived, the less you wanted to write your essay. The whole apartment had filled up with noise and even if you wanted to start typing, you were much more interested in hearing Claudia talk about the date she went on with her girlfriend.

You start typing your introduction before deciding you really can't be bothered right now and switch to writing about how Mark Antony's relationship with Cleopatra was the worst thing he could have done from the perspective of other Romans.

You were mindlessly typing and deleting your work when Frido and Aitana joined you on the sofa.

"How is your studying?" Aitana's English was getting much better now that she came around routinely to learn from Keira while you were forced to sit at the table and do your science work.

You gave her a deadpan look. "Oh, just great."

Frido laughed at your sarcasm. "Anything we can help with?"

"Unless you understand the intricacies of Mark Antony and Octavian's war for power after Caesar's death, then no."

Frido pulled a face. "You're studying that?"

"In theory."

Marta and Caro joined a moment later with cans of lemonade and snacks. You snatched up a KitKat quickly, anything to distract you from your next paragraph about Octavian's slanderous propaganda against his rival.

"How is our little student faring?" Marta asked, peering at your screen where you had repeatedly typed out 'I hate this class so much, I wish I could drop out'.

"Not good by the looks of it," Caro said even though it was obvious," What even is this?"

"Ancient Roman politics," Frido replied," It looks very boring."

"It's interesting," You said," Until you have to start writing essays and decide which of these horrible men was better."

"Who is better?" Aitana asked.

"...Octavian, because he won," You replied," But not because he was a better person. This is Rome - if you're not a bad person then are you really an Ancient Roman politician?"

The little group around you burst into laughter and Marta ruffled your hair. "You'll get it finished," She said," You're a smart girl."

Team bonding happened around you for the evening as you mindlessly typed and typed and typed until you were finally finished with your essay.

You stretched out in delight and headed into the kitchen where a to-do list hung on the fridge.

Irene, Sandra and Mariona were already there, studying it curiously as you grabbed a pen from the top of the fridge (standing on your tiptoes to reach it) before you crossed off your Classical Civilisations essay.

"That's a lot of work," Mariona said," This is for the whole month?"

"This is for the week," You replied, taking in her shocked look at your words," But I'm nearly done." You crossed off the Physics homework you finished last night along with the Maths worksheet you got done before practice this morning.

"It gets this bad?" Irene asked," I worry about when Mateo starts school properly."

You frowned. "I'm pretty sure that Mateo getting homework will be doing a drawing rather than writing essays."

"Well, if it helps," Sandra cut in," At least you've finished your essay now! You're free!"

You shook your head and pointed to the only thing Lucy had contributed to your list.

FINISH YOUR FUCKING PSYCHOLOGY ESSAY

"It's about language development in infants," You said, opening the fridge and grabbing some more lemonade.

When you finally made your way back to the living room, your seat had been taken by some of the girls so you ended up sitting in front of the armchair that Ingrid and Mapi had taken refuge on.

Instantly, Ingrid's hands threaded through your hair, massaging your scalp before pulling strands out of your face and pulling them into an intricate braid.

Apart from ever so slightly making you move your head to different positions, you were left mostly alone as you typed away about more research studies using brain imaging.

Mapi shifted behind you and you could tell she was trying to read over your shoulder.

"Why do you need to learn this?" She asked.

"It's interesting," You replied," I thought about doing psychology at uni before Barca signed me. I just hate writing about it."

"It looks boring."

"It's not," You said. Ingrid tied off your new braid and you turned to look at Mapi with a wolfish smile. "Besides, is it boring for you because it hits too close to home? Since you're such a child?"

Mapi swatted at you jokingly, lightly kicking you in the back until you shifted away from her with your laptop.

You refuge came in the form of the pile on the floor in front of the tv. Bruna and Jana welcomed you into the group instantly and you found yourself sandwiched between Ona and Esmee, who were viciously going against each other in FIFA.

"Is your essay finished?" Esmee asked," Keira told me not to text you after practice because you were writing your essay."

"Nearly," You replied," I've just got one more paragraph and then the conclusion. Ona's about to score, by the way."

With your words, Esmee just managed to block the shot as Ona shoved you in annoyance.

Jana and Bruna broke into laughter and peered over your shoulder.

"You used the wrong word," Jana said, pointing to where you had been writing about Piaget.

"It's kind of embarrassing that you're correcting me on my own native language," You said to her even as you corrected yourself.

"Learn Spanish," Bruna said," She makes a lot of mistakes in that."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"You so do," Ona said," And y/n, you've got your tenses wrong."

You hadn't even noticed that the match had ended and that Ona was studying your essay until she spoke. Esmee looked over it as well, pointing at another grammar mistake.

You slapped their hands away and pointed to each of you. "Stop it! It'll get spellchecked at the end! You're ruining my creative process!"

"What creative process?" Jana laughed," You're writing an essay!"

"I hate you!" You declared with a laugh," Each and every one of you!" You pointed at them each in turn.

"Don't lie!" Bruna said," You love us."

You bat your eyelashes at her. "Write my essay and you'll have my undying love!"

"No chance!"

You finished your essay soon after without any of their help (although you would be the first to admit that your conclusion wasn't exactly the best) and hurried to cross it off the list, snatching it off the fridge. You sought out Keira in a group of the older girls. You showed her the list.

"I'm done!"

She took it from you, looking it over sceptically.

"And your psychology essay?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Keira, promise!"

"She promises, Keira!" Patri mocked your tone with a smile as Claudia and Gemma laughed.

You were one second away from stamping your foot but you refrained because you would never live down the 'little kid' allegations from your teammates if you did so.

"Look at this face!" Gemma said, cupping your cheeks," How could you be mean to this one?"

Keira had a contemplative look on her face.

"Come on, Keira," Claudia said," It's the weekend. We have a match in two days. She's been doing her work since we arrived. Let her have this."

"She could have had it finished before you all arrived if she hadn't taken a nap after practice."

"She's a growing girl!" Patri declared," She needs her nap so she can be big and strong like me when she grows up!"

An arm was thrown over your shoulder and you bit back your retort that the world couldn't handle two versions of Patri.

"Oh...fine, then. y/n go let Narla out of your room and then you're free for the rest of the day."

"Yes!" You pumped your fist into the air and hurried off.

Narla had been shut into your room the moment you came home after Keira watched you play with the little dog instead of doing your homework so she seemed very happy to be free, leaping into your arms like a little princess and making you walk her into the living room.

Salma and Cata intercepted you on the way, cooing over Narla like they had never met her before even though they had.

"It's strange to see you without your laptop," Cata said to you as she tickled under Narla's chin," I thought that it was surgically attached to you or something."

You would have shoved her if you had access to your hands but you didn't so settled for an unimpressed eyeroll. "Ha, ha, very funny. Make fun of my massive workload. I don't see you studying while playing football!"

"You know," Salma said and you already knew she was going to say something to tease you," When I was your age, I didn't have to worry about deadlines because I just did my work the day it got set."

You scoffed. "You're only three years older than me!" You stuck your tongue out at her. "If you want to write my essays for me, Salma, you should have just asked."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "That sounds like hell on earth."

You laughed all the way back to the living room, placing Narla on the floor and grabbing some snacks from the table when nobody was looking. You ended up on the floor for the most part, sat by Lucy's chair as the older woman sat above you, occasionally reaching down to feed you chocolate when she was sure Keira wasn't looking. But as it got later in the evening, you ended up migrating onto the sofa with Alexia.

"I heard you finished all your schoolwork for the week," She said as you lazed against her side, watching whatever Spanish soap opera Patri had forced onto the tv.

"Uh-huh." You were only half listening as you dozed off. Her nails scratched lightly at your scalp and the blanket that had been thrown over the pair of you made you feel all cosy and warm.

"Well done, y/n. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," You slurred slightly, head dropping to her shoulder as your vision got blurrier and blurrier.

"Are you tired, bebita?"

"No..."

Her chuckle jolted her body slightly but it was a little like the vibrations from being in a car so your eyes just drooped lower. "I think you are."

"Not...Not tired."

"You are. I think all that studying took it out of you."

"No..." You whined slightly and Alexia pulled you in a bit tighter. She manipulated your body in some way you didn't realise because you blinked and suddenly you were lying stretched out with your head in her lap. "I'm...I'm not tired."

You had already missed out on team bonding because of your studying. You didn't want to miss out on any more.

"You are very tired." Alexia's tone was firm but still somehow soothing and her nails drew patterns on your arm comfortingly. "You just need a little nap."

You tried to protest but Alexia's voice just got a bit firmer and a bit more like her captain voice so you knew that you couldn't argue back.

"Come on, bebita. It's nap time for good students like you. I'll wake you up when the food gets here."

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

As if I wasn't already exhausted enough this morning...

It's been brought to my attention that people are taking my fanfics, editing them, and sharing them around. I don't have the words to describe how not okay this is. If you don't like something about my fanfic, then I'm sorry to hear that, but there are a lot of other fics out there you can read instead.

I put time and effort and care into my writing, as does every writer. To take my work without permission and change it feels like someone just punched me in the gut. Frankly it makes me not want to share my work at all and to take down all the writing I do have up, because why should I share anything with people if all they're going to do is decide it's not good enough and they're going to do what they want with it and make it "better"?

And before anyone comes at me, this is not what a transformative work does. This is not the same as fanfiction. I'm fucking exhausted from working two eleven hour shifts over the weekend so my brain is not working so someone smarter and more articulate than I am can explain why. I'm tired.

This genuinely makes me want to take down all my works and not share anything new. It's very simple, kiddos: Don't like it? Don't read it. You will miss out on some fanfics that way, just like you'll miss out on some films, or books, or TV shows. I've missed out on really good fic, novels, films, etc, for the same reason. We all do. It's a part of life. Stuff will sometimes have things in it that you don't like. Skim those parts, fast-forward those scenes, grin and bear it, or just go and read/watch something else.

Normally I would make this post unrebloggable but I worry other writers in this fandom might experience the same thing and not realize it. So people are welcome to reblog this. Anyone who's an ass on it will be blocked, no second chances.

Just. Don't do this guys. Holy shit don't do this. What the actual fuck.

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

You spread the baby fever when I read the Simon asking how many kids you want blurb.....

Could you write one where reader tells Simon she's pregnant and Simon is super excited to get baby items and set up the nursery.... Just Simon being excited fluff

I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR THIS AGH

Omg Simon Riley x Pregnant!Reader <3

AN: FIRST ASK OMFG!! THANK YOU ANON <3

You didn't know exactly how to tell him, because you knew Simon had had a rough childhood, his father wasn't.. a great dad.

So when you handed him the positive pregnancy test, dropping it in his lap, his eyes shot open and he stares up at you with that "don't be kidding" look.

Immediately you're in a tight hug on his lap, he's rocking you both back and forth as he tells you how good you'll both be at being parents, and how loved this kid will be, and how he's wanted your babies since he laid eyes on you.

The next day you wake up to breakfast in bed with the happiest Simon you'll ever see, you might be beaming because of hormones but his smile is even brighter.

He takes you in your second trimestre (3-6 months pregnant) and that's when you start to buy baby items. By then you have the sex of the baby and he's ALL for painting the nursery (that he gave up his personal gym for) walls blue/pink or whatever colours you want.

Johnny and Kyle and John? All uncles, John especially is a grandfather to the kiddo, and frequently Simon will lay beside your stomach and coo to it about how they'll love Johnny and Kyle and John, and how Laswell can be annoying, and how he's so excited for this kid to come out.

He practically does everything he can for you while you're at home. You want chicken? Done, what kind did you want again? You have a craving? He's already putting his shoes on to go to the store. You want a bath? He'll run it and if you let him he'll wash you like you're the most careful thing ever.

He builds the crib you got with his reading glasses on, looking at it with the most confused expression, relying SOLELY on the pictures to build it. You're beside him the entire time, nursing a four month baby bump on the rocking chair he put together in the week prior, wearing a pretty dress he likes in your favourite colour and holding the little pieces.

He calls you "mum" and "momma" in private, and your contact in his phone is "the missus 💕" whether you're his wife or not.

He sobs when he sees the ultrasound. He comes in with you and the doctor points it out and there's tears in his eyes. "'Ts nothin', dovie. Jus' didn' think I'd ever get a baby."

This man would've quit his job if you had asked he is THAT dedicated, and when the baby comes around he's making sure to take on as much responsibility as humanly possible, he took off as much time as he could at work, or he decides to not deploy for as long as possible JUST so he can see all the big firsts.

And don't get me started on pregnancy sex...

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being an Avenger with a low social battery

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Can I have the avengers with a reader who has a really bad social battery. Like they can be out in public and then they just disappear and are like “nah I’m done with these mofo’s””

the avengers are quite the rowdy bunch

but you always as excitable as them

these guys were often in the public eye, always being asked all sorts of questions

but you just couldnt handle it a lot of the time

"y/n, can i get a picture with you? you're my hero!" -fan

"uh...yeah, sure. big smile!" -you, completely exhausted

you tried to be nice and not obvious that you were drained but boy was it hard

especially when tony threw his parties

you'd typically sit in the corner with a drink and try to make it through the night

but there were always some guests who were just dying to come talk to you

"hey! why are you hiding over here, there's a party going on! come, have some fun!" -clueless party guest

"oh, i'm okay over here, thank you" -you

"i'll keep you some company, then. why don't you tell me a story of one of your avenger missions"

some people just could not take the hint

but the avengers usually knew when you'd had enough

"wanna get out of here?" -nat

"please." -you

you'd recharge alone whenever you escaped the madness

dont even get me started on the news

they would do anything to get an interview with you

"y/n! could you comment on the recent events in [country] that you accompanied the avengers in?" -reporter

"we were there, we saved the day" -you, obviously exhausted

"is that all you have to say?" -reporter

"hey! don't you want to hear what i have to say? huh?" -tony

"thanks, tony" -you

"no problem, kiddo" -tony

wanda got it

you liked spending time with her because she liked to be calm and alone sometimes too

you'd read or watch tv or listen to music together in silence for hours

it was nice

it was funny because sometimes the team would all be socializing and then bam

"hey, where's y/n?" -steve

"i think they tapped out" -clint

"oh. i'll go check on them" -steve

"no, just leave them alone, they'll be back" -tony

after a lot of missions you'd just wait for the avengers on the quinjet while they spoke to authorities or SHIELD or whoever

"just forward me the mission report, i'll fill it out" -you

everyone just kinda let you do your thing

which worked out just fine for you

it drove fury crazy back in the day

"just why are we giving y/n special treatment? what? they're tired?" -fury

"i didn't say that, i said they were over your shit" -tony

"you better not have said that, i'll give you one last chance" -fury

and that is just another reason you were depleted

some days were better than others, and sometimes you could keep up! but once your battery died, that was it

"'social battery,' you say? any way i could be of assistance? maybe a small jolt from mjolnir to charge it back up?" -thor

"oh, no, just a figure of speech, no need for...that" -you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[elliesspacewalker]

omg hiii im obsessed with ur recent transgender!ellie post,can u please make pt 2 of that?? 💋💋 also i would like to request ab reader (still clothed) dry humping ellie's clothed cock until Ellie's cock would erect. I LOVE UR WRITING SM 💋💋

Yesss, absolutely- I'll go force wifey to make a part 2 of her recent work-

Warnings: smut 18+, weed, swearing, Transgender Ellie, dry humping, cum (Ellie being pathetic🤭🤭)

--

You and Ellie had been friends for years, and you went over to hers for a sleepover- nothing out of the ordinary, smoking some weed and playing video games.

The weed in your system made your pussy ache, you couldn't ignore it.

"yo" Ellie says as she hears a knock at the door, headphones still on as she plays call of duty, the door opens and Joel smiles at you, you smile back.

"hey kiddo's, do you guys want some snacks?" Joel says in a soft tone, you politely say yes and he brings the snacks up.

"thanks Joel" you say, Ellie is too busy with her game to notice— you roll your eyes and giggle, grabbing another joint and igniting it and blowing out the smoke.

Putting the joint between your two fingers, you go behind Ellie and put it to her lips and she mumbles a 'thanks' as she turns off her PS5, she looks outside.

"shit, what fucking time is it?" She giggles "9pm" you say, "shit I was playing for hours... Hope you didn't get too bored watching me play"

"it's okay Els, it's cute"

She swiftly goes underneath the sheets to lay on her back, and you follow, laying on your side and looking at her.

Her fucking trackpants, those fucking gray trackpants she always fucking wears... You could see the outline of her flaccid dick and bit your lip hard.

"what?" She says, looking up at you. "Nothing.. just so pretty" you say, putting a strain of hair behind her ear and she smiles.

You and Ellie had never been sexual, I mean. You've told her about your experiences but never were you two sexual, but you accepted over summer you had the fattest fucking crush on Ellie fucking Williams, you never wanted to tell her in case it ruined years of friendship.

Ellie looks at your lips then your eyes, she licks her lips and you pull yourself closer and kiss her- Ellie's lips are as soft as they look, her tongue pushing into your mouth softly and you moan into her mouth.

She takes this as a sign and pulls you on top of her, hands gripping your ass, she groans into your mouth as you start to grind on her cock.

"fuck" she mumbles against your lips, pulling your hair away from your neck and leaning up to kiss your neck that is rewarded with a loud moan from your lips.

You roll your hips slowly as you feel her cock getting harder and harder... Her dick rubbing against your clit making you moan and collapse onto her, she bucks her hips up into your aching pussy.

By this point you both are a fucking mess, you're taking off your t-shirt to reveal your tits and her hands are on your ass as you drag yourself along her length, you take off your pants so you can grind on her cock in just your panties- Ellie takes off her pants quickly and you roll your hips again as you make your way on top of her, her cock pulsating and sensitivity has gone up with just boxers on.

Ellie's mouth finds her way to your nipple and sucking on it, her tongue swirling around as you moan . You rut your hips harder into her cock as she groans louder, these groans turn to pathetic moans after a minute or two, you bring your face to her neck and suck on her neck— she's definitely going to wear those proud to school tomorrow.

"i-im so fucking close, fuck" she whimpers and you giggle "yeah?" You tease, "hmm" she moans.

"don't fucking stop please fuck" you nod and speed up, feeling her cock that's so hard you're sure she'll explode at any given second. "Please, fuck baby please"

You feel her cock pulsate against your clothed cunt, you feel yourself getting closer.

"Els. I'm-"

"I know fuck, fuck, fuck" she says, her breathing gets heavier, opening her mouth so she can get more air into her lungs- you're both moaning and whining.

"you wanna cum baby?" You tease her, "yes fuck please .. fuck please" she begs

she bucks her hips one more time before her stomach starts contracting, and she cums all over your panties and through her boxers.

You look down and see her Calvin Klein boxers are soaked- you're just so fucking close, you keep rolling your hips on her cock as it hits your clit making you moan loudly.

"'m so sensitive, fuck!" Her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head. "I'm so fucking close Els please, hold on for me"

You're literally milking her dry, one last grind and you're cumming, pussy contracting and clit throbbing as you come down from your high- still on top of her you look down at your thin cotton panties that are now covered in both of your cum, you're breathing hard and so is Ellie.

"fuck-" she moans, hitting the pillow as she puts her hands on your hips.

You get off of her and look at your soaking panties and back at her, you giggle.

"shit... Im sorry" she looks at you worried. "No Ellie, it's no biggie dw"

She stands up, holding her crotch as cum gets all on her fingers. "Shit" she mumbles, you laugh and she laughs with you, handing you a pair of her boxers, you mumble "thanks" changing out of your soaking panties and into these boxers, getting back into bed as Ellie gets you water.

"are you not gonna change your boxers?"

"shut up, I will get when I get back into bed"

You laugh, she grabs you water and changes her boxers getting back into bed with you, she cuddles you in close and kisses your lips softly.