#there's redbull in this mug

[anniteslifine]

trinket jar doodles (again) with a brush i don’t use!! cause brush experimentation usually helps with my art block and they’re easy to doodle

first humans i think i’ve posted on tumblr, i don’t draw them often lol

[beeprich]

when IT gets me from Coachella

[chimemori]

OMG CHIMERA HEY ❤️❤️❤️

OHHH HELLO MAYHEM!! GLAD TO SEE U HERE :DD💖💖 HERES A MUG FOR U

[milotonin]

imagine if they had redbull

[percervall]

it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 2

Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: discussions around consent Word count: 827

Part 2 of the Fuck It series

Pushing the plate away from you, you lean back in the chair as you rest the coffee mug on the knee that’s pulled up to your chest. You’re lucky that Fernando is also more of a coffee person and quickly learnt just how you like yours once you moved in. Sometimes you still wonder how on God’s green earth you ended up being roommates with some of motorsports finest. 

Looking around the table, you can’t help but smile as they tease each other about something that happened during the last race. Jenson laughs at Fernando’s misfortune although he is quick to sympathise seeing as they’re in the same boat with regards to their cars being nowhere near Mercedes or even Sebastian’s Ferrari. For as long as you’ve known him, Jenson has always been easy going. His teasing and generally positive attitude is what led to the two of you becoming friends in the first place. And because of that friendship, you became a lot closer to Fernando as well when he rejoined McLaren. The two of them had an easy partnership, both on and off the track, and whenever you joined a race, Jenson made sure to include you in their conversations. Somehow being friends with both of them also meant you got to know Mark a lot better, and in turn Sebastian as well. The Aussie had retired from the sport well before you met Jenson, but he remained a constant in the paddock with his punditry job for Channel4. And from what you were told, the German driver had mellowed out since his RedBull days. The four of them seem to have such a deep understanding of each other, they work together seamlessly. Apparently even more so than you had expected.

And therein also lies the problem. Because while sharing seems to be somewhat normal for them, it makes you wonder where that leaves you in this arrangement. Would it always be like this morning, where they’re all involved in one way or another? How can you make sure it’s equal? Would they take turns? The thought alone has you swallowing thickly as your mind whirls with fantasies. 

“Are you okay, doll?” Jenson’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. Just-.. Just thinking,” you reply, taking another sip from your now luke-warm coffee. The men share a look that you decide to ignore as you down what’s left of your coffee.

“I don’t regret this morning,” you say, worried they will misinterpret your hesitancy.

“But?” Sebastian fills in for you.

“But it leaves me with. Questions,” you add, not making eye contact. 

“You can ask us anything, sweetheart,” Mark says gently and Jenson gives your knee a squeeze. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts you look out of the window.

“I guess the biggest question I have is how will this work? If we’re really gonna do this, if I’m gonna-.. Will it always be one on one or-.. Or will everyone be involved?” Something like desire swoops low in your stomach as you voice the latter part of the question and you can feel your cheeks heat up. 

“That is very much up to you, sweetheart,” Mark says, as the other three nod in agreement.

“We should have some sort of system, like to check if you’re okay with whatever will happen,” Sebastian offers, “do you have a safe word already?”

“A safe word? I-.. No, my ex wasn’t one for anything other than missionary and the occasional oral,” you confess, stomach in knots at the implications of maybe having to use a safe word. 

“I use traffic light system, very easy to follow and understand,” Fernando comments. Your imagination runs wild with all the possible scenarios in which Fernando would use this system.

“Hey, it’s just a way to make sure it’s fun and pleasurable for everyone,” Jenson says quietly, picking up on the way your head is going about a mile a minute. You nod, taking a deep breath. The longer you think about it, the more sense it makes. Having this in place will make sure, like Jenson said, that everyone is having a good time. You had just never considered that you are allowed to check in and see whether you’re okay with what’s about to happen. While it never felt like you didn’t have a choice in your previous relationship, consent was not something that was actively discussed; It was just always assumed. And in hindsight you maybe let him get away with blurring more boundaries than you had realised. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense,” you say, relaxing back into the chair. 

“Like Mark said, whatever we do, it’s up to you,” Sebastian reiterates. You nod in understanding once more, the knot in your stomach untangling slowly. You had trusted them enough to be roommates for the last year and a half without them overstepping a boundary or taking advantage of you. They care, you think, they’re not him. Fernando presses a kiss to your temple as he pours you another cup.

“It’ll be fun, nena,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes, and the implications have you clenching your thighs together. Something tells you Fernando could very well be right. 

A smaller part to establish the relationship between the five of them a little bit more and to set things up for what's to come 👀

Feel free to let me know what you think (or any ideas you have for this series), your comments, tags, and likes means the world to me 💜

taglist: @2pagenumb @alishamai @anotherblackreader @Barbare2 @blackcat-mors13 @cassielikesreading @champomiel  @dannyramirezwife @darkwaterrose @brklynlewis @the-depressed-fellow @emlynblack @forza55 @heyheyheyggg @hiireadstuff @honkyscats @hrts4scarr @jeffs77 @jaimeleannavanlloman @Leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @lightdragonrayne  @mehrmonga @prttypqrtts @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ruledbyproblematique @scarlett11xo @skatingiswalkingincursive @tallrock35 @thatsadsmallchild @szobosz @vinvantae @whoreforeveryon @woozarts @zagreus

[transmascsteveharrington]

Eddie takes the same train every day. It's in the far too early hours of the morning, dawn barely painting the city in a glowing coat of rust. The people on the platform next to him cling to the coffee in their travel mugs the same way sleep still clings to their lashes. They're tired, but not the bone-shattering tired I just finished a 10-hour bar shift that pushes down on Eddie's aching shoulder blades. The people on the platform are going to work, Eddie is going home.

His feet hurt, his hands reek of vodka and redbull, his ears ring from the loud music that played all night long and his voice is hoarse from shouting over it to be heard. But he doesn't care as he gets onto the train and sinks into a semi-comfy seat. Because while his job is alright bordering on fun most nights, it's the best job in the world when Thursday slowly trickles into Friday. Because on Thursday nights in the Hideout Eddie does not just serve drinks and flirts until the tip jar is bursting, no on Thursdays he gets to perform up on stage. It's an agreement with the owner, who has a soft spot for Eddie and his band and they have recently started to draw a crowd which helps too. So today Eddie doesn't mind the sleepless night.

He suppresses a yawn and rubs his eyes, smudging the traces of eyeliner left on his face even worse. It's when he lowers his hands, stars dancing in the corner of his eyes from the pressure, and leans his head against the cool window of the train that Eddie sees him. The prettiest man he's ever laid eyes on. Seriously how can someone be this attractive? Light brown hair that manages to be untamed and yet perfectly styled, tanned skin covered in so many freckles Eddie can feel himself salivate. And then there are his eyes. Liquid gold, glowing amber, honey in the sun and whiskey by candlelight.

It's not the first time Eddie has fallen deeply in love with a stranger on the subway and he doubts it's going to be the last time. But it's the most he has ever been enraptured. The outfit the guy wears is nothing exciting to write home about. Grey coat covering a blue suit typical corporate style. Nothing exciting, not even a fun tie. Eddie couldn't care less about the clothes though (unless they were on his bedroom floor).

He just watches the guys magnetizing eyes go back and forth over the page of the book he is reading. It's like watching a pendulum and Eddie finds himself hypnotized, enraptured, gone without any chance of return. Curious as he is though he forces himself to look away from the beautiful hazel eyes and tries instead to make out what the guy is reading.

He has to slap a hand on his mouth to keep himself from making a noise when he sees that the guy is reading A Court of Thornes and Roses. Now that is unexpected. Eddie never read it himself but he didn't think Mr. probably works for a big boy loads of money epicenter of capitalism company would read romance books let alone fairy porn romance books on the train to work. It's unexpected and Eddie instantly falls a little deeper. But unfortunately, as with all subway romances, it reaches its end as the train reaches the next station. Pretty boy sighs, dog ears his page (naughty) and gets up.

In the twenty seconds it takes for the train doors to open and the guy to step out Eddie fast forwards through the life they could have led. Imagines all the shared giggles and kisses and moments in time, sees all the stupid arguments they are going to have and the make up sex they'll have afterwards. Their first date will be in a little cafe just down the road from the Hideout, their wedding anniversary at a family-owned Italian place that reminds pretty boy of his grandma's cooking. The train door closes and Eddie's indulgent little fantasy ends. No point in thinking about all the what ifs, he's never going to see the guy again.

Except that he does. Next day, same time, same train, same exhaustion humming in Eddie's bones, same guy, different suit same book. Eddie stares. Can't help himself and maybe this is the universe giving him a second chance, telling him to make a move. But the only thing that moves is the guy when he reaches his stop, dog ears his book again, gets up and leaves. And well fall in love on the subway once, fall in love on the subway twice, Eddie thinks that this must be it.

But apparently, the universe is having a laugh because the impossible keeps happening, book guy keeps being on Eddie's train, and keeps on sitting right across from Eddie. The day he finishes acotar is the day they make eye contact for the first time. With a sigh he closes the book, looks up and catches Eddie staring. Eddie knows he should look away but he just can't, pinned under the guy's gaze he just keeps staring. And the guy stares right back, looks Eddie up and down and gives him a flirty little smirk and heart palpitations before he gets up.

The next day his hazel eyes widen in surprise when he sees Eddie sitting down across from him again like he too can't believe seeing the same guy on the subway twice. Eddie gives him an awkward smile, which gets returned just as awkwardly before the guy averts his gaze and continues to read Twilight. Okay, so pretty boy likes cheesy monster romance books. At least it's not 50 shades, Eddie thinks. Because he knows he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from saying something and coming off like a total creep, telling a stranger on the subway that the portrayal of bdsm in that book is unrealistic and harmful and should never be acted out like that. Instead, Eddie just blissfully gets to wonder whether the guy is team Edward or team Jacob.

After that pretty boy keeps noticing Eddie. They exchange little smiles that become nods that become whispered hi-s and see you-s. Summer comes by the time pretty boy finishes twilight and his coat and suit turn into polos and khakis and it makes Eddie want to bang his head against the train's window because no one should be able to look that good in such stuffy clothes. After vampires, it's time for some Regency romance and several weeks for frowning eyes as pretty boy tries to make it through pride and prejudice. On one particularly hot summer morning he just slams the book shut with a groan of frustration.

"Not good?" Eddie can't help but ask. Pretty boy looks at him and the annoyance in his face softens. It's probably the hot weather that drives a blush into his cheeks.

"Kinda?" he shrugs. "I loved the movie like that almost kiss in the rain? The hand stretch? I loved it."

It's endearing how passionately pretty boy talks about the movie. And god his voice is perfect too. If Eddie had not already been lured by his pretty eyes it would have been the siren call of his voice.

"But the book? It's like super complicated man. Who are half these people? Why do they talk like that. And I know it's like high-class literature or something, but it just makes me feel l...I don't know stupid."

"It's not stupid, Austen isn't for everyone," Eddie reassures him and that gets a little smile out of the guy.

"Thanks," he says, suddenly shy.

Eddie wants to bite him. Wants to take him out, wants to know what his kisses taste like and what the first song that made him cry was. Wants to learn his favorite kind of soup and if blue is his favorite color. It's silly, it's just a stranger on the subway he keeps meeting.

"I'm Steve by the way," pretty guy says and just like that mysterious, sexy stranger becomes Steve. It only makes Eddie want Steve more.

"Eddie," he says just as the train pulls into Steve's station. With an apologetic smile, Steve gets up.

"See you tomorrow, Eddie?" he asks, hopeful and all Eddie can do is nod, mouth gone dry.

"See you tomorrow," he promises.

Instead of going straight to sleep like usual when he gets home, Eddie takes out his songwriting book, sharpens a pencil and then writes like a possessed man. It's just a silly song, something whipped up and recorded within half an hour. Just a little love song starting with "he took the morning train going somewhere." It's not something he would play with the band, nothing he would put on an album. He puts it on tiktok instead before he finally falls asleep.

By the time he wakes up his phone is running hot with notification. Confused and bleary-eyed Eddie opens the tiktok app and promptly almost drops his phone. During the few hours he's slept his silly little joke song has gone absolutely viral.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the songs that could have gone viral it of course just had to be song he recorded as a joke about falling in love with a corporate guy reading fair porn on the subway. Fuck, Steve. It's so so so obvious that the song is about him. Eddie has no idea how he is meant to take the train tomorrow and look Steve into his gorgeous eyes. He dreads all night. When he gets to the Hideout the guys from the band tease him about the song, but insist they have to put it on the demo. It's not their usual vibe but according to Gareth it slaps and Jeff calls it a bop. Eddie just feels sick. Steve is going to hate him.

Only that when Eddie gets onto the train with shaky knees, Steve smiles at him like any other day. Pride and Prejudice has been replaced with a copy of One Last Stop which definitely seems more like Steve's kind of book. But Eddie is too nervous to really think about it. He expects Steve to lash out at any moment, call him a weirdo, wave a restraining order in his face. But none of that happens. Steve just reads, and when he gets up to leave tells Eddie "see you tomorrow."

Eddie's song becomes more and more viral but the subway rides home stay the same. Steve will say hi, smile at him, read, then get up and say bye. Nothing more nothing less. Maybe he just doesn't have social media Eddie prays. Even though his book choices seem very curated by the clock app. But Eddie is thankful for every day, Steve doesn't bring up the subway boy song. He is almost done with one last stop the day Eddie and the boys get the call from Kings Records about a deal. It's one of Chicago's biggest labels and it would mean the big break for them. Only that they insist on Subway Guy being on the record.

Eddie doesn't like it, doesn't like it one bit. But the guys beg him to reconsider it. The song went viral for a reason and Eddie knows he will never forgive himself he keeps them all from making their dreams come true just because some guy on the subway might think he is a creep. Only that Steve is not just some guy. He is the highlight of Eddie's day, the sugar in his coffee, the reason mornings aren't as awful anymore. He is also noticeably absent on Eddie's ride to the record label.

It's the same train, the same time as always, but the seat across from Eddie is vacant. No corporate hottie with a cheesy romance book to be seen. Maybe the universe is teaching Eddie a lesson, telling him that he really screwed it up this time. Make it big but lose the guy it's karma.

Eddie tries his best to put on a smile and not let his foul mood show when he enters the record label, the guys from the band are already there. He can't blow this for them just because his heart aches a little. Okay, maybe it aches a lot but this is Eddie's dream. It's all their dream. So he keeps on smiling, shakes the big official music producer guy's hand and gets led to studio. They spend the day recording subway guy and while Eddie still feels a tad bad, he can't help but enjoy the process. The song is good, objectively, actually good and it's nice to be told that.

They finish for the day, but before they can leave there are some legal things to sort through, so the producer guy sends them to legal. It's at the top of the building, glass walls, stunning view. A secretary leads them to a conference room with a smile and tells them their laywer Mr. Harrington will be with them shortly to sign contracts, sort through copyright etc. etc.

Eddie is tunes her out, too distracted by the city below him. The train tracks look like thin lines from up here and Eddie can't help but think back to Steve. The excitement of the day turns into guilt, making his stomach ache. Just as Eddie is about to run, to call it all off the door to the conference room opens and Eddie's jaw drops.

"Hi everyone," Steve greets the band. "I'm Steve Harrington, resident lawyer for King Records. Sorry for letting you wait, but I was super curious and wanted to listen to your song first."

Warm hazel eyes find Eddie's wide-blown ones. There is no way this is real, this has to be a prank. But Steve just pulls out a bunch of paperwork and notions for them all to sit down. Eddie barely listens when Steve goes over the legal aspects, Nancy is going to read over the contract when Eddie gets home anyways. Eddie is too busy staring at Steve.

"Wonderful, this is all," Steve says once they have gone through all the paperwork. "King Records is looking forward to working with you."

Steve smiles as he leads them back to the elevators.

"Gotta say, while it's not my usual sound, I really enjoyed your song. I relate maybe a little bit too much to falling in love with a stranger on the subway," he says as they wait for the elevator. "The guy you wrote the song about must be a pretty special guy."

"He is," Eddie finally, finally regains his ability to speak. "I don't just write love songs about any kind of stranger."

The elevator dings open but Eddie doesn't want to move. He wants to stay, a million questions on his mind, starting with you're really not mad and ending with so I was thinking spring wedding, maybe May. Thoughts? But corroded coffin drag him into the elevator say their thanks and then before he can do anything yet another door slides shut between him and Steve. The guys don't notice that something is off, too euphoric about their first record deal. But it's fine, their joy is infectious and Eddie doesn't pout about being dragged away from Steve. Eddie knows he is going to see Steve again.

It's too early in the morning when Eddie steps onto the train home from his last shift at work. There is a beautiful guy on the train, dressed in a pristine suit, romance novel in his hands. He doesn't wait for Eddie to pass by, just grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him down into the seat right next to him.

"Hi," Steve grins, far too awake this early.

"Hi," Eddie whispers back, giddy despite all his exhaustion. They are both quiet for a moment before Eddie blurts, nervous, "Read anything good lately?"

It startles a laugh from Steve and it's such a nice sound Eddie instantly wants to make Steve laugh again.

"I have actually," Steve smiles. "I would tell you all about it, but I'm afraid my stop is next."

He takes what looks like a bookmark out from between the pages of his current book. Which is weird because Steve never uses bookmarks. It becomes less weird when he hands the bookmark to Eddie, a phone number written in dark ink on it.

"How about you give me a call and I can tell you all about it over a coffee," Steve suggests and get up. "And you can tell me all about that song of yours."

Eddie blinks surprised once, twice, as Steve leaves the train. Then Eddie instantly digs out his phone. He should go home, sleep. But screw sleep, who needs to rest when you have a coffee date with a hot stranger you fell in love on the subway with to arrange.

[vivwritesfics]

Hello!!! I love your work!! can you please make a lestappen x famous singer reader. fluff with humor ?

I did hc's bc... my head hurts that my excuse lmao

they didn't know each other after the fame

so after they started racing

and after she had sold out world tours

monaco grand prix i think

these two are pathetic

lmao falling over each other when they meet her

only to end up laughing about it later

but somehow this act of being silly little guys works

bc she asks them out

and charles tries to brag to max that he got asked out over him

not realising that she asked the both of them out

again

the most pathetic man

bc not only are they flirting with her

but with each other

Welp, they were gonna all end up in the same bed somehow

They went to her concert before she went to a Grand Prix with them

The fans that knew both F1 and her music were going crazy at Max and Charles being on the front row

Speaking of

Biggest fan boys

Belting out every lyric

Jumping around with the other fans

These people were there for her, so they just got to be fans with her fans

(They made friends with some of the girls going crazy with them, discussing favourite songs and such)

And then she went to her first race

Max won

Charles second

Charles got kissed first to make up for it

But Max didn't mind

Bc he loved watching them together

Omg the two of them belting out her song in the cool down room

When they go public, she ends up singing super max at a concert

Which max isn't impressed by

But Charles can't stop laughing

She writes a song about them

Redbull uses it on tiktok ofc

So does the official f1 account on tiktok

The boys aren't in the music video, but she incorporates references to the two of them

Like drinking from a mug that says 'just an inchident' at the start of the video

Neither of them post very often

They're very private with their relationship

Like kisses are hidden in hotel rooms

Aside from when they're on the podium

When the boys are there together skyf1 likes to zoom in on her

Shows her beaming smile

[vinvantae]

How the current f1 grid would react coming home from a race to find you’d fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for them to come home.

So this is me trying to get back into the groove, hope you like it! All just a bit of fun 🥰

There’s now a part 2!

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Below the cut because I don’t want to flood your dash 💙💙

#1 Max Verstappen

Max’s reaction would be entirely dependent on when his last Redbull was. If he was feeling just as sleep deprived as you, he’d squeeze onto the sofa with you and snuggle up beside you - smiling to himself as you grumbled into his chest about how much you’d missed him before the two of you dozed off, both eventually waking up with sore backs. But if he’d thrown back his millionth Redbull on the plane, just to ensure he was awake enough to see you - he would for sure prod his fingers into your sides, tickling you until you were squealing for him to stop, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Max Emillian! Get those hands off of me! Before he’d kiss you deeply, showing you just how much he’d missed you.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#2. Logan Sargeant

After draping a blanket over you, he’d cosy himself up in the adjacent armchair and distract himself with the TV on quietly or something on his phone until you woke up. And as you groggily moved from the sofa to the armchair, curling yourself up in his lap - complaining that he should’ve woken you up, it’s been too long without you, he’d simply smile and kiss your forehead. He’d then listen to you yap away about what he’d missed while he was gone, but truthfully, even when you were asleep your company was enough, because even if he felt lonely on the grid sometimes - he never felt like that with you.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#3. Daniel Ricciardo

Daniel would stand over your sleeping body for a few moments - torn between waking you up because he misses you or just letting you sleep a while. But feeling particularly selfish after not the best race, he’d crouch next to your face and gently stroke his thumb over your cheek whilst calling your pet name to get your attention. And seeing your eyes light up at the sigh of him, launching yourself from your comfy spot on the sofa into his arms would make him forget all his worries - even for just a minute. You’d kiss all over his face, making him laugh. G’day to you too, Sheila, miss me that much?

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#4. Lando Norris

He wouldn’t even get the chance to notice you sleeping, hollering out your name as he came through the front door - kicking off his shoes and dumping his suitcase too was more than plenty to wake you up. As he comes into the living room to see you sitting up and rubbing your eyes - he’d wince and apologise for waking you, I am sooooo sorry, babe. Am I forgiven?, before coming over to give you a kiss. But you’d smile, rolling your eyes playfully and say you wouldn’t have him any other way before hauling him down onto the couch to join you.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#10. Pierre Gasly

Pierre is a needy boyfriend - of course he’d never admit it but you and anyone with a pair of eyes could see it. He craved your attention so waking you up was something he would do without even thinking - just to get a kiss. So when you feel the sofa dip and a warm hand come up to rest on your shoulder, you let your eyes flutter open to see him smiling down at you. Bonjour, mon amour, I’ve missed you. And as he leans down to kiss you, you can’t help but playfully rib him for waking you up just for an ounce of attention.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#14. Fernando Alonso

You wouldn’t even realise he was home until he’d placed a mug of your favourite hot drink on the coffee table. He was so quiet on his feet that he had a habit of making you jump so when you heard the soft Mi Amor of your lover, you jolted awake. Nando, you’re home - why didn’t you wake me sooner? He’d simply smile and hand you your drink, saying he didn’t want to disturb you and that it gave him time to unpack. As you sit up to drink, he’d nestle himself beside you and drape an arm across your shoulders, before the two of you would fall into a conversation about his weekend.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#16. Charles Leclerc

Charles endeared you like no one else - every time he came home late from a race weekend, determined not to wake you, he always found himself dropping something or accidentally closing a door too loud. He wanted to let you sleep but this time it was the jar of coffee and the tiled floor that were his biggest enemy. Most people would freak at the sound of breaking glass while they slept, but to you it was the sign your clumsy boyfriend was home. He’d apologise profusely as you stepped into the kitchen with a tired smile on your face but you’d simply step around the glass to take his face in your hands and kiss him, getting rid of any worry.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#18. Lance Stroll

With a gentle touch to your knee and a soft whisper of your name, Lance would smile to himself as you stretched out and yawned - matching his smile as you sat up to hug him. Before he’d reach into his bag and pull out something he’d seen he knew you’d love. You’d always scold him for buying you things but there was nothing Lance loved more than picking you out something from each country he visited. And you could never stay mad when you opened it, your boyfriend was the most thoughtful gift giver and never had he put something tasteless in your lap. And boy, did he love reaping the reward.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#20. Kevin Magnussen

Coming home to a quiet house was rare for Kevin, so when he did - the driver did everything in his power to keep it that way. Knowing you’d somehow got the kids to sleep despite his pending return home, it was not something worth risking. So when he found you asleep on the sofa, clearly in an attempt to wait up for him as evidenced by the half drunk cup of coffee and the book splayed across your chest, he’d slide his arms underneath you and take the two of you to bed. Your body so tired that you barely registered the movement, only curling up into his chest once his strong arms wrapped around you.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#22. Yuki Tsunoda

It was usually the smell of something cooking that woke you, no matter the hour - Yuki could never resist whipping both of you up something delicious because the plane home always made him hungry. So as you padded to the kitchen to peer over his shoulder, what’s cooking good lookin’? He’d apologise for waking you but would offer you a taste of whatever delicious food he’d decided to make and that was more than enough of an apology. And once you were up, you could sit contently on the counter as he rambled away about his weekend.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#23. Alex Albon

After taking various photos of you snoozing, including an awful 0.5x close up that you’d have to wrestle his phone out of his hand to stop him posting to instagram once you discovered it, he’d wedge himself in behind you and wrap his arms around you - pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. Missed you he’d whisper gonna put you in my pocket next time, bring you with me. His long fingers tracing up and down your spine as you pressed your cheek against his chest, just enjoying the feelings of his arms around you once again. Not quite ready to wake up but determined to make the most of your time with him.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#24. Zhou Guanyu

Thankfully, Guanyu was always quiet on his feet - moving around your shared space like he was floating on air, laying your favourite fluffy blanket over your body before checking the house for any remaining chores. But of course you’d done them all, and well he had missed you, so disturbing you just enough to move your head onto his lap so he could stroke his fingers through your hair was his next move. Watching the way you almost purred and pushed into his touch. How long have you been back? He’d simply brush his finger down the slope of your nose. Not long, want to head up to bed? Be comfier there.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#31. Esteban Ocon

Mon lapin? Where are you? Esteban cursed under his breath when he realised he’d woken you up by calling out - but the guilt faded when you smiled giddily at him. Estie, mon amour, come here. Your arms outstretched for the Frenchman, giggling with glee when he practically launched himself into your arms - showering your face with kisses. He always missed you endlessly when you couldn’t join him on a race weekend, FaceTime couldn’t compare to the feeling of having you wrapped up with him.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#44. Lewis Hamilton

Lewis was almost shocked when you and Roscoe didn’t greet him at the door, you loved making sure the old pup was there to greet his Dad. But after gently pushing off his shoes, leaving his luggage to deal with later, he moved into the lounge to find you and the bulldog curled up together on the sofa - Roscoe’s large head on your chest, little tail wagging as soon as he laid eyes on Lewis. Hey buds, looking good! He’d whisper, giving him a scratch. You and Mama having a good nap, huh? He’d smile as you stretched your arms out above your head, his name leaving your lips softly before he lent down to kiss you. Let me make us some tea.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#55. Carlos Sainz

Carlos always craved your touch, but when the two of you had to spend time apart - he felt like his skin was on fire. So as he stepped into your home and found you dozing on the sofa he couldn’t help but feel his shoulders slump for just a moment before kneeling beside you - letting his tanned fingers trace up the exposed skin of your legs. Corazón, I’m home. You blinked hard a few times to wake yourself up but before you could even think, his strong arms scooped you up and off the sofa. Carlos! You’d laugh, as he tossed you on the bed, crawling between your legs, his lips tugged into a smirk. I’ve been without you for too long, Mi Vida. Need you.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#63. George Russell

You hadn’t even realised George was home, but when you woke up - both of you were dozing in bed, the Brit had moved you upstairs, somehow without waking you up. George, love? How come you didn’t wake me? His long arms would wind around you and pull you in close, nuzzling his face into your neck - warm breath fanning across your skin. You just looked so peaceful and I was tired so I thought we may as well just sleep. You hummed, pushing your fingers through his hair with a gentle smile on your face. I’ll let you off this once, missed you loads.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#77. Valtteri Bottas

It was late when Valtteri got in, so he assumed you’d already be tucked up in bed - but when he saw you on the sofa, sleeping features illuminated by the soft glow of the table lamp he couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heartstrings at your effort to wait up for him. Carefully, he pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and laid it over you before putting out the candle you’d accidentally left burning, no wonder it smelt so good in here. But, he didn’t want you to wake up with a bad back in the morning so reluctantly, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Hi, ready to go to bed? You hummed and kissed him softly. Tried to wait up for you. Val smiled and helped you to your feet, before the two of you headed upstairs for a good night's sleep.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#81. Oscar Piastri

You’d been so excited when you got Oscar’s text that his plane had landed that you were determined to wait up for him - but before long you were out cold, a movie playing in the background and your phone discarded on the floor where it had slipped from your fingers. As he came in he could hear the tv so naturally assumed you were awake, so he would move quickly to get to you - only to find you fast asleep. Oscar smiled gently, picking your phone up off the floor and turning off the tv. He wanted to let you sleep but he’d missed you so dearly, and wanting nothing more than to hear your voice he decided to wake you. Oscar! You beamed, jumping into his arms - wrapping yourself around him. You’re here, you’re home! He nestled himself up in your arms, enjoying the warmth of your body against his - feeling the stress melt away. Definitely worth waking you up for.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Hope y’all enjoyed this lil something

Didn’t write for Perez and Hulkenburg because I just don’t feel confident or comfortable doing so!

Thank u to @carsgonyoom @vetteltea and @danielfuckingricciardo for letting me annoy u with it first 💙

[its-avalon-08]

Hiiiii!! Can I request a daniel ricciardo x driver! reader? Like a grumpy! reader x sunshine! danny? with a hint of friends to lovers but the grid doesn’t know?

I was so excited to see someone open their request and can’t wait to read everythinggggg! Super grateful for the opportunity🫶 may you have a great time writing<3

Ps. It’s totally okay if this doesn’t get a response, I still look forward reading your other works ❤️

she's my grump

the monaco grand prix was always a whirlwind. the air crackled with champagne and exhaust fumes, celebrities swarmed the paddock, and for danny ricciardo, it was pure electric. but amidst the chaos, his gaze always landed on you, his secret weapon – literally and figuratively.

you, (y/n) (l/n), were the engineer who made his car a sleek, purring beast. you were also the complete opposite of him. where danny was sunshine personified, you were a sly smile and a dry wit, a black cat in a room full of golden retrievers. being slightly reserved whilst dating the man with the biggest smile would seem odd to others, but danny loved you in all your light.

"alright team!" danny boomed, his energy radiating as he clapped his hands. "let's make monaco ours!"

you, in redbull uniform, raised an eyebrow. "more coffee, sunshine?" you deadpanned, handing him a steaming mug.

he grinned, taking a swig. "thanks, (y/n). you're a lifesaver." he winked, then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "just remember, if we win, that victory shoey is all yours."

you snorted, a small sound that always tickled danny's heart. "just don't splash champagne on me and make sure you don't scratch the car."

he chuckled, leaning closer. "don't worry, love. i wouldn't dream of it." the last word was barely a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. you were dating for a few months now, a secret you both fiercely guarded. it wasn't because you were ashamed, rather it was to protect both of your personal lives. you had been friends for seven years and dating for one year. all the other drivers loved you and saw you as a little sister. being the polar opposite of daniel, everyone thought you were a match made in heaven.

flashback

the cityscape of singapore twinkled below, a kaleidoscope of neon against the inky night. danny, relaxed after a podium finish, leaned against the balcony railing, a beer balanced precariously in his hand. you perched on a nearby chair, fiddling with a stray napkin. six years of friendship, countless late-night talks, and a simmering desire that threatened to boil over. tonight, you were determined to make a move.

"crazy race, right?" you started, your voice barely above a whisper. you hated how nervous you felt around him, a stark contrast to your usual sharp wit.

danny chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "yeah, those final laps were a heart-stopper. but hey, at least i didn't get sandwiched between bottas and verstappen this time."

you managed a smile. "true. though, witnessing your car-handling skills under pressure is always a treat for the eyes." a teasing lilt crept into your voice, the one that usually made him laugh. but tonight, he just raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours.

"so," you continued, feeling a familiar heat creep up your cheeks, "about that victory dinner tomorrow night..."

"yeah?" he prompted, taking a swig of his beer.

"well, i was thinking, maybe we could..." you trailed off, the carefully rehearsed words dissolving on your tongue. frustration bubbled within you. why was this so hard?

"maybe we could what?" danny asked gently, his voice laced with a hint of concern.

you squeezed the napkin in your hand, the flimsy paper threatening to tear. "forget it. it's stupid."

"hey," danny said, setting his beer down and turning to face you fully. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now soft and serious. "nothing you say is stupid, (y/n)."

you looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. "except maybe what i was about to say."

a beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions. you felt a tear prick your eye, the frustration morphing into a strange mix of despair and defiance.

"look, danny," you blurted out, your voice shaky, "we've been friends for, what, six years now? we practically share a brain when it comes to the car. but lately... lately, things feel different."

he stepped closer, his presence a tangible warmth in the cool night air. "different how?"

you took a shaky breath. "i don't know how to say this. it's stupid, really. but..." you met his gaze, your voice barely audible, "i think i might be falling for you."

the words hung heavy in the air. a flicker of surprise crossed danny's face, then a slow smile spread across his lips. it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"you think?" he said, his voice a husky whisper. he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the stray tear that escaped your eye.

"maybe," you mumbled, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

before you could say anything else, danny closed the gap between you. his kiss was soft, tentative at first, then deepened with a newfound urgency. it was a kiss filled with unspoken desires, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings. you melted into him, the familiar warmth of his friendship now tinged with a passionate intensity that left you breathless.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breath.

"i think i might be falling for you too, (y/n)," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "a lot more than maybe."

a laugh, shaky but genuine, escaped your lips. relief washed over you, mingled with a newfound sense of joy. in the neon glow of singapore night, under the watchful gaze of a million twinkling stars, you knew this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

end of flashback

the qualifying session was a nail-biter. you watched from the pit wall, your fingers unconsciously tapping a rhythm against the table. danny caught your eye, flashed a reassuring smile, and then was off, a blur of blue and red. when he secured pole position, the team erupted.

in the celebratory chaos, danny spotted you amidst the throng, a lone island of calm amidst the cheering. he weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you. reaching you, he bent down slightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

"ready to celebrate, ms. genius ?" he asked, extending his hand.

you smirked, a playful jab back. "only if it involves avoiding exuberant displays of footwear."

he laughed, a sound that always warmed your heart. "no promises, love," he winked, then surprised you. his hand, instead of taking yours, brushed yours lightly, his pinky extending out and interlocking with yours.

you knew what it meant. a silent exchange in your secret language. a small gesture, easily missed by others, but to you, it was a secret handshake, a whispered affirmation in the middle of the storm. your own pinky curled around his, a silent promise. being a black cat dating the biggest golden retriever

the race was a heart-stopper. strategy calls crackled through your earpiece, fueling your anxiety. finally, the checkered flag fell, and danny emerged victorious. the roar of the crowd was deafening.

as danny jumped out of the car, his helmet still on, he scanned the crowd. his eyes met yours, and a wide grin split his face. he sprinted towards you, the cameras flashing around you. but he ignored them all, reaching you and scooping you into a tight hug.

"we did it, (y/n)!" he shouted, his voice muffled by your silky hair.

you hugged him back tightly, a surge of relief and pride washing over you. in that moment, under the watchful eyes of the oblivious crowd, you knew your secret weapon wasn't just the science behind the car. it was the sunshine-haired driver with whom you shared a silent language, a pinky promise, and a love that thrived even in the whirlwind of monaco.

the other drivers, who had long suspected something between you two, exchanged knowing glances. lewis hamilton raised a knowing eyebrow at max verstappen. "looks like ricciardo found his lucky charm," he remarked.

max just grinned. "more like his secret weapon."

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[sc0tters]

New Cities Mean Fresh Starts, Right? | Jack Hughes

summary: you’ve finally moved to New Jersey and whilst most people seem happy to see you, one man in particular doesn’t. And did you forget? He’s your new neighbour!

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.21k

authors note: we have been waiting but the first chapter of the brutal series is now here! It’s a little bit shorter than what I would have wanted but nevertheless I like the ground roots it has set for the rest of the series. This is an interactive AU so you guys are the ones who drive the blurbs and social media posts for this series!

brutal masterlist

You watched as Alex brought the last of the boxes up to your apartment.

The frown was clear on your face as he looked back up to you “we promised that you wouldn’t cry!” Alex groaned at the sight of your lip quivering “c’mere,” he sighed holding his arms out for you to come and hug him.

It took you like less than ten seconds to respond as you ran over to him almost tackling your best friend in the process “it’s not too late for you to come back to LA with me.” Alex reminded you as he squeezed your waist.

This was a common moment for you two as he let his hands slide up to cup your face “I gotta stay here Al,” you mumbled placing your hands on top of his.

He smiled nodding “was worth a shot,” Alex shrugged making you laugh “and are you sure you don’t want me to have a talk with Jack?” The Kings player added as the idea of you being left alone with Jack made him feel sick.

Sure Alex liked his friend when it came to the way Jack was around you, Alex felt better being there to tell him to lay off. The older boy felt like it was his job to protect you “I can handle him!” You complained rolling your eyes.

Being Jacks new coworker was not exactly something you were looking forward to, but your position with the Devils was a promotion from the one with the Kings and the money was also better here. So Jack was going to have to put up with you like how you planned to put up with him “just let me know if he gets too much for you.” Alex mumbled taking the cap from his head and placing it on yours.

That black cap of his was on the top of the list of clothing items that you stole from Alex whenever you went into his closet. You had the blue version of his hat but Alex’s was always your favourite “you finally letting me keep this one?” You gasped dropping your jaw as your eyes lit up.

Alex nodded as he let out a laugh “we can have split custody for it.” He proposed wriggling his eyebrows as he made you smile.

“I can get behind that.”

Your first night in your apartment was rough to put it lightly. Alex had left to go back to LA which meant that you were living on your own for the first time in your life since you had living with your best friend from the moment you left university.

New Jersey was humid in the morning as you sat on your balcony enjoying a much needed coffee and Redbull as you swore you only got three hours of sleep all together.

It was peaceful at you watched the city wake up beneath you “mom just listen to me!” Your neighbour groaned slamming the door behind him as he walked onto his own balcony.

Your eyes went wide at the disruption turning to see the what was going on “I think she’s here!” The voice all of a sudden began to sound familiar.

It was Jack.

You were quick to slide onto the floor as you tried to avoid being caught by him “I think I’ve got a new neighbour.” Jack mumbled as he had heard you hit the floor.

There was a mental coin toss going on in your brain as you contemplated what to do “fuck it,” you grumbled getting up as you brushed your fingers through your hair.

What you didn’t expect was that he’d be looking right back at you “I’ve got to go.” The Devils players eyes went wide as he stared at yours.

But before he got the chance to talk to you your legs had already pushed you back into your apartment leaving the boy alone with nothing more than the mug from your coffee and your empty can of Redbull “move into the place with no neighbours they said, it’d be fun they said.” He grumbled to himself slamming the glass door behind him.

Today was going to be a long day for the both of you.

Sure you knew what you were doing was going to piss Jack off but you were friendly with Luke and wanted to have at least one friendly face at work.

short stack 😎: howdy neighbour 🤠

tall shot 🦅: what.

tall shot 🦅: NEIGHBOUR?!

Your couldn’t help but laugh as your phone began to ring with Luke’s contact information lighting up your phone “hey tall shot,” you smiled walking into the prudential centre for your introductory meeting with the players as the previous photographer had apparently been integrated pretty well amongst everyone.

Luke shut the door behind him as he obviously didn’t want Jack to hear about this “you better not be fucking with me short stack.” The nickname was something he had called you for the last three years from the moment he overtook you in height. It started off as a joke when he had said it since there was the guy who was trying to flirt with you and Luke came to your rescue and the joke his came from there.

You giggled hearing his words “you think I’m lying?” You asked smiling as you sat on your chair “come and visit the media office when you get to the centre.” You proposed grinning to yourself.

The youngest Hughes boy chuckled to himself “I’ll be there in a bit shortie.” His tone was serious as he now looking forward to all of those fitness tests that he was going to be put through.

What you didn’t know media day meant was that you were going to be forced to be stood alone with each of the players individually.

John and Nico and each offered to show you around the city and of course you accepted on both occasions because Luke’s inevitable tour was going to be to the nearest Costco and maybe to the apartment building gym “who should I send in next?” John asked sending you a toothy grin as he grabbed his jersey to pull over his head.

You looked at the list of player you had left “little Hughesy would be nice,” you proposed ready to see the youngest Hughes boy again “you got it!” He called out walking to the door “oh one more thing.” John spun around to face you as he smiled.

Your head tilted up to look up at him “yep?” You cocked your chin as you sent him a grin “you’re gonna fucking smash it!” His words of encouragement made you laugh as he walked out of room.

With the little time you had left to try to work on things in preparation for Luke’s arrival as you pulled his jerseys off of their stack “pretty sure that you’ve got the wrong Hughes jerseys.” The voice came from the door causing you to drop the hanger on the floor.

You spun around so fast that you almost fell over “now do you mind telling me what the fuck you are doing in Jersey?” Jack asked letting the door slam shut behind him.

Fuck.

[paradise-crafted]

TIES are polycule, TIES are family, get some new group dynamics people /lh

TIES are college roommates

Impulse and Tango are the friends who spend all day together because they have the same major and they come back to the apartment and work on separate things bc they just spent all day together. They both occasionally lose their minds and commiserate over tough classes

Skizzleman is the upperclassman that is always out doing insane stuff but comes back and gives the best advice on life and school

Etho is the roommate you almost never see. He's always busy with projects/gaming/work. When you do see him, he has 2 full mugs of coffee and a redbull.

When all of them are together, they make rube Goldberg machines to launch eggs at the frathouse across the street

[heybluez]

if i didn't know better, i'd think you were still around

little angsty disaster twins snippet i posted on ao3 a while ago. thought it might be cool to post it here too! cw for major character implied/ referenced death. enjoy!

-----

He walked past his room again.

At this point, it was starting to become an exercise in futility. It was like a data point to be measured, a new tally to be marked down, how many times could he walk past his room in a day under the guise of doing literally anything else. Checking the kitchen to see if they needed more eggs. Ducking into the dojo to see if Raph had let up on his everlasting training routine since he had last checked on him, seeing if Mikey needed more salve for his aching arms. Walking behind dad’s recliner to see if he had moved an inch, at all, or if he was still stuck watching the same stupid infomercial reruns in lieu of getting up and helping mend the chaotic, broken stasis that his sons were stuck in.

It had been almost five months. Four months and sixteen days, if you wanted to be perfectly exact, but man, who was really counting?

(He was. Donnie was.)

It was, truthfully, stasis. The time had passed, but nobody acknowledged it, not really. It was still August fifth. Maybe it would always be August fifth. It felt that way. Sure, they moved around it, this gaping hole of just, loss, the grief in its totality, like it didn’t exist, but the proof of it persisted every time Donnie walked past his room, and he wasn’t there.

Leo was supposed to be in his room.

Leo was supposed to be in his room so that when Donnie walked in after fruitless efforts of getting a specific line of Python to code, a blanket would be lifted so Donnie could crawl in and commiserate in Leo’s insomniatic company. Leo was supposed to be in his room so that Donnie could bring in two sugar free Redbulls and turn on a Five Nights at Freddy’s video essay, staying up until four in the morning discussing with Leo which game contributed the most lore to the series. Leo was supposed to be in his room so that Donnie knew exactly where to find him when he got a text from Leo that he was heading topside for a slushie run and wanted Donnie to come with him. Leo was supposed to be in his room so that Donnie could come bug him to share his Switch so they could play Mario Kart.

Leo was supposed to be in his room.

And all Donnie could do was walk by, adding more tallies to the count for every time he did, wishing he could push past this inane thing, this fear, of walking into Leo’s room, and having to face the total eclipse of acceptance that his room would always be empty.

It had been almost five months.

He wondered if Leo had ever taken the mug he had been drinking his peppermint tea in back to the kitchen, the tea he had made the night before the world ended, or if it was just collecting dust now on his nightstand. He wondered if Leo had taped up the left corner of his Jupiter Jim poster that had fallen down, or if it was still hanging off the wall, doomed to be stuck that way for the rest of time. He wondered if he had remembered to plug in his laptop, or if it was still sitting on his bed where it would remain forever paused on whatever movie he had turned on to help him fall asleep.

Donnie could try to rationalize to himself all he wanted that he walked past Leo’s door everyday to check on the state of the lair. To check on the state of his family, as they too tried to process their grief. He could give himself a million reasons as to why it wouldn’t be alright for him to finally just walk into Leo’s room, a room that was now made to hold his memory, a mortuary for the people who loved him, love him, so much. In truth, he was scared to see the same stasis that he saw in Raph, saw in Mikey, saw in his dad. Their life was an ellipsis, waiting for the resolving sentence that was Leonardo to make them truly whole. If he walked into Leo’s room, if he finally let himself be brave, the pause button he had placed on his own life would start playing again, and the feeble control he so painstakingly allowed himself in his grief would finally be unraveled.

The feeble, tiniest hope still left in him that when he walked past Leo’s door, maybe he might hear the shitty eighties glam rock Leo so loved to dance to, or a Ghibli movie he had watched a million times, or hell, maybe even Leo’s voice and his wonderful, dazzling laugh as he talked to someone on the phone.

He still had this small hope inside him that perhaps Leo wasn’t truly gone, just somewhere far away where Donnie couldn’t quite reach him, and any minute he might portal back into his room where Donnie could find him again. That seeing the portal close, the portal that painted the early morning New York City sky in so many beautiful shades of brilliant colors, had just been a terrible dream. And he would wake up any minute now, and the one color the sky couldn’t take away from him, his most favorite shade of blue, would be waiting for him like he always was.

But the dream didn’t pass. It never did.

Donnie felt like insanity personified, and maybe he was. Doing the same thing over and over, hoping, wishing, praying for a different result.

One more time. Just once more.

He walked past his room.

[dolls-self-ships]

How I think the HH crew takes their coffee

Lucifer orders the most complicated, sugary, step specific drink you could imagine. He is hated by baristas everywhere. Also gets so excited when ordering he changes it at least 3 times halfway through explaining it. Probably gets something different everytime too. He is a regular with no usual. Charlie canonically likes frappaccinos! Like her dad, I can see her having similar tastes, sugar, but also wanting to keep it simple so that she doesn't overwhelm the employees (she's too considerate for her own good). Orders straight from the menu exactly how it is with no alterations, is also the one who probably walks in with a list of orders for her friends, goes as slow as possible for the cashiers sake. Angeldust rolls up to the drivethrough hung over and orders something iced- probably a caramel drink and he asks for it to specifically be drowned in caramel, and an extra shot. Either that or a vanilla iced latte. Vaggie is not a huge fan of coffee, she gets a tea or tea latte instead. Earl grey is her favourite and she likes a lot of milk. Alastor loves a nice extra hot black coffee. He wants that bitch scolding and bitter. Doesn't even drink it, just splashes it in his face. Where that would normally give someone 3rd degree burns, it gives him some 'extra pep' in the morning, as he puts it (god he's a fucking freak) Husk takes his coffee black also, but instead will spike it with his own bourbon he keeps in a flask. Will sometimes get cream and sugar if he's feeling, as he puts it , 'fancy' (bro is so low maintenance) Nifty isn't allowed to have caffeine for obvious reasons Sir Pentious is another non-coffee drinker but drinks exclusively tea. Is a bit of a snob about it too. Needs the leaves to be fresh or he WILL be able to taste the burntness. His favourite is peppermint. Would rather die than bother the barista to remake it though so he normally brews his own with his own needlessly complicated tea making invention of course.  Cherri bomb loooooves caffine, but isn't much of a coffee drinker. More of a monster energy and redbull kinda gal. She needs something she can drink fast and hard. Don't even get me started on those 5 hour energy drinks. Oh boy. Don't let her near them (she will kill u for one) Vox is an avid coffee drinker. Practically lives off of it and can't get through the day without (it's a problem). Definately has one of those 'don't talk to me before I've had my coffee' mugs bc he's an asshole. Drinks like 5-6 cups in a single day. Send help. Velvette gets a coffee once in the morning and then one in the afternoon. Pulls up to the cash register with her sunglasses on and outfit for the day put together, intimidating buisness lady vibes off the charts while she orders between phone calls. Also definately shushes the barista of they try to ask her any questions, can't you see she's on the phone? Her order is LONG and COMPLICATED and she needs it made the way she likes to a T, she also talks fast and no she will NOT repeat herself so you better be a fast writer. Probably gets something vanilla flavoured with 3 shots of espresso in it. Valentino isn't a coffee guy but if he needs it for a long shoot or late night he gets either an Americano or pure espresso shots. No time to waste with the frills and fancy stuff despite the look of him. Also will throw the cup at the barista if the shots come out burnt or expired.

[verstarppen]

have some cunty redbull

thinking about that one person on tiktok who made a mug with this photo of checo with the word SLAY behind him

[percervall]

Mamma mia, here I go again {pt1}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: talk of pregnancy, brief mentions of a one night stand, mentions of cheating, mentions of abortion Word count: 1.2k Taglist: @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lazybot @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj

Part 1 of the Mamma Mia series

“Still not feeling well?” George asks you when he spots you dropping slices of ginger into your mug. You shake your head, trying to breathe through the waves of nausea. 

“Had too much to drink again?” he jokes.

“No, God I wish it was just a hangover… Just- Just the consequences of my own actions,” you tip-toe around the subject as you pour the hot water into your mug. You feel George’s eyes on you, can almost hear the gears turning as he tries to figure out what you mean.

“So not a bug or food poisoning, not hungover… Are you-..”

“Yes,” you cut him off, not wanting anyone to hear, “Yes, I am and- and it is what it is.” You feel your shoulders tense up and you will yourself to relax.

“Does Kevin know?”

You shake your head, shame settling heavy in your chest at the mention of your on-and-off-again boyfriend, “No, and I don’t see why he should because I am not keeping it.” Before George can say anything else you leave the coffee station in the motorhome to find solace in your office, praying to whoever will listen that this doesn’t get out. 

Your hope is short lived when there’s a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call out, eyes glued to the screens in front of you.

“Hey,” a voice calls from the doorway and you freeze when you realise who it is.

“H-hey,” you reply, trying your hardest not to turn around.

“Can you please look at me?” You bite your lip and swivel round, pushing your computer glasses up into your hair. Looking up your eyes meet his’. 

“Hey,” Lewis says again, a warmth to his eyes you’re having trouble placing. 

“Hi,” you manage to utter, voice timid. You know you would’ve eventually have to see him again, working for the same team kind of made it impossible not to, even though both of you had decided to never speak of that night again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lewis asks, breaking through the fog of thoughts and memories.

“Tell you what?” You can feel your brows pull together in confusion. 

“That you’re pregnant.” 

The moment those words leave his mouth, you feel as if someone has pulled the rug from under you.

“Who told you?” you manage to utter as panic rises in your throat.

“George. I overheard him telling Lando and Alex before the press conference.”

“Oh no,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. You can only imagine the gifs and memes that are floating around on social media right now. 

“I take it he wasn’t making it up? Come on, talk to me, My,” he says gently, crouching down in front of you. The nickname helps you feel a little more at ease, it having followed you for most of your career ever since you told one of the reporters off for making a sexist comment when you were at RedBull, Mika Häkkinen overhearing you.

“Yes, I am pregnant,” you whisper, “and the reason I didn’t tell you is because-.. I don’t-.. Lewis, I fucked up so bad. I don’t know who the father is.” 

The two of you look at one another and you know he is thinking the same as you –the night neither of you regret but promised to never speak about. 

“So there’s a chance I’m-..” 

You nod, biting your cheek to stop the tears from falling. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping it, I can’t Lewis.” 

“Wait, hold on. Does Kev know?”

You shake your head. Confusion is written all over his face.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t look him in the eye and tell him I cheated. Twice. In the span of 48 hours.”

“Oh Jesus. Damn girl,” Lewis mutters. 

“But it’s fine,” you tell him in an attempt to convince yourself and ignore the feeling of shame weighing on you like a ton of bricks, “I have an appointment booked for Tuesday. I’ll be fine.” You wipe your tears away and plaster on a fake smile as you put your glasses back on. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do,” you say, effectively shutting down the rest of this conversation. Just four more days, you tell yourself, you’ve got this, just four more days.

Trying your hardest to keep your head down –and avoid the men that participated in your predicament–, you make your way through the paddock, scrolling through the data on your iPad. 

“Skat?” someone calls out to you from your left. There’s only one person you know who would call you that and right now he is the last person you want to see.

“Oh, hi Kev,” you offer meekly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kevin asks you as he comes to stand in front of you. An unnerving sense of deja vu climbs its way up your spine.

“Didn’t tell you what?” you ask in return. Instead of answering you, Kevin holds up his phone, showing you the still paired Google calendar. 

Tuesday 5 September  9:30 BPAS

“Kev-..” 

“No, tell me why you didn’t tell me and I had to find out through Google. An abortion provider, really?” 

“Lower your voice will you?” you hiss, his tone rubbing you the wrong way. 

“Since when do I not have a right to know you’re pregnant with my child?” Kevin ignores your request and barges on, demanding an answer. 

“Everything alright here?” The Australian accent makes you want to cry. Of course it’s just your luck that he is also here.

“Doesn’t concern you, Webber,” Kevin tells the older man before turning back to you, “Why did you keep this from me?” 

“Kevin please-..” 

“No! Why didn’t you tell me that you’re pregnant?” 

You know you have two options here: you can either come up with some bullshit excuse or you tell him the truth, and neither of them seem particularly appealing right now. 

“Because-..” you start, swallowing thickly, “Because I don’t know if you’re the father.” You feel both sets of eyes on you as you fight back the tears.

“Sweetheart, what do you mean?” Mark asks you quietly, a hand on your arm. 

“You know damn well what I mean. And I am not your sweetheart.” 

You have to give Kevin credit, it only takes him two seconds to put one and one together before he’s swinging for the former F1 driver. Mark takes a step back, shielding you behind him at the same time.

“Okay,” you hear Nico say and when you peek around Mark’s broad back, you see the German driver holding Kevin back. You have no idea where he came from, but for once you’re grateful to see him. “Kev, we fock smash doors, not people.” 

“Suck my balls,” Kevin seethes, struggling to break free. 

“Kevin, unless you want to explain all of this to both Steiner and Netflix, please listen to Nico,” you say. Kevin freezes, seemingly becoming aware of his surroundings, and lowers his arm. 

“We will talk tonight, okay? Pretty sure you have a meeting to get to and I need to see if Toto hasn’t fired me yet. Tonight,” you add when Kevin opens his mouth to reply, “Same goes for you Mark. I’ll text you.” And with that you leave them behind, head down as you walk back to the Mercedes motorhome.

And the plot thickens! Told you it was an unhinged idea 🙈

Feel free to let me know what you think! Your comments, tags and likes mean the world to me

[mahoushoujopeony]

Midorikawa's got a mug of what can be presumed to be coffee and 5 cans of anime redbull on his desk PLUS at least 4 cans in the trash.