#yap hour

[whitesnakewine]

Art tag Personal hcs #yap hour My oc: Suru

MMD/Fancam

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WIP doujin/fics

Art request rules

[illyrianbitch]

hello my sexy beautiful hot perfect friends, sorry i disappeared…

i’m all good n healthy n will hopefully be back to writing when life’s a lil less crazy <3 thank u for all the sweet messages, i’ll get to them n cry at every one 🥹

[nowanderers]

when fic plotting almost turns into sylus brainrot

@luckylittlepaw

[blended-ice]

Catching up on 20 years worth of gossip

[snrland]

Showed my friend that one "I'm not emo" post because I laughed with tears. Side effect, now they're calling me emo again.

I'm not.

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[blindseer707]

I’m long past my trigun obsession but…oh god the fan art on here is so ???? Delectable. What the fuck why are all the trigun artists the most talented people on this planet

[whitesnakewine]

Orokabu where kabuto is a yandere sex craze toward orochimaru -> ok 👍

Orokabu where kabuto form complex codependency on Orochimaru they're both equally worse for each other -> getting warmer ☺️

Orokabu where one guy fuck like a feverish tormented soul of the damned who punishing himself with the guilt of murdered his adopted mother by violated his mother figure. And the other one is going through the ritual of breaking in and embracing their new body both in spirit and flesh -> there we go!!!! 🥰😍❤️‍🔥💖❤️💕

[vulturesawake]

This is what it feels like when someone infodumps to me. By the way

Edit to add caption:

[desc begin: a six panel comic featuring an everyman character sitting on a couch with an autism creature loafing on the back of the couch. The creature jumps down to the seat and lies their head on the person's leg, much to their delight. Desc end.]

[nowanderers]

idk how i pulled this off within the first ten pulls. wtf??? should i play the lottery today.

[lov3lycosmos]

♤—♤ Mini Dress Dilema ♤—♤

Genre: smut

Pairings: Bangchan x Fem!reader

Summary: Reader uses her boyfriends non-controlling preference over her clothing choices as an advantage to rile him up.

Warnings: teasing, cursing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink (used once), jeongin finds out.

Cosmos note: this idea was from my pookie @vampzity 🙂‍↕️

my library! (not proofread!)

Your reflection smiled back at you as you smoothed your hands over the fabric of your dress—tight-fitting, barely-there, and off-shoulder in a way you knew would push boundaries. The skirt flared ever so slightly when you twirled, bouncing against your thighs with each subtle movement. You looked good, and you knew it. But more importantly—you looked dangerous.

The soft click of the door behind you signaled Chan’s arrival.

He walked in, towel draped around his neck, damp hair falling into his eyes after a quick shower. “You almost ready, baby?” he asked casually, barely glancing up—until he did.

His eyes froze on you.

It was just a beat. Just one second. But that was enough. You caught it—his gaze flickering over your legs, the exposed skin, the tightness around your waist. He swallowed, and his jaw clenched for half a second before he looked back up with a faint smile. “You’re really wearing that tonight?”

You turned around slowly, lifting your hair off your neck like it was the most innocent act in the world. “Mhm. Is it too much?”

Chan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as his eyes narrowed in amusement. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said sweetly, grabbing your lip gloss and applying it slowly, dragging it across your bottom lip just to see if his gaze would drop. It did.

“I’m not gonna say a word,” he muttered, backing away toward the door. “But just so you know… if you’re trying to get a reaction out of me—” he smirked, “—you might end up getting more than you bargained for.”

You giggled as he left to his closet across the room, feeling victorious already.

You stayed in front of the mirror a little longer, adjusting your neckline, tugging the hem of your minidress down a fraction—though it didn’t help much. The dress was made to tease, and now that Chan had seen it, you couldn’t stop thinking about that tiny clench in his jaw. That subtle shift in his stance.

“Is it actually too much?” you finally asked, your voice softer as you turned to look at him through the mirror.

Chan, now at the closet, was half-dressed—black slacks hanging low on his hips, belt unbuckled, a plain white shirt hanging from his fingertips. He paused mid-buttoning and met your eyes through the mirror.

“You want the honest answer?” he asked, voice low, almost unreadable.

You blinked, nodding once.

He walked toward you, slow and deliberate, letting the silence linger until he was standing just behind you. One hand reached up to brush your hair gently to the side, baring your neck. His lips grazed the shell of your ear, voice just above a whisper.

“You look hot, baby. Like, so hot it’s gonna be hard for me not to lose it.”

His hand slid down your bare arm slowly. “But you already knew that when you put it on, didn’t you?”

You smirked, head tilting as a thrill ran down your spine. “Maybe.”

He chuckled, dark and low in his throat. “You know I love seeing you like this. Confident. Sexy.” His hands moved to rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles into the fabric. “Wear it. Own it. But just know—if you keep pushing me tonight…”

He pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.

“I won’t be held responsible.”

Your breath hitched slightly, heart skipping as you tried to keep cool. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and maybe… between your legs too.

“…That a promise or a threat?” you whispered, half teasing.

Chan grinned, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. “Why not both?”

He pulled back with a wink, finally slipping his shirt on and beginning to button it casually, like he hadn’t just whispered threats against your composure. Like he wasn’t about to watch you drive him wild all night.

You watched him for a second longer—soft brown curls, that annoyingly unreadable calm on his face. You could play this game all night.

Let’s see who breaks first.

✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧

The ride to the party was quiet—too quiet. Chan’s hand rested on your thigh the entire time, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your skin, but his eyes were trained on the road. Calm. Collected. Still so composed despite how your dress hiked up each time you shifted, despite how you didn’t bother to fix it.

When you arrived at the venue—a rented out loft with warm lights spilling through the windows and music thumping low—you knew it was time to start playing. Chan opened the car door for you like a gentleman, offering his hand as you stepped out, and you could practically feel his gaze skimming your thighs. Still, not a single word from him. Just that same maddening calm.

You greeted a few familiar faces at the door before the two of you stepped inside, where the rest of Stray Kids were already scattered around—some by the drinks, others lounging on the couches.

“Finally!” Jisung waved you over with a big grin. “Thought you two were gonna skip and do gross couple stuff.”

“We can still do that,” you teased lightly, and though it was meant to be playful, Chan’s hand briefly tightened on your waist before letting go.

You made your way into the room, letting Chan get pulled into a quick conversation with Felix and Changbin as you floated toward Minho and Seungmin.

“Y/N, that dress is illegal,” Minho said flatly, eyes dragging over the fabric before flicking back to yours.

You laughed, placing a light hand on his shoulder. “You think so? I was worried it wasn’t doing enough.”

Seungmin choked on his drink. “No, it’s doing plenty.”

You caught Chan’s eyes from across the room. He was watching. Of course he was. Expression unreadable, drink in hand, that damn calmness still plastered across his face.

Perfect.

You tilted your head at Minho, then leaned in just slightly. “Chan helped me pick it out,” you said sweetly, letting your fingers gently brush his arm before pulling away.

As you made your way toward the snack table, Jeongin popped up beside you, eyes wide as he took in the outfit. “Noona, you’re gonna make hyung go crazy.”

“Who, Chan?” you blinked innocently. “He doesn’t mind. Said I could wear whatever I wanted.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Chan start walking toward you. Slow, steady. And though he didn’t say anything, the way his eyes narrowed just slightly when you leaned over the table to grab a drink spoke volumes. You made sure to arch your back just enough. Nothing obscene—just suggestive.

Just enough.

He stopped beside you, leaning down to murmur into your ear, voice low. “Having fun, baby?”

You turned to him with a wide, innocent smile. “So much.”

“Mm.” He brought his drink to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. “Glad to hear it.”

Then he stepped away again.

Your chest tightened with heat. God, he was good. Too good.

You mingled a little more, this time striking up a conversation with Hyunjin. He complimented your look—of course he did—and you responded with a bright smile and a flirty, “You always know how to make a girl feel good.”

Across the room, Chan was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tense.

You kept your focus on Hyunjin, laughing softly at something he said, reaching out to brush invisible lint off his jacket sleeve. Nothing bold. Nothing too obvious. But you could feel the weight of Chan’s stare searing into your back.

And then—

“Y/N.” His voice cut through the music, deep and commanding.

You turned slowly, eyebrows raised. “Hm?”

He was already at your side, hand resting firmly on the small of your back. “Come with me.”

You blinked. “Where?”

He leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and whispered,

“To the car… now.”

✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧

The door shut with a deep thunk behind you, and before you could even fully sit back in your seat, Chan was already reaching across to click the lock. Silence settled in the car like a heavy fog—only the sound of your shallow breaths and the distant thump of bass from the party filling the space.

You glanced over at him cautiously.

His hands were still on the wheel. Eyes staring straight ahead.

Too calm.

Too quiet.

“Chan…?”

He finally turned his head, and his gaze was sharp. No smile. No teasing lilt in his voice.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” he asked lowly.

“I didn’t do anything—”

“Minho. Jeongin. Hyunjin.” He listed their names one by one, ticking them off on his fingers slowly. “All of them got a show. Bending over the table, touching their arms, giggling like they’re the ones making you blush.”

You swallowed hard.

“I just wanted to get your attention,” you murmured.

He scoffed quietly. “Princess, you had my attention the second you walked out in that dress.” He finally turned to you fully, leaning in until his nose brushed yours. “But now? You’re gonna have all of mine.”

You whimpered as his lips grazed your jaw, then your throat, then lower, his hand sliding up your thigh to push your dress higher and higher until the soft lace of your panties was fully exposed under the faint glow of the dashboard lights.

“I warned you about teasing me, didn’t I?” he said, fingers curling around the waistband.

“Y-Yeah.”

“And what did you do?”

“…Teased you.”

“Exactly.”

He didn’t hesitate. Two fingers pushed the fabric aside and pressed against your slit—already wet, already aching. He chuckled darkly.

“You were like this the whole party?” he taunted, lips brushing your ear. “Soaking wet while you flirted with my members?”

“Chan—” you gasped, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers slipped in, knuckles deep, the stretch hitting all at once.

“No,” he said firmly, other hand gripping your chin to face him. “You’re gonna keep your eyes on me this time. You wanted my attention? You got it.”

He pumped his fingers slow at first, curling them just right—dragging across your sweet spot, pulling out halfway just to plunge back in harder. And faster. Each thrust came with a scolding kiss to your neck or a filthy whisper in your ear.

“Is this what you wanted? Hm? To get fucked in the car like a needy little brat?”

“Yes—yes, please, Chan—”

He smirked against your skin. “You sound so sweet when you’re desperate.”

Your legs were shaking, thighs quivering as you neared your high—but before you could say another word, your phone buzzed in the cupholder between you.

Chan’s fingers stilled.

You blinked, breath caught in your throat as he leaned over and read the caller ID.

“Jeongin.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered.

He grinned darkly, lifted his fingers away from you (with your slick glistening under the lights), and casually picked up the call with his clean hand.

“Yeah?”

There was a short pause. Jeongin’s voice filtered through the speaker—cheerful and oblivious. “Hyung! We were just wondering where you guys went. Everything okay?”

Chan’s tone was smooth. Way too smooth. “Yeah, we just had to grab something from the car.”

You covered your mouth with both hands, thighs pressing together, trying not to make a sound as your arousal dripped down your thighs.

“Oh, okay! We’re about to order some doordash, just text me if you want anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, Jeongin.”

Click.

The second the call ended, Chan dropped the phone back in the cupholder and turned to you slowly.

“You were gonna come without my permission,” he murmured. “Weren’t you?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Only a soft nod.

“That’s cute.” He leaned in, nudging his nose along your jaw. “Let’s fix that.”

Then he unbuckled his pants...

Chan’s hands were already back on you—ripping your panties fully aside this time, dragging his soaked fingers down your folds as he pulled his cock free with the other. Thick, flushed, twitching at the tip as he wrapped a hand around the base and hissed softly.

“You made me this hard from just watching you act like a little slut at a party,” he muttered. “You’re lucky I didn’t bend you over that damn counter.”

You whimpered, hips already lifting in search of friction. “Chan, please—”

“No. Say it right.”

“Please, daddy…”

That broke him.

He pushed your thighs wide open, lined himself up, and sank in slow. All the way until his hips pressed flush against you, letting you feel every inch stretching you open, filling you to the brim. You cried out softly, hands fisting his hoodie, head thrown back against the seat.

“Fuck,” he growled, burying his face into your neck. “You feel so good around me. Like you were made for this.”

His pace started hard—deep, rolling thrusts that made the entire car creak. The windows fogged fast, the leather seat squeaking underneath you both. The sound of skin slapping, your quiet moans, his sharp grunts—it was all too much.

“You like this?” he breathed, pounding into you even harder now. “This what you wanted, baby? To have all my fucking attention on you?”

Your answer was nothing but a wrecked gasp and nod, your legs tightening around his waist as your second high started building—white-hot and dizzying.

He knew. He felt it.

Chan kissed you hard—sloppy and deep—and whispered, “Cum for me. Let go.”

Your whole body shook as the orgasm hit, and he didn’t stop—just kept chasing his own, gripping your hips bruisingly tight until a long, broken groan left him and he came deep inside, hips jerking, spilling every drop into you.

He collapsed against you, both of you panting in the humid air of the car.

And then…

BZZZZZ.

Your phone buzzed again.

Chan reached over lazily, pressed answer on speaker, just as you were still catching your breath, his softening cock still inside you.

Jeongin’s voice chirped through again.

“Hyung? You think we can’t see your guys’ car rocking from the window?”

You choked on a gasp and hid your face in Chan’s shoulder.

Chan just grinned lazily, pulled out slow, and said, “Guess we’ll be in soon.”

Click.

taglist: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325

(I'M STILL ADDING PEOPLE TO TAG! comment on any post, send an ask or a message if you want added!)

[icantbotherwithusernames]

Gravity Falls but Bill’s “i like Mabel cuz she’s an agent of chaos” opinion is actually correct

aka a drawing of my au that has been living in my brain rent free for the past several months

[justtwospoons]

This is just another shitpost, a copy and paste from what I spammed my friend at like 5pm- ish Jason or Red-Hood who's known for having 'information from the dead/graves' but his boyfriend is Danny 'phantom' Fenton and will just yap to his boyfriend over ghost gossip and not even realize that he's sharing new/unheard of information to Jason over crimes and other things happening around Gotham or in crime alley

People gossip but the dead talk, and Danny is all too happy to have someone to listen to all the ghost drama with him that the man will yap to Jason for hours. (Jason has timed it before, it got to hour 5 before he called it a day)

No one can figure out how why or when Jason started becoming two or three steps ahead of every villain/gang/goon/whatever, calling 'anonymous' tips into the batfam/police/whoever tf, days or even weeks before anything happened.

Jason who somehow ends up scaring the shit out of the bad guys because they 'changed their plans three times already to lose Red-hood' but yet, somehow, he's waiting for them by the time they arrive to where ever they were meeting up to do their illegal business with a coffee in hand and the police already called and arriving in 5 minutes.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Theo's First Race

Having a child changes Max in a way he never could have predicted.

warnings: none, this is 100% self indulgent fluff. Pairing: max verstappen x podcaster!reader word count: 3.1k words

yourusername posted

459,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, jennythenanny, and others yourusername texas will always hold a special place in my heart. last year, we learned i was pregnant for the fourth time with what we hoped was our miracle baby. this year we get to bring that miracle baby to the track with us for the very first time. my entire heart is so full watching this all come full circle. i cannot wait to show theo how amazing his daddy is when he gets in that car. maxverstappen1 my two favorite people here this weekend. i can already tell this is going to a good race <3 user0198 i cannot handle the amount of dad max content we get. user111 max carrying Theo kangaroo style in a baby carrier??? sobbing rn >>>user0019 SERIOUSLY jennythenanny ah! so excited to be with you guys this weekend!!! >>>yourusername theo is so excited to be back with his bestie! >>>jennythenanny eeeee! cannot wait! >>>user020 why is this the cutest exchange i've ever read

“Maybe we should leave Theo here with Jenny today instead? Max says, concern settling into the corners of his eyes. 

You look over at him, eyebrow raised, from your seat on the floor of the hotel suite. In front of you, five month old Theo is on his tummy staring up at you with his signature gummy little grin. The three of you were in Texas for the US GP, which was supposed to be Theo’s first time in the paddock but apparently, your husband was having second thoughts. 

“What? Why?” You ask, confused. 

Max had checked the weather (multiple times) this morning and had declared that it wasn’t going to be too hot for Theo to be out and about. The sun was out and there was a gentle breeze whispering through the trees outside your hotel room. Max was leading the championship for the first time this season and he was starting on pole. COTA was historically a really good track for him and you were confident in his chances at winning. Plus, COTA meant a lot to you. It was right here in this very hotel that you had found out you were pregnant with the little elf that was babbling up at you right now. 

Max wrings his hands together, casting a worried glance down at his two favorite people in the world. With how dramatic Theo had come into the world so early, Max had found himself being a little extra protective over him. And you for that matter. He had refused to hear any talk about bringing Theo to the track before this weekend and after seeing all of the crowds at the track yesterday for the practice and sprint qualifying, he was having second thoughts 

“There were just so many people and I don’t want him to get lost.” 

You chuckle before reaching forward to take Theo in your arms. Standing up, you cross the room to where Max stands and hand him his son. Max instinctively reaches out, cuddling Theo to his chest. Watching Max become a dad over the last five and a half months had been one of the most rewarding things you’d ever been privileged to witness. He had slipped into the dad role so effortlessly it had surprised Max, probably due to his own childhood and difficult past with his father. You weren’t surprised though. You had known the moment that Theo was born that Max had been born to be a father. It really was that simple. 

“Baby, he can’t walk. He won’t get lost, I promise he’ll never be out of his sling for more than five minutes.”

“No one holds him other than you and Jenny?” 

You blow out a breath, unsurprised at how he’s gone into papa bear mode. You had seen it on his face yesterday during sprint qualifying. He had surveyed the paddock crowds with a deeper than usual frown on his face, making comments whenever he heard an errant cough or someone clear their throat. ‘Cesspool of germs’ was a phrase he used more than once, now that you thought you it. 

“Yes, my love. He will stay in the sling with me and Jenny no matter what. I have his ear defenders here too and we’ll keep to hospitality. But I know he’d love to see where daddy works. You know how much the sound of those engines sooth him.” 

Max pokes a finger into Theo’s chubby cheek, cooing nonsense at him as Theo giggles back. His mind flickered back to one particularly hard night right after you had brought him home from the hospital during the summer break. Theo had been a bit of a colicky baby back then and the hours between 1 and 3 am were often the worst. He would scream and cry for hours, unable to be soothed back to sleep despite all of his needs being met. This night, in particular, was difficult and you had been on hour four of trying to get him to settle. In a desperate attempt to try something, anything that might work, Max had turned on an old race, but just the ambient sounds of one of his wins from YouTube, without any commentators voices. The sounds of the engines revving had instantly calmed Theo down. 

Both you and Max had stood there in your apartment, lights dark with the exception of the glow emanating from the tv in front of you, as Theo had stared unblinkingly at the television, tears still puddled in his little neck folds, but totally quiet and enthralled. 

Max’s eyes dart over to yours and you smile, reaching out a hand to touch his elbow. “I know you’re nervous, baby but Theo will be fine. He’s going to have so much fun, and I know once you get to the paddock with him in your arms, you will too.” 

He sighs, knowing that you’re right. You usually are when it comes to matters involving Theo. “Okay, but first person to cough on him gets banned from the paddock.” 

The Miami sprint race had been your first race all those years ago when Max had swept you off your feet that very first weekend he flew you to him so it seemed fitting that Theo’s first trip to a race was also a sprint race weekend. Max parked the sensible but giant Ford Explorer that he had insisted on driving this weekend in his designated spot before hopping out, telling you not to move. 

You giggle to yourself, amused that even after all this time, Max still insisted that you never touched a door handle while he was with you. Even on hectic days like these, you and Theo were always in the front of his mind. 

When Max opens your door, his hand immediately finds yours as he helps you out of the tall car. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He asks, dropping a kiss onto your forehead before moving to the back seat to get Theo from his carseat. 

“I’m so excited to be back, it feels like it’s been forever.” 

Which was true. After Theo had been born, he had needed to stay in the NICU for quite a while. Max had nearly missed the race in Spain the weekend after Monaco because he had refused to leave your side. In the end, it had been Daniel that had convinced him that missing Spain would be detrimental to his championship hopes. Max trusted Daniel with his life and knew that his friend, someone who he knew had a good head on his shoulders, wouldn’t give him bad advice. He knew what missing a race would mean to everyone on the team and back at the factory. 

He had won the race with a 15 second lead. 

Your credentials hang heavy around your neck as you pull the diaper bag out of the back of the car, Theo already nestled securely in Max’s arms. It always made you chuckle, the way Max always seemed to have Theo. You swore whenever he was around, that baby never touched the floor or his crib. 

The pressure in your chest squeezes as you watch Max tote his little boy towards the paddock entrance. Both you and Max had made a conscious decision to keep Theo’s face out of your social media, with the exception of very carefully curated images that you and Max tightly controlled so this was the first time Theo would be photographed by anyone but you and Max. You knew the fans, both yours and Max’s, wanted to see Theo and you hoped that bringing him into the paddock despite him being so young was well received and a positive experience. 

“Max! Who’ve you got there?” A photographer yells the moment Max scans his badge at the paddock entrance. Several photographers are standing by the gates, waiting on the driver arrivals. Max is dressed in his team kit, of course, and you’ve got your traditional navy blue on, today in the form of a loose maxi dress that would allow you to maneuver while caring for Theo during the race. Even Theo had a Red Bull onesie on with gray shorts pulled on over his chubby little legs. 

“The best team mascot in the paddock.” Max jokes, a smile crinkling at the corner of his eyes as he pauses to show off a now giggling Theo. 

Your heart catches in your chest when you see the look of pure happiness on your husband’s face. There were few things that brought out a smile that bright on Max and the fact that him showing off your baby to the world was one of those things had your heart hammering in your chest. You watched as Max showed Theo off to several of the photographers and Red Bull staff members, seemingly forgetting all about his hesitations from earlier. Theo loved it too, the sights and smells and sounds were so much for him to take in and he was so content to be in his daddy’s arms just taking it all in. 

“Mon petit lion!” A voice rings out as the three of you walk towards Red Bull’s garage. You grin, watching as Charles fusses over Max refusing to give up custody of Theo but eventually relents. “Give me my godson, you heartless man. Keeping the poor little man away from the track for five months! Horrific!” 

“He’s a literal infant, Charles.” Max argues, a full on pout popping out of his full bottom lip. You suddenly have to quell the urge to bite it, he looks so handsome. 

“Your gorgeous wife told me how much he loves the sound of my Ferrari.” Charles argues back, bouncing Theo up and down, eliciting a peal of giggles tumbling from your baby’s lips. 

Max shoots you a glare that has ‘you’re a traitor’ written all over it. All you do is reach up on your toes to peck him on those full lips of his, completely ignoring the annoyed look he still regards you with. 

“It was the sound of my Red Bull that calmed him the first time.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, Max.” Charles chuckles before handing Theo back to you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m so glad you two are here, the paddock ins’t the same without you.”  

“Thank you Charles.” You say, cuddling Theo into your shoulder just a little tighter. 

As the three of you continue on, your final destination being the garage so Max can check on the car, your pace is just a bit quicker than Max’s. He watches you for just a moment, the way Theo’s chubby arms wrap tightly around your neck as he takes in the buzzing activity of the paddock. His heart squeezes fiercely at the way your hips sway back and forth as you carry his baby on your hip. This was how it was always meant to be: his wife and his child at his side while he worked. He had always pictured this day in a way that always seemed like it would come sometime in the future. That was the strange thing about how life progressed. Suddenly, some day is here and you’re watching your wife cuddle your miracle baby. When Max thinks of that afternoon in London all those years ago when he made his way into the recording studio to be on some silly little podcast, he had no idea that this was where that interview would lead but here he was, every single one of the fantasies he had dared to hope for right in front of him. 

You turn back to Max, sensing that he’s fallen quite a bit behind. The look of awe on your husbands face as he watches you has your heart aching. You knew that the past few months had been hard on Max. He hated being away from you, had even tried to float the idea of retiring mid-season. You had flatly refused, saying that everyone in the factory and the garage was counting on him and eventually, he had agreed. But you knew being here was a balm to his lonely heart and you were wildly happy that Theo was finally old enough to accompany Max on this triple header. 

But looking at the way his eyes shined with unshed tears as he stands stock still in the middle of the paddock, just staring after what you know is his entire world, you feel something lock into place. Something that you’re going to have to discuss with him later tonight. 

“Come on, Maxie.” You call as you hoist Theo up higher on your hip. “You’ve got a meeting with Horner and I don’t want him yelling at me because you’re late.” 

Max seems to snap out of the trance he’s in then and chuckles. “Christian is terrified of you, liefje. He’d never yell.” 

You shrug, “I suppose you’re right.” 

Max slips his fingers into yours before giving them a squeeze. “Come on, let’s introduce the little lion to the garage.” 

Max wins the sprint that day, just like the first sprint you watched him win all those years ago. The nostalgia you felt watching him pull up into that first parc ferme spot had something twisting deep in your stomach. It was so satisfying watching Max do what he loved while you held his little boy in your arms. 

It was a whirlwind of media after his win and then he was swept off for race debrief before qualifying for the Grand Prix the next day. By the time Theo’s bedtime rolled around, Max was still busy in engineering meetings. You sent him a quick text telling him you were taking Theo back to the hotel to put him down. Max had wanted to tell you to wait, he’d be right there, but he had known this wasn’t true. He knew that it was going to take several more hours to wrap up all his duties on the track so he reluctantly agreed. 

This was the part of racing he hated. The late nights, the long flights to every corner of the world except to where it mattered most, the danger that lurked on the track. He hated being away from you, had always hated being away from you. Despite his reservations about you quitting your job all before you had gotten pregnant with Theo, he was glad that you had spent those few years traveling with him. It wasn’t about the fact that you ‘followed him around’ like some publications liked to taunt. It was the fact that Max was able to do what he loved while providing for his family and keep you close at the same time. 

But things had shifted when Theo had been born and his priorities had changed. Having you at the track wasn’t an option anymore, not with how little Theo was. And even now, at 5 months old, he knew that this wasn’t sustainable. The options of what to do after this season all played in his head as he got into the car late that night to head back to the hotel. He knew he had a big decision to make, one that had been many years coming. 

It’s dark by the time Max fishes the keycard to the hotel room out of his back pocket. You have a two bedroom suite booked this weekend so he’s not worried about waking Theo, although he still holds out a little hope that he might be awake. It’s been hours since Max has seen him and the only thing worse than being away from you for an extended period of time is being away from both of you. 

The door whispers open and Max spots you laying down on the couch, staring blankly at the tv in front of you. On the coffee table sits the baby monitor and a bottle of wine. 

When you hear the door snick closed, you pick your head up, blinking sleepily towards the door. “You’re home.” You whisper, sitting up so Max can join you on the couch. 

He immediately pulls you into his lap, nuzzling deep into your neck. “I’m home.” He breathes, letting your perfume settle over his senses like a warm, familiar blanket. 

“I’m so proud of you. Sprint win and P3 for tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, schatje. How was your night? How’s the baby?” 

You hum softly, your lips finding Max’s in the dark. They’re warm and inviting and everything that sets your soul on fire. You’re fairly certain that you’ll still feel this way when you’re 90 years old kissing Max late at night. “He’s good. Just finished his last bottle of the night, went down like a champ.” 

“That’s my boy. I’m sorry I missed bedtime tonight.” 

You pull away so you can look at Max’s clear blue eyes. You’re a little surprised to see a bit of sadness sitting in those baby blues you love so much. “It’s okay baby. He did just fine without you.” 

Max frowns before pulling you closer. “And that’s what breaks my heart. I don’t want him to grow up without me.” 

You chuckle, “Oh, Max. He’s not going to grow up without you. If you really want, you can do the middle of the night feeding. He’ll be up in a few hours anyway.” 

Max nods, he usually did those late night feedings anyway. He loved the way the entire world was hushed and asleep. He felt cocooned in the most calming way and those nights where it was just him and Theo were some of his favorite. 

Silence stretches out between you. Your heartbeat matches up with Max’s eventually and your eyes get a little heavy with his warmth pressed up against you. You’d missed this kind of calm presence that Max brought to your life. It was always there, of course, but sometimes it was a little further than you liked during the season. Having him here now was so soothing, making you feel like you could conquer anything that came your way. 

After a few quiet moments, Max’s deep voice finally breaks the silence. 

“I think I’m done after this season, liefje.” 

You’d had this conversation countless times over the years, so much so that the words don't even make your heart race anymore. There’s something different in Max’s voice tonight, though. He sounds tired, worked over, resigned. Like the years spent on the road are finally catching up to him and you know, deep in your chest that it’s time. 

“I know, Max.” You whisper, dropping your forehead to his before brushing a kiss against his nose. “Come home to us. Theo and I are ready to have you all to ourselves now.” 

And that's exactly what happens.

maxverstappen1 posted

5,039,504 likes liked by yourusername, redbullracing, f1, and others maxverstappen1 this sport has been part of my life for most of my time here on earth. i started in karting not long after i started walking. motorsport brought me to the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. 7 championships. the love of my life. my child. this sport has brought me to all of the most important milestones of my life. but all good things must come to an end. i've achieved everything i set out to do all those years ago and my priorities have shifted. at the end of may, i became a father and suddenly that pull to retirement got stronger. @/username knows how many times i threatened to quit mid-season so it wasn't a surprise to her when i came to her after texas and told her it was time. after twelve seasons racing in the pinnacle of motorsport, i'm officially announcing my retirement. to my team, thank you. you have forever shaped who i am. to my wife, i love you. you are all the good things in this world and i am so lucky you chose me to be your husband. to my theo, you changed me in a way no one else has. being your dad is the most important job i've ever had. i can't wait to watch you grow into the person you're destined to become. to my fans, thank you. your devotion means the absolute world to me and i would not have made it to where i am today. thank you, from the bottom of my heart. yourusername theo and i are so so proud of you. welcome home, my love. >>>user9292 *sobbing* charlesleclerc congratulations on a lifetime of acheivments. can't wait to see what you do now, my friend!! lando congrats GOAT. excited to finally not be asked 'how does it feel to lose to max verstappen?' EVER AGAIN >>>charlesleclerc now it'll be 'how does it feel to lose to charles???' >>>lando stfu redbullracing we're not crying, you're crying!!! lewishamilton you will be missed, max. enjoy retirement with that gorgeous family of yours!

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[cherryapplefish]

I am so sad. I want a world for Caleb where nothing bad happens to him.

I want him to be born to loving parents who are best friends with MC’s parents.

When MC is born he’s in awe and auntie and uncle tell him, “She’s like your sister. You have to protect her like an older brother would.”

They grow up together. Caleb sees her every weekend because their parents are always getting together.

When Caleb’s in the second grade, MC is starting kindergarten and he makes sure to protect her from the older kids who like to tease and tug at her pigtails.

In high school, Caleb gets to check in on her. He walks her to classes, tutors her in the subjects she’s struggling with, and they join the same clubs because they’re so alike it’s almost ridiculous.

And in college they fall in love. Except maybe that’s silly because Caleb’s always loved MC. There’s never been a question of if maybe just how much.

He loves her like she’s his soul. He loves her like she’s the sun. He loves her like he’s the earth, pulled in by her gravity, given life by her light.

He loves her on soft days, when the summer sun beats down on them and yet she’s still pressed into his side reading some book.

He loves her on hard days, when rain beats down against the roof, thunder roaring over the sounds of her sobs. Her tears fall faster than the water drops outside and he presses her face into his neck, whispers, “You’re good enough. I promise you are. You’re perfect.”

He loves her because all he’s ever known is love and all he’s ever seen her as is love.

[sunny-sourzii]

So. That new update, ay? 🚶‍♂️