Latest Posts by alex-wotton - Page 2

reblog if your inbox is always open for new members of the fandom who may be a little shy or intimidated. doesn’t matter whether or not you’re a “popular blog”; everyone here is equal and if you’re reading this as a new person/someone considering entering the fandom, we will not turn you away!!!! talk to us!! make friends!! i more than understand being shy but trust me this fandom is chill come join us in this hellhole

this blog hates donald trump

Reblog if its ok to spam you with boops

I don't want, I need more Susie fics

What's Better Than One Woman In Motorsports?

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Pairing: Susie Wolff x F1 Academy!reader

Warnings: Teensy bit suggestive at one point, one comment that has implied homophobia/sexism but it's quickly sorted out.

Notes: Haven't written in aaaages and I haven't written wlw before but I hope this is alright. It's based on this request and I really hope I did it some justice.

Summary: Women in many fields are accused of romancing their bosses to climb the ranks yet no one seems to suspect you and your boss... Well because you're both women. Which gives you the perfect opportunity to sneak around of course!

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You grin, the adrenaline from winning the race still not having worn off. You feel yet another pat on the back from your team; you worked extremely hard for this race. Abbie certainly put up a fight but with an overake that many were calling a "stroke of genius", you managed to take the lead and pass the checkered flag first. You skip towards the post race interviews and beam at the interviewer.

As the interviewer starts talking You, you glance behind them only to meet Susie's eyes. You look doen at the intensity of her gaze, you can feel her pride without her having to mutter a word. The interviewer asks a few bog standard questions and you awnser them all with a wide grin, thanking your team in the mean time. You're shortly ushered onto the podium where you see Suzie again.

You stand tall and wait for the awards to be given bit may or may not space out as Maya and Abbi are given their trophies. However, the sight of a familiar pair of eyes easily forces you back into consciousness. Susie gives you a wide grin that quickly turns into a smirk as you lower your head slightly to allow her to place the medal around your neck. Her hands linger a moment longer and you feel both your cheeks and the spot where her hands once lay grow slightly warmer.

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One of the advantages of working in F1 Academy was that you were under far less of a watchful eye than any F1 driver. And despite the fact that you'd love nothing more than to drive in F1, you couldn't complain when you manage to get away with things like this.

The sight of your girlfriend (and practically boss if you want to get into the logistics of things) greets you. Susie's back is turned to you but the smell is enough to tell you exactly what she's doing this early in the morning. You weave your arms around her waist and lean into her warmth.

"Morning." You can hear the smile in her voice and you give a small hum back, still with your face tucked into the back of her old Williams shirt. Susie shuffles slightly and turns around, wrapping you in a hug. "How did you sleep." You look up into her eyes and smile, "Quite well thank you. What about you?" Susie smiles and gives a similar awnser before breaking the brief picture of domesticity and pulling away to serve up some food for you.

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After a lovely breakfast and a long talk about the F1 season (the two of you have a no work talk rule but considering that neither of you work in F1, you can chatter all you want about about the 'crown of motorsports'), you both head into your bedroom to get changed.

"I saw this really nice beach nearby and wondered if you wanted to try it out?" You see Susie's look of contemplation at your words. Despite the fact that the two of you ought to keep a low profile and be miles apart in public, the sound of the two of you lounging round in the soft sun doesn't sound all too bad. "Where is it?" You rummage around in a drawer for your swimsuit. "About a twenty minute drive I think." You see the conflicted look in Susie's eyes and slowly walk up to her.

You take her hands in yours and put on your most persuasive face possible. "Please? It'll be fun and the moment we see anyone we can go." Susie makes a thoughtful noise and you begin to attach onto her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses up and down her jugular. "Fine. But we have to keep an eye out." You grin and swiftly wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you! This is going to be so fun." Susie just rolls her eyes at your far too happy reaction but smiles a bit at both your happiness but also the thought of the two of you getting to spend more time together in such a public-leaning setting.

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You wake up to the unfamiliar sensation of chilliness. You hear the distant mumbles of Susie's soft voice that finally string together as you become more awake. You try and open your eyes but are met by the harsh sun, outside of the window and so yoir eyes flitter closed again. The bed shifts beside you and you croak out a question to your girlfriend now lying her head on your shoulder. "What was that about?"

She rubs shapes into your side with her hand and pauses for a moment. "Well... let's just say you're in a shock when you check twitter later." Yoh go yo sit up and shoot the older woman a confused glance only for her to push you down gently. "That's not for now. Just rest for a bit longer." And who are you to ignore your gorgeous girlfriend when she all but forces you to stay in bed, cosied up to her for longer?

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Yourusername

Yourusername: Through people being conniving and myself not ever having enough 'juicy gossip', recently some have believed that they can be invasive and pry into my personal life. My love life and my life in general is not a topic for a news source or the subject of a photo, crafted without mine or my partner's consent. It is instead an invasion of something I hold so dearly to me and a show of awful character of others.

Despite what many may tell you, my relationship is neither wrong or inappropriate. The correct people are aware of it (and said there was no issue from the get go), and both my girlfriend and myself hold professionalism to the highest standard - and would never let anything interfere eith our jobs. I love Susie but I would do anything for my job, including of course following every rule to a T. I don't appreciate the speculation many of you have begun to create and I think some may need to take a step back and realise the negative impact of your words on not only the people in the sport, but also on yourselves.

I love Susie. I'm not embarrassed about it but I am sorry that the many of you only recieved conformation from someone that thought their judgement about our relationship was better than our own.

Liked by f1academy susiewolff and 1,675,067 others

This user has restricted comments

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

(I'm not sure who to tag and sorry, this is probably not your thing)

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

Well, people have talked, I'll probably post the first idea this week. I'll post an introduction later.

I'm thinking about starting to post fanfic ideas that occur to me, just uploading the concepts with some details or plot lines.

i think part of the gut punch about daniel leaving is the combination of him giving so much of himself to the sport and fans (through dts and being so open etc) and getting so little back from it (not even getting the decency or grace of an announcement prior to his last race so he could do doughnuts or celebrate, instead we got him crying in an interview as he was ruthlessly ribbed about it for headlines and him being unable to say goodbye to and get a genuine appreciation & send off from fans). anyway, fuck red bull for that 👍

I get that Formula 1 is a competition. I get that business can be cruel. But, in the words of Susie Wolff:

It seems like some (cough) teams have forgotten what it means to have empathy and compassion lately. Because there is, in fact, a way to move on from drivers without seeming callous and ungrateful … if teams would actually care enough to use it.

I honestly don't know how to express everything I'm going through right now.

I remember being about 6 years old and seeing that boy with messy curls and a catchy smile, how even through a screen he transmitted his love for the sport to me. Now at 20 years old seeing him leave feels too much.

I'm going to miss him so much. I hope you have many more adventures and enjoy the butterflies.

Thank you very much Daniel.

It’s weird.

I’ve been a Formula 1 fan for most of my life, I’ve seen drivers come and go, I cried when Sebastian Vettel retired.

But this hits particularly hard.

I remember watching Daniel Ricciardo’s first race. I was nine, and I remember thinking about how young he looked. I remember him winning with Red Bull. I remember his smile. I remember his shoeys. I remember Monaco 2018 and how, despite not being a Red Bull fan, I teared up as Daniel got redemption. I remember the rollercoaster that followed his leaving. I remember his return last year. I remember him breaking his wrist to protect Oscar Piastri while crashing. I remember the grins and laughter. I remember to enjoy the butterflies.

This one hurts.

Thank you, Honey Badger 🦡

I'm thinking about starting to post fanfic ideas that occur to me, just uploading the concepts with some details or plot lines.

A piece about survivors guilt.

This comic isn't perfect. I started it back in October 2023, and every time I picked up my pen, I wept.

I bring this to you today, on 9/11, in hopes that you reflect on this day a little differently than how most Americans would. Let it move you to continue to boycott, protest and challenge your family, friends and colleagues. You have a bigger impact than you would believe.

Thank you for reading this with an open heart.

From the river to the sea...

I'd like to bring to attention the fact that the figures depicted above are a gross undercount of the actual number of deaths. I scoured the internet high and low to source my findings and not a single one could break down the devastation that befell an individual ethnicity. Instead, they lumped a bunch of ethnicities together, provided a general timeline, and called it a day, reinforcing the sheer scale of dehumanization propagated in the west. The only consistency between all the articles I looked up was the 4.5 to 4.7 million figure I've included above, and even then, they were all published by western media news outlets... the very same that have been so unreliable and complicit in the genocide of Palestinians today. So I have to take everything they say with a grain of salt.

We are not just numbers.

All of us have ambitions and desires and lives worth living.

With that said, this is your friendly reminder to:

Donate an e-sim

Donate to PCRF to provide Palestinian children aid

Donate to Pious Projects to provide woman with feminine hygiene kits

Donate to CareForGaza to provide food to displaced families in Gaza either through their Gofundme or their paypal

Donate to any of the vetted gofundme campaigns on GazaFunds to help Palestinians trying to flee Gaza.

And if you or someone you know sees or experiences a hate crime and can afford it, SUE. This is a more effective use of your money than most realise. The reason zionists act with impunity is because of the normalization of white supremacy and oppression of ethnic minorities. Challenging that in any capacity tells them that there are consequences to their actions and makes them think twice before engaging in hate crimes and helps raise all of us up against the systems currently in place that let them get away with it.

If you can't donate or spend any money, you can:

Do your daily clicks.

Boycott targeted companies on the BDS list (if you're like me and you don't want a single dollar to go towards anything supporting Israel right now, you can use Bdnaash to double check what products are okay to buy, but the BDS list is sufficient as it is a strategic attack and proven very effective thus far)

Flood your representatives emails and voicemails with how you won't be voting for them unless their politics align with an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.

Attend a protest, be LOUD.

Challenge your circle of friends, family and colleagues with conversations about Palestine. (THIS IS THE MOST UNDERRATED AND MOST EFFECTIVE THING YOU CAN DO)

and if you're really up to, be disruptive in any capacity that you can think of towards major corporations benefiting from this onslaught. (i.e. halting military manufacturers from production + shipments, sticking boycott stickers on products at your market etc)

And finally, if your country wasn't mentioned in the above excerpt, it was no deliberate omission on my part and I encourage you to come forward and tell your story about the suffering of your people so that this may be a learning opportunity for everyone.

You are seen.

You are not alone.

Thank you again if you've read this far.

From the river to the sea...

Tengo 2 preguntas:

¿Qué tan rápido podes responder las preguntas en el Eva?

¿Qué estudias que te permite responder tan rápido?

no comments now pookie??

They weren't even children's books, they were a collection of books about the great civilizations of history.  

Jesús, Maria y Jose, someone open the window because it's hot here

Champ, Sport, Buddy | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You decide to try out a few new nicknames on your husband. He's quick to remind you that there is a short list of names that are acceptable.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Based on an ask. Beautiful banner by @mak-32

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds crazy, but I had the best sex of my life the other night. It actually worked."

You were leaning up against the bar at the Hard Deck on Friday night, waiting for Penny to hand you two of your favorite beers, and you couldn't help but overhear the women next to you chatting.

"What exactly did you do?" the brunette asked the redhead. 

The redhead grinned and said, "I called my husband 'Buddy' a few times, and he got annoyed at first, but then he fucked the absolute shit out of me."

"I can't believe it worked!" the brunette replied. 

You looked over to where Bradley was throwing darts, losing abysmally to Hangman. Your husband looked hot. He always looked hot. He was always good in bed, too. But you were curious.

"Excuse me," you said as you turned toward the two women. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear. You called your husband 'Buddy' which led to amazing sex?"

"Yes!" gushed the redhead again. "Are you married? Dating someone?"

"I'm married," you told her, glancing again at Bradley as he raked his finger through his hair. He turned and caught your eye, winking across the room. 

"Listen, I'm sure you love your husband, but the male ego is fragile and can only handle so much."

You snorted and shrugged. "Makes sense."

"So all you have to do is play into his insecurities a tiny bit. Make him feel like you've pushed him into the friend zone until he snaps a little. He'll be dying to show you that he's not your 'Buddy', he's your lover."

You pondered that for a moment as you picked up your beers. "Thanks," you told both women. "I'll give it a try."

"Good luck!" they called after you as you took both beers back to the dartboard.

"What took you so long?" Bradley rasped as you handed him one of the bottles. "I missed you."

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you kissed his scarred cheek. "I was just across the room."

He was looking at you like he was almost ready to take you home. "Across the room? That's too far, Baby Girl. I like it when you're right next to me. Where you belong." 

"Right here?" you asked, rubbing yourself against his side. 

"Yeah," he whispered. "Right there."

"The two of you are absolutely disgusting these days," Nat informed you as you kissed Bradley and tangled your fingers up in his hair. "I don't know who let you get married, but this has become distressing." She was smiling at both of you as Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist. 

"We'll just head out then," he told his friend, handing her the bottles of beer you just got. "Have a great night."

Then he scooped you up and carried you outside to the Bronco as you squealed. "You wanna do this here or at home, Baby Girl?" he murmured next to your ear as you clung to him and giggled. 

"Are you serious?"

He sucked on your neck while he unlocked the Bronco, and you ended up having sex on the backseat. You kept your bodies down low, and Bradley had one big palm planted over your mouth. When you looked up at him as you licked his hand, he groaned. 

"Baby Girl. Fuck, Sweetheart. You feel so perfect."

The sex was very good. It was always good. You liked the rush of knowing you could get caught. And when you came on his cock, Bradley filled you with his cum before quickly zipping up his jeans. He looked around, and then helped you climb into the front seat. Once you and he were both buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot to the sound of you and he erupting into laughter. 

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But the next day, you were still thinking about those two women from the bar. You wondered if it would work. Because if Bradley was leaving you satisfied nearly every single time, what would the next level be like? Getting him a little extra wound up was always fun for you. You shivered a bit as you thought about it while you made lunch. 

You glanced out the window to where he was pulling weeds in just some gym shorts, occasionally pausing to throw a tennis ball for Tramp. He looked sweaty and delicious, and you knew that he would walk back inside soon, ready for lunch and expecting you to take him to bed. Because he was irresistible to you like this, and he knew it. 

So you made him a grilled cheese sandwich with a little side of carrot sticks, and you waited. When you heard the sliding glass door open and the sound of his shoes on the floor, you took a deep breath to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape. 

"Hey, Baby Girl," he grunted from the doorway. 

"Hey, Buddy. Can you get the hot sauce off the dining room table for me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder, trying your best not to laugh. His brow was furrowed as he leaned against the wall with his forearm, sweaty and shirtless.

"Buddy?" he muttered under his breath before turning back to the dining room. You bit your lip hard, trying to get composure as he brought you the bottle and set it on the counter right next to your cutting board. He was very much in your personal space, palm planted on the edge of the counter, waiting for you to look at him. When you glanced up, he asked, "Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart?"

"Nope," you replied, shaking your head slightly. 

"Right," he whispered, taking his plate of lunch when you handed it to him. "Right." You watched Bradley wander into the dining room, and you followed him, pulling out a chair for yourself instead of sitting on his lap. 

After you ate quietly for a few minutes, he set his sandwich down. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean, Champ?" you asked, taking a sip of lemonade to hide your smile as his eyes went wide.

"Champ? Baby Girl, are you mad at me?"

"No," you told him, finishing your sandwich as quickly as you could and standing up. 

He was immediately on your tail as you took your plate to the kitchen sink. "I don't want you to be upset with me," he said, caging you in at the sink. "Tell me what I did wrong." He looked a little worried as you shrugged. 

"I'm not upset," you promised. He leaned in and kissed you. It started out sweet, and slowly but surely it progressed to some tongue and his body pressing against yours. He was warm and sweaty, and you wanted more. But you broke the kiss, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "I need to go get the mail, Sport."

"S-Sport?" he stuttered, following you for a few steps until he was standing in the middle of the living room with his hands planted on his hips. He looked like a confused puppy as you glanced back when you closed the front door, and then you laughed all the way to the mailbox.

"I called him Sport," you said, cackling to yourself as you emptied all the junk mail and bills out of the mailbox. You took the time to make your face neutral again as you walked back into the house, only to find that Bradley hadn't moved at all.

You were sorting the mail in your hands when he closed the distance to you. Apprehension was flowing off of him in waves. "What the hell did I do?" he rasped, and you looked up at him. 

"I already told you, Buddy. Nothing."

He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "So, I'm not doing enough? Are we- are we getting divorced or something, Sweetheart?"

You had to try so hard not to touch him or laugh. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're calling me Buddy! And Sport!"

You bit your lip and shrugged again, taking in his muscular form and shocked expression. "I'm just trying out some new nicknames."

"New nicknames? The fuck? You never call me those things!"

"I just thought I might start calling you things that I would call a friend."

He took a staggering step away from you before gesturing to himself with both hands. "A friend? Do I look like your friend? I am not your friend."

"I thought you said you were my best friend, Champ," you whispered, trying to hold it together as the flushed color on his cheeks grew darker. 

"Of course you're my best friend, Baby Girl!"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Then I don't see the problem?"

His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he closed the distance to you and grabbed you a little rough. "You don't see the problem, huh? You ride your friends' dicks like you ride mine? You moan for your friends when you're a horny mess?"

His hands were on your hips as he held you against his semi hard cock. "Well, no-" you gasped.

"No. You don't. I'm your husband. I'm not your friend."

You bit your lip and then whispered, "Okay, Buddy."

And then he snapped. His lips were on yours in the roughest kiss. You had to grab for his shoulders so you didn't trip as he pushed you back against the bannister. His body was heavy against yours as the wood dug into your back. "That's enough," he growled. "There are four names you call me, and Buddy isn't one of them. Neither is Champ. Neither is Sport."

"Four names?" you asked softly, moaning as he sucked on your neck until you squealed. And then he wedged his thigh between your legs, and you whined, "Roo!"

"Yeah, Baby Girl," he whispered against your neck as he started yanking your shirt up. "That's one of them. Keep going."

You looked up at him as he peeled your shirt off and unclasped your bra. When you started to ride his thigh, he brought his hands up to your nipples, stroking softly at first. Then he was dipping his head down and brushing you with his mustache until you cried out, "Bradley!"

"Yeah, I'm your Bradley. Keep going, Sweetheart," he commanded before sucking your nipple into his mouth and unzipping your denim shorts. You were whining so loudly as he ran his tongue in lazy circles and looked up at you. Then he kissed his way down to your rooster tattoo as your shorts and underwear slid down your legs. 

He licked your tattoo before turning his attention to your pussy. When he guided one thigh up over his bare shoulder, you met his eyes and whispered, "Daddy."

Your husband groaned, dragging his tongue and mustache through your wet slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. "Daddy!" you screamed, digging your fingers into his hair and scalp to keep yourself upright. The wood against your back was painful where every other part of my body was drowning in pleasure as Bradley ate your pussy. 

"Say it again," he demanded before licking from your opening to your clit over and over while you told him he was your Daddy. "I'm your Daddy," he growled, getting to his feet and scooping you up as well. You were whimpering as he carried you to the steps and set you down on your hands and knees. You could feel the warmth of his body behind you and over you as he gently kissed along your bare back until you were practically in tears, needing more. 

When you wiggled your butt back against his shorts, you could feel him pull his cock free. "You're forgetting one name," he rasped, dragging his tip through your wetness before resting himself right at your opening with a little pressure. Then one big hand wrapped around to your clit and the other found your breasts as he said, "I'll help you remember it."

And then he fucked you, so hard and so good, filling you with each fluid snap of his hips. He bottomed out until you were rocking forward against your hands braced on the steps. 

"Oh god, Roo!" you screamed. He was so rough and yet so fucking sweet when his lips met the back of your neck. 

Then he filled you all the way and stayed there, pushing a little harder still as he wrapped his hand around your hair and pulled. "Fuck!" you screamed as your back arched, pressing him to your g-spot until you were panting and ready to beg. "Please!"

He licked your neck and rasped, "I'm not Buddy. I'm Roo. Got it?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he whispered as you whined, stroking his fingers along your clit and yanking on your hair. "But you're forgetting one name."

He started fucking you again in earnest, fingers tapping your clit until you were babbling nonsense. The slap of his thighs against the backs of yours was mesmerizing as he hit every spot just right. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. You're my good girl. So smart," he grunted. "You know what to call me when I'm in charge. You know what to call me right now. You pinned it on my chest."

You were keening as you felt that first delicious clench around his cock, but when you didn't answer him, he eased his fingers away from your clit. "No!" you gasped.

"Say it," he growled, thrusting a little harder. "Fucking say it."

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Then his fingers were right there, and your pussy was clenching as you moaned every variation of his name as you came. But he kept it going, almost to the point of over stimulation, extending your orgasm until your eyes were filled with tears. His fingers were still stroking you as your legs shook, and then finally he was groaning your given name and grabbing your hips as he fucked you until he came in your pussy. 

He collected you in his arms, pulling you up so your back was against his sweaty chest, and he kissed your shoulder. You leaned back as you caught your breath, and he pressed his lips to your ear. "I never want to hear any of that shit again. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," you told him with a smile playing on your lips. "Never again."

He kissed you and stroked his hands all over your body. It worked. The women from the bar were right. That was absolutely next level. 

Then Bradley pulled his cock from your pussy as you whined, and he slapped your ass. "Okay, Sport. Let's get a move on. We've got chores to do." You looked back at his smug expression as he pulled his shorts up. "You coming, Champ?"

"Bradley," you groaned, glaring at him. 

You managed to stand on your shaky legs and chase after him, but he scooped you up. "I got ya, Buddy," he whispered with a grin, and you smothered him with kisses until he couldn't talk.

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Please, I need someone to try this tiktok on their significant other! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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“my child is fine” your child wants to marry multiple fictional characters