#I always tag both. well apparently not always

[megamagimugi]

A Brother's Comfort

This is me trying my hand at the good old post-nightmare comfort trope. And an excuse to draw Mario giving Luigi a brotherly kiss on the head - just to get used to more open displays of platonic affection. (Let me reiterate: "brotherly"; "platonic". Do not tag as a ship!)

Fun fact: their pajamas are based on my own two sets that I have in red and in green. I think they are very Mario and Luigi coded, though believe it or not, it's not why I bought them. Red and green just happen to be my favorite colors so I wanted both. And later I thought it might be fun to draw these two wearing them someday. And that day is today, apparently. I always thought it'd be a much happier and more chill piece than this, but oh well. (I never even planned to make this; I just needed to vent my emotions and whoops, this happened).

Oh, and their bedroom is based on the one shown in Superstar Saga 3DS remake.

[tinytalkingtina]

Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Read the rest on Ao3!

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

[artemispt]

I posted 6,975 times in 2022

That's 6,590 more posts than 2021!

775 posts created (11%)

6,200 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@someone-worth-racing-for

@interlagosed

@palalabu

@a-little-awol-jennifernonuts

@the-toasted-teacake

I tagged 6,723 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#carlos sainz - 4,412 posts

#carlos sainz jr - 4,263 posts

#carlando - 1,942 posts

#lando norris - 1,718 posts

#carlos sainz junior - 809 posts

#charles leclerc - 529 posts

#f1 art - 260 posts

#singapore gp 2022 - 230 posts

#abu dhabi gp 2022 - 229 posts

#great britain 2022 - 227 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#‘and how carlos is looking into the camera but doesn't look uncomfortable or self conscious in anyway but v relaxed and happy’ -> yeees 😭

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Wait, WAIT! Carlos carried his speech (EVERYWHERE) in a folder. Neatly in a folder. Not folded up in his pocket, but IN A FOLDER. UGH, I LOVE HIM!

See the full post

498 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

#4

Carlos: “Lando, you need to come home” (not “my home”)

A couple of seconds later:

Lando: “Just send me your address” (like you don’t know…)

Source

579 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#3

Carlos:

See the full post

602 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

#2

See the full post

652 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It isn’t only me then!

813 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sharing is Caring!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[iiboronii]

I see a fictional businessman and fold soooooo fast

[cereal-abyss-mage]

i'm learning russian and french at the same time and I swear to god if I accidentally find a random cyrillic letter in the middle of a word writen in latin alphabet one more time or accidentally mix languages mid sentence, I will yell

or sometimes I find that when I'm writing a translation of a word in russian that sounds similar in polish I just write the russian word again but in latin alphabet for some reason

or I can somehow remember all of my miniscule spanish when I'm trying to learn french even though I literally don't remember a word in spanish otherwise

my language module is broken at this point, if you ever find my notes and there is something like boнjour, just ignore it, I literally don't pick up on it when I'm making and rereading my notes

[deus-ex-mona]

w h y did the preview have to drop now of all times?

[delta-piscium]

cute aggression but it’s like ‘I’m so deeply annoyed about how attractive I find this and I need to bite something about it’

[kajiimotojiiro]

Ugh

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[wonryllis]

the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. est around 20k or more

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag

park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.

"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.

"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.

on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.

"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.

FIRST TAGLIST (open.) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz

[nereidprinc3ss]

make me late

in which spencer finds a few minutes to spare with fem!reader in the morning

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering (here we go again), 'slutty' is used to describe an action but not by spencer, spencer slaps r's ass one (1) time, (hot), mild overstimulation a/n: apparently need to post at least one fingering fic per week or i'll fucking die. very short and sweet but as always let me know if you like it, i have a crush on all of you!

You’re used to Spencer’s alarm going off early in the morning—typically you tune it out or sleep right through it. Today, however, it rouses you more than usual. You roll over, blinking your eyes open. 

“Sorry,” Spencer mutters, finally turning it off and leaning over to kiss your head. “Go back to sleep, angel.”

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him down again when he tries to get out of bed.

“Don’t go,” you beg into his shirt, slinging a leg over him. His hand slips under your (also his) shirt, rubbing the bare skin of your back.

“I have to. You know that.” 

“I just want you to stay for a little bit,” you insist. 

“No you don’t,” he drawls, voice still gravelly with sleep, “You want to make me late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, burying your face further into his shirt as if you could extinguish the heat in your cheeks. 

His hand drops from your back to reach under your thigh, pushing your underwear to the side. You gasp when his fingers make contact with your soaked core, involuntarily pressing your hips closer. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Stop it! That’s not fair!” You squeal, attempting to wriggle away once you regain your senses. But the bastard wraps his arm around your waist like a vice, forcing you to stay in place as he sinks a finger into you with no preamble. Instead of satisfying him with a vocal response, you keep your face hidden in the crook of his shoulder and remain obstinately silent. When he begins to slowly pump his finger, you’re forced to bite the fabric of his shirt to shut yourself up. 

“If you’re not enjoying yourself, I’ll stop,” he says plainly, but obviously he knows that’s the last thing you want. His ring finger joins the other and your mouth falls open, a tiny, choked breath against his skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

Don’t give in, you say to yourself. Wait. What are you not giving in to? Fuck, that feels good. You hum quietly—an excellent display of self-control considering the noises you’re actively holding back. 

“Are we already getting whiny?”

“‘m not whining,” you bite. 

“You’re always whining.” There’s nothing to do but prove him right when he begins massaging that spot inside you with a practiced stroke of his fingers—the one that makes you arch your back further and spread your legs a little wider—makes you oh-so compliant and all together, a bit slutty. But Spencer has told you that by definition, you’re not a slut if it’s just him who you lose all self-respect around. “My pretty girl feels so good, huh?”

You agree with a mindless mumble, forgetting that you were ever going to try and fight the pleasure. 

“It feels so good.”

“I can tell, baby. Listen to the mess you're making.”

Soft, wet sounds emanate from where you’re probably dripping around his fingers. A moan is muffled by his shoulder as your own fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt and sink into the flesh of his waist—though you doubt he minds. 

“Please don’t stop, please please please—" It’s quiet, almost demure as you plead. 

“You’re so sweet when you get like this,” Spencer coos. “I wish you were always so well-behaved.”

No, he doesn’t. Both of you know he loves fucking the attitude out of you, and at times, back into you. But you’re not in any place to correct him right now, as his fingers slip in and out of you so quickly, exactly where you want to be touched. 

“Oh, right—right there, that’s—oh, god,” you squeak. 

Your face is still nuzzled in his shirt, your voice is still so delicate and weak with sleep, rising in pitch with your pleasure until it breaks. 

“Right here? This is where you need it?”

“Yes,” you practically cry, “I’m gonna come, Spence—” your hips rock back and forth to meet each stroke of his fingers inside you, vision going white with with pleasure. 

“Yeah? My pretty girl is gonna come all over my fingers?”

“Mhm!” You speed up the motion of your hips. He chuckles, which might offend you if you were in your right mind, but it’s early, and you’re tired, and your soul is trying to untether itself from your body. 

“Let me feel it, baby. I wanna feel you coming, can you do that for me?”

A breathy keen rushes from your throat as your orgasm begins to suck you out to sea like a riptide, flooding your lungs and blood and everything with so much easy pleasure you’re barely awake and you don’t care one bit. 

“Uh-huh, good girl,” Spencer murmurs, not letting up with his fingers as you fall through your orgasm. Another choked moan takes you by surprise when his free hand falls with a heavy clap to your ass, before rubbing the stinging flesh. “Let go a little bit longer, baby, I’m right here.”

You’re barely breathing, still seeing stars as he continues to fuck you leisurely with his fingers, more out of pure affection than anything else. Eventually he slips them out, teasing gently over your clit as your stomach tenses. But you let him keep going. You’ll do anything to keep him in bed for a few minutes longer. To that end, you gather enough breath to speak. 

“Can you please fuck me?” 

He hums pityingly, moving his hand from between your legs to lovingly soothe the tender skin he’d slapped just a moment ago. 

“You know I can’t, baby. I shouldn’t have even done this. I really have to get a move on.”

“But you did do this,” you say, eager to point out the fallacies in his argument, “which means you could also have sex with me and we could be really fast and you could just take less time getting ready for work.”

Your chin is now resting on his shoulder as you look up at him with wide, imploring eyes, and he leans down to kiss your nose. 

“The answer is going to stay no, sweet thing. I don’t care how much you beg.”

He’s already gently sliding you off of him and getting out of bed as you pout. A few moments pass, and you can’t think of a good retort as he moves about the room, gathering a towel for his shower and digging through the dresser. 

“You’re mean.”

“Aw, poor baby. You only got to come once. Nobody has ever had a harder life than you.” Spencer dodges the pillow you throw and laughs, coming back to lean over the bed as you glower at him. “I’m sorry I woke you up. If you can’t fall back asleep in the time it takes me to shower, I’ll make you fancy coffee.”

“Fine.”

“And I’ll be extra nice to you when I get home.” He kisses your head and then your lips, and then disappears into the bathroom. 

In a completely predictable turn of events, you’re dead to the world by the time he gets out of the shower. He makes you the fancy coffee anyway, leaving it in a thermos on your nightstand. 

He’s late to work. He can't pretend to be sorry.

[cjgladback]

My mom requested fridge art from her daughters. And I'd already sketched one siren a bit after first seeing that one post, but that composition definitely will require the layers afforded by digital painting. So behold! A fire engine and its siren. Not too shabby for both my yellow and red markers giving up the ghost while I wasn't paying attention the last few years.

(This is the first time I've really seen how Tumblr size compression can murder a gif, but it wasn't at all helpful at the 540px width so click for quality.)

I did color in the wipers I'd forgotten and make the emblem on the door slightly more legible while editing my phone pic.

Image descriptions under the cut:

[ID: First image is a colorful drawing of a fire engine seen in three-quarters profile, driving toward camera left. On the roof of the truck's cab is a rough rock formation with a large mermaid lying on it, her tail draped down between the cab and trailer of the truck, her left arm pressing against the rocks, and her head held high while she speaks into a megaphone in her right hand. Her hair streams behind her toward a spiky word bubble with a zigzagged electronic tail that reads, "Get out th'way!" in all-caps. The headlights and amber light bar above the truck windshield are all on and the pavement and traffic lines below are represented with horizontal slashes of marker. The drawing is inked with even, thin black lines (a micron pen size 02) and colored with varied hatching with non-blending markers. On close inspection, the emblem on the fire engine's door reads "escucha las sirenas" in all-caps, Spanish for both "listen to the sirens" and "listen to the mermaids."

Second image is a gif of phone camera pictures showing six stages of the fire engine siren process and the final digital edit. First pencil sketch; second all but the lettering inked; third all but the lettering pencil marks erased; fourth inked word bubble with more emphatic italicized lettering; fifth the beginning layers of marker where the artist took a break with some yellow-orange, light red-orange, light blue, and periwinkle mostly over the truck cab; sixth the fully colored phone picture; and finally the edited shot with the white of the page and vibrancy of the colors restored as well as a coloring in the space around the door emblem with a brighter red for readable contrast. End ID]

[chrisevansonly]

DNF For Love

lando norris x reader

summary: you can’t believe your eyes, and lando can’t believe his ears

warnings: none, fluff, lando being lando

a/n: this is chaos and idk what i was doing with this 😭

Every now and then someone tagged you in a link on twitter and every so often your curiosity peaked and you indulged in whatever the fan had tagged you in. Most recently, you’d been loving the fan fiction links being sent your way, especially if they were written about your boyfriend Lando.

“Lan I cannot believe you right now.”

Now that tone of voice had Lando freezing from his spot in the bathroom, cleaning up his facial hair a little before he took off for Bahrain.

“Um…i’m sorry?”

“I just I can’t even look at you!”

Lando was quick to rinse his face off before walking over towards you and sitting in front of you. His eyes a little bit worried as he stared at you.

“What? I took the trash out, i cleaned up my facial hair out of the sink…there’s no socks on the floor!”

It was only a few seconds later that you sighed dramatically

“Well in this little story here apparently you dnf’d a race for the reader…you never do that for me!”

Lando looked at you like you grew four heads, his jaw dropping open as it clicked to him that once again you were reading fan fiction about him.

“Oh jesus christ-woman give me that!”

Finally letting yourself laugh you passed your phone to him and watched as his eyes scanned the writing, before he shook his head.

“Yeah because i’m giving up leading a race to dnf because my so called “girlfriend” is missing, mhm yeah because that makes sense”

“You wouldn’t even dnf for me?!”

Your laughter never ceased as he looked at you with almost a disgust, the idea not even fathomable for him, and even you knew it was so stupid.

“Baby, I love you, but I wouldn’t even dnf for my nan…and I love my nan a lot..”

You nodded shrugging as he passed your phone back, shutting it off you sat forward to kiss his forehead, easing the wrinkles that remained from his sheer distaste for what he just read.

“You heard it here folks, Lando Norris wouldn’t even dnf for love!”

“Okay that’s it”

There wasn’t much room to say anything because Lando had you pinned underneath him against the mattress as you laughed once again, a smirk on his face as he stared down at you.

“Here’s a deal, if i’m ever dead last in a shit car, i’ll dnf for you”

“So never?”

“Exactly”

Watching you carefully you shrugged

“I’ll take what I can get”

Happy with your response he leaned down to connect your lips together, the fanfic long gone out of your minds as you held one another tightly, Lando’s kisses always working to have you melt into a puddle. When you both pulled away you smiled admiring his face a little more than usual knowing you’d be without one another for a week until you went out to meet him at the first grand prix.

Lando’s new rule, no fan fiction at the track.

[lnlightning81]

Dyslexic Fails [LN4]

Summary : The three times dyslexia failed you and Lando

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count : 0.8k

Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Tag List

You and Lando had been friends for years but only started dating over the past years. What started off as an easy relationship as friends turned into something harder when you both realised you were dyslexic and struggled to spell, and neither of you could help the other. 

Lando was in his little office area and you were in yours working on a photo that you needed edited for a customer sooner rather than later but you had become distracted by a instagram post of a friend who’d posted the announcement of their child's birth. 

You had sat there for ages trying to spell the same word repeatedly however no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t spell it and speech to text wasn’t working with your accent no matter how posh you attempted to make yourself sound so you had to go for the fourth best thing after retrying, autocorrect and speech to text. Lando. 

Walking through to his office, still attempting to spell that stupid word. You quietly knocked on the door before pushing it open as Lando looked over with a smile. 

“What’s wrong? Not working?” He asked gently as he pushed the microphone away from his face

“I can’t spell it” you mumbled, holding your phone out for him. Lando took a look at the message before looking back up at you 

“What are you trying to spell, darling?” He asked, turning around in his chair to face you fully

“Beautiful” you replied, tilting your head as you watched him attempt to spell it as well before giving up after a couple of minutes with a huff. Turning back to his PC with your phone still in hand. 

“Chat, how do you spell beautiful?” He asked, and you laughed, leaning against the back of his seat as you watched everyone spell beautiful in the chat. Lando copied it down on his phone for you with a smile he handed it back 

“Thank you love” You smiled, and he nodded 

“You’re welcome. Tell them I said congratulations. Can you spell that?” He teased, and you shook your head 

“No. I can’t” You whined, and he laughed 

“Chat do your thing” you laughed, leaning back against his chair to copy the spelling. 

“Fuck being dyslexic” You mumbled kissing his head before walking out of the room.

Being dyslexic meant that not only did you struggle with long and complicated words but also the word and complicated words. 

Lando had been getting his helmet hand painted by the company who makes the trophies for the Hungarian grand prix and you had joined him really excited to see the projects that they did but when Lando went to sign the guest book that’s when the problems came. 

Lando couldn’t spell a couple of words. Some of which you remembered how to spell and others neither of you could figure out the spelling for which is how Lando’s spelling of family entered the internet with people either saying how cute it was or bullying him for not being able to spell. 

You personally thought it was cute. As teachers have always said ‘Spell it how you say it’ which is one thing that you and Lando stick to constantly because neither of you can spell some words. 

“I hate people that think they know better than us just because they can spell correctly and at first try” You laughed knowing how much it irritated him even when he talks about his struggles with it occasionally. 

"I know you do love, but I bet there's words that even they can't spell." You shrugged, rubbing his back as he nodded

"At least they can read out loud, though," you huffed, and he nodded

"That's very true"

Mclaren had the brilliant idea to put you and Lando in the same video where they made you read things out loud. Now your original plan was to make Oscar read everything out, but when you started that during the video, the admins weren’t happy with that. 

Apparently, you even being here was Lando’s idea in the first place. Apparently, he was feeling too clingy to do a video with you standing behind the camera, and he wanted to be next to you the whole time. 

So after getting told off by the admins, Lando moved towards you a little more so you could work on the cards together. It couldn’t be too hard, could it? 

Wrong. It was worse than reading out loud at school, and you were only reading a couple of lines of lyrics from a song. 

“This games stupid” you mumbled to Lando, who nodded

“Osc you’re reading again” Lando nodded, earning a glare from the media admins. 

“Look, you're making two dyslexics read out loud. To read four of these cards, your video will be at least half an hour long if we keep reading them” Lando shrugged as Oscar held back a laugh from next to you.

Coming Soon

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