#the most it made me feel was at that moment that turned into a meme where i thought “Hop on fortnite”

[toiletclown]

breathless.

spencer agnew x gn!reader

mostly fluff, a little angst.

part one of four or five, depending how much more i add.

summary: you've had feelings for your best friend, spencer, almost as long as you have known him. it isn't getting any easier, and you need to tell him soon, whether he feels the same or not. your friends are pushing you, the fans already ship you, and after courtney and shayne's success, you just couldn’t bare to keep lying anymore. to yourself, or to him.

word count: 2028 for part one.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It’s been two years since you graduated from Smosh crew member to Smosh cast member. You weren’t the first, and are unlikely to be the last, but it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. You were moved to cast not long after Spencer made his switch to cast, but that was exactly your problem, wasn’t it? When you were both on crew, it was easier. Small smiles, hidden glances, a blush forming under your mask. Once or twice, Brennan had swiveled his camera to the crew to get their reactions and you couldn’t duck fast enough to dodge the shot. 

You both shared moments without fear of judgment, knowing everyone at Smosh knew how close you were. Some more than others. But once you were both on camera more often, those moments dwindled to near nothingness. You couldn’t make eyes at him, he couldn’t flirt with you. Plenty of the cast flirted with each other on and off camera, of course, but it was different somehow. The office flirting became private hangout flirting, which then became no flirting at all. 

He didn’t get jealous anymore when Amanda or Angela flirted with you, and you did your best not to get jealous when he flirted with Tommy or Shayne. It was like your friendship was entirely platonic again. And while that was all it had ever been – platonic – it hurt a little. It was like something happened overnight, and the flirting wasn’t cool anymore.

The last time something happened before your promotion to cast, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse were doing Who Meme’d It with Shayne, and someone had sent in a meme about you always looking at Spencer. As soon as it popped up, everyone was laughing, and Brennan promptly turned his camera to get your face. You were smart enough to expect it, and you managed to push out a laugh and shrug to the camera. All in good fun, it seemed. But really, it was a little bit upsetting to realize you were so obvious about your affection for Spencer. You thought that you were fairly secretive and weren’t too over the top, but apparently not so much.

“Okay, ‘Y/N pretending they weren’t just staring at Spencer’! Spencer, any thoughts?” Shayne said through giggles. 

Spencer made eye contact with you, and you did your best to hold it. “Gotta be honest, Shayne, I wasn’t even aware they stared at me. Guess they’re sneakier than I thought!” Everyone was laughing again, and you joined in. Instead of making a joke about him staring at you, or a joke about you two flirting in your pod, he went with a PR answer. You could barely admit to yourself how bad it had stung. And sure, most people got roasted in Who Meme’d It, especially with the lack of funeral roasts, but it didn’t really feel good to have your private crush on Spencer blasted to not only cast and crew, but whoever ends up watching this video. And his comment was making it seem more one-sided than you liked.

After the laughter settled down, Shayne got back to hosting. “Alright, who meme’d it! Was it Erin Dougal? Courtney? Or Y/N themselves?” You made a silly face when Brennan panned to you, channeling your best mad scientist look. Your face dropped immediately after. No one saw it.

The cast members debated for a second before writing down their answers. It was Courtney across the board. “Alright, so we all think Courtney made this meme. Angela, what makes you think it was Courtney?” 

“Shayne, that’s a great question, thank you so much for being here with me today. I said Court because I have seen them having little whisper sessions with Y/N and I simply don’t trust like that!” Angela laughed, a bright smile on her face. She winked at you once the camera had moved away from her face. She was actually your go-to confidant, and you were sure she knew that. She was your best friend, behind Spencer, after all.

After a dramatic pause, it was revealed that Erin Dougal was the one who made the meme. You could have called that from a mile away, but that was because Erin was constantly telling you to ask Spencer out. You shot her down every time, knowing it was safer and easier to suffer in silence with your feelings rather than to possibly fuck everything up with your best friend. Besides, suffering in silence was what you were best at.

//

And now, a few months later, you were the one in front of the camera for a Who Meme’d It. It was your first time actually competing, although you’ve sent your fair share of memes in. Spencer and Angela were the only two people to continuously guess you correctly, which in the grand scheme of things made the most sense as they were your closest friends at Smosh. However, you were now competing against both of them, and your competitive side didn’t have a concept of “friendship”, unfortunately. 

“Okay! Welcome back to Who Meme’d It! Today we have Angela, Y/N, and Spencer competing. And Y/N is quite competitive so let’s hope they still have their best friends after this!” Shayne introduced you all, smiling at you to ease your anxiety. 

“Lest we forget what happened when they were on Don’t Win Mario Party and nearly killed me,” Spencer said, turning towards you with his hands folded on the table. His eyes were smiling, but he was trying his best to keep a serious face.

You turned to face him, mirroring his expression and hands. “Lest we forget you deserved that attack because you fucked with my controller mid-lap so that you could get seventh.”

“Okay, are we doing Who Meme’d It or the Newlywed Game?” Angela joked, and you and Spencer returned to your normal positions, excited to play.

//

After the shoot, Spencer caught up with you in the kitchen. “You got your first Who Meme’d It win, how’s it feel?” You had indeed won, but only by two points. Spencer was right behind you and Angela frankly tanked it this episode. Usually she wasn’t too bad, but perhaps she knew how competitive you were going to be and decided to focus more on having fun instead of winning. Especially considering there was content being made that needed to be entertaining.

“Eh, I feel like my competitiveness isn’t very fun on camera. I’m hoping we don’t have to scrap the ep simply because I was too locked in.” You grabbed some fruit from the fridge and prepared to make your way to a table so you could sit and destress before your next shoot. You weren’t needed on set for over an hour so you were ready to mindlessly doomscroll while you snacked on your peaches.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, which made your heart flutter a bit. Suddenly, you had the urge to touch him. You put your hand on his shoulder, mostly unconsciously, not actively making the decision but simply just doing it. His giggling stopped instantly, and he looked at your hand cryptically, his expression unreadable. All too suddenly, it felt too serious, too personal, so you instantly pivoted. “But at least you didn’t win, right?” You smiled, patting his shoulder and turning to head to your seat. 

You were hoping, for the first time ever if you were being honest, that he wouldn’t follow you. Things had been weird between you two for a few weeks now, and you almost wanted some space to deal with the pain of your best friend seeming to lose interest in your friendship. And once again, Erin had submitted a meme that made you a little upset. You knew it was unreasonable to be upset with her, as it was all in good fun and she wasn’t actually trying to hurt your feelings. You should probably try to talk to her about that, since you knew she wouldn’t take your upset personally.

This one was arguably worse than the first one though, because instead of it being at your expense, it was technically at Spencer’s. The meme wasn’t mean in any regard, but it was making fun of Spencer for consistently getting “lost in his thoughts” whenever you were on a shoot together. Of course, Erin alluded to those thoughts being romantic in nature, which earned a few oohs and aahs from the crew and cast alike. You had felt your face get warm and tried to remind yourself you were on camera and it was all in good fun. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Courtney approaching you. “Y/N, Spence! Just the two people I wanted to see. I have a question for you guys.” 

Clearly, Spencer had intended on following you, since Courtney had greeted you both. You sighed as quietly as possible, before asking Court if you could sit down before you all got to talking. Your castmates followed you to a table, and you popped a piece of fruit in your mouth. “Okay, what's up?” 

“Well, we wanted to do a Guitar Hero stream next week. I know you haven't been on any of the livestreams, so I figured I’d ask if you wanted to be in this one. You don't have to play but if you sit and make commentary I’m sure that'll be enough! But of course you can play if you want to.” Courtney was always so thoughtful, and you made a mental note to thank her for always being so considerate. 

“Oh hell yeah, I finally get to show off my guitar skills. It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if Y/N’s down, I’m down!” Spencer’s eyes lit up. He had been trying to figure out a way to impress you and gauge your reaction before he finally took the leap and asked you on a date.

Everyone had been encouraging him to do so for months at this point, but he still wasn’t so sure about it. Yeah, you blushed whenever he mentioned you on camera and you blushed a lot during the shoot today when Erin’s meme came up. But some part of him felt like that had less to do with reciprocating a crush and more to do with embarrassment. 

You thought for a minute, munching on your peach slice. “Sure, that sounds fun. Spencer, maybe you could teach me how to play?”

Spencer broke out in a grin, “Of course I can. Although I’m surprised you’ve never played it before, it’s an iconic franchise.”

Courtney worked out a few more details with the two of you before making their way back to their pod. When she had left, Spencer turned his attention back to you. “Have you seriously never played Guitar Hero before?” He genuinely was having trouble believing that.

Truthfully, you had played before. Many times. And you were actually quite skilled at it. But it’s been quite some time since you picked up and played it, and you knew you would be rusty. Plus, you were mentally hatching a plan. Have Spence “teach” you the game, play extremely badly the whole time, then on stream you can kick his ass on Expert mode. Perfect plan.

“I have not. I might have played once or twice as a kid but I don’t really remember the controls or, like, speed, since I know some of the songs are really fast.”

“Okay, do you wanna come by my place tonight after work? I have a bunch of the Guitar Hero games but I also have Clone Hero which will probably be what we use on the stream anyway.”

Oh, right. Not-so-perfect plan. If you were to be taught, you needed to be taught before the livestream. Which means you had to hang out with Spencer outside of work. You can survive one night alone with him, right? You’ve done it so many times before. Sure, it’s been a few weeks since you guys hung out, and with your increasing feelings for him you were sure to be awkward. But it was Spencer! Your best friend in the whole world! It would be just fine. Right?

[mariacallous]

Everyone, it seems, wants a piece of Moo Deng. The baby pygmy hippo is barely two months old and already famous. So beloved on TikTok, Instagram, and X is Moo Deng that workers at Khao Kheow Open Zoo, the place in Thailand where she was born, are doing all they can to keep up with her fans’ appetite for more. They post videos, photos, updates. They also welcome thousands of visitors a day and find themselves having to defend Moo Deng when tourists throw shells at her while she’s just trying to chill.

Moo Deng, a name that means “bouncy pig,” has probably been all over your timeline lately—on Sephora makeup tutorials, on X’s main feed. She was born in July and in the past few weeks has become the Internet’s New Favorite Animal. A tradition almost as old as the internet itself, Favorite Animals—Maru, any of the dogs on the shiba inu puppy cam, those two llamas who just happened to run free the same day everyone was trying to decide what color The Dress was—come into the public consciousness seemingly out of nowhere. Some, like Doge, stick around; others disappear, or simply outgrow their cuteness, within a matter of weeks.

All of which makes capitalizing on their fame a matter of some urgency. It seems heartless to think of animals this way, but if their owners don’t, someone else will. Perhaps that’s why zoo director Narongwit Chodchoi told the Associated Press this week that the zoo has begun the process of trying to trademark and patent the hippo to avoid her likeness getting used by anyone else—a smart move considering Moo Deng mugs, T-shirts, and other merch are already popping up online. Income from these efforts, Chodcho told the wire service, could “support activities that will make the animals’ lives better.”

Moo Deng might need it. Fandom is getting a bit out of control these days. As pop stars like Chappell Roan have amassed online and offline fame, they’ve also had to use their platforms to ask for space from boundary-less fans and stalkers. Social media celebs like Drew Afualo, on whose podcast Roan appeared to talk about the subject, also tell stories of being approached in public by people who simply know them from the internet.

It may seem odd to compare them to Favorite Animals, but the ways in which people feel entitled to their time aren’t that far apart. Everyone wants something for the ’gram, even if that something is a living being with its own sense of agency. One of Moo Deng’s most popular TikToks has 34 million views, and zoo staff have had to limit her visiting time to five minutes on Saturdays and Sundays to keep too many people from trying to get content of their own.

Trademark protections may be the best way for Moo Deng’s caretakers to ensure others don’t cash in on her viral fame. When Jools Lebron made efforts to trademark her “very demure, very mindful” meme, one of the hurdles that emerged was that it’s hard to claim ownership of a phrase. As Kate Miltner, a lecturer in data, AI, and society at the University of Sheffield’s Information School, told me at the time, memes with audiovisual elements, like Nyan Cat or Grumpy Cat, are easier to register. “People will invariably try to make money off of viral or memetic content, as we've seen time and again,” Miltner says when asked about trademarking the baby hippo, adding that the Cincinnati Zoo has already done this with Fiona the Hippo. “It's smart of the Khao Kheow Open Zoo to (at least try to) ensure that they’re the ones that do so.”

Lebron seems to be figuring out how to market her moment, and Moo Deng’s keepers seem to be doing the same. Being online in 2024 means living in a state of near-constant vulnerability. You could get hacked or turned into a humiliating deepfake. Having a public opinion on a video game or The Acolyte could turn your mentions into a hellscape. And that’s what happens to filthy casuals. When you’re an ascending pop star or a baby hippo the weak spots multiply, because the world always seems hungry for more of you. It’s possible to protect yourself, even monetize yourself, but you can lose yourself, too.

Like Boaty McBoatface, Moo Deng was named by the internet. The zoo held a poll on social media. Unlike McBoatface, Moo Deng is a living thing; she’s a member of an endangered species and needs protecting. Moo Deng is more than a meme.

[townslore]

discovery of the day

[porcalinecunt]

(𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃)𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 ♡︎

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ having the body of a cyborg came with it’s perks, including turning boothill into your own personal porn bot a plug away! ~ ♡︎

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — afab!reader. mean dom!boothill. improper use of usb ports. pornography. manhandling. overstimulation. edging. pussy drunk boothill. no pronouns for reader.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : saw someone on tt mention inappropriate use of boothill’s usb ports, and i couldn’t help myself. <33 as usual, enjoy!

“..and i’m supposed to plug this in?”

Boothill spun the harddrive around his fingers, staring at it with both curiosity yet suspicion. it was a hot pink color with a heart sticker sloppily slapped onto the front. you handed it to him without saying a word, leaving him beyond dumbfounded.

you simply nodded, trying hard not to burst out laughing. despite the glaringly obvious USB ports that were carved into his waist, he swore to have never actually stuck anything in them. by anything, of course, were any harddrives that could’ve been packed with whatever info or footage that would’ve automatically made it’s way into his memory. he didn’t want anyone’s weird porno or stupid memes to burn into his motherboard and live with it.

yet he had a hard time saying no to you. hell, he’d never say no to you unless it’d kill you. then again, it was probably a random assortment of cat videos you came across on your feed. it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. right?

holding up a reluctant thumbs up, you plugged the harddrive in and awaited his reaction with anticipation. boothill never looked away from your reaction, quickly noticing something was rather…off about your face. your lips curled into a seductive grin, biting down on your lower lip while hearts practically carved your pupils. your cheeks and nose were flushed a slight pink that faded to a hot red color.

yet, it was already too late for him.

his vision suddenly became a hot pink blur, the gears within his body had began to spun widely while the mini fans tried to cool down his heating body. the blood red target in his eye morphed into a pink heart while he spaced out at what was being shown in front of him.

nothing but pure pornography, some of the most explicit, flooding his memory and infecting his circuits with the love virus. boothill felt his head spin from the lewd imagery, bouncing from clip to clip of multiple sex acts all at once. from simple missionary to subs being bent in half by their ridiculously larger doms, there was even one where they were in full nelson. legs high up with thier sopping cunt in full view. it was all too much.

“so this..is what y’want me to do to ya…”

the cyborg chuckled, overwhelmed with his sudden libedo. he looks over at you with hungry eyes, flashing his shark toothed grin the moment you nodded.

“why didn’t ya say so, dollface..?”

“a-ah! m’sorry! m’sorry boothill..! i-i was only p-playing..ngh!”

your clothes were torn clean off without a damn given, leaving you bare and vulnerable as the cyborg pumped his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. just like how you wanted it, bent in half in full nelson with your legs held high as only boothill’s arms kept you from falling. his pace was unforgiving, hungrily stuffing you full like your his last meal on death row. despite your body already stiffening from the position, boothill showed no sign of stopping. his eyes, bright pink with hearts dialating for pupils, full of burning desire and a greedy lust that clouded his judgement till his mind went blank.

it was as if the cyborg was built for fucking, his only goal being to push you beyind your human limit.

“zip it, sugar. you're gonna take m’dick even when i’m done with ya, you hear?”

boothill hissed in your ear with a mean rasp, shark-like teeth nibbling away at your earlobe. the ticklish feeling only added to the intense overstimulation that turned your brain into mush. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach close to snapping for what seems like the tenth time tonight, until a sudden emptiness snapped you back into reality. looking down, you noticed how boothill pulled himself out, leaving you hanging. a whine came out of your throat almost instinctively at the neglect.

“boothilll..! i was so clo!—“

you’re words were rudely cut off as the ranger threw you onto the bed with you laying on your back. he wasted no time crawling on top of you and pressing his heavy body against yours. trapped, you couldn’t even move an inch as you squirmed under his touch. he practically caged you.

“keep whinin’ like that and I'll leave ya empty. got that?”

as difficult as it was, you pressed your lips together and screwed your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep quite. your cunny spasmed around his length as he kept going with his violent pace. even with the harddrive, you could never imagine boothill going this far. you truely underestimated the strength of the virus that infected his mechanical body with such libido, yet you don’t regret it. you continued to cry out as your limbs grew numb, your senses going blank in an orgasmic euphoria. you were teetering towards the fuckin’ edge.

you sobbed out babbles of “‘m gonna cum!~” over and over again like it was automatic. finally, the knot snapped in two as stars filled your vision. if he wasn’t made of metal, you would’ve left some nasty scratch marks.

on the other hand, the ranger watched in pure awe as his pretty baby fell apart on his dick. your fucked out expression, teary eyes and pouty lips covered in spit, only fuled him for more. you couldn’t even get a breath in as you were picked up and flipped onto your stomach, ass high up in the air.

“you think ‘m done yet sugar? hehe, that’s cute.”

you could only sigh in response, unable to do anything about your own mess. lesson learned, never fuck with a machine you know so little about.

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Feels Like Sabotage - Charles Leclerc x Red Bull! Reader

Summary: The Grid have decided that this is the season to see who can injure Yn the most. (Not intentionally, they all feel terrible about it). Fed up of seeing his girlfriend injured, Charles decides to enact revenge. 

Pairing: Platonic! Grid x reader. Charles Leclerc x Reader (slight)

Warnings: swearing, slight injury 

Word count: 3.3k

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

#1 Lando Norris

Cheers thundered throughout the track, vibrating through the floor and buzzing into the bodies of the podium winners. Max Verstappen stood in the middle, arms raised high as he bared his Grand Prix trophy to the roaring crowd. Another successful race, another win under his belt. The Dutch anthem was still ringing in his ears, and his smile widened as he turned to his left, finding his teammate beaming with her P3 trophy in hand. A double podium for Red Bull and another step closer to the Constructors Championship.

Jumping down from the P2 podium, Lando raced over to his friends, eager to share in their victories. He threw his arms around Max and Yn, dragging them both into a hug and shouting congratulations into their ears. Disentangling herself from the papaya racer, Yn turned to face the crowd, eyes scanning for a dark-haired Ferrari racer. Dimples deepening as he made eye contact with her, Charles blew his girlfriend a celebratory kiss. Unimpressed that Yn was distracted and not listening to his overjoyed shouts, Lando waved his arms about in front of her, hoping to garner her attention. Miscalculating his movements, his face morphed from delight to terror. Around them, cameras caught the moment that Yn’s face morphed from heart eyes to pain as the trophy came into contact with her skull. 

“Oh, fuck! Yn, I am so sorry! Oh, no. That was so hard.”

Recoiling from the McLaren driver, her free hand came up to nurse the red mark forming on her forehead. Lando chased after her, apologies spilling from his mouth. Yn beat him back with her elbow. 

“Did you just hit me with your trophy?” Yn asked in shock. “I didn’t even beat you.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was waving it about and…”

“And they say F1 drivers are coordinated,” chuckled Max, walking over to his teammate to inspect the damage done to her skull. He winced jokingly, fingers prodding the dark bruise forming. “Oh, dear, you have a bump.”

“Your protective P instincts are kicking in.” She teased, jerking back as pain lanced down the side of her face. “You going to put a Disney princess sticker on it next?” 

Max laughed, the melodic sound breaking through the ringing in her ears. “No, no. I will save those for Lando after Charles runs him off the track.”

The three winners glanced down at the aforementioned Ferrari driver, although Lando quickly looked away. Fury blazed in his blue eyes at the dark mark on her forehead. 

Sighing deeply, Yn placed the bag of ice (long since melted into water) on the table in her driver’s room. Post-podium interviews were always draining but it seemed to drag more so today. Although that might have partly been due to the pounding headache and the dull ache behind her eyes. After the disaster on the podium, the journalists had focused less on their momentous success and more on the injury she had sustained at the hands of Lando Norris.

The internet had already turned their moment into a meme, laughing at the incident, but the journalists decided to take a different route, complaining that Lando had done it deliberately. Fielding those questions was always soul-destroying, especially when they liked to twist whatever you said. Three short knocks sounded at her door, and it clicked open before she could turn from the mirror. 

“Mon amour.” Charles’ head poked between the gap before wincing slightly at the look on her face. “Does it hurt? I can’t believe Lando hit you.”

“He’s like an excitable toddler.”

Charles pulled her into his arms, glancing down at his bruised girlfriend. “You look like an œuf.”

“Saying it in French doesn’t make it any less insulting, Charles.” 

“You are the most beautiful egg I have ever seen,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the wound Lando had left. 

#2 Daniel Ricciardo 

Sweat ran down the back of Yn’s neck as she gripped the steering wheel harder, flying through turn six. She tapped the brake slightly as the back of a Ferrari came closer, slowing down. 

“What is he doing?”

“Leclerc seems to be having an issue.”

“No shit. He fucking slowed right down.”

“Overtake when you can.”

“Tell me how to do my job, why don’t you?”

Pushing the car forward, she inched past the Ferrari as they approached the next turn. Her teeth clenched tightly together as he faded from view, running right alongside her. She felt sweat run down her cheek as her heart pounded in her chest and tried to focus on her breathing. She could do this. Just a little more.

“Fantastic job,” her engineer praised. “P5 now.”

Glancing in the mirror, she startled at the sight of Charles skidding off the track and onto the gravel, coming to a stop just before the barrier. 

“Is he okay?”

“Gearbox malfunction. Leclerc is fine and out of the car. Car behind is Ricciardo, two seconds.” 

“Okay.”

Relieved that Charles was fine, Yn returned her attention back to the track, doing her best to keep the McLaren behind her. 

“Defend. He’s going to try and overtake.”

Turning the corner, Yn kept on the inside, yanking the wheel in order to achieve the tight turn. Despite pulling left, she felt the car veer off to the right, ignoring her command as she slammed her foot down on the brake. Her body snapped forward as the car came to a sudden stop, smacking into the foam barrier. The plastic coating with Pirelli splashed across it broke, landing atop her head. 

“You okay?”

“What the fuck was that?!” 

“Ricciardo made contact.”

“No shit. He fucking shunted me into the wall!” 

“Obviously we’re going to have to retire the car.”

The cameras honed in on the Red Bull racer as she pulled herself out of the car. The crowd sighed in relief, pleased that she was alright but recoiled as she turned, violently kicking part of the plastic barrier. “Fuck!”

Storming over to the McLaren garage, Yn called out for the other driver forced to DNF. Behind them, the race was continuing, only another ten laps left to determine who would find their way onto the podium. And Yn wasn’t one of them. 

“What the fuck was that! Do you know how to drive?”

“Me? You turned into me!” 

“Don’t give me that shit! I was ahead of you, I was doing my turn first! You fucking clipped my wheel because you didn’t leave enough space and you want to blame me.”

Flashes of light went off around them, capturing the furious racer as she yelled at the sheepish Australian. 

“I am sorry but coming in here to yell at me won’t put you back in the race.”

“No, it won’t because my car is fucked! Learn to fucking drive next time.”

“A pleasure talking to you as always, LN.” 

“Suck my dick!” She yelled back, ignoring the numerous journalists smirking to themselves over their next juicy headline.

Debriefed and dismissed for the evening, Yn dragged her weary body out of the Red Bull motorhome. Despite having been cleared by medical, she was covered in bruises and looking forward to a night off. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Charles teased, taking his hand out of his pockets and holding it out for her. Lacing her fingers through his, Yn’s broke out in a smile when he pulled her closer. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“What sort of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t drive you back to the hotel after your accident.”

“But, my car-”

“Will be dropped off later. I’ve already sorted it, mon ange.”

“You take such good care of me.”

Charles bent down, lips tracing her ear. “It does not end here. What do you say we take a bath when we get back?”

Yn laughed, leaning into him as his breath tickled her neck. Before she could answer, the pair of them were out of the paddock and assaulted by the media. 

“Yn. Yn. How are things between you and Daniel after your argument today? Things looked to be quite heated.” 

“Daniel and I will be fine. We haven’t spoken since our argument but it’s very hard to remain mad at someone like Daniel.”

“Charles, do you feel the same way? After all, it was your girlfriend he crashed into.”

“Obviously there was a bit of anger at seeing someone you care about crash. Um, but Yn is a driver much like anyone else. These things happen. If she forgives him then that is all that matters.”

The two drivers excuses themselves, walking past the rest of the media without stopping. Charles’ arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. A muscle in his jaw ticked and he was relieved when they entered the safety of his car. 

“You handled that very well.”

“Could you tell I was furious?”

“No. You were very diplomatic.”

“Just another name to add to my list of people to hit with my car.”

“Char, you can’t say things like that,” giggled Yn.

“Only to you.”

#3 Lewis Hamilton

Waving at the crowd, Yn made her way across the paddock, eager for the day ahead. Another Sunday, another race, another chance at the podium. Stopping every now and then to take pictures with fans, Yn chatted animatedly with her PR manager as they discussed her upcoming media obligations. Unlike her teammate, she was much more amiable towards media appearances but only enjoyed the ones that didn’t feel more like a conference. 

“Beep beep,” a British voice called out behind her, alerting the two women clad in Red Bull polos that he was approaching. “Good morning, lovely ladies.”

He pulled up alongside them, foot slipping off the brake. Instead of coming to a stop, he felt the scooter roll over a bump in the end. Jumping off the two-wheeled contraption, he winced as his on-track rival hopped around clutching her left foot. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t realise your foot was right there.”

“Why can’t you walk like everyone else?” She grumbled, wincing at the throbbing sensation when she put her foot flat on the ground. 

“Because it’s slower?” He offered weakly, looping her arm around his shoulders and helping her hop the remaining feet towards the Red Bull garage. 

Interested in the laces of her shoes, Yn shuffled in her seat. The top half of her racing suit had been discarded, tied around her waist, but when she sat down the sleeves had created an uncomfortable mound. P4 had been a helpful finish for the battle for Constructors but she couldn't help the disappointment at her finish. Lando, noticing her movements, asked if she was still in pain. One of the journalists called her name, preventing her from answering. 

“We noticed you limping earlier when you got out of the car. Was that in relation to the videos of Lewis helping you into the Red Bull garage earlier?” 

Lewis shifted awkwardly in his seat, offering the young woman another apologetic smile. 

“Uh, yes. Unfortunately, earlier today, Lewis ran over my foot with his scooter. I have some lovely bruising to show for it.”

“Do you blame Lewis? Do you think that was what stopped you from achieving P1? Perhaps it was deliberate.”

“Both Lewis and Toto made their way down to the Red Bull garage to apologise personally. It absolutely wasn’t sabotage. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, yes, my boot was tied looser than usual, and putting pressure on my foot was painful in terms of braking. However, the onus is on me in terms of my performance. I don’t feel like I gave it my best today, and Max is very fast,” she finished with a laugh, earning scattered laughter from the room.

A buzz sounded in her pocket and she discreetly slipped her phone from it, checking the notification. The little race car next to the name had her smiling. 

Charles: You. Me. Celebration later? I’ll find the greasiest food

Yn: I miss you. This conference sucks

Charles: No, you miss being in the podium conference. Don’t lie to me x

Yn: That too

#4 Max Verstappen

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is another perfect 1-2 for Red Bull! I imagine it’s smiles all around in their garage.” 

The Dutch anthem was still ringing in her ears when the 2nd place trophy was placed in her hands. Grin plastered across her face, Yn raised her trophy high in the air, relishing in the roar of her team, watching down below. Once Charles’ trophy had been securely handed over, and the presenters had scurried off the stage to safety, Max lunged forward for the large champagne bottle. Shaking it profusely, he popped the cork and aimed at his teammate.

Not even having time to reach for her own bottle, Yn was waterboarded by the bubbly liquid. Spluttering violently, she clapped her hands over her face, trying to ward off the onslaught of champagne. It was up her nose, down her throat and, most painfully, burning her right eye. 

“Max, you bastard,” she hissed, stumbling towards the edge of the stage where her engineer was waiting with a damp towel. Pressing it tight against her eye, she grumbled to herself about the dangers of champagne. 

“Oh, bebe, not another injury.” Charles murmured, glancing at her bloodshot eye. Champagne rolled off the tip of his hat, flicking the tip of her nose. 

Max bounded over next, laughing in elation at his win. He apologised at the sight of her eye but it felt a tad insincere when he followed it with, “They should call you the driver’s champion of non-race related injuries.”

“More like the champion of idiotic work colleagues.” 

“Don’t be like that. You love me really.” Max pulled her in for a headlock, wet arms wrapping around her head. Yn stomped on his foot when another drop of champagne rolled into her stinging eye. 

Fiddling with the cord of her microphone, Yn’s high from achieving P2 faded with each passing moment. Winning a podium was euphoric until she remembered it entailed a ninety minutes press-conference afterwards. Ignoring how badly she wanted food, Yn leaned over, whispering to Max, who looked as equally bored as she.

Charles’ hand slipped from her thigh as she moved, and he shook his head with a smile when he caught her gossiping. Her teammate grinned at whatever she said before the pair of them heard her name being called. Snapping to attention, Yn pulled away from Max and sat upright in her chair.

“Apologies but would you mind repeating the question?” Yn asked sheepishly. 

“Following your recent accidents at the hands of your fellow racers, there’s rumours flying around that the male members of the Grid are opposed to your presence on the track. Care to comment?” 

Yn leant forward towards her mic. “I must admit I’m starting to believe these rumours,” she let out a small laugh, informing everyone she was joking. “No, no. In all seriousness, I do seem to be getting attacked an awful lot by my fellow racers this season - uh, most recently was being blinded by Max after the podium - but I don’t believe there is any animosity behind it. They’ve all been very apologetic. I’m just unfortunate.” 

“Mon amour maladroite,” whispered Charles but the microphone picked it up regardless. 

Fake frowning at him, she reiterated for the crowd. “There’s a lot of love between me and the rest of the drivers so these are all just inCHIdents.” 

Charles looked at her in shock, offended by her mockery. “Hey!” He whined. “I’m the only person not trying to sabotage you.”

Yn pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek and the cameras lapped up the rare glimpse of affection between the two during a race weekend. 

Charles' Revenge

A race in Monaco meant that the majority of drivers were able to spend the week beforehand at home. Padding across the living room barefoot, Yn made her way towards the kitchen. Wrapping her arms around Charles’ waist, she pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. He turned in her arms, beaming down at her in his oversized hoodie. After her racing suit, this look was his favourite. 

“Thank you for helping me with this, handsome.”

“Help you? It was my idea, mon coeur. Especially because you would not let me run them off the track.” 

“Because that is…” she prompted.

“Dangerous,” he finished with a pout. 

The doorbell alerted them to the arrival of their first dinner guest, and she smirked to herself before flitting over to the door. Max stood there nervously, a bouquet of flowers in hand. She stepped aside to let him in, and thanked him when he handed the large flower bunch to her. 

“To apologise for blinding you, and to thank you for dinner.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, Max,” she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the flowers, almost feeling bad for deceiving him. He probably deserved this the least but her boyfriend needed a way to release his anger. “I’m going to put them in some water. Charles is in the main room with some sport thingy on the television. Gin and tonic?” 

“Just one.” He nodded, placing his discarded shoes on the rack before sloping off in search of the brunette driver. 

Hands clasped, Charles and Yn placed dishes of pasta in front of Lando, Daniel, Lewis and Max, smiling when they thanked them. Yn was well-known for her cooking throughout the paddock, often cooking sweet treats in the week and bringing them in for the Grid to share. Having a birthday on a racing weekend was a much coveted holiday because it meant a homemade cake from the Red Bull racer.

Watching as each of them took a big mouthful, she watched them all grimace in disgust when they swallowed. Taking a sip of wine before speaking, she informed them of the true reason behind their meal. “I lied to you. I didn’t cook dinner for you this evening.”

The four of them turned to face the devious Ferrari driver looking innocently at them, horror plastered across their faces. “Charles did.”

Friday - Practice 

“Four F1 drivers are reportedly suffering from food poisoning. Perhaps a racing dinner gone wrong? They’re still set to race on Sunday, just two days from now, but images of them have emerged from today’s free practice, and the four look particularly under the weather.”

Seated opposite her Team Principal, Yn fiddled with her fingers as Christian berated her. Shame crept up the back of her neck and for the fifth time that day, she wished Charles was with her. Hands perched on his hips, Christian stared down at her, waiting for an explanation. 

“I didn’t think they’d be ill for this long?” She defended weakly. “I just thought they’d suffer through a gross meal and that would be the end of it. I bought pizza afterwards!”

“You let them eat Charles’ food! What did you think would happen? The boy can’t cook.” 

“Oops…?”

Christian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You could’ve at least left Max out of it.”

“He blinded me!”

“And I’d do it again!” Max groaned, clutching his stomach. Sweat beaded his forehead despite the cool compress resting atop it.

“The alternative was Charles pushing you off the track,” she shot back.

“He’d have to catch me first,” argued Max. 

The two drivers broke out into good-natured bickering, voices raising as they got more heated. Sighing yet again, the Red Bull principal sank into his chair and muttered to himself, “I’m working with children.”

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

A/N: I'm not sure what this is (laugh) I apologise but writing fics isn't my strong suit. I should probably stick to smau's lol

On that note, requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)

[workingwhileidream]

Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).

- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.

- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.

- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.

- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.

- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.

- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.

- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.

- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.

- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.

- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.

- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.

- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.

- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.

- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.

- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.

- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.

- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.

- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.

- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.

- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.

[formulafics]

★ DO I WANNA KNOW? | JB22

Scenario: in which a series of unexpected events, starting with being stuck in the same hotel room with a single bed, takes teammates yn ln and jenson button from major rivals to lovers.

Pairing: jenson button x fem!reader

A/N: no one asked for this but LAWD I LOVE JENSON BUTTON. i had to do something about it 😔 shoutout to @renarots for supplying memes and 4 am brain rot that contributed to the making of this fic and most of my other ones too

NOTE: yn and jenson drive for mercedes (i had to do this for my own sanity)

racing_news

liked by buttonnation, sebrrari, and 12,432 others

racing_news jenson button responds to questions about his relationship with teammate yn ln following this weekends rumors.

view all 1,432 comments

formulawrld idec about the rumors jenson looks so fine bro

formulavettel i bet seb knows all the tea about them. sebastian please spill

webbersebberf1 🤨 surely they could have just gotten another room? they have the money for it. idk, me thinks they’re dating and trying to keep it secret

⤷ ferrarilvr LITERALLY. you genuinely cannot convince me that they aren’t dating after this

⤷ shumione you genuinely thing they’re together even with how much they clearly don’t like each other?

⤷ ferrarilvr 🤷🏻‍♀️ things change and honestly i feel like they’ve had feelings for each other and just didn’t want to admit it

It had been three months since the “hotel incident”. Finally, you texted him. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but you were ultimately relieved by his response, and didn’t wast a single moment on making your way to him.

With each step you take, a small splash sounds beneath your feet. Rain patters on the ground, and you pull your jacket closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold gust of wind that blows through the night. Each stride is powerful and determined - the truth is, you like Jenson. What once was a deep disdain for the man has somehow formed into a blossoming adoration for him. Miscommunications and mistakes lead you down the wrong path with him, but ever since the night of the “hotel incident” — as you, Jenson, and your team call it — you haven’t been able to see him in a bad light.

“Look, i’m sorry,” Jenson says, his expression softer than it had ever been towards you. You were almost offended, thinking he was about to try and make you feel bad, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re more than welcome to go - actually, i’ll pay for your hotel room if you want to leave, but if you’re choosing to stay, i’ll give you your space.” It was unlike him, at least, the him that you knew. He seemed remorseful and genuine, like you and him were anything but rivals. It made your heart beat just a little faster in your chest, and you couldn’t deny how strangely right it felt to be in the same bed with him. Even sharing the room was almost natural.

You turned away from each other to change, but both of you were guilty of peeking over your shoulder. Your eyes lingered for longer than you’d ever admit, but the same went for him. Neither of you could muster the courage to say anything, to address the tension between you both, and despite what should have been an awkward atmosphere, you both found yourselves comfortable in each others presence, even with the weight of your forbidden thoughts.

Not much happened after that, truthfully. Things did change though. Suddenly, his presence didn’t irk you, and you could never get on his nerves. You worked together more willingly, almost volunteered, and through those minor changes, you both came to realize how wrong you’d been about the other. Sure, Jenson had his moments, but he was sweet, a genuine and polite guy. You weren’t entitled the way Jenson thought - in fact, you were humble, kind…and how could he ever not see just how beautiful you are?

He doesn’t know the answer to that, but now, knowing that you’re moments away, he finds himself anxious. In a good way. He’s excited to see you, and he laughs to himself about how ironic that is given how he used to dread seeing you. A knock on his door draws him back to reality, and he knows it’s you. Outside of the hotel room, you wait impatiently, and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally opens the door. Instanly, like an instinct, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his warmth. His reaction is just as instinctive, and he wraps his arms around you, guiding you into the privacy of his room.

For the first time, you talked. Not yelled, not argued, just spoke to one another. It was a completely different experience for the two of you, one that you never thought would come of your relationship, but it came to you naturally. The warm touch of his hand holding yours, the somehow assuring and slightly intimidating way he looked at you as you spoke, the way he didn’t just listen to you, he heard you. And, you did the same for him. Though he didn’t have much to say, you listened and heard, and soon, you felt as though you’d only just met him, yet known him for years. Not the rival Jenson, but a Jenson you could get used to, one that you didn’t back away from when he leaned in.

It was a small, sealing kiss that he placed on your lips. One to really ensure that all of this was happening, that things were changing between the both of you, and you both accepted it, with a weight lifting off of your shoulders.

mercedesamgf1

liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, and 265,672 others

mercedesamgf1 last time in Abu Dhabi…

view all 6,346 comments

hereforbutton okay but are jenson and yn dating? PLEASE TELL US

formulaobsessed ARE YOUR DRIVERS DATING? YES OR NO?

⤷ mercedesamgf1 🤭

⤷ hereforbutton okay so what the fuck does that mean

formulayn we do NOT care about jenson rn where is my wife

mercamgfan maybe this time don’t prioritize the inferior driver 🙏🏻 yn deserves her wdc

hereforyn i’m so scared that this race is gonna send yn and jenson back into their rival arc

⤷ jensonbuttonlvr NO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. i cant handle them going back to rivals now

⤷ ynsgirlie i know. now that we have them being nice, i can’t imagine going back to what they used to be

mercedesamgf1

liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 346,789 others

mercedesamgf1 OUR WORLD CHAMPION ❤️ an exceptional performance from yn today, and a well deserved win. thank you for another amazing year, @/the.ynln

view all 5,678 comments

the.ynln i’m gonna cry 💔 thank you guys so much.

formulayn THATS MY FUCKING WIFE IM SO PROUD OF HER

buttonynamg MY BABIES P1-P2 IN WDC IM SO PROUD RIGHT NOW

formulaobssesed who’s here after the post race interview? 🤭

⤷ markwebba I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA FALL IN LOVE

⤷ jensonsbutton bro jenson was heart eyes for her in the whole interview and the way he kissed her cheek when she started talking about their relationship 💔 he was so gentle

⤷ hereforbutton what got me was her getting emotional about the win and him hugging her like :( i was always hoping they’d start getting along but i did not expect them to become like this

🏷️: general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse

[misfitgirlwrites]

Lucifer Having A Crush On You/How Would He React?

I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'M NOT--

It's time for my fictional love and life and all I hold dear in my daydreams. Bitches, bros, nonbinary hoes, and genderfluid fucks, I present to you the Big Dick in Charge

I may reference works that I've read and when I do I'll drop their @ and link to their story it is law that you read it if you read mine, I don't make the rules

CW: none, slightly angsty but nothing too intense!

Alright, doves, this is post-season one. Lucifer now resides in the hotel with everyone and is slowly adjusting to being graced with Alejandro's Alastor's presence every day.

Let's be honest, our baby pays attention but puts in minimal effort. Saying that the days went by in a blur would be an understatement. Even conversations would be forgotten after a few short moments. On to the next task. Full focus on this thing. Once that's done? Well onto the next task! No tasks? Free time to spend with Charlie!

Things would start slow, and to really interact, you'd most likely start to approach him first. Maybe you've spent long enough watching the blond anxiously bounce around the hotel and graciously give himself a bit too much for even the Big Boss of Hell.

A timid approach from you, offering to help with whatever he's currently doing. Maybe you make snacks for everyone in the hotel and hand him his personally :)

And so it begins! A greeting here, a greeting there, slightly awkward conversations that slowly start to feel less forced with the little information you learn about each other along the way.

It's...nice! Refreshing! Lucifer would be more excited than anything and talking to you would become a part of his regular routine without much thought on the matter. You'd occasionally be on his mind just a little more, and he'd start to seek you out himself too.

I know you're already seeking him out. Bitch I'M seeking him out.

Helping with chores around the hotel quickly turns into simply enjoying the other's company.

One day you gift him his very own ceramic duck! You could have paid for it from somewhere or made it yourself.

Either way, he'd fucking LOVE it! Honestly, if you decide to try your hand at making it, he'd love it even more with all the rough edges and little bumps (it was made out of love for my babies who never touched clay in their lives)

In response, please expect many gifts in return. I like to think it's been a while since he's gotten a genuine gift like this

(Bonus headcanon: Charlie will see this and will come to you the next day with a list of things she wants to gift him and you two are unofficially officially the Buy Lucifer Anything Duck-Themed duo)

Lucifer loves how you react when he gifts you your very own rubber duck. Your smile and happiness always seemed contagious to him. It only led to him making/getting you more things.

You will have a rubber duck collection by the end of this, but what can you really say? Each one of them is based on something you mentioned before. A movie character, a book character, a cartoon character, even friends or family members if they were mentioned. The gesture is way too sweet for you to turn down, even if it is the 30th duck you've received.

Now prepare for what I like to call the "get along t-shirt" phase but both parties are willing LMAO.

Lucifer will be by your side as long as you'll accept the company and if you're reading this and we brain the same, that will be all the time.

I love the GenZ!Reader memes and fics. Someone show this man bacon pancakes and if it was already done, SHOW ME.

Between his relationship with Charlie and with you, Lucifer actually feels the need and wants to be a little more present bit by bit. He notices that he is spending less time in his head, but he continues on in fear of fucking it up if he thinks too hard about it.

So instead he'll 100% focus on the little familiarity of happiness, as small as those moments may be sometimes. This is EXACTLY why the thought of him potentially feeling romantic interest again goes right over his head.

Who notices first, you ask? Charlie, of course. You slowly but surely became one of his main topics in conversation, it wasn't hard for her to pick up on it and ask.

Baby boy would straight up deny it at first. Him?? Liking someone else??? LMAO, am I right? Of course, after he does this, he'll have the time to actually pay attention to his actions.

So then he'll notice how excited he is every morning knowing that you'll be the first face he sees. He'll notice how he managed to fit you into any task he had to do. When he'd get lunch for himself and Charlie he'd have the automatic thought of making something for you as well. Even when the day was over, he'd be thinking about spending the next day with you. To be frank, you were constantly on his mind. 

Once he notices it's a big mental "fuck". Nothing about you is wrong of course, it's him, or so he thinks.

Let's start with the elephant in the room, or shall I say the ring on his finger lmao

In Lucifer's mind, he's still married technically. Even thinking about it in a technical term was a new development and it made him feel absolutely horrible. Lilith left, sure, but who knows what happened? Regardless of how he felt, he didn't want to hurt her.

But at the same time what about him? Lucifer hasn't been happy in a long time and he's finally building that again, not just with Charlie, but with you as well. He didn't want to just cut you out, he didn't want to hurt you either.

Plus, did you even like him? How would he even approach you? If he wanted to, even after thinking about everything.

Who was he kidding, of course, he still wanted you!

@liveontelevision *drops to my knees and bows* they worded it extremely well here and if you're reading this but you haven't read this already or you clicked the link then clicked back here, go back and read it. I don't care how long it is. Do the thing then come back.

Welcome back. It was good, wasn't it? I know.

The only awkward period for you two is the week-long contemplation of everything (half him attempting not to do what he always does when stressed but by the time he realizes he already made like 30 ducks--)

He would clearly go out of his way to either try and talk to you or avoid you. Or a cute mixture of both where he makes a scene approaching you, realizes he's not ready yet, then makes a scene so he can disappear *finger guns*

A little crisis here, a few little rubber ducks there, and a looooonnnggg conversation with Charlie and Maggie Vaggie.

Those are the ingredients to a semi-stable Lucifer with enough bravado to talk to you normally again.

He'd apologize for the times he basically pulled a Houdini in your face and he'd explain himself fully, all while also confessing his love for you.

It's choppy, it's fast-paced in some areas, and the poor blond was ready to disappear at any given moment, but that's what made it so real for you.

The weight that's lifted off of him couldn't be described, and neither could the joy that welled in him the moment he saw your beautiful smile and heard nothing but your acceptance and love.

What an emotional roller-coaster, am I right?

Lucifer Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @heart-of-the-morningstar

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Lucifer or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[amirasainz]

Baby!sainz when she’s in a secret relationship and no one knows about it and when she goes to a race everyone is trying to get her attention but she won’t cause she’s glide to her phone and when she takes a nap or goes to sleep they take her phone and find out she’s been in a relationship

(Hope that makes sense)

Don't woory love,it made 100% sense. I hope this is what you imagined. Enjoy reading and let me know if you have any requests.

For the boyfriendI went with Jude Bellingham.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!!

The secret boyfriend

It was a sunny day at the Barcelona Paddock. The atmosphere was electric, and the weather was perfect for wearing pretty dresses. While many might have assumed the fans were there to see local heroes Fernando Alonso and Carlos Sainz in action, a closer look revealed that most were members of the “I love Amira Sainz” club.

As Carlos and Amira entered the paddock that morning, they were greeted by enthusiastic cheers and the flashing lights of cameras. Carlos instinctively reached out to ensure his little sister was still behind him. When he didn’t feel her hand, his heart skipped a beat. He quickly turned around, searching for her, only to have Amira run straight into his chest. He grabbed her arms to steady her. Before he could ask if she was okay, she looked up and said, “Sorry, Carlito, I didn’t mean to run into you.” She then returned her attention to her phone, engrossed in texting her boyfriend, oblivious to the world around her. Carlos, ever the protective older brother, followed closely to make sure she didn’t trip or bump into anyone else.

What Carlos and the rest of the world didn’t know was that Amira Isabella Camila Sainz Vázquez de Castro had a boyfriend. Jude Bellingham, one of the world’s top football players, was currently competing for England in the Euro Cup. Since they couldn’t spend much time together, Amira and Jude made the most of every free moment by texting and calling each other. Despite his busy schedule, Jude couldn’t resist messaging the most perfect girl in the world. So, when he got hit in the face with a ball during training, while he was busy texting his girl, no one could blame the media team for turning his reaction into a meme.

___________________________________

Throughout the day, the drivers tried to gain Amira’s attention. The first one was Daniel. “Hiya, pretty girl. How ya doing?” he asked with a huge sunny smile. “Hi Danny. I’m alright, and you?” she replied quietly. Although she had turned her body towards him and stopped walking, her eyes remained glued to her phone. Daniel furrowed his eyebrows, noticing how distracted she was. “Hey, I’m good as well. I actually wanted to—” Before he could invite her for breakfast, he was interrupted by the ringtone of her phone. “Sorry, but I really gotta take this. I’ll see you later,” she apologized, giving his arm an apologetic squeeze. He watched as she picked up her phone, a huge smile appearing on her face. Daniel was left perplexed by the whole situation.

The second to give it a shot was Lando. He saw the perfect opportunity to spend some time with her when all the other drivers were busy with media duties. After one of the McLaren mechanics informed him that she was sitting on the pit wall by herself, he grabbed two cherry Cokes and went on his way. When he saw her, she was on a video call with someone. He couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but he could feel her happiness radiating from her. He slowed down his steps, not wanting to interrupt her. When Amira turned and saw him standing there, she quickly ended her call, not without sending a kiss to the other person. Lando, confused by this gesture, stood frozen in his spot. Amira walked towards him with a little skip in her step. “Lando! I’m so happy to see you,” she greeted him with a sweet kiss on his right cheek. This sweet kiss made Lando forget to ask her about her phone call. Instead, he started complimenting her looks and led her to a more shaded spot, not wanting her to get a heat stroke.

The last one to try to find out who was catching her attention all day was Charles. Due to the heat, the race was delayed, and the drivers spent their spare time in their motorhomes. At the same time, England was playing against Serbia, and Amira was fully engrossed in the match. After hearing the other drivers talk about Amira’s unusual behaviour, Charles decided to see if he could figure out what was going on. He found her in front of the TV, the match already in full swing.

“Bonjour, jolie fille,” Charles greeted her. “Can I sit here?” he asked, gesturing towards the sofa she was sitting on. Her only reply was a distracted “Mhm,” her eyes glued to the screen, following her boyfriend. “So I’ve heard that you’re a bit distracted today. There’s nothing wrong with that, don’t get me wrong. But I just wanted to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, yo—” Before Charles could finish his sentence, Amira let out a joyous scream. “¡Vamos, carajo! ¡Gracias, Santa María! ¡Gracias, Dios! ¡Muéstrales quién es el jefe!” she shouted, flinging herself into Charles’s arms. A flabbergasted Charles held the ecstatic woman in his arms. Carlos, who also heard the scream, immediately ran into the room. “What’s wrong? What happened? I heard yelling, did you hurt yourself?” he asked worriedly. Amira ran into her brother’s arms, placing her hands on his cheeks and turning his face towards hers. “Un gol. Un gol fenomenal, Carlitos. Hoy está que arde,” was all she said before sitting back down. All Charles and Carlos could do was share a confused look with each other. While the two Ferrari drivers shared the look with eahc-other, Amira was over the moon by the goal her boyfriend shot.

____________________________

The match took all of Amira’s energy. In her opinion, the only right thing to do was take a “short nap.” While the young woman had her beauty sleep, the drivers held a quiet meeting in the room next to hers (Carlos’s driver’s room). “What if something is wrong?” asked Lewis. “Why would she smile so much if something were wrong?” countered an annoyed Max. “Oh, so just because you’re the current world champion, you’re also the woman whisperer, or what?” Lando shot back, glaring at Max. Before a fight could break out, Carlos stepped between the two drivers. “Enough. If all you do is fight, you can pack your bags and leave. There’s the door,” Carlos gestured to the door. Charles took them all by surprise when he loudly said, “There’s the door, bitch!” For a second, Carlos and Charles shared an amused look. They truly had the best bond anyone could have.

“You know,” started Oscar, “when my mom feels like my little sister is behaving weird, she always checks her phone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s right. However, it helped her find some problems.” For a moment, all the drivers stopped talking. Before anyone could say anything, Carlos said, “Alright, let’s do it.” “Chilli, you can’t possibly do this. This is an invasion of her privacy,” Charles protested. “Charles, for all we know, she could be buying drugs from the black market. I have to make sure everything is alright.” With that, he and Lando quietly entered Carlos’s driver’s room, leaving a confused Charles behind.

Lando stopped in his tracks when he saw the beauty that is Amira Sainz. There was truly no situation where the woman didn’t look breath-taking. Lando, lost in his thoughts, stumbled when Carlos punched his shoulder. “Lando, if you’re only here to look at my sister, so help me God,” Carlos whispered a warning. His friend moved towards him, helping Carlos unlock Amira’s phone. At first glance, nothing seemed unusual. Her wallpaper was the usual picture of a baby sea otter. As always, there were millions of notifications from social media. After looking through her phone for several minutes, even going as far as opening Pinterest, Lando said quietly, “See, nothing is wrong, Carlos.” “No, there is one last thing I have to check,” Carlos replied. He opened her messages, seeing the usual texts from their mother and sisters.

However, the conversation with “Jude<3” caught his eye. When he opened the chat, he was met with a sea of red hearts. He saw messages from this Jude person saying things like, “Baby, I miss you so much,” “My love, you have my heart,” and “Darling, you look eternal.” The worst part was that his sister, his innocent little sister, seemed to thrive on the compliments. Carlos, feeling a thousand emotions at once, couldn’t stop himself from expressing his shock loudly.

“What the fu—”

[cottonlemonade]

hii! may i please order a medium pineapple lemonade with extra ice for suna? your work is always so wonderful 🥹🌸

Accidental Confession

word count: 1317 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: rival!Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with some suggestiveness, enemies to lovers

warnings: mdni

request: fluffy-spicy accidental confession with rival Suna

It all started with a meme. If Suna hadn’t taken that picture of you stretching during class and added a little Simba into your hands, you wouldn’t have photoshopped his face onto a mop.

To be fair, his was harmless. Yours was downright rude and so he fell in love immediately.

He followed you around - not as inconspicuously as he might have hoped - to sneak a photo in the most meme worthy moments, flooding his camera roll with dozens and eventually hundreds of snapshots of you. The whole front of a silly little meme war was a great excuse to mask his steadily growing crush and his friends didn’t think anything of it when Suna set a picture of you mid-sneeze as his lock screen. Granted, he himself was still very much in denial about his feelings as well, so it wasn’t that difficult to pretend that he wasn’t bothered when you talked to an upperclassman and laughed loudly at his, undoubtedly, mediocre joke - although Suna did sweep his pencil case off his desk in an attempt to wave Osamu off when he asked if he was okay.

The class groaned when the teacher announced that for the impending field trip they’d be split into teams of two via random lottery. Half the students got assigned a number while the other half drew a little piece of paper from a box held out to them to match with said number. Quiet cheers and not so quiet disappointment could be heard and the teacher called for silence.

Annoyed that he didn’t even get the minuscule chance to work with him, Suna leaned over to Osamu, “Who do you have?” His friend unfolded his paper and turned it over to read.

“5. That’s…”, he craned his neck to check and count, “Y/n, ya?”

“Switch with me.”, Suna said.

“Why? Who do ya have?”

“Don’t care. Come on.”

Osamu frowned and raised an almost disappointed brow.

“What happened to ya, dude? Ya know, yer bein’ real obvious at this point, right?”

Suna rejected the allegations, waited a moment, then simply exchanged his slip of paper with Osamu’s.

“Ya owe me.”, Osamu noted.

“Yeah yeah.”

Meanwhile, you seemed less thrilled about the match and when the bell rang you threw an annoyed look at Suna who gave you a blank stared wave and went to lunch with your friends. He was a very unfortunate long-term crush you had nursed since the beginning of the year and was as handsome as he was annoying. In spite of this, you had a great time complaining about your matched partners over your bentos while enjoying the mellowing summer sun under the shade of a tree.

When the next morning arrived, Suna made sure to be only two minutes late instead of his usual 15, so he could secure the spot next to you on the long drive to Kobe. The class would be headed to the big art museum in the city and as an assignment got a list of 15 art pieces they had to find, like a scavenger hunt. The first team to get a picture from each of their art works would get to choose where to go for lunch.

With a sigh you dropped in the seat next to him, frowning at his sleepy grin. When you only scoffed and looked away, his heart started pounding and he had no idea why. And this wasn‘t a “oh Suna, you‘re just in love, silly“ kinda pounding. No! This was more similar to that one time when he went out for coffee with his friends and instead of admitting that he wanted his favorite - a sickeningly sweet vanilla latte with extra syrup pumps - he ordered an iced Americano with a triple shot because he thought it sounded cool and for hours it had felt as if a tiny panicked bird was trapped in his chest. In short, he concluded, you were not good for his health.

“Alright.”, you said once you turned to him. You stood in the entrance together with the rest of the class, holding the reference paper in hand listing the artwork, “I’ll take the top 8, you take the bottom 7.”

He bit back a comment about how there was nothing “bottom” about him, but one look from you and he was quiet. That icy stare of disdain made him want to do the cooking and the cleaning and ask how your day had been while he finished up the ironing. “Let’s do this.”, he replied and nearly whimpered when you rolled your eyes at him.

With some quick online searching, the artwork was quickly found and the pictures taken. To keep up appearances he snapped a few pics in between of the NPCs in baroque paintings with increasingly weird facial expressions, fully intending to ask, “This you?” the next time he saw you. He could also airdrop them during class and looked forward to receiving a less than flattering emoji or thumbs down.

But now he had a different objective. Excited at the prospect of finally having an excuse to get your number, he jogged through the museum to your previously agreed upon meeting spot, finding you seated and waiting for him on a bench. You were scribbling on a notepad precariously balanced on your knees. He snuck up behind you, leaned in close to your ear and in a low calm voice went, “Boo.”

The yelp you let out had museum goers turn to you and a man with a lanyard, who was guiding a tour, threw an exasperated sigh in your direction.

“You better sleep with one eye open.”, you pressed out through gritted teeth, a deep red tint on your cheeks.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”, he said simply and in one smooth movement sat down next to you.

“So, how do you wanna do this?”, he then asked casually, waiting for you to say the words.

“Just airdrop them to me.”, you frowned.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Luckily his deflated shoulders were masked by his chronically bad posture and he quickly selected the necessary pictures.

Your phone gave a little buzz and you accepted the stack. “That’s all. You’re excused. Go off and do… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I can stay and help, you know? I skimmed some of the plackets.”

“What great work ethic.”, you deadpanned but moved your notepad closer to him so he could see.

With your other hand you swiped through the photos, double checking if you had everything.

He was too busy catching a whiff of your shampoo to notice you furrowing your brow.

“Uhm, Suna.”

You turned your phone screen to him and the blood drained from his face.

It was a picture of you - of course, what else could it have been. You were absently staring out the window in the classroom, your hair a little messy from a regular day of fending for your life in high school. Your chin rested on your palm and the sun shone beautifully against your face. He knew the picture well, because just last night when he couldn’t sleep, he edited it. Black and white hearts bordered the snapshot, a slightly blurry filter gave it a dreamlike feel. He gagged when he saw just how mushy he must have felt to add words around your head. Pookie. Baddie. Loml. My Bbg.

“What kind of prank is this?”, you asked, suspicion clinging to every syllable.

Suna thought.

Telling you that this picture was born out of post-nut hormones would only lead to a somewhat compromising confession that he fondled and humped his body pillow thinking of you, having no problem at all imagining your so very tempting love handles spilling between his fingers.

“Would you believe me if I told you my dog took my phone?“

You stared at him for a moment, then broke into giggles.

a/n: thank you so much for continuing to participate in my events! I’m so happy when someone comes back for more 🥺 I hope you enjoyed this one! 🌟

And once again thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for letting me surf her brain through the storm ✨

[gfmima]

c. ルーロック | blue lock + f!reader t. solving the big question of “what are we?”

reo was dumbfounded. “uh… what do you mean? you’re my girlfriend.”

he shifted his weight against the doorframe of his bedroom, nimble fingers run through his disheveled locks. the gesture mirrors his current state of mind, a habit of his whenever he needed to make sense of a situation he couldn’t understand.

“woah, hold up, i’m your girlfriend?!” he can hear the heavy tinge of disbelief in your voice, the slight tremor in your tone had assured him that you weren’t playing an unfunny prank on him or toying with his emotions.

is he dreaming? what the hell is happening?

his confusion reaches ten-fold. the expression worn spoke a thousand words, the intensity of his gaze was familiar, it mimicked the same face he made whenever he had to cram through his taxation homework. if you took a snapshot of him in this moment, you could edit it to be a reaction meme his friends can laugh over.

“are you sure you’re not my girlfriend?” you nod at him then say, “i think i’d know if i had a boyfriend or not.”

how can you say such a thing when he’d been by your side for months on end? he was rendered speechless. he walked you to class, spent the night at your dorm and vice-versa, and shared countless meals with you. he even introduced you to his parents, a gesture that held weight since it’d take a miracle to sneak himself into their busy schedules.

“are you sure you’re sure ‘cuz this makes no sense? what do you mean you’re not my girlfriend?” he shoots an inquisitive look, brow raised in curiosity.

“for one, you never asked me to be your girlfriend, reo? you didn’t even confess that you felt this way about me…”

wait, what?

he inwardly retraces his steps in search for any memory of a confession. seconds pass then a minute and his face turned red with embarrassment and frustration.

he drew a blank.

“oh...” wearing a sheepish grin, he scratched the nape of his neck. “would you like to be my girlfriend then?”

when people thought of you and nagi, the status of ‘friends’ would be the last to come to mind. any person with working vision can see the dynamic of your relationship went beyond the borders of platonic, there was a connection that ran deeper. his concern for you and your well-being surpass what was expected out of him as your friend.

the term itself proves to be inadequate, to them at least.

it failed to capture the extent of your feelings for each other, the unspoken words exchanged, the stolen glances, and the unyielding longing for one another.

after all, just friends don’t send “good morning” and “good night” texts on a daily basis; just friends don’t gingerly kiss each other on the cheek as a greeting; just friends don’t experience a twinge of disappointment and bitterness when one of them goes on a date; just friends don’t embrace one another a little longer than necessary; and just friends don’t feel their hearts skip a beat at the sight of the other’s smile and and the sound of the other’s laughter.

most of all, just friends don’t cuddle in the way you two did. and that fact lingers in the air between you. lightly nudging him, you hope to rouse a answer from him. instead he gives you an annoyed groan, and an even louder one escapes after he heard your question.

“tired, mostly sleepy.”

“i’m being serious! what are we?” tone laced with a touch of playfulness. a stream of consciousness flickered in his eyes, momentarily breaking through his fatigue. a coy grin tugs at the corner of his lips, as the grogginess melts away, and replaces his initial annoyance.

nagi draws your body close to his chest then wraps his arm around your torso, enveloping you in a warm hold. his voice, softened by his affection for you, murmurs near your ear, “we’re… whatever you want us to be.” he tucks his chin over your shoulder then looks up and meets your gaze. “happy?”

[drdemonprince]

At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 

I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 

He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 

I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 

He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 

He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 

People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 

I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 

I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 

From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 

I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.

I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 

I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 

All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 

I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 

I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (6)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One

Hi it's been a fucking minute since I updated this one orz thank you so much for your patience, y'all

Anyway, this fic was line-jumped, and it's one of two jumps I received on kofi. If you'd like to learn more about line-jumping your favorite series, you can read this post

There are three memes at the end for you <3

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

---

The first time Steve got expelled, his father picked him up from school while his mother stayed to chat with the principal. He was twelve at the time, confused about what he'd done wrong, and feeling validated by his father's ecstatic praise of his initiative.

He'd wound up in Grandmama's kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the island while Wednesday added spider legs to a mixing bowl. Fester had gone off the find Gomez after telling Wednesday to keep an eye on Steve. She'd immediately turned away after Fester left the room.

"So," she said, idly stirring, "you've been expelled. What for?"

"I brought rattlesnakes to class."

"Why?"

"We were learning about snakes. I thought the teacher would appreciate live examples."

"How many?"

"Twenty seven. One for each student."

"Did they bite anyone?"

"No," Steve said, frowning and not bothering to conceal his disappointment at the fact.

"That's a shame."

Steve nodded, watching Wednesday for a few minutes before asking, "What are you making?"

"A cake for Joel."

"Why?"

"He insists on celebrating our anniversary."

"What kind is it?"

"Cinnamon with walnuts."

Steve thought for a moment, trying to figure out why that specific combination sounded familiar. Finally, he said, "I thought Joel was allergic to those."

"He is allergic to many things," Wednesday said, looking over her shoulder to smirk at Steve. "But especially cinnamon and walnuts."

"How come you're making it then?"

"To make sure he remembers how breathless I made him when we first met."

Steve thought that might be one of the most romantic things he's ever heard. He carefully filed the idea away in the back of his mind, hoping he'd one day find someone with an allergy severe enough to use it.

-------------------------

Eddie can't stop looking at Steve's parents, his gaze moving between the two as he tries to figure out how the fuck they ended up together. He feels like someone is about to jump out and tell him he's on a prank show. What else could describe the sheer polar opposite natures of Steve's parents?

Debbie looks exactly like the kind of woman who'd live in a Barbie Dream House: blonde, perfect makeup, pastel dress, the refined air that just hovers around her. Fester, however, looks like he belongs next door. Eddie had noticed how pale he was the first time they met, but he's positively corpse-like now that Steve and Debbie are around for comparison.

He'd almost believe Steve wasn't their child if not for the fact that Eddie can see every way he is. Steve might look like Debbie on the outside, but he's undoubtedly an Addams on the inside. He has Debbie's fashion sense and air of elegance. his eyes get the same crazed light sometimes that Fester's do when Debbie speaks, and the words they speak are similar.

"Eddie," Debbie says, snapping him out of his thoughts. At some point, he'd started staring at Steve, and he feels his cheeks flush at getting caught. "Steve tells me you play guitar. Did you recently learn?"

Oh. Eddie feels his shoulders relax some at the familiar topic. "My mom taught me when I was younger. She used to play for me whenever I had nightmares."

"She doesn't play for you anymore?" Debbie asks, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork.

"Oh, uh, she died a few years ago," Eddie says, smiling apologetically for such a downer of a topic. "Cancer, you know."

"That must have been excruciating," Steve says, a soft sigh accompanying his words, and Eddie isn't sure if he's sympathetic or jealous.

Debbie nods as she inspects her chicken closely before putting it in her mouth, her eyes narrowing slightly as she chews. "I said no poisoning the food, dear," she says, looking at Fester with a somewhat strained smile.

"Aww, it's just a nightshade reduction, Mother. We didn't even put any on Eddie's plate," Steve says.

Now that Eddie is actually paying attention, he realizes the dark sauce drizzled across their chicken is missing from his own. "Why don't I have any?" he asks, figuring it can't really be a nightshade sauce.

"You haven't worked your way up to nightshade yet," Fester explains, his eyes lighting up as he adds, "But don't worry! We're getting you started with just a dash of chalk in your rice."

Eddie blinks, glancing down at the half-eaten rice on his plate. He didn't notice anything weird about it, so maybe they're joking. But then he hears Debbie's put-upon sigh. "Fester, dear?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I'd make you sleep in the doghouse, but you'd just enjoy it."

"Eddie doesn't mind, I'm sure," Steve says, looking at Eddie with a smile that makes his heart speed up and his palms sweat. "It's okay if you do, though. Just be honest."

"I don't mind," Eddie replies, wondering where the words come from. If he'd been anywhere else, with anyone else, he'd definitely be losing his mind over a light poisoning. Somehow, though, he can't bring himself to be that upset about it. Maybe, if he tries hard enough, he'll even build enough of an immunity to kiss Steve when he's wearing that raspberry lip gloss.

The blinding smile he gets in return eases any lingering doubts he might have. Steve leans close enough for their shoulders to brush, Eddie's skin tingling through the fabric of his sleeve. "We Addams are experts at acclimating people to poisons. You'll be enjoying nightshade in no time," he says, his voice light and reassuring like Eddie was somehow impatient.

And then, without thinking, Eddie's eyes glance down at Steve's lips. They have a suspicious sheen to them, and Eddie's only half-certain he's not imagining the artificial raspberry scent. "What, uh, what about raspberries?" he asks, the words tumbling out before he can stop them.

If anything, Steve's smile just gets wider. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he replies, his tongue briefly swiping across his bottom lip.

Eddie looks away and grabs his glass, gulping down half the water inside before he says anything monumentally stupid in front of Steve's parents.

"Steve, stop torturing Eddie. You know that's dessert conversation," Debbie says, her voice light and breezy.

Steve sighs and pulls away. "Sorry," he says, not looking the least bit apologetic at all. In fact, he even glances at Eddie again and smiles, eyebrows raised slightly, and Eddie thinks he's about to die of thirst.

"Eddie," Fester says, mercifully giving him a reason to look away from Steve and try to gain some semblance of chill. "What are your interests?" Fester glances at Debbie, practically preening when she smiles and offers him a subtle, approving nod.

"Well, uh, music. I like heavy metal and play in a band. Dungeons and Dragons, too. I play that with my friends."

"Dungeons, you say?" Fester asks, suddenly looking more invested in the conversation. "What's your favorite kind? I'm partial to the French Revolution era dungeons myself."

"You just like the guillotines, Father," Steve says.

"Now that's an instrument of death. Nothing inspires fear like the glint of the blade in the sun, don't you think, Pumpkin?"

"Yes, dear, but you know I'm partial to electric chairs myself."

Steve leans closer again and says, "Mother nearly killed Father's family with electric chairs, you know."

"A splendid attempt it was," Fester adds, looking over with a bright smile.

Eddie glances between all of them, taking in their expressions and trying to figure out if they're being serious. He watches Debbie drag a carrot through dark sauce on her plate; he briefly looks into Fester's eyes and sees the manic joy lying in them; his heart speeds up at Steve's soft and contented smile. Eddie then glances around the dining room. He notes the shotgun placed on the wall with a little plaque beneath that reads "Attempt 12" in flourishing cursive. He looks at the window and sees the black, molded wood of the house next door. He thinks of Nox the spider and Kas the taxidermy rat and the ornate dagger and everything else he's found in his locker.

And he realizes something.

They're serious. They're all completely serious about everything. Steve and Fester weren't joking that first time he came over and they talked about the oven being big enough to fit him and a roast. Steve really has fought all of his siblings and was gifted a trident at his bar mitzvah. Pubert doesn't protect his kidneys.

Okay that last one maybe isn't as important, but it's one Eddie savors nonetheless.

He has two options here. One, he gets the hell out of dodge, makes some strained excuse to leave after dinner and avoids Steve in the hallways and hopes he doesn't wake up buried alive. Two, he embraces it, starts eating a little chalk with every meal, and lets Steve introduce him to whatever freaky shit will earn him another blinding smile.

"So, how did you two meet?" Eddie asks, looking at Fester and Debbie with a smile as he shovels more rice onto his fork.

-------------------------

"I approve."

Steve blinks, and then his mother's words process, and he stands a little straighter. "That's good. Though, I would've been happy to follow in Romeo and Juliet's footsteps if you hadn't."

"You wouldn't even need poison," Fester says, his voice ringing from the kitchen as Steve helps his mother gather up dessert plates. "Just wear the raspberry stuff."

"No star-crossed suicides for you, mister," Debbie says, playfully tapping her finger against Steve's forehead. "Anyway, he's a very nice young man, and he adapted rather quick, don't you think?"

"He thought it was a joke before, but he doesn't think that now. And he didn't run away screaming!"

"Not that you would've minded, I suspect."

"Well, no," Steve agrees, flashing a grin as he puts the plates on the counter next to his father. He then pulls down Tupperware, ready to pack up the leftover chicken and rice.

"He seems like a tough nut to crack, but he's nearly there," Debbie says, leaning against the island with a thoughtful look. "I mean, he seemed ready to do whatever you said at the dinner table."

"Then why hasn't he done anything? Am I being too obvious? Should I play hot and cold?"

"No, I don't think that would work here."

"Just tell him," Fester suddenly says, looking at Steve as he washes a plate. "Wouldn't that be best?"

"Would it?" Steve asks.

Before Debbie can do more than snort derisively, Fester nods. "Just think about it, son. You tell him, but leave it all up to Eddie after that. He'll torture himself trying to build up the courage to even hold your hand, especially if you catch him when he's midway."

Steve can't help the way he lights up at the thought. "That's a great idea! Thanks, Father. I'm gonna go plan my confession right now," he says, disappearing from the kitchen not a moment later.

"When did you get so good at this?" Debbie asks, a little pride tinging her words. When Fester lights up, she decides to reward him that night with an extra ten minutes of cuddling before bed.

----------

Tag List (there's no more room on the list, so please follow the addams family b-side tag to see updates!)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

@jinx-nanami, @solene1324, @nailbatwielder, @y4r3luv, @happylittletrees3, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @itcanbepalped,

And now, some memes:

[xjulixred45x]

When I think about Yandere Gojo I suddenly remember that Veronica open the door meme that used to float around in tiktok. So inspired by that may I pleasw get a Yandere Gojo request where his darling locked themselves in the closet and refusing to come out.

Maybe i could make a Drabble of this one of You're comfortable? This is such a good idea for a scenerio

Thanks for the Request!

Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Reader: Open the Door

-"knock knock"-

Reader had hurriedly entered their apartment, after having run for entire blocks, dodging people and constantly looking behind them since they had managed to leave Gojo's house. The one they were sure had been left unconscious by the seal they had managed to put on him.

But as soon as they heard those words as they closed the door, they knew they had to run again.

and they did it.

-"I'm sorry for entering through your window! Horrible manners, but you know how I am~"-

they heard him speak as he futilely fled to their almost empty room, since most of his things were in Gojo's house, they closed the door and left to the first place that came to their mind--

The closet.

If you can't beat him, at least entertain him so he doesn't kill you. they thought.

Satoru walked slowly towards his partner's room, seeing them without problem through the blindfold. He didn't feel afraid, he wasn't even a little worried, he knew they couldn't run away from him. much less now.

Although he admitted it, watching them try even knowing how futile it is was quite funny, look at them, pretty little thing, thinking they have a chance, hiding in the closet like a scared child. But there's nothing to worry about! He is here after all.

He entered to the room, turning his back to them as he sat on the floor.

-"Now now, (reader), why don't you just go out and we go home? You must be hungry after having run so much."-

-"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!! THE DEPARTMENT ALARM RINGED AND THE POLICE WILL COME!"-

-"we'll be gone by then..come on! you had your moment of "freedom"! come out and we'll forget about this-"--"why?"- (reader) abruptly cut off Satoru, surprising him, but no more than their question. .

-"Why what?...no, wait, I know what you mean"-

Satoru never understood many of his partner's actions.

The feeling was mutual.

Why did they reject his affection? Why didn't they see that he did all this for them? Why don't they just accept that they are meant to be his?

...why was Satoru doing this to them?

-"I am meant to be yours... and you are meant to be MINE...I am everything you need!"-

Satoru was a little surprised to receive no response after that. So he continued talking, waiting for a reaction or at least, that they would get fed up with what he was saying and respond to him.

-"I FINALLY met someone who gives me these kinds of emotions... even if you don't like this I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP ON YOU" - Satoru expected to hear even a sob from (the reader) but he was greeted again by the silence of the aisle..

-"You KNEW that I couldn't live without you! YOU forced me to do this! I can't do it alone! Why is it so HARD for you to accept me?!"- Satoru said as he turned around abruptly, losing his patience.

But then he noticed something that made him feel a strange sensation in his stomach, as he saw that through the closet door, (reader)'s body temperature was decreasing....

NO.....

-"(READER)!- open the- open the door please! (READER)! open the door!"-

No response.

-"(READER) can we forget that this happened and go back home? Can you say something...?"-

Satoru was in front of the closet doors, with his hands shaking as he tried to get (Reader) to answer him without success. He could see they were there but something was very wrong...

-"(READER) YOU'RE SCARED! I GET IT! NOW STOP THE TRICKS AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"- Satoru stood up from his kneeling position and prepared himself in case (reader) moved. They did not.

-"(READER) DON'T MAKE ME GET IN THERE! I'M GOING TO COUNT TO 3!!--

1-

2--

FUCK IT!"

Satoru didn't even have to move a muscle for the closet door to shatter in front of him, leaving (reader) exposed.

-"THE GAMES ARE OVER!"-

(Reader) had put a belt around their neck as tight as possible to try to kill themselves.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Satoru broke the belt too. They were practically unconscious, barely breathing, but it was fine. They were going to be fine.

Satoru felt that strange feeling disappear and a soft sensation came to him. Seeing them so helpless, he stretched out his hand and caressed their cheek lovingly.

Aw...what a scare they gave him...he will definitely have to take care of them more now. Maybe spend more time with them so they don't feel bad, especially after this, they're going to need it. Both.

-"NOW...let's go home, shall we?"-

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[partycatty]

Right hear me out on the new johnny skin

Please can you write something for this ugly bitch the shock worn off and now im delusional

(Im sorry for asking for this he just looks so stupid i couldnt not)

I HATE YOU FOR REMINDING ME OF THIS ALLGAHJGIAKG

johnny cage > carrot

oh my god he looks like a carrot

warnings: look at him.

[ masterlist ]

you're sitting on johnny's couch, as it's become a regular occurrence for you to waste your time in his home. your phone becomes your best friend nearly every time, as his career of being a celebrity commonly rips his attention from you more than you're happy with. your bubbling frustration with the situation dies down when you hear his front door unlock.

"babe," he calls through the cracked door. his voice is high pitched, like he's hiding something and ashamed about it. "i-i need you to do me a favor."

"yeah?" you reply, eyes still transfixed on your phone for the moment.

"i lost a bet," he shamefully admits. "and i need you to not laugh. if you laugh, i will die."

"you'll die?" you repeat, now intrigued by whatever he's on about. he falls silent, the door barely opening more.

"baby," he tries to sound sweet but it sounds closer to him being on the verge of tears. "is it true... that thing... where like, you lose feelings if your man gets one bad haircut?"

oh, no.

"depends," you shrug, making your way to the door. "if you buzzed it, i won't be able to look at you until it grows back."

"i didn't... buzz it," he mutters. "it's... please don't laugh."

his dodging is starting to confuse and annoy you, so you walk over and pull the door completely open. the sight in front of you pulls a horrified gasp, which then turns into amusement like you've never seen. johnny's hair was gone on the sides, and a vomit-green wisp sat on top. johnny frowns with large eyes. it kind of reminds you of that really sad hamster meme. maybe if you focused enough you could imagine sad violin music at the scene.

"jo—" your attempt at saying his name comfortingly is ripped apart when a snort creeps up on you, and you slap a hand over your mouth. tears well up in your eyes as you fight for your life to not laugh.

"don't," he pleads, arms flopping to his sides. "don't laugh."

you let out a cackle through your hand, slapping another hand over it in a stupid attempt to hold it in.

"it's not funny—" in a while, you think, it wouldn't be. sure, he has the haircut, but you're the one looking at it regularly. "it's not funny."

"you're laughing. i will die."

"how in the genuine fuck did this come to be." your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of your skull from straining yourself so hard. johnny can't even look at you as he explains.

"kung lao and i made a bet that i could cut more fruit than him with his hat."

"you bet your appearance on a hat that's not yours."

"it didn't look that hard! it's a sharp hat!"

"okay, so how did the... haircut come to be??"

"he..." johnny rubs his face, groaning. "he had me walk into a barber and told the guy to fuck my shit up. he said that to the barber. oh my god i look like an idiot, don't i."

"you..." you search for something, anything to compliment him on. your eyes settle on his orange button-up and you stifle a snort. "you kind of look like a carrot."

johnny pulls his head up to meet your eyes. "what."

"it's... it's kinda cute," you murmur with the most strained grin of your life. you step forward and grab the entirety of the hair left on his head, tugging upward. "it's like... plucking you from the soil."

"ow. you're an asshole," he adds, not entirely serious. you try so hard to keep it together, so hard. but his furrowed brows, frown, and carrot-coordinated outfit finally make you snap. you double over in laughter, similar to a hyena. it is quite literally the funniest thing you'd ever seen in your entire life and you laugh so hard you lose your breath.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" johnny pouts, stomping his foot and crossing his arms while you howl and slap him around as you try to ground yourself. "I LOOK LIKE A DUMBASS."

"OH MY GOD I'M LOSING IT, I'M GONNA THROW UP— YOU LOOK LIKE A CARROT —"

"STOP SAYING THAT."

[lastoneout]

Okay, honest question, who is Yotsuba?

OH HO HO ANON I AM ALL TOO HAPPY TO EXPLAIN :3

Yotsuba is a character from the greatest manga ever made, Yotsuba&!(or Yotsuba to! it translates weird, most fans just call it Yotsuba) which is a comedy slice-of-life manga about Yotsuba Koiwai, a five year old girl, and her very strange yet wholesome family and friends!

It's from the same mangaka who gave us Azumanga Daioh, though while that manga is told in a four-panel comic style and doesn't really have much of an overarching plot, Youtsuba is done in a traditional manga style and despite also being very episodic there is a bit of a throughline surrounding Youtsuba getting settled into the neighborhood she just moved to, growing up, and eventually, in the later chapters, getting ready to go to school for the first time. Also, there are storylines that take place over multiple chapters as well! Despite the fact that the manga has been releasing since 2003, the chapters are pretty sporadic and the comic has only really covered about one year of the character's lives, but it never really feels slow or aimless. It feels almost...timeless? I guess. It's really nice.

Anyway, the manga is legit one of the most wholesome, funny, heartwarming things I have ever read. Kiyohiko Azuma is a fucking MASTER of comedy(you may have seen screencaps from a Sailor Moon fan comic he made going around on tumblr in which Jupiter accidentally sends Venus shooting across a pool that made me laugh so hard I cried) and he balances it well with lots of slow moments with GORGEOUS artwork where you can really take in the scenery and all of it is seeped in a wonderful nostalgia for childhood that legit makes me super emotional.

I don't think the manga has ever really taken off in terms of popularity, at least not to the degree that it deserves imo, which is likely in part due to the creator being firm about it never getting an anime adaptation and the sporadic release schedule, but it's far from unknown. There's been an official(I think??) score released and plenty of figurines and merch. It's also birthed a lot of memes, and it def has the same issue as One Piece where if you read it and love it you will turn into a walking billboard and try to drag your friends and family in with you. It's just THAT good!

You may have seen art of or people cosplaying Danbo, a "robot" made of old cardboard boxes that Yotsuba adores (Totally a real robot btw, def doesn't have a middle schooler shoved inside there, that would be silly wdym /s)

And this pose from the back of one of the manga volumes featuring Yotsuba, her father, and their extremely tall friend Jumbo has been redrawn with other characters like 500000 billion times

And you've also probably seen this going around tumblr before (that's Fūka she's my favorite cringe fail daughter I would literally die for her).

Also, I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Yanda, who is a friend of Yotsuba's dad and also Yotsuba's nemesis. He's a loser who constantly gets dunked on by a toddler it's fucking hilarious.

But yeah it really is just like, a manga that feels like a hug, or a warm blanket or something, it's so comforting and funny and fantastic, I find myself re-reading it any time life gets to be too hard just bcs it's that good at distracting me and reminding me that live is worth living.

And also given that it's literally my favorite manga, I saved up a bunch of screencaps to use as reaction images after a read one time, and thus now it's my own little joke that if you send me anon hate I'm just gonna send you back a picture of this cutie

Bcs come on how can you be angry when you're looking at this???

Anyway here's some screencaps of the main supporting cast bcs I love all of them so much <3

YOU WILL READ YOTSUBA I AM NO LONGER ASKING