#screaming meals imagines

[gothicwidowsworld]

First kiss M.A

Warning: literally based of my first kiss experience, yes i know its embarrassing but also fucking hilarious also couldn’t find a gif from the episode i wanted so have this instead :)

“I… I don’t understand how I keep getting roped into this shit.” the y/h/c young woman grumbled loudly taking a sip of some leftover French chardonnay. The chardonnay had been an unexpected but welcomed surprise, after complaining a few episodes ago about the sheer amount of reds that were featured the wannabe sommelier Clément Novalak made sure to select a white for the girl. Clem had probably dropped the name of the province the golden liquid had come from during his spell about aged oak barrels and the apricot orange-peel floral notes but in this exact moment Y/N could not have cared less. 

“Because you love spending time with us.” Marcus replied, shooting the girl a cocky smile as his honey eyes captured her familiar y/e/c over his sunglasses. “Debatable.” Y/N hummed snarkily. “Clem is bearable at times, but you two….” Y/N gestured at the two Kiwi boys before trailing off taking another sip from her sadly rapidly emptying glass. “I’m going to take that as the compliment I’m hoping it was intended to be.” The French driver mumbled, absentmindedly readjusting his bow-tie.  “Aw you know I love you Clemmie” the y/s/c young woman exclaimed in a sing-song tone playfully throwing her free arm around the tuxedo donned man. “And yet no love for me… not even a little. What kind of girlfriend are you!” Marcus moaned in disbelief at the long-time friendship being rubbed in his face. “Oh quit whining and get on with it.” Y/N sassily retaliated rolling her eyes at the Kiwi’s hysterics. 

“Fine.” Marcus grumbled, however he struggled to hold back the building smile. If there was one thing Marcus sucked at it was hiding his emotions. It didn’t take a genius to work out how he felt about the young woman. From the way his soft golden hazel eyes would sparkle to the small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a growing grin. “I meant to ask Max during the podcast but I never got around to it, so when and where is your first kiss.” Marcus continued, still slightly kicking himself that he’d forgotten to ask such a juicy question to Max ‘rejected him 26 times’ Fewtrell himself. “We can re-divert!” James stated quickly a smug grin beginning to form, the grin targeted towards the F2 Driver dropped quickly when Clem expertly deflected the question “Actually James when was your first kiss.” The Frenchman asked. “It was in Whangamatā actually in 2013.” The dark blond began setting the scene. “2013?!” Y/N coughed out choking slightly on a sudden giggle. If she did the maths quickly that meant James hadn’t kissed anyone until he was sixteen. This new found knowledge practically obliterated the cool suave Bond-like demeanour James had built up. There wasn’t anything wrong with saving your first kiss, absolutely nothing wrong with going at your own pace. But Y/N had known James since he was 18 and the idea that James could probably have somewhat confidently chugged a weak beer before even locking lips with a girl was mind blowing. Shooting the older man an apologetic smile Y/N continued listening to James retelling of probably one of his most awkward life milestones. “Did you give her a wee pecker.. Or was it a slobbery kiss?” Marcus quizzed his fellow countryman, enjoying the growing bashfulness coming from his mate.

Soon it became clear it was Y/N turn to share her recollection of her first kiss. She wished she could lie and say she simply didn’t remember but knowing Marcus well she knew the Kiwi wouldn’t let it go, especially if he thought it could potentially be a little embarrassing. Groaning Y/N pondered for a second, placing her wine glass down and tucking her legs neatly beneath her. Adjusting her hoodie she racked her brains, the Screaming Meals Trio were some of her closest friends but there were still some things the girl didn’t feel needed to be shared and reliving certain parts of her childhood was one of them. Boy looking back Y/N was embarrassed enough, she didn’t need the trio pissing themselves laughing. So, what about your first kiss Y/N/N ?” the French native asked, his narrowed dark hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “Marcus didn’t have to share his so why should I?” Y/N frowned, narrowing her eyes playfully at the Kiwi sat directly across from her. “Well firstly mine wasn’t that interesting, secondly it’s my show.” Marcus called out, poking his tongue out a little at his reasoning.  

“Ok first kiss.” Y/N began pausing for a second. “Like first proper kiss when you were aware of what was happening?” Y/N asked slowly hoping for some clarity, her head tilt in slight confusion. 

“Woah woah woah how many guys have you kissed that you ‘weren't aware of?’” Marcus objected loudly shuffling forward from his relaxed position, emphasizing his point with air quotes. Marcus wouldn’t call himself jealous, in fact that’s one of the last words he’d ever associate with himself, but the idea that there could potentially be a list of guys who’d kissed his girlfriend before him was difficult. The Kiwi Driver couldn’t help the surfacing insecurity, I mean what if (god forbid)  they were better kissers than him? “Don’t be gross Marcus… I mean like I don't want to say 4 or 5 mate… I barely remember it other than he’d been nagging me for ages and apparently he was no longer satisfied with my sadistic self only letting him kiss the bottom of my foot…” 

Stifling a giggle at the mixture of reactions from the boys Y/N shrugged as if her statement was beyond normal. “Also sorry Greg if that made you realise you had a foot fetish or something….” The girl added, reaching to collect her previously abandoned glass. “Uh… ok so what about your first proper kiss then?” Clem managed to ask, the Frenchman still slightly frozen in shock. “Um I was in year four so like 8… oh god…” Y/N trailed off cringing at the memory of this relationship. Hell could she even class it as a relationship? It hadn’t lasted that long, but it had been her first real exposure to boys. The boy in question had been the popular boy at school, all the girls had wanted him and he’d picked her. Something young Y/N had been so immensely proud of. 

“I’m probably going to regret asking this but how old was he?” James interrupted hesitantly, a look of concern filling his pale features. “I think. I think maybe 11? Oh fuck that’s  questionably dodgy.” the young woman groaned in realisation. “That’s like mega dodgy… 10 shades of dodgy.” the insurance broker agreed quickly, running a hand over his face. Silence fell over the small group. You could probably have heard a pin drop, or the sharp intake of breath from an extremely baffled Kiwi named Marcus Armstrong. “Jesus Y/N/N I think I can hear some police sirens.” Marcus exclaimed, clearing his throat, all the brown haired driver got in response was a half-hearted shrug. “Well you wanted something interesting?” the y/h/c girl replied simply. 

#gothicwidow #imagines #marcus armstrong imagines #marcus armstrong x reader #f2 imagines #screaming meals imagines #screaming meals x reader #f2 x reader #clement novalak imagines #clement novalak x reader #formula two imagines #formula two x reader #au imagines

[sinofwriting]

My Wife - Formula 1 Drivers

Words: 1,263 Summary: Or the first time they call you their wife, except you guys aren’t married. Note(s)/Warnings(s): This does not feature every f1 driver, but just the ones I’m currently writing for/could think of ideas for. These are just little blurbs of when I think they would slip up and call you their wife for the first time. Mainly fluff, but Pierre’s is NSFW, because well it’s Pierre.

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon 

Pierre Gasly

“So good for me, amor.” Pierre groans, a hand resting on the back of her head, careful not to curl his fingers into her hair as she sucks him off. “Feels so good.” He moans when her fingers dig into his thighs a bit. “Just like that.” She pulls off him, pressing a kiss to the tip before looking up at him. “Fuck my mouth, Pierre.” His dick twitches at the idea, the thought, hips even jutting up, but he shakes his head. “Non. You told me not to ruin your hair, I listen to the not cock drunk you.” She sticks out her bottom lip, but it doesn’t sway him. He knew better than to fuck with her hair when she didn’t want him too and the fact that she hadn’t said anything to him calling her cock drunk made him aware it was true.

When he still doesn’t make a move, she presses her bottom lips out a bit more for a brief second before taking him back into her mouth. The feeling makes his head tilt back with a moan. “So good for me.” He repeats. “Such a good wife to me.” The words make her moan around him and the vibrations have him swearing, free hand curling into the sheets as he nearly cums.

Liam Lawson:

She laughs as she feels Liam mumble something against her neck. She was all too used to his drunken mumbles pressed against her skin. Though it’d been awhile since he was so sloshed that she couldn’t make out a single thing from his mumbling.

“What was that, love?” She asks, reaching a hand awkwardly behind her to run fingers through his hair. “Wife.” He mumbles, “Wife.” Her eyebrows furrow. “Wife?” He nods, planting a kiss that’s more tongue to her neck making her shudder. “Wife. Such a good, amazing wife.” A small laugh leaves her and she feels more than hears the whine he lets out. “Who makes a good wife?” She asks, wishing she had her phone with her and it wasn’t on the charge. This would be such a good drunken Liam ramble to capture. “You.” He whines, pressing closer to her, hands clumsy pushing up her shirt so they can rest on the bare skin of her stomach. “You're such a good wife. My wife.” He mumbles and she can feel his grin pressed to her skin, before he bites lightly making her jump. “My wife.” She lets out another laugh gently patting his hands, hoping that in his drunken state he can’t tell how much he’s flustered her. “Okay, love. I’m your wife.”

Charles Leclerc:

“I met her.” Pascale raises an eyebrow at the non-greeting. It was unlike her Charles, but the slight reverent breathlessness to his voice makes her give him a pass on not having manners as she turns to rearrange the cupboard. “Met who?” “I met her, maman. My wife.” “Oh,” her heart thuds a little painfully in her chest. She had heard Charles love, but this was in love and it made her wish that Herve was here to also get to see and hear it. Shutting the cupboard door, she takes a seat at the dining table, pressing the phone a little firmer to her ear. “Tell me all about her.”

Lando Norris:

“Where’d you get the plant?” Lando reads aloud, before glancing back at the new addition to his streaming background. “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask the wife,” he immediately stops face showing horror before quickly correcting. “Girlfriend, girlfriend, chat! I did not get married. I do not want a call from my mother wondering why I’ve suddenly eloped.”

Oscar Piastri:

“Hey, babe. Can you call my phone. I’ve lost it?” Her eyebrows raise as she stares at it poking out from underneath a magazine on the dining table, but pulling out her own phone she calls it. She presses her lips together when he curses when it rings not in the bedroom where he is, but rather out in the living area.

Walking out of the bedroom, he easily spots the now ringing phone on the dining table, scowling at it, before scooping it up and hitting end.

“Wait, what do you have my contact as?” She asks, having only caught a glimpse of it, but it wasn’t her name. His eyes widen and he shrugs, slipping the device into his pocket. “I don’t know.” “Oscar.” She steps a little closer. “What do you have me under?” “What do you have me under?” He parrots back. Her tongue presses into her cheek for a moment. “Os, my love.” “What?” She laughs, shaking her head. “No, that’s what I have you as. Os, my love. Comma and everything.” “Oh,” he murmurs, feeling his cheeks growing warm and suddenly his contact name for her isn’t embarrassing. “Wife. I’ve got you under as wife.” “Os,” her voice is soft and he feels himself flush more. “You’re so sweet.” She tells him, before kissing him.

Daniel Ricciardo:

“Any plans for the break?” Daniel smiles at the interviewer, “Not really. I’ll be back in the factory for some testing and such. But the wife and I might end up in LA for a few days. Meet up with some friends.” “The wife? Well things must be getting serious.” “Just a little.” He holds up fingers that are just barely not touching, before laughing and dropping his hand. “Nah, it’s very serious. Can’t really be with someone for three years and it not be serious.” “You’d be surprised, Daniel. You’d be surprised.”

Logan Sargeant:

Logan watches as his cousin, Tyler, blushes when she bends down to press a kiss to his cheeks, quickly running back to his mom and hiding behind her legs.

“He’s so sweet.” She murmurs to Logan when she joins him, looking at the flowers the four year old had given to her. “Do I have some competition?” She sends him an annoyed look before nodding. “Yes. Tyler was very sweet, giving me flowers and asking me to marry him.” His mouth drops open. He hadn’t been able to hear what Tyler had said to her or what she had said back, but marry him? “But you're my wife.” She snorts at the whine in his voice and the way he’s wrapping himself around her.

“Really? Cause I don’t see a ring on her finger.” “Mom!” Logan protests, straightening a bit, cheeks turning pink. “She does have a point. I mean, no ring.” She wiggles her left ring finger, exchanging a grin with Logan’s mom. “I can’t believe I’m losing to a four year old.” He groans, resting his head on her shoulder as she laughs.

Max Verstappen:

Max grins at Thomas. The two had karted together when Max had first started and it had been a good few years since they saw each other. It was pure chance that they were even running into each other.

“How are you doing?” “I’m good.” Max nods, eyes catching on the girl walking towards him with a small smile on her face, and he quickly wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. “Been better with this one, actually. Thomas, this is my wife.” Her head snaps towards him, barely hearing her name and she just barely manages to extend a hand out to shake Max’s old friend's hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.” “You as well. I had no idea that you got married, Max. Keeping it private?” Max flushes, his words finally catching up to him but before he can stutter and stammer in his way through an explanation, she replies. “Something like that.”

---

Tagging: @cixrosie @gemofthenight @darleneslane @copper-boom @peachiicherries @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @Benstormy

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #pierre gasly imagine #liam lawson imagine #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #oscar piastri imagine #daniel ricciardo imagine #logan sargeant imagine #max verstappen imagine #this was so fun to do #have a part twoer in the works but with the screaming meals boys and callum ilott

[httpiastri]

drunk on you – cn21

when clement gets a little drunk on a night out, he feels a need to confess his feelings to his best friend’s little sister.

pairing: armstrong!reader x clement novalak

genre: fluff, mentions of suggestive but not much

warnings: alcohol mentions, nothing else

author's note: already missing my boys 💔 this is a lot of dialogue and not a lot else. hope u still like it though <3

f2/f3 masterlist

"little armstrong!"

you know the owner of the voice long before you see him. his voice always brought butterflies to your stomach. plus, no one else insisted on calling you that as often as he did.

you turn your head to look to your side, spotting clement standing right outside the door to the club. his hands are dug into his pockets as he watches you with an unreadable expression. "you truly are the most gorgeous thing in this entire city tonight. you know that, right?"

"i do know that. thank you."

"your dress is lovely, too." he takes a few steps closer to you. "though, it would look even better on the floor of my hotel room."

you roll your eyes, but you can't hold back the little grin growing on your lips. "that line is so overused, i can't believe you just said that."

"well, i might be just a little tipsy..."

"oh, really?" the irony is clear in your voice as you watch him stumble up to you, his lips showing off an intoxicated smile. "how much champagne have you had, hm?"

"just... a few glasses?" you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks through his night, but he's far too drunk to remember. "enough to come out here and flirt with you, anyway."

"flirt with me, huh?" you chuckle and shove his shoulder. "and why would you do that?"

"because i'm head over heels for you, obviously."

you snort. "i'm definitely telling marcus about this. he's going to tease you for weeks."

your comment doesn't scare him – in fact, he looks even more amused than before. "tell your brother all you want. i love making him happy," he says, raising his eyebrows. "don't think you'll want to tell him about what we're gonna do back in my hotel room, though."

he takes one more step closer, and now he's practically towering over you. you lean back against the glass wall as if to create some distance, but it's helpless; he's just inches away, the heat practically radiating off his body. his warm breath on your face and his hand that lands on your hip leaves you completely flustered. "you're too drunk for this," you manage to get out, blinking up at him.

he shakes his head. "you're talking as if you don't want this."

"i don't."

"oh, please. you've wanted me since the first time you laid your eyes on me."

it's getting harder and harder to keep your cool, especially when his eyes are shamelessly checking you out, following every dip and curve of your body. you've never been this near him, at least not in a situation like this. have his eyes always been this beautiful? or is the alcohol in your body just making you see him in a new light?

he was right, of course; you had fallen for him quite soon after meeting him for the first time. how could you not when he was sweet, funny, and insanely handsome?

however, you couldn't just give in this easily. especially not when he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. "you have no idea what you're talking about."

he pauses for a moment. "so if i were to kiss you right now," his hand travels your thigh, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin. "would you stop me?"

your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his fingers along your skin. "i- i didn't say that."

"then what's stopping you from coming back to the hotel with me?"

you take a deep breath, wanting to keep your voice steady, but it's hard to focus when clement's hand keeps moving higher, eventually reaching the edge of your dress. "marcus would kill you if he saw me come out of your room."

"you can sneak back in the morning and pretend you’ve spent the whole night in your room, all innocent and sweet as you usually like to act."

when you pause again and open your eyes to look at him, he has leaned in closer. he takes notice of the way your breath hitches in your throat, the way your mouth hangs slightly open, the way your eyes are basically begging for him to close the distance between you. he cocks an eyebrow at you. "you really want this, don't you?"

"just shut up and kiss me."

clement is not one to disobey orders. his free hand grabs your jaw and you drape your arms around his shoulders as he presses his lips to yours. he tastes of the expensive champagne he's been drinking all night, and it's enough to pull you with him to an intoxicated state. drunk on champagne, drunk on each other.

when you stepped out for some fresh air just minutes before, you did not see this coming. never in a million years did you think you'd be making out with clement novalak, your brother's best friend, right outside a club – and yet, in the moment, it feels so right.

when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours as he speaks. "let me take you back to my room."

"do you remember how i said 'marcus would kill you'?"

"do you remember how you said 'shut up and kiss me'?" there's a massive grin on his lips and you gasp, pinching his shoulder. he leans back slightly, letting out a hearty laugh. "besides, you know your dad would love to have me as his step son. i practically am already."

"you make a good argument, novalak."

he tilts his head and his hand on your thigh makes itself known again by massaging your skin, slowly inching even further up. "so? what's it going to be?"

you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before reaching down to grab his hand. you then practically pull him with you down the street, towards your hotel.

"i'm setting an alarm for six in the morning, and i am sneaking out before anyone finds out," you say – as if your brother and his entire friend group aren't standing inside the club with their mouths hanging wide, having watched you through the glass walls for the past couple of minutes.

#clement novalak #f1 #f2 #formula 1 #formula one #formula 2 #formula two #clement novalak fluff #clement novalak x reader #clement novalak x yn #clement novalak x y/n #clement novalak x you #clement novalak imagine #clement novalak fic #clement novalak fanfic #clement novalak suggestive #screaming meals #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #clement novalak drabble

[the-offside-rule]

Clement Novalak (Mathiesen) - So Poetic

Requested: yes by DeliF1 on wattpad

Prompts: 7) "She is my other half as the poets would say"

Warnings: you may turn into a Clem girly

Another day, another Screaming Meals podcast. Today, the trio had found themselves with a rather special guest; Y/n Y/l/n, the motorsport journalist found herself on the sofa next to her boyfriend. As Marcus scrolled through questions on Instagram, the four joked around as the camera and microphones recorded their interactions; from the pouring of their wine, to the innapropriate jokes being made and it would be edited accordingly.

"Oh, I've got a good question." Marcus said, looking to the couple across from him. "You said before on the podcast, that you're scared of your girlfriend. In what way are you scared of her?" Marcus asks. "Is she into some-"

"I am going to stop you right there!" Clement interjected, making the room erupt into laughter. "I need more wine." Y/n joked, pouring more Pinot into her glass. "No!" Clem said, lunging forward to grab the bottle. "We talked about this." Y/n laughed. "You're making me sound like an alcoholic!" She managed to get out in between the laughs. "I have never felt like such a third wheel." Marcus said. "Is this how you felt when Lissie was on the podcast?" James nodded. "Now it's just me that has to sort out a girlfriend appearance." He joked. "But back to the question, why are you scared of Y/n?" Marcus asked. Clem sighed. "See, I'm not scared of her. I don't think she's capable of hurting me. I think I'm just scared of her determination." Y/n looked at him confused. "What?" She asked.

"I'll give you an example. For the 24 hours of Le Mans, she had to write up a report for the day it finished up. So she stayed up the whole 24 hours and wrote her report as it happened. And spent the few hours after that correcting bits and bobs. Then!" He paused. "Then she went to a bloody pirates class, like who does that?!" Marcus looked at her, jaw hanging in disbelief. "No way." Y/n nodded. "It's my job. I take it seriously. As Clem said, I'm determined in it and I am dedicated." She smiled. "Well I'm happy you took up journalism and not world domination." The four laughed again. "She could take the place over if she wanted, Jesus."

Marcus leaned in, grinning, "Now Clem, this isn't a fan question but more of a me question but what does Y/n mean to you? I know you've struggled eith women before." Y/n shook her head, laughing quietly. "That's so rude." Clem said to Y/n as she laughed to herself. "No, its- just answer the question!" Clem chuckled, glancing at Y/n with a twinkle in his eyes. "I don't usually get so romantic like this but I suppose she's my other half, as the poets say." Y/n placed her hand on her chest and looked over at him adoringly. "Does she feel the same? She seems very fond of that wine there, mate." Clem laughed and put the wine down. "I don't care if she doesn't feel the same. It's unconditional love, isn't it? You have to love them even if there comes a day they don't love you back." Y/n looked over. "There is no way you just quotes Taylor Swift." The room erupted in laughter, but Clem's gaze never wavered from Y/n. "No, seriously. Y/n completes me in ways I never thought anyone could ever. Like it's crazy how I managed to even wake up in the morning before I met her. Its maddening for me to think about."

Y/n blushed, playfully nudging Clem. "I didn't know he could get this sentimental, my goodness. This is the kind of stuff you'd see in movies." Marcus grinned. "That's true love, right there." Y/n nodded. "He got very sappy." James joked. "This man used to be so fun on nights out and now he's all responsible." Y/n covered her face, laughing whilst Clem tried to defend himself. It just all got too funny to be honest. The conversation flowed effortlessly, mixing personal anecdotes with motorsport banter. As jokes and laughter echoed through the podcast, Marcus and James couldn't help but notice the genuine connection between Clem and Y/n. They felt like they were third wheeling.

Towards the end, Marcus raised his eyebrows. "So, any plans for the future, you two?" Clem exchanged a knowing look with Y/n. "Well, maybe a pit stop at the wedding chapel?" James teased, "Will it be a fast wedding, or will you take it slow?" Clem shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure yet. I assume we'll be stopping off at that wedding chapel I Vegas." Y/n joked. "Oh, can we actually?" Clem asked. "No!" Marcus and James laughed as the concluded up the podcast. "Half your soul? You got awfully poetic, love." Y/n remarked. "He always talks about you like this. Don't mind him." James said, picking up the empty wine glasses. "Oh really?" She asked amusingly as Clem turned more and more red. "What? I love my girlfriend? Is that a crime?" Y/  threw her arms around him and placed a kiss onto his cheek. "You're the sweetest person I have ever met."

"Now look that you've done, guys." Clem said annoyed. "Oh shut up. Let me have a cute boyfriend." He chuckled and hugged her back, kissing her cheek too. "You can have a cute boyfriend

I'll help you look for him." Marcus said. "Oh fuck you, mate!" The three others sat laughing at the annoyed Clement whilst he held his girlfriend in his arms.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #clement novalak x reader #clement novalak x you #clement novalak imagine #clement novalak oneshot #clement novalak blurb #screaming meals #clement novlak oneshot #clement novlak imagine #clement novlak x y/n #clement novlak x reader #clement novlak

[cinclidaefang]

Hello everyone, may I draw your attention to my recently acquired boy? My little guy?

His name is Kuroha and he is a one month old mexican black kingsnake :}}

#he just had his first meal with me and I am insane about it!!! #I have to leave him alone for ancouple days so I’m sharing him woth you all to cope #I’ve wanted this species for 5+ years so you can imagine the emotional state I’m in #snakes #mexican black kingsnake #mbk #screaming from the void #or erm I guess I need a photo tag? #Futography #yeaahhahah…

[tcfactory]

Please imagine:

[5k words of an outline for a big Bingge centric AU, mentioned QiJiu and MoShang and potentially one-sided BingQiJiu. Time travel, fix-it(?)

Warning for canon typical child abuse and torture, mention of sexual abuse, minor mention of cannibalism, Bingge is his own warning let’s be real]

Binghe goes insane from Xin Mo and abandons his humanity completely, then devolves further into a rabid beast until Mobei and the Wives all work together to put him down. Xin Mo is so entangled in him that it can’t exist past its host anymore, so it unleashes all that it has left to prevent Binghe’s death.

That’s when the reset happens.

It’s like coming back from the brink, when your head breaks the water and the dark recedes from the edge of your vision as air fills your lungs. Sanity is a cold thing when surfacing from the depths of madness, but it keeps the warm animal-hunger of bloodlust and beastly instinct on the edges of his consciousness and that’s fine.

He’s a child again when he regains conscious thought, standing in front of the tea set, about to make that first cup of tea for his future Shizun, and he can’t afford to be a beast right now. There’s a part of him that feels different, the parts that Xin Mo devoured alongside his sanity have now been returned to him, soft and squishy and human. It’s strange, coming back to humanity after so long - how long? Decades? Centuries? Time has lost all meaning to a beast that could hunt and breed whenever it pleased.

Binghe doesn’t remember how to make tea. He’s not certain he ever knew at this age, but the beast in him recoils at the memory of scalding tea dumped on his head. He looks around, as subtle as he can, to find something that might help him avoid that. Shen Qingqiu is talking to Ming Fan, rattling off the necessities they need to provide the first new disciple since Ming Fan became head disciple, but Binghe can feel the man’s attention on him. Shen Qingqiu has noticed his hesitation and he’s waiting to see what Binghe is going to do next. There’s no help to be had there.

Ning Yingying lurks around, too curious of the new shidi to stay away, and Shizun indulges her as long as she stays close enough that he can track her. She would know how to make tea. She has always been one of his smartest wives - she made the array that pinned him down and stripped him of fang and claw and poison so Mobei Jun could shove portals under his skin, drain him of his healing blood and finally unmake him.

It was an agonizing way to die. He deserved all of it and more.

When it seems like an opportune moment he quietly asks Yingying shijie how to make tea fit for their Shizun. She pretends to tie his hair for him - shidi can barely see through this fluff, this won’t do, here’s how you tie it properly - and tells him the instructions in a whisper so quiet even he can barely hear it. 

Shen Qingqiu notices, of course he does, but he pretends that he doesn’t. The tea is not great, but it’s palatable and Shen Qingqiu drinks all of it while he runs Binghe through the rules of the peak and the expectations placed on a scholarly disciple of Qing Jing. It’s such a jarring difference from the first time when he got sent away right after the tea incident that he can’t help but drift in his chaotically spinning thoughts instead of listening. This is not the kind Shizun, he thinks. So why did the tea make such a big difference? (Years later Yue Qingyuan happily tells him how he blackmailed one of the rich boys into showing him how to make tea for his own peak’s tea ceremony because he didn’t trust the adults enough to ask and couldn’t afford to seem lesser than those of higher birth and Binghe finally Gets It.)

His thoughts are interrupted when Ming Fan arrives and shoves the ‘new disciple care package’ in his arms. Binghe is still not used to being tiny again, so he tries to hold all of it like he would as an adult and can’t, dropping his manual and the writing kit in the process. Yingying immediately hops to pick it all up, scolding their shixiong for bullying the new shidi while Shen Qingqiu watches with a cold mask of indifference.

The manual has fallen open and it gives her pause when she picks it up. “Shizun, I don’t think this manual is right.” Shen Qingqiu says nothing, but he takes it from her and glances at the pages.

Binghe is certain that he’s the only one who notices how Shizun’s hold on the book tightens in anger until his fingers turn white. “It’s an older manual,” he says, neither voice nor expression giving away the rage he must feel to grip the book so tight. Luo Binghe knows even his smallest tells and the man is seething. “Go to the library pavilion and pick up the proper edition for your shidi. Dismissed!”

It’s a few days later when Binghe is trying to find a good spot in the library to practice his calligraphy - he knows how to write, in theory, but he forgot so many of these mundane little rituals in his madness that he needs to refresh the memory - when he walks into the range of a silencing array. It’s obviously a fluke that it extends into the corridor, but if Binghe puts his ear to the wall he can clearly hear Shen Qingqiu rage at his hallmasters and the head of the library pavilion because of the manual. The fake, harmful cultivation manual, one of many that have ruined and killed lonely disciples before, the ones who didn’t have friends or other support to notice that something was wrong.

Manuals Shen Qingqiu has ordered removed and destroyed when he became peak lord. Orders that the hallmasters ignored. Does Peak Lord Shen think they have the time to waste on something like this when the peak is already short staffed? There are more important parts of the collection to maintain than the beginner manuals - the only ones who would ever fall prey to the false manuals anyway are the charity cases, and they are not the ones who fund the scholarly peak. Really, this wouldn’t even be an issue at all if Shen Qingqiu didn’t let Liu Qingge goad him into taking on a dirty beggar child. Don’t they all know that things crawling in the dirt are never worth the trouble? Once filth, always filth.

Luo Binghe is almost bowled over when Shen Qingqiu storms out of the meeting, blind to his environment. The man’s qi roils, razor sharp like shattered glass, his anger driving him to the cusp of a qi deviation. Binghe has a hunch that whatever this is about, it’s not about him. Shizun would not be so angry on his behalf.

He could never figure out why the man mistreated him, could never break Shen Qingqiu open enough to get the answer he needed. This feels like an opportunity, a chance to unravel this puzzle, and it tickles his instincts to have something to chase, to press his nose to the trail and hunt.

So he starts to sniff around. People overlook children so easily, it’s almost effortless how he finds piece after piece. He learns that the people on the peak - the cultivators from his generation in particular, the pavilion overseers and the hallmasters - don’t respect Shen Qingqiu and often undermine his authority when he’s not there to personally force them to adhere to his standards. There’s an especially tense period every time after the Peak Lord leaves for the city - for the brothel, they say, to drown in his lust or to use some hapless girl as a cauldron and bolster his own mediocre cultivation - when they seem especially bold, holding his indulgence over his head like a finely balanced sword.

He learns from Yingying that he’s the first disciple to get into the peak through the selection for the last decade. All the other disciples are young masters and scholarly prodigies who come recommended by their mentors. They don’t need their Shizun’s encouragement to try and bully Binghe, even when he’s not rolling over like he did in his first life. He fights back, tooth and nail, a rabid little thing that leaves scratches and bruises on anyone who would provoke him and he doesn’t have to worry about sleeping in the woodshed because more often than not the dormitory overseers isolate him from the others as a form of punishment.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t interfere. He looks with the same disdain at both perpetrators and victim, bruised black and blue, and forbids them from leaving the peak until they are presentable again. It’s not until a particularly bad fight when Binghe takes a bite out of one of them, digging his teeth into a soft cheek and swallowing both the bloody chunk and the screams of terror with dark satisfaction, that Shizun’s hand is forced. Binghe is thrown into solitary confinement until the boy’s parents can come and demand fitting punishment for permanently disfiguring the rich brat. Binghe is grateful for these few days of isolation. He needs them to shackle the instincts screaming for blood, to calm his demon side that’s straining against his seals. It wasn’t like this the first time, but he came back as a beast in a boy’s skin so it’s not surprising.

He puts on the face of a lamb when they lead him outside, to the cold morning light and then to the punishment hall. The boy’s parents - a high-ranking official in the mortal Emperor’s court and his lady wife - look at him like he’s less than dirt, but there’s a glint of cruel satisfaction in their eyes when the stone faced Shen Qingqiu announces his punishment: by their demand, Binghe is to receive ten lashes with the discipline whip, or fewer if he passes out.

The Sect Leader came to oversee the punishment and the horror on his gentle face is obvious to all. The disciple whip is a cruel thing, one that can cripple even advanced cultivators, and will set Binghe’s cultivation back by years if it doesn’t ruin it altogether. The Sect Leader gives Shen Qingqiu a pleading look and Binghe lifts his head to tell him not to bother - when could Yue Qingyuan ever influence Shen Qingqiu for the better? - so he catches the Sect Leader’s expression when Shen Qingqiu flicks the case open and takes out the whip. Just for a moment, his expression flickers into surprise, then relief, before it turns into a blank mask. Binghe has no time to ponder what the hell that is about, because Shen Qingqiu swings the whip with the ease and confidence of practice and the line of fire down his back startles a scream out of him. He lived a whole life as a warlord and demon, but this body is that of a human child, unaccustomed to this sort of pain.

The world fades to black after two more strikes.

When he comes to, he is laying in a soft bed. The bedding smells clean, but oddly stale - like a guest bed they only air out every other day, but never use. He turns his head and the bamboo house comes into focus. It’s Shizun’s room and Shizun’s bed, but that makes no sense - where does the man sleep if not in his own bed? His cultivation isn’t good enough to forgo sleep altogether. There’s something here, a corner piece to this puzzle Binghe is struggling to fit into the big picture. Is this why Shizun keeps going to the brothels? Can he only find rest in the embrace of women? Binghe, formerly a very active master of a harem with hundreds of wives and concubines, can’t judge him for that. He already dismissed the rumors about Shizun abusing a cultivation cauldron; dual cultivation is one of the few methods to mend ruined meridians and Binghe still remembers how wrecked Shen Qingqiu’s cultivation was when he caught him.

There is yelling from the main room, Mu shishu’s incensed voice and the low rumble of the Sect Leader as he tries to calm him. Eventually a blank faced Shizun leads both of them inside and Mu shishu ignores all etiquette to rush to the bed and take stock of Binghe’s injuries. 

“These… these are not the marks of a discipline whip,” he says, confused and relieved. 

“Of course not,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “I don’t keep one of those wretched things around on my peak. As if those fools could tell the difference between a discipline whip and a regular slaver’s whip. All they wanted was to hear the little beast scream.” 

The Sect Leader hurriedly reassures Mu shishu that the whip strikes are painful, but with the right treatment they won’t even scar. 

“Zhangmen-shixiong, are you saying that from experience?” Mu Qingfang asks, massaging his temples and startles a little when Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan say “Yes!” in perfect unison. Another corner piece for the puzzle.

After his injuries are treated and Yue Qingyuan shepherds the healer outside, Binghe is left alone with Shen Qingqiu.

“What am I to do with you, little beast? If you don’t learn to rein yourself in, I will kick you off my peak before you can drag our reputation down.”

“He deserved it. They started it.”

“And? This is not Bai Zhan. You are in no position to make such a ruckus about things. Your stunt lost Qing Jing almost a tenth of our yearly funding. My own shizun would have beaten me to death if I pulled something so idiotic.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” He’s starting to understand Shen Qingqiu, the wretched little slave, who clawed his way up to become Peak Lord despite his ruined cultivation and digs his teeth into what’s his so nobody can take it away, but he still wants to hear it from the man himself. “Do I remind you of yourself, Shizun?”

“Little beast, you are asking for a beating.” Shen Qingqiu forgot his fan, or else he’d be hiding behind it, as always. Binghe’s Shizun has such a terribly thin face. “You have potential and drive to make something of yourself. I want to see how far it will take you. If you learn how to hide your claws better.”

Oh, Binghe knows exactly how far he can go. But he humors his Shizun and does a demonstration of his White Lotus routine. Shizun fetches a fan just so he can smack him over the head, but says that it’s an adequate act, for now. However, if Binghe can’t fool the peak into believing that he mellowed out from the punishment, then he shouldn’t expect help from his master!

They settle into an understanding over the next few years. They are not of a kind, but they are both beasts after a fashion and now that he finally peered under Shen Qingqiu’s unbreakable armor, he doesn’t resent the man as much. Is he himself not a violent, monstrous thing once you peel off his pleasant facade? What filled the human child with fear and resentment entices the adult demon that now lives in his skin. Besides, Shizun hasn’t hurt him in this life. Shen Qingqiu usually lets him be, only interacting with him as much as any other discipline, but sometimes under the guise of chores he takes remedial lessons to perfect his act. The years he let go of his humanity took their toll and he needs the guidance to set some of the details right.

“I think I might be part demon,” Luo Binghe says one day, sipping tea in the bamboo house. For two hours straight Shizun poked and prodded at his insecurities, reaching for a level of unpleasantness he doesn’t often aim at him and Binghe kept his mask of a perfect, demure youth all throughout. At the end of it Shizun poured him a cup of tea and reluctantly praised his acting. It’s a thorny thing, Shizun’s praise, but it has set a warmth in Binghe’s chest that refuses to go away.

“You are fifteen. It’s probably just puberty.” Binghe laughs at his Shizun’s expression of disgust. Shen Qingqiu is technically not wrong either, because it’s his steadily growing sex drive that keeps aggravating his demon half. “I have met men who wish they could be demons. I don’t care as long as you don’t tarnish the reputation of the sect.”

“The sect or Qing Jing Peak?”

“The sect. Drag me down with your madness if you want. I chose to take responsibility for you as your Shizun, but leave the others out of it.” 

The others in this case, Binghe has learned, means Yue Qingyuan. Binghe is not sure what ties the two men together (ten thousand arrows and a throat split open on the shards of a blade) but it’s a kind of devotion and he wants it for himself. He set this thread of fate against Xin Mo’s blade and it remained unbroken, so he wants to tangle himself up in it until he can forget that he has no thread of his own. He couldn’t find true peace in the embrace of a thousand women, but when he imagines himself sandwiched between Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, the most resilient and the strongest man the human realm can offer, he thinks he could be satisfied. Shen Qingqiu’s sharp edges stimulate the demon part of him that wants to court with his fangs and claws bared and Yue Qingyuan’s soft brotherly manners soothe the neglected human boy he tried to rip out of his soul, but never managed. They would be perfect.

But first he has to find out why Shen Qingqiu keeps pushing the Sect Leader away and mend their relationship somehow, and a crucial step to that is making sure Liu Qingge lives. Binghe now suspects that the Bai Zhan War God’s death was an accident, but it drained Shen Qingqiu of any will to stand up for himself and he can’t allow that to happen this time around.

“When I passed Liu shishu earlier I sensed that his qi was unbalanced. He is heading to a deviation soon.” He can blame it on his Shizun that he learned to sniff out impending qi deviations, because Shen Qingqiu had them often and always, always tried to cover them up. “I know he is going to Lingxi caves for isolated cultivation and I overheard Mu shishu say that Shizun is following him in a fortnight. I want Shizun to be prepared to call for help if Liu shishu turns violent and attacks him.”

It’s a battle to convince Shizun to take the emergency talismans, but Binghe eventually wears him down. He spends the whole night before Shizun enters the caves drawing the talismans; it’s his punishment for bothering Shen Qingqiu so much in the past two weeks. Soon after, the Sect Leader leaves and Binghe doesn’t remember the exact timeline anymore, but it sounds like things are happening the way they did before; Liu Qingge’s death and the demon invasion was barely a week apart and Yue Qingyuan was absent for both. So Binghe loiters around the emergency medical team and waits.

Nobody notices it when he slips into the backline of the emergency team, keeping pace with them through the winding pathways of the Lingxi caves until something calls out to him, his instincts suddenly on high alert, and he falls behind, just as unnoticed. The side cavern is almost completely blocked off and once Binghe squeezes inside he can’t see anything, but he doesn’t need his eyes to tell what happened. Poisonous, disturbed qi saturates the cavern, heavy on his tongue with pain and fear and desperation, the rage of a dragon trapped in a bottle, thrashing to break free. He can feel the marks gouged into the walls when he touches them, can taste the blood saturating the surface when he licks along a deep crack.

A beast was trapped in here, a beast that tastes like Yue Qingyuan.

The discovery makes him giddy and he has to tear himself away from the cavern before the qi could damage his human cultivation or the sweet song of blood could awaken his demon half. Outside he finds that things happened as he expected, and to his relief both Peak Lords live. Liu Qingge seems unbearably insistent on undoing the damage he did to Shen Qingqiu’s reputation in the past, but Shizun seems just as annoyed by his attempts as Binghe, so it’s fine.

The demon invasion happens just on schedule and Binghe goes in with a plan to use the demon elder’s poisonous attack to pretend that was what awakened his demon half. It's a good plan, one that's immediately dashed by Liu Qingge, who can't bear to sit and watch when Shen Qingqiu gets to fight. For a blissful moment Binghe entertains the idea of revealing himself anyway and ripping Liu Qingge limb from limb, but he restrains himself and moves right on.

The encounter with Meng Mo is different. In the dream realm Binghe is not a child and he shuts off access to the dream before the old demon can pull anyone else in with them. Then he bows to the elder with all the respect his old mentor earned in that other life. “This Binghe is overjoyed to see Meng shushu has found him again.”

It’s strange, to explain what happened to him to someone who can’t possibly remember those events, but Meng Mo takes it all with grace, even when Binghe admits that Xin Mo trapped the demon in his own nightmare and slowly consumed him. Binghe doesn’t strictly need the grandfatherly old demon in his head - because as much as Meng Mo would deny it, Binghe has met enough demon families to now recognize him for the very typical demonic grandfather that he is - but his presence feels right and his power can tide them over until Binghe decides to break the seals.

Together they hatch a plan to trap his Shizun and his Shibo in a dream until they are forced to talk to each other. It’s easier said than done, because with Liu Qingge nipping at his heels again to demand a spar (get a hint already shishu, Shizun doesn’t see sparring as a bonding activity and you never told him that you mean it that way!) Shen Qingqiu refuses to go down to the brothel to sleep. Finally, when sleep deprivation is driving Shizun to the brink of a qi deviation, Binghe has enough and bluntly presents him with a sleep tonic. “You can take it willingly or I can hit you over the head and take you down to the city. Your choice, Shizun.”

It’s enough of a threat that Shen Qingqiu allows Binghe to distract Liu shishu with a barrage of very specific questions about an upcoming nighthunt and sneaks out to the city himself. The distance would usually be a bit bothersome, but Binghe can grasp the thread tying Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu together and pull them into a joint dream in the middle.

It’s worse than he expects. He gets a front row seat to their worst nightmares and even fully knowing that these are only memories, his demon blood burns to rip their enemies apart. Meng Mo bodily drags him outside of the dream so his enraged howling can’t disturb the long overdue reconciliation between Xiao Jiu and his Qi-ge.

“He was so cruel to me in that first life, I never imagined that he ever had it worse,” Binghe admits quietly when his rage has cooled, pale as a ghost as they watch the shade of Qiu Jianluo force himself on his child slave.

“Have you ever…?”

“No. Even I had my limits. I made sure they wanted me, even if they regretted it afterwards.” How many women did he feed to Xin Mo’s endless appetite over the years? He never counted. Meng Mo just hums and then shoos him away; the old demon can maintain the dream until the humans are done sorting themselves out and it’s probably not good for Binghe’s psyche to watch all of this.

The next few years are a blur. Binghe keeps his distance from Shen Qingqiu when it becomes clear that the reconciliation followed them out of the dream. He doesn’t want Shen Jiu to think of him as a disciple, a child, he wants to leave and return as a dashing suitor, so he watches from afar as things slot into a much more pleasing picture than before. With Yue Qingyuan’s broad shoulders propping him up, Shen Qingqiu finally gains the power to back up his words and a genuine confidence to match his proud bearing. He kicks all his detractors off Qing Jing and calls an audit from An Ding to clean up all the leftover filth before the new hallmasters take their post. Yue Qingyuan shuts down a nasty comment during a peak lord meeting about Shen Qingqiu’s brothel visits by reminding everyone that they are allowed to visit their family outside the sect if they want to, and this is everything the sect gossip talks about for the next sennight. It prompts Ning Yingying to bashfully admit to her trusted Luo shidi that her mother is one of Shen Qingqiu’s 'sisters', that she joined the sect on his recommendation. Maybe A-Luo would like to meet her sometime? He’s like a little brother to Yingying and she wants him to meet her family. 

Not everything is perfect, of course. Qing Jing is still heavy on the physical punishment, second only to Bai Zhan, because the fear of pain works extremely well on the rich brats, but Binghe’s growing restlessness sees him punished more than all the disciples put together and on him it has a very different effect. He can’t help it, his libido is out of control and the people he wants are out of his reach, so the only things he can channel his restless energy is aggression and too long nights of masturbation that leave him too tired to function the following day. At one point Shen Qingqiu even threatens him with the whip again if he doesn’t cut it out, and the thought of Shen Qingqiu whipping him bloody fuels his fantasies for the next several weeks.

It’s three months before the Immortal Alliance Conference when Meng Mo digs his heels in about the course of their future.

“We are not getting Xin Mo.”

“I need it if I want to become strong again.”

“I reviewed all of your memories and I can confidently say that’s not true. The wretched thing hurt you more than it ever helped.”

“I will never get out of the abyss without it. I need it for that long and then I will lock it away.”

“If you pick it up you will never be able to put it down again. Just like in that other life.”

“Then what do you suggest? Am I to just stay in the abyss and perish?!”

“No, of course not. Ask Xiao Mobei to teach you his portal trick.”

“... Let’s start with the obvious that it would not work and let’s not go into the logistics of how I’m even supposed to get hold of him.”

“You have actively used Xin Mo for fifteen centuries.” Was it really that long? It didn’t feel that long. “You have absorbed enough of its residual energy that with the right teacher you should be capable of learning portal manipulation. Whether the Mobei boy is willing to teach you or not is another matter.”

“We were friends before I went insane.” Before he merged the realms and accidentally destroyed Mobei’s entire kingdom and all his subjects in the process. “I think I have a way to convince him.”

Thus starts the long chase to get into Shang Qinghua’s house so Binghe can talk to him in private. It’s much easier said than done. Much as Qinghua has made his peak self-sustaining, he is still busy as hell and when he's not then he's in his leisure house which is the most well-warded building in the entire sect. They only manage a meeting with two weeks left to go before the conference.

At least convincing Shang Qinghua is easy enough. “I recently found out that I'm part demon and I want your prince to help me get away after the conference” is a clear motivation why Binghe would want to talk to Mobei and “I can see from your bruises that he's trying to court you - very carefully, by his standards, I don't see any frostbite - I can make him understand that you are not interested or how to do it the human way, whichever you prefer” makes Qinghua’s expression twist into something both calculating and flustered. The wonders a millennia lived as mostly a demon does, Binghe muses. He was too young and too human to realize that Mobei was pining hard for his little snake of an advisor the first time around. He's not surprised when it all turns into a Human Courting Dos and Don’ts 101. He's not sure if Qinghua is really interested or he's just too scared to turn Mobei down, but when he comes to finalize the details of his getaway the leisure house stinks to the high heavens of happy ice demon, so it's working at least.

He talks Mobei down from letting his entire menagerie loose on the disciples (Qinghua breathes a sigh of relief. He might be able to keep his position as a spy and not lose all his enrolled disciples after all) and shows him where to send the most dangerous beasts for a more targeted attack against Huan Hua’s adult cultivators. Binghe doesn't much care about the disciples, but the least amount of damage done against the sect, the more likely Shen Qingqiu will take him back soon once he returns.

The night before the Conference he finally visits Shen Qingqiu in his dream to show the man his true self. “I told you that I'm a demon.” In the dream Qingqiu is scrawnier and not quite the perfectly polished image of a peerless immortal. Binghe revels in tracing his eyes over all the scars he can see that have been long erased from his skin in the waking world. “I need to leave for a time, after the conference. But do not fret. When I return I will be Junshang and lay the demon world in front of you and Sect Leader Yue as a courting gift.”

He keeps Shen Qingqiu in the dream long enough that his Shizun can't talk to him in person before the event begins. It would spoil the fun to have a fight with his future intended before the hunt.

This plan, unlike the demon invasion one, goes off without a hitch. When Qinghua is portaled into Mobei’s palace a week later for one last report before Binghe leaves, the man has only good news - the sect only suffered injuries and no deaths, and as an added bonus the Iceclaw Assassin Wolf they dropped into the Huan Hua ranks took out the Old Palace Master and his most trusted people before it self destructed. It’s a better outcome than he dared to hope for.

Mobei refuses to teach him portals (for now) but gives him a token that can portal him out of the abyss if things get dicey or Binghe is done training, so that's fine as well. All is ready. Binghe is going to go into the abyss and then seven years later he’ll come back out, fully in control of his heavenly demon heritage and as much of a beast in body as he is in spirit.

The Northern Consort greets him coldly, glaring at him from under a huadian painted with Mobei Jun’s blood that leaves no doubt in anybody’s mind about the king’s devotion to his little human husband. “What took you so long?” Shang Qinghua asks, unwinding one of his many layers of fur and dropping it on the shivering Binghe. The pelt barely covers his shoulders, but it warms Binghe all the same. “Zhangmen-shixiong has been hounding me day and night about your return. Shen Qingqiu refuses to hold their wedding without you there.”

“Ah, but Shang shishu.” Binghe spreads his arms wide, showing off his new physique with a grin. “I promised to lay the demon world before their feet. I couldn’t possibly return before I was capable of upholding that promise!”

Consort Shang is unimpressed.

“Next time, just get them a stick of tanghulu to share. Much easier to get and I bet you anything they would appreciate it more.”

He might not be wrong about that. What is the demon world to a pair of slave boys who rose to the top of the cultivation world on their own power? Comfort food made by his own hand is a much sweeter gift.

Binghe is still going to conquer the demon world for them regardless. He promised, after all, and what kind of husband would he be if he went back on his promises?

#svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #bingqijiu #tc writes #if I ever find the energy to write all these fics it will be all over for you #Bingge is a bit removed from his grudge against SQQ bc it happened so long ago #but in exchange he can be a feral beast in human skin #as a treat #there was no good spot to fit it in there but Bingge also forgot how to cook #he had to have turned into a literal abyss monster for the others to finally decide to put him down and it did no favor to his tastes #poor Yingying had to experience a lot of undercooked or questionably seasoned meals during their friendship #also please imagine YQY going through a few less palatable iterations during his time in the cave #before he remembered that he was supposed to be a boy and was let out #locked in the dark trying to remember that he's not a sword or a beast that's all hunger and sharp edges #his shizun kept him in there until he stopped roaring and screeching and started screaming like a proper human should #I like my Yue Qi with Hidden Layers and at least half of those are also very feral #they conflict nicely with how much of an enabling wet blanket he is #and I say that with all the fondness in the world #I like Yue Qi I want to give him headpats and lock him in a room with Xiao Jiu until they sort their shit out

[thisisyourdriverspeaking]

The Pitstop boys choosing to say 'as a fan no one really gives a fuck about the racing' in front of three racing drivers - one of which was involved in a serious crash and has had multiple surgeries and therapy to get back into racing - is a fucking choice

#how fucking disrespectful is that honestly #i hate hate the pitstop boys podcast with a fucking passion #fair enough you might not know that much about the sport but a year into making the podcast and all the opportunities you've been given... #still not knowing a lot about the sport is fucking ignorant #imagine if 2 women had started an f1 podcast with limited knowledge about the sport.... #clement novalak #marcus armstrong #james harvey blair #juan manuel correa #screaming meals

[screamingmealz]

marcus armstrong x reader social media au: are they dating?

description: y/n is childhood friends with max verstappen and works for redbull. y/n has known marcus for years and are super close, but fans cant quite work out if they are friends or dating.

authors notes: I've kinda got another part planned for this where marcus and y/n hard launch their relationship and confirm they are dating. also y/n works with redbull in some capacity, some kinda social media thing idek. i imagined her as a vlogger as well idkk

yourusername’s socials

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, redbullracing and others

yourusername happy birthday to my best friend, have an awesome day. love you lots

tagged maxverstappen

maxverstappen thank you!! see you soon

marcusarmstrong cuties

redbullracing our fav duo

fan1 i want a frienship like theirs

yourusername posted a story

yourusername

liked by marcusarmstrong, maxverstappen and others

tagged marcusarmstrong, redbullracing, maxverstappen

yourusername monaco dumpy!! monaco vlog up on my yt channel now! 🇲🇨 🏁

redbullracing love this!

clementnovalak absolute backbone

yourusername dadoosh dadoosh

fan1 she’s so gorg

fan2 that pic of marcus and his mum and brother!!

fan3 are y/n and marcus dating?

fan4 nah they aren’t

yourusername

liked by marcusarmstrong, yourfriend and others

yourusername redbull girl 4 ever. redbull car launch vlog up on youtube now

tagged yourfriend, redbullracing, maxverstappen

yourfriend HOTTIE!! YOU ARE THAT GIRL

yourusername says you

redbullracing ready for 2023

fan1 @ marcusarmstrong can you fight

fan2 they are dating???

yourusername

liked by marcusarmstrong, jamesharveyblair and others

yourusername kiwi dump

tagged marcusarmstrong

jamesharveyblair don’t know how you survived this much time with marcus

your username he payed me

marcusarmstrong thanks guys

clementnovalak the motherland 🙌

marcusarmtrong the best 💪

fan1 she went to nz and stayed with marcus’ fam??? how are they not dating??

fan2 they defs are dating

yourusername

liked by redbullracing, marcusarmstrong and others

yourusername race weekend dump

tagged redbullracing, maxverstappen

marcusarmstrong backbone

yourfriend DAMNNNN

yourfriend redbull is lucky to have you

fan1 she’s so gorg

#formula 2 imagine #marcus armstrong #marcus armstrong imagine #screaming meals imagine #marcus armstrong x reader #f2 #formula 2 x reader #screaming meals x reader #screaming meals #socialmedia imagine #Marcus Armstrong social media au #max verstappen #red bull racing

[moneygramhaas]

TEA TIME AT TWELVE , clement novalak ┆彡༉‧₊

social media & real life au , clement novalak x fem!oc.

in which, a mutual friend sets up a blind date between clement and freyja, in a (succesful) attempt to play cupid.

“clem, mate you cannot be serious.” marcus’ voice rang through the uncleaned room. “just because it’s the off-season doesn’t mean you can lay around and do nothing all day!” clement novalak had been laying in his room for a week now, the only people he had spoken to for months, even before the formula two season ended, were marcus and james. he had hit an all-time low. but, being the (self-proclaimed) most helpful person on planet earth, marcus was determined to help his friend out of his mental slump.

“you know what? get up and get dressed. you are going on a date clem.” marcus firmly stated in the direction of the formula two driver laying upside-down in front of him. “it’s non-negotiable. she’s expecting a presentable, stable man. not whatever’s going on with you right now.”

before even giving clem a moment to completely understand what was happening, marcus left the room and looked around fir his phone. there was no girl waiting for clem, he made up the date on the spot. but a certain red-headed friend of his owed him a favor. and if he was being honest, he was helping her too.

freyja was tired. she had been going on dates with tasteless, and boring men for months now. marcus knew this, he was her best friend. and he just so happened to know a man leaking with personality, just right for freyja.

freyja was painting in her sunroom when she got the phone call from marcus. her phone buzzed from the table beside her, interrupting her concentration. she sighed and put down her paintbrush, wiping her hands on a cloth as she picked up the phone after seeing marcus’ name on the screen.

“yeah marcus? im a busy woman and you’re interrupting the little time i have for myself.” she said slightly laughing at her sarcasm.

“you know how i’ve always been there for you, right?” marcus replied with a mischievous tone in his voice. “i’ve got a small little favor to ask of you.”

freyja rolled her eyes playfully, “yeah, yeah, i owe you a couple favors. what is it this time?”’

freyja’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “wait, what? you told him i’m expecting a date? marcus, what are you on?”

“just hear me out,” marcus continued, his tone earnest. “i know you’ve been stuck in your own problem with those boring dates, and i thought maybe you could help each other out. clem’s a great guy, just going through a tough time, and i think you two could hit it off.”

freyja let out a sigh, her skepticism giving way to a hint of intrigue. “okay, marcus, i’ll play along. but you owe me big time for this.”

marcus chuckled. “you’re the best, freyja. i’ll send you his phone number.”

freyja shook her head, a small smile peering through her lips as she hung up the phone.

clement and freyja continued their conversation through imessage for the rest of their lunch. it looked quite awkward to anyone passing by. their heads were bent over their phones, fingers tapping away as they exchanged thoughts, jokes, and emojis. the cafe was completely silent around them, clinking cutlery from the little staff working there.

eventually, the pair paid their bill and left the cafe, deciding to get ice cream after then call it a day. the sun had perfectly set that afternoon, creating the perfect golden hour. and what kind of people would clement and freyja have been if they didn’t stop to take photos?

after taking their photos they went on, walking along the streets and doing the most unimaginable things for people who had just met. they parted ways once they reached freyja's apartment, talking about the great time they had and how they should do it once more.

VIENNA SPEAKS so uh idk its very very veeeeery short but idk i haven't posted in a while and @lomlando wanted me to post so here it is ig..?

anyways i still hate cl*m and the french so no more french people fics from me for a million trillion gazillion years

#moneygramhaas #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 #f2 imagine #f2 fanfic #f2 x reader #f2 2023 #f2 #clement novalak #clement novalak x reader #screaming meals #marcus armstong #lando norris #f2 x you #f2 x y/n

[foormulabee]

your honor I love him

#marcus armstrong #marcus armstrong imagine #screaming meals #f2 #formula 2 #clement novalak #james harvey blair

[gothicwidowsworld]

Mayfair M.A

Y/N L/N’s loved when she got to sit in on and be a part of Screaming Meals, whilst having cameras in her face had become a necessary evil in her career Screaming Meals was less media duties and more fucking about and having a lark with her boyfriend and their tightknit group of friends without having to worry about a show, a race, an interview or anything else her career and Marcus’ threw at them. Yeah Nah G’day was the jewel in the Screaming Meals channel at least in Y/N’s eyes watching Marcus & James slip back into simple Kiwi boy’s sharing stories & laughs, the occasional sly dig thrown in. 

“I was just hanging around Mayfair the other day… I’m not flexing I’m just I was in Mayfair at a cafe with my girlfriend…” Marcus began already rolling his eyes at the face James was pulling at the mention of the infamous London location. “Was I there?” James asked quickly, the tall Kiwi forgetting to let the Driver finish his sentence. “Are you my girlfriend? Marcus asked sarcastically, raising a quizzical eyebrow in response. Resting back, relaxing more into the firm sofa Marcus continued his story “The cafe was reasonably empty, and I’ve sort of looked over to my left and uh… and I’ve seen someone. And I’m like she looks familiar. At this point Y/N’s given me a weird look, I’m like she looks really like Rihanna. Obviously, I didn’t say that to Y/N/N because you know I wasn’t looking at another girl but I’m also not stupid.” Snorting at his mates replay of his inner monologue James interrupted again “Debatable.” It was obviously in jest, but Marcus couldn’t help the offended look that filled his pale features. James and Marcus even Clém often poked fun at each other but they never meant any harm by it, it was just playground high jinks despite leaving school years ago. “So I’m like I’ll just get my phone, I check online um oh shit Rhianna is actually in London right now. And She’s realised that I’ve noticed it's her and there’s only like my table and her table” The Kiwi Driver explained moving his hands around to try to visually explain the distance between him and who he’d now confirmed as the famous Barbadian singer. “And she’s like basically from me to y/n away, she’s so close and I’m like oh my god.”

“Mate she’s gonna freak out when she sees this” James explained teasing the clearly excited Marcus, if there was one thing Marcus Armstrong was bad at other than singing it was hiding his emotions. It didn’t take a genius to work out when he was excited. From the way his soft golden hazel eyes would sparkle to the small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a growing grin. “I know” Marcus replied somewhat bashfully, an awkward laugh of disbelief tumbling from his pink lips. “When she watches this she’s gonna absolutely lose it. So I’ve realised it’s her and She can see in my eyes that I’ve just realised it’s Rhianna right. And she’s obviously said something to her mate who’s like right next to her and I believe that mate was A$AP Rocky. Quite a table next to us and uh so she’s mentioned something, and I’ve turned to my girlfriend and I’ve said, “Whatever you do don’t turn around.” Marcus trailed off mentally reliving the moment, his heart starting to race. 

“Obviously the first thing Y/N’s gonna do” James stated with a shrug of his shoulders, it was a known fact the y/h/c girl couldn’t be trusted in situations like this. It wasn’t her fault; it was just a reflex she struggled to control no matter how hard she tried. “No I’ve said “don’t turn around Babe do NOT turn around, but Rhianna is on the table behind us”. And of course, my sweet sweet girlfriend has turned around. Um and then suddenly it just struck me I was like actually now that I realise it this room is full of security guards… And they’re all looking at me because I’ve just said that WAY too loud, and Y/N/N’s turned around.” Marcus recounted, a small smile breaking onto his face as he locked eyes with the aforementioned girl behind the camera. “Kind of like Clément Novalak in a Drivers briefing” James chortled purposely ignoring the scoffing that came from his female long-time friend. 

“Exactly like Clément in the driver’s briefing… she’s going to hate that you’ve compared her to him..” the F2 Driver replied laughing at first before trailing off. It was a joke, a good joke even, but Y/N hated being compared to any Driver on the F2 grid or otherwise. Adjusting his headphones Marcus cleared his throat “And uh, my heart is like pounding, it’s like the most nervous I’ve ever been in my life seeing Rhianna, she’s looked me in the eyes and given me a look of disgust, something that I’m quite used to now.” 

“It was not a look of disgust!.” the y/h/c young woman called out softly, a giggle rippling from her chest, her heart warming at the sight of a slightly panicking Armstrong. At the same time James decided to add his thoughts. “Yeah, especially from women… or Y/N’s fans” James added knowing that over the past couple of months the young woman’s fanbase had grown, and with that so had some of jealousy targeted towards the New Zealander.  “Thanks man… And uuhh so I actually I felt so embarrassed for myself that i’d made her uncomfortable that I just thought I need to leave, Babe we need to leave. I just can’t believe I made her feel like this. Lets just get up and leave, I’m sorry I’ve ruined our date, but we just need to leave. So I’m like let’s go.  And then Y/N just looks at me like I’m insane and walked up to Rhianna and says “Hey Rhi how are you” like it was nothing!? Then they like hug and everything and then we just walk out, we just go. I’m still buzzing now like yeah.” 

“I can tell.” the taller Kiwi replied, “It is weird when you see like a full-blown celebrity in the wild.” James hummed a second later nodding his head slightly at his statement. “James, you see me all the time?!” Y/N hollered tilting her head slightly in confusion, some loose strands of y/h/c locks disturbing her view of the lighter haired man. “I said a celebrity!” James barked back in faux angst. “I’ll just go fuck myself then? No more concert tickets for you!” Y/N sassily retaliated losing the fighting urge to stick her tongue out at her boyfriends and unfortunately hers depending on how you looked at it close mate. 

“Hold on a minute! You can’t do that!” James exclaimed loudly, shooting forward quickly, almost yanking his headphones violently. Turning to face his co-host James frowned slightly “Can she do that?” James whispered obnoxiously a look of utter bewilderment casting over his face. All the insurance broker got in response was a half-hearted shrug.  

y/nl/n posted to their story

#gothicwidow #marcus armstrong imagines #marcus armstrong x reader #james harvey blair x platonic reader #screaming meals x reader #screaming meals imagines #f2 imagines #f2 x reader #marcus armstrong x singer reader #marcus armstrong x celebrity reader #formula two imagines #formula two x reader

[httpiastri]

my little race winner – cn21

clement is there to cheer you on after your first f3 win.

genre: fluff

pairing: gender neutral f3 driver!reader x boyfriend!clement novalak

warnings: none

requested: yes!

author’s note: clement makes me weak in my knees… anyways let’s pretend there isn’t only like 40 minutes between the f3 and f2 feature on sunday hehe. and also, the use of “little” doesn’t necessarily have to describe the reader being small. i would cry (happy tears) if clement called me little even though i’m almost his height 🤭

f2/f3 masterlist

few feelings beat the feeling of winning a race.

especially when the race has been long, competitive, and more strategic than usual. especially when it's your first ever win in formula 3, in your first year of competing in the series.

today in silverstone, where formula 1 first started some 70 years ago, you've taken the win in the feature race of the weekend. starting from p8, you didn't have any big expectations, but you hoped for a good race and some points for the championship. despite losing positions in the first few laps, you worked your way up and – with some help from perfectly timed safety cars – you were able to overtake the leader with just a few laps to go.

and the feelings exploding in your chest as you went past the finish line before anyone else were unlike anything you’d witnessed before.

standing up on the front of your car, you raise your arms in the air as the cheers grow louder. your teammate gabriel bortoleto finished just behind you in second place, and he comes up right next to you and helps you down before patting your back. "great race, congrats!" he says, his smile visible even through the open visor of his helmet.

"you too!" you tell him, returning the smile before you both make your way over to your team members waiting for you at the fence.

you pull off your helmet as you watch gabriel go along the crowd first. he is lucky to have kept his helmet on, because not only does he get hugs and back rubs; several of the mechanics insist on slapping the top of his helmet as he passes. you hoped they would go easier on you, but being the winner of the race, they all celebrate you even louder and harder. you hug them all tightly, thanking them for their great work, before stopping a few seconds extra with your trainer who has a full-on speech prepared for you.

you assumed your trained would be the last person in line to congratulate you, but just as you part from hugging him again, you feel a new hand on your shoulder. there is something about the touch, something that feels familiar – you'd felt this hand on you thousands of times. you know instantly who it belongs to.

your mouth drops in surprise once you turn your head to the side, watching as your boyfriend flashes you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. you throw yourself onto him, your arms draping around his neck. "hey," he starts, pulling away just a little bit to look into your eyes. "great race!"

"did you see it all?" you ask, followed by a squeal when he nods. you pull him back into your embrace. "i'm so happy! so so so so so happy!"

as he holds you close, clement starts to place chaste kisses on your cheek and down your neck, the combination of his lips and the feeling of his stubble against your skin making you squirm in his hold. "you should be, you’re amazing." you lean back a little, taking his face into your hands. "i mean, i'm not sure what you did in turn fifteen in the first lap, you could've just taken the inside and- ouch!"

you pinch his cheeks jokingly when he starts tormenting you, wanting to stop the strings of critique flowing from his mouth. "you suck," you tease, sticking your tongue out at him.

"oh, please, you love me."

his eyes twinkle with his smile, the white long-sleeve trident shirt hugs his muscles in just the right places while his racing suit hangs at his hips, and he looks far too good for someone who's just about to go sweat down an entire car for the next hour or so. how could you possibly stay upset with him?

you nod, reaching forward to place a quick kiss to his lips. "i do. and you love me too, i hope? despite my failures in lap one?"

a laugh bubbles from his chest. "most definitely." he gives you one more kiss before he looks at something right behind you. "i think they're calling for you. the podium awaits, and so on..."

you look back to see a worker waving for you to hurry up, so you turn back to your boyfriend. "oh. i'll see you after your race, then?"

he pulls you in for one last hug, pressing yet another kiss to your cheek. "my little race winner. i'm so proud," he whispers, and a slight blush spreads across your face at his words. once you part, he playfully pushes your shoulders towards the worker, not wanting you to hold up the ceremony anymore.

even more people congratulate you as you make your way through the building and towards the podium, but your mind is still stuck on something, and someone, else. you’ve managed to win your first ever race in f3, and to have clement by your side as you did it? how did you ever get so lucky?

few feelings beat the feeling of winning a race. but the feeling of standing on the podium, looking down at the crowd and making eye contact with clement, who's smiling like an idiot and cheering loudest of them all? that feeling's got to be in the top 3, at the very least.

#clement novalak #f1 #f2 #fluff #blurb #fanfic #fic #romance #imagine #x reader #x you #x yn #x y/n #x your name #drabble #boyfriend #love #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #screaming meals

[the-offside-rule]

Clement Novalak (Trident) - Goodnight Darling

Requested: by my bestieeee

Prompt: angsty confrontation cause he parties too much and neglects his girly who's studying at Uni so she wants to talk about it but he makes it a fight so she leaves for the weekend or smthng and then like someone talks sense into him and he comes back and apologizes and loads of fluff, she's not really into partying but Clem loves her for that or smthng

Warnings: angst

Another night, another call from one of Clement's friends. That's how her night's were taken up over the past few months. Y/n would be studying and not even 30 minutes into it, she would have to pick her boyfriend up because he drank too much. Well, she had a plan to stop it, once and for all...or at least limit it. On this particular night, Y/n pushed open the door to her boyfriends apartment and let him in, ushering him towards the living room. "Yeah, be careful of the-" clash. "Coffee table." Y/n sighed as the magazines and coasters cascaded to the floor. "Babe?" Y/n said, as Clem plopped onto the couch and lazily kicked off his shoes. "Clem, cam we talk?" She asked. "We are talking, darling. Don't be stupid." He laughed. Y/n gave a lighthearted laugh in return, not entirely enjoying how he was talking to her. "Clem, we need to talk about something." He looked up at her, his eyes barely even open. "You look serious." He joked yet again. "Clement, it's about going out." She said, folding her arms. "It's great, isn't it?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Actually, not really." She mumbled back. "Well not when you don't go out. You need to go out to enjoy it." He lay back in the couch and looked as though he was ready to sleep. "Clem, please don't go out as often. I can't take care of you and study for my exams." She said. "Oh so you're saying I need to be babysat?" His eyes were open, he was serious now. "No, Clem, you just need to not go out as often. That's all. I can't come to pick you up when I have both work and college to keep up with."

"Oh sorry for being the bane of your existence. A burden even." He replied in a snarky tone. "Excuse me?" Her eyebrows furrowed as a sense of fury washed over her. "You heard. I'm not a parrot, I won't repeat it." He said, grabbing his phone and beginning to type away on it. "Clem, are you not listening to me?" He shook his head. "Why are you making it so difficult to talk to you? I just asked if you could not go out so often."

"Why are you being difficult? I am young, Im not tied down by college stuff so I'm indulging. You should try it. Maybe then you wouldn't be such a crazy, self obsessed cow." Y/n's jaw dropped. "Oh, I'm self obsessed? How about you? A podcast, where you are the most interesting person after the microphone and where your two friends could do it better without you there? Or maybe just this whole conversation. 'I want to go out' and 'I don't care'. Have you even thought about what I want, Clem? Even once the past month even?" He stood up and walked to her, standing looking down ever so slightly. "What I do with my life and what you do with yours, do not coincide. We leave it." He said. "But we're together. We're meant to have our lives coincide." She whispered. "I'm going to bed." Y/n let out a shakey breath and wiped her eyes. "Fine. Just fuck off to bed then."

"If I walk out this door, I'm gone for good." Y/n stood at the door and listened, begging for a sound that even sounded like 'stay', yet nothing. "Fine!" She shouted and slammed the door, leaving his apartment and walking back to her car. Fuck...him.

A week later, nothing had changed. Clem went to the bar as usual and Yn stayed at her apartment studying. Clem sat at the bar doing shots with Marcus by his side, impressed but also concerned at the amount of alcohol his friend was consuming. "Mate, slow down. I'm not calling Y/n in an hour to explain why she needs to pick you up." Marcus chuckled as Clem sat downing his drinks one after the other. "You won't have to. I'm a single man now." He grinned and drank another drink quickly. "You what?" Marcus was in disbelief. "Yeah. She left me and I didn't stop her. It's her life, you know?" Marcus shook his head. "Clem, do you realize how stupid you are?" Clem looked to his friend confused. "She was there when you had nothing and now you just let her go?" Clem leaned on the bar and turned to Marcus. "She wanted to leave, so I let her leave. If I didn't, I'd look bad."

"Did you at least fight for her?" He asked. "She said to say something or she'd leave so I went to bed." Marcus slapped the back of his head. "What was that for?!"

"Get a taxi and go apologise! Jesus. The only nice girl you ever had and you treat her like that." Marcus drank his own drink and left his side. Clem sighed and looked at the bar with a sense of emptiness inside him. He wiped his mouth and walked out to the street to hail a cab. The ride to her apartment was a blur, eith slurred conversation with the taxi driver. He didn't didn't know what he was going to say, only that he was going to say sorry.

"What are you doing here?" Y/n asked as she opened the door. Clem snapped back to reality and there he stood just staring at her through the doorway. "It's nearly two o clock in the morning, say something." Clem leaned against the door frame and took in her features that he hadn't seen in what felt like years. "I just needed to see you." He replied. "Well you've seen me. Go away now." Y/n said shutting the door, only for him to stop it with his foot. "I want to apologise." He said quietly. "So?" She said. "So I very sorry. This won't happen again. Me coming home drunk and you having to pick me up won't happen again. I promise." He said, liquor and whiskey trailing off his words. She rolled her eyes, but appreciated his attempt at an apology at least. "I need you. You don't like going out and I need that. I like that you don't like to go out. It means I always have a safe place to go to."

"Look, if you come back tomorrow morning we can go get breakfast and you can't continue your apology then." She smiled. "When you've sobered up." Clem nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Definitely. I'll come by tomorrow and pick you up." He said joyfully. "Clem, you're going to wake my neighbours. You need to be a bit quieter." She whispered. "I- okay. I'll go get a good night sleep, I'll have a shower, I'll even shave-"

"No, I like the beard." She chuckled. "I'll keep the beard then, darling." He said. "I love you." He whispered. Y/n took a breath in and smiled softly. "I love you too." She replied. He hesitantly reached for the side of her cheek and pulled her in. "I- should we- its up to you." He stuttered. Y/n closed the gap between them, their tongues mixing alcohol and caffeine. They broke their kiss, their foreheads leaning against one another and staring into eachothers eyes. "Tomorrow. 10 am." She said. "I'll be outside waiting for you." Neither of them wanted him to leave. She wanted him to come inside with her and sleep in eachothers arms, but that couldn't happen, just like how it couldn't happen when they first met. "Goodnight, Clem." She said, embracing him tightly.

"Goodnight, darling."

#f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #screaming meals #clement novlak x reader #clement novlak x y/n #clement novlak #clement novlak imagine #clement novlak oneshot #clement novalak x you #clement novalak x reader #clemen novalak imagine #clement novalak blurb #clement novalak oneshot #clement novalak imagine #clement novalak #f1 oneshots

[swagging-back-to]

if youre over 17yo and you cant cook youre useless

#the amount of people in my generation who will get GENUINELY FLOORED if they see someone cook boxed mac n cheese #to the point where it is notable if someone cooks. #like it isnt a 'oh thats something everyone does. why are you mentioning that you drink water' #people freak out and act like you just revealed you have x ray vision and can fly. #it isnt cute for you to not be able to cook. #and i hope you know i am always imagining how you will slowly starve to death in an apocalypse scenario bc you dont know #how to heat something as simple as a can of beans to safe temperature #like seriously grow up #it screams entitlement and ineptitude #it's horrrrrrible in urban environments but even in rural areas you still find people who only know how to pop a ready meal in the microwav #they genuinely consider that cooking. #like. #actually. #inept adults #new tag dropped lol #it is kinda cool how im seen as godly just for doing the bare minimum every single able bodied human should be able to do

[screamingmealz]

screaming meals x reader social media au: let her on screaming meals

screaming meals x reader, kind of marcus armstrong x reader

description: y/n is a friend of marcus and the screaming meals boys and all she wants is to be on the podcast

authors notes: it’s my first ever post! i’m trying out making some social media edits x drivers! i’ve got one more planned which is marcus x reader then after that feel free to send in requests!!

yourusername posted a story

story replies:

marcusarmstrong replied to your story:

marcusarmstrong: pay me and i’ll let you on

yourusername: is $1 sufficient?

marcusarmstrong posted a story

story replies:

yourusername: damn who’s that sexy girl 😍😍you should totally get her on the podcast! im sure that will bring in more male viewers 😉😉

marcusarmstrong: idk who it is! just some crazy fan that came up to me during lunch

2 WEEKS LATER

yourusername posted a story

story replies:

marcusarmstrong replied to your story:

marcusarmstrong: maybe if you start paying for lunch i’ll think about it

yourusername: boooooooo

marcusarmstrong posted a story

story replies:

yourusername: wtf the who voted no

marcusarmstrong: me

1 WEEK LATER

yourusername posted a story

3 WEEKS LATER

yourusername posted a story

1 WEEK LATER

yourusername posted a story

story replies:

jamesharveyblair replied to your story:

jamesharveyblair: i’ll get you on the show don’t worry

yourusername: let me replace marcus as co-host

screamingmeals made a post

liked by yourusername, callum_ilott and others

screamingmeals Indy Chat with llotty coming soon #TurtleNeckTuesday

catemasettizannini: You look way happier than the others @callum_ilott

yourusername: boooo callum has already been on before, he’s boring!! time for some new guests! 😉😁

fan1: let y/n on!!!

fan2: y/n should be the next guest

1 WEEK LATER

yourusername posted a story

#formula 2 #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #f2 #f2 x reader #marcus armstrong imagine #screaming meals #clement novalak #marcus armstrong #f1 fic #marcus armstrong x reader #callum illot #screaming meals x reader #james harvey blair #screaming meals imagine #f2 fic #clement novalak x reader #socialmedia imagine #Marcus Armstrong social media au

[mourn2]

feeling sooo so so so sooooo NORMAL today

#life is passing me by im rotting and making choices that will only harm me in the future etc etc #soon secondary school will be over and then every new experience i have will be felt almost completely alone #whats the point? what ambitions do i have that keep me going? i keep thinking about what itll be like when im 30 or 40 but i cant even #imagine myself growing that old #if i do survive i feel like itll just be soulless and empty and ill have maybe one person to really depend on #its just me coming home every day from lidl or mcdonalds or whatever and taking out my microwave ready meal and silently eating it while #i watch a show i have no investment in #id relish the peace and lack of unhinged screaming but itd be so fucking lonely #and like yeah its pathetic that im planning (if that) for a life of isolation because life is about the connections you make with others #but im deeply sad and i dont owe anybody anything so fuck you........