#love's labours won

[shakespearenews]

A month of Shakespeare News!

4/4: Someone won the "Sleep No More" auction and has a taxidermied javelina in their house. Also, Arthur Miller's first radio play was about Shakespeare forger William Henry Ireland because [reasons], someone doodled in a First Folio, and Ophelia gets some chemical help.

[mintaikk]

Part 2 of the "I analyze Tumblr sexymen so people understand what people see in them" shitpost collection, with Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel!

Prev, Next

[aq2003]

can you imagine a world where david and nina were benedick and beatrice together actually

[gwydpolls]

Time Travel Question 45: If You Could See the Premiere of One Shakespeare Play, Which Would You Pick?

These Questions are the result of suggestions from the previous iteration.

This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct grouping.

Please add new suggestions below if you have them for future consideration.

[frogayyyy]

6 more weeks........

things can only get better 💀

[happilyhadesbound]

finally put up my Much Ado About Nothing (or Love's Labour's Won) poster <33

[foone]

Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:

We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.

Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.

We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!

We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.

And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.

If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:

What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?

What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?

What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?

All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.

Because this is an asymmetric problem:

If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.

If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!

You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.

And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.

The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.

Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.

If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.

If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.

This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".

But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).

So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).

But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.

Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.

We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.

My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"

Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"

[kitschysandglass]

Justice Lords AU

Commisioned from 柳狰, related fic:

[vivwritesfics]

Hi first of all your writing is incredible!!! I really love it!

So I had a thought in my head... what about lando and pregnant reader were she comes to a race like very short before her due date and they made a safe word if it happens earlier (like you remember iceage...) and in the middle of a race she tells him the safeword over the radio and at first he doesn't know what she means but like than he realises what that words for ...

Just a thought in my head, you do absolutely not have to do that...

Have a very nice day 😊

This is so cute I can't

They'd discussed it as the end of her pregnancy got closer. It was something Lando worried about, but she wanted to support him at his races, and he would have been a mess without her support.

They'd come up with a word, a signal for if she went into labour while he was in the car. They just prayed they never had to use it.

It was silverstone and her ninth month of pregnancy. She was sick of it by then, couldn't wait to get that sucker out of her.

Lando was having an amazing race. He'd started on pole and led until his first pit. Currently he was fighting his way through the midfield.

But she couldn't concentrate of that. All she could concentrate on was the cramps that definitely weren't contractions. No, because she wouldn't have this baby until Lando had won his first British Grand Prix.

She stayed quiet, waited. If she waited, she could head to the hospital with her rave winning husband.

Landos parents were there. They always were for Silverstone. His mother looked over to witness all that was happening. Oh God, they had to get her to the hospital.

His mother had never approached Zac Brown or the engineers before, but this was an emergency. She told Zac about the situation.

Zac did something he rarely did on race weekends and jumped on Lando's radio. "Lando, it's Zac," he said. "Papaya."

"What?" Lando shouted back down the radio. It wasn't his fault that he forgot; he was racing after all.

"Papaya," Zac repeated.

"Oh my god! Im gonna be a dad!" Lando shouted. But then he was quiet for a second. "I'm pitting," he said abs drive around the circuit until he got to the pitlane. Lando drove in and stopped the car. He climbed out, pulled off his helmet and immediately ran to his wife's side.

"Papaya?" He asked as he crouched in front of her and took her hand.

Breathing deeply she nodded. "Papaya."

Lando helped her to her feet. "Let's go have this baby."

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello! If you are willing I would like to request a Frankie morales x reader oneshot? 🙃🙃 im obsessed with Frankie x wife reader lately and I was thinking maybe you could write somethin where the reader is pregnant and having cramps / contractions while Frankie is out with his friends and calls him all freaked out but even though it’s just false labour he still rushes home anyway?🥰🥰

(I love your writing btw I hope you accept this request thank you <3)

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

Pairing Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary A night of laughter, love, and quiet devotion reminds you and Frankie how much your world has grown—especially with your baby on the way.

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! This is my first time writing for Frankie, so let me know what you guys think. 

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Across the living room, the evening news drones so low, the TV might as well not be on at all. Ten minutes ago, Frankie left you alone on the couch to go get ready for a night out. You’d looked up from your book long enough to catch the wink he shot you before disappearing up the staircase.

As easy as it would be for him to stay in, you insisted he go out and enjoy himself. The two of you had finally settled into your new home. Soon enough, the guys were starting to rib him about falling off the face of the earth.

He's getting better at striking a balance these days. 

“Alright, hermosa,” he announces as he descends the stairs. “Here’s what I’m working with...” 

Frankie walks back into the living room in dark-wash jeans and a sage button down. As you set your book aside, he offers a goofy spin in a lighthearted mockery of what you oftentimes do. You try to restrain your smile, but it shines through anyways. Frankie grins like he’s won a prize, teeth glinting along with the sparkle in his dark eyes.

Everyone said he was trouble when you first met. It didn’t take long to realize they meant the intoxicating kind that disarms a room, draws people in, makes them feel seen. The kind you’d never recover from losing if you let slip away. 

A year ago, he got down on one knee and asked you for forever. That was the moment you realized that, in turn, you were the trouble he couldn’t bear to lose.  

Before you have the chance to stand, he stalks over to you and leans down to capture your lips in a brief, tender kiss. 

You smile when he pulls away to stand back up to his full height, all six feet and broad shoulders. Looking up at him from your seated position feels a little funny, but you can't bring yourself to mind. If for no other reason than the gentle way he pinches your upturned chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Have fun,” you murmur as you blink up at him. 

“I will.”

“And be safe.”  

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie’s touch falls away, and you stand to wrap your arms around his neck.

You tuck your nose into his shirt as his strong arms encircle your waist. He smooths a large hand up your back before stilling at the nape of your neck to deliver a firm but gentle squeeze. As he starts to pull away, you slip your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp with your nails. It’s been a while since his last haircut, and now the dark strands curl beneath his ears. 

Frankie hums a low note of satisfaction. “Not fair.” 

“Completely fair,” you lilt.

He chuckles and pulls back enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are soft as he says, “Should be back in a couple hours.” 

“I’ll wait up.”

"You don't have to," he says.

"Don't I always?"

He thinks back over the times he's gone out without you, and yeah. You always do.

•••

It's quiet when he arrives back home. 

He kicks his boots off at the door and notices a pink sticky note on the wall above the key holder. There's a smiley face and heart drawn on it along with "welcome back!!!" Frankie feels himself smiling as he plucks it off the wall and saunters further into the house. 

In the living room, one lamp remains on so he can navigate his way through the otherwise dark space. You've folded the throw blanket. Fluffed and arranged the pillows like you do every night before bed. It’s the little things like that, little signs of life, that he’ll never tire of coming back home to. 

When Frankie finally enters the bedroom, he sees your smile in the warm, dim lamplight. You're kneeling on the bed wearing the cutesy black pajama set he likes on you. A breathy chuckle escapes him as he takes you in before his eyes find yours. 

He plays off the warmth in his cheeks by holding up the sticky note you had left for him. 

You tilt your head with innocent, furrowed brows. “Where’d that come from?” 

“Beats me," he plays along as you slide off the bed. 

He sets the note on the dresser so he can rest his hands on your waist when you approach. The scent of vanilla evades his senses in the gentlest way. 

“Did you have fun?” It’s a genuine question, but his mind goes fuzzy when you smooth your hands from his stomach up to his pecs. 

With a distracted nod, his thumbs slip beneath your satin tank top to brush your skin. All he can think about is the gentleness of your touch. The way you begin to toy with the button at the top of his shirt without actually unbuttoning it. 

“But not too much fun, right?” you ask. “You’re not too tired, are you?” 

You finally pop the first button undone, then the next one, then the next. Revealing more and more of the dusting of hair across his tanned chest. 

Rather than answering, he scoops you over his shoulder as you squeak his name. 

- 

Eight Months Later

It’s been a while since Frankie laughed this hard. When he’s finally on the verge of catching his breath, Santiago picks up from where Will left off in the story, and that pleasant side ache returns. If he weren't too busy swiping the tear from his eye, he reckons he’d see every head in the bar turned to gawk at the four cackling hyenas. A live country rock band plays as their soundtrack.

Luckily, that isn’t the case. Like them, everybody is lost in their own little worlds. With their own inside jokes and old stories that endure no matter how many times they're told. 

“And that’s what your ass gets for trying to show off,” Will concludes. It earns him a prompt elbow to the side from his younger brother, whose cheeks are either flushed from the whiskey or embarrassment. 

It had been the story about Benny getting told off by a group of older women during a group trip to Panama. Not in English, but in Spanish. The icing on the cake was that they had been pausing every few words so Santiago could translate for them in real time. 

As their amusement begins to settle, they look around at each other and shake their heads. It’s been too long since they’ve gotten together like this. Frankie takes a small swig from his beer and lets his head rest against the wall behind him. 

Under the dim lights, with drinks on the table, and surrounded by strangers, it feels as though no time has passed at all.  

Benny’s eyes rove over to the recreation room, where people shoot pool and throw darts. 

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to kick some ass in a game of 501,” he says. 

William folds his hands on the table. “We puttin' money up?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Benny scoffs and pulls a face. “I’m leaving here with something.” 

“Twenty-five each and the winning team splits the pot?” Santiago proposes. “I call Fish on my team.” He gives Frankie's shoulder a squeeze.

Benny drums a beat on the table. “Let’s do it.” 

They’re in the middle of scooting past other patrons when Frankie’s phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He doesn’t expect to see a picture of your face light up the screen. Santiago is the only one in the group who notices. 

“Gotta take this,” Frankie tells him, and answers the call as he turns away. 

“Hang on one second, honey, I’m getting someplace quiet.” 

To make it to the front of the establishment, he shuffles between a small sea of tables filled with people with loose smiles and glowy faces. He holds the door open for a group of young ladies filing inside, which earns him a series of chirpy thank-yous. The giddy energy of the night fades once he’s outside, as if it was all stuffed within the walls of Dave's Bar and Grill. With the patio being around back, only a few people stand smoking out front. 

The air is warm. A couple of the parking lot lights flicker. Frankie heads toward one of the benches as he says, “Alright, sweetheart, I’m here.”

A heavy breath is the first thing that greets him from the other end of the line. 

“Frankie,” your voice is shaky, and his brow furrows as he takes a seat. 

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, his voice even softer. 

“I’m cramping pretty bad right now.” You take another deep breath. “I think it’s the Braxton Hicks the nurse was telling us about. They’re finally happening.” 

He stands from the bench and begins pacing along the curb. “You sure they're the false ones?” he asks. “You know you’re body better than anybody else…” 

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.” Another sharp ache pulses low in your stomach, and makes you bite back a small whine. 

Frankie releases his lower lip from between his teeth as guilt tugs at his chest. “Go lay down, okay?” he says as he fishes his truck keys out of his pocket. “Or run yourself a bath if you can manage. Nurse said that’s supposed to help.” 

Shuffling arises on your end. “Okay,” you murmur.

“I’m on my way.” 

Tonight, you can’t muster the willpower to tell him to stay out with his friends. Ever since you hit the thirty-four-week mark, you’ve been hyper-aware of every pang, flutter, and gurgle. Even if you were the one feeling the heat, it was easier to walk through the flames with him. 

“Drive safe, okay?” you say. “Go the speed limit.” 

“I’m always safe.” It’s a white lie, but he was getting much better. Especially now that he was about to have two people looking forward to him arriving home in one piece at the end of the day. 

Life is a delicate, fragile, remarkable thing. It’s a fact that solidified all the more the first time you showed him a black-and-white ultrasound and pointed out your little girl. 

“I’ll be there soon,” he promises. 

Santiago steps outside as he's hanging up, immediately scoping out Frankie. 

“Everything alright, man?” He searches Frankie’s gaze. He’s always analyzing and piecing together. People, places, things. Frankie doesn’t have to say anything. “Your wife and baby okay?” 

Frankie nods, but there’s worry etched across his face. “Gonna head home to be on the safe side.”  

“I’ll let the guys know.” Santiago pulls Frankie into a hug and gives him a few pats on the back. “It was good seeing you tonight.” 

“Likewise.”

“Guess it’ll have to be a playdate next time,” Santiago teases. 

Frankie cracks a smile. 

•••

With the bathroom door cracked, you can hear the familiar shuffling of Frankie entering the house. His keys clink into the bowl shortly before the steps begin to creak under his weight. One purposeful footstep after the next, until he’s filling the doorway with a hand on his hip. But you sit in the bathtub with your eyes closed and your head tipped back. The subtle scent of lavender fills the humid air. You’re only visible from your collarbones up, and your pregnant stomach rises above the bubbly water. 

Rather than speaking, he stands there and takes you in with those soft, dark eyes. You’re beautiful where you lay. His gaze is palpable, and opening your eyes to meet it solidifies for him that you’re okay. It's a silent assurance. These moments when you don't need words have only grown in number. Every trace of worry that once existed has dwindled away.

As he takes a small step inside, he tosses his baseball cap onto the sink counter and runs a hand through his hair. Tension melts from his shoulders in real time. Makes him look even taller where he stands.  

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you say, then note, "Your shoes."

The teasing undertone to your words makes him chuckle. At himself, at the fact that he’d rushed home, despite your warning, with a head full of clamoring thoughts. Thoughts of arriving to you in labor and having to deliver his own child. Or packing you into his truck and needing to pull over and do the very same. There was no middle ground.

He’d dedicated years of his life to working under the most intense pressure, but it was his pregnant wife who’d finally thrown that composure off course.  

Yet here you were pointing out the fact that he had tracked his shoes upstairs.

Frankie crouches to untie his boots before kicking them off his feet. He stumbles in the process and has to brace himself on the sink. The smile already budding on your face blooms into a fuller one when he huffs and peeks over at you. When you straighten up, the water sloshes and reveals more of you chest. 

A long sigh escapes him as he sits alongside the tub and stretches his long legs out in front of him. That’s when a laugh bubbles up your throat. Despite his best efforts to retrain his own amusement, he can’t help but join in. The two of you sit there laughing in a mix of relief and acceptance of the fact that your worlds have only just begun to change. 

A comfortable silence soon settles in the space between you. Frankie gets an almost wistful look about him as he stares straight ahead. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask after a while. 

He rests his arm on the side of the tub. “Us,” he answers. “Being parents.”  

There’s an understated sense of anticipation in his tone that he still hasn’t been able to put into words. A small hint of apprehension lingers too, but the type that propels as opposed to paralyzes. 

You hum as you run a wet hand over your glistening stomach. 

“I love you,” he continues softly. “I love her.”

He reaches out to splay his large hand over your stomach. You smile as he continues talking, “Love that I get to do this with you.” 

Fondness swells in your chest all the more. Like a third lung set on sustaining you too. 

“I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t know how,” you admit. 

Without hesitating, Frankie shifts so he’s able to steady your chin and press his lips to yours. You lift a hand to rest the tips of your fingers against his scruffy cheek. Frankie hums when you ghost your tongue along his lower lip, only to pull away like you have something to say. Before you can speak, he presses back in for one more soft peck, then touches his forehead to yours. 

You feel yourself smiling. “What I was trying to say,” you start, but Frankie kisses you again because you’re right there, and because he can.

Butterflies erupt all throughout your stomach. 

“Go ahead,” he finally coaxes with a small smile, lips brushing yours. “What were you gonna say, hermosa?” There’s a gruff, honeyed quality to his voice that you’re certain is intentional. 

“That I love you too,” you whisper. 

-

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

FRANKIE MASTERLIST 

ALL MASTERLISTS

[child0feden]

HORROR FLICKS ARE THE BEST CHICK FLICKS

max verstappen x horror nepo baby! zombie! reader

faceclaim: assorted but mainly sherri moon zombie

୨୧ max won the vote so here you go! there are some inaccuracies like rob zombie didn’t make the silent hill film, house of 1000 corpses came out in 2003 and stuff but hey, it’s fanfic, let me live <3

reading music recommendations: living dead girl by rob zombie - house of 1000 corpses by rob zombie

ynzombie: throwback to when little me was in my first ever horror movie ( and movie in general ) dad had me doing child labour for free because i’m his daughter… so sad 💔

robzombie ✔️: little liar, i paid you with candy and put money into your pre adult account 🖤

❤️ liked by ynzombie

maxverstappen ✔️: you were adorable liefde ❤️ though how you were in movies like this so young, i don’t know…

> ynzombie ✔️: thank you maxie moo <3 the horror love just runs in my love babe, you know that

ynlnhorrorqueen: a horror icon was born the day this movie came out…

> zombiesloveynzombie: a horror icon was born the day the world knew she existed lmao 😭

landonorris ✔️: you were a funny looking kid

> ynzombie ✔️: get the fuck OUT of here oh my god 😭 i genuinely might get my dad to cast someone who looks like you as a victim in his next film (spoiler alert: you will NOT be a final girl, you’ll be the dumbass who falls over a pinecone and gets decapitated)

❤️ liked by maxverstappen

> landonorris ✔️: 😟

lewishamilton ✔️: fucking hell… i saw this when it first came out! and you were a baby then and you’re a grown up now… feel well old now! so nice seeing how far you’ve come love ❤️

> ynzombie ✔️: you are old, practically a fossil at this point! thank you lewis

ynzombie: house of 1000 corpses came out in theatres yesterday… did you guys love it? i know i fucking LOVED filming it and my dad LOVED making it ❤️

lewishamilton ✔️: loved it! incredible work yn, definitely a new favourite

> ynzombie: thank you lewis! i NEED to bring you on set next time

❤️ liked by lewishamilton

robzombie ✔️: no cursing

> ynzombie ✔️: i… dad have you seen the i do in your movies? i think you should be okay with cursing 😭

> robzombie ✔️: i’m kidding honey, curse all you want, you’re sure as shit old enough

zombiesloveynzombie: this movie… oh my god! yn zombie you should be imprisoned for making me obsessed with a character like baby firefly…

❤️ liked by maxverstappen

> maxverstrapon: max liking this comment lmao? sir can you even watch this movie?

> iluvf1: let him be 😭 he’s just supporting his gf

maxverstappen ✔️: so proud of you liefde ❤️

> ynzombie ✔️: i’m so proud of YOU for sitting through it without gagging at a nasty scene <3

> maxverstappen ✔️: i try, for you

❤️ liked by ynzombie

ynzombiehorrorqueen: i love how since yn was born and old enough, rob has basically never made any project without her being in it 🥺 he loves his daughter so much

landonorris ✔️: you’re a funny looking adult too actually…

> ynzombie ✔️: hope you die

> landonorris ✔️: maxverstappen come get yn she’s acting crazy again

> maxverstappen ✔️: i’m on her side this time, sorry mate

> landonorris ✔️: “ this time ” you’re ALWAYS on her side, she could skin me alive and roast me over a fire right in front of you and you’d be on her side

> maxverstappen ✔️: sounds like a you problem

❤️ liked by ynzombie

ynzombie: finally took max to meet daddy dearest! he only sat in the car shaking for about 20 minutes ❣️

robzombie ✔️: he’s an alright kid, your mother loved the flowers, bring him around again soon hon 🖤

> ynzombie ✔️: for sure <3

danielricciardio ✔️: how’d you get him out of the redbull gear?

> ynzombie ✔️: told him my dad HATES redbull

> zombiesloveynzombie: LMAO 😭

maxverstrapon: bringing her mom flowers, helping her mom in the kitchen, opening the wine, wearing something not redbull related… this man wants to be parent approved SO BAD LMAO

maxverstappen ✔️: it wasn’t so bad, thank you for convincing me to come liefde ❤️

❤️ liked by robzombie and ynzombie

> ynzombie ✔️: i’m just glad you were comfortable maxie ❤️ love you lots

> iluvyn: she needed to convince him to come? omg…

> oldf1lvr: to be fair if my girlfriends dad was a horror director and i knew nothing about horror and could barely even sit through them i’d be pretty scared too 😭

> iluvf1: not to mention that her dad is just ROB FUCKING ZOMBIE? how was he not supposed to be scared? lmao

ynzombie: sneak peek at mine and my dad’s new project! won’t be out for a while but i wanted to feed you guys ❤️

lewishamilton ✔️: can’t wait for this one yn! looks great already

> ynzombie ✔️: can’t wait to hear what you think when you see the full thing :D

❤️ liked by lewishamilton

> iluvf1: yn and lewis’ friendship will never not be adorable to me, they’re so close 🥹

> loveuyn: i mean, he LOVES all of her dads movies so it makes sense that they really easily befriended each other when max brought her to the grid for the first time

zombiesloveynzombie: yn playing another psycho ass bitch that i’m going to be obsessed with… I CANT WAIT

❤️ liked by maxverstrappen

maxverstappen ✔️: i think this one might be my favourite…

> ynzombie ✔️: because i kill characters who wanted to fuck my character?

> maxverstappen ✔️: yes :)

> maxverstrapon: max sitting through his girlfriends movies despite hating horror will always be SO CUTE to me, he lovesss her

maxverstappen: she’s a 10 but she’s got a bit of a big ego ( she’s rewatching all of her own movies ) ❤️

ynzombie ✔️: hm… okay then

> loveuyn: max is so going to regret saying this… i just know it, we all know how petty yn can get, even over a joke lmao 😭

❤️ liked by ynzombie

landonorris ✔️: 🫣

lewishamilton ✔️: oh mate…

> maxverstappen ✔️: what? what’s happening? what have i done?

danielricciardo ✔️: 😶

ynzombie: according to my lovely boyfriend, i have a large ego… i don’t know guys… anyways here’s some pictures from our weekend ❤️

maxverstappen ✔️: yn i’m begging you delete that first picture before your father sees it

> ynzombie ✔️: this is what you get for saying i had a big ego

> maxverstappen ✔️: i was KIDDING, liefde, please i beg you, delete

> ynzombie ✔️: i’m not deleting it

robzombie ✔️: yn, hon, would you ask your boyfriend to go into another room and call me? 🖤

> ynzombie ✔️: sure will dad!

> lewishamilton ✔️: maxverstappen good luck mate 👍

❤️ liked by ynzombie

maxverstrapon: the picture of him helping her clean the fake blood out of her hair… i want what they have 💔

> iluvf1: max is about to face the wrath of a father and you’re talking about that???

> maxverstrapon: ITS A CUTE PICTURE 😭

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

the aftermath of a call from a concerned father

[you-need-not-apply]

you don’t even vote for the liberal party in your own country so stop judging others for not voting for Kamala

I love this ask because clearly anon has no fucking clue how politics in any country work. Lemme break it down:

In Australia, where I come from, liberal party = conservatives. They are not liberal, they’re mildly far right at best.

Also, how Aussie voting works is that you can still vote for third parties, as we don’t actually elect a prime minister. It’s a little confusing but to dumb is down (and yes I know it’s not completely acceptable just go with it)

Australia has multiple parties, notably are The Liberal party (right wing), The Labour Party (likes to be centre some what left mainly right, workers rights but voted against making price gouging illegal), the Greens (I vote for them just because we need green policy but they’re very far left wing), and like 40 other small parties plus all the independents.

How Aussie elections work is the people vote for people to get them seats in parliament, the majority wins and gets to elect a prime minister, they’re kinda like the kid who organised hide in seek and then didn’t play. Basically they have very little real power other than usual shit, they have to go through our Parliament House to get most stuff done.

And as Australia is still under British rule, we have a bunch on governors in each state and then a “head governor” in charge of says “yeah the colony is still there” back to England every now and again.

Also we can’t change our money without British permission. So every time we change something people hear make this big song and dance about it, which is hilarious considering they don’t give a single fuck.

But how does this allow for third party voting?

Let’s pretend there are three parties (only) the blue the red and the yellow parties. Blue and red want to make a ferry, yellow wants a train. People vote.

Now in America, you vote for the party and that’s your only vote. So if more people want the ferry, but because there are two options the vote is split. Boat wins majority vote, but the train would win because it has the most over all. Got it?

In Australia however, we rank our votes. My brain gone I thought it was 7 or 5 but I’m pretty sure that’s wrong, but it varies okay. So if I wanted a boat but I liked red party more than blue, I would vote 1-red 2-blue, 3-yellow.

Now red doesn’t get enough votes let’s say 20 people voted, 7 blue,8 yellow and 5 red: because I voted for 2 blue, and my first party (red) has been eliminated my vote now moves to the blue party, maybe some from the red party also did blue second and maybe some voted yellow second.

Let’s split the red party 4 for blue and 1 for yellow.

Blue has 11 and yellow has 9. Suddenly the ferry has won!

It’s a complicated system but it makes sure not a single vote is wasted, and as voting is compulsory here (thank fuck) it gives people a lot of leeway to fuck around. Hope this helped anon

[lovings4turn]

𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — send in someone i write for + a prompt(s) and i'll write a lil blurb

oscar piastri + going in for a kiss and either bumping noses or foreheads!!!!

steph this is so fucking oscar coded it's actually mind-blowing to me omg ,,, thanks so much for sending this in sweetheart , loved writing it <333

is it possible to face medical complications from enduring an excessive amount of excitement? you’re sure you’re about to find out.

because oscar, your oscar, has just won his first formula one grand prix, and your heart is fit to burst with pride. so many years of hard work, long nights and early mornings, and determination have finally paid off. on top of that, you’re lucky enough to be there to finally witness the fruits of his labour.

when he clambers out of the car, face still obscured by his racing helmet, you can picture the beaming smile hidden beneath, brighter than the sun currently beaming down onto the racetrack.

along with the rest of his team, you’ve rushed over to the pitlane, secured a spot front and centre to bear witness to his adrenaline fuelled celebration, his fist pumping the air with a vigour you’ve never seen him possess.

despite the chaos going on around him, oscar’s eyes instantly dart to you, somehow able to pinpoint you in the crowd of people shouting his name and whooping.

he wastes no time.

within seconds, oscar is right in front of you, tugging his helmet and balaclava from his head before pulling you into a tight hug. you’re babbling, spewing a jumbled speech littered with praise and congratulations, yet oscar looks at you like you’re reciting poetry.

perhaps it’s the excitement, or the camera inches away from his face, but when oscar leans in to press a celebratory kiss to your lips, he misses. instead of lips meeting, his nose bumps your own, the movement clumsy yet endearing.

the both of you groan, and all oscar can do is laugh. of course his first race win would be eclipsed by his inability to land a kiss to his girlfriend’s lips.

lando will never let him live this down, especially not when the whole ordeal has been caught on camera; oscar just thanks god that his overtaking today was far smoother than his attempt to initiate a kiss.

he’s rushed off quickly after for his post race interview and podium ceremony, and through his hazy cloud of excitement, you’re still at the forefront of his mind.

so yeah, he may have fumbled this celebration, but god, will he make it up to you later.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IV good omens but all i know is i watched three episodes on a stream with you all

Three hours being in a server with good omens fans in the wild *insert random emojis to sound like optimum clickbait youtuber except this ain't clickbait*

Okay I woke up. Before everything just WASHES out of my brain, I'm gonna describe whatever happened last night best as I can, because that's what I do.

Some of you were unable to attend the stream, and were sad. But don't worry I got you guys here's the rundown:

people joined the server. people were confused. i was afraid. i was assured that i should be, which was meant to comfort me.

people introduced themselves. someone said they had worked in a brothel as a bartender, which was cool, they said they had many stories. they did not elaborate for fear of scaring the newcomers. The newcomers, aka, me, were already scared, and it was not of the brothel stories.

I brought an emotional support orange with me. It looked uncomfortable. I thought it would be rotten. It was not, but we would not know that until later.

@thescholarlystrumpet entered fabulously, and started the stream.

i didn't realise the show had started for a good two minutes because there was a random voice over that was telling us about Earth's star sign (Libra) and somehow that didn't compute in my brain as being part of the episode. I thought we were checking audio.

It turned out, the episode had begun, and everyone was acting like this is a completely normal way for a show to start.

We time-jumped from the fall of man to modern day society so fast that I got whiplash.

There were a lot of orgasmic noises. I asked why. I was told in no uncertain terms that those were screams of labour. I'm sorry to everyone who has given birth ever.

There were three babies. I tried to keep track, it was hard. I thought the Antichrist won prizes for tropical fish. I was wrong.

I fell in love with Crowley and his hips and was very gay on the chat. This was heartily applauded.

I didn't realise an hour had passed when the episode ended, which it seemed was to be a common theme. I said nothing happened which everyone found funny for some reason.

I was very concerned about Armageddon. Everyone assured me that it would take place over the course of the season. I asked why we'd speedrun through millennia in five minutes but eight days took several episodes. I was a naive fool. Time is a social construct and this show cares not for social constructs.

They fucked up the mission. This was also to be a common theme.

I begged for a break and had to shake my head to try and get the brain rot out. I did not succeed.

The second episode commenced. The intro concerned me, because the cartoon Aziraphale looked pregnant or like a chicken. I asked if Crowley had impregnated him. He had not.

The pornography scene had to be replayed because I was so lost and had not relished it properly.

There was a lot of crying on the chat. Every few minutes someone would say a normal sentence in English and everyone would respond with crying emojis. Needless to say, I was concerned. This was also to be a common theme.

I asked why we were talking about random children. I was told it was The Them and they were the Antichrist's friends. I liked the hellhound.

I wanted to adopt the Antichrist, and grew more thirsty for Crowley every time he was a casual accessory to murder. I'm relying on this fandom not to use this as evidence with the cops. The chat was not reassuring, they said maybe.

I thirsted for Crowley more. This was also to be a common theme.

Aziraphale was very cute, I realised. That was nice. It was not nice when he had gay panic and said mean things to Crowley and they broke up. This was also to be a common theme.

I got so gay for Crowley that I ate the emotional support orange. It was gaseous. The chat was concerned, and everyone got excited every time oranges were mentioned after.

The third episode was a fucking roller coaster. Crowley and Aziraphale were your average high school couple but biblical for 6000 years.

Both were casual accessories to murder, and sometimes the cause of the murders, before going out for a date. Crowley got horny and he stopped listening every time Aziraphale ate. This was also to be a common theme.

The chat was keeping count of the husband breakups. This was not nice.

The Bentley was silver in many scenes, and people were forced to concede that they saw it. I was smug.

Crowley was sexy. She served gender, or as some people in the chat said, she served cunt. Her hairstyles got better and better. No one liked the 60s one. I did. I like everything she does. I love him.

Things happened. The fandom infected me. Someone mentioned how the book said Crowley felt lonely. I was near tears.

Crowley walked down the aisle for Aziraphale. We all were happy.

The book case, the thermos, the bandstand. I was broken.

Everyone said very emotional goodbyes.

I made a post on tumblr that was absolutely incomprehensible but accurately conveyed my love for Crowley. I fell asleep.

Same time next week, I believe.

I hope this was an adequate summary of the livestream for everyone, I am broken irreparably and if anyone mentions the bandstand I will have to start drinking and not stop till I get a happy ending. I cannot afford alcohol. I will ferment grapes myself if I have to.