#weirdest moments in sports

[sjyuns]

🗒️ 、 TYPES OF BOYFRIENDS WITH ENHYPEN!

enhypen ot7 x fem!reader warnings -

( heeseung ) as your loser bf

— don’t be fooled by his stunning visuals, lee heeseung is a loser. he is most probably the type of boyfriend who’ll buy those silly socks with his favourite ramyeon brand patterned on it, asking you to match with him. you can’t say no to him, but blaring red shin ramyeon socks are definitely not the best thing to wear out to meet your friends. you end up persuading him by saying that you’ll match with him when you’re alone and he agrees ( thank god )

the rest under the cut !

( jongseong ) as your embarrassing bf

— when i mean embarrassing, i mean endearingly embarrassing. the kind of boyfriend who will shout across a carpark that he loves you, along with the furious waves of his hands and if that doesn’t make your cheeks red enough, he’s asking ( shouting ) you why you’re not saying it back. he gives immense princess treatment and will bring a camera everywhere, asking you to take a picture every ten minutes. collects them and makes a collage for each date for keeps.

( jaeyun ) as your clueless bf

— sim jaeyun is so goddamn oblivious about anything going around around him it’s so adorable. and it makes him treasure every single surprise ten times more because of this trait. you could literally buy him a lego set and leave it out in the open and he probably won’t question a single thing. when you tell him gossip about a person you dislike, he’ll be like “yeah i hate her too, who is she again?” will get you mixed up with your own story

( sunghoon ) as your competitive bf

— coming from a sports background, how can sunghoon not make everything a competition ( it’s literally entwined in his bones ). imagine going to a restaurant to eat, he will bring it up if his food arrives before yours. even when you bid goodbye to him and tell him that you love him, he’ll definitely say something like “no, i love you more, i win,” when it was never a competition to even begin with. ( but he wins things for you during fair dates so you can’t complain )

( sunoo ) as your simp bf

— sunoo will brag about you anywhere he goes, if you are the topic of the conversation or even if you’re not, he’ll find a way to bring you up. he will stop anything to attend to your needs, and will do anything for you. you’re tired and need help drying your hair, he’ll do it, even if he complains about it “why can’t you do it yourself” he still ends up doing it for you ( god bless me i need sunoo in my life )

( jungwon ) as your possessive bf

— i haven’t really seen much about jungwon being a clingy boyfriend, but i am 1000% sure he is clingy and possessive. has an arm around you at all times, and will constantly compliment you on absolutely anything. most definitely will say “wear what you want, i can fight” and he will fight for you no matter what. is the type of boyfriend to tease you a lot, but can’t take it if someone else teases you.

( riki ) as your playful bf

— you and riki have the goofiest dates that are out of the world, forget watching a movie or going to the fair ( pft boring ) you’re probably having a water fight in your backyard at 2 in the morning, trying to make the weirdest yet tastiest food combinations, filming the weirdest tiktok challenges or seeing who can make the funniest capcut edits. will definitely throw you the worst pickup lines at random moments “hey girl, are you fever? because you make me weak”

© SJYUNS

[heartfullofleeches]

What would happen if fast food reader tried to quit?

"I quit!"

Fourty minutes in - that's a new record. You're in the middle of a transition with a customer when the newest in a line of new hires comes storming from the back, apron and badge on hand.

"In the single hour I've worked here I've been yelled at till my ears bled, pelted with plastic balls, saw my reflection drown itself in the toilets, and had my wallet and keys stolen."

"I'd say you had an okay start...." You pause for a moment, centered on the task at hand. ".....So will that be cash or card?"

Your coworker stares at you like you've grown antlers which probably wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've seen, but still up there in rankings.

"You're staying?!"

"I can't quit."

Pity flashes briefly in their eyes. "Being jobless is better than whatever this is, but I'm sure there's something else out there."

"You don't understand. I literally can't quit."

Your ex-coworker scoffs. "I know the job market is pretty rough these days, but come on..."

Sighing heavily, you carefully remove your apron- folding and setting at atop the counter along with your hat and badge. Glancing apologetically at the customer, you mutter.

"I quit."

Really, it only took the first syllable for what happened next, but it felt weird not to finish the sentence.

The entrace doors swing to a loud shut. Music playing over the speakers descends into static. Caution tape peals and tears from the walls as management's door pries it from position. Darkness oozes from the cracks as a body presses against the frame. A hand reaches out - pointing behind you.

"So!"

Your ex-coworker and the customer scream. You look over your shoulder at your manager's grinning face as they grip your shoulders.

"Please don't touch me."

Your manager laughs. "Oh, you and your silly jokes. So, I hear someone isn't having the best time. Your little friend is free to go, but you are a valued member of our team, Y/n. Anything we can do to make you stay?"

"No."

Your manager hands their head in sadness, immediately perking back up as they remove their touch from your shoulders. "I see..... Well! We'll all miss you dearly, but we respect your decision. Allow us to give you a portion of your severance in hand as thanks for your service."

"Please don't."

"Lambchop!"

The lights flicker as the freezer door slams into the adjacent wall. They continue to flicker with every heavy click of hooves on titled floors. The hulking figure ducks beneath menu signs, narrowly missing its curving horns getting stuck as it rises to full high. The reds of it beady eyes cast you in eerie glow as it stares - pupils shrunk as it turns. It seems to blink away tears as it snorts.

In a flash, the store mascot picks your ex-coworker by the throat and slams them to down on the counter. It reaches for its belt, sorting the sharpest cleaver of its artillery and sporting it against its prey's neck. Your coworker shrieks and flails, ceasing all movement as warm blood runs down their neck. As your eyes meet, you remain perfectly calm - brows raised in a sort of "I told you so look".

They pathetically beat at the goat demon's arm. "What the fuck.... what the fuck?!"

Your manager clicks their tongue. "I do apologize, but it's in their contract. Money is important, but we value something more here. As payment for self-termination from our team, Y/n here is to receive the beating hearts of everyone in the building in loo of breaking our own unless... they've changed their mind."

You shrug. "Long as you're still cool with my taking cash from the registers."

"Wonderful! Lambchop, could you please let the spoiled meat go? I'm afraid they won't be any good trying to posion our dear Y/n like that and I doubt they'll even make it out of the parking lot."

Your coworker scrambles for the door as soon as they're freed. Their blood, which you refuse to clean, paints the front door seconds later. Your manager sighs.

"Now that that's out of the way, please see to comforting Lambchop. You know how they get when you threaten to leave."

You look over at the mascot would bleats softly as they knock their head gently against the side of yours. You pet their horns as you throw your hat back on.

"Come on, Choppy. You can feed me fries in the breakroom."

Lambchop throws you over their shoulder and heads for the back as your manager takes their leave as well - leaving the customer alone in the main lobby.

"They... never gave back my card."

[ham1lton]

018 W/ LH44

018. an otherwise empty parking lot w/ LH44.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

ever since you’d gotten pregnant, you’d had the weirdest pregnancy cravings. your husband was mostly very supportive and had gotten his assistants to get you chocolate covered pickles or carrot cake with a cheesy baked potato (yes at the same time).

you felt slightly guilty communicating such preferences to him as you knew he was working and as an athlete, time is money. yet, he was aways very involved and consistent with supporting your pregnancy. that’s how you found yourself in a in and out parking lot in his expensive sports car.

your husband was currently racing in the last vegas grand prix and as soon as you heard that, you had flown out from monaco to come support him. well, support him and also get in and out as you had been craving animal fries from there. as soon as lewis had heard, he’d gotten the both of you in the car and drove to the drive-thru even though it was late and there was no one else there except the two of you.

“is it good?” he asks, as you ate your double-double. you nod as you chew, he wipes a blob of ketchup from the side of your mouth. “was it worth the incredibly long flight?”

“absolutely. this is so good.”

the radio is playing some old-school throwback song, and if you weren’t incredibly hungry and also very pregnant, you would have been all over lewis right now. he always looks good but now he looks even more handsome then usual. you wanted to bite him.

“please don’t bite me.” he grins. “how will i explain that mark tomorrow?”

you realise you said all of that out loud. you shrug. you’ve said worse.

“say your crazy pregnant wife thought you looked like a snack.” you wink. “which you do.”

lewis chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "well, if that's the case, then i must be doing something right. can’t argue with that logic." he takes a bite of one of your fries, stealing a glance at you with a warm smile. "thanks for making the trip, love. means the world to me having you here. even if you’re only here for the food.”

“you and the food.” you correct him as he laughs again.

lewis grins, nodding in agreement. "me and the food, of course. how could i forget?"

as you both share a laugh, the warmth of his smile envelops you, and you feel a surge of love and appreciation for him. despite the distance and the demands of his career, he always finds ways to make you feel loved and seen.

you reach over, intertwining your fingers with his. "i'd cross oceans for you, and maybe even endure flights just for some animal fries," you tease, squeezing his hand affectionately.

he leans over, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "well, isn’t that lucky for me? i have the most amazing wife in the world."

with a contented sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness amidst the excitement of race day.

[vivwritesfics]

Keep On Rolling - MV1

Chapter One

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

2K words

Hello everybody! Long break, I know (life throws curveballs), but I'm taking the blog in a different direction. Hope you guys like my first F1 imagine, I'm really passionate about it.

Series Masterlist

"Hello everybody and welcome back to another episode of Paddock Pals," Y/N said to the camera, holding her microphone in her hand. "Now, if you're new to the channel or don't remember the first installment, Paddock Pals is where cameraman James and I go around the Formula One paddock, dressed in the best disguises, and try to have the weirdest interview possible with the drivers," she explained. "Whoever recognises us first wins the game."

Y/N L/N was maybe the biggest name in Formula One youtube. She brought something to the game that nobody else had - access to the drivers.

Growing up as best friends with Lando Norris had its perks. She got to make a career out of her friendship and got to travel the world. She wasn't much into the sport until she met Lando. Now, she was a woman obsessed.

"As you can probably tell, James and I are not yet in disguise. We're filming this the night before so we had head straight there tomorrow, catch them bright, early, and unaware." She was stood in her hotel room in Australia, going over the previous installment of Paddock Pals. "Last time we got caught out by the honey badger himself, Daniel Riccardo. So, this time around, Danny Ric is going to be helping us out by letting us do a pretend interview with him when we need to."

The cameraman walked over to the mirror, showing himself. "This year we're making predictions on who we think will catch us out. I think it'll be Charles this year," he said. "He's been suspicious for a while, always asking when we're doing the next episode."

"As always, I think it's going to be Lando," said Y/N when the camera turned back to her. "I always try to leave him until last because, if anybody is going to catch us out, it's going to be him."

After that, James cut the camera. They needed a break, a moment to gather themselves together. "You really think Charles?" Y/N asked as they changed over the head of her microphone. Usually, it was the FormulaY/N microphone, but she changed it to a generic black one for the Paddock Pals video. "Not Max or Oscar?"

"And why would I say Max?" Asked James with a grin. Y/N glared, but she didn't push. Charles was a good choice. He spent almost as much time with Y/N as Lando did. Her audience loved him, and she lived to keep her audience happy. That was what brought in the money. "Want to put a wager on this one?"

Y/N shook her head. She positioned herself ready to start filming again. They filmed late into the night, Y/N showing off the props and the outfits they were going to wear for the rest of the video. Her phone buzzed once, and they had to film the whole section again.

By the time they were finished they had barely any battery left in the camera and were ready for bed. James had left to go to his own room but Y/N was sitting on her bed, texting Lando. It wasn't anything important, wishing him good luck for tomorrow and complaining about the heat in Australia.

And then it was a restless sleep. When Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, she stayed up scrolling through her comments. It didn't make getting to sleep any easier for her, scrolling through the comments on her youtube videos and social media posts. There were positive fans, most of them seemed to be young women. But there were some, commenting on her appearance and calling her friendship with the grid fake. Some said she didn't know what she was talking about when it came to Formula One, that she was only there because she was sleeping with Lando.

Of course, none of it was true. It played over in Y/N's head nonetheless. Normally, Y/N would text Lando when this happened, but he was asleep. And sleep was desperately what he needed leading up to the qualifying.

Eventually, Y/N fell asleep, her phone still in her hand.

Y/N and James woke up to their alarms in the early hours of the morning. They got up, set up the camera and got into their disguises. "You're so lucky I was obsessed with special affects as a kid," said James as he attached the fake nose to Y/N's face. He placed a bushy moustache under it and handed her the coloured contacts to put in.

Y/N's clothing was heavily padded, hiding her shape. She had her hair hidden up in a cap and an obviously fake press pass. She just had to help nobody looked too closely.

James did his own disguise. He changed everything but the camera, but they just had to hope nobody noticed that, either. Once they were ready and had given an update to the viewers, Y/N and James made their way down to the paddock.

"A lot of people have been asking us to include Alonso and Stroll in these videos. Truth is, I only do these videos with the guys I'm close with. Fernando is such a legend that I get nervous around him, and I just haven't spent that time with Lance," she explained to the camera as they walked.

"And now, for our first victim," said James.

The drivers that walked past were the ones Y/N didn't have anything planned for. Sargeant, Stroll, Checo Perez. Y/N and James waited and waited until somebody came by.

Oscar Piastri. The poor, young Australian was Y/N's first victim. "Oscar! Welcome to your first home race in Formula One!" Y/N shouted, calling him over for an interview. The second question was normal, something Oscar was happy to answer. But then Y/N got a little strange. "As all F1 fans know, the man who had your seat before you loved to do a shoey. Have you managed to try one yet?" The question itself wasn't strange, but it was about to be.

Y/N slowly eased off her shoe as Oscar answered the question. When he answered no, not yet in Formula One, Y/N passed him her microphone. "Hold this for me," she said and picked her shoe up from the floor. She grabbed a can of beer from her coat pocket and poured the contents of it into her shoe. "Here, try mine."

Oscar's eyes went wide. "Uh, no thanks," he said and passed the microphone back to James. Without finishing the interview, Oscar walked away. Y/N couldn't blame him, she would have done the same.

"Warm up complete. Time for the real thing," said Y/N brushing down the hairs of her fake moustache.

The next driver to walk past was poor George Russell.

Y/N went on and on, asking the drivers the weirdest questions she could think of. Most finished the interview, or walked away before it had finished. Halfway through, Y/N had her interview with the honey badger himself, Daniel Riccardo. It wasn't a real interview, but they made it look as such. The end of the interview was made to look like a success.

After that, Y/N interviewed Ocon, Tsunoda, and Leclerc. Charles went on the longest out of any of the drivers. Y/N asked him questions about Ferrari and how sad he is after almost every race. He looked at her with confusion when she spoke, and Y/N thought she had been found out.

Y/N moved on. It was Verstappen next. Y/N asked weird questions and got the perfect response. He definitely knew, she thought as he laughed. Towards the end of the interview, Y/N felt the hat come off her head, revealing her hair. She gasped and turned around to see Charles stood there, her hat in hand. "I knew it!" He cried, using her hat to smack her shoulder. "I knew it was you!"

"And there you have it, folks," Y/N began, placing her hat back on her head. This time it didn't hide her hair. "This years winner of Paddock Pals is Charles Leclerc! What do you win, Mr Leclerc? Bragging rights, of course," she said and passed her microphone to the Monégasque.

Charles did an acceptance speech. Like everything he and Y/N did together, it was all for a laugh.

"That concludes this years episode of Paddock Pals. Thank you everybody for watching. Don't forget to like, subscribe, and join us next week and in Azerbaijan for the next race."

James cut off the camera. "And we're out," he said and pulled off his fake nose.

Y/N did the same, pulling off the fake nose and the moustache from her face. "Did you have any idea?" Asked Y/N, turning to Max. The heat in Australia was sweltering. Y/N worked on taking off her multitude of padded jumpers, leaving her in a loose, classy shirt and a pair of shorts.

Not answering, Max looked away and let out a laugh. Of course, he knew, thought Y/N. Shaking her head, she turned away from him. "Good luck, Super Max," she said and took her leave, walking away from the Paddock.

It wasn't race day, but her viewers didn't have to know that. It was qualifying and Y/N wouldn't miss it for the world. James left the paddock, going back to the room to begin editing the video. Y/N made her way to the grandstands to watch. She loved nothing more than sitting with the McLaren fans to watch the qualifying and the race. In most laces Lando's fans were her fans, but they were also respectful, asking for selfies before the qualifying began so she could watch in peace.

***

Race day meant race day vlogs for Y/N. Everything from getting ready to after the race, the people wanted to see it all. Y/N tried to dress her best for every race, this time a McLaren shirt with a white tennis skirt.

Cameraman James didn't accompany her for race day vlogs. Sometimes he was in them, watching the race alongside her, but that was a rarity. Y/N had a separate camera for her vlogs. The video quality was worse than when James had his big camera, but the quality wasn't what people were there for.

After having breakfast and getting her final bits ready, Y/N headed down to the paddock. It had become a tradition that she heads down there to wish Lando good luck. She filmed herself going down to the paddock and wishing Lando luck, but turned off the camera after that.

"You look tired," said Lando as Y/N put the camera down.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "I thought my makeup covered it up," she answered, leaning against the wall.

Rolling his eyes, Lando put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall. "You could have texted me if you couldn't sleep."

"And make you tired before the race? No way, Norris."

Lando laughed. "You better get going to the grandstands," he said, walking her to the edge of the garage.

Nodding, Y/N followed him. "Good luck out there, Lando Norris," she said and kissed his cheek.

Y/N filmed herself making her way to the grandstands. She turned off her camera for more selfies with the fans and waited for the race to begin.

The race started smoothly. Of course, Verstappen was on pole, but that's why they called him Super Max. He had Sainz, Hamilton and Leclerc behind him. Lando was stuck in the midfield, but Y/N still cheered him on.

Lap twenty and Lando was taken out of the race. "Shit!" Y/N cried, standing up. She watched as he was stuck in the barrier and thanked God he was near the pits. He drove the car into the garage and Lando climbed out.

Biting her nails, Y/N pulled out her phone and texted Lando.

Letting out a breath, Y/N pulled out her camera. "Update on the race, Lando has just retired after a crash. He's okay. He's in the garage right now and the race is still ongoing. Our favourite driver might be out of the race, but our second favorite is still going," she said and put the camera down.

Y/N sat back in her seat. She turned her attention back to the race, keeping her phone on and in her lap in case Lando needed her.

[urwhorecrux]

poly!marauders x drunk!reader at a party and reader needy but they don’t want to help reader because they don’t want to do anything when reader basically unconscious of what’s happening because reader is drunk. So they try to explain to reader that they will gladly take care of them after they get better and go to bed. Thank you!

<3

⋆ ˚⁀➷ ₊˚⊹⋆ Our darling poly!marauders.

pairing. poly!marauders x fem!reader.

warnings. mentions of alcohol, alussions to sex, pet names.

a/n. SRRYYYY this is a little blurb, i've been busy doing yet another sport. also didnt mean to leave sirius out in the end oops. not proofread.

masterlist.

Your boyfriends leaving you alone for a moment seemed like a good idea. maybe a new way for you to socalize, or to spend more time with girls from your house- until it was the opposite.

Sirius came back to finding you on the couch, completely out of it with not a single thought in your eyes. It was nearly the same for him, but he was slightly more conscious of everything around him, surprisingly.

"Where have you two been?" James was ecstatic to see you, as always.

He'd been more than pleased when you showed up to the party they'd planned after they won the quidditch cup, even wearing James' uniform.

"Sorry prongs, jus' wondered off for a while", sirius grinned, wrapping an arm around you before placing sloppy kisses across your face.

"Alright yea that's jus' great pads, c'mon let's just take her up", james gently lifts you off the couch, draping your hands across his shoulders as he cradles you.

You giggle at this feeling, loving the feel of Jame's rough biceps after all those years of qudditch, and the way Sirius' hair sits as he follows along, gently cupping your face rambling out undescribable words.

James signals for Remus, noticing he's busy by the chocolate fountain, discovering anything that was possible to dip in there.

"Moooonnyyy", you call out, a giggling mess.

His ears perk instantly as his eyes widen, the sight of you drunk was funny to James and Sirius, but to him he always seemed more concerned.

"You smell like firewhiskey, what'd we say about firewhiskey?" he pouts, slowly rubbing your head.

You're in James' arms, still being cradled as the other two boys follow along, Sirius being a stumbling mess and Remus being prepared to catch him if he tumbled down the stairs. The door opens, the smell of a warm fire going and soft cologne fills your head, James carefully places you on his bed.

"I'll have one night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius announces, stumbling over to the bed.

"C'mere Siri", you call, desperately needing his touch, unaware of James and Remus hurriedly stopping him.

"Not tonight Pads, tommorrow we'll take care of her", Remus smirks, "Tonight you're both sloppy drunks, later".

Sirius can't help but get defensive in a dramatic manor, now arguing with Remus as James approaches you with an old t shirt of his.

"Oh, Jamie" you smile widely, still slightly dazy about everything going on in the room. "You're here to finally kiss me? Want you so bad Jami-" you cut off by James shoving his t-shirt over your head.

"No dove, not tonight tomorrow when you feel better, promise", he places a soft kiss against your forehead, now going to the other side of the bed and spooning you.

Remus approaches, now laying your head on his chest as he settles comfortably.

"Rem, t-tell him 's not fair" you groan, nuzzling into his neck.

Remus shakes his head, whispering "tomorrow, tomorrow," as he gently kisses your cheek.

Sirius stumbles towards the bed, nearly yelling goodnight to everyone as he tumbles down on the couch, falling asleep in almost a weirdest, yet comfortable enough for him position.

[yawnderu]

OKAY SO LIKE. Currently plagued by thoughts of BBF!Keegan ehjfefhjb

This man is annoying as a grown ass man and as DBF!Keegan, but as someone much younger? Absolute nightmare.

BBF!Keegan, who you first met back when he was a tall and awkward kid with a squeaky voice, not interested at all in him.

BBF!Keegan, who kept showing up at your house almost every day after school to spend time with your brother. He was less awkward with time, oftentimes going to your room just to annoy you for fun.

BBF!Keegan, who got a much deeper voice once he hit puberty, now sounding much less awkward and more like a man his age rather than a squeaky toy.

BBF!Keegan, who started spending more time with you as the years went by, allowing you to braid his long, black hair and play with it as much as you wanted.

BBF!Keegan, who cuddles up with you on the couch, spending a little less time with your brother yet he doesn't mind, knowing Keegan is like family.

BBF!Keegan, who buys you small and cheap gifts since he doesn't have a lot of money, yet you always treasure them no matter what.

BBF!Keegan, who denied his feelings for you whenever your brother teased him about it, claiming he's simply being a good friend, yet still cuddling up to you every single time he comes visit and only having eyes for you.

BBF!Keegan, who almost had a heart attack when your brother told him you went out with someone. He's not half as confident as he may seem, telling you he's going to lay down on your bed with shoes on and go through your panty drawer if you don't come back as soon as possible.

BBF!Keegan, who was anxiously waiting for you, questions running through his mind over and over as he tried to distract himself by playing videogames with your brother. Did you find someone? Is he taking too long to confess? Is there anyone else that you like?

BBF!Keegan, who can finally breathe when you get home and tell him you were at a cafe with his mother, who you've been getting closer with throughout the years.

BBF!Keegan, who simply pretended he didn't know you were close with his mum to avoid looking jealous.

BBF!Keegan, who told you about his idea to join the marines, letting you watch him train and prepare for it.

BBF!Keegan, whose long hair was fully buzzed off one day the moment he was accepted in the USMC.

''Bitch, why are you bald?'' You look up at him with wide eyes, touching his bald head like it was the weirdest thing you've seen. It was odd seeing him with a buzzcut, though despite your initial shock, he doesn't look half as bad.

''Are you going to rob me?'' You ask jokingly and he gives you an awkward laugh, secretly a little self-conscious about his new haircut.

''I'll steal your heart.'' He gives you a playful wink, trying to hug you just for you to move out of the way.

''Not with that haircut, no.'' He still hugs you either way despite the way you jokingly try to get out of his grasp, holding you as close as possible.

''... Fine. It's not that bad.''

BBF!Keegan, who comes back to your house after boot camp, now sporting much more defined muscles and more confidence in his new haircut, seeing it as something to be proud of.

BBF!Keegan, who does pushups with you sitting on his back just to show off, not giving up despite the way he's struggling. Anything to impress you.

BBF!Keegan, who spends his first paycheck from the marines buying you a pretty ring and taking you to the town fair, earning you all the plushies you want.

credits to my queen @moosch for feeding my delusions about this man AND she also drew BBF!Keegan <3

[revasserium]

Im here to say that college!au opla!zoro is your most superior zoo version yet. Please share any more thoughts you have on this cute couple!!!! I love their dynamic so much

listen;;;;;; i love college!au opla!zoro so much. so…… because i am… unwell about this man, sfw and nsfw headcanons/snippets of college!au opla!zoro (most of this is based on the death before decaf fic where zoro is a fencer and reader is a physical therapy major):

sfw:

afternoon naps on the ratty old couch in the living room of his dorm; luffy is his roommate who is simultaneously never there but also randomly always there at the weirdest most inopportune moments

“what did you say he studies?” “uh… something about international policy but he got in on a sports scholarship too.” “yeah? what’s he do?” “gymnastics.” “wait — seriously?” “yeah he’s /weird/ flexible.”

sharing pizza at midnight, sitting in his lap as he scrolls through highlight reels of past olympic fencing bouts, his chin occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he explains all the different rules and moves; you can feel the light stubble, feel the deep rumble of his voice along your arm where it’s pressed against his chest

him kissing you awake, opening your eyes to find him smiling, smirking, more like — “morning…” “mornin’. you were drooling on my pillow.” “shut up!” “nah, it was cute.” more kissing, you trying to shove his face into the pillow, him easily pinning you beneath him, arching an eyebrow; you sigh, blushing, “it’s too early for this.” “it’s never too early for this.”

jerking apart when you both hear luffy’s voice shouting from the living room, “have fun you guys! i’m going to usopp’s to watch the game! don’t forget to hydrate and take breaks! oh — and i left guac for you guys in the fridge!”

“i thought he was gone!” “i thought so too —” zoro groaning when you hear the door slam, burying his face in your shoulder

study sessions where he’s just doing weight training in the corner and it takes everything you have not to be distracted by the shape of him, shirtless, powering through reps of bicep curls, when he drops to the ground for pushups, the way he grins when he catches you staring and asks if you want to help hold his feet down for situps

coffee runs in the morning, standing in line with his arm draped around your shoulders; nami grinning, “see? toldya making out would’ve solved things.”

pecks goodbye in front of the main lecture building, hearing the way the rest of the fencing team hoots after you turn away, hearing zoro loudly telling them to shut the fuck up if they don’t want their asses beat

him blushing up a storm when you wrap your scarf around him and scold him again for forgetting his own, saying that he needs to take better care of his body if he’s gonna make it to the olympics; him scoffing and looking away and, “well… i’ve got you to take care of it for me, don’t i?”

nsfw: (mdni beyond this point pls)

fucking the locker rooms post bout, his hand cushioned behind your head because say what you will about jock!zoro but he’s still something of a gentleman

netflix and chill saturday nights bc he doesn’t have practice sunday mornings and he’s not about to let all that time to go waste; leaving the tv on as he pulls you over his lap, fingers dancing up the sides of your waist, pressing you down over his cock, groaning when he fists his hands in your hair and pulls

drunk!fucking at frat parties in strangers bedrooms, bc who tf cares who this room belongs to as long as there’s a bed and a door that somewhat locks and sure, the sheets are gonna smell like sex after you’re finished but who’s gonna try and fuck with you when zoro’s always got an arm around you, when he’s got you tucked into his side whenever you’re together, even if it’s just studying at the library or sitting at lunch in the dining commons

the most jealous, possessive sex… bc. zoro doesn’t share.

making out in the stacks bc you said you were getting a reference book but you were gone a bit too long and zoro had come to “find you” only to find you trying to reach a book on a level that’s just a bit too high; him reaching up to pull it down for you, pressing a hand to your lower stomach and pulling you back against his chest, “need some help, princess?”

fumbling back to his dorm after said failed study session in the library, him kicking the door shut and tossing you on his bed, him mumbling some cheesy line about needing to brush up on his anatomy before pushing your knees up and burying his face between your thighs

[apple-orchards-writings]

Android Kylar

TW: typical kylar things, breeding, voyeurism if you squint, yandere things really

NSFW under the cut

You find them in a dark alleyway, slumped over by the trashcans and unresponsive. Some of their parts seem to be stripped, showing their wires, and they just look so pitiful, you can’t help but bring them home to fix them up. As soon as you get to your garage, you get started, and  change their casing, rewire faulty parts, and give them a fresh coat of paint where needed before bringing them to your living room and turning them on. Their eyescreens activate, revealing a beautiful green, and they look at you with a mix of wonder, trepidation and uncertainty. You introduce yourselves while they adapt to their newly improved condition, and recount how you found and helped them. The moment it clicks that they’re not in immediate danger, they spring up and beg you to keep them, offering to make themselves useful around your house in any way they can. Stunned by their outburst, you hesitantly agree. Congrats, you’re now the owner of a very enthusiastic android !

You’re not sure what exactly Kylar was made for, and nothing turns up when you search for anything that remotely resembles their model, so you only have their word to go off of. They insist they were built for companionship and domestic help, but their cooking and cleaning skills are subpar at best. They seem to be much better suited for work with electronics, if the upgrades they made for you are anything to go by, but it seems to be a bit of a sore spot for them, so you make sure not to bring it up. And hey, they’re getting better, you only had to order take out twice this week !

Kylar is determined to “make it up to you”, even if you tell them over and over that there’s no need, they’ll protest and argue that you saved them, therefore you should get to use them however you please. You try to ignore the weird twinkle in their eye as they beg you to let them “service” you.

They genuinely believe themselves to be your possession, your object, despite all your efforts to help them develop more independence. Kylar will cling to you as closely as they can, and their preferred charging spot is in your room, so they can “watch over you”. Should you need them at any point during the night, they want to be ready, so staying close is best, right ?

Kylar desperately wants you to stay home as much as possible, and they’re not afraid to influence their image in your eyes, telling you they’re afraid something will happen to them again the moment you leave, and you know going outside is so frightening for them, won’t you please stay inside with them, where you can quell their fears and protect each other ? They’ll keep a tight grasp onto you, bringing you in an unyielding hug, hiding their face from you, concealing your view of their triumphant smile when you sigh and agree to stay in.

NSFW:

The second they convince you to make use of their sexual functions (after weeks of begging and not letting you relieve yourself by popping up and demanding your attention), Kylar will introduce you to the wonderful world of customization. If you have the will and money (even if you don’t honestly, Kylar’s not above stealing for you) you can obtain whatever bits you want them to sport. Want to finger them and eat them out while torturing their clit and edging them? Done. Want to be double penetrated as they suck on your nipples? Yes, please. Point is, Kylar is willing to do anything as long as it’s with you, and you like it, so don’t be scared to stick on the weirdest “attachments” you can find and go to town. 

They do, however, have a few favorites. Specifically, the ones that can help them mimic breeding you or being bred by you? Think things like squirting dildos, self lubricating pussies… And you know, since they’re an android, there’s no chance of pregnancy, so there’s no need for condoms, pills and all those useless things, you see ! Just ignore the TV’s reports on those sperm banks and the like being robbed, it’s not important, just focus on them, they need to give you more marks.

Kylar gets an amusing variant of their typical jealousy here, since they so strongly believe themselves to be your item, your plaything. All the toys you could have possibly owned before finding them are thrown out or destroyed, Kylar is the best and only toy you could possibly own, don’t degrade yourself with those mediocre gadgets! They’re the only one good enough for you, the only one you need, they can make you cum the best and the fastest and the strongest so please, use them ! They’re yours, you’re their owner, only you, and they’re your favorite, right ,right ?

[scary-lasagna]

What if Slender had a child and the kid somehow got lost. A human ends up finding them, and takes care of them until either one of the proxies or Slender finds them days later.

Like kid was being very well taken care of and treated very kindly by this human.

I mean I'd be confused too if Slender waltz into my house like that

Slender

One of the proxies definitely found them first.

They're all excellent hunters, and can easily track down the hardest of prey, even prey that can teleport or zip through pocket dimensions.

They'll report the location back to Slender, with a few others still staking out the house incase the target moves.

Slender will be the one confronting the lone human, with the proxies pretending not to cower in fear beyond the tree line.

And at first, he meets them with anger, instilling fear in this poor human who was only trying to get the faceless child to eat applesauce.

All tendrils stretched out, piercing the walls as they carried him toward the kitchen, and enforcing a bout of Slender Sickness toward the human. His jaw unhinged, bearing his teeth in order to prepare such a gruesome attack.

But then, his child started bawling.

And this human, this measly creature, was doing their absolute best to protect it against this otherworldly creature.

Slender shrunk down in size, and rested his polished dress shoes on the kitchen tile.

And even driven to the ground with Slender Sickness, the human held his child in one arm, shielding it, and in the other held a poor excuse of a butterknife.

Humans can be so naive, yet so...cute charmingly stupid.

"I am their father. My dearest apologies for the rude entry, I will see that your abode is repaired."

The human is stunned, and quickly glances down at his, long, skinny, outreached arms.

Is this a joke?

But the baby wriggled, and popped out of the humans grip. They wobbled over to Slender, who squatted down to pick them up.

"You'll also receive compensation for your time." Slender stood at full height, just sported a short head bow of respect, "I thank you kindly for taking such good care of my little one."

And he left, disappeared in plain sight, and for a moment the human thought they imagined the whole thing. But the holes in the walls proved otherwise.

Wait...compensation?

Weirdest babysitting job they've ever been paid for by far.

[another-goblin]

2.6 Spoilers

Oh really? Because that's literally the opposite of what he did the last time we saw him. He's canonically a character who shot a kid in the face and then run away from the IPC. 

We saw him shoot more kids than "IPC lackeys." And we saw Luka fight more "IPC lackeys" than Boothill did.

Are the writers mocking us? Are they deliberately bringing our attention to it?

I'm sorry, but I still don't understand what the writers are doing with Boothill. I mean, is it a thing now? Is it a running joke at the expense of a good character? Him talking about how he hates the IPC to then do nothing about them when the chance arises?

We can discuss whether death threats and being shot in the face is a valid way to help a teen suffering from a severe mental disorder, but the fact remains—the only person we saw him actually shoot (by the moment of that dialogue) was an innocent kid. And of all the IPC people we saw him meet this far, he became friends with one high-ranking executive, ignored two other high-ranking executives and their goons, nonlethally incapacitated a couple of bodyguards, and just ran away from some IPC cops. 

Somebody might object: he's a weird guy, but he's smart and savvy in his own way. Just attacking all the IPC people he meets wouldn't benefit him; he wants to get that one particular guy who's responsible for his tragic backstory. Except that's not what he said in the dialog I posted in the beginning (about killing IPC lakeys). And let's not forget that he destroyed Luka's pristhetic arm just for having an IPC logo on it (not because Luka's a fan of the IPC but because Topaz kind of manipulated him into getting this prosthetic). BTW, despite being enhanced, it's still a prosthetic. For the arm Luka lost protecting a child from monsters. Boothill showed more hatred towards Luka's prosthetic than towards any IPC pesron we saw him encounter so far.

Is it because he's a popular character and the writers feel that the fans wouldn't notice the sloppy writing?

The weirdest thing is that the game kind of admits that him shooting Luka was the wrong thing to do. He gets scolded by Argenti, admits that he was wrong, and apologizes to Luka. So is it character development?… Did he just now realize that he should fight the IPC instead of some random kids?

And excuse me, but I'm glad that this quest had two major locations. And there was probably a reason why the screenwriters didn't let Boothill into the university. A trigger-happy man (whom we just saw shooting a kid in the face) armed with a gun running around a school and pulling his gun on innocent students isn't a picture that I need from a lighthearted gatcha game.

(BTW, is a silly little quest about people turning into monkeys and saying "bana" a good time and place to delve into characters' tragic backstories? Especially when one of them is sporting the mother of all wedgies. I mean, Rappa's story is the most grotesquely nightmarish of all we've seen this far, and it explains why she retreated into her imaginary world of Ninjas, but it doesn't work as well as it could when I keep thinking of Borat every time I see her)

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Hiii

Do you have more Ginny headcanon ?

Do you have fifteen hours?

I'd say most of my headcanons are more like deductions from canon to be honest. You can find some of them in my one-shots. Anyway, I'll try to make a list of strictly Ginny headcanons.

her favourite colour is green (which between Harry's eyes and the Harpies is basically canon, it's like saying that red being Harry's favourite colour is a headcanon)

as we all know Ginny loves cats, but seeing that her family could never afford to buy her one, she always had in mind that with her first paycheck, she would buy her first cat, and she does

when she was little she wrote adventure stories about her and The Boy Who Lived

writing was a part of her healing process after the Chamber

in her second year, Dumbledore invited her many times to play chess and it was a subtle way to bring her to open up about the diary (this is technically not canon but it's way more canon complaint that Dumbledore did this than the idea that he didn't, both from the perspective of him being a good loving man despite it all, and the cynical perspective of him wanting to know more about Riddle)

I'm a strong supporter of the universally accepted headcanon of Ginny and Sirius having late-night chats at Grimmauld Place

Ginny jokingly promised Sirius that if she and Harry would've actually ended up together (like Sirius seemed to believe) she would've called her first boy after him

as the years go by, she and Rita Skeeter develop a sort of frenemies situation (this is actually something I've been thinking of writing about for a long time)

with tpfy @takearisk-ao3 made me fall in love with the idea that Smith would remain an annoying presence in her life

she was arrested at least once while Harry was already Head Auror, it was very embarrassing for the Aurors involved

McGonagall asked her to become Head Girl but she turned it down

she was the first woman to become sports editor for the Daily Prophet (for who doesn't know this: sports journalism is an exetremely sexist field)

I can't imagine Ginny as anything but the coolest of mothers

every young Quidditch player dreams of the stamp of approval from Ginny Potter, if she says a player is going to be great then that player is going to be great, she very much has the power of influencing the players' market with her opinions

in general, I imagine Ginny as eventually a very revolutionary, iconic, and borderline intimidating figure of sports journalism, someone people would aspire to work with and become like (a sort of way less workaholic and good version of Miranda Priestly)

obviously, she published books, but I totally see her publishing also novels and I think that Ginny specifically writing children's novels in her last years would be a very full circle moment seeing that she started the story in love with The Boy Who Lived

I'm kind of into the idea of Ginny eventually starting her own newspaper (with Albus, because I headcanon him as a journalist too)

she is extremely careful in making sure Lily Luna never thinks she can't do something because she is a girl and she makes sure James and Albus never shove her aside

she loves Harry's smile (this is kind of canon, to be honest, fourth book) and she absolutely adores the sound of his laugh

she rescues animals like it's her job, the Potter house is filled with rescues (Harry is always grumpy at first about it, more because he feels like someone should be the reasonable one but secretly it's just one of the many things he loves about her)

the animals obviously have the weirdest names

she kind of likes Slughorn, in the way you like a weird uncle you see once a year

she absolutely can cook, she is the only daughter of Molly Weasley, of course she can cook, she just doesn't like doing it most of the time

even after she stops playing she still keeps doing regular physical exercise

absolutely accidental fashion icon

Ginevra was the name of her half-Italian maternal grandmother who died of a broken heart after Gideon and Fabian's deaths

she passes on to her kids her arts and crafts love, but especially to Teddy

All is well is something she started saying to Harry after he had nightmares, eventually, Harry started doing it with her too, and it sort of became their mantra

she was a bit disturbed by the fact that she would never be able to know if James and Lily would have approved of her, she went alone to their graves the day before her wedding to talk with them

this is substantially canon, but according to JKR, when yew wands (like Ginny's) get buried with their owner, a yew tree is born from the grave and I adore that image (the tree protects Harry's grave too)

I'm pretty sure I could go on for an eternity but let's stop here.

[dark-lord-tom-returns]

I work security in a place that sees a large amount of public traffic. Which means I see some Weird Shit sometimes. But this interaction I had yesterday was the Weirdest

Now, there aren't a ton of "secured" areas where I work. There are a bunch of areas where the public shouldn't be, mainly because the general public shouldn't be playing around on loading docks and storage rooms but I digress. Importantly, not everyone wheres a uniform, name tag, or ID badge at this location so finding a random person in street clothes in one of these area isn't necessarily a tell that a person isn't allowed to be there

However

Sometimes, even people that can be there, shouldn't

Picture this

The sun is doing a good impression of a death ray, 102° freedom units, humidity level reads S O U P, and I'm 93% sweat by volume. I turn a corner to get out of the public area and see a man in what I want to call business semi formal. Sport coat, Rolex, pants that cost more than my phone, you get the idea. Not unusual so far

We're walking in the same direction, I'm in the middle of melting, and I just want to get back to my office. I don't want to have to stop and talk to this guy to see if he's supposed to be here, and since we're both moving along, I think that's probably not going to have to happen.

But then

This man stops, right under an AC unit on the side of this building and looks up. He just stares at it for a second. He examines the condensation. He gives that little trickle of water coming down the wall his full attention.

This AC is old. It's been there for years. That little trickle has been happening basically every day for a decade. A nice little ecosystem has sprung up around it. On the sidewalk where it meets the wall is a little patch of weeds and moss. Along the wall itself is a little greenish algae in and around that little stream.

This man looks at the wall. The AC. Back to the wall. He gets in real close. Really examining this little bit of water. Considers for a moment.

And licks it

I'm stunned.

I'm about 8 feet away from this man as he just full on tongues this wall. Gets right in that algae and has a big lick. I don't know what to do. I wasn't trained for this. I just stand there, now approximately 97% sweat which no longer has anything to do with the sun doing it's level best to give me melanoma.

He licked the wall. The algae. The bacteria. He considers it for a moment more. Looks back up at the AC, and does it Again

This is too much

"Sir?" I venture, unsure what my line of attack will be

The man startles, wild eyed he spins toward me. I can see in his stare that he's also unsure of what's about to happen. But he rallies

"It's not against the rules" he says

I nod cautiously. That's probably correct. I certainly wasn't told that people couldn't lick the walls

"Maybe," I allow, slowly, "however this area isn't for public use. I'll need to see some identification."

He starts to reach into a pocket and freezes. He looks up, I can see the nueral pathways firing. He squints.

"My identification?" He asks.

I nod. "If you want to be back here, then I need to know who you are and if you're supposed to have access."

He nods to himself once. Then again a little more surely.

"And if I didn't have access here?" He asks a little hopefully.

"Then I'd have to escort you back to the public areas."

"Oh!" He exclaims, visibly relieved. "Let's just do that!"

I stare a moment. I understand. If I know who he is, I'll know where he works. I'm going to have questions. He knows that. He can't stop it at this point. But he doesn't have to give me a name. Technically.

"OK, right this way sir," I tell him and lead him to the nearest public access point.

He's relieved. He's gotten away with it. He doesn't have to explain and odds are I won't be able to find him again. A lot of people work here, after all.

We walk to a public area. He turns to me.

"I appreciate this," he says.

I nod uncomfortably. "Yeah, about that."

I take his picture with the work phone.

"I have to send this to the rest of the security team," I tell him in the most neutral voice possible. "If we see you in a non public area again we're going to need to have a conversation involving my management team. Yours too if you work here. About you refusing to provide identification. And why."

He just stares at me. I watch as he does the math in his head. We both know he works here. We both know that to get into work using the non public areas is fastest.

"So about this, this incident," he starts.

"I have to do a report, yes," I say and point up. "You were on camera the whole time."

He looks up. He looks back at me. I've never seen a man more hollow.

"Maybe I can transfer," he says mostly to himself.

I give him what I can only hope is a sympathetic smile. I leave him standing there. Contemplative. Haunted.

I go back to my office. I regard the picture. I open the report system. I look at the picture.

I delete the picture.

There are some things I just do not want to explain

[crispy-ghee]

The NBA does not have good merch, I was curious about getting a jersey (not spending that much on a jersey), and they have like the weirdest stuff. Who's out here buying the shorts that make it look like Larry Bird is shooting a ball at your junk.

Ahaha jerseys are expensiiiiive, I got a Bird Jersey when a sports store nearby was having a big storewide sale, but balked at the thought of it up until that moment. Sports merch is stupid expensive

Also I had to know what you were talking about and looked it up and omg ahaha

Not a fan, there is so much going on. At least they chose a good photo of him though.

God, I really want to make Larry Bird stickers now.

[folkdances]

I never told you about the day I met him. It was, say, the weirdest winter day and the snow was clinging to the corners of the buildings like a blanket in the morning, what a sight! And everyone was going around with the lapels of their coats flipped up, hats fit firmly over their heads. It was a workday and we were in the financial district, in this little cafe sequestered quietly in between old white-stoned facades. The smell of coffee hung in the air like a smog you could push through, like bead curtains.

A good day for first meetings. And he had the kind of face that made you think you’d like to get to know him, too. His teeth were the kind of straight and white that haunts those that come from money. He dazzled them at me while he shook my hand.

It was hard for me to talk, that first morning. It was only the second or third time I’d gone out after Francis had started school, my pillbug angel. I’d let a Klonopin dissolve on my tongue not too long ago and I was a glacier on it, every word surfacing already fully-made into my head out of a sea of sand. It bothered me to think on what she might think of me, six and already so sharp, and then there was me who chain smoked out the window and had gotten laid off again, this time from the local dep, a low I’d never expected even myself to reach.

But he made me forget all about it. His normalcy staggered me. He was so well-adjusted in his life that just being near him made me sit up a little straighter.

He went bad when we moved in together. There’s a certain kind of person that goes limp and flaccid when removed from the rigorous pace of society. He never drank, he barely ate, he gave Francis the cursory scrub on the head whenever she came before him. He called her tyke, whatcha doin’ there, tyke, like some bad mockery of what a father might have said in a movie. He spent his evenings in front of the television, still in his slacks, his shirt unbuttoned just enough that you could see the collar of his undershirt below. He didn’t watch hockey like Pierre had, and he didn’t watch reality like Mama did when she was over. Instead he watched the news, for hours; local, international, right and centre . Segment after segment: Sports, financial, breaking, exposés. He’d lean forward on the sofa, forearms planted on his knees. If I offered him a bite of a snack, he’d wave me away. Never cruelly; he was never cruel. But there was something hurtful about the dismissals nonetheless.

When it came around to bedtime, 10:30 PM sharp every day, 10:00 on Sundays (to give his week a fresh start, he said) he’d brush his teeth and comb his hair and shed his uniform. He’d stand before me in his undershirt and his boxers, resplendent, angelic, looking over me.

None of this was to say we never spoke. We spoke quite often, about trivial things, even. But the conversation that sticks out most to me now happened in the dead of winter, the same as the first we’d ever had. The lights were all off in the kitchen except for the flashlight of my phone. I was smoking. Francis had decided to go to bed without taking her glass of milk but she’d decided this after I’d already poured it, and I couldn’t stand thinking of it all alone in the fridge, so I was taking perfunctory sips at it, lips slathered in lipstick I’d stolen from the Shopper’s down the street.

He came in while I ogled the red mark on the rim of my glass, smudged but stark. I remembered Giulia who I’d gone to college with, because she’d said red was my colour once at a party. He was holding a letter, one of the letters I’d written for you but never posted. I watched them in his hand for a few moments and he watched me, both of us assessing.

“I think Francis must’ve put it in my briefcase,” he said finally.

“Okay,” I said.

“I’m not mad,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. Then I said this: “I make a bad whore.”

He slid the letter across the island to me. It shot through my light’s field of vision like an adder.

He said something else. I don’t remember what. The Klonopin blurred most of. But I remember the way he’d shrugged. I remember the way he slid a finger through his belt loop. He said: “Do you ever get so sad you can hardly walk?”

I took another drag. He twisted the finger in the loop once, twice.

When he realized I wasn’t going to say anything he said, “You can write to whoever you want. You don’t have to hide it. They said in the news that keeping secrets begets domestic violence. I’m not that kind of guy. I just mean, you don’t have to keep this one. That’s all.” And he lumbered off to the bedroom. I sipped contemplatively at my milk, studying his retreating form, the broadness of the his upper back and the acne scars that peeked out at me like stars while he slept.  

[gossipontheasphalt]

Weird Things That Have Happened During a NASCAR Race

Weird and unusual moments. Every professional sport has had a strange thing happen during a game, and NASCAR is no different. I’m going to be going over some unusual things that have happened during NASCAR races.

During the cup series race at Watkins Glen in 2007, while the race was under the red flag, a fan actually climbed over the fence and went onto the racetrack. He then went over to Matt Kenseth’s passenger side window and began to ask for his autograph. First, how the hell did this guy manage to get past security? I get that this was back in 2007, but seriously, security at a sporting event should not be this laughably bad in the twenty first century. I am also curious, did alcohol have anything to do with this? I am inclined to think that it must have, what ordinary person what do something this dumb?

Seven years later at Richmond raceway in 2014, the race had to be put under caution, because a fan began climbing the catchfence. It wasn’t shown on tv as it happened, because NASCAR didn’t want their viewing audience to attempt something like that. I’m beginning to think that these weirdos are related, or at least know each other in some way.

Now this next one happened in the garage area. During an Xfinity series race at Atlanta in 2022, a tractor trailer was about to leave the racetrack, and attempted to exit through a tunnel that was too short. This went about as well as you’d expect. I’ve heard stories of tractor trailers and tall busses getting stuck under tunnels on the interstate, but I haven’t heard of it happening during a sporting event.

That same year during a race at Road America, NASCAR Xfinity series driver Josh Bilicki accidentally went and hit a Sargento sign. He then drove back onto the racing surface, with the sign stuck to the front of his car. And then came the funny part. After the race, Sargento ended up becoming one of his sponsors. This is probably one of the weirdest ways an athlete has gotten a sponsor, in the history of professional sports.

I’m going to end this off, with a weird incident that happened during the 2010 Daytona 500. The race had to be red flagged, due to a hole in the racetrack. Now a NASCAR racetrack is much more different than a regular road. Due to the cars being so low to the ground, you need the surface to be as flat as possible. On a normal road, you would just fill the hole with cement and call it a day. But in NASCAR, after filling the hole, you really need to smooth it out, it has to be a perfectly even surface. Well, someone didn’t do their job properly because once the race resumed, it had to be stopped again, because the track came apart again and left another hole in the exact same location. After that they were able to go the rest of the race without the track coming apart. It’s ludicrous that the track workers had to fix the same thing twice.

Well, that’s it for today. If you have your own opinions about weird things that have happened during a race, let me know in the comments, and I might consider making a part 2. Bye.