#BOPS YOU LEGEND

[fcbruuds]

WE FINALLY WON A TROPHY LETS GO 😭🫶🏼🇮🇳

[noirandchocolate]

Thanks, please do! Anything you say, beautiful!

No more violence? Sooga are you saying we can be best friends now?

Oh. I see how it is. :<

[the-au-collector]

YES CHOKE WOULD ABSOLUTELY BE LEGEND’S SONG

I like to imagine Legend playing the electric guitar. He probably sings songs like Choke (I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME) and Monsters (All Time Low [feat. blackbear])

[madridnoora]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Pedri - The Manager's Daughter II

⋆｡˚Pairing - pedri x fem!reader

౨ৎ Summary - You haven't seen Pedri in months, not since that night in Madrid but the day you had been dreading approaches. It's your fathers first El Clasico, and of course he made you attend.

⋆｡˚Word Count - 3.7k

౨ৎ Warnings - angst!, yearning!, forbidden romance! suggestive content.

part one - the manager's daughter.

౨ৎ

The santiago bernabeu was electric, the air so thick with tension and rivalry. El clasico was so much more than just a game, the green turn was no longer a field but a battleground. The centre stage where pride, history and passion all collided.

You sit in the family section beside your mother and siblings, just behind the home bench of your father's team Real Madrid, with a pounding heart because tonight is the night.

It's been five months since you left that room on a summer morning in Madrid, after you had spent the night with him. "Spent the night' seems like an understatement because it stained you for much longer than that. If felt much more than that. He opened you up and found you that night. Lost souls bonding. And then you left like it meant nothing, because it couldn't mean anything. You're white, he's blue and garnet. You're forbidden, off limits. Two bodies that should have never touched.

But you did, and now you're here, sat in a white top with Mbappe on the back and a Real Madrid scarf wrapped around your neck to protect your skin from the kiss of winter.

You tried to get out of coming, tried to make up any excuse but none of it worked. You're father was adamant you be here to support him and you're mother agreed citing the importance of family unity.

For the past five months, you have thought of him every night. Even when you tried your hardest not too. Even when you were wrapped in the arms in another man. The guy you were casually seeing, the one you picked up off a cringey dating app to try and distract yourself from him.

Pedri.

Fucking Pedri.

He came it to your life like a dark storm and destroyed everything in it with his stupid honey coloured eyes, and his stupid lips and the stupid way he touched you like nobody else could.

You bite at your nails, the ones you painted white in the spirit of tonights game. You foot bops up and down and you feel sick thinking about seeing him. In a way you just want to get it over with, see him, feel that gravitational pull of lust and whatever the other strange feeling is that lingers in your chest, then never see him again.

The lights of the stadium illuminates the green turf and the stands which are full of white shirts. Anticipation looms as Hala Madrid! plays through the speakers and the crowd thunders out the words. It's so loud you can feel it beating in your chest. You've never been in an atmosphere like it.

When the players begin to exit the tunnel, you stand up and applaud like everyone else in the stands.

You can't help but smile with pride when you see your father lead them out in his suit and tie. His face so unemotional and focussed, you never usually saw him like that because at home he was just your dad and not football legend Xabi Alonso. That cold look breaks when he comes to stand in the managers box just in front of where you're sat, and his straight lips jump into a proud smile. You wave quickly, because even though your now twenty one you will always be his little girl. His favourite child although he would never admit it.

You don't notice, but Pedri is watching you. His jaw slacked the moment he saw you as he lined up for the anthems and handshakes.

The feeling he had laid awake craving for the past five months came flooding back into the marrow of his bones.

That hunger, that lust, that passion and the ache to touch your soul again.

His eyes trailed you up and down as you stood to give your dad a wave and a quick thumbs up, he knew you had not seen him and he took advantage of it. You're hair was slicked back into a bun, you're skin glowing under the white floodlights rather than the red lights in a club. A real madrid scarf wrapped around your neck, that hurt but it was too be expected.

The jersey hurt more.

Number 9. Mbappe's.

Real Madrid's princess in the jersey of Real Madrid's starboy.

Jealousy and borderline anger swirls in his stomach, the feeling aching his organs. His clenches his hands, only briefly, a fist balled and gone in seconds. His jaw tightens and he rolls his neck out.

Where you and Mbappe a thing? It would make sense. A perfect couple.

Pedri has to close his eyes, and looks away from you. He can't handle it. You make him feel so much of everything. You frustrate him, but you also excite him. He can't tell if he hates you or wants to have you. Maybe it's both. He thinks it's both.

He lets out a big puff of air and locks his mind onto winning this game because if you are dating Mbappe, Pedri is going to make sure to embarrass him in front of you.

In the stands, your eyes drift to him but he's not looking at you. He's focussed and his thick brows are so furrowed that he almost looks angry. His jaw is stiff and sharp, it makes you remember kissing it. His stubble is slightly grown out and it's making you almost purr. Your bodies reaction betraying your mind.

It's all coming back, the memories of that night. The way he felt inside you, and the way he nipped at your skin with your teeth. The way he grunted and groaned your name like it was his gospel.

Lust lingers beneath the surface of your skin like a vibration. Frustration burns it.

You smooth the jersey you're wearing just to give your hands something to do.

A few moments later, the whistle blew and the game kicked off.

The match began. The match in the centre of your chest lit.

You tried to stop your eyes drifting to number 8, but it's hard to stop the pull of a two magnets. You watched as he controlled Barcelona's tempo with every pass and creation of every play. His vision of the game and his skill on the ball was breathtaking or maybe that was just because of how much seeing him made you want him again. He captivated you, and not just with the memories of his tongue running across your flaming skin but with the way he seemed to breath football. The ball was merely an extension of him, connected and controlled.

Minutes felt like hours with the tension in the stadium. This game was so personal, so much more. So much history.

Your father was yelling on the sideline, your hands were in a prayer shape over your plump nude lips. You wanted him to win so bad, wanted your dad to prove to the world just how good you knew he could be.

But Barcelona were making it difficult, Pedri was making it difficult.

He was running riot in the midfield. Interceptions left and right, putting pressure on the boys in white. He even managed to outskill Mbappe at one point. He was giving the best performance of his career. It made you shift in the plastic seat, brushing the white jersey again. Number 9 on your back in black because it was the closest to Number 8.

When half time came, the score was 0-0 but the game had been far from boring. It was so intense, chance after chance, shot after shot. In all honesty it was a goalkeeping masterclass on both sides.

Blood would be drawn but it would come in the second half.

You father didn't even look up as he walked into the tunnel making your brows furrow in sadness. Once you watched him go, your eyes looked back without much thought.

They caught the honey brown orbs of Pedri.

He was watching you already, because when you were near him he couldn't help himself.

Everything fades into a low humming, a ringing in your ears and all you can feel is the strong thrum of your beating heart. You swallow the lump wedged in your throat.

Pedri lifts a gloved hand and wipes the sweat from his forehead, he had just put in the greatest first half of his career. The spanish newspapers already writing their article for tomorrow, but he wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about you and how he was doing it all just to impress you, just to make sure you realised Mbappe was the wrong guy.

Pedri dropped his eyes first, his own heart pounding more now than it had been after running on the field for forty five minutes straight. Why was it you, the one girl in the world that was off limits, that made him feel this way? His body alive with current and tingling under your doe eyed gaze.

When he saw you it was like being cracked by lightening.

Ignited and sparked.

He walked into the tunnel with his head down, ready to focus back on the game. He needed to win, there was no excuse and everything was still left to play for.

The bernabeu was deafening as it stood around her at the beginning of the second half. The chants, the whistles every time a rival player touched the ball. The place beat with a heart of it's own. White scarfs twisting like small tornados as fans tried to increase the energy of their boys in white.

You sat still. Even though all around you were stood. Pedri's eyes had struck you still. It hurt to look at him and you wondered if it hurt him to look at you.

You played with the tassels of your scarf just to give your hands something to do other than shake.

The camera's panned to you and your family for only a few moments, on the outside you were thankful you looked calm, poised even. A lifted chin and a face filled with pride rather than worry. You looked like the daughter of a legend, but inside you were coming undone by a boy with the potential to be one.

You sit yearning just to feel him again. Your body needs him like flowers need the sun.

In the fifty fourth minute, it happened.

Pedri, with the ball at his feet, danced passed defenders finding gaps that no one else could see. Fluid and precise. He took a shot, outside the box, and the ball soared into the top corner of the net with such powerful force. It was a perfect goal.

A goal that sent the stadium into a stunned silence. Shouts only coming from the Barcelona fans in the away section.

You stood too in nothing but disbelief. You breaths heavy, your chest rising up and down.

You watched him sprint towards the corner flag with his tongue out and arms wide in celebration. His teammates swarmed him. Slapping him on the back and offering him passionate hugs.

It was displayed on the big screen, his smile and his flushed cheeks. His usually puffy hair wet and sticking to the sheen of his forehead. It was cruel of god to make an untouchable man so attractive. It was like some sort of sick joke, like the universe was teasing you. Dangling something you can't have, not in public anyway.

That dull ache bloomed in you're chest like something so fatal, hiding in the creases carved between your ribs.

When Pedri was let free by his teammates, he looked at you and winked. Smugly. So handsomely. It made your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. He's flirting with you so boldly, openly and in front of your father but in a way that only you two would know.

He knows you're watching him, that you have been the whole game and that he's playing the most incredible football he ever has.

He feels unstoppable. He feels like he's got you. He feels like he's just sealed the games fate. He's on top of the world.

But then he's not.

Because minutes later, the man whose name you wear on your back scored. Mbappe's retaliation is beautiful and satisfying. It wipes the smile of Pedri face. It creates a scowl instead, especially when he sees you jump up from your seat and scream in glee filled celebration.

You gave Mbappe a celebration you could never give him.

That jealousy rattled him again. More forceful this time. He yelled into his hands, Spanish swear words flying into his palms in annoyance. Barcelona's defence has switched off, in a game where they had to be on all the time.

Barcelona had to do better if they wanted to destroy their rivals on their home turf.

And after the score turned 1-1, they did do better.

A new life struck them.

The game became even more fierce, and even more fast paced. Gavi thundered into tackles, Bellingham danced the ball with brilliance. Tensions built and built. Words spitting, yellow cards being flashed left and right.

You held your breath when Pedri ended up in an altercation with Mbappe. Hands pushing chests, foreheads pressing foreheads. Players separating them. And even though you're in the stands, you some how feel like you're in the middle of it. That Pedri's frustration comes from the fact you're in another man's jersey.

The game continued on.

Barcelona scored again, a rebound off the woodwork and flicked in by the experienced Lewandowski.

Then, they scored their third in the dying minutes of the game. An incredible volley from the young yamal. It hit the net like a bullet shot from a gun.

The bernabeu was deflated, your father was deflated. Thousands of people sunk back into their seats, head buried in the scarfs they were once swinging. Bitterness lingered in the air, Barcelona had got the best of them tonight.

The final whistle blew. Real Madrid's heads dropped while the men in blue and garnet jumped all around the field in celebration.

You stood up, gathering your things and following your family into the hallways of the stadium to wait for your father to finish his job. Usually, you would just leave but you're mother said it was important to stay and support him on a difficult night, so you stayed. You waited while he went through all his press obligations and as he tried to pick up the spirit of his beaten players.

The rest of the stadium had emptied. The corridors eerily quiet as the fans left. You were walking around aimlessly and with boredem, not really knowing where your feet were taking you but it was more entertaining than sitting in a waiting room staring at a blank wall.

You walked for a little longer until the noise of studs pull yours eyes in a direction.

You have to scoff, because who else would it be.

Pedri.

You don't know where you are in the stadium but you get the feeling you're on territory you shouldn't be because he looks shocked and he's shirtless with damp curls and droplets of water trailing down his toned stomach. Some loose black shorts around his waist and a water bottle in his hand.

Flashes of you on top of him cross your mind but you shake them away.

You felt the sparks flying. You felt his steel hit your flint.

You both stood, paused like you were both scared to move. The silence stretched on, the tension thickening in the air like a morning fog.

Then, he smirked. That stupid fucking smirk. The one of quiet confidence, the one which tells you that he remembers the effect he has on you. The one which tell you that he knows five months hasn't changed a single thing.

His eyes flicker to your jersey.

"Tough luck, Princess," His voice is hoarse and raw, full of charged emotion and arrogance.

You lean on a cocked hip, trying not to stare at his abs.

"You'll lose next time," You say, holding your chin high.

He laughed.

"I'm serious, we'll be better next time," You continue with a furrowed brow.

He looked at you, actually more through you than anything.

"We," He repeated. "Is he, we?,". His tone straightens as he nods to the nine in the centre of your stomach.

"Well, he plays for my dad, so yes,"

"Does he play for more?," You know what he's asking for you and you can't tell if you hate it or love it. You know it makes you hot under the scarf that now feels too tight around your neck, but is that from attraction or anger.

"I told you footballers aren't my thing, I meant that." You tell him with tight lips.

"Si, and then we fucked," He shrugged.

You're jaw dropped, like he had just slapped you. It was arrogant and rude, and your stomach betrayed you by flipping.

"Fuck you,"

Pedri licked his teeth holding back a smile because he loved to see you this wound up. The way your cheeks were tinted with a rose, and the small crease between your eyebrows. The slight vein on the side of your head poking under the smooth skin.

He moved slightly closer, and it was beginning to feel like the club hallway all over again but he's already shirtless. No alcohol to blame either. Just you and him. The raw energy of something forbidden sizzling between you.

You can smell him, he's freshly showered and lingers of jasmine. The cardamon and grapefruit cologne sticking sweetly to his skin.

"You already did," He smiles under his breath because at heart he's still just a boy.

"You're so immature," You roll your eyes, then blinking hard trying to will away the heat between your thighs. Not here. It can't be here. "and annoying," You add on.

He keeps moving closer, backing you to a wall.

"Keep talking dirty," His eyes now gleaming with something like primal hunger and possession.

"God, you're insufferable sober,"

Your back hit the cold wall.

"Then walk away," He challenges.

You stay put because you can't do it, even though your mind wants to your body betrays you in every way.

"Exactly," Pedri whispers with nothing but ego as he inches closer to you, his arm pressing to the wall above your shoulder.

Your whole body was tense, because you knew he wasn't bluffing. You knew that look in his eye -- wild and focused, the same way he looked at you in the club and beneath him in the dark bed sheets you gripped onto.

"I hate you," You whisper against his lips.

"You don't, and that is what you hate,"

Then, like deja vu, he crashed his lips into your again in the middle of your father stadium. You fall into him like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Your hands in his air, his on your hips. You've done it all before but it will never get old.

This feeling would never die.

When you pull apart you're breathless. So is he. You're hands are resting on his bare chest and you can't help the way you're smiling.

"Give me your phone," You order him quickly and quietly, scared of who could come round the corner at any moment.

You type in the address to the studio apartment you had began renting in the cities suburbs. A private sanctuary away from home, one that your father pays half the rent for. That makes this even more wrong.

"It's my place, come at midnight and don't let anyone see you" You spoke quickly, then you push him back and adjust your jersey. You bring a finger and wipe around you lips to rid any smudged lipstick. Then you walk away, not looking back.

He watches you because you're unbelievable and everything you do makes his head a dizzying mess.

Midnight.

Only a few hours away.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

Your apartment was dark, only lit by a few candles when you heard the knock on the door. Not too loud, not too desperate -- just enough to let you know he was here.

You hesitated a few seconds before you opened the door. Not wanting to seem like you were eager or like you had been waiting for him on the couch for thirty minutes.

00:21

That was the time. He was twenty one minutes late. You thought he wasn't coming at one point but no he just wanted you to wait. Teasing you before he had even arrived.

You answered the door in a grey sweatshirt and some brandy melville teddy bear shorts. Your legs smooth and bare from the shower you had taken. You hair now down and wavy, slightly messy around your bare face.

He stood on the other side with the hood of his black hood up and hiding his face. His hands in the pockets of his grey sweats.

You're purring inside.

You step to the side to let him in and shut the door behind him.

The charged tension is back in the atmosphere around, lingering like a rain cloud about to break free.

It's just you and him now. No jerseys, no football. Just two people trying not to give in to something so obvious.

It was awkward for a few seconds, neither of you wanting to make the first move but when it gets to much and too overwhelming he break its.

He kissed you again with that same passion he always seemed too. A sensual mix of heat, hunger and tenderness.

You fell apart in his arms as you made your way to the bedroom, ripping off each others clothes on the way. Panting breaths and hushed moans the only noise in the place.

Before you can even catch a breath, he's inside you and it feels like home. You're biting at his shoulder to keep quiet, he's grunting into the hair covering your ear. You're skin is sticky with a light sweat.

It goes on like that all night. Different positions, coming undone for him each time, over and over.

Then you fall asleep in his arms, until the morning light wakes you up.

This time, you can't run and Pedri is still here.

The air feels different than last time, like this meant something more.

Like something had snapped into place and you were set on a path you could never stray from.

Like you and Pedri had just become a dirty little secret fated to exist again and again.

౨ৎ

(a/n - let me know if you want this series to continue :P)

[kathlare]

Hiii!! Finally revealing myself as the anon who comments on all ur posts (embarrassing ik) but I’m genuinely so invested in this story!! I was wondering could we perchance have a continuation of the austria fic that includes smut 🥹🥹 ty!!

Hiiiii omg STOP that is not embarrassing at all — you have no idea how much I appreciate you and your comments, seriously 🥹💗 You make my day every time!!

And YES your wish is my command 😏 I’m bringing you that smutty chapter you asked for — it’s not right after the Austria GP, but it is set shortly after and let’s just say… it’s Lando’s well-earned prize 👀🔥 I really hope you like it!! Thank you again for all the love and support, it means the world 💕

shameless

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie navigate a day filled with warmth, love, and questionable decision-making.

Wordcount: 7.7 k

Warnings: smut

full masterlist // request over here!

July 2nd, 2025 - London, United Kingdom

liked by f1gfenergy, lanofan666, and others

ameliedayman: Because of you- Manchild is my first debut #1 in the US and the UK 🙏🏼 I love you so much it don’t make no sense! thank you endlessly!

View all 95,083 comments

landonorris: so proud of you. now play it on loop for the rest of time pls → ameliedayman: @landonorris already made it your morning alarm x → savnorris: @ameliedayman not you torturing him in his sleep too 💀 → landonorris: @savnorris it slaps. i’m not mad. just very awake

stelladayman: MY SISTER IS A CHART-TOPPING ICON!!! → ameliedayman: @stelladayman let’s get matching #1 tattoos or what → callumdayman: @ameliedayman i want no part of that but congrats legend

maxfewtrell: new national anthem → ameliedayman: @maxfewtrell we’re performing it at your wedding, hope you know → maxfewtrell: @ameliedayman even if you're not invited? → landonorris: @maxfewtrell she’ll be there. everywhere. always.

lanmelie4ever: LANDO GOT A #1 GIRLFRIEND AND I GOT A NEW FAVORITE SONG → gridbabiez: @lanmelie4ever he’s the real winner honestly → turn3terror: @lanmelie4ever yeah but so are we. we EAT with every drop

screechingtires: no bc “fuck my life won’t you let an innocent woman be” is my roman empire → softcurbstan: @screechingtires screaming it out the car window all summer long 😭

musictwtmess: this song is literally ✨therapy✨ for people who date men → dumbblondiedayman: @musictwtmess and she made it sound like a beach road trip. genius → manchildtruthers: @dumbblondiedayman can’t believe she healed me with a bop

savnorris: i knew it was a hit the moment you sang “i choose to blame your mom” → ameliedayman: @savnorris justice for fictional boy moms everywhere

georgerussell63: 10/10 banger. lyrics hit a lil too hard 😅 → ameliedayman: @georgerussell63 hmmmmm george you ok? want to talk? → alex_albon: @georgerussell63 blink twice

elysiadayman: You deserve it ALL. we’re screaming in this house 🥹 → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman next dinner’s on me

mclarenhater88: y’all really acting like she’s talented when she only gets attention bc of her boyfriend 💀

lanmeliebrainrot: manchild being about dating dumb men and then her man being her #1 fan is my FAVORITE irony → thelanfiles: @lanmeliebrainrot lando promoting it like it’s about his enemies not himself 😭

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

Amelie stirred slowly, lashes fluttering against sunlit skin as the faint chirping of birds filtered through the window of Lando’s childhood bedroom. She shifted under the soft duvet, arm instinctively reaching for the warm body she expected beside her—but there was none. Her fingers brushed over empty sheets, still faintly warm, and she blinked her eyes open with a frown.

—Lan?— she mumbled groggily.

Silence.

The room smelled like him—clean cotton, a bit of his cologne, faint motor oil clinging to something old in the air—but it was just her. Alone in a bed that wasn’t hers, in a house that wasn’t hers, but somehow still felt like theirs.

She sat up, hair an unholy mess of blonde waves, eyes still puffy from sleep. Her gaze swept across the room: scattered hoodies, a framed old karting photo on the dresser, a signed cap of his own on the bookshelf. And then, by the lamp, she spotted it.

A bright yellow post-it stuck to the nightstand.

Amelie squinted as she reached for it.

Out for a bit, sunshine. Be back soon. Mum’s downstairs if you need anything. Love you x — Lando

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a smile anyway.

—Post-its again? Really?— she muttered to herself, shaking her head.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. Back in 2022, when everything between them was a wreck and words were too much to say out loud, they used to communicate like this. Stupid sticky notes on bathroom mirrors, on gym bags, on fridge doors. Back then they felt like apologies and things left unsaid.

Now they just felt soft.

Warm.

Loved.

Still, she flopped back on the bed for a beat, groaning into the pillow before dragging herself upright again. If she was about to see his mum, she needed to look at least semi-human. Lando’s family might adore her, but showing up downstairs in just one of his t-shirts with mascara smudged halfway to her temples wasn’t exactly the vibe.

She dragged herself to the little ensuite bathroom, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and pulled her hair into a quick low bun. Then she changed into a simple outfit she’d packed just in case—wide-leg jeans, a cute knit top, minimal makeup, and the dainty gold necklace Cameron had given her one Christmas with a tiny "A" engraved on it.

After a moment of consideration, she swiped on a bit of blush.

—Okay, presentable. Let’s not scare the Norris family today,— she mumbled to herself as she stepped into the hallway.

The house was warm and quiet, old floors creaking gently as she made her way downstairs, nerves fluttering in her chest like they always did right before she saw them. It didn’t matter how many times they'd welcomed her or how many cups of tea his mum made her—being in his space still carried that little electric weight.

But the second she stepped into the entryway—

Her breath caught.

There he was. Right in the middle of the living room, facing the door like he’d been waiting for her.

Lando.

In a cream hoodie and grey joggers, curls still slightly damp like he’d just showered. And in his hands...

A bouquet of yellow tulips.

Bright, brilliant, sun-drenched tulips.

The grin that lit up his face when he saw her was the kind of thing that made her stomach do cartwheels. That stupid, sweet sparkle in his eyes he only gave to her. Like she hung the damn moon.

—You’re back,— she whispered, a smile pulling at her lips.

—You’re up,— he countered softly, holding out the flowers.

She stepped into his arms without hesitation, burying her face in the tulips for a second before dropping them slightly to kiss him. Soft and slow and then deeper, more urgent. She missed him, even if it had only been a couple hours. Her hands slid into his hoodie and up under the fabric, fingertips pressing into the skin of his lower back.

—These are beautiful,— she murmured between kisses, her voice breathy.

Lando grinned, nose brushing hers. —You’re beautiful. But yeah… they’re for you. Yellow tulips. Thought they matched the sunshine thing you’ve got going on.—

—Lan…—

—And also, congrats, superstar.— He kissed her cheek, then her jaw. —Number one in the US and UK? You’re fucking magic, Ames. I’m so proud of you.—

She kissed him again, hands framing his jaw now, eyes shining.

—You’re gonna make me cry before breakfast,— she mumbled into his mouth.

—Good. Then I won’t be the only emotional one here,— Lando said with a lopsided smile, his hands coming to rest on her waist. —I nearly cried when I saw the charts yesterday, not gonna lie.—

Amelie rolled her eyes with a grin. —You always nearly cry when I hit number one.—

—Because it keeps happening and it still doesn’t feel real,— he replied earnestly. —Do you have any idea how fucking proud of you I am?—

Before she could answer, a dramatic cough echoed through the room.

They both froze mid-kiss and turned toward the hallway to see Flo standing there with a bowl of cereal in hand, eyebrows raised and an exaggerated look of disgust on her face.

—Jesus Christ. It’s not even noon. Can we not have a full PDA fest in the middle of the house? This is a common area, you two.—

Amelie let out a soft laugh, still pressed against Lando’s chest, her face warm and glowing. Lando groaned and dropped his forehead to hers in defeat.

—Flo, I literally haven’t kissed her in, like, seven hours.—

—Tragic,— Flo deadpanned, taking a bite of cereal. —But my Cheerios didn’t consent to witnessing tongue warfare on a Wednesday morning. Dial it back. PG-13, please.—

Amelie snorted, hiding her face in Lando’s hoodie. —Sorry, Florence.—

—You’re not sorry,— she muttered, eyeing them both with that sibling sort of judgment that was 60% sarcasm and 40% true concern.

—She’s really not,— Lando added with a grin, pressing another kiss to the side of Amelie’s head just to be petty.

Flo rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of her skull. —Mum said to tell you both breakfast’s ready. Also, she’s pretending she didn’t hear anything from upstairs earlier but she definitely heard you giggling in bed at like 1 a.m.—

Amelie blinked. —We weren’t... I was just... we were watching that stupid cooking show and he kept making fun of the guy’s risotto, I wasn’t even... oh my god.—

—Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you sleep at night, Amelie. Anyway, I’m taking this upstairs. Try to keep it in your pants for, like, ten minutes. Bye.—

She disappeared just as dramatically as she entered, bare feet thudding on the steps, bowl in hand.

Lando turned back to Amelie, who was beet red and trying very hard not to laugh.

—We’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and you’ve already corrupted my sister.—

—She’s uncorruptible,— Amelie argued with a smirk. —Also, you started the tongue warfare.—

—You started it the moment you walked downstairs looking like that.—

Amelie grinned and swatted his chest. —I was trying to look decent for your family, not seduce you in the foyer.—

—Well. Mission failed. You’re indecently hot, and now I’m distracted.—

She kissed him again, quick and soft, and then pulled back to look at the flowers still in her hands. Tulips were her favorite. Yellow meant happiness, hope, sunshine. He always remembered the little things.

—You’re the best, Lan. Really.—

—No, you’re the best.— He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. —And you deserve every number one that comes your way. You work harder than anyone I know. I’m just lucky I get to love you while you take over the world.—

She leaned into his touch, eyes soft. —You’re gonna make me cry again.—

—Then cry. I’ll still be here. With tulips. And kisses. And potentially more tongue if Flo isn’t around.—

Amelie laughed as he took her hand and started guiding her toward the kitchen. The familiar hum of the kettle boiling, the scent of toast and butter wafting through the air, and Cisca’s voice humming softly from the next room made the house feel warm and lived-in, like she belonged here. Like they belonged here.

And honestly?

It did feel like home.

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

gracieabrams replied to your story

gracieabrams: he gave you flowers again didn’t he ameliedayman: maybe 😇 gracieabrams: girl it’s been a YEAR and he’s still in simp mode ameliedayman: and i fear i love it gracieabrams: stay soft forever

maxfewtrell replied to your story

maxfewtrell: stop showing off some of us are unlovable ameliedayman: lmao BYEEE maxfewtrell: he gets you flowers and i get ghosted by him ameliedayman: u deserve tulips too maxie :( maxfewtrell: tell lando to send me some

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc: so when do i get flowers ameliedayman: when u start wearing sunscreen charles_leclerc: never mind then charles_leclerc: enjoy ur petals 🙄

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63: 12 months in and he’s still flower-boy level whipped ameliedayman: and you say it like it’s a bad thing georgerussell63: no i’m just taking notes georgerussell63: i fear lando is the blueprint

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon: are you trying to make us all look bad or ameliedayman: babe i didn’t even tag him alex_albon: doesn’t matter we all KNOW ameliedayman: lando’s era of soft launch ended 400 days ago 💀

elysiadayman replied to your story

elysiadayman: he sent those didn’t he ameliedayman: yes 🥹 elysiadayman: tell your little british golden retriever he’s dangerously close to making the family like him TOO much ameliedayman: he already made mom cry with the last bouquet elysiadayman: UGH he’s good

sydney_sweeney replied to your story

sydney_sweeney: yellow tulips AGAIN??? ameliedayman: 😇 sydney_sweeney: he’s in his eraameliedayman: he never left it sydney_sweeney: manifesting that kind of devotion tbh

tchalamet replied to your story

tchalamet: he did it again huh ameliedayman: 💛 tchalamet: this is some poetic cinema shit ameliedayman: the tulips got a tighter arc than most films rn

billieeilish replied to your story

billieeilish: y’all are gross ameliedayman: say it with love pls billieeilish: i mean it in the most affectionate jealous way billieeilish: also those are SO yellow wtf ameliedayman: sunshine coded 🫶

minniemills replied to your story

minniemills: don’t tell me those are from who i THINK they’re from ameliedayman: they are minniemills: oh he’s sick in the HEAD over you ameliedayman: he really is huh minniemills: not jealous not jealous not jealous

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

The kitchen smelled like garlic and olive oil, something faintly herby sizzling in a pan as Cisca moved with graceful ease between the stove and the counter, her apron tied neatly over a soft linen blouse. Amelie stood beside her with a wooden spoon in hand, sleeves rolled up, face lit with concentration as she followed Cisca’s instructions down to the letter.

—Now, careful with the white wine. Just a splash,— Cisca said, holding up the bottle.

Amelie nodded and poured slowly. —Like… that? Or am I making soup?—

Cisca chuckled. —That’s perfect. You’re a natural. Better than Lando, anyway.—

—That bar is underground,— Amelie teased, glancing at her with a warm grin. —Last time he tried to boil water, he forgot to put the lid on and nearly set off the alarm.—

—That sounds about right.— Cisca reached over to taste the sauce with a wooden spoon, then offered Amelie a bit. —Here, tell me what you think.—

Amelie took a small taste, her eyes widening. —Oh my god. That’s so good. I’m writing this down. I’m literally stealing this recipe and pretending it’s mine at dinner parties.—

—You’re welcome to it, darling,— Cisca said warmly, smiling at her in that easy, maternal way that always managed to settle something soft inside Amelie.

There was a moment of quiet while Amelie chopped some fresh basil, the knife rhythmic against the board, and Cisca glanced at her from the stove. Her expression shifted—gentle, thoughtful.

—You know,— she said quietly, —I don’t think I’ve told you this before. Not properly.—

Amelie looked up, eyebrows raised. —Told me what?—

—How happy we are to have you back. All of us.— Cisca smiled, hands resting on the countertop. —You’ve always been special to Lando, even when he didn’t know how to say it. We saw it. Felt it. And now that you’re here again, really here… he’s the happiest I’ve seen him in years.—

Amelie blinked, caught off guard by the emotion in Cisca’s voice.

—Cisca…—

—We love you like you’re one of ours. I hope you know that. And no matter what happens in this crazy life, you’ll always have a home here.—

Amelie swallowed hard, heart swelling. She glanced down, pretending to wipe her hands on the towel, but really trying not to get too teary over lunch.

—You’re gonna make me cry into your pasta sauce,— she said with a soft laugh. —And I really don’t want to ruin your perfect meal.—

Cisca reached over and squeezed her hand. —He’s a better man when you’re around, Amelie. Don’t ever doubt it.—

In the living room, just a few steps away, Lando sat curled into the corner of the couch, still barefoot and in the same hoodie from earlier, laughing under his breath at something his dad had said. Adam leaned back in the armchair across from him, one arm resting casually on the side table, watching his son with that kind of quiet, unspoken pride that didn’t need much explanation.

They could both see into the kitchen from where they sat—see Amelie laughing as she stirred a pot, Cisca tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The soft domesticity of it made the moment feel like something suspended in amber.

—She fits in well, doesn’t she?— Adam said, voice low.

Lando glanced toward the kitchen and smiled like an idiot. —Too well. It’s like she never left.—

Adam gave him a knowing look. —You know, your mum and I talked about it last night. We’ve never seen you this steady. This grounded.—

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face. —Yeah… I know.—

—Is it serious?—

Lando looked at his dad and didn’t even hesitate.

—She’s it. I’m sure. One hundred percent. Like… I know everyone says “you just know” and it sounds like crap until it’s you, but I do. I know.—

Adam’s smile deepened, eyes crinkling as he looked back toward the kitchen, where Amelie was now gesturing wildly with the spoon as she told Cisca some story—something about a ruined risotto and a broken heel at the BRITs that made Cisca throw her head back in laughter.

—You’ve changed since she came back into your life,— Adam said quietly. —In the best ways. Less noise in your head. More… focus. Like you’re finally breathing properly again.—

Lando didn’t answer immediately. He was still watching her—his girl, his heart, barefoot in his mother’s kitchen like she belonged there, because she did. Like she’d always been part of this family, because she had. She was moving around so naturally, talking with his mum like they’d done this a hundred times. Her laugh echoed softly off the kitchen tile, and Lando felt it in his chest.

He finally spoke, his voice low and steady.

—When we broke things off the first time, I told myself I’d be fine. That it was for the best. But I wasn’t fine, Dad. Not even close.—

Adam turned fully toward him now, listening.

—Every win, every podium, every moment that should’ve felt big just… didn’t. Not really. Not without her. And then when we found our way back to each other, after everything, it was like someone finally turned the lights back on.—

Lando sat forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes still locked on the kitchen.

—It’s not just love, you know? It’s... peace. She gives me that. Even on the hardest days, when everything else feels like a storm, she’s the thing that calms it down. It’s her. Always has been.—

Adam nodded slowly, taking that in. —Then hold on to her. Build something with her. If you know, don’t waste time pretending you don’t.—

Lando leaned back, his smile soft and so real it hurt.

—Already planning on it.—

In the kitchen, Amelie was plating the pasta now, Cisca sliding roasted vegetables onto a tray beside her. The air smelled rich and delicious, a scent that felt like comfort and memory and new beginnings all at once.

Amelie turned as she laughed at something Cisca said, tucking a flyaway curl behind her ear with one hand and holding the serving spoon with the other. She was radiant—flushed from the heat of the kitchen, her gold necklace catching the light, eyes sparkling with ease and joy.

Lando’s gaze didn’t leave her. His heart felt full in a way he couldn’t explain.

Cisca glanced over her shoulder and caught her son watching. She raised a knowing brow.

—Lando! Come help set the table, you lazy thing. Your dad too.—

Lando stood with a smirk, glancing once more at his dad.

—She’s going to be part of our future, you know. Not just mine. Ours.—

Adam clapped a hand on his shoulder as they made their way toward the kitchen.

—Then let’s make sure she knows she always has a place in it.—

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

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63: bro you’ve been living dangerously since day 1 landonorris: i fear for my life every meal georgerussell63: but like in a romantic way 🫶 landonorris: exactly 🫡

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc: she cooks?? landonorris: “cooks” is a generous word charles_leclerc: good luck soldier landonorris: i’ve written my will

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon: pls livestream the taste test landonorris: it’s giving fear factor alex_albon: if you survive i want a review in 3 words landonorris: “still in therapy” probably

maxfewtrell replied to your story

maxfewtrell: blink twice if you need extraction landonorris: i’m blinking i’m blinking maxfewtrell: say the word and we’ll fly in a chef landonorris: honestly might be safer

danielricciardo replied to your story

danielricciardo: she’s got the apron on = immediate trust issues landonorris: she said “guess the spice” with a smile danielricciardo: NOPE. red flag behavior landonorris: help

oscarpiastri replied to your story

oscarpiastri: she looks peaceful but i sense violence in the seasoning landonorris: it's silent chaos. she’s humming taylor swift oscarpiastri: ur so done bro 💀 landonorris: tell my story

carmenmmundt replied to your story

carmenmmundt: she’s adorable leave her alone landonorris: tell that to my stomach in 30 mins carmenmmundt: you’ll eat every bite and say thank you landonorris: ok fine

carlossainz55 replied to your story

carlossainz55: it’s over for you landonorris: respectfully yes carlossainz55: you’re gonna propose anyway so what’s a little food poisoning landonorris: 💍+ 💀 = me rn

elysiadayman replied to your story

elysiadayman: she told me she used oat milk but it was heavy cream landonorris: I KNEW IT elysiadayman: godspeed soldier landonorris: tell benny i love him

alexwolffofficial replied to your story

alexwolffofficial: is this revenge for something?? landonorris: i think i left the toilet seat up alexwolffofficial: yeah. enjoy the consequences landonorris: 💀

ameliedayman replied to your story

ameliedayman: WTF 😭 it’s literally pasta landonorris: yeah and it just winked at me ameliedayman: I HOPE IT CHOKES YOU landonorris: on love?? ameliedayman: on pepper flakes you dick landonorris: worth it

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

The late afternoon light spilled lazily through the living room windows, casting soft golden streaks across the floorboards. Outside, the garden hummed with the sound of bees and distant birdsong, but inside the Norris house, the only sound was the low, steady hum of a half-forgotten movie playing on the TV — something vintage and British, picked mostly at random from Lando’s “classics I’ve never actually watched” list.

Amelie was curled up on one end of the couch, bare feet tucked under her, hair loose from the soft braid she’d worn earlier. She wore one of Lando’s old hoodies over her tank top, sleeves far too long on her arms, a sight that Lando had declared "a criminally unfair weapon against his self-control" more than once.

And now, sprawled beside her, he was proving exactly why that was true.

—Lan,— she warned as his fingers slipped under the hem of the hoodie for the third time, grazing the warm skin of her waist.

—What? I’m just trying to cuddle,— he murmured, lips already grazing her neck.

—You’re trying to win an Oscar for “most dramatic fake cuddler,”— Amelie said, stifling a laugh. She pushed his face gently away, only for him to immediately nuzzle back in like a determined golden retriever.

—You know what I didn’t get on sunday?— he mumbled into her collarbone.

—A haircut? A personality? An ounce of chill?—

Lando nipped lightly at her skin. —My post-win prize. You know, the prize.—

—Oh my god,— Amelie groaned, flopping her head back against the cushion. —Lando, your mum made us lunch four hours ago. We’re in her living room.—

—And you think I wasn’t thinking about you the whole damn time? I sat across from you while you licked olive oil off your finger and talked to my mother about wedding playlists, and you expect me to be normal?— He kissed the edge of her jaw. —I deserve a medal. Or you. Preferably both.—

Amelie laughed, trying not to melt as his hand wandered again, a little bolder this time.

—Lan, we’re literally going to Max and Pietra’s in, like, an hour.—

—Exactly. That’s a whole hour.— He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. —Besides, you got your trophy. Number one in the US and UK? That deserves a celebration too. You won. I won. Let’s combine prizes. Efficient. Sexy. Teamwork.—

She turned to him, smirking despite herself. —You are not calling this “teamwork.”—

—Fine. Collaboration. Synergy.— His voice dropped low. —You and me. Merging… efforts.—

—Oh my god.— She slapped a hand over his mouth. —If you say “horizontal integration,” I’m calling your mum.—

Lando licked her palm.

—Lando!— she shrieked, yanking her hand back and wiping it on his hoodie. —You’re disgusting.—

—You love me.— He grinned, fully on top of her now, bracing his weight on his elbows. —Come on, Ames. Just a little. No one’s gonna walk in.—

As if summoned by fate itself, the distant sound of someone — probably Flo — yelling something down the stairs echoed through the house.

Amelie raised an eyebrow. —What were you saying?—

Lando groaned and let his head fall dramatically into her chest. —I’m cursed. This house is cursed. My libido is being held hostage by my sister.—

—Your libido needs to behave until we get back to our actual house,— Amelie said, ruffling his curls affectionately. —Besides, I want to look good for dinner. Can’t have you messing up my hair and makeup just because you’re feeling greedy.—

He lifted his head and looked up at her with a hopeful pout. —But what if I mess them up gently?—

She laughed and pushed him off, rolling off the couch in one graceful move. —You’ll survive. Now come on, I need to change, and you need to put on something other than joggers if you’re going to show your face at Max and Pietra’s.—

Lando flopped back dramatically onto the couch, hands over his face. —Fine. But I’m making out with you in their elevator. You can’t stop me.—

—You know they have a camera in there.—

—Then it’s art.—

—You’re impossible.—

He peeked at her through his fingers as she walked toward the stairs, giving him one final look — part fond, part exasperated, all his.

—You love me though,— he called after her.

—Yeah, yeah,— she called back over her shoulder, —I’ll love you more when you’re wearing pants with a zipper.—

Lando sighed happily into the couch cushions, the echo of her laughter trailing behind her.

Yeah.

He could wait. Maybe. Just until dessert.

Lando dragged himself off the couch with the melodramatic energy of a man deeply wronged by fate and fabric and house rules. He shuffled toward the stairs, muttering to himself about oppression, blue balls, and the cruelty of British architecture that made old wooden floors so damn loud.

Upstairs, he found Amelie already halfway through her outfit change in front of the mirror, lipstick in hand and hair pinned back in that lazy, effortless way that made him feel like some Renaissance painter had designed her just to torment him. She caught his reflection over her shoulder as he entered the room and smirked.

—You’re still pouting,— she said, voice amused as she swiped on a deep berry shade.

—You’re still hot and morally opposed to making out in shared spaces. So yeah, I’m pouting.—

—You’ll survive. Max and Pietra’s apartment has two bathrooms. If you’re really good, maybe I’ll follow you into one.—

He perked up instantly. —That sounds like an incentive system I can get behind.—

Amelie laughed, capping her lipstick and turning to face him. She was in a sleek, cherry red halter top and high-waisted black trousers, gold hoops glinting beneath her hair, and those heeled boots that made her walk like she knew every heart in the room belonged to her.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t inaccurate.

Lando’s eyes swept over her in blatant appreciation. —You’re gonna make it really hard for me to behave at this dinner.—

—That’s the idea,— she said sweetly, grabbing her small bag and brushing past him with a wink.

By the time they made it back downstairs, Cisca was in the living room reading, and Adam was in the kitchen tidying up the last of the lunch dishes.

Cisca looked up with a warm smile. —Off to Max and Pietra’s?—

Amelie nodded. —Yep. I promised Pietra I’d bring dessert. We’re picking it up on the way.—

Adam poked his head around the corner. —Do not let Lando near a cake box. I still remember what happened at your birthday last year.—

—It was one slice and a very soft table!— Lando protested as Amelie laughed.

They said their goodbyes, hugs exchanged, promises of a weekend breakfast tossed around, and then they were finally out the door and sliding into Lando’s McLaren parked in the driveway.

As he pulled onto the quiet street, Lando reached over and slid his hand across the center console, palm open.

Amelie laced her fingers through his without hesitation.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just the gentle sound of the tires on the road, the distant hum of the radio, and the warmth of shared silence.

Then Lando said, —You looked good today. In the kitchen. With Mum.—

Amelie turned her head toward him, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. —I was wearing your just jeans.—

—Yeah, and you still looked like you belonged more than anyone ever has. Like you were supposed to be there.—

She didn’t say anything right away. Just squeezed his hand a little tighter.

—That’s how I felt too,— she said quietly.

Lando smiled, gaze still on the road, but heart very much on the girl beside him.

—And hey,— he added after a beat, —if this whole singing icon thing doesn’t work out, Mum said you could take over as the family’s head chef.—

—Bold of you to assume I’d take a pay cut like that,— Amelie grinned.

—Yeah, but you’d be paid in eternal devotion and foot massages.—

—And the occasional sneaky bathroom kiss?—

Lando glanced at her, eyes glinting. —Babe, that was never in question.—

And with that, they drove into the London dusk, two kids stupidly in love, dressed for dinner, and plotting entirely inappropriate things in someone else’s apartment guest bathroom.

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

liked by lanmeliecore, lanfanclub69, and others

lanmelieupdates: Lando and Amelie were spotted walking hand-in-hand through Notting Hill tonight

View all 67,925 comments

padockbitch: not lando looking like her bodyguard bf and her sugarbaby at the same time → wagsunhinged: @padockbitch he’s holding her purse like his life depends on it 😭 → lanfanclub69: @wagsunhinged it probably does tbh

oscarssideeye: you’re telling me she walked runways in paris and now she’s walking beside her man like it’s nothing?? → sainzslut: @oscarssideeye she’s the main event and the afterparty at once

bbgamelia: why does this feel like the final scene in a romcom 😭

f1h8r69: she’s literally everywhere how is this not PR 😒 → lanloves: @f1h8r69 ur mom’s a PR stunt and nobody’s complaining → ameliasbrowgel: @f1h8r69 babes just say you're lonely and go

lanmeliecore: they’re not walking they’re floating. on love.

chaoticwags: lando winning races AND boyfriend of the year is sooooooo sexy of him → norilovemail: @chaoticwags she’s healing him like she’s his multivitamin

papayaheart: don’t talk to me i’m busy manifesting a walk like this w my situationship → softlyoscar: @papayaheart good luck babe he still thinks i’m his “bro”

norrisnation: if i was walking behind them i’d fake trip just to make them turn around

thepaddocktea: lando used to look stressed now he looks like a boyfriend with a spotify playlist → gridgossip: @thepaddocktea he def made her a playlist named “manchild healing hours”

lanxmel: just two it-girls in love → teamdayman: @lanxmel the real london bridge falling down is ME every time i see them 😭

mclarenmuse: if love is a crime then arrest THEM

padduckluv: not lando doing his little side-glance like “yeah she’s mine” 😭😭 → wifeydayman: @padduckluv he walks like the sidewalk was built for her

lanfan69: he’s definitely the type to take her bag and act like it’s no big deal 🧍‍♀️ → siriwantrug: @lanfan69 my ex wouldn’t even hold my phone when my hands were full

sweetteaf1: that’s not a couple that’s a lifestyle

norrisupdates: walking around london like they didn’t just break the charts AND win a GP → gridgirlenergy: @norrisupdates productivity couple of the year

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

The dinner was warm and chaotic in the best way.

Max and Pietra’s flat smelled like garlic bread and candles, and their playlist bounced between R&B classics and early 2010s pop bangers. The table was cozy but beautifully set, with mismatched wine glasses and a vase of tulips that Pietra claimed “were for ambiance, not symbolism,” which no one believed for a second.

Lando and Max had been laughing non-stop for the past twenty minutes over some inside joke involving a childhood camping trip, while Pietra leaned into Amelie’s shoulder, whispering commentary about how “your boyfriend literally giggles like a squirrel.”

And Amelie?

She felt full. Full of pasta, full of wine, full of love. Her face ached from smiling. Lando’s hand rested casually on her thigh under the table like it belonged there, like it had always belonged there, like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

She leaned over to grab the empty dessert bag from the sideboard when Pietra rose too.

—Want me to grab plates?— Pietra asked, already heading to the kitchen.

Amelie smiled. —Sure, I’ll go freshen up real quick. Bathroom’s still down the hall?—

Max nodded. —Left at the end. Don’t get lost. It’s a studio apartment, not Narnia.—

She shot him a sarcastic thumbs-up as she padded down the hall, heels soft against the wooden floor. Inside the bathroom, she shut the door behind her and sighed, bracing her hands on the sink.

She smoothed down her hair, dabbed under her eyes with a tissue, and reapplied her lip gloss with a practiced swipe. Her heart was still humming — too much wine and Lando’s thumb tracing soft, maddening circles against her leg under the table.

She was just about to open the door again when...

Knock knock.

Amelie blinked. —Occupied! Be right out!—

But the knocking came again.

—One second!— she called, reaching for the handle.

And when she opened the door...

Lando.

Grinning like he’d just won another Grand Prix. And stepping inside like he’d been waiting for the cue. The door clicked shut behind him before she could get a word out.

—Lan, what are you doing?— she hissed. —We’re at Max’s! And I’m pretty sure this is the only bathroom. You can’t just...—

—Babe,— he murmured, crowding into her space, —I’ve been on my best behavior for hours. HOURS. Do you understand the kind of restraint it took to sit through Max telling stories about my braces phase while your thigh was warm under my hand and you were wearing that damn top?—

His hands found her waist, fingers firm and sure.

She narrowed her eyes. —We’re literally between pasta and tiramisu.—

—Exactly. Perfect time for a palate cleanser,— Lando whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Amelie let out a soft gasp before her hands instinctively pushed at his chest. —Lan, no... someone might actually need to pee.—

—Let them hold it. I’ve been holding this all day.—

And then he kissed her jaw, then her collarbone, slow and unhurried like they weren’t stealing minutes in someone else’s flat. His lips moved like he knew exactly how to unravel her. And before she could argue again, he’d picked her up with an obnoxiously smug grin.

—Lando!— she squeaked as he sat her gently on the edge of the sink.

—Shhh, you’re ruining the fantasy,— he murmured, slipping between her legs.

—We are literally... ohhh... at dinner with your childhood best friend.—

—And that’s exactly why this is funny,— he replied with a kiss to her shoulder. —It’s poetic. Naughty. Classy. I call it “Post-Win Degeneracy.”—

She tried to fight the giggle bubbling in her throat. Failed miserably.

—You’re ridiculous.—

—You’re irresistible.—

He let his gaze linger on her, the low hum of the bathroom fan and the distant murmur of voices from the living room a muffled backdrop to the sudden intensity between them. His hands, still resting on her thighs, began a slow, deliberate journey upwards, pushing aside the fabric of her black trousers.

—Lando,— Amelie breathed, her voice a little shaky now, a stark contrast to her earlier playful resistance. Her eyes, wide and dark, met his, and he saw the surrender there, the same burning desire that mirrored his own.

His thumbs brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and Amelie gasped softly, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling his head down. He took the hint, capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss that banished any remaining thoughts of tiramisu or polite conversation. The kiss was a wildfire, consuming them both, fueled by hours of suppressed longing and the thrill of their stolen moment.

When he finally pulled back, just inches from her face, their breaths mingled, ragged and uneven. His eyes were dark, almost black, with an unshakeable focus on her.

—I need you out of these, Ames,— he murmured, his voice husky as he tugged gently at the waistband of her trousers.

Amelie nodded, her head a little light. She didn't need to speak. Her body was already arching into his touch, an eager participant in their silent agreement. With a deft movement, Lando slid the trousers down her hips, gathering them around her ankles. She kicked them off with a soft thud against the tile floor.

He moved his hands to her cherry red halter top, his fingers finding the delicate clasp at the back. As it unhooked, the fabric loosened, revealing the soft curve of her stomach, then the tantalizing lace of her bra. He peeled the top away slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving hers, savoring the reveal. The cool air of the bathroom met her skin, but Lando's touch was all warmth.

Amelie, for her part, was far from passive. As Lando worked on her clothes, her hands roamed, finding the loose bulk of his t-shirt. Her fingers slipped under the hem, tracing the hard line of his abs, then moving higher, tugging at the fabric. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated against her.

—You’re driving me mad, you know that?— he muttered against her lips, his own breath hitched.

Her answer was to pull his shirt up and over his head, revealing the lean, muscular expanse of his chest. Amelie’s hands immediately sought the warmth of his skin, her fingers splaying across his chest, tracing the faint outline of his abs. Then, with a playful boldness, she dragged her fingernails lightly over the denim of his jeans, just above the fly, teasing him, testing his limits.

Lando stiffened, a sharp intake of breath. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, a silent battle raging within him. When he opened them, they were blazing.

—Amelie...— he warned, but there was no real warning in his tone, only raw desire.

She just smiled, a wicked, knowing smirk. Her head dipped, and she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the pulsing vein in his neck, her tongue flicking lightly against his skin. Her fingers continued their maddening dance over his jeans, a silent promise of what was to come, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. The air in the small bathroom crackled with unspoken desires, the only sounds their ragged breathing and the faint, rhythmic creak of the sink beneath them.

Without another word, Lando moved with a swift efficiency that belied his earlier playfulness. His hands went to the button of his jeans, then the zipper, the soft rasp of the fabric loud in the small, suddenly silent bathroom. The denim slid down his legs, followed quickly by his boxers, pooling around his ankles. He kicked them off, his gaze never leaving hers, a silent challenge in his eyes.

He then reached between them, a familiar anticipation building between them. Amelie gasped, arching into his touch, her legs instinctively tightening around his waist as he entered her in one fluid motion.

A choked sound escaped her lips, a mixture of pleasure and the desperate need for silence. She buried her face in his neck, her teeth gently nipping at his skin to muffle any sound, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

—Quiet, love, quiet,— Lando murmured against her temple, his voice a low, steady rumble that vibrated through her. He began to move, slow at first, then picking up a rhythm that was both urgent and controlled, perfectly attuned to her body.

The cool porcelain of the sink pressed against her bare thighs, a stark contrast to the heat building between them. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, designed to push her closer to the edge while maintaining a precarious silence. Amelie’s breath hitched with every movement, her body clenching around him. She bit down on her lip, a soft moan escaping despite her best efforts.

Lando’s hands tightened on her hips, guiding her, supporting her, his eyes fluttering closed as the intensity mounted. The sounds from the living room faded into a distant hum, replaced by the frantic beating of their own hearts and the increasingly shallow sound of their breathing.

—You’re incredible, Ames,— Lando whispered against her ear, his voice rough with exertion, just as she felt the familiar clenching deep inside. It was the only praise she needed, the perfect fuel to her fire.

The culmination hit them almost simultaneously, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure that stole their breath and left them trembling. Amelie cried out, a muffled gasp against Lando’s neck, as her body arched violently. Lando groaned, a deep, satisfied sound as he collapsed against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

For a moment, they simply held each other, the small bathroom filled with the aftermath of their stolen passion. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, the only sound the frantic thrumming of their pulses.

Lando was the first to stir, pushing himself up slightly, though still heavily leaning against her. He looked down at her, a breathless, satisfied smile spreading across his face.

—Still think that was a bad idea?— he teased, his voice a little hoarse.

Amelie just shook her head, unable to form words, a blissful smile mirroring his own. She pulled his head back down for a soft, lingering kiss.

—We should probably… you know… before Max sends a search party,— she finally managed, her voice still a little shaky.

Lando sighed dramatically. —Fine. But only because I love you and I want tiramisu.— He pulled away, though reluctantly, helping her slide off the sink. He quickly pulled up his boxers and jeans, while Amelie, still a little unsteady, reached for her top and trousers.

As she fumbled with the clasp of her halter, Lando stepped behind her, his warm hands brushing hers away. —Let me get that.— His fingers were surprisingly gentle, expertly fastening the clasp before he dropped a soft kiss on her shoulder.

She pulled on her trousers, feeling a fresh wave of heat as she remembered exactly how they’d come off. They both quickly tidied themselves, running fingers through their hair, taking quick glances in the mirror to ensure they looked… normal.

—Ready?— Lando asked, his hand finding hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Amelie nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to compose herself. —As I’ll ever be.— She looked at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. —Just try not to giggle like a squirrel when we go back out there.—

Lando smirked. —No promises. But it’ll be a happy squirrel, you can bet on that.—

They stepped out of the bathroom like two actors trying to convince an audience that they hadn’t just absolutely desecrated the guest sink.

Amelie’s lipstick had been reapplied, her halter top looked almost exactly as it had when she entered, and Lando’s hair — while slightly more disheveled than it had been at dinner — still passed the “I didn’t just get laid five feet from your dessert forks” test.

They had barely taken a step down the narrow hallway when they froze.

Max.

Standing right there, arms crossed over his chest, brow lifted, a dessert plate in each hand.

He blinked once. Then twice. Then tilted his head to the side, lips pursed in something halfway between horror and disappointment.

—You two are so sick,— he said, voice flat. —In my house. In my one and only bathroom. During dessert. Which I hosted. Out of the kindness of my heart.—

Amelie’s entire face flushed crimson. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, then opted for a small, awkward cough.

—I just… needed to reapply my lip gloss.—

Max shot her a look. Then turned to Lando.

—You’ve changed. You used to have shame. And better timing.—

Lando gave him a sheepish grin and reached to rub the back of his neck. —In my defense… it was mutual.—

—No one here is defending you,— Max replied, handing Lando one of the plates with a bit more force than necessary. —You owe this household, like, three apology desserts. Each.—

Amelie tried to shrink behind Lando. It didn’t help. Max just pointed at her with his fork like a disappointed parent.

—And you! Sweet, innocent popstar girl. I had faith in you. Faith! And you’re the ringleader.—

—Okay, to be fair,— Amelie began, then paused, reconsidering every single choice she’d made in the last fifteen minutes. —Actually no. I’m sorry. I have no excuse.—

Max looked between them both, then let out a long, dramatic sigh and turned toward the kitchen.

—You’re banned from my bathroom forever. If you need to pee, go next door to the neighbors and explain yourselves. I’m done.—

—Come on, mate,— Lando called after him. —It’s not like we broke the sink.—

Max whirled back around. —DID you break the sink?—

Amelie held up her hands instantly. —No! God, no. The sink is fine. I think. Probably. We were very gentle.—

Max clutched his chest. —Don’t say “gentle.” In my hallway. Where I walk with clean thoughts.—

Just then, Pietra peeked out from the kitchen.

—Is this about the sex sink thing? Max told me. Honestly, I’m impressed you managed to keep it that quiet.—

Amelie groaned into her hands. —Oh my god.—

—Honestly?— Pietra added, completely unfazed. —I just hope you washed your hands before touching the dessert spoons.—

Lando turned to Amelie with a tiny smirk. —I love our friends.—

—You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,— she muttered, though her smile betrayed her.

Max’s voice drifted in from the kitchen one last time.

—You bring that sink into my house again, Norris, and I’m making you clean it. With a toothbrush. And a priest.—

And with that, the night continued — one dessert, two scandalized hosts, and four friends laughing until they cried over tiramisu that was, quite literally, tainted by love.

[lara635kookie]

My Personal Kpop Demon Hunters Song Ranking:

That was so hard because all the songs are SO GOOD, but I'll try, maybe my opinion will change with time.

7. TAKEDOWN:

Okay, don't throw stones as me. I love this song. But the other songs are just too SUPERB, that this one becomes... Less superb. Like Rumi, I think the song is... A little exaggerated at times. Something I like about this movie is that every part of the soundtrack is essential. It tells a story. At first, I thought this was going to be just a badass TWICE song, which I wouldn't have minded, but I'm glad they made it a part of the story, showing Rumi, ironically the one to ask for a diss track on the Saja Boys, can't sing it because it's too hateful on her demon side. It's a really great song overall, the other ones just stand out more.

6. How It's Done:

You realize how good the HUNTR/X's songs are when this MASTERPIECE is ranked so low. I love How It's Done, it's a song to introduce us to the girls and what they do, highlight their unique personality traits and show us how successful they are, both as k-pop stars and demon hunters. And it reaches its goal perfectly. You hear it and you already know a little about the girls and it makes you want to know more. It's a song that 100% excels at their purpose. However, the other songs on that list also excel on their purpose way too much (and also fit my personal tastes even better lol), sadly leaving How It's Done on this position.

5. Golden:

It almost feels like a crime putting Golden so low. But I just can't put it any higher because what's coming is EVEN BETTER. The song is a bop, and it just represents each of the girls so well. Their story, their struggles. As they said, it's a song about who they are, where they are, and where they are going next. The outfits are everything, the MV, the lines, and it all is just executed so perfectly. I have nothing but compliments to Golden, I tried to make it higher because I refused to accept it would end up so low, but there wasn't any other way. That's Golden's place on that list, for now, at least.

4. Soda Pop:

Don't judge me!!! Come on, it is CATCHY. The boys kill it!!! And just like How It's Done does with the girls, Soda Pop introduces us to the boys so well. I love it how, at first, it sounds like just a little innocent song about having a crush, but the deeper meaning behind it is demons saying they want to drink the fan's souls in a very sweet and sugarcoating way. It's something you have to listen a few times to catch on. It just truly fascinates me how a song called Soda freaking Pop, can have such a dark message in between the lines, like come on, look at those lines: "Don't want you, need you, Yeah, I need you to fill me up", "Every sip makes me want more, yeah", "Lookin like snacks 'cause you got it like that", "Take a big bite, want another bite", "'Cause I need you to need me", "I'm empty, you feed me so refreshing", "Come and fill me up, Just can't get enough", "You're my Soda Pop, gotta drink every drop". AND THAT CHORUS???

"You're all I can think of

Every drop I drink up

You're my soda pop

My little soda pop

Cool me down, you're so hot

Pour me up, I won't stop

You're my soda pop

My little soda pop"

Like, there's so much in this song that you need to hear it more than once (which is not a problem, you will because it's addictive). How do you even make a seemingly silly song about soda to be this filled with hidden meanings??? Whoever wrote Soda Pop, you're a genius, you're an icon, you're a legend, you're the moment, and I fear you own my life, I wish I had your brain. I just love this genre of Kpop where Idols use food/drinks to make an innuendo. Ice Cream by BLACKPINK feat. Selena Gomez, Cookie by New Jeans. Whatever that's called, I hope it becomes a trend. Give me more of this, K-pop idols. I need it. I need you to serve me colorful aesthetic with cute lyrics with a double meaning behind it(but please make sure you're all legal adults first okay?). Because somehow, a song about soda popping can have this much ways of interpretation. A cutesy one, a sexier one, and a darker one. It's just so mind-blowing what they did with this song. The fans will probably notice it's about sex with a cute aesthetic, like the songs I mentioned before, because it can also be interpreted like that to hide the actual meaning only the HUNTR/X catches on:They're demons trying to steal their fans souls. The intelligence level is just off the charts with this one. Whoever came up with this was allowed to COOK and cooked even harder that I thought it was possible. Before making this list, I was sure Soda Pop would make it to the podium, and it almost did, but the other ones are just too superior.

🥉 What It Sounds Like:

The perfect finale. This was so emotional in so many ways. Just talking about it makes me want to cry. It's so beautiful and so heart-wrenching at the same time. I don't think I have enough words to describe it. All the songs in the podium were almost in first place, because they are just THAT good, I love myself a grand ending with with a lot of magic, and color, and glitter, and the power of friendship (the girl obsessed with Equestria Girls Rainbow Rocks within me will never die). The lyrics are so poetic, and they are just everything to me. It also kinda reminded me a little bit of some of The Greatest Show, This is Me and Come Alive from "The Greatest Showman", it was just THAT EPIC. The girls acknowledging they made mistakes, and they can't come back, but they can still make it through together and defeating Gwi-ma was just so POWERFUL. Cliche? Yes, very. But I wouldn't have it any other way. It's a trope that WORKS.

🥈Your Idol:

I'm sorry, but always that the movie has a villains vs heroes final musical showdown battle, the villains are defeated, but in terms of MUSIC, we all know who the real winners are. Like, I'm sorry, Saja Boys, who gave you permission to SLAY SO HARD??? I think it's obvious that by now, they're all WAY hotter in their demon forms. I'm sorry, but if they presented themselves as demons since the start, no plot would have made me believe the HUNTR/X would be able to defeat them. If they were demons since the beginning of their careers, the HUNTR/X would have been defeated. Way sooner, in fact. And all the boys shined EQUALLY. Like, I feel like the boys were more balanced than the girls in this aspect. Like, Rumi always starts and ends the song. Yes, Mira and Zoey have very memorable parts, but still Rumi always ends up standing out more. Which I think might be a reflection of external bias. Rumi's younger version is played by Maggie's Kang daughter(and she's the only one we know more about as a kid), Rumi was a character that was created a long time ago for a project her husband was part of and even the movie itselfs say "Celine built HUNTR/X around her" (Rumi). And with the Saja Boys, don't get me wrong, Jinu is the one that sings more and is on the center more, but he leaves more space to the other members than Rumi does. I'm gonna make it clear I don't think that's Rumi's fault and I don't hate her character for it, but the way Kpop Stans are, I just know in real life Rumi would get lots of hate for "stealing all the lines" like many other idols received before. And I don't think the Saja Boys would have that problem because specially here in Your Idol, Abby is the one that starts the song, than Mystery and Romance and just then Jinu. Rumi always comes earlier into the song. There were times I felt like Mira and Zoey's parts were too short just for her to come in. Which is not exactly a bad thing, it would explain why her losing her voice affects not just her but the others so much, because she's the very foundation of HUNTR/X. Which I get why, she's a nepo baby (a very talented one may I add). Her mom was a Sunlight Sister and her adoptive mom is another one of them. But still, the balance of the Saja Boys attracts me more. Because even though Jinu sings more, all the lines from all the members are equally iconic (well almost, some are a little bit more than others). Let's count:

Abby: "Keeping you in check, keeping you obsessed", "Anytime it hurts, play another verse", "I can be your sanctuary", the part of the first chorus he sings, "Don't let it show, keep it all inside", "The pain and the shame, keep it outta sight".

Mystery: "More than power, more than gold", "Yeah you gave me your heart now I'm here for your soul" (Love it how the camera focus on Zoey smiling when he sings)

Romance: "Know I'm the only one right now", "I'ma love you more when it all burns down", "Your obsession feeds our connection", "give me all your attention" he also sings a part of the second chorus.

Jinu: His whole entire pre-chorus and Chorus to be honest, his vocals at the end are pure and sheer PERFECTION, "I will make you free, when you're all a part of me", "Watch me set your world on fire", "No one is coming to save you" (love the foreshadowing), "You're down on your knees, I'm be your idol".

Baby Saja: His whole entire rap that mind you is the very best part and dare I say the very CORE of this song. He was owning this era for real and that's what I'm trying to say, I think it seems like Rumi owns every era, from what they showcased to us, so I like how the Saja Boys divide the spotlight between all the members better.

And I'm sorry but Your Idol's bridge ALONE is bigger than the HUNTR/X's entire carreer. I said what I said. It's genuinely one of the best bridges I've ever heard in a song, I'm not even kidding.

I understand why they only had two songs and then disappeared, if they had more, no other Kpop artist, group or soloist, in this universe would stand a fricking chance.

I genuinely love how just like Soda Pop, Your Idol has so many meanings. The situation with Rumi, the message to the fans, the control Gwi-ma has over all the demons including the Saja Boys themselves and it even gives a little more of depth to the other members of Saja Boys, just so we can say they are not completely shallow. And they do it in a way that makes you want to learn more about them. Apparently all demons of this species, were humans who sold their souls to Gwi-ma.

So it makes you wonder, what happened to them? Both Abby and Baby mention pain, Abby mentions shame. Mystery talks about power and gold so maybe he wanted those things when he gave his soul to Gwi-ma. Romance talks about obsession, connection, attention, being the only one, so what if he gave his soul to Gwi-ma for love?

I also just love the parallels of a song being named Your Idol, in a movie about Kpop Idols, which they sing in a big show after they just won basically everything in the Idol Awards. Brilliant!

Speaking of the Idol Awards, we needed to see the Saja Boys performing there. I know it was a part of the plan for them not to, but I feel like they did the transition from Human to Demon too quickly. It was good, but it would have been better if they first had Soda Pop, when they're in their human forms with a cute concept, then after that had their dark performance as humans but with their marks showing on their black outfits at the Idol Awards, something kinda like this post I made before the movie came out:

And then they would have their even darker performance at the end at the final show at Namsan Tower.

That being said, I loved the way Your Idol was executed. Nearly flawless in every single possible way. No aspect to criticize. I love How they shift to "Don't you know I'm here to save you?" from "No one is coming to save you". Jinu and Rumi proving they are made for each other because just like Rumi, Jinu's highnotes give me goosebumps, and that latin part at the start roughly translates to:"That day of wrath will dissolve you into ashes, the accursed master into eternal flames." Which is so cool, every detail in Your Idol is so thought out with the utmost care, nothing feels wrong or out of place, it's almost unreal.

One would think that it's my favorite song at first glance, since I yapped about it so much, and I admit, it was close to making it into first place, but the last song just had the final word.

🥇Free:

There is not a single individual in the world that loves this song more than I do. Do you think you love Free more than me??? You fucking don't!!!

The heavenly ethereal vocals that make you float to paradise and ascend high to the sky??? The aesthetics??? The lyrics??? The melody??? Free couldn't be more perfect even if it tried. Because it's already PEAK. There's nothing higher to reach than this. The standard is already set. Free sets an unreachable bar for every other song in this movie. Gotta admit that What It Sounds Like and especially Your Idol got pretty close, to the point I almost reconsidered my choice, but Free still rises above and wins at the end. Because no other song in this soundtrack can compare to the IMPACT of this one. The truth's gotta be said.

Why do I like Free so much, you ask? I could give you a whole PowerPoint presentation on that, but let's keep it simple, shall we?

I'm a sucker for romance. I don't know if you all have watched Julie and The Phantoms (also on Netflix, one of the many very good series they canceled) but Free just reminded me so much of "Perfect Harmony". Tell me those lines don't scream Rujinu (you can't because it's impossible):

"Life can be so mean, But when he goes, I know he doesn't leave"

"The truth is finally breaking through, Two worlds collide when I'm with you, Our voices rise and soar so high, We come to life when we're in perfect harmony"

"You set me free, You and me together is more than chemistry, Love me as I am, I'll hold your music here inside my hands"

"We say we're friends, we play pretend, You're more to me, we're everything"

"I never knew a love so real (so real), We're heaven on earth, Melody and words, When we're together we're in perfect harmony"

And Julie and Luke (the ones who sing this song) they're not even forbidden love like Rumi and Jinu, they're impossible love, because Julie is still alive and Luke is a ghost. I can see some similarities between the two pairings and I love them so much, so Free hit me right in the feels, giving me everything I like.

Every line just hits different and even better than the last one. It felt to me like the song that was sang with the most emotions, and the most intense ones too. EJAE and Andrew Choi made a PHENOMENAL SPECTACULAR SHOW-STOPPING GAME-CHANGER JOB.

But if it was just a romantic song, it wouldn't have made it to first place. But there's more to Free than what meets the eye on the surface.

There's more to Free than just romance.

It deepens and gives us a better understanding of Rumi and Jinu as individual characters as well, with Rumi having lines such as:

"I tried to hide but something broke

I tried to sing, couldn't hit the notes

The words kept catching in my throat

I tried to smile, I was suffocating though"

"All the secrets that keep me in chains and

All the damage that might make me dangerous"

And Jinu having lines like:

"Time goes by, and I lose perspective

Yeah, hope only hurts, so I just forget it"

"Between imposter and this monster

I been lost inside my head

Ain't no choice when all these voices

Keep me pointing towards no end"

And also Free talks about a lot of the themes of the movie, especially something that pretty much all the characters want:Freedom. From what's holding them back: The past. Like Mira and Zoey with their families. Jinu also wants to break free from Gwi-ma.

It also talks about stop hiding and fight what they're running from. Because they can't fix it if they never face it.

It also talks about Rumi wanting to change and believing she can change, but she won't change if Jinu is not by her side. And in the end she changes and that motivates Jinu to change for the better too. They both change for good.

And change is the key word in this movie:They wanted the Honmoon to change to gold, but instead it changes to a new one they still have to make gold.

Rumi learns how to accept herself, and Jinu redeems himself. Their bond goes deeper than just romantic love. It involves mutual understanding, acceptance without judgment, etc.

For most of the movie Celine (person who knew all her life about Rumi's marks) and Jinu (first outsider to find out about them) were the only ones that knew about Rumi's patterns. Celine feared it, thought it was a mistake that should be erased with the Honmoon turning gold. But Jinu sees it, and he likes what he sees. He falls in love with it. They were the first people who saw each other for who they truly were and fell in love with the good and bad parts.

They save each other. In all the ways a person can be saved. Jinu, a musician in his former human life (Ahn Hyo-seop crushed Jinu's Lament with his voice, Gwi-ma deserved the hit) helped Rumi to be able to sing without struggling again and Rumi helped Jinu see that is still hope for him, it wasn't too late and he gave his soul to her in order for her to win Gwi-ma's fire and then the final battle with the girls (he's coming back people, he's gonna leave that sword, I know it).

Oh I remember a lot of people before the movie came out and we had the confirmation there was a romance, going like:"I don't want romance, just badass ladies kicking butts (because apparently you can't kick butts and be with a man, you can only have one not both) and that a romance sub-plot would ruin the story, that Jinu was too plain, basic and generic-looking for Rumi (when he's the literal walking LIVING male beauty standards in Korea and guess what? Is a movie about South Korea!!! Shocking, isn't it? Guess the title "Kpop Demon Hunters" didn't make that clear enough) and that people wouldn't fall for straight propaganda on pride month (which is ironic because I think almost everyone in this movie is bisexual, including Rumi and Jinu)." And where are those people now??? Exactly. Gone. That's the power of Free. And a well written and well developed couple, of course. Rujinu is like Ferrari in F1. Everyone is a Ferrari/Rujinu fan. Even if they say they are not, they are Ferrari/Rujinu fans. Even if they root for another team/ship, they also root for Ferrari/Rujinu. It's inevitable.

Rumi, Jinu, Mira, Zoey. They all face what they have to face and their past starts to feel weightless, like Free says. Rumi is free from having to hide her true self. Jinu is also a free soul (who will come back to the sequel, don't tell me otherwise), all the remaining demons I suppose are still in the underworld are free from Gwi-ma, etc. And that is why Free is supreme.

[yuyusgirlie]

meow

wonwoo x reader

wc: 1.2k

content: fluff, he really likes the cat, tw: league of legends, there will be a part two?, a lot of world building for the cat

Wonwoo’s day started like any other day. He woke up in the morning to his alarm, stared at the ceiling for a solid 10 minutes dreading the idea of getting up to go on a run, and then proceeded to get out of bed to get ready for said dreaded run. He wasn’t necessarily a morning person so his morning routine was just that - a routine. A cycle he went through mindlessly every day so that he could at least get his day started. 

There wasn’t much special to this particular day; the air was a little crispy as the fall was coming in so he settled for a pair of black sweatpants and a thin grey sweater to get him through him morning run. Walking through the apartment he waved to his roommate who just got back from the gym, grabbed his headphones, keys, and phone from the counter, and walked out the door. 

Part of his daily morning routine was to walk over to the forested area of the park for his stretches before he ran 5 laps around the park. Normally this would take him about an hour. 

Bopping his head to the music in his headphones he was about to start running when he felt something brush up against him. He quickly ripped off his headphones and jumped out of the way. The park was not unfamiliar to some wildlife, so fearing that he was about to become a squirrel’s next victim he jumped on a nearby picnic bench and looked back. 

What he found was a curious small black cat looking back at him, confused as to why its new friend ran away. Wonwoo sat there for a second. Well for longer than a second. He sat there for a bit. He stared at the cat. The cat stared back. This was suddenly: the best day ever. 

“Aren’t you a little guy, come here pspspspsps” Wonwoo said putting on his best cat-attracting voice. He slowly got down from the picnic table and bent down to try to look safe enough to attract the cat over. With his hand slightly out for the cat to sniff, the cat cautiously approached with his nose to the tip of Wonwoo’s finger. After a preliminary sniff, the cat moved closer to Wonwoo for a full and loving pet. 

Overjoyed, Wonwoo didn’t move from his current position and gave the adorable black cat all the pets and scratches he requested. The cat walked back and forth, rubbing against Wonwoo’s leg and purring.

After a good 5 minutes of getting many pats, the cat decided it was time to move on and with a final rub against Wonwoo’s leg, walked further into the park. 

Watching the cat leave, feeling slightly betrayed, Wonwoo decided that his daily routine was going to look a little different today. He turned his music off, put his headphones around his neck, and started following the cat.

Along this journey he was worried that the cat was going to accidentally hurt itself or cause trouble on the roads, but this cat was surprisingly aware of everything. He paused and looked both ways before crossing the street and was sure to take clear paths. Everytime the cat stopped, Wonwoo tried to reach down and pet the cat again, but the cat had other ideas and started to walk away again. 

After a good 20 minute walk the cat turned into a little neighbourhood and began doing a little cat run towards a specific house. Rather than running up to the front door, the cat decided to rest on the steps leading up to the house. Taking this as a sign to pet the cat, Wonwoo sat next to it and finally got a second chance to pet the furry little guy. 

Both Wonwoo and the cat enjoyed this little serene moment until it was broken by a loud voice, “George, oh my goodness, there you are!” 

Hearing a voice coming from the door that the stairs lead to, both Wonwoo and the cat jumped up and watched where the voice came from. 

The cat walked towards the voice, snuggling up to the person, where as Wonwoo kind of just froze. 

You were opening the door to leave for the store to pick up some groceries but in your way you found the cat that forgot to return home last night, and… a man? 

You and Wonwoo kind of looked at each other for a solid minute until Wonwoo finally decided to say something, “His name is George?”

“...yea.” 

“That’s fun. I found him in the park, he’s very nice.” 

“Thank you.”

The exchange was painfully awkward, but what was not being said spoke louder for both of you. You found a cute boy sitting outside of your home and you wanted to ask him a million questions but didn’t know where to start. Where as Wonwoo accidentally stumbled across the house of a cute person and was too shy to possibly talk to them.

“Um also thank you for finding George! I thought he was lost so thank you for bringing him home!” You said with a smile. 

“Honestly he brought me here,” Wonwoo said kinda nervously with a chuckle, “he’s really cute so kind of just followed him.” 

You looked at the man in awe at how he just mindlessly followed a little creature around town. The thought of that happening made you laugh in which Wonwoo eventually joined you in. 

“Well thank you regardless, do you want to come in for a warm drink? I don’t know how long you’ve been out but it’s a little cold out today.” 

Deciding that today couldn’t be more out of the ordinary, Wonwoo threw all caution to the wind and agreed to come in. Following you and the cat into the home, he is met with a cozy little house. 

You walk over to the kitchen and turn on the kettle to warm up some water. “Tea or coffee?” 

“Coffee please.” Wonwoo said watching you move around the house. Not wanting to intrude more than he already has, he decided to sit down on the floor and pet George as he sat on a little door mat. 

You watch the strange man sit next to your cat and pet it and wonder many things about him, but right now it was mostly about his name. “I realize now I forgot to introduce myself,” you let him know your name before asking him for his. 

“Wonwoo,” he says with a smile before looking over to George again. 

“Well Wonwoo, it’s very nice to meet you, I’m sure George would say the same. He’s usually not this friendly with people so this is a nice surprise.” 

“Oh really?” His attention shifts over to you again. “He was really nice and friendly the whole time.” He looks over at the cat who is now purring, enjoying the scratches behind the ear. 

Wonwoo takes a look around the house from his spot on the floor and notices the controllers sitting on the couch. “Do you play?” 

You look over to where he is looking and chuckle, “Yeah my brother and I play, do you play?” 

“Yeah I do! That’s awesome!” Wonwoo finally gets up from his spot against the wishes of George and walks over to your collection of games. 

He starts to look through the titles as you join him in the living room. “I have these and I have a few more on my PC, mostly just League though.” He looks up at you and looks at you in awe. You are unsure what made this happen but you just smile at him. 

“Wanna duo?” 

[hoiststowline]

Driving down the road listening to 80s bops with Jazz, Hound, or Hot rod what songs are we listening to with them

[a/n: anon, you have made this eighties music fan the happiest person alive rn, I thank you for this ask!]

Jazz definitely has a more curated music taste, but his love expands across a lot of different genres. Donna Summer, Van Halen and Quarterflash all come to mind for some artists, though I recently saw a comic panel that he’s a Madonna fan, which I can totally see. Any album like Like a Virgin or The Works that give off some of the anthems of the eighties I can see him enjoying. A favorite song of his The Reflex by Duran Duran, but there’s many that are number one songs for him.

Hound likes just about anything that comes across his radio from that decade, but he favors it a little more if it’s Billy Joel, Survivor, or Bryan Adams. The albums Glass Houses and Reckless are his favorites, but I think his favorite song of all time is High on You by Survivor. His music taste is most definitely heavy on pop/rock, he has an immense appreciation for other genres such as R&B and country, alike Whitney Houston and Kenny Rogers.

Anything rock, Hot Rod is in. Def Leppard, Steve Miller Band, and Journey are all fair game, loving albums such as Frontiers and Hysteria. Songs that you roll all your windows down and spin the volume dial all the way to the right, though I think his favorite song is You Might Think by The Cars. He also probably would devotedly listen to The Traveling Wilburys, just because of all the rock and pop legends in that group, even if some of the sounds are more folk and country, he still loves it.

[k3nz1ekorn]

Jayvik actor au- first meeting

There’s a new show airing based on the popular video game League of Legends! Filming has just started and while it’s the first day on set, it’s also the first meeting of costars Joel and Vlad, set to play Jayce and Viktor. 

DIsclaimer: obviously I do not own the game League of Legends or any of the characters. Because this is an au some of them are going to be very out of character but this entire au is self indulgent for me so idrc. Hope you enjoy tho! also I have no idea how acting or set lots work and I have no intention of looking those specifics up for this, if that bothers you feel free to correct any inaccuracies in a comment!

Vlad was nervous to say the least. It wasn’t as if he was an inexperienced actor, just that this was a pretty big role for him. Big budget, some big names, a huge video game company, and he got to play one of the main male roles? Yeah no he definitely didn’t want to fuck this one up. He took a breath before opening the car door and stepping out onto the pavement, the frigid air surrounding him was a strong contrast to the heated car he’d just been in. He should definitely find his trailer fast, his knee did not like the cold. He slung his bag over his shoulder with ease and grabbed his cane out of the car with his opposite hand before shutting the door and starting down the path to the lot, 24B it was? Everything was busy, he noted, costumes and mechanical equipment moving around him this way and that. His head was almost on a constant swivel to make sure nobody was about to knock him off his feet, ducking and weaving here or there to make sure the stray props and cart wheels didn’t take him out. He was actually quit good at it all things considered.

“Coming through, heavy equipment!” He heard from his right, and it seemed as if he spoke a bit too soon. His efforts seemed to be in vain because as the cart had almost passed him, the wheel went over a rock and the boom mic jostled. Just enough in fact to blindside him with a bop right on the forehead. He stumbled backward for a second before a pair of very large hands were steadying him. He groaned lightly for a second before blinking a few times. A broad chest was in front of him when his eyes regained focus, squinting in confusion he looked to the hand on his arm, before following it up to find- Oh. Oh wow. 

“You alright there?” He was broken out of his very minor trance by the new voice, deep and gravely. He blinked a few more times before letting out a cough, taking a small step away, and responding.

“YES! Yes I’m fine, thank you for the concern though.” He gave a chuckle and a small smile as he finished readjusting his bag. He took a moment to look over this new person, and yes his initial observation was oh so correct. He was so very good looking. Vlad preferred his men a bit more rugged truth be told, usually a beard or longer hair, but all things considered this stranger was striking. He started to move to introduce himself when the man spoke again.

“Good, I’ll be on my way then. ‘Scuse me.” He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and slipped past him. Vlad turned to watch him walk away for a moment before giving a small huff. Not even a name to put to a face, huh. With a shake of his head he carefully continued on.

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After arriving at his destination and getting settled into his trailer it was time to get down to business. Hair and makeup flew by in a breeze with the help of a quick coffee, and costumes had been fitted to perfection previously. He admitted he looked quite good in this one, the lace up sides of the vest did wonders for his already nice figure. With one more look in the mirror he gave himself a nod and picked up his script and cane before descending the custom ramp out of his trailer. Immediately he was met with his assistant, Skylar. She handed him his second coffee of the day and he adjusted so he was holding it in the same hand as his smaller copy of the script. They settled into a comfortable pace as they made their way towards the set. She went over a few key notes on the way there.

“So your first scene today is set in the aftermath of when the character Jayce’s apartment blew up, you’re almost grilling him on why, how, yada yada, asking questions, being snarky, etc. okay? Should be fairly easy for you. Your counterpart for this scene is Joel Torres, he’s already on set. He filmed a few other scenes already today so he’s already all warmed up and ready to jump into it.” She seemed almost anxious? Exasperated? It was hard to tell with her sometimes. “Other staff have said he’s a bit…cold? Just don’t take it personally if he doesn’t take to you immediately, is what I’m getting at, mmkay?” Vlad scoffed a bit at that. He never took it personally when people didn’t like him, if they were coworkers he did like to be cordial at least. It was just better for the production and flow of things that way. 

“That will not be a problem, I am a professional in the art of not speaking,” that definitely earned him a skeptical look, “and I’m caffeinated now, highly I might add, so whatever this Joel does or does not say is eh…water off the head? Is that the saying? It’s some kind of body part, yes?”

“Well yeah, but it’s-”

“Fantastic, onto the important issue, did you discuss what their potential relationship is building to with anyone on the production team? I know of my own interpretation, but this script it…leaves you guessing some, no?” He held up the papers before taking a sip of his overly sweet coffee and raising his eyebrow in question. She pulled her mouth into an almost grimace and sucked in through her teeth.

“So I did ask, and they said it was meant to end up brotherly almost? Like by the end of the season?” she shot him a sideways glance as she mirrored his movement to drink from her own cup. “If you’re able you can always talk to Mr. Torres and discuss how you both would want to portray the relationship.” Vlad gave a hum in response as they continued on their way. A bright head of pink hair came into view as they got closer. It was a shorter girl, probably one of the female leads? She was leaning on a table with a donut in one hand. In front of her stood a taller woman with deep blue hair, immediately he was able to recognize her as Cathrin Kristy. The shorter one caught his gaze and gave a small wave and a smile, with her mouth full of course. Cathrin turned with a raised eyebrow before giving a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgement. Vlad copied the move to both of them before turning his attention back to Skylar to finish their briefing. The set came into view and he stopped at the edge of it to give everything a brief once over. He turned side to side a bit to fully take it in and get used to his new surroundings before stopping dead in his tracks and giving a slight smirk to himself.

Well hello again handsome. Sitting just a few feet away was the same man he bumped into not even two hours ago, clad in the same ‘Academy uniform’ as the costume department had called it. This must be Joel then, the cold demeanor he’d encountered earlier certainly fit the description Skylar had been telling him about. “One moment Sky, I’ll be back.” He heard her make some kind of annoyed confused sound as he walked away, right up to his new coworker. He appeared to be reading over the script, they were about to film a new scene after all so it made sense. He takes a moment to fully look at him as he approaches. Even under the uniform he can make out thick muscles, beautiful tanned skin on his clean shaven face and oh those hands. His hair was slicked back, not perfect though, an artistically styled messy to give the illusion of disarray while keeping the clean cut illusion the character had. As he’s just a few feet away the other man glances up at him, he squints his eyes a bit as if in confusion before recognition settles in and he lifts his head to acknowledge him. Vlad opens his mouth to speak before he stops, he’s not too far in front of the other but at a comfortable distance for a couple of strangers. He doesn’t plan to be strangers for much longer though. “Well hello again, quite a surprise to see you here. It seems our paths have crossed once again. I admit I didn’t mind the first, but this one is definitely preferred. I’m Vladamir, you may call me Vlad though if you’d like.” He reaches out a hand in front of him. His counterpart takes a glance down at his hand with a raised brow before setting down his script. He looks back up at Vlad’s eyes before taking his hand to give it one firm shake. Dear gods he’s strong…and those eyes- his train of thought is cut short as the other finally speaks. 

“Joel. Just Joel.” He retracts his hand and places it in his lap to intertwine his fingers with the other one. There’s silence as they just stare for a moment, and he thinks he may imagine Joel taking the time to give Vlad a once over, he really hopes he isn’t blushing too hard. Vlad brings his hand back to his side and tilts his head with a light smirk, as he opens his mouth to speak again a bell rings. They both turn their heads as they hear the director call them to places. Vlad gives a light hum before he turns back to Joel once more.

“I believe they need us on set then, shall we?” he doesn’t wait for an answer as he turns and walks to his place. He definitely doesn’t imagine it when he hears a deep exhale and the shuffling of papers behind him before any footsteps follow. 

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“What happened here?” Vlad gets into character easily, this is a fun one for him after all. He turned and gave a wave of his hand, his cane clicking on the ground with ease, it helped that it was fitted to actually be the right height for him.

“Science I guess?” ‘Jayce’ says. This character is very different from him, he could tell as much from the script alone. The actress for Grayson says their line easily, moving out of the way for ‘Viktor’ to approach. He furrows his brows as he turns back to ‘Jayce’ and continues with his line.

“Nor was this approved by the Academy. Who authorized your research?” He says pointedly, he takes care to not kick any of the prop debris as he makes his way over to the other, acting as if he hasn’t had the last twenty minutes to look over the set before they started shooting.

“It was an independent study. Who are you anyway?” he shoots back accusingly as he looks up at him.  Vlad has to force down the immediate urge to look back into his eyes, scrutinizing the blackboard for a moment more.

“I’m assistant to the dean of the Academy, who it may serve you to remember is also the head of the council.” With that he finally looks at ‘Jayce’ again, they lock eyes for a brief second and it almost feels like he stopped breathing. Almost. He is a great actor after all. He breaks eye contact to look back at the board and it feels easy to breathe again, “He sent me here to ensure that anything dangerous is removed safely.” More glancing at the room, anything really to avoid looking into those eyes again. “Which, according to my list, includes you.”

“What!?” More eye contact, it’s brief this time thank the gods. “How am I dangerous?”

“Uh, that is for the council to decide.” He holds the focus of those beautiful golden eyes for barely another second before looking at ‘Grayson’ as she drops the handcuffs into view. ‘Jayce’ hangs his head in defeat and then the shrill bell signals the end of the scene and he glances back at Joel, who had quickly gotten up to listen to feedback from the director. They make eye contact again and Joel raises a thick brow at him. Vlad quickly turns away to hide his blush and busies himself with going over his lines for the scene again with Skylar, making little notes for himself for the next take. This is going to be a long show for sure.

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A Bonus for this one:

When Joel gets back to his trailer for lunch he sits at the booth and lets a long sigh overtake him before he throws his head against the back of his seat. His hand covers his eyes before he pinches the bridge of his nose. All he can picture are those beautiful eyes looking back at him in nearly every scene he shot today. Letting his head drop forward again he removes his hand and glances down at the script. Nearly every scene with him huh? He lets out a defeated chuckle, yep. He’s fucked.

Author’s notes: Wow so I whipped this out in about 5 hours with leftover Christmas mimosa supplies. Literally can’t wait to add Mel in. Don’t know when but I will because I love her so much.

[dailykafka]

FRANZ KAFKA IF HE WAS GEN ALPHA. Dear Milena, my little skibidi discord kitten. I have discovered this new technique by the redpilled grimace-Shake drinking, fanum tax paying alpha males from Ohio called „mewing“, which I believe you must try! But before I shall begin my discord love letter, this skibidi letter is sponsored by Ray Shadow Legends UwU. Raid Shadow legends is a free-to-play maximum gigachad aura pizza tower parkour game, where you can maximise your sigma lightskin stare furry slayer Freddy Fazbear rizz! Nonetheless, back to my Discord letter. Wait, don’t leave, my little skibidi toilet kitten! I have not fully introduced to thee to my furry hermaphrodite Bugs Life erotic fanfiction! Please, I beg of you, with the cherry on top of my griddy with my Garten of banban skibidi bop bop Harlem whopper whopper whopper whopper, do not report me as the sussy imposter 😣! I promise I won’t be so sigma as to disappoint you, my skibidi Milena! I shall beg on your knees and maximise my epic L + ratio epic gamer team fortress two skills for your Gyatt! Come to me, I will always looksmaxx for your Fortnite battle pass in Ohio. This is literally 1984…

Thank you for this contribution…

[voidcat]

i. welcome to summoners rift

characters: narumi gen, gn!reader

a/n: the game i had in mind while writing this is league of legends.. boo i know. anyways i tried to keep the LoL terms down so itll be easier to understand. reader is implied to be a part of first division- part time operations leader but more involved in data collecting and medical side of things, (I’ll decide fully later)

. i need to make this pathetic loser suffer in games so bad its not even funny anymore... first of many more fics to come im afraid

The first few times to play it safe and because it’s what you’re used to, you take a generic support class— Seraphine got crowd control, enough damaging spells to trigger a DoT or do some extra last minute damage, provides shield, speed and health.

A well balanced support and pretty, Narumi cannot help but think as the Seraphine on his screen hits ctrl+3 and dances for the third time while waiting for the opposing team to make a move. You seem to know what you’re doing, you placed wards, dance when it seems idle but keeping your attention enough to cut it when you suspected an ambush few times. Plus it’s one of the most recent skins you got for the champ so he knows you know how to play the champion, despite your low score on her-

After all, not everyone has been playing this damn game for 5 to 10 years now, a newbie is no problem as long as they know how to play and show it. You leave the minions to him, heal him at critical moments the enemies thought he was dying so he can attack back and get them one by one— you’re good, and you’re especially good with him.

By the time the entire team gathers on the same lane, pushing to the opposing team’s base, you send your ult at the perfect moment, charming four enemies at once and creating the dream situation of any player.

Well, the rest of your team slowly dies because of heavy damage over time they took but it’s alright. The screen says in big letters: PENTA KILL! With his champion icon right under it, and in the game chat even the opposing team congratulates him, saying it was insane game play.

Then Narumi hears that same melody since the beginning of the game whenever you hit the dance animation and a new message in the game chat:

> victory dance for that lovely penta ( *｀ω´)

Reading the message, he watches your champion dance with his eyes glued to the screen, heat rising up to his face… absolutely adorable is what it is. Standing there with his champion, he then hits ctrl+3 as well to join you on the dance, letting the minions carry on.

The game is about to end, the opposing team begs in the chat to not end, to keep playing, meanwhile his team makes some jokes referencing early minutes of the match. Then at the last second, Narumi quickly types in and hits send.

The chat box reads: ‘support diff’

Before queuing up for another game, his hand acts on impulse and invites you to the lobby.

And to his surprise, you accept!

The sound of message notifications reaches his ears short after and he quickly reads over.

>awww >seems like someone enjoyed my presence;P

Adorable and cheeky, this just might be his best in game interactions by far. without a word, he queues up another game and another, the night goes on.

messages from you in-game keep on coming, at one point he thinks to himself "what he hell is a fryslan bop" to which you just send a keyboard smash followed by a "its a song lol"

so you are a chatter, he gathers quickly. not often but when you do, you send in a lot. he soon catches up to when you're actually talking versus spamming a song's lyrics while having Seraphine dance in your stead.

until you cancel the queue start up and send a message.

>gotta go >its late >booo >we jst got started >work tmr sry T-T

with a sigh, he watches as you leave and tries playing another match, but for some reason during the entirety of the match, he has no fun.

when you log into your game accounts in the evening, relieved to have an easy day, you notice a few friend request. "kaijuslayer"

you click accept and before you can open another tab, you instantly receive a lobby invite. its unreal how quick this person is... and how much he enjoys gaming, apparently. with no plans for the night and no desire to do anything else, you accept the invite.

Narumi is over the clouds to see not only has his request being accepted but also his invite too. gaming is more fun when you are winning, and thus playing with people who know what they're doing. you pick the same champion again and accomodate to his various picks, supporting him however he needs. it's perfect, it's distracting. while the two of you wait for the client to find another match, you begin to talk. since it's a friday, he tries his shot and asks if you'll stay for longer this time.

>nah >my v much serious v grownup job has saturdays too >and awfully early waking hours >sucks to b u> v serious v grownup huh >yea? >im starting to suspect u might b a child >OLIFSDJFIGOJSDOLŞGJSDFOLŞG >the calls coming from inside the house

before Narumi can send a reply, the 'match found' screen pops up and the two of you leave it there.

the match starts off smooth. he's farming a good amount, the two of you reached level 6 before the others, and as the opposing lane tries an ambush, you hit them with your ult, charming them in the process. as narumi begins to unleash his combo, your slowing down waves slither there gently, quitely. then follows your shield and speed buff, and right before his very eyes, your now-powered-up-double skill hits the enemies and the screen reads: "TRIPLE KILL" with your icon next to it.

as much of an ideal support as Seraphine is, Narumi remembers the fact all too painfully that Seraphine was first released as a midlaner... a very much capable AP damage unit if built that way. a part of wants to see, and a part of him is afraid of what he might see if he goes to check which items you have purchased- or if it was a brilliant calculation by itself.

as Narumi stares at the screen, Seraphine dances again, sometimes ending the animation to go around him. seeing him frozen for far too long, you ping him few times. as if his misery, and his kills stolen wasnt bad enough already, your team's jungle has the audacity to send a message to in-game chat. 'supp diff'’

complimenting his support? his duo? Narumi begins to see red.

as you begin to teleport back to the base, you send an emote of one of the characters, tongue poking out, winking and doing a peace sign.

and on his side of things, narumi gen cannot find it in him to stay mad at the turn of events- because just look how endearing and cute you are! it's alright if you took a kill or two by accident, you're still his support, his duo after all!

despite the... technical errors, the game ends in another victory and with you doing a victory dance again, now pinging him if he's staying idle until he joins you as well. his heart cannot take it. it's too much... and as if you are dead set on being the final blow, you send cute emotes, and whenever he sends one back, you reply with another, it goes and goes until the matches end.

a flood of message notification sounds brings him back to earth again.

>heeeey >r u gonna start the queue some time this year? >oh btw pick a color

puzzled at the last message, he says a color, not expecting much out of it. until he sees you have picked another skin with the chroma he said. candy and teeth- you are so adorable and charming, so bad for his poor health. waiting in your lane, you begin the dancing animation again and narumi grins at the screen, watching you dance.

oh no, this is bad. this is pathetic even for him now... he cannot be possibly finding some gamer maybe across the country, someone he never saw nor even heard the voice of charming...

maybe that annoying part time operations leader was right about his... pent up frustration... if he's this down for a game model supposedly representing a person, maybe you had a point when you implied he goes to seek some action and revive himself of whatever's been building up down there.

there is no way he can let anyone learn about this- worst of all, you. with your stoic face and condescending eyes, you'd never let him live that down.

Him! Narumi Gen! the first division captain and the strongest anti-kaiju combatant! he'd rather die than give you the satisfaction of knowing he's so desperate to get some sort of friction he's starting to mix an online person with the character they're playing.

aggressive pings snap him out of his running thoughts and he realizes he's a little behind game-play wise.

now, looking over at the match stats, it doesn't seem all to unsalvageable. he better get to it, there's a match to win and a lovely duo to impress.

[youngmanwithaskull]

doccy who... tumblr...

#erin.txt

4 notes

captain-of-the-dinosaurs

this sucks so bad i need to [remembers suicide jokes are bad] bring back the golden age

3 notes

timey-wimey-stuff reblogged:

captain-jacks-off

it's always 'jack why do you have a severed hand in a jar' or 'jack whose hand is that' and never 'wow jack it's so clever that you have a doctor detector' or 'wow jack i bet the doctor will definitely want you back and fix you whne he sees your doctor detector!'

timey-wimey-stuff

what the fuck

456 notes

UNIT-official reblogged:

the-magister

Kind if homophobic that UN.I.T spends all of their time chasing around a genderfluid queer person.

UNIT-official

Have you SEEN our staff.

#magister...hmm...

159 notes

captain of the dinosaurs reblogged:

travel-broadens-the-mind

you travel with a man for what feels like eternity and he leaves you in ABERDEEN . he has to go home so he leaves you in ABERDEEN like is tbis even REAL.

#this is the most doctor thing he's ever done #sorry sarah. #it's the doctor.

78 notes

hyperpopcomics

just learned jamie thinks tge doctor is a...fairy? like, he doesn't think the doctor is an alien, he thinks the doctor is a fairy. this explains a lot.

#zoe.txt

54 notes

dodo-bird

it's your last chance of living and your last chance to die... it's your last chance of boozing when there's no one to find...

#lyr #absolute bop !

clara-ravenwood

#clara.txt #he said he'd always see me. but

legends-of-ashildr

stop it i cannot continue showing up to the immortals brunch if jack keeps carrying the doctors severed hand around in a jar . it's embarrassing enough being around jack as he is

#me speaks #HATE him . jack harkness dni

misses-wright

one minute the guy you're traveling with us an old man in a little hat and the next... he's a twink running hand in hand with a scottish piper... oh how time flies

leela-of-the-savateem

what if we killed the taxes

[verbosenerv0sa]

legend has it that if you offer @blurringmysoul one (1) note he will be reminded of your existence and make like lil bunny foo foo the way he scoops up your last 50 posts and bops them on the head

[tagsecretsanta]

From @janetm74

From @janetm74 to @the-original-sineater

Dodecuplet: 12 musical notes performed in the time of the same value.

Or: 12 Christmas Eves over the years.

With much help from @mariashades

Prompts: 1) SCIENCE!! 2) Holiday in the Tropics  3)Odd family food traditions.  

One:  Scotland

Lucille Charlotte Evans met Amelia Candice Barclay on a wet and windy day in late August on the steps of a large house in St Andrews.

It was an inauspicious meeting. Lucille – Lucy to her friends – had just climbed out of a taxi and was about to drag her suitcase up the stairs when a gust of wind blew it out of her hands and she suddenly found herself racing down the hill after it.

Amelia happened to be the one who stopped it, or rather, was sent flying by it, and the two women, both strangers to Scotland, found themselves seated together in St Andrews Community Hospital Minor Injuries Unit while waiting for Amelia’s ankle to be x-rayed.

It turned out to be only badly sprained and a very guilty Lucy offered to take Amelia back to her home only to find out they were neighbours, sharing the same student accommodation only on different floors.

They quickly became firm friends by the end of the day, fuelled on the rather unusual local delicacy of deep-fried pizza, chips and cheap red wine.

Lucy was studying Astrophysics and Computer Science. Amelia was studying Economics and Social Anthropology. None of their classes overlapped but they had sections of time that did, and they often sat together in the University library or camped out in one of the museums in an out-of-the-way corner.

That first Christmas they both should have spent with their respective families but heavy snow grounded airflight and so they holed up in Amelia’s room and ate the only food they could scrounge up on Christmas Eve – haggis, neeps and tatties with  a dessert called cranachan and good whisky.

It was the weirdest feast both women had ever eaten. And the beginnings of a tradition they both tried hard to keep while in Uni together – Christmas Eve was always holed up in one of their rooms with their Scottish feast.

Two: Kansas

Ruth bustled around the farmhouse, singing at the top of her voice. The radio was blasting the top 100 tunes from the 80s and she was bopping as she plated food and wrapped them ready for the party.

‘Grant, hun, do you want a drink?’

‘Thanks, Ruthie, that would be lovely.’

She took out a bottle of root beer and watched with a fond smile as he turned the ribs in the smoker. No one cooked meat like her husband did, and while his Kansas BBQ beef was legend locally, so good that even Miss Ella had said she’d buy any leftovers off him – there were never any leftovers with her husband and son – but what Grant was really famous for was his Sweet Southern Slow-Cooker Ham.

Giving him a quick squeeze from behind Ruth returned to the kitchen to finish prepping all the cold foods they would need. It might be winter and cold here in Kansas but their Christmas wouldn’t be complete without the mounds of potato salad, coleslaw, soul food macaroni and pickles to go with the ham and burnt ends.. They’d never really been a turkey kind of family, reserving that bird exclusively to Thanksgiving.

Once Ruth had wrapped all the sides and packed them away she set about cleaning the house from top to bottom. A spick and span house she could do, cooking not so much, not unless you liked burnt as a flavour and a texture.

The day passed on and as it did so did the excitement in the household. Jeff was coming home today from NASA and he was bringing his best friends Lee Taylor and the Caseys. They hadn’t seen Jeff since the spring and as the sun began to go down the sound of a truck in the driveway heralded their guests.

Christmas Eve had become the traditional day they ate their meal and had done ever since the day they had married, with Ruth’s commitments at the local clinic they had always put other families ahead of their own, letting the workers have Christmas Day instead. Jeff had grown up knowing no different and loved having their celebrations a day early.

Arms snaked around her waist as Ruth put the kettle on and a head rested on her shoulder.

‘Ma, I swear you get younger every year.’

‘Flattery will not get you out of the dishes, Jefferson.’

‘Mmm, I’ll happily wash the dishes if Pa’s made his Ham and Burnt Ends.’

‘Stop asking stupid questions and take the coffees through.’

Jeff laughed and took the tray his Mom indicated.

Three: Kent

Lucy and Amelia’s friendship lasted long past University. It lasted the distance of the Atlantic Ocean.

NASA had snapped up Lucy once they’d seen her dissertation but despite the distance they chatted regularly and met up at least once a year, and always on Christmas Eve.

This year was going to be different.

This year Amelia had married.

It Amelia’s turn to host Christmas Eve dinner, and Lucy had brought her fiancé. They hadn’t been going out long but from the chats the two women were having Amelia knew this was the one.

She was eager to see her best friend again and hopeful that Lucy would get on with her husband. She’d laughed a good solid 10 minutes when she’d found out that Hugh was actually Lord Hugh Creighton-Ward, 11th Earl of Kent and that plain old Amelia Candice Barclay was to become Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward.

Speaking of her husband, she put down the spoon she was using to mix the swede and carrot mash and went to find him. It came as no surprise that he was holed up in his office – that Stanley the butler insisted on calling his ‘study’ – even on Christmas Eve. Her husband’s work for the Home Office didn’t stop just because it was an international holiday.

Knocking, she waited for his call before entering, and Amelia broke out into a grin at Hugh’s rueful face.

‘You caught me, Me!’

‘I did, Hugh. Are you done? Our guests should be arriving shortly.’

‘And you want me front and centre. Understood.’

‘I want you to be your usual witty self, my love.’

Hugh laughed and put his file back away in his safe before following his wife out to the kitchen. He pulled up a seat at the table and watched his wife putting the final touches to the meal they would shortly be serving.

He couldn’t believe this beautiful, amazing woman had agreed to marry him. He was ten years older, in a stodgy job and a member of the elite British aristocracy. The day his chauffeur accidently crushed her bike while parking was the day his life had changed. She’d been like a spitfire, giving first Grandy and, when she found out he was ‘just the chauffeur’ Amelia had turned to him and given him such a mouthful.

No one had ever spoken to him like that and by the time the lecture had finished he was smitten. They were engaged by the end of the month. Amelia had been a breath of fresh air to the estate. For a start off she worked closely with the staff to bring them more in line with the 21st Century and after some sweeping changes life had settled into a new routine.

Amelia loved to cook and Hugh had suddenly found that he loved to be in the kitchen, a place he’d never really frequented even as a boy. He loved watching her at work. She danced and sang unreservedly and created magic. He’d never eaten such food, and some of their meals had a distinctly Scottish flair on certain days, and his introduction to the national dish of haggis had been…interesting.

Now he was being inducted into another of Amelia’s traditions, the Scottish Feast on Christmas Eve. Amelia’s best friend Lucille was coming over from America with her partner Jeff. He’d met Lucy a couple of times but he knew Jeff by reputation.

Jefferson Tracy, first man on Mars. Everyone knew him. And now Hugh was about to have the man stay at the house with him. It didn’t faze him, he’d hobnobbed with the cream of British aristocracy and foreign diplomats, he was sure he could handle a hot-shot American.

They were going to eat relatively quickly after they arrived, it was late already and just as Amelia placed the last prepared dish into the aga a knock sounded on the door. She grinned at Hugh, grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her as they made their way to the door.

Opening it the two women may have squealed – not that either were going to admit that – and the two men shook hands before Jeff pressed a bottle of Pappy Van Winkles Family Reserve. Impressed at the gift, Hugh stood aside and allowed them entry.

‘Good evening. Hugh Creighton-Ward. Please call me Hugh.’

‘Jefferson Tracy. Please call me Jeff. Thanks for invitin’ us.’

‘My pleasure. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

‘Lucy has been talking about nothing else for weeks.’

They settled into the kitchen rather than the dining room and Amelia passed around the hot toddies she’d prepared.

By the time dinner was over both men were firm friends and a new tradition had been created, with the invitation for the Creighton-Wards to come to Kansas next year.

Four: Dibrugarh

This Christmas Eve was going to be different.

Jeff, Lucy and their four children were off to Dibrugarh in India. Hugh, Amelia and their daughter Penelope had moved out early in the year ostentatiously to take on a job overseeing a tea plantation. The heat wasn’t really agreeing with Penny, but the ten-year-old was being a trooper.

The plane ride was long but enjoyable. They had flown from Kansas to Chicago and spent the day in the Windy City before sleeping overnight and taking the longest flight the boys had ever been on, 14 hours from Chicago to Delhi. With any other children it would probably have been difficult, but all boys had grown up flying, Scott starting at two months old. From Delhi to Dibrugarh, the last stretch being a little over three hours.

Hugh met them at the airport and drove them to a large villa on the outskirts of the town. It was obviously a new build but it was light and spacious and airy, just right for the temperature.

Drinks called Sherberts were given out and rather than collapsing in a tired heap Jeff and Lucy watched in amusement when the boys got a second wind, following Penny out and exploring while it was the adults who collapsed in a heap.

‘God, Hugh, I thought it would be hot in India!’

‘Not at this time of year.’

They laughed over drinks and chatted while the children ran in and out the rooms, even Penny coming out of her shell to join the boys in a game of tag.

Christmas Eve this year was not the Scottish Feast but an Indian one in the style of a Thali. Bhaat (steamed rice), Dal, Bhendir Sarosi (okra in mustard sauce), Lau Tenga (bottle gourd), Aloo Pitika (potatoes), Xaak Bhaji and the sides Kharoli – a papaya chutney and Assamese pickle, all washed down with a drink called Khar.

None of the Tracys were expecting a mild but highly spiced vegetarian meal, but they all enjoyed what was put before them, the boys in particular loving the open nature of the food and that they not only could help themselves from the central tray but that they could eat with their fingers. The meal was finished off with a selection of Indian sweets and glasses of Mango Lassi.

Scott declared that Indian sweets were almost as good as apple pie to the laughter of all. Lucy spent time with Amelia and the two woman who had helped cook the feast, taking notes and looking forward making some of these dishes once she’d returned home.

The evening ended with presents as usual and a happy puppy pile of Tracys and Creighton-Wards wrapped up tightly in blankets as fireworks lit up the sky.

Five: Fiji

Lucy rubbed her bump. She was getting big and pretty soon she’d have to stop flying. This was going to be their last holiday before baby number five was born.

Their Christmas vacation place this year held a double purpose. Not only were they holidaying in the tropics to give Lucy and John some much needed summer sun after both had been hospitalised with severe pneumonia, but they were here for a surprise Christmas present.

Jeff had been so secretive, the only indication of what he’d been up to was the location. Lucy looked out the window of their private jet as Jeff brought them into land. The ocean was so clear and sparkling!

Fiji was hot in comparison to Kansas, and for that first day Lucy just rested on the beach and baked. And boy did she feel better that evening! John too had some colour to his cheeks and Jeff relaxed a little, seeing that he’d made a good choice.

They had three days before the Creighton-Wards would join them. There was sadness at the thought. Penny had returned to England after a year in India, citing the weather as a reason, although Jeff and Lucy had their suspicions as to the real reason, but they would never ask and put their relationship under strain. It would be the first time Hugh and Amelia had seen their daughter for two years.

The boys understood to give the family room, and after an afternoon spent swimming and exploring the beach they returned to the villa to find the Creighton-Ward’s in their own puppy pile, evidence of tears long dried on all faces.

That evening they rested and just reorientated themselves around each other after missing last year.

Christmas Eve began with more swimming and sun lounging, with a thirteen-year-old Scott trying out some waterskiing for the first time. Lunch was going to be their Lovo Feast. Plates of Kokoda, Palisami, Fish Lolo and Vakalolo for dessert.

The food was some of the strangest they had ever eaten. Gordon’s face when he saw the raw fish made everyone laugh. But soon they had eaten their fill and rested and then Jeff was chivvying them all to the airport for his surprise.

The jet had been refuelled and was ready for them all but Jeff refused to say where they were going. He banned everyone from the cockpit…and that was when the Tracy family realised that the windows had been blacked out.

They had no way of knowing where Jeff was flying them…

It wasn’t too long a journey and they had soon landed. Jeff let them out and held Lucy close as she looked at where they were.

It was an island. Behind them a mountain rose up, in front and below them was a cove and a small patch of sandy beach. There was a gasp from every individual as they stepped off the plane onto the tiny runway. Her husband pulled her close and kissed her head.

‘Jeff?’

‘Do you like it?’

‘Like it…? What have you done?’

‘Done? Why, I’ve bought us an island to holiday on and eventually retire to.’

‘Oh.’

‘Oh? Is that all you can say?’

Lucy turned in his arms and kissed him soundly to the whistles and catcalls of their boys.

‘Was that enough words?’

‘Yes. Boys, Hugh, Amelia, Penny – welcome to Tracy Island.

Six: Kansas

This year Christmas was cancelled.

Scott tried his hardest but no one had the heart for it. With Alan still only a baby really at 21 months old there didn’t seem a point as he wouldn’t miss Christmas if they didn’t do it, and none of his other brothers had been able to muster up enough…drive, desire, want – Scott didn’t know what to call it – to do anything this year. And he couldn’t blame them.

They were never going to be whole again.

Seven: New York

It had been a battle Scott had lost despite fighting bitterly.

Jeff had sunk himself into Tracy Industries since their Mom and Grandpa’s death and the business had gone from strength to strength. And then earlier in the spring Jeff had hit a milestone, opening his headquarters in a new skyscraper in New York of all places as the first of many in an empire that was now beginning to go global.

This year had also seen changes at home, with both Scott and John leaving for their respective colleges and Gordon beginning to become a serious contender with his swimming. The Squid was going to go places – namely the Olympics – and he’d been pestering his Dad to let him attend a residential school that catered for Olympic hopefuls.

This Christmas Jeff had put his foot down. It was the first one since his boys had left and he was going to make the most of it.

Unfortunately, ‘make the most of it’ meant that instead of celebrating in a relaxed atmosphere at home they were all dressed up – suited and booted – and at Tracy Tower for the staff Christmas Party.

Scott had had words about dragging his brothers here, how it was unfair of Jeff to schedule the party on today of all days, but Jeff had held firm and dismissed him with a wave of his hand and the cutting remark that Scott didn’t know what he was talking about.

They had stopped talking for the last two days, but Scott was determined to give his brothers the best Christmas ever and had taken them all to Central Park that day and spoiled them rotten.

The staff party itself was actually fine, and Scott began to relax as it became clear that this was not one of his Dad’s networking meetings. A small band was playing Christmas pop tunes and people were dancing.

The food was…well, the food was delicious but there just wasn’t enough of it. Aware enough that if he ate as much as his stomach was telling him he needed to he’d probably get into trouble, Scott nibbled sadly as he wandered the room and looked out for his brothers.

John had brought a book and had curled up in a chair in the corner, resolutely ignoring all attempts at conversation. Virgil was currently under one of the tables, his sketch book out and another page being filled with whatever took the artist’s eye. Gordon was on his best behaviour, their dad making it absolutely clear that any discussion about him leaving home depended on his ability to show he was mature enough for it. And little Alan was with John, sitting under his chair and playing with the build-a-rocket kit that Scott had bought him earlier that day.

A hand on his shoulder had him freeze until a familiar voice sounded in his ear. Grinning, he turned and took in the sight of Penny, dressed in a…a…well, in a pink dress. Scott had no fashion sense; he had no idea what she was wearing.

But she looked stunning.

He took her hand and kissed it before offering her the floor, and at her slight nod Scott swept her up in a dance.

Maybe today wasn’t going to be a total loss after all…

Later that night the three eldest and Penny lay sprawled over the couch munching pizza and drinking pop as their fathers chatted over whisky in the kitchen. If Scott had his arm around Penny and if Penny was snuggling into his embrace well no one was going to mention it.

Eight: London

Penny hopped from foot to foot, much to Parker’s amusement. And he hoped that this Christmas would be a turning point for his ward.

They had buried Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward that spring and it had hit her daughter harder than expected. After spending so long apart, the news that her parents were moving back to England had filled Penny with hope for the opportunity to get to know them all over again, but they’d barely been back when her mother got sick.

The family that Penny was expecting had been instrumental in helping her through, and in particular the eldest, who would be arriving before everyone else since he was currently based in Germany.

She’d be lying if the thought of having Scott to herself hadn’t sparked something in her heart. Ever since that Christmas in Fiji they had been getting closer, and Scott had been calling her regularly since her mum…yeah, he knew how she felt, what she was going through. They would talk for what felt like hours even though each call was only around 30 minutes.

And there he was!

A head higher than everyone else, Scott strode confidently across the airport, looking for Penny. A shift in the crowd drew his attention, and Scott grinned as he saw Penny standing there, oblivious to the way the crowds parted for her – assisted in no small part from the grim expression on her guardian, Parker. He saw the moment she saw him, her smile lighting up the atmosphere.

Scott quickened up and, dropping his duffle at her feet, he caught her about the waist and swung her up and around, cherishing her laughter as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

They were staying in what Penny had called ‘the town house’. That term had not prepared Scott for the four-story house in the heart of Knightsbridge. Parker took Scott’s bag to his room and made his way to the kitchen where he prepared tea as slowly as he could. His Lady needed Scott right now.

He found them in the front drawing room, seated on the sofa. Scott was holding a sobbing Penny and he offered Parker a small smile as he tightened his hold. Parker sat the tray down and made a tactful withdrawal.

The next morning Parker drove them to the airport to pick up the rest of the Tracy family. He watched his ward and the boy through the mirror. She was looking brighter, and something loosened in his heart.

Parker watched as the boys gave his lady hugs and surrounded the pair before they swarmed through the airport to the car. They filled the space with a comfortable noise, both in the car and in the house, and they helped Penny relaxed even more.

Lil had made a light lunch so that the dinner could be the Christmas Eve feast Lord Hugh had asked her to prepare. After lunch Parker had taken Jeff to go and collect Hugh from his office and the rest settled down to watch some Christmas movies.

Scott and Penny were on one sofa, with Alan sitting on his brother’s lap and leaning back against him. John was sitting on the floor between Penny and his brother while Virgil and Gordon were curled up on the other sofa. All four brothers were asleep before the movie was even halfway through, their body clocks not yet adjusted to all the time they’d spent flying, and Scott and Penny let them snooze on so that they’d be fresh for the evening.

The smells from the kitchen soon roused the boys, and there was much amusement when Scott returned from there with red ears, red cheeks and a red hand. He slid back into his seat just as their fathers arrived home. There were more hugs and some chatting and then Parker returned to announce that dinner was ready.

Lillian had been given a very specific feast to create, a mixture of the family favourites. It was one of the most eclectic dinners she’d ever put together. It shouldn’t have worked, but for some reason it did. Lil reckoned it was because of who they all were, Parker wasn’t so sure, muttering under his breath about ‘boys’ and ‘cast iron stomachs thanks to Mrs Tracy senior’.

Haggis held court with baked ham with glazed vegetables. Plates of Fish Lolo sat next to Xaak Bhaji and sides of Kharoli and steamed Bhaat and to top it all off there were several desserts.

The families didn’t quieten down at all as food was consumed. And Parker was pleased to see his master and mistress begin to smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.

Nine: Germany

Jeff sat in the chair and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before stretching as much as possible while still sitting in the ridiculously uncomfortable chair.

He must have made a sound he was unaware of as a low moan came from the bed and Jeff sat forward carefully, picking up Scott’s hand as carefully as he could, mindful of the canula and the still-healing digits.

But Scott didn’t wake fully and after he settled back to sleep Jeff sighed.

A nurse entered with a tray and set it down on the table before pulling out her pad and recording details from the machines still attached to his son.

He took a deep breath.

His son.

His son was here.

Scott was here, alive.

Scott was alive.

Jeff still couldn’t believe Scott was there, and he gently kissed his son’s hand and placed it back on the bed.

‘Mr Tracy?’

‘Uh…yes?’

‘I brought you a meal.’

‘A – a meal?’

‘It’s Christmas Eve, Mr Tracy. We don’t have much, it is a military hospital after all, but we have a little. I don’t know what you eat but I brought some ham, turkey and some vegetables. And I’m sorry but I could only get green Jello for dessert.’

‘Nurse…?’

‘Abby. Please, sir, call me Abby.’

‘Abby, I am very, very touched by this.’

‘You are more than welcome, Sir.’

He eyed the tray, not inclined in the least to try and eat anything and turned back to watching Scott. Jeff didn’t pay any more heed to the nurse, but as she left she paused in the doorway.

‘Colonel Tracy, I just want you to know that your son is in the very best of hands and we’re proud to be looking after him.’

‘Thank you, Abby. That – that means a lot.’

‘I know you don’t want to eat, but Scott needs you to be strong so please try and eat something.’

‘I – I will.’

The door closed quietly and Jeff looked at the tray again. Green Jello had been the dessert Virgil had loved the most, fighting his brothers for it, invariably being rescued by Scott snatching it out of Gordon’s hands. Scott’s was always the red one, much like Alan. Stifling a sob at the memory, Jeff picked up the Jello and ate it slowly as he watched his son’s chest rise and fall.

Ten: Argentina

It was a heavy feeling of déjà vu as Jeff sat at another bedside and held the hand of another son who he’d believed was dead, but turned out Tracys were determined people, for which Jeff thanked his Irish ancestors.

Another bed, another military hospital, another Christmas away from the rest of his boys as he tried to keep one alive.

He’d never believed that anyone could come back more injured than Scott. His eldest had been held and tortured in a supposed POW camp for three months and had his arm and leg bones broken. Many had healed incorrectly and Scott had needed multiple surgeries to reset breaks. But that had needed to wait until he was better – if the double pneumonia, sepsis and malaria didn’t kill him first.

But Gordon, in typical younger sibling energy, had outdone his eldest brother.

The hydrofoil crash had claimed the lives of all the crew, and for almost half an hour Gordon too, but the paramedics had been able to bring him back from the dead. And when Jeff had finally managed to get someone to talk to him he had found out that Gordon had broken almost every bone, including his spine.

Even as he sat stunned at the news Scott had corralled everyone he knew to try and look for a solution to get his brother walking again, refusing to believe that their Squid could lose that ability.

Brains had come up with the solution, working closely with the spinal surgeons and physios to replace the broken sections of vertebrae and nerves with a Cahelium scaffolding framework.

Gordon had had the first surgery yesterday. He was still under; the operation had taken all day and most of the night and the anaesthesia was yet to wear off. Jeff began massaging the hand he held, humming one of Lucy’s tunes as he did in an effort to both stir Gordon and comfort them both.

‘I haven’t heard you hum that tune for a long time.’

Jeff looked to the door where Scott stood, a bad in one hand and two coffees in the other. His cane was nowhere in sight and he frowned at his son. Scott half-shrugged, completely unapologetic and Jeff sighed in exasperation.

‘How is he?’

‘Same as he was before you left for coffee.’

‘Yeah…’

Scott trailed off. Being here in these circumstances…it was bringing back unwanted memories. He’d bolted a couple of times, but he was getting better at staying. Having a younger sibling who needed him was helping him cope better with the trauma he’d been through himself.

This time he’d left willingly, for coffee. And returned with more. He took something from the bag before handing it to his Dad. Jeff wasn’t surprised to see an apple Danish in Scott’s hand and one in the bag for himself.

They solemnly tapped their cups together.

‘Merry Christmas, Dad.’

‘Merry Christmas, Scott.’

‘Do…Do you think you can keep it down? How’s a Squid supposed to sleep?’

It was the first genuine smile either man had smiled for a long time.

Eleven: International Rescue

There was an air of festivities on Tracy Island the like they hadn’t had for a long time. Everyone was here, both family and friends.

International rescue had been operating for almost eight months, and in that time their reputation had gone from strength to strength. Lee Taylor, Tim and Val Casey and Jeff had been the founders, but the last four months Jeff and Lee had been training Scott, John and Virgil to take their roles in the organisation set up in honour of their Mom.

Christmas on the island was polar opposite to Kansas where they had grown up. December was quite warm – around 70°F compared to about 25°F in Kansas – and although they’d officially lived on the island for a few years now, this was the first Christmas all the Tracys, the Creighton-Wards, the Kyranos and Brains were together. Only the Caseys and Lee were missing, Tim and Val unable to get out of work at the GDF due to some top-secret test (that Scott and John absolutely did not know about, no sir, they did not know about the Zero-X at all) about to occur and Lee because he was back on Alphie, trying to persuade NASA not to destroy their beloved base.

Virgil had been acting oddly all week, and once John had come down he’d joined him, they immediately stopped whatever they were doing every time Jeff walked into the same room. He’d caught whispers about something lost, but to be honest Jeff was just revelling in having all five boys and Tanusha under the same roof for once.

Their Dad wasn’t the only one who had noticed John and Virgil’s odd behaviour. Both Scott and Gordon had, but Scott had his hands full with Alan, the eight-year-old had clung to his eldest brother like a limpet, not that Scott minded, but that meant leaving Gordon to find out what was going on…Gordon promised that he would behave but Scott knew better than to trust that kind of promise – there were many shades to “behaving” when it came to Gordon and Scott was well versed in his prankster brother’s ability to create loopholes. Both brothers would vehemently deny it, but when it came to finding loopholes in something John and Gordon were identical. Scott himself would deny that he and Gordon were the same when it came to pranks, but he’d be lying just as much as John would be…

Whatever they were trying to do also involved Virgil’s studio. The place was a strict ‘invite-only’ place, but Virgil had taken to locking the door – both when he was out of the studio and when he was inside – and had lived up to his “bear” reputation when Scott had tried to find out what they were up to. He had backed away quickly when Virgil literally growled at him.

As the week progressed the smells coming from the studio were mouthwatering, though, and as time passed more and more Scott found himself wandering past trying to work out what the two were up to.

All anyone could work out was that it was definitely *ham* that was being cooked, but why it needed such secrecy was anyone’s guess.

Christmas Eve dawned clear, bright and hot. Breakfast was a riotous affair with so many people, an eclectic mix of traditional American, English and Malay foods meaning everyone had something they enjoyed.

Dinner was due that evening, giving everyone all day for whatever activities they had planned. Games were played, films played in the background. Lunch was a spread of finger food for them to help themselves as they so wished.

Virgil and John disappeared back into the studio. Out of the kiln Virgil pulled the latest attempt at recreating Grandpa Grant’s Baked Ham. This was their fifth attempt but, as tasty as the ham was, it was missing something. Virgil sighed despondently as John’s hand landed on his shoulder and gave him s squeeze.

‘I really wanted this to be ready for tonight but – *sigh* – it won’t be.’

‘It would have been nice, I agree, but you’re really close!’

‘Not close enough, John.’

‘We can do this, Virgil! It’s just a matter of using science and all our taste and memories to work out what Grandpa’s secret ingredient was!’

‘The secret ingre….’

The klaxon drowned out whatever else was going to be said and both men legged to the lounge where the command centre had already been engaged.

‘There’s a problem with the Zero-X launch. Scott, suit up and meet me in One. John, can you return to Five and direct us from there?’

‘FAB Dad.’

‘FAB, Dad.’

‘Kyrano, you have the command centre. Thunderbirds are go!’

Later on, when Scott finally came home, dinner had been forgotten as had all thoughts of food. Once he returned to the lounge Alan all but launched himself at Scott, his other brothers following suit. The four collapsed in a huddle in the middle of the floor, with John’s holo looking on. Pretty soon they were joined by Penny and Kayo and then the older adults surrounded them.

For the second time in their lives Christmas was cancelled.

Twelve: Tracy Island – Together Again

‘What about this?’

‘No – I’ve looked in that box. What about that one?’

‘Hang on…yes! They’re in here!’

This year promised to be their best Christmas ever!

In early spring the five of them with Brains had done the impossible. They had flown to the Oort Cloud, rescued their Father and returned home. Jeff had spent the remainder of the year in a specialist rehab centre, but now he was due home.

Due home on Christmas Eve. What could be more perfect?

So Tracy Island became a hive of activity as everyone prepared for his return. Scott got busy making sure iR and TI could survive the day without them, Gordon and Alan took it upon themselves to decorate the lounge. Brains had muttered something about snow and Kayo was busy in the kitchen with her father and Parker cooking up a feast. Even Uncle Lee had been picked up from Mars earlier in the week by Alan and John.

Virgil and John took it upon themselves to spend the week perfecting Grandpa’s Baked Ham recipe in celebration of having their family all under one roof again. The villa soon filled with the delectable smell of ham.

Every day they tried a new combination in their quest. John had suggested using science to work out what they were missing.

So they started at the beginning by asking the question – AKA ‘interrogating’ Grandma.

Unfortunately Grandma knew nothing. Her husband had been protective of his recipe, not because he didn’t trust her, but because Grant knew what a terrible cook his wife was. It had been a joke that Sally could burn water for their entire married life, and she’d proved that to be the case so, so many times. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that there would come a time when he wouldn’t be around anymore…

So the two brothers formed a hypothesis and theorised that Grandpa would have used ingredients to hand, so they thought long and hard about the kinds of food flavourings they had seen around the old kitchen farmhouse.

Based on that hypothesis they gathered groups of flavourings to try as the predictions part of the scientific method.

Testing the hypothesis had been fun at first. They had mixed flavourings like some kind of kitchen wizards, testing combinations out.

Their family had appreciated most of the ham results. At first. After three days and seven hams even Gordon had begun to complain, but Scott remained oblivious to the amount of thick-cut ham sandwiches he was consuming as he worked.

Tests complete, they analysed the data and drew some conclusions. Nothing matched. They had come close a couple of times, but there was still one key ingredient they were missing, so they tried a different method.

They began searching for their Grandpa’s secret recipe.

They tore into the storage room in the basement, looking through old boxes of stuff that hadn’t been opened since they had moved here from Kansas. They had had to stop for the rest of the day when they stumbled on the one filled with pictures of their Mom and them growing up.

John picked up a heavy box to place it on top of another to make it easier to look into. He’d been down almost the entire week and so gravity wasn’t its usual problem, but the box was heavier than he had anticipated and in manoeuvring it he caught the bottom box. It was enough to make the bottom of the box he was carrying split open, spilling books all over the floor.

A particularly heavy tome flattened his toes and John yelped. Virgil abandoned his box to come and make sure his brother wasn’t too badly hurt, picking up an old tractor manual. It was for Grandpa’s old Deere, the tractor both he and a tiny Virgil had adored both – it was a giant green machine after all…

A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he flicked through the well-thumbed pages, some still with Grandpa’s oily fingerprints on. As he browsed a yellowing slip of paper full of Grandpa’s neat, careful writing slipped out from between the pages.

With slightly shaking fingers John bent to pick the page up and read it aloud:

Sweet Southern Slow-Cooker Ham

“Ingredients:

1 bone-in fully-cooked ham, about 5.5lb

1 cup apple cider vinegar

½ cup of dark brown sugar

1/3 cup of Kentucky bourbon

¼ cup of honey

¼ cup Dijon-style mustard

4+ sprigs of thyme”

Virgil smacked his forehead. Bourbon? The missing ingredient was bourbon?? He picked John up and swung him around. Both men were laughing before carefully packing the box and putting it back away and returning to the studio.

Several hours later and Virgil was bringing Two into land.

They were all there to bring their Dad home and Jeff was revelling in just being here. He still used a cane to walk around, but he was so much more than the husk of a man they had rescued ten months ago. He’d put on weight, had almost got used to gravity again and was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed with his own children, his Ma and his friends all around him.

Christmas Eve. What a special day to return home. There were so many Christmas Eves that had been special for various reasons, but today was going to be the best ever. As they arrived in the lounge to the cheering of those who had stayed behind and to the smells of food ready to be eaten.

Jeff watched as his children and his friend’s children orientated themselves around him and each other. Huh…interesting. He’d known Scott and Penny had a bit of a thing for each other before…before that time, but now to see Penny sitting with Gordon he realised that ship had sailed. Instead, Scott had gravitated to Kayo, an unusual pairing to be sure, Jeff thought, seeing that they were potentially too similar in temperament, but if it worked then he’d be more than happy for both boys.

Ma, Kyrano and Parker were busy laying the table when John and Virgil brought in a covered dish. There were a few groans from Gordon and Alan which had Jeff raising his eyebrows at them and they quietened down.

The ham was uncovered with a flourish once everyone was seated and ready to help themselves. Scott, recognising the smell of Grandpa’s secret Baked Ham, insisted that Jeff have the first slice and that everyone wait until their Dad and friend had pronounced judgement.

The smell hit Jeff like a thunderbolt. He’d not smelt this particular aroma for…wow, was it really almost twenty years since they had lost Lucy and his Pa? Water welled but didn’t fall from his eyes as Jeff fought to keep his composure.

And then he tastes it.

Tears fell as memories of home, of being a child growing up on the farm, of that first Christmas he’d introduced Lucy to his parents, of the time a two-year-old Scott had managed to pull the tablecloth off the table and was busy hoovering up the food that had fallen, heedless of the adults’ cries of panic over the broken glass and China.

That first time Hugh, Amelia and Penny had come over for Christmas and then Kyrano and Kayo had joined them…and Brains too vied with thoughts of the dried astronaut food he’d sustained himself on when alone out there in the Oort Cloud.

All these memories rushed upon him and Jeff suddenly realised he’d dropped his fork and was just sitting there staring into space, his family looking on with worried faces.

Jeff cleared his throat and wiped his eyes.

‘Thank you. Thank you all. This is without doubt the best Christmas Eve I have had in a very, very long time.’

[brucebocchi]

Ranking 2024 anime, Pt. 2: #40-31

hey, this post is also available on my ko-fi, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i do this for free and am currently between jobs. you can find part 1 of the list here. thanks!

Alright, on we go to the list proper. The first post was probably whiplash-inducing, going from a bunch of shorter stuff I loved to whole seasons I hated, but we can only go up from here. I watched a lot of anime this year, as the numbers indicate, so there's a little positivity to be found even in the lower rankings.

As always, OPs are linked in the series titles. Watch them, they're almost all great.

40. Metallic Rouge

One of the biggest disappointments of the year, one which I didn’t think could be outdone (and I’ll get to that one shortly). Metallic Rouge had so much going for it as a Studio Bones original for its anniversary, and managed to fumble all of its promise and goodwill in slow, agonizing fashion. 

It’s a shame, too. Metallic Rouge still looks awesome; the character and mech designs are excellent, the space-cyberpunk aesthetic is undeniable, and the animation can be terrific when it counts. The story, on the other hand, is so completely asinine that I was sick of this show before it ended. I’ve mostly forgotten what even happens, partly because it was that infuriating to keep up with, and partly because I feel like the writers forgot too; the bulk of any actual story felt backloaded into the last two or three episodes because they focused too hard on vibes for a while. I think they were trying to go for some “G-Witch by way of Detroit: Become Human” something or other, but all of it rang hollow. I’m still not sure whether it needed more runtime or better writers. Probably both.

Not worth your time. Just watch the OP and imagine a better show than what we got.

39. Mysterious Disappearances

I’ve thought so little about this show since it went off the air that I don’t really have anything new to say. Looks pretty lousy most of the time, not that interesting, oddly horny, and the plot structure gets kind of cloying after a while.

I know I harped on that last point when I reviewed it at the end of the spring season, but something funny happened after I did. Back in July, I mentioned that I took issue with the formula of “we encounter a paranormal anomaly, it’s identified as a yokai or urban legend, we learn its tragic backstory, our protagonists give it closure, and we move on” because it felt manipulative after I realized that it happened with every arc, and then I went ahead and read DanDaDan, which basically does exactly the same thing but a hell of a lot better. Comparing a middling work like this to DanDaDan of all things feels unfair, but they cover pretty similar ground. Maybe it’s sharper writing, or maybe it’s just a more engaging work. Who’s to say?

I’d also said in my review that Mysterious Disappearances unintentionally gives off the vibe of a poorly-archived mid-2000s series, but I hadn’t realized just how right I was: It turns out that studio Zero-G just went ahead and made up its own ending even though the source material is still ongoing. Better shows did the same this year, but the studio and I seem to have the same level of faith that this anime’s ever coming back.

38. My Deer Friend Nokotan

Honestly? Fuck this show.

I’ve already gone into what I did and didn’t like about Nokotan after it went off air a few months ago and I don’t care to revisit that while it’s still relatively fresh. Not nearly as funny as it pretended to be, yet still not even confident in its own sense of humor. The OP's still a bop (calling it "Shikairo Days" was a genuinely great joke), and a small handful of gags do land, but not enough to prevent this from being a massive disappointment.  At the same time, Nokotan was still somehow not the biggest letdown of the year.

37. Uzumaki

This was the biggest letdown of the year.

When an anime adaptation of the legendary Junji Ito horror manga was first announced in 2019, it was hard not to get excited. Even when I’d mostly fallen out of anime fandom, I knew damn well who Junji Ito was and I knew Uzumaki. Adult Swim was funding the project, a prestige studio in Production I.G. was handling the animation, and they even nabbed Hereditary composer Colin Stetson for the score. Ito’s manga is famously very difficult to adapt well, and it looked like we finally had a project being taken seriously. Delays and radio silence in the ensuing years were disappointing, but I was willing to be patient if it meant everything was being handled right. When the trailer dropped this summer, it looked like it would be worth the wait.

And for one glorious episode, it seemed like everyone’s patience paid off. Uzumaki’s debut episode was one of the most visually arresting pieces of animation I’ve ever seen: The entire look and feel was faithful to Ito’s inimitable style, from the meticulously detailed linework to the stark black-and-white color grading of his manga’s pages. On top of that, the animation itself was absurdly good; the process of rotoscoping 3D motion capture seemed arduous, but the end result was beautifully lifelike for a story where that quality could only serve to instill further terror. Several of the most iconic images from the early chapters looked incredible in hi-def motion. Sure, the pacing was a little fast, but this was a four-episode miniseries. We could deal. This was just too good.

And then came the second episode.

I’m not going to over-elaborate or relitigate every single thing that went wrong here, because it’s a lot. Uzumaki was in development for a long time, and that five year gap between announcement and release included several detriments to the production process, not the least of which being COVID, animation production changing hands between several studios, and new leadership for Adult Swim’s parent company that now favors profit over product, especially when it comes to animation that doesn’t involve DC characters. Plenty of us figured that all of these delays and a run of only four episodes meant that they had the time to hammer out all the issues and give us the best possible product. That, unfortunately, was not the case.

Responding to complaints about the decline in animation in the second episode, executive producer Jason DeMarco (who, to be blunt, has overseen several mediocre-to-awful anime products released under the Adult Swim brand, including my bottom-ranked anime of 2023) claimed in a quickly-deleted Bluesky thread that there is indeed a higher-up to blame and that they were left with an ultimatum to either drop Uzumaki after just one episode, let it go the way of so many other Warner Bros non-releases under David Zaslav’s disastrous leadership, or release the whole miniseries in its half-baked state. They went with the third.

So, what we got was an uneven, often sloppy work; another mediocrity to throw on the pile of failed Junji Ito adaptations. All goodwill established in the first episode is soon undone by wonky character models, uncanny walk cycles, and movement that looks like PNGs being dragged across a background at the most inopportune times. Plenty of viewers, myself included, were willing to overlook the accelerated pacing after the first episode, but that issue was thrown into stark relief by the second when entire chapters of the manga began playing out simultaneously, and one was even reduced to an afterthought for a cheap “scare” at the end of episode three. 

Not that I thought Uzumaki necessarily needed a full 12-episode season for a proper adaptation or anything; Ito’s output can often be light on story, and dragging it out too far risks losing interest. What makes Ito’s stories actually work, though, is a proper sense of setting and space to let tensions rise. That didn’t entirely happen here; while the atmosphere of Kurozu-cho does plenty resemble what we’ve seen from Ito’s pages, and Stetson’s atonal saxophone does a lot of work to raise the level of unease, things just kind of happen. Few things really get the chance to land as intended, in part due to the production quality cheaping out at climactic moments.

This was the last anime I finished this year even though I’d watched the first two episodes after they aired and it went off the air in October. I was looking forward to the last two episodes that little. There are still bits and pieces of great animation and faithful adaptation here and there, but not enough to regain any goodwill from the second episode’s wheels visibly falling off. Maybe it’s finally time to declare Junji Ito’s works unadaptable once and for all. 

Definitely watch that first episode, though. At this point I kind of wish that’s all we’d gotten.

36. Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!

Straitlaced Nice Guy moves to a new town, laid-back gyaru from his class immediately takes a liking to him, a couple other girls enter the picture, shenanigans ensue, and a slow-burn romance begins in parallel. Nothing special on paper and nothing much more special than that in execution. The setting is lovely, though, and it really made me want to visit Hokkaido one day. Nicely done, tourism board.

If you watched this and were put off by it, I don’t blame you; I probably would’ve been too if I hadn’t decided to read ahead in the manga. I will say this, though: If you liked Hokkaido Gals even a little, read the manga. It’s a minor investment, but if you can get over the halfway mark, it gets surprisingly good and has a really lovely ending. 

The anime, on the other hand? Meh. Doesn’t look super great and didn’t have enough time in 12 episodes to overcome most of the issues the source material had to move past to get to what made it worthwhile. It would take another season or two to get there, and that probably isn’t gonna happen. Great OP, though (I'm starting to repeat myself, I know). Just read the manga.

35. No Longer Allowed in Another World

Boasting one of the most audacious premises for an isekai I’ve ever seen, No Longer Allowed in Another World doesn’t shy away from the implications of an Osamu Dazai isekai, has the dark humor to match, and provides some fascinating commentary on the type of person who tends to consume wish-fulfillment isekai. Unfortunately, the presentation was a little lacking and threatened to lose my attention several times. I think the idea is much better on paper, to the point where I might test that theory and go read the manga.

34. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic

The next dozen or so anime in the rankings fall into a category of either “well-made anime that I found kind of frustrating” or “middling anime that I kind of enjoyed.” The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic is very much the latter. It’s a standard isekai on paper; demon king, special powers, what have you, but it has a likable cast and laid-back vibe for much of its runtime that made it pleasant enough to watch.

As I said after the winter season, I really liked that Wrong Way spends a lot of its early story ensuring that the protagonist expends the time and effort necessary for him to become the hero he’s meant to be instead of the narrative just handing it to him from the start, which instantly sets it apart from most other wish-fulfillment isekai. It’s far from the best-looking anime I watched this year, but it has a mid-00s throwback look and feel to it that works more to its benefit than in Mysterious Disappearances. Nothing groundbreaking and a little too backloaded, but an enjoyable enough experience and one I’m looking forward to seeing come back. 

The only really upsetting thing about this show is that Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi, Bayonetta, Kainé), who was tremendous as the intimidating Captain Rose, is no longer with us. She was an exceptional talent with an iconic voice who will be sorely missed, and future seasons of this show won’t be the same without her.

33. Go! Go! Loser Ranger

Though not a bad anime by most metrics, I still consider Loser Ranger a minor disappointment. It mostly looks great, and “what if The Boys was a sentai series” is a killer premise, but the story so far is extremely frontloaded. Almost too much happens in the first four episodes, and then the bulk of the last arc of the season takes place in a goddamn parking garage. I’m still annoyed by that. Still looking forward to season 2, but I wish the debut season had been 24 episodes to avoid the sour taste in my mouth.

Did you hear that echo? Yep, that's me telling you to watch yet another OP. Easily the best part of the show and one of the best of the year. Tatsuya Kitani can't keep getting away with it.

32. Astro Note

2024 turned out to be a banner year for Rumiko Takahashi’s older works making their way back to modern screens, and one of those entries wasn’t even hers.

Astro Note is an overt homage to Takahashi’s less-famous romcom Maison Ikkoku, which ran parallel to Urusei Yatsura for most of the latter’s run. Like Ikkoku, Astro Note follows a down-on-his-luck young man living in a boarding house full of bizarre miscreants who only stays because the manager is super pretty. Unlike Ikkoku, and unbeknownst to our protagonist, said manager is actually an alien who is practically turning the house over to find a secret alien MacGuffin.

This show looks lovely and has a delightful cast and some surprisingly moving subplots, but it’s nothing too special otherwise. There are some fun creative flourishes here and there, like the alien stuff shown in flashback being made to look like an older space opera anime, but aside from a very fun turn near the end of the season, Astro Note rarely rises above the level of simply “pleasant.” And that’s fine, but it doesn’t quite live up to the material it’s aping, and what we’ve ended up with is just a nice distraction. 

I’m so glad I finally decided to read Maison Ikkoku though.

31. Shangri-La Frontier, second cour

It’s been a running joke for me that the more I watch Shangri-La Frontier, the less I’m sure whether I like it or not, and now with 25 episodes in the tank, I’m less sure than ever. The back half of the debut season improved on a few of the things that annoyed me about its first cour by focusing more on the high-quality action and introducing minor stakes to the proceedings, and then everything else surrounding it made it feel no less like I’m just watching a guy playing a goddamn video game, and the stakes still mostly seem to amount to "he wants to be good at it."

You may notice that I didn’t include the second season in this review, and that’s because I flat-out didn’t care to pick it back up. I’d been busy during the fall season and continuing a show I didn’t enjoy that much just wasn’t a high priority. It’s continuing into January, so there’s time to catch it while it airs, but I’m still not in any hurry.