#Next stream is likely to be on Tuesday!

[scarlettearrowrites]

Ma'am where's the link

Go have fun!

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

promo pics for la monnaie de munt’s new production of henry viii are out and a) they look good and b) they look like every single other production olivier py has ever directed

[amazingmrcinema007]

I love it when a film boutique label announces blu-ray releases of movies few people know about. I'm talking about the kind of films that are not even logged by a 1,000+ letterboxd users. They're the kind of films that need a second lease on life in physical media.

[kon-konk]

Y'all, look...

He's beautiful. He's gorgeous. He's here. He's moving.

Soon.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

tuesday in the park (a.d.)

pairing: divorced!art x reader

synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.

warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk

notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.

Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.

Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…

And then suddenly… another pattern.

A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.

You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.

It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!

But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.

You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?” 

“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.

“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”

“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”

The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”

“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile.  And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”

“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.

“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.

The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”

“Come on, Daddy…” 

“No way.”

“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,

“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”

The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too. 

“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”

He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.

He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”

You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.

He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”

It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.

He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”

You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.

(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)

“Thanks, um…” he trails off. 

You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.

He nods. “I’m Art.”

He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,

“Nice to meet you, Art.”

He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved. 

“So what brings you out here?”

“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”

“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”

He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”

And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”

You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”

“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”

The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an interpreter.”

His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”

“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.

“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”

“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”

“But not today?”

You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”

“Fuck.”

“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.

Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”

You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”

He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”

Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.

You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”

But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.

Oh.

You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”

Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”

There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…

“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered. 

If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.

“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”

“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”

The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.

Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”

“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.

“Oh! Um…”

And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”

Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter,  “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.

“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”

“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.

The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”

You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”

He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.

Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.

“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.

“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.

His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.

“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”

“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”

She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.

[manyothermusingsofmine]

reloading episode three of the walking dead game just to change the final choice and keep James alive very much feels like I broke into the afterlife to drag him back out by the ear going “You get back into the fucking story whether you like it or not I’m not dealing with a sequence of events where you’re dead!”

[nfr-girly]

Baking with Hasan // 🧁 🍰

Summary: Hasan invites you over for a baking stream

————————————————————————

-Hasan had the idea for a while to do a baking stream with one of his friends, he had already done one with QT so he wanted to do it with someone who chat wasn’t familiar with

-that’s when you came into mind, chat knew a little about you from seeing you in the background of some vlogs, but you’d never actually done a stream with Hasan before

-you and him met through Austin and have been really good friends since. Hasan was a little hesitant as he knows you’ve never actually been on stream before, so he wanted to ask you first before confirming anything

-he called you up and asked if you’d want to do a baking stream with him, which of course you said yes to

-Hasan didn’t know it but you had grown to like him as more than just a friend, on occasion you would think for a second that he might like you back, but every time you saw him with these gorgeous models you always give your hopes up

-LITTLE DID U KNOWWW… Hasan kinda likes you back <3 anyway 😋

-you guys call a few days before the stream to confirm times and everything, making sure you both have ingredients ready, you tell him you’re a little nervous about the stream and he reassures you that if you don’t want to do it, please tell him, but he makes sure you know he won’t let anyone be mean to you for even a second

-Hasan is so so serious about this too, he absolutely adores you and if he sees ANYONE be even the tiniest bit disrespectful to you trust he’ll be ready to throw hands

-a few days later you go over to his house and ring the bell, fidgeting with your hands and sorting out your hair

-Hasan hears the bell and all confidence drops. Kayas already at the door before he even comes out the kitchen. He sorts out his hair before opening the door.

-you look up and smile “hey! How are you”

-Hasan smiles back “I’m really good thanks. How are you? Was the journey okay?” Hasan lets you in and hangs up your coat for you, you kneel and pet Kaya as she hops into your lap

-one of Hasans favourite things is seeing you bond so well with Kaya, it’s partly why he likes you so much, you’re the only person who Kaya didn’t bark at when she first met you, it was like she had known you for years

-you two went into the kitchen and set up all your ingredients, talking a little about how you’ve both been

-“you know I’m actually gonna stomp all over you today; my cakes are superior” Hasan boasts

-“shut the fuck up you don’t know shit about baking”

-“yes I do!!” Hasan defends back

-the stream starts and for the next few hours the entirety of the stream consists of you and him blatantly flirting (trust there’s gonna be compilations on yt of you two)

-the whole chat can see through both of you and are so baffled at how blind you are to the other ones feelings

-eventually, you end the stream and start cleaning the kitchen, it takes you two about an hour due to the mess

-Hasan occasionally puts his hands on your waist as he moves past you

“thank you for coming over to do this, I mean really I appreciate it” Hasan tells you

“Of course no worries, it was fun we should do it again sometime”

Hasan pauses and thinks. Just ask her out already what are you doing?

“Hey listen I was just wondering- i don’t know, if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?”

You look at him as your breath catches in your throat

“Uh- yeah sure, is it just us or with some friends?” Please say just us

“Well I mean I was thinking just us. Unless you think that would be weird-“

“No- Hasan id love that” you smile at him as he nods, smiling himself

“Okay great, would Tuesday work for you?”

“I can check but it should be yeah!”

You two talk as he walks you to the door

“Okay then, well I’ll text you later about places we could go” Hasan says

“Okay then. It’s a date”

Hasan smiles quickly before you can see

He gives you a hug as you head to your car.

As soon as you drive away he smiles to himself and goes to find Kaya, who jumps up at him

“Hey pretty ladyy, she said yes didn’t she? Oh yes she did”

A ping can be heard from Hasans phone, he takes it out and reads it

You

Sooo where should we go? 💗

hasan types out a reply

Hasan

Anywhere you want princess.

————————————————————————

UGH THIS IS SO SHIT but I hope you liked it anyway 😘

🏷️ @mavericksice @thatsactuallyinzane @kaya-p @fullofgutsndopamine @inhibitionfreewriting @the-phantom-author @makeandshift @hot-insurrectionist @hasblair

[iateyourparents]

MORE JAKE PLS

Maybee like doing a stream with him in the car or filming a video where he takes us shopping and buys everything for us kinda like the vid where he ‘becomes’ johnnies ‘sugar daddy’ and we share a lil kiss hehehehe :3

sugar daddy | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: jake records a new video for his channel with you.

warnings: use of y/n, short, jake being little rich boy, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thankss love! i’m not sure if i’m content with how it turned out but i hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest :)

“Today I’m gonna be the hottest American sugar daddy once again!” Jake started his video “But today my sugar baby is my girl, y/n!” you waved to the camera “How do you feel?”

“Already spoiled.” you laughed.

“Yeah, cause he totally doesn’t buy you everything you want without camera too.” Johnnie snorts from behind the camera and you laugh at that too.

It’s true, Jakes loves to spoil you without any reason. It’s tuesday? Here’s earrings that you were looking at on Monday. You’re on your period? I ordered you those shoes that you said were pretty. You loved it about Jake but also it made you feel bad that you don’t buy him as many things as he buys for you, but like he always says, if he wasn’t supposed to spoil you then he wouldn’t have so much money.

“Everything for my baby.” Jake shrugged with wide smile “So where do you wanna go first?”

“Zara?” you offered and he nodded. Then he took your hand and started to lead you towards said shop while talking to the camera about how buying you pretty things, somehow makes him happy.

“Alright, any plans on what are we looking for?” Jake asked you.

“Yeah actually, I saw this pretty skirt on their website and I would like to try it on.” you said “Also, I saw the cutest sweater with little hearts.”

“Aww, let’s get it, I’m sure you will look great.” Jake stated and on your way to the sweaters area he took few things that he thought would look great on you. And well, he wasn’t wrong.

Your next stop was at hot topic where he bought you some things without even consulting it with you first but like he said, he wanted it to be a surprise for you.

Then you went to eat something and you were sure his fans would be making a kiss count in the comments with how many kisses he stole from you and how many pecks he left all over your face.

Few more stores and you were done recording. You had seven bags with things he bought you and you really felt bad for his wallet but he only waved his hand stating that it was a pleasure for him and he wouldn’t mind doing it again, but you obviously didn’t agree for that. He already bought you too many things and you weren’t sure if you ever would be able to pay him back for how much he spoiled you, both with material things and with love and kisses.

He was perfect.

So when next day he came back home, you surprised him with a dinner, dessert, few presents and much love.

“You know, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you.” He stated when you were cuddling in bed.

“You? I don’t know what I did so right that I got you.” you giggled.

“You’re just perfect.” his smile couldn’t be wider “I actually ordered you those cute heels with bows.”

“Jake…” you squinted your eyes at him “You’re insane, did you see how much they cost?”

“Yeah. But it’s just money. It will come back but you deserve it.” he kissed your forehead.

“You should cancel the order anyway.” you lightly slapped his chest.

“No way.”

And well, Jake wouldn’t be opposed spending all his money on you if you would pay him back like that.

[thephant0menace]

| Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley head cannons

Comfort

Warnings: strong language, crying, Wife!reader x Husband!Simon Riley, FLUFF🤭

Nothing was going right for you today…

Everything was just pissing you off and by the end of the day you just wanted to curl up in your bed and cry.

It was a rainy Tuesday night and you were a wandering around the kitchen, cleaning and sipping on some tea when your husband came home from work.

“Hey love…” he sighed as he slips his mask off his face. He was clearly tired from a long and rough day at the base.

You just grumbled out a quiet ‘hi’ as you finished wiping the kitchen bench down.

Simon scoffs, a little surprised at your grumpy answer.

“What the fucks up your ass tonight?” He smirks, walking over towards you with his arms out to hug you.

You just glare up at him angrily before storming off to your shared room.

Simon stands there confused and a little concerned. He’s never seen you so cold and angry towards him before.

Meanwhile you are laying, face down in your bed and sobbing.

You couldn’t handle the stress of the day anymore and you just snapped.

After a few minutes you hear the bedroom door creak open and a pair of heavy footsteps entering the room.

You feel the bed dip next to you and that’s when you lift your head.

You look up at Simon with tears streaming down your red and puffy cheeks.

He puts a hand on your back, his thumb gently rubbing small circles.

Part of him feels awkward and a little confused on what happened or what he did but the other half feels sympathy and a need to hold you and make you feel better.

Simon clears his throat, “do you, uh…want me to stay or go?” He asks a little unsure of what to do.

You pout your lips, attempting to hold back tears before choking out a broken ‘stay’ and reaching your arms out to hug him.

He pulls you onto his lap, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as you continue to sob.

His hands wrap around your waist, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“Rough day?” He asks softly.

You nod, whimpering softly.

“Me too, lovie…me too. Its okay…it’ll be okay.”

Your crying and whimpering slowly comes to a stop and you feel your body relax into your husbands arms as he places soft kisses on your head.

“M’sorry Simon,” you sniffle, looking up at him.

“No need to be sorry, sweetheart…we all have our days.” He whispers soothingly, gently brushing fallen strands of hair out of your face.

“What do ya say we relax in bed and watch a movie or somethin’? Maybe we can order food.” He gives you a playful smile.

The rest of your night was spent cuddled up to Simon, eating take out while watching the most cheesy roncoms you could find.

Moments like these were so precious to both you and Simon.

Just spending time together like a normal couple and enjoying each other’s presence.

A/N: SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED IN AGES!!! I’ve been so busy with dancing and school and work, and on top of that the 400 assignments I have due…but I had to make time to do things I enjoy like writing. So I hope you enjoyed this little scenario I came up with <3

[f1goat]

his masseur x lando norris

In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble.

Requested: yes Warnings: small mentions of sexual content / not proof read

Tuesday - August 2022

“Maybe you can sleep in my bed this time?” Lando asks you. 

You look up surprised. This is new.

“What’s wrong with the guest room?” You ask still surprised.

“Nothing!” Lando quickly exclaims, “but I’m tired but I also don’t want to stop cuddling like this. So I thought we could sleep together.. Maybe?” 

You notice that Lando is rambling now. You smile at him. “That sounds great,” you say with a genuine smile.

Lando leaves his earlier position to get of the couch. You think about what’s happening. Maybe it’s weird for friends to cuddle as much as you and Lando do. Maybe it’s even weirder that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as him. But it’s not like you mind. You have been crushing on Lando forever, so every little thing you can have you take willingly.

Thursday - November 2022

“Happy birthday Lan!”

You kiss him on his cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer to him so the two of you can hug properly. After a bit you release yourself from his hug so you can give him his present. You hand him over the present you carefully wrapped with an orange wrapping paper. You watch how Lando unties the golden ribbons. 

His face lits up when he sees the present. You smile as well from his happy reaction. It’s safe to say he loves the new microphone you got him. It’s themed with everything he likes. The Quadrant logo and colors are covering the stand part, while the mic itself is a bit more McLaren themed. 

“I thought you could use a new one for your streams,” you tell him. 

“You’re amazing!” Lando exclaims enthusiastic. He pulls you closer to himself again. It doesn’t take more then a few seconds before he’s hugging you once again. 

“I love it,” he tells you softly, “You know me the best!”

Sunday - December 2022

“Finally a well deserved break,” Lando says. 

You nod. “You were amazing this season,” you tell him. 

Lando smiles gratefully. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he tells you even more grateful. 

“Don’t say that,” you say quickly, “It was all you. I’m just massaging you.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando says, “so I might have a tiny surprise to thank you for that.”

“A tiny surprise?” You ask.

“I booked us a hotel here, so we can spend a week together. We can do some fun things! Like exploring the city and go buggy riding in the desert.”

“That’s not a tiny surprise,” you tell him while laughing.

“Oops,” Lando just says.

“Are you thanking everyone on your team like that?” You ask.

“I send the rest a nice thank you card,” Lando replies.

You laugh.

Sunday morning - January 2023

“I can’t wait to spend the whole year with you again,” Lando softly says. The clock just stroke midnight. Lando is sitting next to you on the couch. You’re with friends, but everyone is busy with wishing each other a happy new year. Something you should do as well, but you’re enjoying your small private moment with Lando. 

“Me too Lan,” you say, “and a happy new year to you!”

“Happy new year!” Lando replies happily.

He comes closer to you. You want to press a kiss to his cheek, like you always do with friends while wishing them a happy new year. Lando seems to have the same idea. You don’t know how it happend, but in some way Lando his lips end up on yours.

“Oh fuck,” you say.

It didn’t even last two seconds, but it feels like an eternity. 

“Sorry!” Lando quickly says.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, nothing happened. I’m going to wish the others a happy new year as well.”

Lando watches you when you walk away. He sighs. “Yeah, nothing happened. Just my feelings for you,” he mutters annoyed. 

Thursday night - February 2023

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando.

“It’s nothing, how was the date?” Lando asks you.

You sigh. “Since I texted you a few hours earlier then we discussed I think you can conclude that it was bad.”

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep going on dates with types like this?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t know either,” you sigh. You think about who you really want. The guy next to you who’s currently driving you home in his McLaren. Lando is silent, he’s thinking about how it shouldn’t feel this way. Every time he picks you up he’s happy that your date didn’t go well. He can’t be like this. His jealousy is rising up way too much recently.

“I think I’m going to stop dating for a while,” you tell Lando after a bit of silence, “Maybe I’m not ready yet,” you add.

Lando can’t stop himself from smiling. It’s insane how relieved he feels suddenly.

Friday night - March 2023

“Would it be weird if we kissed?”

You look up at Lando. Does he even know what he’s asking you right now? It’s not like you can blame him right now. He’s drunk. But still, you let out a small sigh when you think about his question. Yes it would be weird, but you wouldn’t care about that. 

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Lando continues.

Butterflies are all over the place inside of you. You don’t have to check the rear mirror in Lando his car to find out your cheeks are red. You feel flustered. You try to focus on driving, but Lando is making it hard for you. For the second time that evening you remind yourself about Lando his condition. He’s drunk. Carlos and Max texted you before to warn you and when you picked up Lando you quickly noticed it as well. You can’t take his words serious right now, he’s drunk. 

“You’re drunk Lan,” you tell him after doubting for a bit, “but yes, it probably would be weird. We have been friends forever.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind the weird aspect. You also don’t tell him about your feelings from the last years for him. 

“If you say so,” Lando sighs. 

You hope Lando doesn’t asks questions like this again. Or not like this. He can ask questions like this, but not when he’s drunk and his words are meaningless. 

Saturday morning - March 2023

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “That was just what I needed.” 

You release a bit off the harsh pressure you used earlier. Slowly you massage further. Since you graduated last year, you’ve become Lando his personal masseuse. You’ve been lucky when McLaren hired you for it. Since then you join Lando and his - and your - team to every race. Meaning you can spend a lot of time with Lando. 

“I thought so,” you tell Lando smilingly.

Lando lets out a soft moan. Something that can give you weird butterflies sometimes, but now you’re getting used to it. It’s just because your massaging him. 

“You seemed pretty drunk last night,” you add.

“Oh god,” Lando grunts, “Please don’t remind me. I have no memories left. Sorry that you needed to pick me up like that.” 

You let out a soft disappointed sigh. You already expected this, but still. It would be nice if Lando remembered what he told you last night. It’s nothing new. Things like this happen way too often. 

“It doesn’t matter Lan, that’s what friends do,” you tell him to comfort him.

“Hm, friends yeah,” Lando sighs. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Lando doesn’t really respond anymore. You put a bit more pressure on his abs while massaging him. While you do so you think about multiple weird situations you had with Lando. 

“Maybe we can have a night in tonight? After qualifying,” Lando suggests after a bit. “We can watch some movies or something, whatever you like,” he adds.

“I kinda planned a selfcare night,” you tell Lando, “but maybe we can combine it?” 

“I’m in,” Lando tells you happily. 

“Great!”

Saturday - April 2023

“Y/n, it’s time for my massage.”

You look up surprised. Lando is standing in front of you and Pierre. What is he talking about? You just massaged him earlier. You’re free for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s talk further another time,” Pierre tells you.

You just met him. He seemed nice. Maybe you can finally find some other friends on the grid as well? 

“That sounds great,” you tell Pierre excited. 

You almost start to think that Lando lets out a scoff, but you’re probably wrong. You walk closer to Lando and he takes you with him to his drivers room.

“I already massaged you Lan, what was that about?” You ask him confused.

“I just got a bit of pain in my shoulder,” Lando mutters.

“Okay, can you pull of your shirt?”

When Lando feels your hands on his painless shoulders, he feels happy again. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t see another way to get you away from Pierre and back to himself.

What’s going on with him?

Wednesday - May 2023

“I think I’m in love with y/n.”

“No shit,” Max sighs, “It took you forever to find out.”

Lando looks at his friend. Was he that transparant?

“So when will you tell her?” Max asks.

“Never!” Lando says quickly. He almost shouts. “What do you think that’ll happen? She doesn’t return my feelings, everything will become awkward and then I will lose her.”

“For fuck sake,” Max sighs, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Max, you have to keep this a secret,” Lando almost begs, “I can’t lose y/n.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

Saturday - June 2023

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Lando moans.

You slowly apply more pressure to his body. Your hands roam around Lando his necks and shoulders carefully. When you come closer to his neck, Lando can’t withhold another soft moan. You start to feel the well known butterflies flatter around in your body.

Lando doesn’t stop. He keeps letting out soft sounds that show you exactly what you’re doing to him. After a bit you notice that you’ll get an even bigger reaction when you massage him on a specific spot close to his neck. You can’t help yourself and don’t stop touching him there. Can it be his sweet spot? You wonder what will happen when you let your lips touch his neck right on that spot. Fuck, you shouldn’t think like this.

“Can you lie down on your back Lan?” You ask a bit later.

Lando shuffles a bit, but he doesn’t move to lie down on his back. You wonder what’s going on. 

“Lan?” You ask.

“Give me a few minutes,” Lando tells you. 

“Is something wrong? You need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or painful when I do something,” you say.

“No!” Lando quickly replies, “It’s far from wrong.”

You don’t get it at first, but then Lando lies down on his back. You notice the bulge that formed itself in his pants. Lando doesn’t look at you. Something that comes in quite handy right now, because you’re smile isn’t really professional anymore.

Sunday - July 2023

Lando his qualifying at Silverstone went amazing. He got the second place and that as his home race. This is amazing. Currently the two of you are laying on the couch. You’re feeling relaxed while spending time like this with Lando. 

“Maybe I can massage you a bit?” Lando suggests, “Reverse the roles  for once.”

“That seems nice.”

Lando helps you to find a comfortable position on his lap. His hands slowly find your shoulders. He’s quick to apply a bit of pressure on them. You let out a soft sigh of relaxation. It’s been way too long since someone massaged you. That’s the disadvantage of being a masseur, everyone always expects you to massage them and not the other way around. 

“How does this feel?” Lando asks you. 

It feels like his hands are touching you everywhere at once. You haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. He’s slowly massaging your neck and you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft moan. 

“Like you should do this more often,” you answer Lando jokingly.

You don’t tell him that you already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck. Why does he have to have such big, strong hands? That also feel insanely good on your body?

***

A few hours and a movie and some YouTube video’s later you’re still laying against Lando. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your hotel room. Lando plays with your hair while he focuses on the television in front of him. You can’t seem to focus anymore. Your mind keeps filling up with thoughts about Lando. 

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando tells you suddenly, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You’re the one who’s racing this good,” you reply. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says slowly, “but I couldn’t have done any of this without your support. It means the world to me that you’re always here.”

“There’s no place where I would be rather.”

“Promise me you’re in for a long time?” Lando asks you.

Without even thinking about it you stick out your pink. Lando is quick to wrap his own around yours.

“I promise Lan and if you join another team, I’ll do everything I can to join them as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere else if you can’t join me,” Lando says, “If they want me, they get you as well.”

You laugh. 

Sunday - July 2023

You haven’t seen Lando for a while now. The two of you are in some sort of night club with a lot of the other drivers. Earlier today Lando got his second place. His first podium of the season. He even drove a couple laps as race leader. Things were amazing. You haven’t been proud, excited and happy like this for a long time. It feels insanely good. That’s why the both of you wanted to celebrate. 

“Hi!”

You notice that Pierre Gasly is standing in front of you and just greeted you. 

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Pierre and you have know each other for a while now. You can say that you’re friends with each other, but not really close friends. During race weekends you’ll talk with each other, but that’s about it. Still, when you talk to each other it’s nice and comfortable. 

“In the mood to dance?” Pierre asks you. You’re quick to nod. Pierre gives you his hand and takes you with him towards the dance floor. 

When Lando searches for you, he’s surprised to find you on the dance floor. Until he sees with who you are. Fuck. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Why does Pierre always come close to you? Lando thinks about a way to get you away from Pierre, but he can’t figure out something right now.

“Congrats on the podium!” 

Without even realizing it, Lando is hugging with Yuki Tsunoda. He makes a bit of small talk with him, but Lando his eyes never leave you and Pierre. It annoys him that you’re still dancing with him. He needs to figure out a way to get you back to himself.

“Don’t you find them cute together?” Yuki asks him after a while.

Is Yuki talking about you and Pierre as well? Before Lando can say anything, Yuki continues talking.

“Pierre has been planning on taking her out for a while, maybe he’ll finally ask her now,” Yuki tells Lando. 

“He likes her?” Lando asks.

Yuki nods.

“Fuck, I knew it,” Lando mutters annoyed. 

Without a plan he walks towards you and Pierre. When he stands in front of you two, he’s quick to grab your arm. You are quick to look up. You’re surprised to see Lando in front of you. 

“We’re going back to the hotel,” Lando tells you quickly, not knowing any better excuse right now. 

“Why?” You ask surprised.

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. 

He notices the way your facial expressions change. He starts to feel like a terrible person when he sees your concerned face. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. 

“I’ll explain in the car,” Lando answers with the lack of a better answer.

“Wait, y/n, before you go, can I ask you something?” Pierre asks you.

Lando his grip on your arm firms. He pulls you with him softly. You look at him, still concerned about his well being. “I really want to go,” Lando tells you. He knows what’s coming next, Pierre is going to ask you out. Fuck. He needs to get you away. 

“Maybe you can text me it?” You suggest to Pierre, “Lando isn’t feeling well, so we’re leaving now.”

“I’ll just ask you later,” Pierre sighs.

When you’re sitting in Lando his car, you notice that the boy is looking a lot better already. His weird facial expressions from earlier are gone, he almost seems relieved now? Maybe he was overwhelmed with all the attention and loud music? 

“What was wrong?” You ask Lando. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, “uh, I uh, I had a.. a uh, a headache. But it’s already getting better now.”

***

“Sooo,” you let out. You have been waiting for a moment to ask Lando something and maybe now is your chance? 

“So?”

“Why don’t you like Pierre?” You ask him. 

Since you and Pierre have gotten a bit closer, you have noticed Lando his strange behavior against Pierre. He always tries to get you away from him with excuses (?) about more massages. Or he joins your conversation and makes things awkward. What seems on purpose sometimes. 

“You always try to get me away from him,” you add while waiting for Lando his reaction. 

Lando sighs. Maybe he should just tell you everything. But he doesn’t. 

“There’s nothing wrong with Pierre,” Lando replies.

Wednesday - July 2023

“Want to lunch together?” Lando asks you. 

“I’m sorry Lan, Pierre asked me to get lunch together earlier today,” you reply a bit disappointed. If Lando only asked you earlier…

“Oh allright, then I’ll see you later. Right?” Lando asks disappointed.

“Yeah, after lunch I’ll be back,” you reply. 

“Okay, have fun.”

Friday - July 2023

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lando asks you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask surprised. 

“It’s Friday!” Lando exclaims loudly, “we always have your self care night on Friday.” 

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. You totally forgot. Or better said, you didn’t know Lando saw it as a weekly thing. “Pierre asked me out for dinner tonight, I’m so sorry Lan,” you explain, “but I can cancel?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando sighs, “just have fun with Pierre.” 

***

Y/n: uh hi 

Y/n: can u pick me up?

Lando: where?

Y/n: *location*

Lando: where is that? Who lives there?

Y/n: Pierre

Lando: can’t he bring you home

Lando: you seem to be dating him

Lando: not me.

Y/N: please lan

Lando: Omw

***

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando when you step into his car. 

Lando is quick to notice your sad expression. He wonders what happened inside Pierre his house. When he sees a small tear rolling over your cheek, he knows for sure something happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks you. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sigh. 

“Babygirl,” Lando sighs, “What’s going on lately? We barely see each other and now I’m picking you up from Pierre’s while you’re all sad?” 

You let out a small sob. 

“I fucked things up,” you cry out. 

Lando increases his speed, he wants to get home as soon as possible so he can talk to you properly. He puts his free hand on your thigh and slowly draws some figures on it. When you use both of your hands to hold his, he can’t resist a small smile. 

When you’re inside Lando his home, you know Lando still wants answers. He deserves them as well. Together you sit down on his couch. You try to look at Lando, but you can only sob when you do. 

Pierre asked you to be his girlfriend tonight. You told him no. Of course you said no. You thought things between you two were just friendly. And there’s Lando. Maybe if Lando wasn’t here, you would have given Pierre a chance. But he’s here. He’s always on your mind. Even when you tried to forget about him, he’s always present in your thoughts. 

“What happened?” Lando asks you again. 

“I uh,” you stutter, “Pierre uh.. He, he asked me to be his uh.. his girlfriend.” 

“Then why are you crying? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Lando asks confused. His body is heating up. He can’t handle it if you’re officially Pierre’s. 

“I said no,” you state. This time the words come out a bit calmer. 

“Didn’t he accept that?” Lando questions.

You just nod your head this time. When you think back about Pierre his reaction, you shiver. 

“Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.

“Later,” you suggest. 

Lando opens his arms for you. It doesn’t take you long before you find your comfortable spot back. You lean on his chest. You’ve missed this. 

“I’ve missed you,” you sob.

“I never left,” Lando states, “I just gave you some space with Pierre.” 

“I don’t want space,” you sigh. 

“What do you want?” Lando asks you confused, “I thought you wanted to date Pierre, so it seemed logical to give you a bit of space while figuring things out with him.”

You don’t think about your answer.

“I want you,” you state. 

When the words leave your mouth, you realize the impact of them. Fuck. What did you just do? This is going to be the moment that you’ll lose Lando. You already feel him straighten up, sitting more straight then before. Slowly you seat yourself different as well. Lando looks in your eyes and you can’t look away. 

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” Lando replies.

“I can’t unsay it I guess,” you sigh, “This is just great. I fucked up something even more important now.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lando comforts you, “but you need to explain what happened and what you mean.” 

You sigh again. 

“I told Pierre I didn’t want to date him, I thought our ‘dates’ were friendly. Then he got mad. He started to talk about all the money he spend on me,” you explain slowly, “I told him I could pay him back, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I lost a friend.” 

“And then I started thinking about you. How I blew you off multiple times because Pierre asked me to do something, I was afraid that I lost you as well.” 

“Pierre’s a dick,” Lando scoffs, “and you can’t lose me. No matter how hard you’ll try, you can’t lose me.”

You let out a couple sobs. Lando pulls you closer to himself again. 

“What do you mean with wanting me?” He asks you.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh, “I’ve been in love with you for like forever.” 

Lando doesn’t know what he just heard. He asks you again. And again. You keep telling him the truth. 

“Fuck,” he says after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I knew telling you was a mistake. Please stay my friend.” 

“Max was right,” Lando says.

You look at him, confused by the deeper meaning behind his words.

“I should have told you,” Lando continues, “Then all of this would never have happened.” 

“Told me what?” You ask confused.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando confesses, “I’ve been for the longest time. That’s why I didn’t like all of your dates, including Pierre.”

Saturday - August 2023

“It always turns me on when you massage me,” Lando confesses. 

You laugh softly. 

“Remember than one time you massaged me?” You ask Lando. He’s quick to nod. “We both have that problem.” 

“Maybe I can massage you again tonight?” Lando suggests. 

“That sounds amazing.”

[wolvietxt]

Hey!! Congratulations on hitting this milestone!!🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Can I get Logan Howlett with Prompt #9 from the Age Gap Prompt List? Thank you so much!

LOGAN leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes flickered over to you. you were moving around the room, humming something under your breath while folding a stack of freshly washed clothes. the sunlight streaming through the window caught on the soft fabric of your outfit - one that, honestly, was a little too distracting for its own good. the curve of your hips, the way the material clung in all the right places - it wasn’t fair, really.  

he wasn’t one to stare - or at least, he tried not to. but damn, you weren’t making it easy. his gaze lingered, dragging slowly from the neckline of your shirt to the subtle dip of your waist before catching on the bare skin peeking out when you stretched to grab something off the top shelf.  

“you’re gonna burn a hole through the wall at this rate,” you teased, twisting around to look at him, your eyebrow quirking in amusement.  

logan didn’t even bother looking sheepish. instead, his smirk widened, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “i may be older, but i’m definitely not blind.”  

heat crawled up your neck and bloomed across your cheeks, but you rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off with a laugh. “smooth, old man.”  

“smooth enough.” he stepped into the room, his boots heavy against the floor, and leaned on the edge of the table you were working at.  

you didn’t miss the way his gaze dipped briefly again before meeting yours, and that smirk - that infuriating, knowing smirk - was still firmly in place. “you got somewhere fancy to be? or is this just how you torture me on a regular tuesday?”  

“torture you?” you repeated, feigning innocence as you grabbed the next shirt to fold. “i think you’re projecting a little, lo.”  

“yeah? i’ll let you think that.” his voice was low, a little rough, and it sent a shiver down your spine.  

he reached over, snagging one of the shirts you’d just folded and tossing it back into the pile.  

“logan!” you smacked his arm, but he didn’t budge, just chuckled under his breath.  

“what?” his grin was downright smug now. “thought i’d give you somethin’ to do, since you seem so busy.”  

you narrowed your eyes at him, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you, twitching up in a reluctant smile. “if you’re just gonna mess up all my work, maybe you should leave.”  

“nah, i like the view in here.”  

that did it. your hands froze mid-fold, and you turned to stare at him, fully flustered now. logan didn’t look the least bit sorry. in fact, he looked like he was having the time of his life.  

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, turning back to the laundry.  

“maybe,” he said, and this time, his voice softened. “but i’m not wrong.”  

you tried to hide the way your hands trembled slightly as you folded another shirt, but logan’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. he moved closer, his fingers brushing yours lightly as he reached to take the shirt from your hands.  

“you really don’t gotta try so hard, you know,” he said, his tone quieter now, less teasing. “i already think you’re somethin’ else.”  

your heart stuttered in your chest, and you glanced up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his expression.  

“logan…”  

“what?” his lips quirked, but there was a softness in his gaze that made your pulse quicken. “just tellin’ the truth.”  

you huffed a breath, trying to suppress the warmth spreading through your chest. “you’re impossible.”  

“maybe,” he grinned, stepping back to give you space - not that it helped much, considering the effect he had just by being in the room.  

you shook your head, trying and failing to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”  

“damn right.”  

he leaned back against the table again, watching as you tried to refocus on your task. his smirk was still there, but it had softened slightly, his eyes warm and amused as he took in the way your cheeks stayed flushed.  

logan didn’t say anything else after that, just stayed close, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. but every now and then, you’d catch him glancing your way, and every time, that smirk would return like he couldn’t help himself.  

and honestly? you didn’t mind. 

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[wethotcrazy]

LET'S PLAY A FEW

pairing: Zhou Guanyu x Streamer! Reader

word count:

i have been cooking this up in my brain for so long now, like it has been weeks that i've been meaning to writea guanyu fanfic and now here it is yippie also i wrote this because guanyu is very dear to me and i am just gutted that he wont be racing next year

The stream was alive with the low hum of background music and the click-clack of Y/N’s keyboard. Her Tuesday night streams were a familiar routine for her viewers—three hours of CSGO, now smoothly transitioning into Valorant. She’d solo queued, half-focused on the game, half-focused on her chat. It was a relaxed vibe tonight, her soft voice filling the gaps as she responded to questions.

“Y/N, who’s your favorite agent?” one viewer asked.

“Hmm, depends on the day,” Y/N mused, squinting at the game. “But I’m leaning toward Jett lately. Fast, flashy… plus, I’m a sucker for knives.” Her words were accompanied by the sharp sound of her clicking through weapons.

Her team switched to defense. She’d been holding B site alone and wasn’t too concerned. “It’s always quiet until it’s not,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she scanned the entry points.

And then it wasn’t quiet.

The enemy team pushed hard—four, no, five enemies storming the site. Y/N’s demeanor shifted instantly. She stopped talking mid-sentence, leaning forward, her entire focus honed in. Chat knew what was happening. They’d seen this mode before.

One.

Two.

Three clean headshots in rapid succession. Her chat erupted.

“SHE’S COOKING,” someone spammed.

“Demon time activated,” wrote another.

Four down, one left. Y/N’s crosshair tracked, and with one swift flick—the fifth player dropped.

“ACE!” Chat’s excitement exploded, emotes and all-caps filling the screen.

“Nice ace,” a voice said, calm and steady. Y/N’s body went rigid as a soft kiss landed on the crown of her head. Her breath caught in her chest.

Slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it, she turned her head to see Zhou Guanyu standing there, his face calm as ever, hands in his sweatpants pockets. His eyes met hers with an easy grin, one he’d worn countless times but somehow always made her heart stutter.

“Are you solo queuing right now? Want me to hop on?” he asked like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but it took her a moment to find the words. The situation wasn’t particularly funny, but a wave of giddy laughter poured out of her—that helpless, uncontrollable kind.

“I’m… I’m streaming right now, Bǎobǎo,” she said through breaths of laughter, wiping at her eyes.

Guanyu’s eyes flickered toward her monitor, realizing what had just happened. His gaze shifted to the camera. “Oh. Hi, chat,” he said with a casual wave like it was any other Tuesday night.

Pandemonium.

Chat’s messages scrolled too fast for Y/N to read. Everyone was freaking out. The calm, private nature of their relationship had only left the fans guessing. Speculation had been rampant, but this? This was confirmation.

“NO WAY THAT’S GUANYU.”

“WTF OKAY BOYFRIEND REVEAL.”

“Bǎobǎo?????????”

Y/N’s face was red as she tried to focus on the chat. “Alright, alright, calm down,” she said, fanning herself dramatically. She glanced up at Guanyu, still grinning like a fool. “You’re unbelievable.”

Guanyu’s only response was to tilt his head, his grin never wavering. “You’re the one who’s blushing,” he teased before walking off toward the kitchen.

Three years earlier, Guanyu had been just another viewer in Y/N’s chat—a regular with a verified checkmark that made him stand out. People recognized his name, but Y/N didn’t at first.

“Zhou Guanyu…” she read aloud, squinting at the name in her chat. “That’s… a Formula 1 driver, right? Chat, you’re messing with me.”

“No, it’s actually him!” chat exploded.

Sure enough, he’d donated with a message: “Big fan of your streams. If you’re ever down for games, I’m in.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “No way that’s real,” she muttered, half-laughing. But over the next few weeks, his presence became a regular occurrence. Guanyu’s name appeared in her chat, his playful comments lighting up the screen.

Then one day, he sent a Discord invite.

“Let’s play a few,” his message read.

He wasn’t what she expected. His sense of humor was sharp but subtle. He wasn’t loud, but he was confident. Their first few games were filled with banter and easy laughter. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just "streamer and viewer" and became… more.

Soon, he’d hop into her streams without warning. His voice was instantly recognizable. Their interactions sparked thousands of clips on Twitch. Fans flooded her social media with theories. “Are they together?” became the constant question. They never confirmed or denied it, and after a while, the frenzy died down.

But when Guanyu’s race schedule allowed, he’d appear on her stream. Sometimes he’d just be a voice in the background, sometimes he’d play with her on-stream, and sometimes, like today, he’d forget she was streaming entirely.

Back in the present, Y/N’s chat was still in shambles. Guanyu’s sudden appearance had sent them into a spiral, and Y/N’s notifications were pinging nonstop. She’d read a few messages aloud, fighting the urge to laugh all over again.

“‘Tell him to come back’… No, he’s probably playing with Sweet Corn right now,” she joked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Does he call you Bǎobǎo?’” she read, the grin on her face growing wider. “Yeah, yeah, he does that sometimes. It’s…” She trailed off, her cheeks burning again. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, Guanyu wandered back in with a bowl of fruit in hand, offering her a piece of mango. She took it with a raised brow. “You’re a menace, you know that?” she said, still half-laughing.

“Mmm,” Guanyu hummed in response, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. “You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” she said softly, her voice quieter this time, almost just for him.

Chat caught every word.

[noellefan101]

Hello hello! I love reading your Streamer AU for the HSR cast, can I request you to do a part 2 for it hehe 🤩

You can pick whoever you like but can I request one of them to be Fu Xuan? The thought of her streaming is kinda funny HEJISEHWJSHEHEH

Also thank you so much!! You may refer to me as - - Anon 🏎️

ofc im so sorry that im a few months late though 😭

Char: Fu Xuan, Topaz, Aventurine the gambler, Blade x gn reader

warnings: ooc, not proofread, swearing, you are pretty :3

Summary: your princess(or partner if you wanna be boring) is a streamer, a popular one at that. this is a fic about: how their chat finds out that you are dating, how they treat you off-stream and on-stream/do they treat you differently

Fu Xuan

How chat found out: it should be pretty easy for anyone to find out if im going to be completely honest. as she is both a bragger and a complainer.

if you had done something, anything, that she didnt like or just thought was stupid, she was going to lovingly complain about it to her following. and yes, this also applies to everything and everything you accomplish.

so uhm, lets just say she also sees no reason to keep such things a secret unless you begged her to not mention your relationship(she would still end up talking abt it at some point).

but luckily her chatters are nice and like you. but they definitely how Fu Xuan pulled you, they do not see the vision of how she did that

On-Stream: she herself does not see any difference in how she treats you whether she is streaming or not. her viewers however, very much see a difference to when you are with her or not

"Fu Xuan seems nicer with [name] around", "Xuan's eyes seems to light up just a little whenever [name] is around", this was not known to her until her following started chatting about this online

her face was unusually red when she read a message about her being soft for you on stream

Off-Stream: she, kissed you more, maybe even more affectionate in general, since she just doesnt like her whole life being online and thinks its unhealthy and dumb.

she is also just way too into you for her to want to share you with the random people watching her on a tuesday afternoon.

Topaz

How chat found out: you forgot she was streaming and brought in a snack for her and numby

and you accidentally called her 'love' while walking in

oh she was so red, and it did not help that she was on a call with aventurine and he heard everything

On-Stream: honestly, couldn't care less about what her following thinks, although she does get embarrassed.

she will hug you she will kiss you.

she will do whatever she wants to do, but is extra shy when Jade is around and watching.

and despite what she say and does, if you ever kissed her infront of the camera she would combust and melt into a little puddle

while numby is just innocently eating her little meal beside you two

Off-Stream: doesnt let go of you unless she actually has to get up and do something without you

loves hugging you, and especially with numby cuddling up with you both

kisses you more and it feels like you're kissing for longer, but this is just your observations

Aventurine

How chat found out: are you kidding? you really dont know? he doesnt stop fucking talking about you

he's playing another gacha game? oh this character kind of looks like [name], i should totally get them

irl stream? he's getting distracted left and right because he saw something that you would like

just on a call with his friends? talking about how pretty you are left and right

he just doesnt stop, there was no way you weren't going to appear on camera at some point

On-Stream: kisses you a lot just for just existing

chat thought it was cute in the start but now its more like when does he stop omfg

hugs you a lot and makes you sit on his lap while he gambles, saying that you bring him more luck

will still not stop bragging about how amazing you are, even when you're just sitting next to him on your phone

Off-Stream: still does not shut up about you, and is still very affectionate

but he is a little more touchy when people arent watching, still wanting you for himself in one way or another

he likes showing you off, but he also values his private life when he isnt the popular streamer Aventurine, being watched by thousands of people

but with you, and only you? he is just Kakavasha

Blade

How chat found out: one word, Kafka.

this is the only possible way other than you yourself walking in to see him streaming and you happen to be on camera.

Kafka, Silver Wolf, and Firefly is the only reason his following knows that he even has a love life to begin with. they talk more about you than he does! betrayer!!

but seriously, Kafka loves to talk about you two to her own viewers as well, even getting Blade to correct her because you can bake, and is very good at it

On-Stream: he doesnt talk about you, this may seem concerning but i assure you he's just shy. if he talked about you on stream it was because they girls made him talk about you.

but he just likes his private life, alright? he also strictly told Kafka to not tell them anything bad about or her head will be on a platter

but no matter, you can go kiss him yourself if you want to, he cant do anything to you

or he will die mentally and hopefully physically

Off-Stream:

absolute bbg

will not let go of you at all, never ever

he's always touching in some way or form the whole day, but when he turns on the camera and starts streaming its like his personality turned around

the only thing remaining is how he longingly looks in your direction whenever you come in with some water

thank u for reading and thank you 🏎️ anon for requesting even tho this was long ago(im still very sorry abt that)- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Favorite Place

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Your family sucks, and Frank is there to pick up the pieces.

warnings: non-specific descriptions of difficult family, swearing, Frank being a sweetheart

a/n: I’m basing this off of my daydream from Saturday, my exhausting week, and the amazing song “Favorite Place” by Humbear. Some sweet Frankie feels for you all. 

w/c: 2.5k

“From the day I met you, you’ve been mine. Loving you is my favorite place to be.”

The denim of his jeans chafed against the pad of his finger as it tapped over the fabric aimlessly. He was restless. Waiting impatiently as the current of people ebbed and flowed through the cavernous hallways. An endless stream of weary travelers, not a glimpse of you among them.

You’d told him to stay home. That your flight was late and it wasn’t worth the loss of sleep. That you could catch a cab back to your place. That you were fine on your own. And while Frank would rather swallow rusty nails than leave you to fend for yourself in the JFK airport on a good day, he was damned sure you’d need him when that plane landed after this week.

He’d asked to come with you. Gotten closer to begging than he’d come in years. But you’d smiled a bit sadly, shaking your head while you told him it was too much trouble. He had things he needed to do this week in New York. You would never demand that he drop all of that and accompany you to a party full of people that neither of you knew, who expected you to wait on them hand and foot as if you were hosting the thing, who would make comments intended to sting while they smiled innocently and pretended not to know better.

It was torture. Watching you jump through the same hoops, trying your best to please your family when you both knew it was impossible. You’d made great strides in self-advocacy since you’d met Frank, distancing yourself from them and standing your ground, but your sister’s engagement party was different. He could see it in your eyes: you needed to be there for her. And, because of his shit luck, he couldn’t be at your side as you waded through the pain.

He loved your kind heart. But that meant it hurt all the more to watch it get broken by the assholes who raised you.

Which is how he found himself next to the towering wall of windows on the arrival side of JFK at all hours on a random Tuesday. Silently hoping that it had gone miraculously well. That you hadn’t been desperately wishing he’d been your back up because going to the damn thing stag made it harder to cope with their games. That you’d felt loved and appreciated, like you deserved.

The pit of doubt in his gut fluttered at the idea. Mocking him as his mind wandered down the least-likely path.

Craning his neck around the corner, Frank’s eyes flicked between the nearest TV screen and the flow of people tumbling out of your designated gate. Your flight was on time, he’d been tracking it all day. The time on the screen read 3:26 a.m. Twenty minutes post landing.

“C’mon doll.” He muttered under his breath, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he grew increasingly restless. “Where are you?”

He held his breath, finger still hammering across the rough fabric covering his thigh, until finally—FINALLY—he spotted the top of your head.

Bobbing slowly out of the doorway and through the maze of connected stanchions towards the exit, your crown inched closer and closer to him, still shrouded in a sea of other passengers. As the herd began to disperse, they revealed you.

Your posture was hunched, and even from his distance he could tell you were a bit haggard. You rubbed a fist against your left eye, wearily stumbling forward, completely oblivious of your audience. Frank straightened up, hands instinctively sliding into his pockets to make himself look approachable, not wanting to startle you as he gingerly stepped into your path.

Your chin tipped up, face still slack with fatigue, but after a moment your eyes flashed with recognition. Hobbling forward a bit faster under the weight of your backpack, you met Frank halfway—his footsteps lengthening as the urge to sweep you into a hug overpowered him. When he was within reach, your arms unlatched from your sides, stretching towards his hips feebly as your face crumpled.

In one swift motion, he had you safely encircled by his arms, barely needing any strength to tug you both out of the flow of traffic so you could have a moment to process. Tucking you against his body, his hands slid under the straps of your bag, gently removing it from around your shoulders and setting it on the ground to lean against his calf. Once the literal burden had been lifted, he splayed a palm over your upper back, rubbing back and forth as your breaths became shallow.

“You’re here.” You murmured, your voice cracking with immense relief and gratitude.

“Course I am, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Cabs ain't cheap these days. Makes more sense this way.”

You undoubtedly saw through his attempt to pretend he hadn’t worried about you every minute you were gone, but you didn’t call him out. Instead, you shuddered beneath his touch, a watery mumble tickling his chest. “Thank you.”

“Anythin’ for you, honey.” He promised, cradling your head as you pulled away from him slightly. Your hips were still parallel, your fragile form secured in his hold, but you tilted your face to meet his. His heart clenched painfully as he took in the shadows beneath your glassy eyes. “How was the trip?”

If he wasn’t already damn sure you were overwhelmed, the clouding of tears in your eyes would’ve signaled your condition. You weren’t one to cry in front of strangers—it had taken him months to reassure you that it was alright to cry in front of him in the safety of your own apartment. If you were so easily brought to tears in public, you’d had a beyond terrible week.

“Oh, honey,” Frank whispered, his own eyes prickling in sympathy as you dove back into his chest. “You’re alright darlin'. I gotcha. You’re back home now.”

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled, your words muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t mean to..I’m sorry.”

Frank's chest squeezed uncomfortably as your voice shrunk with the apology. He felt a flash of anger deep in his stomach as he registered the fear in your words. What had those bastards done to you? “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart. It’s why I came.”

“I’m so tired, Frank.” You whimpered, heaving in an indelicate breath in an attempt to regain your quickly fleeting composure.

Shushing you softly, Frank clasped you as close to his chest as he could before his grip went lax. With the tip of his thumb, he brushed away the lines of tears over your pretty face, his brow kneading together with concentration. “I betcha are, doll. It’s late. Let’s get you home and in bed, yah?”

More tears began to slip over your cheeks as you nodded miserably. Bending your knees, your body tilted as a trembling hand shot out for the handle of your carry on. Huffing a laugh, Frank snatched the bag up, throwing it over his own shoulder with a shake of his head. “I got it, honey. You just focus on you right now.”

Your bottom lip jutted out as your eyes overflowed with tears of appreciation. “I love you.”

His heart swelled with affection. Planting a firm kiss to your forehead, he let your faces rest together for a beat. “I love you too. Whatcha say, you ready to get outta this hellhole?”

His joke had the intended effect. You chuckled weakly, nodding and leaning into his side so he could lead you out of the building. Though you were more than capable of handling yourself, Frank couldn’t help but become more confident in his decision to ignore your excuses and meet you at the gate as the two of you roamed the airport. You were bleary eyed, clutching his hand meekly and stifling yawns as he found the path to freedom—clearly more than willing to let someone else take the reins for a bit. Frank trusted you to navigate, that was never the issue. He was just happy he could take something else off your poor shoulders on the trek home.

It took far too long to escape the airport, hail a taxi, schlep through the endless traffic of the city streets, and usher you up the steps of your building and into your apartment. But you both made it. Eventually.

Your place was tidy and dark—the outcome of a deliberate effort on your part to take care of all the housework prior to your departure. At least your former self had thought ahead, making sure your exhausted future form wouldn’t also have a pile of dishes to attend to. Once you’d stepped across the threshold into your cozy home, your posture collapsed. You grew impossibly small, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth as you scrubbed a hand over your face.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed, hm?” Frank’s hand grazed your lower back as he encouraged you forward towards your cramped bathroom. A wave of fondness blossomed in his gut as you sleepily nodded, shuffling forward towards the edge of the sink. You flicked the lights on, flinching briefly at the burst of white light from above the mirror. As you cranked the faucet on, Frank tangled his fingers with yours, twisting them carefully away from the basin.

Tsking softly, Frank lowered the lid of the toilet with his free hand, nodding to the porcelain seat when you looked at him quizzically. “I got it. Sit your sweet ass down for a minute.”

You snorted a laugh, but didn't protest. Frank gave you a once over as you began to lounge, satisfied as your posture unraveled with a tinge of relief. He squeezed your fingers, bending to press a kiss to your knuckles before dropping your hand to retrieve a washcloth from the linen closet.

The stream of water began to steam against the cool ceramic of the sink. Dipping the cotton towel beneath the water, Frank wrung out the escess moisture before bringing it to your face. With two calloused fingers, he tilted your head up, a tiny smile curving his lips when your eyes closed instinctively.

You were so vulnerable like this. Tired and emotional, baring your pristine neck to him in a massive display of trust. He regularly questioned your relationship for this very reason. After everything he'd done, dousing his hands in the blood of dozens of men, you still trusted him innately. You felt safe with him. You loved him. Whether or not he thought he deserved it.

You were his constant. And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to make you feel loved right back.

Swiping the warm cloth over your face as tenderly as he could, Frank carefully lifted your chin, positioning it at different angles so he could wipe your face clean of the grime that always seemed to accompany travel. Cupping your cheek, he stroked a thumb beneath your eye as a droplet fell, feeling parallel agony as your brow pinched in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

“Let it out, sweet girl. It's just me.” He whispered, free hand refreshing the washcloth with a new rush of water.

A sob burst out of you, rocking you forward in his hold. The pained sound echoed off the tile in the room, closing in on the two of you as you bit your lip to stop another gasping cry. Scrunching your eyes ferociously, you shook your head, your chest beginning to tremble with effort as you held everything in.

Kneeling in front of you, Frank tossed the washcloth over his shoulder, not giving a single shit that the dampness began to transfer to his clothes. Cupping your face gently, he brushed away stray tears and murmured your name in an attempt to compel your eyes back open. “Stop holding it in, sweetheart. That ain't helpin' anyone.”

“It-It's stupid.” You choked out, lashes fluttering as your eyes opened again, gaze downcast with shame.

“Don't say that, darlin'.” Frank chastised, his words lacking any heat. “It ain't--”

“It is!” You objected, your voice tearing over the statement. “I do this every fucking time, Frank. I think it'll be better, I expect them to be mature or whatever and when they aren't I let it get to me. And then you're stuck with this..this mess,” You gestured to your puffy, shining face, looking at him miserably. “And you have to take care of me because I'm too fucking weak to stand up for myself or just leave.”

“Stop that.” Keeping his voice low, he allowed it to sound a bit more firm, not appreciating the way your brain was misdirecting all the blame to your own beautiful conscience. “You're not weak.”

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head to stare at the wall. He called your name softly. “You're not weak, darlin'. Say it back to me.”

Your lips pressed together in a tight line, your aggravatingly endearing stubborn side making an appearance. Drawing a curved line over one cheek bone, Frank raised an eyebrow at you expectantly and you deflated. “I'm not weak.” You mumbled, tone conveying your skepticism.

“You're kind, and thoughtful, and determined.” Frank explained, eyes boring into yours, searching for the doubt you definitely held. “And, while they don't deserve you, I understand why you care so much, honey. They're your family. It don't matter that their assholes, you're gonna love 'em anyway.”

Nodding in agreement, your bottom lip quivered. “That's stupid.”

Frank chuckled, tugging your face into his neck so he could scratch the back of your head. “Maybe. But it's how it is, ain't it?“

He took your silence as confirmation.

”I ain't sayin' it's fair, darlin'. The guy upstairs is a special kind of evil for putting my girl through all this when she cares so much about everyone else.“ You burrowed further into Frank's neck with a small whine, not sure how to handle the praise. ”Your heart's just too big, honey. It's easier for them to get under your skin.“

”Too easy.“ You groused, lips tickling the junction between his throat and shoulder.

“That's ok, sweetheart. Because I'll always be here. Anytime you need me to hold ya, or to put someone in their place. Just say the word.” He vowed.

“Thank you,” You exhaled, mewling in appreciation as he draped the washcloth over your nape.

Twisting to kiss your forehead, he pulled you fully into his lap on the bathroom floor. “Always, babygirl. Now let me finish cleaning you up and we can lie in bed while you tell me all about it.”

He couldn't fix your family, no matter how much he wished he could. But he fully intended to remind you that he always had your back when things got tough.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @pone21 @ignore-mp3 @screechingphantommaker @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paradox-brody-chase

[idesofrevolution]

Sweat and Polyester

Siyu Jiang was in love. After moving to the United States from Guangzhou to get his degree in Software Engineering, it was a hard pill to swallow that he was less than stellar at mingling with his peers. Guangzhou was a mega city, easy for him to blend in and mind his own business, busy enough for him to get a contact-high of sorts to feed his need for socialization. New Orleans on the other hand, while not a small town per se, felt tiny and almost claustrophobic to him. Everyone knew eachother, and everyone took the time to chat, go out, have a drink or a blunt, 'fraternize' if you catch my drift... and Siyu quietly observed from a distance, watching the world bustle by.

That is, until he saw Eduardo. In China, he had never felt attracted to men. Perhaps it was the somewhat hostile environment for queer folks, or perhaps it was New Orleans' more laissez-faire attitude about stuff like that, but when the new semester started and he walked into that chemistry class, it was like fireworks erupted from his eyes. Eduardo was on the basketball team, pretty great at it too. He was tall, he was fit, he had those big brown eyes that made Siyu see sideways. When he plopped down in his seat next to Siyu, still in the gym clothes he'd worn to practice an hour or so before and wafting the subtle scent of salty musk from his tattooed body, their eyes met for the first time. A simple smile and a gentle introduction made Siyu's heart flutter, he was laid back and spoke effortlessly with a relaxed and friendly demeanor. Over the first two weeks or so sitting next to him, Eduardo had really helped Siyu feel less alone and less isolated, simply by being kind and taking the time to strike up a conversation with him.

It wasn't long before Siyu was beneath the bleachers in the basketball court, watching a sweaty, jovial Eduardo shoot hoops and practice with the team. It was no secret around campus that Eduardo was bisexual, having streams of girls as well as several teammates going in and out of his dorm room all the time. As mentioned before, the people around there talk, and from what Siyu had overhead, he was a giver and one of the best beds in town. This only added fuel to his fire, as his obsessive love for this sweet, oblivious jock boy grew stronger with each whisper of his name and bounce of the orange ball.

Thus it came to be on that Tuesday evening on a cold November night that Siyu decided to make Eduardo love him. Though, there was a problem. Outside of the obvious signs: him being on the basketball team, him fucking anything that moved, him always have the subtle whiff of reefer about him, and some of the company he'd keep, Siyu really knew nothing of Eduardo's interests. Worse even, the ones he did know about were far outside of his own. Siyu was simply too different of a person to snag his crush's attention. Thus, he focused on who did catch his eye.

Enter Ethan Lafferty. Ethan was everything Siyu wasn't: muscular, tall (even more than the 6'2 Eduardo), confident, cocky even. He was point guard on the team, and Eduardo's best friend. The two couldn't have been more different. Eduardo was sweet, kind, relaxed, a flirt, everyone's favorite guy. Ethan on the other hand, was brash, loud, dumb as a box of rocks, stank of a locker room at high noon, and spent most of his time either banging the entire cheerleading squad on a livestream or downing bottles of Jameson and snorting mountains of cocaine at some hole in the wall bar in the French Quarter. Despite their completely polar personalities, the two were nearly inseparable. It always came off as peculiar that such a stereotypical straight alpha dude bro would be best friends with a queer guy, even if they were teammates.

Siyu began to frequent the duo's hoop sessions, masked in darkness beneath the cavernous space beneath the seats, taking notes on his phone of what he could observe. In his mind, he saw himself as a horny, gay Jane Goodall: observing the hot boys in their natural habitat, and how they interact. Their relationship became clearer over time. Eduardo would be the first to arrive, sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone until Ethan would burst through the gymnasium door, holding his smelly red shoes and making a loud fuss about whatever girl he'd 'bedded' the night before. The two would sit on the bench, side by side, laughing at Ethan's shitty and demeaning jokes while he threw his arm around Eduardo's neck and ruffled his hair. Even from the clandestine cave he'd hidden away in, he could see Eduardo blush just at Ethan's touch. It was beyond him what a brute like Ethan brought to the table, but Siyu realized whatever it was, Eduardo was into it. If being like that mouthbreathing, smelly dumbass was what would make Eduardo love him, then so be it.

He started to wear a gold chain and earrings, just like Ethan. Sure, the earring was a clip on, and the necklace was cheap plate, but Eduardo quickly complimented him once he'd noticed a few days into it. He started to wear athletic shirts and shorts, some that he'd stolen from the dormitory laundry bin of course, but he'd hoped the effect would sink in. Eduardo didn't take as much of a notice of this, and thus began the diminishing returns of Siyu's efforts. He stopped wearing deodorant, thinking his own pheromones would compete, which they didn't. Not even an acknowledgement. He sketched marker tattoos on his arm, saying he was trying out designs to see what worked. He received a raised eyebrow and silence. The more he tried desperately to impress Eduardo, the less and less it seemed to make a difference. Frankly, he noticed Eduardo pulling away. Their nice little chats before lecture started to disappear, the friendly knuckle bump he would get as they ran into each other in the quad quickly followed suit. The more he tried to be Ethan, telling oddly misogynistic jokes and sipping whiskey from his water bottle in class... the more Eduardo wanted nothing to do with him.

It made no sense to him. He was doing everything right. When Ethan did it on the court, or in the dining hall, or in the library, or even in his dorm room as Siyu had his ear pressed against the door; Eduardo ate it up, his big brown eyes looked at him like he was the most lovely creature on earth. When Siyu tried it, it was met with an awkward glance and a miserable nod. He was losing him. All the work was for naught. It was time to take drastic measures.

Siyu searched high and low through every academic paper he could find in that library to find a way to make someone love him. When that came up with dead ends, he searched how to change your personality, which supplied an equal amount of nothing. Psychology, philosophy, sociology, anthropology, neuroscience, even religion... nothing he found seemed to address his quandary. That's when he dug into the dark corners of the library itself: the occult, cults, mysticism, mythology, demonology... That's when he finally came across it. The key. The knight in shining armor. The solution to his problem.

Siyu was absent from class that Friday, the only day he'd ever missed in Chemistry. He was far too busy preparing for what was to go down that evening in the gym. From sun up to sun down, he was squirreled away in his dark dorm room, a single light on his desk illuminating the old archaic book. To his left, the culmination of his research, a small spray bottle filled with a strange yellow liquid. His trash bin was filled with empty envelopes from Indonesia, Mozambique, Paraguay, Lesotho, Norway, and Russia. Remnants of a shopping spree of esoteric ingredients so outlined in the ancient texts, all of which were less than simple and far beyond illegal to obtain. Though, to Siyu, it mattered not. This was to be his final act, there were no consequences that would matter after it was all over.

As 7:30 struck, as expected, Eduardo entered the gym, setting his bag onto the shining wooden floor and scrolling through his socials. Siyu crouched in his standard spot in the shadows, watching Eduardo's feet bounce absentmindedly mere inches from him as he waited for his friend. It didn't take long, as Ethan kicked open the door, shouting his typical "Bruh! You're not gonna believe what happened last night." Siyu turned off his ears, uninterested in hearing yet another story about ecstasy, booze, and his weird thing for Charlize Theron's legs. Instead, he took the little plastic cap off the spray bottle, and sat silently beneath Ethan as he put on his stinking shoes. As he sat there, talking about absolutely nothing of substance, Siyu spritzed his feet gently with the concoction. He didn't notice a thing, continuing to chide and play around with Eduardo as Siyu sprayed the back of his legs and shorts, then his shirt and finally the back of his neck through the holes in the bleachers. By the time they got up and began to play their game, Ethan was entirely unaware he was coated with the elixir.

Ethan and Eduardo had a particularly impressive match between them. Eduardo had to keep up with Ethan's frantic energy, which he'd never had a problem with before. Hoop after hoop, he would scream and shout, rubbing it in his friend's laughing face. It was their best hoop sesh yet, fitting it would be their last. Go out on a bang, thought Siyu, as that energy quickly began to deplete. Before long, Ethan had complained about his knee giving out before he could dunk.

"Fuck, bruh. I guess kicking your ass tired me the fuck out!" Eduardo laughed at his friend, pushing his head down as he walked past.

"Your coke is wearing off I bet. I haven't seen you play like that in a long time, man! What the fuck did you take?" Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a subtle ache beginning to radiate at the base of his skull.

"I didn't take anything, fucktard! I'm just that good, and you needed a reminder." The two laughed like morphine-riddled hyenas, before plopping back down on the bench above Siyu. Their delectable scent washed down atop him like a waterfall of pheromones. "But I may need a minute, huhu."

"Yeah man, take a breather. Wouldn't want you to get too exhausted before tomorrow's game." Eduardo winked as he picked up his bag, saying his goodbye before walking out the side door, leaving Ethan massaging his aching wet feet on the bench. It was time. Siyu slowly made his way out from beneath the bleachers, his cheap shoes squeaking on the court as he approached Ethan.

"What does he see in you?" Siyu strolled over to Ethan, who chuckled to himself as he put his socked foot back into his shoe.

"Ahh fuck, man. What the fuck are you doing here?" Ethan was panting. To him, he had a hard workout. To Siyu, the elixir was working.

"You are awful, Ethan. You're rude, you're crass, you treat others like shit, and you smell. You're a real keeper, aren't you?" Ethan turned to Siyu, his indifferent expression melting away to indignancy. He jumped from his seat, ready to pound this 5 foot nerd into oblivion, until that damned knee gave out again, toppling him back onto the bench.

"Fuck. You better be thankful I'm tapped after that workout, fucker. You should thank me really, you'd be in the ground by now." Siyu stared with absolute apathy, knowing fully well he would not be brutalized by this waning star.

"You're scum, but he would do anything for you. I can't figure out why, trust me I've tried. But you have something going on in that empty brain of yours that he can't get over." Ethan turned and snickered under his breath.

"I know you. You're that little fuckin' cocksucker who's stalking Eddy, aren't you? See-who or whatever your fuckin' name is. Listen, buddy, I'll just tell you. He's not interested, alright? You have nothing he's looking for, so just leave him the fuck alo..." Ethan tried once more to stand, only for his legs to once again give out. "Fuck! What the fuck is going on?" Siyu smirked.

"I know. I'm not what he's looking for, again: I have tried. But you are what he's looking for, and you don't even see it." Siyu walked closer to the sweating jock, dripping from every pore as if he were in the throws of scarlet fever. "I've decided to do something about that, Ethan. You're no good for a guy that's as incredible and lovely and glorious as Eduardo, and I'm going to make sure that whatever it is you have that I don't gets put to good use." Ethan looked down at his legs, growing smaller and frail by the second. It looked as if he were melting, his skin sagging, his muscles deflating, his body just sinking into a puddle of sweat on the floorboards. Whatever slurs he wished he could launch at Siyu were caught in his collapsing throat as he gurgled and bubbled. Siyu watched with a gleeful malice, watching the top competitor sink into a puddle of his own fetid sweat. There was but one single glance of abject rage from Ethan's face before it too had plummeted to the ground, leaving behind his sopping wet clothes and a silent gymnasium. Siyu took a couple of seconds to just breathe and bask in his success. He looked down at the clothes and shoes, wafting his enemy's pungent scent, imbued by the puddle of his own essence he'd become.

Now full of excitement, with a pep in his step, he gathered the dripping clothes and shoes, slipping them into Ethan's gym bag before stealing away into the night. He quickly found himself bolting across the quad, hoping and praying no one saw him with another student's bag in his possession. Bursting into the dormitory, he ran up the stairs to his floor, taking a moment to breathe before he gingerly opened the hall door. Tip toeing ever so quietly down the carpeted hallway, praying at the last minute he wouldn't be caught by a languid R.A. or a drunk neighbor. The universe, it seems, was on his side that evening, as he unlocked his door and slipped in entirely unseen. Collapsing onto his bed, the heavy and damp bag sat next to him, radiating heat from within it's shiny plastic confines. It was time to finish this.

He turned to the bag, slowly unzipping it, allowing the dank, wet air within to rush out into his room. Ethan must have lived out of this bag, as it was filled with basketball shorts, sweatshirts, socks, shoes, blender bottles filled with protein shakes, and of course the lone sweat-soaked joint at the bottom. Siyu began shucking the wayward clothes onto his chair across the room, pleased to know he would have a couple of outfits that would fit him once this was all over. He emptied out the bag until the Ethan-infused clothes were all that was left in the bottom of the bag, swimming in a puddle of musky liquid.

Siyu smirked as he took out each piece, laying them out on the ground one by one. Tee shirt. Shorts. Disgusting jock strap. Ripe socks. Even riper sneakers. Finishing it off with the gold chain and single earring. It was all there. Rushing to his desk, Siyu grabbed the very last component to his plan: two facemasks, one white and one black. These two would be the final inoculation that would keep his changes permanent over time. Two weeks of breathing it in, letting it merge with his own essence, he would ensure that the new Siyu would be around long enough to ensnare his sweetheart. He bent down, picking up the jockstrap and a sock, both still dripping, and wringing out a sizeable amount of the stinking sweat to fall onto each mask. The stage was set, the materials were prepped, and it was time to make himself the perfect soulmate for Eduardo.

He started with the jockstrap. Even post-wringing, it still sat warm and damp, yellowed with the sweat and cum that had long sunk into it's fibers. Putting his two lithe feet into the straps, he nervously pulled up, droplets of the sweat rolling down his hairless legs before it fit loosely on his skinny waist. The change was immediate. There was no momentary ounce of silence and some slow change. No, his groin immediately ballooned out, the pouch quickly filling and pushing out tout against the wet fabric. His ass inflated loudly, the sounds of stretching and creaking rubber marked the expansion of his flat rear into two round and hairy orbs like basketballs on a shelf. Siyu gingerly groped his ass, dripping in sweat from the wiry hairs he'd never before had sprout out of his smooth skin. He cackled loudly, pulling the front strap forward, and peering into his hammock. He was met with a long, uncut python and two egg sized balls wafting out his new masculine cocksmell.

Now entirely intrigued, blinded by a sense of foreign hubris he'd long suppressed, he grabbed the shirt, slipping it over his head in one quick motion. The shirt quickly started to quake, turning from white to black, before his arms dropped like sacks of potatoes. Two firm pecs burst out from beneath the slick fabric, followed by his shoulders widening to twice it's former length. Siyu continued his moans of hedonistic pleasure, while his arms bulked up: firm but lean biceps and forest of hair growing from his forearms down to his wrists, before tattoos sprouted down his tan skin. He held out his hands, raucously laughing as his fingers lengthened, callouses appearing on his sweaty palms, and veins snaking wildly all the way up his arms.

"Interesting." Siyu's insane laughter ceased immediately. His eyes darted around the dark room, searching for the voice which had loudly billowed out of the shadows. "Fuck, bruh I thought I was dead fucking meat back there. But shit, it looks like you fucked up your little recipe didn't you?" Siyu's hands began to slowly clap, not at all under his full control.

"What the fuck? Where are you? How are you here?" His sweaty hand clasped over his mouth, sticking his middle finger into his mouth like gag.

"Aww, Siyu. What's wrong, buddy? You didn't wanna get rid of me, did ya? Nahhh. You wanted to BE me." His left hand grasped the shorts, slowly pulling them up his legs while his calves and quads burst out, covered in a thick carpet of black hairs. He shot up in height, easily breaking 6' 3" in seconds. He looked down, the height disorienting him as he gagged himself. "You got your wish, fucker. Kind of, at least. See, you thought you could turn me into a puddle and wear my shit, get all swole and dope as fuck, and what... He'd fall in love with you?" Siyu's eyes widened in terror. "Yeah, fucker I can see it all! I'm in here with you now. I can see how you jacked off to the idea of him plowing your ass after a long game. I can see how you followed him all over fucking town all the time. I can see how you thought some fuckin' magic bullshit would make you like me so you could force him to love you. Gotta say, that's some fucked up shit killing off your crush's best friend so you have no competition." Siyu's body bent over, picking up the socks, before plopping down onto the chair, surrounded by Ethan's clothes.

"See, you think I didn't know Eddy was into me? You think we didn't jack off together in our rooms when we needed a release? You think I wasn't into him too?" The hands slipped on the sopping wet socks, as his feet started soak up Ethan's sweaty essence, quickly followed by the nasty red shoes. As the laces were tied snug, his feet began to crack and swell, his arch growing tall and his toes lengthening out. Tattoos sprawled over the tops of his stinking feet and ankles, as the red fabric quickly turned orange, widening and lengthening even larger than Ethan's, until they were two massive size 15's. "Heheh, he likes feet, just so you know. Right when we get home after a long day, he loves it when I peel off my shoe and shove his face in it." Siyu felt his hand pinch his cheeks, and his middle finger caress his tongue in his mouth. "Thing is, Siyu, I was straight. I only had eyes for pussy, and fuck bruh, I knew how to stick my dick in it. I liked it when he sucked my nasty cock clean, but you know, it was just something between bros, you know?" Siyu slapped his meaty thighs, standing up tall and picking up the white facemask there on the ground. Tears ran down his terrified face as his own hands drew it closer.

"But now that I'm here, now that you and I are one, I think you may be right, dude." Siyu moaned against the hand over his mouth, just before it slipped out and grasped the other side of the mask. "I think we and Eddy are gonna be soulmates." He shrieked as the mask adhered over his nose and chin, and around his ears. Siyu could do nothing as he felt his brows lowering, his greasy hair falling out of his chiseled skull, quickly replaced by a sweaty black fade. His lips pillowed out as his long, meaty tongue licked them as he smirked with his pearly white teeth. Siyu could feel Ethan's consciousness wrap around him, like a tight latex suit compressing him tighter and tighter and tighter, until he visualize Ethan finally penetrating him. He pulled down his shorts and began to pump his greasy dick, while Ethan made himself at home inside of Siyu. Their traits intermingling with eachother- merging everything between them that would have made them distinct, now creating an amalgamation of both. As his balls began to shudder, pre cum dripping from his hooded cockhead, there was no more Ethan, and there was no more Siyu.

The first volley of spunk shot from his dick, memories of fucking gals on the weekends and guys on the weekdays solidified in his mind. Second volley of spunk, a sense of cocky self assurance swelled within him, though washed with a sense of empathy and camaraderie to mellow him out. Third volley of spunk, he was booksmart in his IT classes, but dumb as a box of rocks, choosing to funnel his free time out of class into the team and chilling out with his bros. Fourth volley of spunk, he loved Eduardo. That sweet, adorable, kinky little fuck was the apple of his eye, and he'd do anything for him. Though, he couldn't get too lovey dovey, he knew all too well that being chased and obsessed over was the quickest way to turn him off. He would happily tease, flirt, kiss, suck and fuck him, but he would let Eddy come to him. Fifth and final volley, his identity now centralized and firm: he was Shan Eoyang, a Chinese exchange student on scholarship for basketball. He was cool, he was hot, he was the golden hearted bad boy that made everyone around him go wild. The world was his oyster, and he would be there with his man by his side, and the various others who would worship at their sweaty masculine feet. He opened his eyes, and Shan took his first deep breath, taking in his own scent embedded into his mask.

"Fuuuuuuuck dude, that's good." He slipped his cock back into his dirty jockstrap, knowing all too well that Eddy would be into it when they finally met up. Bringing his fingers to his ears, he came perilously close to prying off his mask, though something in the back of his mind told him it probably wasn't the best idea. He pulled out his phone, not recognizing it whatsoever. It had his boyfriend's face as the screensaver, but it wouldn't take his password or fingerprint. Must be the previous tenant's phone, he thought to himself, as he opened the window and chucked it from the building. He'd run out and get one in the morning before class, as he had a bunch of scholarship money to burn.

---

Eduardo waited outside the basketball court, wondering where Ethan was. It was almost 8, and while he was never particularly adept at being on time, he would have at least texted. He looked down at his phone, scrolling through his Grindr, looking for whoever was available after hoops. Ethan would definitely let him suck him off in the locker room, but meh, that wasn't really going anywhere anyway. Thankfully, Siyu wasn't in class, apparently he'd dropped out from what the professor had said. At minimum he was relieved that the creepy little guy wasn't going to be following him home at night anymore.

Just as he was preparing to call it a night, the door burst open at the end of the hall. He turned to give Ethan a hard time for being so late, but the man before him was not Ethan. He was the tall, dark, and handsome archetype personified. He sauntered over to him with a confident stride, oozing a sense of pride and sexual energy.

"Oh... shit man. You uh, you caught me off guard. I was just waiting for my friend." The man approached Eduardo with smiling eyes behind the black facemask on his chin.

"You're Eddy, right? I'm a new student, just got on the basketball team. Coach says you might be able to show me around the place, if you're down of course? Name's Shan." Shan leaned against the wall, letting his hand rest on his neck, and smirking beneath the fabric as his sharp pit musk wafted at his gorgeous new teammate. Eduardo, happily letting in the stud's scent, lapped it up and shuddered.

"Yeah, man. I'm so down, I'm Eduardo. Friends call me Eddy." Shan leaned in close, their noses now inches from eachother.

"Eddy, then. Sounds like a good time, someone like you would probably be able to show me a lot." Shan winked, and Eddy blushed a bright red, nodding gingerly. "Well shit, how's about we shoot a couple hoops, we go back to my room and we show eachother around, what do you say?" Eduardo looked down, seeing Shan's massive well worn sneakers, which had inched their way to his own until they were firmly touching. Oh shit yeah, this guy was perfect.

"I say fuck yeah, man. Show me what you're made of." Eddy made the move, letting his fingers slowly touch Shan's forearm. Happily received, Shan ruffled his soon-to-be boyfriend's hair, as if it were second nature.

"Oh I'm gonna kick your ass on the court. We'll see what I do with it when we're done." He slapped Eddy's back, tossing his sweaty arm around his shoulder as the two walked into the court. They would be inseparable once again, and yet inseparable for the first time.

[c28hunter]

You call me a bich like it's a bad thing

Paring: Rockstar-reader X ex-Lance Stroll, Rockstar-reader X Max Verstappen

Face claim: Lzzy Hale

Summary: Y/N broke up with Lance and everyone thought that she won't be back in the paddock. They were wrong.

Final info: it's all fake and not meant to be treated seriously! It's also my first work in such a format so keep that in mind

y/nl/n_official

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 54 870 more

y/nl/n_official: Amsterdam you were 🔥FIRE🔥 last night! Thank you so much for screaming my newest single from the top of your lungs, couldn't have expected a better song release! "You call me a bitch like it's a bad thing" now available on every streaming platform!

see the comments:

y/n'sbich: I WAS IN AMSTERDAM SHE SMILED AT ME PEOPLE SHE SMILED AT ME

l/n4life: I lost my voice in Amsterdam, has anyone found it? liked by y/nl/n_official

y/ns_version: OKAY but can we talk about how she absolutely DESTROYED Lance Stroll in that song, like, QUEEN YOU ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS

mskmberly: YES!!! Like, calling his house a "little crib"?! Girls just fok smashed his door

livelaughlancestroll: I mean, doesn't it just mean that she's still obsessed with him 😒

mskmberly: she just publicly destroyed his ass, do you think she really wants him back?

amy.y/nsfan: I'm so happy she broke up with that guy, they haven't even matched each other

stroll_army: bruh why was she even invited to the paddock in the first place? She can't even sing

landos1stfan: eat shit and die

megfanartist: she's the most accurate celebrity to be invited to the paddock, since she's been an F1 fan. And she ACTUALLY knows what the sport is about

maxverstappen1: amazing concert! Can't believe it was real

y/nl/n_official: can't believe you were actually there!

y/nfanpage: OMG, MAX IN THE COMMENTS?!

f1arson: hello max???

verstappenfan: HUH?! HE WAS THERE WHAT THE FUCK?!

maxverstappen1 posted a new story

maxverstappen1: best shot of y/n that I got in Amsterdam last night

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y/nl/n_official

Liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 50 876 more

y/nl/n_official: Gald to be back in the paddock, you have no idea how much I missed this 🙏 Thanks to the @/redbullracing team for an invitation! Keep pushing guys!

see the comments

georgerussell63: good to have you back in the paddock!

y/nl/n_official: good to sing a duet with you again!

britneyf1: THAT. WAS. THE. MOST. HILARIOUS. THING. EVER.

rassell2.0: PLEASE MAKE A DUET!

winvictor: GEORGE MAKE A COVER OF Y/N'S NEWEST SONG

redbullracing: thank you for your visit! We hope to see you for the next race ❤️

y/nl/n_official: 🫡

y/nsversion: she's always been a redbull girlie I was right

maxverstappen1: paddle on Tuesday?

y/nl/n_official: just so you could beat me again? Sign me in

leclercs.verion: stop flirting in public, it's giving people diabetes

formula.formula: did you notice that she interacted with all teams APART FROM Aston Martin?

user56: well, she did have a chat with Alonso

george.the.mighty: you really thought she was going to go chit-chat with her ex AFTER releasing that new single?

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y/nl/n_official & maxverstappen1

y/nl/n_official: New hair, new show, new companion. Thank you Milan, you were amazing!

see comments

maxverstappen1: 😘❤️

y/nl/n_official: 🥰

landonorris: so that's why you couldn't go play paddle with me huh 🤔

maxverstappen1: priorities man

landonorris: simp

y/nl/n_official: @/landonorris paddle on Wednesday?

landonorris: with you? always

maxverstappen1: 😑

byelando: them. on tour. together. I can't

ferrarisversion: can't believe he actually got her

redbullracing: but you will deliver our driver safely for the next race, right?

y/nl/n_official: of course! And don't worry, I am keeping him fed and physically active

redbullracing: 😄👍

maxverstappen1: ... really?

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