#Thank you for reading all of that by the way! It really means a lot! I worked pretty hard on that analysis/speculation tbh.
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GAMEBOY â BANGCHAN
⥠â ó Źó Ź fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.
⥠synopsis â Bangchan is the campus playboyâcharming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.
[ 5.7k words ]âĄâ i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!
âĄâ THE PLAYLIST.
⥠[part one]
youâre so indecisive of what Iâm saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?
The pounding in your head was a testament to last nightâs choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.
After leaving the room with Bangchanâbecause, of course, that happenedâyou ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person youâd sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?
As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.
âYouâre alive,â Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. âAnd looking like shit.â
âAppreciate it,â you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. âReally warms the soul.â
Eunjiâs smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. âWe thought about waking you for breakfast but figured youâd need the recovery time.â
You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldnât have gotten up anyway.â
"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.
But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. âOh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoonâmy lit classmateâsaid he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!â
Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.
Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.
âApparently, the guy is a structural hazard,â Sohee chimed in, amused. âMinho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?â Your red-haired friend says giggling.
Eunji giggled. âThe girlâs lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, Iâd consider it an honor.â
You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. âHonestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?â
But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last nightâthe furniture banging against the wall, Bangchanâs muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunjiâs voice yanked you back to reality.
The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girlâs lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."
Lucky. Thatâs what theyâd call you if they knew. Luckyâand a traitor to everything youâd loudly professed about hating him. They didnât know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.
From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.
The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.
These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldnât risk dropping. For months, youâd built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.
Worst of all? You couldnât stop replaying every second of itâand how much youâd loved it.
Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Letâs just say they navigated like someone using a map upside downâan unsurprising disappointment every single time.
Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquestsâmore women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor youâd rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.
Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettableâand insufferably smug, no doubt.
Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last nightâs chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.
You: Up for a morning run?
The reply came in under two minutes.
Hyunjin: Itâs two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.
You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you neededâto burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.
You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of courseâbaggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.
You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didnât push. Not yet.
The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, youâd pulled ahead. âOkay, okayâhold up,â Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.
You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.
âThereâs something youâre not telling me,â he said, his tone playful but probing.
âThereâs nothing to tell,â you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.
âUh-huh.â He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. âThen why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?â
Well. There it was. No escaping now.
You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. âI was... needy, I guess.â
Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasnât buying it. âNeedy, huh?â
âLook,â you said, exhaling sharply, âIâm sorry if it made things weird. Youâre my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.â
âRelax,â he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. âA kiss isnât going to scare me off. Youâre stuck with me.â
His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. âTell you whatâfirst one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.â
The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. âSeriously?â
âSeriously,â he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. âUnless youâre too scared.â
You couldnât help but laugh as you bolted after him. âYouâre so on.â
You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.
After he dashed off to rehearse with Felixâbecause apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but youâa thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.
With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasnât exactly classified infoâevery girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.
The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you werenât here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didnât care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.
There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.
It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.
Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise. In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.
"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."
You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.
"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Donât you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."
He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"
âRight. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.â
Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.
â'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"
You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.
âIsn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?â
The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"
âI don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.â It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants.
Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.
"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldnât care less.
In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."
"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."
The words stung more than they should have. It wasnât just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didnât matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didnât mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasnât it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.
âThanks.â You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.
Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopelessâalways on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadnât even done.
Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if thatâs what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.
Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. Youâd been agonizing over the perfect soloâone that wouldnât just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.
Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasnât just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted youâit all melted away. Up there, you werenât just alive; you were electric. It wasnât just a hobby; it was instinct.
Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, youâd belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing âPart of Your Worldâ at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for realâno plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audienceâit clicked.
This was more than a passion. It was home.
Since high school, your hunger for the stageâand the spotlightâwas insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.
Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.
But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didnât miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.
Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like sheâd just carried the weight of the worldâand maybe she had. âOkay, kids. Listen up.â Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. âWeâre postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.â
Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
What the hell was going on?
âAll right, settle down,â Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. âJun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.â
âYou're shitting me.â Naheeâs voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, âSorry... but seriouslyââ
âThatâs so unfair!â another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. âBasketball and soccer arenât the only things this university has going for it.â
âI get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.â Mrs. Baekâs tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. âI went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, Iâm afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.â
It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.
When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldnât fix this, but it was something.
âThis is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?â Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.
At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.
Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...
âTell me about it, I'm so pissed off!â Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.
âSomeone's jumpy.â Sohee leaned across the table. âWhat's wrong? You three look like shit.â
âIt turns out the university cut the theaterâs funding in favor of sports.â Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasnât crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if youâd just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.
You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.
âThat sucks.â Felix shot back with a supportive smile. âI know how important the theater is to you guys.â
âEveryoneâs been working so hard,â Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. âItâs just... unfair.â
A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchanâs nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.
âIs there nothing we can do?â Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.
âCar wash?â Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. âClassic fundraiser, right?â
âSure,â you shot back, deadpan, âletâs exploit women for the sake of art.â Your glare couldâve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.
âOkay, fine. What about food?â Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. âMuffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.â
Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. âFelix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.â
Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. âI donât wanna brag, but theyâre basically legendary.â
âAlright, then.â Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. âYou two make the brownies. And we,â he motioned to himself and Bangchan, âsell them.â
You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.
âIâve got the perfect idea,â he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.
You raise an eyebrow, laughing. âWhat? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?â
The grin widened, and thatâs when you knew you shouldâve kept your mouth shut.
âThatâs exactly what weâre going to do.â
Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldnât let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.
So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.
Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zoneâchocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldnât quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.
You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.
âUh⌠hello?â You blinked, your brow furrowing. âWhat are you doing here?â
Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.
âSo⌠newsflash,â he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. âYou might wanna double that recipe.â
Confusion flashed across your eyes. âWhat do you mean?â
He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. âI may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.â
Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. âYou what?â
His grin widened at your disbelief. âYou heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.â
It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. âThatâs⌠thatâs fantastic!â you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.
Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. âThought youâd like that.â
âOh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.â You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.
Before you could dial, Bangchanâs voice cut through your focus. âYou shouldnât go there.â He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. âItâs a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.â You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. âYou can use my dorm. If you want.â He quickly adds the last sentence.
Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchanâs dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. âItâs fine,â you said, waving him off. âIâll figure it out. Donât worry about it.â
But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. âYou sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I donât think youâve got all night.â
As much as you hated to admit it, he wasnât wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. âFine,â you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. âBut only if you help.â
âYou don't have to ask twice.â
It turned out Bangchanâs âhelpâ involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, youâd pieced together another puzzle about him.
Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his âdormâ was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchanâpolished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.
âCool place.â You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.
âThanks.â he gave you a smile. âSo, this is the kitchen.â He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. âMake yourself at home.â
âThanks,â you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. âNot just for the space but⌠you know, for helping.â
It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.
His lips twitched into a grin. âWow. Didnât think Iâd ever hear you say that.â
You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. Heâs helping.
âRelax,â he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. âJust kidding. Thereâs booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.â
âIâm fine, thanks,â you said, sidestepping the offer.
âIâve gotta sort something out with the coach,â he said, grabbing his phone. âIâll be back in 20. Think youâll survive here alone?â
Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. âYeah, no worries.â
With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.
How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchanâs kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with himâa mistake youâd promised yourself youâd never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.
You werenât exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you werenât a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchanâs fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of artâand funding.
While you whisked and poured, you couldnât resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.
The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. Thatâs when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.
âHoly shit. Are you all right?â he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. âIâm fine,â you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. âSorry about the mess. Iâll clean it up, I promise.â
He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. âYouâve got something⌠there,â he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.
âItâs fine,â you muttered, avoiding his gaze. âAs soon as Iâm done here, Iâll head back to the dorm and clean this up.â
Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. âI can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.â
âNo, no. Iâm fine,â you said, waving him off. âBut thanks.â
He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. âHere,â he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.
You blinked, completely caught off guard. âYou know you couldâve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one youâre not currently wearing?â
He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. âAnd whereâs the fun in that?â
For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, âYouâre impossible.â
âIâve been told,â he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadnât just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.
After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchanâs shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.
Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. âDid you know,â he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, âthat youâre officially the worldâs clumsiest cook? Thereâs brownie batter... under the sink.â
You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. âHey, I said Iâd clean up,â you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. âAnd for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. Iâm just trying to help.â
Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. âHelp? No fucking way. Youâre a disaster, love.â
You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. âExcuse me?â You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. âI didnât see you stepping up to bake anything.. Letâs see you handle a whisk without breaking something.â
He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. âTrust me, Iâd still be better than whatever chaos youâve got going on here.â
Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. âOh yeah? Well, letâs see you handle this.â Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.
Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. âOh, itâs on now.â
With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. âI'm sorry, I...â
Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.
âReally? Is this how itâs gonna go?â You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. âBring it on,â you shot back, face lighting up with mischief.
You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.
Then, you collidedâchest to chest. Bangchan wasnât laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didnât even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.
A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expressionâless defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.
Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchanâs breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didnât seem to mind one bit.
All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.
Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.
When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.
âI should probably clean up this mess.â your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it shouldâve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences.
âDonât you dare.â his voice was low, the words like a command you werenât about to ignore. His eyes locked with yoursâintense. âYou want this.â his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. âI know you do.â
Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.
âBangchan.â You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. âWe canât.â you licked your lipsâstupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.
You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?
âOh yeah?â he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. âTell me one good reason. Just one.â
You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. âPlease.â
He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. âFine,â he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.
The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadnât just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping itâd drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.
He pulled away, no jokes, no teasingâjust silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.
When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what youâd just crossed into.
You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldnât quite bring yourself to regret itâat least, not yet.
⥠taglist â @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik
#skz#christopher bang#stray kids imagine#stray kids#stray kids fanfics#kpop smut#bangchan imagines#bang chan#bangchan fanfic#bangchan#smut#gameboy bangchan#bang christopher chan#bangchan smut#bangchan x reader#bang chris#bangchan x you#bangchan x y/n#bangchan x female reader#skz imagines#skz smut#skz x reader#changbin#lee know#seungmin#han jisung#skz x y/n#skz x you#enemies to lovers#best enemies
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abu dhabi- o.piastri
summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.
pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader
warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.
a/n: thank you all very much for your patience, this series means a lot to me and I've had a lot of personal stuff going on, so I felt bad for leaving you guys hanging for a bit. Thank you all so much for reading this series and I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I love writing it!
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven
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Abu Dhabi. World Drivers Champion. World Constructors Champions.
Holy shit.
All those years of hard work, of giving up being a child, of giving up having friends or family. Youâd done it. You were a winner.
You jumped out of the car and ran straight to Oscar, jumping in his arms. He caught you (of course) and cheered with you.
âYou fucking did it!â he smiled, pulling your helmet off. âYou did it!â
Every emotion flooded through you, but one in particular stood out; gratefulness.
You were grateful for Oscar, for how he treated you, for who he was. He was there for you through everything, he helped you whenever he could, and while yes, you had a rough start, in the end you couldnât imagine F1 without Oscar in it.
âThank you, Osc, for everything,â you smiled, hugging him close.
âAnytime. Whenever. Always,â he nodded.
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He was drunk as fuck, but he was still watching you as you chatted with various team members.
âYouâre fucked, arenât you?â Lando chuckled, joining his side.
Oscar rolled his eyes. âIâm drunk, yes.â
âNo. Youâre fucked for her,â Lando pointed twoards you. Perfect, unreachable, you.
âYes,â he nodded, frowning. âIâm fucked for her.â
âItâs pretty clear.â
âI know it is,â Oscar scoffed. âThanks for Baku, by the way.â
Lando sighed. âLook, Iâve said a lot of shit this season that I didnât mean, and Iâm sorry I was a dick to the two of you. It wasnât right and I do feel bad about it. So, Iâm sorry.â
âThank you, but that doesnât solve the fact that sheâs being this mysterious weirdo and acting really into me and then really not,â Oscar whined.
âSheâs a very broken person-â
âYou think?â Oscar rolled his eyes. âYouâre not exactly giving me much hope right now.â
Lando laughed at his drunk state. âJust talk to her,â he offered. âShe listens to you no matter what.â
Oscar stared at him, then nodded. âGood idea!â he announced (a little too loud as it drew the attention of a few people around the two of them), and looked at you. But you werenât there. Oscar frowned again.
âYouâll find her before the end of the night, Iâm sure you will,â Lando clapped a hand on his shoulder and passed him a bottle of water to sober him up. âGood luck.â
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Oscar had decided to go find you, he wanted to talk. On the way there, heâd acquired about three more drinks and pissed off a small group of other McLaren employees by spilling one of his three drinks and apologised profusely (albeit rather mumbly), and thatâs when you came in with a hand on his shoulder and a gentle smile that brushed it all over.
âAre you alright?â you asked him, taking him to a corner to look him over.
âY/n?â he questioned, his vision blurry. âIs that you?â
You chuckled. âYeah, itâs me buddy, you alright?â
He nodded, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. âIâm so proud of you.â
âIâm proud of you too, Osc, come on, we get you to bed?â you offered, pulling one of his arms over your shoulder and helping him walk.
âBed sounds good,â he nodded, allowing you to walk him to his room.
Drunk Oscar was what you assumed three year olds acted like. He pressed every button in the lift, ding-dong ditched people in the hallway, and stripped (almost) naked the second he got in the door of his room. After a few minutes of being in his room, he decided it was a good time to puke his guts out in the toilet, and you, being the good samaritan you are, decided to stay with him.
âFeeling any better?â you asked, putting a cold cloth on his head as he lay in bed. You sat beside him, holding his hand.
He shook his head, his eyes closed and a grimace on his lips. âShit.â
You chuckled lightly. âYouâll feel better in the morning.â
He opened his eyes and stared into yours, his hand resting over your hand. And time (as it always did when he was looking at you like that) stopped. The world melted away, and it didnât matter that it was 2 in the morning, or that heâd just vomited, or that all of this was a lot more confusing than either of you had anticipated. You two just got to be with each other, and that was enough for the both of you.
âWhy donât you love me?â he asked, his voice small and raw. He spoke to you with all the care in the world, but you could see he was hurting. You were hurting him.
Fuck. Why couldnât any of this be easy? Why couldnât you just⌠talk to him? Confess to him? Be normal? The boy you love was sitting there in front of you telling you he loved you and you just⌠froze for a moment. You took a deep breath. âOsc, of course I love you,â you whispered. âBut you shouldnât love me. I wouldnât be any good for you.â
âI donât care-â
âYouâd end up hating me-â
âI could never hate you,â he shook his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. âI could never hate you.â
And you believed him. That was the scary part. You believed him when he told you he loved you. You believed him when he said he cares. You believed him when he said you look beautiful. You believed him when he said he wouldnât hate you. âYou should,â you whispered, tears forming in your eyes.
âI couldnât,â he whispered back, a soft smile on his face. He wiped away a tear that fell. âI donât want you to be scared of how you feel.â
âI donât want to hurt you,â your voice broke. âIâm not an easy person to love.â
âI disagree,â he chuckled, wiping every tear away. âI find itâs as easy as breathing.â
And you couldnât take it anymore. You curled up beside him and sobbed. You didnât know how long youâd done it for, but you woke up beside him, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your head giving you something to ground yourself to. You remembered every moment of last night, every word he said, and everything you said.
You just hoped he wouldnât.
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When Oscar woke up, he knew there was something he had asked you last night, but he couldnât remember what. After his conversation with Lando, there was nothing else he really remembered, apart from the fact that you had brought him up to his room, and he pieced together that heâd probably asked you to stay (being the pathetic hopeless romantic he is), and thatâs why you were in his bed.
A few seconds after waking up, the hangover hit, and fuck it was bad. His entire body ached.
âIâm never drinking again,â he groaned, his voice hoarse.
You chuckled beside him. âRemember anything?â
He sighed, turning to meet your eyes. âNope.â
As much as that destroyed you, you knew it was for the better. Oscar was better off without you, that, you knew for sure. But, you also couldn't put aside the confession he'd made last night. âI find itâs as easy as breathing.â It played in your head over and over again, like a mantra that made every negative thought in your head silent for a few seconds. Oscar was good at that, making you question yourself. Either way, you were glad he hadn't remembered. It was for the better, right?
There was a split second where he couldâve sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in your eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it was there, replaced with a smile. âWell, letâs go back to Monaco.â
He groaned just thinking about facing the day, but the fact that he woke up next to you meant it was better than any day heâd ever had.
He definitely needed to know what he asked you last night. And you definitely needed him to not find out.
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#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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Jude Bellingham Reads Thirst Tweets About Himself
Jude Bellingham x Reader
The camera is set up, and Jude Bellingham sits comfortably on the couch, holding your phone. He looks at you, already suspicious.
âYou really got me reading thirst tweets?â he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You nod excitedly. âYup! And no backing out.â
Jude sighs but smirks. âAlright, letâs get this over with.â He scrolls and immediately widens his eyes. âNah, this oneâs crazy.â
He clears his throat dramatically before reading, ââJude Bellingham could ruin my life, and Iâd thank him.ââ
His jaw drops. âRUIN your life?! What does that even mean?!â He looks at you for an explanation.
You just shrug. âTheyâre dedicated.â
Jude shakes his head and keeps scrolling. âOkay, next one.â He reads, ââJude Bellinghamâs hands look big enough to carry me, and honestly, Iâd let him.ââ
He pauses, flexing his hands. âI mean⌠I do have big hands, but what do you mean, âcarry youâ? Where are we going?â He laughs, but his ears are turning red.
You burst out laughing. âJude, youâre blushing.â
âI am NOT.â He clears his throat again and continues. ââJude Bellingham could look at me once, and Iâd pass out on the spot.ââ He leans closer to the camera. âAlright, letâs test that theory. If youâre watching this, donât pass out.â
You roll your eyes. âJude, stop flirting with the internet.â
He smirks. âNot my fault they started it.â
Scrolling again, he suddenly chokes on his own breath. âOh, NO. Iâm not reading that.â
You snatch the phone. âOh, come on. What does it say?â
Jude groans, covering his face. âIt says, âJude Bellingham could call me a bad girl, and Iâd forget my own name.ââ
Your mouth drops open. âOh my God.â
Jude stares at the camera in disbelief. âYou lot need Jesus.â
Youâre crying laughing. âRead one more!â
Jude sighs but scrolls. His eyes widen. âOh, hell no.â He reads it anyway. ââJude Bellingham, if you see this, I will bark for you.ââ
He drops the phone. âNah. Iâm done. Youâre all unhinged.â
Youâre wheezing at this point. âRegret doing this?â
Jude shakes his head, laughing. âOne hundred percent.â
[TikTok ends â comments are wild]
Top Comment: âTHE WAY HE SAID âYOU LOT NEED JESUSâ IâM SCREAMING đâ
Second Comment: ââLetâs test that theoryâ JUDE PLEASE đłâ
Third Comment: âWe broke him and I have no regrets.â
#football x reader#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x yn#jude x reader#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x you#football fic
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You put Breakdown with a gutbuster in my head, and now I need. For him to use it. On me. (Aka reader)
Bonus points if it's disgustingly cute and sweet and BD gets lots of love and praise. đĽšđĽş
I overdid it. Again. Thank you @drunkeninlovesailor for beta-reading this fic and smacking some sense into me when self-doubt reared its ugly head. And I will go on to say @ss-shitstorm made me adore Breakdown so much more through Breaking Bread. I look up pictures of him and cry And yes, this is a sequel to Visitors - so back to the heatverse
Knock Out always goes first. Breakdown doesnât mind it. At least he shouldnât. He knows heâll have his turn with you. Everyone does.
Second or seventh place, it doesnât matter. He should be grateful to have a chance. Just like he should be grateful he didnât lose more than one optic. Or the feeling in his left arm. Or his honor.
Again, it doesnât matter. Whatâs done is done. Itâs his turn. No superior waiting at your habsuite, no humiliating dismissal (obviously, they donât mean for it to seem humiliating â theyâre his superiors after all, and he has to obey them) â only you in the midst of your heat cycle.
The âbreeding roomâ, as you jokingly call it, is actually Knock Outâs old habsuite. Repurposed, yeah, but heâs been here enough times to recognize it. Any Con worth their ball-bearings can upgrade after reaching third class. Knock Out used to be a first class. Then he was promoted to Chief Medical Officer and skipped a rank. Breakdown is stuck in second class. Better than first. Better than being a vehicon. He should be satisfied.
Youâre curled up in your oversized berth on top of the heating pad. âHey, squishy,â he whispers, taking his usual place next to you. âDonât tell me Knock Out tired you out.â Your answer is a snort. You stretch, flesh poking out from under your frame coverings. A common sight by now, but his cooling fans didnât get the memo. His frame vibrates with their familiar hum.
âLike what you see handsome?â you ask and scuttle up to him, wearing that precious spark-warming smile. He returns it full force.
âWhat can I say? Even a one-opticced oaf can recognize true beauty.â âCareful, partner. Thereâs only so much I can take before jumping on your spike.â He barks a laugh. âIt may come sooner than you think.â âBring it. Iâm ready to deepthroat until your system reboots. But first -â you huff as you climb into his lap, waving away the servo heâs offering. Once comfortably seated in his lap, you cheekily rub your aft against his interface panel.
âSpill the tea, sis.â
âHmphâŚâ He drums his digits over his thigh. âWeâve had a record break in the mines! I havenât seen them this happy in quartexes. There was a small party at homebase, squadâs been celebrating with engex.â
âHomemade?â
âNah â Iâve checked. I wonât let them pull that stunt again.â He winces at the memory. B15F. Poor scrapperâs been euthanized well before his time. There wasnât much left to save. The engex melted right through his fuel tanks. Breakdown didnât pride himself on morality anymore â none of them did. But it was the right call â even if the uncertainty is tearing through his circuitry like a horde of scraplets. Could Knock Out have fixed B15F? Or maybe it wouldâve just dragged out his suffering for a chance at nothing. His conjunx had studied at a bigshot academy â Breakdownâs knowledgeâs based around rushed medical training. âYou okay, big guy?â He snaps out of it. âYeah! Everythingâs good.â You canât see his reassuring smile with his massive chassis in the way. But maybe if he keeps it up heâll really mean it.
âYou sure? Youâve been doing that a lot lately.â His smile falters. If a human has noticed it⌠who else has? Is this why Dreadwingâs been especially tolerant of his mistakes? Scrap, Breakdown almost misses his commanding officerâs reproaches. Could he get any more pitiful for fragâs sake? Proving himself after losing an optic to fleshies is bad enough. Heâs not an invalid â he wonât be demoted to janitorial duties after working his aft off to make it this far.
âWorkloadâs been pretty intense. Been on my mind a lot.â He adds a chuckle to convince you â but he canât see your expression with his chassis in the way.
âBad enough for the vehicons to get blackout drunk again?â
âFound them recharging in mine carts.â
âJust like a college frat party, huh?â He has no idea what that means. Doesnât stop him from laughing, though. âYou shouldâve seen them getting out! The sight brought lubricant to my optic.â âScrambling like turtles stuck on their backs?â Oh â those, he definitely remembers. âBetter. Remember that video you sent of the cat-looking thing surrounded by fermented fruits?â âThe raccoon?â âYeah! Struggling to sit up, then falling back in again!â You snort louder. âAh. An absolute classic. You should totally film it next time, I would kill to see it.â âOof. Iâd love to, but Iâm not sure I can do that while on shift. Ask Soundwave. Nothing escapes him.â Especially any contamination of the medbay â his processor shudders at the memory. At least it wasnât Commander Starscream. Fooling aroundâs been kept to Knock Outâs habsuite ever since. And outside the ship, but thatâs not the Intelligence Officerâs business.
âMore than you knowâŚâ you say. Your tiny digits sneakily stroke the protomatter between his hip and thigh. The touch isnât sensual. At least he doesnât think itâs supposed to be. Youâre not shy about squeezing, biting or running your glossa over it. This feels different. Hesitant.
âYou know⌠you rarely visit first.â He sputters. âItâs not that I donât want to or anything!â He shifts his frame and cranes his neck to take a good look at you. No success. âItâs that⌠Iâm still a soldier, and theyâre my superiors.â âI know that, silly. Iâm talking about how you always let Knock Out have the first go at me before either of your shifts start. Why is that?â âIâŚâ He shakes his helm. âCome on, second place doesnât make any difference. As long as I get to pay you a visit, Iâm happy!â His vox is strained. He meant to sound cheerful. What came out felt like rust being scraped off mesh.
You sink your digits into his thigh. Not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt. A single fleshie canât hurt a Cybertronian. But itâs clearly meant as a warning. Even he can tell that.
âDude, just ask to go first. Knock Out is lovely and all, but you shouldnât neglect yourself for his sake. I want you to come around and let loose before anyone else. Hell, you deserve it. Do you want me to ask Megatron personally? I can do that, no prob-â âNo!â It comes out too desperate. âNo,â he repeats. Softer. âThe others donât do well with favorites. Uh⌠except maybe Soundwave, but he doesnât count.â Breakdown cringes. He wants no part in their power struggles, especially Commander Starscreamâs. Else heâd end up at the barrel of his Masterâs cannon.
âOkay⌠but my point still stands. Ask Knock Out to reschedule next time orr Iâm bringing Megatron into this.â His vents huff, servos drawn into fists.
âGot it,â he relents. âIâll talk to him, but if he refuses-â âHe wonât refuse,â you say none-too-softly. âWeâve had a chat post-coitus.â He blinks. âYou cannot be serious.â âLow and behold, I am. What? Did you expect me not to address it?â âHeâs going to be furious at me.â âLike hell . If he so much as lifts a digit, Iâll be happy to inform Megatron and get him put in his place. Heâs your superior in the medbay, not outside of it last I checked. And trust me, Iâve been checking.â He clenches his jaw and offlines his optic. âWeâre notâŚâ he starts gently, leveling his words carefully. âWeâre not Newsparks. Thereâs a balance weâve established on the Nemesis. All of us. Bringing Lord Megatron into this wonât offset the balance. Itâll destroy it. What we have here,â he gestures at the small habsuite. âIs thanks to his generosity. I donât want to lose this because of some petty interface stuff. If he intervenes⌠I doubt weâll still be able to visit.â Thereâs a long pause. He gives you the time to mull it over. An apology already on his glossa. âI understand. I know itâs not my place to call the shots. Part of me wishes thatâŚâ You swallow. âPart of me wishes that I could make things easier for you guys. Youâve all been through so much, and I know Iâm only the shipâs resident pet or whatever, but I can throw my weight around a bit. You know, use my position for good?â âFor good? Primus, youâre already doing us enough good!â âHm, not exactly. Youâre the ones helping me with my heat when heâs not around. Ugh â I would be suffering without you guys.â You squeeze his thigh. âMan-â you laugh nervously. âI hope Iâm not getting too sappy. Youâre, like, the only one I can have these conversations with.â His fans stutter. âReally? Not even Lord-â âNot even,â you repeat with finality. Thereâs a comfortable silence. Breakdown is smiling to himself.
âHey, big guy.â âYeah, squishy?â âWanna kiss?â âIs that even a question?â he asks as he picks you up from his lap, servos cradling your fragile human frame. âMmm, you know the answer.â You touch the sides of his face. His cooling fans flip to the second setting. Your hands are soft. Incredibly soft. His vents cease functioning entirely as you kiss him. Your glossa is warm and wet. His circuits crackle with charge. How could something so small push his systems into overdrive? When you pull away, heâs left cold and yearning. You donât waste a klik undressing yourself, tossing your frame coverings over his servos and onto the berth. His lips find yours again. You devour his intake like your fuel tanks are empty.
Knock Out satiated you groons ago, but youâre already running hot with want. His heavy engine purrs. âSomeoneâs eager to get spiked,â he mutters against your intake. You ex-vent sharply and kiss again, grinning against his lips. He slides a digit between your legs, which you immediately part. Thereâs still feeling in this one, taking in the heat of your slick valve. Thereâs no trace of your last interface, only a craving for more. A hiss escapes you as he rubs the digit over your minuscule anterior node. Your hips buck into him, teeth grazing his lip.
âPlease, stop teasing already. You know I canât take it.â âIâm not a tease - thatâs Knock Outâs job.â He swipes his glossa over your intake. âIâm the total opposite. So, what do you say? Is your little valve ready to take my spike?â Your optics widen, lubricating in excitement. âOh finally!â You press your helm against his. âYou have no idea how long Iâve been waiting for this! Iâm so glad the recent energon haul got you enough to mass displace.â âActually, Iâve been rationing my energon for a deca-cycle!â You step away from his helm and look at him in⌠strange horror. âYou what?â Thereâs pity in your optics and disappointment furrowing your optical ridge.
Oh frag him! Why did he have to open his intake? âItâs nothing to worry about, I swear! Iâve done this plenty of times in the past â there was this time my unit was stranded in the Sea of Rust and there was no energon for almost a whole deca-cycle! Impressive, right? You donât see any seekers surviving that!â Your horrified expression worsens. âWhat do you mean youâve been starving yourself for weeks just to mass displace and fuck me?â
âCome on, itâs not really starving! We bots can deal with it better than you humans!â he stammers, engine revving in panic. âItâs not about that â itâs about sacrificing yourself for⌠for this!â you gesture at your body. âFuckâs sake, you could have told me! I was waiting for you to ask! I could have gotten you the energon ages ago!â âThen why didnât you?â The words smash through his intake before he can stop them, leaving him to clean up the mess.
His spark tightens when you flinch. Itâs the first time heâs startled you. The first time heâs seen you scared. âI⌠I didnâtâŚâ Your gaze falls. âScrap, Iâm so sorry! Itâs not my place to say it, I didnât mean-â âItâs fine,â you gently stop him. He immediately yields. âYou donât have to apologize. I just⌠didnât expect it to be this bad.â A sigh leaves your intake. âI still want to help, though. If Knock Out can mass displace almost every time he visits, isnât there plenty of energon to go around? Donât you also work in the medbay on top of everything? You deserve at least the same amount of rations.â âItâs more complicated than that,â he mutters. âKnock Out outranks me.â âSo? Youâre just one bot, it wonât drain the reserves.â He presses a servo to his helm. âMy frame typeâs the issue. Us warrior class bots need far more energon than the average vehicon.â âYes, and? Youâre still just one more war frame. Who else is there? Megatron, Dreadwing â that makes three.â You bite your lip when you meet his optic. âLet me give you a hand. Iâll leave the whole thing with Knock Out alone if you let me help with this.â âIâŚâ His vents huff. âOkay. Iâll let you take care of it. But, please tell him not to summon me. Else itâll seem suspicious.â A smile tugs at the corner of your intake. âGot it. Easier done than said.â Hesitating, you reach out to touch his cheekplate. He leans in. You take a deep in-vent. âIâm sorry for blowing up like that. Iâve been so worried about everyone lately, Iâve overstepped so many boundaries. The energon thing just⌠drove me off the edge.â âItâs okay,â he says, unsure of his own words. âIt happens to the best of us. If itâs any comfort,â he grimaces, âKnock Outâs been riding my tailpipe about my energon intake for the whole deca-cycle. Thatâs why I⌠tried to keep it a secret. Until now.â âDid it work on him?â
âFrag no!â He laughs. âFor all his drawbacks, heâs the closest thing to a doctor on this ship. Noticing somethingâs wrongâs part of his primary code!â His laughter dies down. âSorry. This wasnât supposed to happen. I definitely ruined the mood.â âNot at all.â You press your cheek against his. âIf itâs any comfort on my part, Iâve been called someone elseâs name during interface.â His optic buzzes in its socket. âWho?â he demands without meaning to. âWho?â He repeats, far softer â now a polite question. âNo one in High Command, sadly,â you say like youâve read his mind, adding an apologetic shrug. âAnother human before the alien shebang happened.â âAh.â He averts his optic to hide his disappointment. âCome on, man. You know I would have immediately rung you up if Starscream had been moaning Megatronâs name during overload.â He cracks a smile. âI guess youâre right.â âGossip girls forever?â You offer your fist. âGossip girls forever,â he agrees, tapping it with his digit. You both mimic an explosion and draw your servos away in slow motion. âStill not sure what explosive punches have to do with gossip.â âShhh - itâs a human bestie thing.â You kiss him again. Gently at first, then harsher with his wordless encouragement â your hunger makes his engine rev. âWant to start with valve to glossa action? How about we keep mass-displacement for the final course?â âLike Iâll ever refuse a free refueling.â You snicker. The noise is so precious it makes his joints weak. Lying on his abdomen with you in his servos, you writhe as he presses his glossa to your valve. âFuck,â you hiss. âYou okay?â heâs unable to hide the smugness in his tone. âI thought Knock Out had the first taste.â â Fuck , Knock Out. I need your glossa right now. No one elseâs.â His fans shudder. Once, handling someone so small was circuit-frying. Heâd been with plenty of minicons, but never an organic. Those bots could take a good pounding. Fleshies? Not so much.
âFuck.â You shiver as his glossa rubs up and down your pretty valve. Your hips buck into it. He grins between your legs and licks again. And again. And again. Until he feels your servos on his crest. âI need to ride your face,â you say â more declaration than request. He blinks, grin widening. âThat desperate, huh?â âShut up,â you growl â too adorable for your own good. How he wants to squeeze and smother you against his face. Your legs are soft on either side of his cheeks, servos gripping onto his crest with impressive strength for a creature so small and frail. He holds his glossa out for you to use as you please, two digits holding your hips in case you tumble off. âHowâŚâ You pant. âHow are you this good?â He shrugs with his free arm. His vents blast harder. âIâm not even doing anything,â he mumbles with his glossa out. âOf course you are. Youâre being your sweet himbo self,â your words falter as you keep riding.
His cheekplates heat up. âUh, a what now?â
Thereâs no answer, only your legs shaking as you furiously grind against his intake. You grip onto his crest, your entire frame shaking. âBreakdown!â you call out, vox breaking. A sudden burst of charge travels down his interface array. His pressurized spike clanks against his panel. âFrag,â he groans. His spikeâs throbbing, Ugh, it hurts like he swung it against a wall.
At least youâre oblivious to his, uh, mishap â twitching against his glossa while trying to slow your ventilation. The plating of hips shifts and his panels release his array. His valve is soaking with transfluid, steam almost emanating off of it after overheating for half a groon. The cold air makes his spike twitch. âIs it⌠is it time?â you ask weakly, turning around to look at his lap. âOh hey, so thatâs where the noise came from.â He cringes, but still helps you get down. You scurry towards the middle of the berth and cheer out âShow me the goods, big boy!â Mass displacement is something heâd done in the past â back on Cybertron when there was plenty of energon to go by. Now itâs just a waste. Not for you, obviously! Primus, youâre worth every last drop. His working receptors buzz with sensation. System diagnostics appear at the corner of his vision. Mass conversion: successful
Warning:
Minimum energon required: 70%
Current level: 93% His joints are calibrated, thereâs no ache in his processor, subspace feels fine â everythingâs in working order. He can rest easy and focus on the important stuff. âWoah.â you beam at him. Itâs uncanny to see you⌠so much bigger than heâs used to.
The hug is sudden but not unwelcome. Your helm comes up to his chassis, but only barely. It doesnât take long for you to pull him on top (the close view is to offline for), and drag him into a kiss. His spark pulsates like never before.
âPlease, spike me,â you beg. âYou have no idea how long Iâve been waiting for this.â He looks down at his spike. Then back at you. There are many things heâs learned as a nurse, one of which being: pick the smallest pair of forceps when operating on minicons. Sadly, he cannot replace his spike with a smaller one. But he can prepare you for the operation. âHey, how about I get you started with something else before you get the hammer?â He lifts up the servo with functioning receptors and flexes his digits. âPromise youâll rail me afterwards.â âPromise.â He grins.
Heâs a denter first and all, but heâs always been careful with his servos back when brushing debris off his comrades after a busted demolition job. It felt like second nature to him. They were at the bottom of the scrapheap. Caring for others, even in small ways, made their plight bearable. His own at least. He pushes in, chuckling as you furrow your optical ridge, intake slightly agape. âDoes it sting?â âNo.â Another digit is carefully added. You whimper and grit your dentae. One digit and a half then. âWhat about now? How do you rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?â âOh shut upâŚâ Your tiny valve is absolutely soaked, slick with human lubricant, struggling to accommodate him. If youâve taken the entire High Command, you can take him. Sure, heâs been told his spike is a âweapon forged by Solus herselfâ, but Megatronâs definitely bigger. And youâve fragged him. Everyone knows that. Your valveâs more durable than it seems.
You clench around his digits, expression so lovely itâs clear youâre about to overload. He cautiously curls a digit inside of you. The gentle pressureâs an easy way to make your valve calipers clam down on him. Another whimper escapes you as he rubs at the spot. Your pedes push against his thighs, a desperate plea to stop. But he knows better. âCute,â he thinks as your sweet noises intensify. He never expected fleshies to be so adorable â but then again, youâre not like the other squishies. Lord Megatron picked the best one. âPlease,â you whisper. âThis is torture.â âAw, I thought you wanted to overload.â âYou and IâŚâ You swallow. âWe both know damn well youâre teasing me. I need your spike, not⌠not this .â
He laughs. âI keep my promises, donât worry about it.â He pulls you flush against him, legs over his hips. Bracing himself on one servo, heâs got an arm cautiously wrapped around your waist. âComfortable? How do you rate your position on a scale from 1 to-â âBreakdown, I swear to fu-â âGot it. Itâs hammer time.â He grins. You grip onto his digits and offline your optics. He pushes in. You suck in a sharp in-vent. He pauses.
âGo on,â you say after a moment. âI can take it. I guess I didnât expect it to be so big.â âBig?â He blinks at you. âYouâre the one taking Lord Megatron. Heâs larger than me.â âNot his spike.â You chuckle. He looks up at the ceiling in wonder. âWow.â âWow indeed. Now please put that spike to good use.â Like a good soldier and seasoned interface partner, he follows your orders. Ridge by ridge, you take him, grip tightening and dentae gritting until he reaches your limit. He shudders. Youâre clenching around him like a cold press, crushing his spike harder than any minicon valve. You seem on the verge of shutting down. âYou okay?â â...yeah.â âDo you want me to stop?â âDonât you dare.â âGot it.â His smile widens.
The pace is incredibly slow. Yeah, Knock Out likes having his circuits rearranged â and yeah, most vehicons heâs been with want to get railed into oblivion. But taking his time with you feels just as good. Charge is building along his array. He wants to tell you so many things â how youâre so beautiful holding onto him like heâs the center of your universe, whimpering and repeating his name listlessly â or how he wishes this could last forever, that he can forget the war when your arms are wrapped around his frame, no matter how small.
Your optics come back online and meet his. Wordlessly, you beckon him closer. He leans down, now bracing himself on his arm. Your servos find his face. âHave I ever told you how handsome you are?â you ask, nuzzling his cheekplate. Itâs not the first time youâve done so. But at this moment, either from mass displacement or the sight of you sprawled out before him (or both), his spark throbs in his chassis. His array is pulsating with charge. He presses his forehelm against yours. âYeah. You always do.â âGood. Because I love you.â Your lips meet his. The charge explodes. Your valve clamps down on his spike. Sparks shoot through his sensors â his engine roars. The world stands still.
Then, he breaks the silence. âByâŚâ his vox crackles with static. He recalibrates his vocalizer. âBy Alchemist PrimeâŚâ thereâs still a buzz to his words. âWhat was that?â âYou tell me,â you answer shakily. Neither of you move for a while. Diagnostics report: Energon level: 87% He pulls out of you, earning a wince. You loosen your grip on his neck and fall back. His optics widen at the load of transfluid trickling out, valve still twitching. He feels equal parts pride and wonder something so small took his spike. Should he tell you about it? You appreciate greatly when he says whatâs on his processor. Not everyone does. âGood job,â he tells you, petting your helm like the human he saw congratulating its furry companion. Your expression spells confusion. Then, you grin wider than heâs ever seen and pet him back. His engine rumbles in content. âI would die for you,â you declare without a hint of sarcasm in your vox. He laughs nervously. âPlease donât, Lord Megatron would kill me.â âThen Iâd kill him first.â âBut youâd already be dead.â âIâd come back as a ghost.â He laughs again, twice as nervous. âAnyway, was it⌠good?â âYou blew my back out.â âI â what ?â âYou rearranged my guts.â âWait, are you about to offline-â âHuman euphemisms.â âOh.â âIt means it was the best frag of my life.â âI⌠oh wow.â He allows you to pull him back on top. âYouâre the best I could have asked for.â His cooling fans are blasting. âUmâŚâ âYouâre my favorite blueberry popsicle.â âUh, thanks?â âI love it when youâre blue in the face.â More energon rushes to his cheeks.
âOh, um â you too!â Frag - that didnât sound smooth. He hasnât been this bad since he was newly forged. âRaspberry and blueberry,â you press your helm against his. âMy favorite mix.â You kiss him again, less desperately â finally satiated for the next cycle. Or at least a few groons. âCan you cuddle in this form?â OrâŚdo you have to turn back?â He hits his chassis with pride. âAnother groon wonât hurt me â Iâll do just fine..â âAw hell yeah!â He lies down and you quickly take your place at his side, burying your face in the crook between his neck and his chassis. You let out a hum when his digits stroke your back. He can sense the minuscule hairs on your plating. They tickle.
A klik passes by, but you canât seem to sit still. You push his arm away, readjust yourself, then pull it back in, only to start again a nanoklik later. âEverything ok?â You make a noise of frustration â so adorable it makes his spark ache.
âGive me a sec,â you mutter.
He watches as you get up to fetch your blanket and pillows. âUh, I donât think thatâs a good idea. I barely managed to clean up before coming over.â âDonât matter.â You cover his side in them. âI just want to cuddle you.â He bites his glossa. Youâre too sweet for your own good. Once comfortable, his servo comes back to stroke your skin. You shiver. âAre you cold? Do you want me to get the heating pad?â âNo. Youâre warm enough. It just⌠feels nice to be with you this way. I meant what I said. I do love you. Maybe not on Knock Outâs level â heâs known you before my great grandparents were even born.â He affectionately taps your helm. âI mean, yeah â but what does that have to do with us? Do you humans have a monogamous contract or something?â Your expression says it all. âOh,â he drawls. âUh â it doesnât mean that you canât be with us, itâs that-â âIâm Megatronâs first and foremost,â you say, looking away from him and straight at the wall. âI⌠yes. But I mean that-â âIâm together with everyone. I know that.â You turn your attention back to him. âAnd no, it doesnât bother me. I simply want to give you the praise you deserve. And the energon. Man, you need that so badly.â Resting your helm atop his chassis, you flash him a warm smile. âI love you. Donât you ever forget that.â
#transformers x human#transformers x reader#transformers prime#valveplug#maccadam#tfp breakdown#tfp breakdown x reader#heatverse
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Can you please give us your full match breakdown if you have the time? I love reading your thoughts and it helps me learn so much about the game.
hi anon - thanks! okay, here are my general thoughts below the cut:
tl;dr it's not a castrophic loss but if you look at the trend of league matches, we saw it coming. february is the one month we have to get our shit together before the champions knockout matches start! so there's more to learn from a loss than a win at this stage! this is do or die time for pere đ
so we have to note that it's the first home loss ever at estadi johan cruyff and it was against levante, a team that i've discussed a lot on my blog as being an example of a good team that has fallen from grace. it's women's team budget was cut and the team sold off all its top players, and levante is now facing potential relegation in the league.
this is a levante who fired its previous coach (who is facing serious allegations against him) and so you could say that levante has that "new coach bounce" feeling about them. they had a gameplan (low block and attack on counter) and they executed it well.
with that background, it was obvious that pere would be playing the "b" team, meaning mostly squad players. now when we talk about rotation in the team and that includes using bench players for matches against these lower ranked teams. they need to get minutes and game time and these are the "safer" matches to play. because at the end of the day, thankfully there's really no major consequence to the loss here but we know more about what areas the squad need to work on.
having said that, pere got his tactics wrong with this line-up. it felt like they hadn't played together and weren't on the same page with each other. now even when you play your "b" team, they should at least be able to anticipate each's others runs and be unified in the plan to break down a low block. that didn't happen here tonight and that's on pere with a lack of training against this type of defense from the opposition.
as evidence of that, there were too many moments when passes were mishit because of lack of anticipation of player runs or a player was on a run and then had to double back because the player with the ball was a step behind and they had to catch up. the reason we practise rondos and these small sided drills it to minimise this. but i saw way too much sloppiness today.
we need to be more disciplined. you saw errant passes or shots on goals when our players were getting frustrated, either due to a lack of calls by the referee or after time wasting by levante. you can't let opposition tactics get under your skin like that.
can pere please rest aitana for once? you can't start aitana and play her for 90+ minutes match after match and expect her to be effective as a leader for this "b" team. the same goes to caro who has just come back from injury. having said that, they had some great crosses, but we couldn't finish them...
by that same token, you can't throw on alexia and ewa and expect them to clean up your mess if the tactics are messed up from the start.
this is the most extreme example of what we have been battling with all season. there were so many matches with a weak first half and where we didn't score until the second half or get our flow going until the second half. it was too little, too late tonight.
we need to be more clinical on finishing. salma missed chances, aitana missed chances, esmee missed chances, kika missed chances, alexia missed chances. caro missed chances. it wasn't flowing for anyone. this has likewise been an issue since the beginning of the season. 47 shots and only 1 goal to show for it is unacceptable!
and to drill down on scoring, we need to be better on set pieces like corners and free kicks. we had 18 corners, 18! you can't have that many opportunities and not capitalise on them!
i can't put this loss on ellie but this is why we need more reps for her because we need to build up her confidence so that she's in total command of the defense and we don't have incidents like the second goal. by that token, not a great defensive performance. we can't ball watch and we need a better understanding as a unit. engen was okay in the first half and had a few mistakes in the second. but patri is injured and it doesn't help engen to say she's washed and be overly critical. just like everyone else, there are areas where she can improve too!
anyway, like cata says, with this team to the death, so let's watch the game tape back and make damn hell sure that we are learning from this! đ
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Rook as a companion banter episode seven : Lucanis
Banter written with my Rook in mind. Read more about him here.
Part 1 (Neve) | Part 2 (Bellara) | Part 3 (Davrin) | Part 4 (Harding) | Part 5 (Taash) | Part 6 (Emmrich) | Part 7 Lucanis |
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Lucanis: âYou eat garbage.â Calais: âI feel like Iâm being accused of something?â Lucanis: âNot literal garbage but I saw you fish out a flat sandwich from your pack the other day and eat it like it hadnât been in there for two days.â Calais: âIt was still good. The cheese was a little hard and sweaty though.â Lucanis: *Shuddering*
Lucanis: âWhat do you like to eat?â Calais: âI like fries and chicken and fried chicken.â Lucanis *quietly whispering* âAyayay..â Calais: âI also like fried fish.â
Calais: âI liked that salad you made.â Lucanis: âItâs a Nevarran recipe. Blood orange salad.â Calais: âIâd had it before, but it was never this good.â Lucanis: âEvery salad is better with cheese and some kind of nut.â Calais: *chuckle* Lucanis: "What's funny? ..Oh." *sigh*
Lucanis: âArenât most Nevarrans vegetarian?â Calais: âMost, yes.â Lucanis: âBut not you?â Calais: âNo. Iâm only just really discovering that food can be something besides sustenance. I want to experience as many flavours as I can.â Lucanis: âIâm glad youâre having fun.â Calais: *fondly* âI blame you.â
Lucanis: âWhat about drinks?â Calais: âI like almost everything, but I donât drink alcohol. Always just kind of tastes like paint thinner to me.â Lucanis: âWhat about warm beverages? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?â Calais: âIâll take tea over coffee any day.â Lucanis: âWho hurt you?â
Calais: âYou know, Lucanis, I appreciate all the effort you make to take care of us.â Lucanis: âSomeone has to. Itâs a miracle you didnât all contract some disease before I was here to cook for you.â Calais: âI didnât have much choice.â Lucanis: âNo?â Calais: âRations are rations. We just ate what we were given, back at the Necropolis.â Lucanis: âThat explains a lot, actually.â Calais: âSo your food is a real treat. Just wanted you to know how much Iâve been enjoying it.â Lucanis: *Warmly* âThank you.â
Lucanis: âDonât even think about eating that sandwich you still have in your pack. I saw you take it with you when we left.â Calais: âItâs just a cheese sandwich, it stays good for a while. Maybe a bit stale but-â Lucanis: âUnacceptable. If you want to eat that at least let me toast it for you.â
Calais: âHey, Lucanis?â Lucanis: âYes?â Calais: âWill you teach me how to cook?â Lucanis: âYou never learned?â Calais: âNot really. I mean I can fry an egg just about, and I read books about it, but I see the most wonderful illustrations in those books, that make my mouth water. I want to be able to make those!â Lucanis: *Chuckles* âSure, I can teach you.â
Lucanis/Spite: âSpirit One reminds me of home.â Calais: âWhat was home like, Spite?â Lucanis/Spite: âIt was home. Where I belonged, until she did this to us.â Calais: âIâm sorry, Spite. You didnât deserve it.â
Lucanis: âSo how is that you can see Spite when no one else but I can?â Calais: âIâve always been able to speak to spirits in this way. If one has manifested as a possession I can see them hovering around the person theyâve possessed because that person tethers them to this world. Otherwise I have to draw them here with my magic.â Lucanis: âBut Spite can touch things when youâre around, too.â Calais: âHe uses a little bit of my power to manifest that touch.â Lucanis: âDoesnât that tire you out?â Calais: âNo, I barely notice. Heâs very careful.â
Lucanis: âYouâve taught Spite how to paint.â Calais: âActually I didnât teach him anything. He just.. took a brush and went for it.â Lucanis: âHe seems to like it.â Calais: âI think itâs a way to express himself when heâs lost most of his ability to do so.â
Calais: âYou have fun painting donât you Spite?â Lucanis/Spite: âYes! Many colours giving shapes to emotions!â Calais: âAnd your colours are so well chosen.â Lucanis/Spite: âYes, he likes it!â Calais: âI like it very much. Can I have one to hang on my wall?â Lucanis/Spite: âNo! Its mine!â Calais: *laughing* âIt was a compliment, I like it so much I want to look at it all the time.â Lucanis/Spite: *snarling* âFine! Pick one! But only one!â
Lucanis/Spite: âThe Spirit One is hurting.â Calais: âOh, thatâs just my leg. It always hurts. Donât worry.â Lucanis/Spite: âPerhaps we can help.â Calais: âHow?â Lucanis/Spite: âWe can fly. We can carry!â Calais: *laughing* âAs exciting as that sounds, itâd be a little impractical. But thank you, Spite.â
Lucanis: âYou seem fond of Spite.â Calais: âIâm fond of you too, Lucanis.â Lucanis: âI know. But Spite listens to you. I spent the best part of a year with him and he hardly ever listens to me.â Calais: âWell I do speak to spirits for a living. Itâs kind of my thing.â Lucanis: âMakes being around you hard, he constantly wants to speak with you.â Calais: âIâm sorry. Iâll try to engage less.â Lucanis: âNo, itâs alright. It makes Spite calmer to talk with you. I had an actual night of sleep the other day, after he spent all evening talking with you. I think youâre good for him.â Calais: âHeâs adorable, once you get past all the anger.â Lucanis: âI enjoyed your company, last night.â Calais: âAnd I yours. That was some very good tea you made.â Lucanis: âItâs no problem. Iâm glad you enjoyed.â Lucanis/Spite: âShould have kissed him!â Calais: âWhat?â Lucanis: âNo! Nothing, please, ignore him.â
Lucanis: âYouâre getting better.â Calais: âAt what?â Lucanis: âCooking. For a while I wondered if my lessons were actually landing, but that pot roast you made yesterday was delicious.â Calais: âThank you. I learned from the best.â Lucanis: âWell-â Calais: âAnd the most handsome.â Lucanis: *clears throat* âIâm not sure thatâs relevant.â Calais: âHelps me pay attention to you.â Lucanis/Spite: â*cackle* He thinks youâre handsome!â
Lucanis: âCal, would you maybe like to learn how to dance?â Calais: âDance? Why do you ask?â Lucanis: âI was taught how to dance for social occasions and official parties. Itâs a fun way to exercise. You said you struggled with regular work outs, this might be easier, for your leg.â Calais: âYouâd do that for me?â Lucanis: âAfter everything youâve done for me and Spite? Of course.â Calais: âItâs not transactional, Lucanis. But yes, I would like to learn. Thank you for thinking of me.â Lucanis/Spite: âHe does it a lot!â
Calais: âKind of sad we donât have music to practice dancing to.â Lucanis: âI suppose we could give Spite a violin and see what he produces.â Calais: âI like my eardrums in tact, thank you.â Lucanis: âYou think it will be that bad?â Calais: âDo you remember when he tried to play my piano?â Lucanis: âAh.. say no more.â
Lucanis: âYou seem quiet, ever since we returned from Treviso.â Calais: âYou let Illario live.â Lucanis: âYes. I donât have enough family that Iâd happily execute whatever shredded pieces of it are left.â Calais: âFamily isnât always blood.â Lucanis: âAnd blood isnât always the answer.â
Lucanis: âMi amado, I would like to take you to Treviso soon, meet my grandmother officially. Sheâs invited us for tea.â Calais: âAre you sure? She didnât seem to think much of me when we rescued her.â Lucanis: âSheâs going to have to get used to you, whether she likes it or not.â Calais: âWhat do I even say to her? âHello Mrs Dellamorte Iâm in love with your grandson?ââ Lucanis: âIâd leave out the question mark at the end.â
Calais: âPapi Chulo.â Lucanis: *Hard exhale* âWhat?â Calais: âViago said I should call you that, that it was a cute Antivan nickname for oneâs lover.â Lucanis: *Deep sigh* âYou donât listen to what Viago says. Ever.â
#dragon age#datv#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age veilguard#lucanis dellamorte#Rookanis#rook companion banter#lucanis dragon age
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COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel âŠâË.â PROLOGUE: A PHONE CALL AND A NEW BEGINNING [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
come what may masterlist | formula 1 masterlist
Red Bull Sebastian Vettel x Red Bull intern & Webber girlfriend!Reader
SUMMARY: Sebastian breaks up with Hanna and Y/N, his best friend, offers him to go to her hometown to try disconnect from everything. However, things take a turn for the worst when Mark Webber, Seb's teammate and Y/N's boyfriend, calls her and starts thinking she's cheating on him with Vettel.
WORD COUNT: 7337
WARNINGS: Angst, curse words and bad language, such a toxic Mark Webber, mentions of death, cancer and suicide
TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @residentdemonhunter @astronomyandfrogs @herdetectivetheorist @prttylight @i-love-sirius-black7 @dreamauri @03071987 [feel free to join the taglist!]
VEE'S NOTES: I absolutely adored writing this, so I hope you like it reading too! If so, feel free to comment me your thoughts, as well as rebloging it since I'd appreciate that a lot! Thank you so much for reading in advance <3 âł MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST
Š VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
Linz, Austria January 15th, 2010
"Sometimes I wonder if, besides whether I deserve everything I've achieved, I'm actually doing good enough to keep it. I mean... do I deserve my position at Red Bull, or are they just keeping me because Seb was the one who got me in, and now I'm also Mark's girlfriend? And about that last part... am I really what my boyfriend deserves, or, like dad says, is it just a passing fling of a few months where I only want to sleep with him as some sort of stress relief? Seb says that, as long as Mark makes me happy, that's what matters, but... does Mark really make me happy? Or is it..."
"I'll open the door, Dad!"
Louisa's voice snapped you back to reality.
Carefully, you put away the journal he had given you for your twenty-first birthday, which had served as your therapy ever since, in the nightstand drawer. Then, you jumped out of bed with an energy you hadnât felt in a long time and cheerfully walked over to your desk. You carefully moved aside the scattered notes you still hadnât put away despite the semester ending two weeks ago and made sure everything looked as presentable as possible. Your straightened hair fell over your shoulders, though your bangs needed a little fixing, nothing you couldnât adjust with your fingers. You also applied some lip balm, more to add a bit of shine than to keep your lips hydrated. Lastly, you adjusted your clothes as best as you could, trying to relax as much as possible and, most importantly, remind yourself that he would be more than happy to see you, no matter how you looked.
You knew that Sebastian Vettel was just your best friend, but in some way, you always tried to appear as perfect as possible before him to show you were worthy of his friendship.
You knew that, no matter how much Sebastian had cherished you since you both met in 2008, when you joined Toro Rosso as an intern while he was already a driver, he was better than you in every way.
The door suddenly opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and revealing your two younger sisters peeking through the gap.
âWhy are you taking so long?â Amelie, 15, inquired. âItâs not like your boyfriend just arrivedâŚâ
âYeah, yeah! Why are you getting all pretty?â The youngest, Louisa, 8, chimed in. âSeb is already downstairs waiting for you. Heâs talking to dad and uncle Hans about football, and Iâm so boredâŚâ
âShut up you idiot,â Amelie responded, giving her a light shoulder tap. âDonât listen to her,â she turned to you. âWhat theyâre actually doing is grilling Sebastian about why heâs here today and, more importantly, why heâs staying with us for a few days.â
Your eyes widened in surprise. As far as you could remember, Seb hadnât mentioned anything about staying over.
âWhat do you mean, staying with us? Seb said that?â
âUncle Hans thinks heâs just a friend, but dad believes youâre sleeping with him while also sleeping with Mark,â Amelie retorted.
âHow the hell would I be sleeping with Seb?!â you shouted, making your sisters step inside the room and slamming the door shut. âThatâs⌠ridiculous, thatâs what it is,â you added, trying your best not to curse.
âBut if dad says it, it must be true, Didi,â Louisa replied, a bit annoyed. âYou know dad never lies to us.â
âListen to me, both of you,â you cut them off. âI need you to behave and promise me something.â
Amelie and Louisa exchanged curious glances before looking back at you.
âI donât want you to mention Mark in front of Seb. No jokes, no side comments about how much you dislike him⌠nothing. Got it?â
âWhy canât I tell Seb I donât like Mark if itâs the truth? Do I have to lie to him?â Louisa asked with her characteristic innocence. âI like Seb a lot, and I donât want to lie to himâŚâ
âBecauseâŚâ
âIf youâre hesitating that much it must be because you really are sleeping with Seb.â
âAmelie, shut it! Louâs here!â you scolded, glancing at Louisa.
âWhat does sleeping with mean? Does it mean youâre dating?â Louisa asked, looking at you one again with a mix of curiosity and doubt.
âSeb doesnât have a girlfriend anymore, okay?â
Your statement left your younger sisters stunned. Louisa had liked Hanna quite a bit, and she had always been nice to her whenever they met. Amelie, on the other hand, even though she had liked the German woman, started wondering why that same German, who had seemed so in love with his girlfriend, had suddenly broken up with her.
âSeb isnât with Hanna anymore?â
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and give them a convincing answer, even though you didnât have one herself.
âYeah, Seb isnât with Hanna anymore,â you replied as calmly as possible. âDonât ask why because he didnât give me many details other than, well⌠that he needed a break.â
âDoes Mark know about this not-so-surprise visit?â Amelie asked, crossing her arms.
Your heart skipped a beat. If there was one thing you hated about your middle sister, it was how nosy she was for a 15-year-old. If she was like this now, you didnât even want to imagine what sheâd be like in a few years.
âNot everything revolves around Mark, Ame,â you brushed off the question because you didnât know how to answer that no, your boyfriend had no idea about this visit, which you were more than thrilled about. âSeb is my best friend, and heâs going through a lot. And do you know what good friends do in bad times? Theyâre there for each other.â
âYeah, yeah, whatever you sayâŚâ Amelie replied, unconvinced.
Louisa, who was about to say how happy she was that Vettel was there with them and how much she preferred him over Webber as your boyfriend, was interrupted by their fatherâs deep voice calling from downstairs:
âY/N Y/L/N, get down here! Your guest is tired of waiting!â
You quickly checked your reflection one last time, grabbed your phone, and, before opening the door, turned to your sisters with a stern look:
âYou two,â you pointed at them, âno jokes today. Not a word about Mark or anything related to him.â
The youngest nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly as she headed for the stairs. Amelie, however, simply shrugged and smirked mischievously.
âIâll think about it,â she said before following Lou down the stairs.
âAmelie!â you hissed under your breath.
âFine, fine. I promiseâŚâ
Rolling your eyes, you made one final check to ensure you looked perfect before stepping out. Your heart pounded uncontrollably as you descended the stairs. You tried to push aside any thoughts that could make your reunion with Sebastian awkward, or let your nerves get the best of you.
However, everything seemed to go to hell the moment your eyes landed on the German.
Sebastian was there, chatting animatedly with your aunt, Johanna, who was chopping vegetables. You were taken aback to see him with his sweater sleeves rolled up, still wearing his Red Bull beanie, as he carefully cut something.
Afraid your friend might catch your staring, you quickly glanced at the dining table, where your father and uncle were still engrossed in the football discussion Lou had mentioned. Your sisters were at the other end of the living room, turning on the Wii console, likely to start a game of Mario Kart and try to get Seb to join them.
You looked back at the driver the moment you heard him laugh, probably at something your aunt had said. He looked so natural, so comfortable, as if he truly belonged in your family. He hadnât changed much since the last time you saw him, nearly three months ago, but you suddenly felt a strange sensation in your stomach, similar to the anxiety you got during exams, but for an entirely different reason.
The more you observed him, the more you noticed how tired he looked. How⌠sad he seemed. And somehow, in a way you couldnât quite explain, that made you feel absolutely awful.
Or perhaps you were beginning to admit what you had never acknowledged to yourself in order not to ruin the friendship you had always needed but never truly had.
âAh, Y/N! Look who I put to work. Heâs better than me at cutting onions. You should tell Seb to come visit us more often, so he can help me when your sisters donât want to.â
Seb turned at the mention of his name. The smile he had missed so much appeared on his face the moment he saw you. Before you could say anything, he closed the small distance between you at an incredible speed and, without a word, embraced you.
You remained still for a few seconds, surprised and unsure of what to do. The contact completely unsettled you, but as soon as he started stroking your hair, you relaxed and returned the hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and pulling him closer.
âYou donât even have an idea of how much Iâve missed you, Y/N,â he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your head.
âI missed you too.â
And you have no idea how much, you thought, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
Why did your entire being seem to change, becoming something so complicated and inexplicable, whenever he was near?
If only he knew what that farewell at the last Grand Prix of the season had meant to youâŚ
When you pulled apart, the driver studied your face carefully. There was something about you that felt a bit unfamiliar⌠different. He couldnât tell if it was your hair, a little shorter since the last time he saw you; the dark circles under your eyes, more pronounced than they should have been after three weeks of vacation before starting your final university semester; or the evident weight loss.
âI really wanted to see you again,â he forced himself to say instead of asking what had happened to you to make you look so⌠different.
You forced a small smile and lowered your gaze, embarrassed by not knowing what else to say. You had thought of telling him that he looked great, because, in your eyes, he always did, but decided against it, considering the reason he had come to visit.
âSo they put you to work, huh?â you finally said, gesturing toward your aunt, who was watching them while continuing to prepare dinner.
âNot really. I volunteered,â Seb replied with a smile. Johanna was about to say something, but the young man interrupted her. âItâs the least I could do after you let me stay here for a few days.â
You swallowed hard. You were more than happy to have your friend stay with your family for a few days, but⌠why couldnât you remember anything about that conversation?
âAnd let me tell you, heâs an excellent volunteer. If only Mark were more likeâŚâ
âYou donât have to treat him like royalty, Johanna,â you cut off your aunt before she could say more. Seb blushed and started nervously playing with his hands. âHeâs justâŚâ
âYes, I know, your friend,â the woman replied, apologizing to you with a glance. âBut, as your friend, he is also our guest, and he deserves the best. Besides, he doesnât complain about my excellent taste in music, unlike someone I knowâŚâ She added, glancing sideways at her husband.
Seb chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter without breaking eye contact with you.
âAt least itâs better than those weird songs Ricciardo used to play when we were at Toro Rosso. Do you remember when he got obsessed with playing Nessun Dorma before every race?â
âOh God, donât remind me. I love classical music, but I still have nightmares about that.â
You both laughed at the memory of the year you met, when you had become each otherâs biggest support. Everything had changed, perhaps too much, in those short two years, but what mattered most was that you still had each other, no matter what.
At least, for now.
You tried to step a little closer to Sebastian, but the sound of your father dragging his chair and moving toward you made you step back shyly.
âWell then⌠whatâs the plan, Vettel? Are you staying here for a few days?â
Seb nodded nervously at Bernhardâs question. Even though he knew your father well and had met him countless times, he always felt nervous whenever they shared the same space, especially when they had a conversation.
âWell⌠yes. If thatâs okay with you, of course,â he quickly added, stepping closer to the older man. âI needed to get away from Switzerland for a bit, and even more from Heppenheim⌠to clear my head. And, to be honest, thereâs no one else Iâd rather spend this time with.â
His gaze shifted to you, who were trying to process his words. You kept glancing nervously between Bernhard and Sebastian, afraid one of them might say something inappropriate.
âOf course, kid,â your father finally answered, giving Seb a pat on the back. âYou know youâre more than welcome here. Hell, I should pay you extra for taking such good care of my little girl when youâre away!â
âDadâŚâ
âI do it gladly, Bernhard. Iâve already told her, but in case sheâs forgotten, let me say it again: I love spending time with Y/N.â
You lowered her gaze, embarrassed by all the attention you were receiving, and especially by the scene unfolding before you. You didnât need to look up to know that Seb had his eyes on her, just like your father. You also knew that your aunt was probably muttering some comparison between your best friend and your boyfriend, and that your uncle would soon join in.
Sebastian took a chance and, while continuing to talk with Bernhard who, due to his worsening health, had quickly taken a seat on one of the dining island stools, wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
To their surprise, no one objected.
âUh⌠Dad?â you spoke up, your voice small and hesitant as you carefully removed Sebâs arm and leaned over the kitchen island.
âSomething wrong?â
âWould you mind if⌠if Seb and I went for a walk?â You asked timidly. âAnd would it be okay if we had dinner out?â You added, this time addressing your aunt.
Johanna set down what she was doing and turned to you. She narrowed her eyes slightly, inspecting the pair of friends. Then, she placed the knife on the cutting board and turned to you with a smile.
âWhy are you asking me? Youâre twenty-one, almost twenty-two, sweetheart,â she answered, now turning to Bernhard, who agreed with his sister-in-law. âYou donât need our permission to go out, Y/N.â
You opened her mouth to respond but immediately closed it again. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, standing out even more against your now pale skin. You stared straight ahead, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sweater to avoid saying anything inappropriate again.
To hide the fact that your insecurity and discomfort had, in some way, worsened since certain events with a certain person.
âI think Y/N just wanted to check in case you were making extra food for dinner, Johanna,â Seb intervened. You met his gaze, silently thanking him for stepping in. âBut if youâre worried about anything,â or Y/N, he thought to himself, âI promise to bring her back at a reasonable hour, safe and happy.â
Johanna raised an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Hans and Bernhard exchanged knowing looks, probably misinterpreting the Germanâs words, as they suddenly started chuckling.
âDonât even think about setting a curfew for my girl, Vettel. Youâre a Formula 1 driver, and my daughter is six months away from graduating university. Youâre both adults, for Godâs sake!â Bernhard laughed, trying to keep a straight face.
âWe just donât want you getting into trouble,â your uncle added. âIâm a lawyer, but I wouldnât want you two as clients, especially not for free.â
Sebastian widened his eyes, unsure how to take the comment. You, on the other hand, just tried not to die of embarrassment, silently praying that the German was taking everything in stride.
âNot to doubt you two, but, you know⌠trust is a dangerous thing.â
You can say that again, you thought, remembering the man twelve years older than you who, during your entire winter break, had barely reached out more than twice with phone calls that didnât even last five minutes.
"Well, I think it's best if we start heading out," Seb commented as he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. "Come on, Y/N," he said, taking your hand while waving goodbye to your family with the other. "We won't be late, I swear!"
Your sisters said their reluctant goodbyes, thinking the German was going to play with them. Meanwhile, Hans and Bernhard started making bets about what would really happen between the two of you that night.
Johanna was the only one who walked you to the door, carefully adjusting your coats, scarves, and hats as if she was your mother.
"Have fun, you two, you deserve it. And you, Seb, don't think youâre getting out of helping me tomorrow. You still have to teach me that lemon cake recipe you always say your mother makes."
"Donât worry, Johanna," Seb replied while holding the door open for you. "Iâm saving my morning for you and your cooking sessions."
The woman smiled, delighted to have the German around, and said goodbye to you once more.
As soon as you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your faces. You took a moment to inhale and exhale, relaxing and feeling, for the first time in a long while, free. More than anything, you felt like yourself. Seb walked beside you, unable to stop smiling, grateful to be in his best friendâs hometown, with you by his side, helping him get through the rough patch caused by his breakup with Hanna.
"Do you always blush that much around your family, or is it just when you have company?" Seb asked after a while, nudging you playfully with his shoulder while keeping his hands in his pockets.
"Don't start with that, Seb! You know I can be a little shy sometimes..."
"It's okay, I already knew that," he interrupted. "I think it's really cute when you blush."
"Sometimes you're unbearable, you know that?" you shot back, playfully.
"I know, but you love me anyway."
It wasn't a question, but a statement. One you couldnât argue with because she completely agreed.
And that, more than comforting you, made you worry more and more about your relationship.
Despite the recent snowfall, the streets of Linz were busier than you had expected. The ice-skating rinks were packed, and to your surprise, the winter market stalls, forming a kind of fair that attracted people of all ages almost daily and which you loved visiting, were overflowing with people.
Although taking Seb there had been your original plan for his first day, you had decided to do something more intimate with him instead, something you hadnât done in a long time, not even with Mark. However, you knew your relationship with the German was special enough to share something so personal with him without regretting it afterward.
"Since this is the first time youâve come to visit me, Iâve put together a little tour so you can really get to know my city," you explained, looking at him. "That way, when you leave, youâll know Linz as well as I do. And maybe, if one day you bring someone here..."
"Youâre going to show me what tourists donât usually get to see, arenât you?" he interrupted. "I mean⌠promise me youâll show me every last little corner, even the ones way out on the city outskirts. That could really come in handy someday."
"No problem. Iâll show you everything you want," you replied, flashing him a proud smile.
He laughed at your comment. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he awkwardly brushed his right hand against your left one. You blushed and tried to move it away, but Seb didnât let you, he ended up taking your hand, not caring that you were just friends and that you had a boyfriend.
Because you were just that, friends. No matter how much he wanted it, he could never, in his life, date someone like you. Because while Mark was already a man with a clear path and a well-established career, he was just a twenty-something still learning from every mistake he made.
With your hands still intertwined, Sebastianâs gaze roamed the streets, the people, and the buildings surrounding them.
"This place is beautiful, and peaceful in its own way despite the bustle. I can see why you love it so much..."
You nodded, feeling your heartbeat speed up. Linz wasnât the best city in the world, nor did it hold many good memories for you since your motherâs suicide and your sudden move to Spain. But, at the end of the day, it was your home, and hearing him appreciate it meant more to you than you could ever admit.
You walked in comfortable silence for a while, stopping every so often so you could point out your old school, your university, and even your favorite cafĂŠ, the one you used to go to when studying at your aunt and uncleâs house became too chaotic.
However, just as you were nearing the place you wanted to take Seb, he broke the silence with a question that, while not entirely unexpected, was the last thing she thought he would ask.
"How are things with Mark?"
The casual question made you slow your pace slightly before quickly recovering and catching up with Sebastian.
"Theyâre⌠fine," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know, the usual. Heâs in London, Iâm here, we call each other..."
Donât lie to him, Y/N.
"And does that make you happy?"
"Yes, of course."
You wanted to tell Seb the truth, but you couldnât.
This time, he was the one who needed support, not to listen to complaints and tears about a relationship with a questionable age gap and an even more questionable dynamic.
"And how are you doing after everything with Hanna?" you asked, changing the subject and hoping you hadnât overstepped. "Ever since you called to tell me what happened, Iâve been worried, but I didnât want to push..."
Sebâs expression darkened slightly. He let out a sigh that you were sure he had been holding in longer than he wouldâve liked, staring straight ahead as you walked.
"Weâre okay. Iâm okay," he corrected himself. "Nothing weird happened or anything, itâs just thatâŚ" he trailed off, possibly choosing his words carefully before continuing. "We ended things amicably, you know? No hard feelings, no fights, nothing like that."
"Well, Iâm glad to hear that," you replied, choosing your words carefully as well. "It caught me completely off guard because⌠I donât know, it seemed like everything was fine. You two were together for three yearsâŚ"
"Yeah, three pretty good years, but I think we realized we were only staying together because we were comfortable, because it was our routine, not because we actually loved each other." He paused, looking at you. "She never said it, and neither did I, but I get the feeling we wanted completely different things in life, and that was hurting us, even if we didnât mean to."
"And that makes it even harder..."
"Exactly," he admitted, giving you a bittersweet smile. "But I feel like it was the right decision for both of us. Itâs just that⌠making such a risky choice after thinking about it for so long, and wanting to do the right thing, is tough. Honestly, right now, being alone again is really difficult, but I guess itâs just a matter of time before I get used to it."
You didnât know what to say, and you had no clue what deeper meaning lay behind Sebastianâs words.
"You wonât be alone, Seb," you managed to say, trying not to get nervous. "You have me."
He looked at you, his body relaxing slightly as your steps fell back into rhythm.
"I know. And, even if you donât believe it, that means much more to me than you can imagine."
For a moment, nothing and no one else existed, just you. You stared at each other, lost in each otherâs eyes, as thoughts raced through your minds. Thoughts that, if spoken aloud, would haunt them for the rest of your lives, shattering everything you knew and had between you.
It wasnât until you cleared your throat and quickened your pace that the moment broke.
"Come on, weâre almost there. I have a reservation at seven, and I donât want us to be late."
"Wherever you say, my dear tour guide," Seb replied.
After walking for a few more minutes, you stopped in front of a restaurant tucked away in a small alley. Sonnengarten, garden of the sun in German, was written at the top of the façade, painted in a warm yellow color. Along with the soft lights illuminating it directly and the hanging flower baskets, it invited people to step inside. The instrumental music playing, what seemed to be rock from the '60s and '70s, was the cherry on top.
âWell, here we are,â you said, visibly excited as she entered the restaurant.
Seb watched you, noticing the special sparkle in your eyes.
âThanks for bringing me here. Itâs obvious this place means a lot to you.â
âIt does,â you nodded, a small smile on your lips. âMy mother used to bring us here every weekend. We always switched up our orders because, well, we loved, and still love, trying new things, but my dad always ordered a schnitzel,â you explained with excitement. That only made Seb feel even more grateful that you had brought him to such a special place. âMy sisters and I would always try to convince him to try something different and share some of our food, but he always refused and made up some silly excuse.â
âSo, this is like⌠a sacred place for you, right?â
âYes, very much so. But since my mom passed away, we havenât come back. Actually, this is the first time in years that Iâve come here to eatâŚâ
Your statement made Sebâs chest tighten. He knew how Rosalie, your mother, had died nearly eight years ago. He was fully aware of the impact it had on your life, which was precisely why he was more than grateful that you were sharing this detail, this part of your life, this seemingly important family tradition, with him.
His friend. His best friend.
âReally, Y/N, thank you for bringing me here,â the driver said sincerely.
Before you could respond, a middle-aged man appeared in front of you. He quickly approached you and hugged you, a gesture you gladly accepted.
âMy dear Miss Y/L/N! Itâs been so long, little one! You finally decided to come eat here again⌠it was about time!â
âIâm really happy to be back as a customer, Matthias,â you replied kindly.
The manâs eyes shifted to Sebastian, whom he openly scanned from head to toe. Once he recognized him, his eyes widened. After all, it was widely known in the city that Y/N Y/L/N was not only an intern for one of the most successful Formula 1 teams of the past year but also lucky enough to be working with one of the sportâs rising stars.
âWell, well, Sebastian Vettel!â the man exclaimed excitedly, offering his hand to the German, who shook it with a smile. âAre you two dating?â he asked curiously.
âNo, no! Heâs just a good friend of mine,â you said quickly, avoiding Sebâs gaze. âMy⌠boyfriend,â you managed to say, barely containing youR embarrassment, âis the other Red Bull driver, Mark Webber.â
âOh, well, no problem!â Matthias laughed heartily, giving Seb a friendly pat on the shoulder. âAny friend of our Y/N is a friend of ours. Now, come on, Iâll take you to the Y/L/N family table. Iâve been reserving it since Y/N told me she was coming.â
Sebastian observed you as the waiter led you to a table in a corner by a large window. You simply shrugged and smiled, feeling proud to see how happy and, most importantly, how at ease the boy seemed.
You couldnât help but feel a little nervous and special at the same time when, before you could sit down, Seb pulled out the chair for you and pushed it in gently once you were seated.
âWell, Miss Y/L/N, Iâll be back in a bit with the dishes I know are your favorites. Enjoy your evening.â
The waiter winked at you and, once he was far enough away, you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed by the scene you had just lived through.
âOh god⌠I canât believe he thought we were together,â you murmured. âEveryone here knows Iâm with MarkâŚâ
âWell, maybe they think weâd make a good couple.â
Seb laughed at his own comment, and you shot him a death glare, though it didnât last long as the corner of your lips curved into a smile.
âDonât start with that too.â
âIâm just joking, Y/N,â Vettel said with a satisfied grin. âBesides, if people think weâre together and we get, I donât know, good tables like this one,â he pointed at their spot, âand free pastries like the ones the bakery lady gave me near your house today, I wouldnât mind pretending weâre a couple.â
You rolled her eyes but couldnât stop the flicker of warmth that bloomed inside you as you imagined a hypothetical situation where you and Seb were together, where you shared more than just friendship.
âWell, I think itâs time we have a slightly more serious conversation, so no boyfriends, exes, or fake relationships,â you said as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. âWhatâs the plan for this year? Do you think you can win the championship?â
âThatâs the goal, my dear," he chuckled, pouring himself a glass of water and taking a sip. âFor now, I think the car is good, and we have a strong team, but you know how things can goâŚâ
âThe important thing is that you have what it takes, Seb: talent and ambition.â
He smiled, a little shy at your compliment, and adjusted himself in his seat.
âSo, you better be ready to put up with me every time you win,â you continued playfully.
âOnly if you ditch Mark so we can celebrate properly.â
Sebastian immediately realized he might have messed up with that comment.
You, instead of responding, did your best to force a smile and act like you hadnât heard what the German had just said.
âBy the wayâŚâ the driver spoke carefully, knowing he might be treading on dangerous ground. âWhen are we going to plan something? I came here, but you know⌠plans like we used to make when we were at Toro Rosso and before you started dating MarkâŚâ
You didnât know what to say. You hesitated before answering, thinking about how things had changed since you were single and he was in a relationship with Hanna, who had always been wonderful to you and never minded Sebastian and you hanging out together. She had even tagged along on some of their outings, something that made you feel terribly guilty but, at the same time, too bad to refuse given how kind both of them were to you.
âI donât know, Seb. Things are⌠complicated, different⌠Itâs nothing you donât already know.â
Itâs obvious there are things Seb doesnât know. Donât fool yourself.
âWell, weâll come up with something,â he replied, trying to believe his own words. âWe could go out after a race, grab something to eat⌠Or, I donât know, during the summer break I could take you to the karting track where I used to go as a kid and see MichaelâŚâ
You couldnât keep listening because it hurt. The idea of doing such personal and meaningful things with Sebastian was difficult to process, especially considering you were dating Mark, and no matter how much you tried to talk to him about it, he wouldnât take it well. You didnât deserve that kind of attention, even though it was the only way someone had ever shown her⌠affection, love, or any of its variations. Mark had barely paid you any attention since you started dating, something you had noticed in other couples but had never experienced yourself.
Seb kept talking, but the sound of your phone ringing, a childish melody set by his sister Louisa, snapped you back to reality.
Your heart clenched when you saw Markâs name on the screen.
Your stomach twisted, anxiety creeping in, the weight of everything you hadnât told anyone, not even Seb, suddenly pressing down on you again, returning in full force as if it had never left, not even when Webber seemed to have forgotten about you.
âAre you going to answer?â Seb asked, tilting his head slightly as he noticed how doubtful you were.
You didn't move. You couldn't. You weren't ready to face a call from your boyfriend after weeks of not hearing from him, especially not in the situation you were in.
And even less so considering who you were spending time with at that moment, and how stubborn Mark had been about your relationship with Sebastian ever since you started dating, even knowing that you were, in reality, just very good friends.
âItâs just⌠Itâs Mark,â was all you could whisper.
âAnd are you just going to let it ring? Come on, Y/N, heâs your boyfriend. Itâs not like heâs going to kill you if you answer.â
âIâll call him when we get home,â you swallowed hard, feeling your hands starting to sweat.
âY/N,â Seb said, sounding more authoritative than he would have liked. âItâs just a call. Whatâs the worst that could happen?â
If only you knew...
âCome on, Y/N, pick it up. If he's calling, it must be important.â
Your fingers trembled slightly until you finally decided to press the answer button.
You forced a smile, even though the only thing you wanted to do at that moment was cry and tell Sebastian the whole truth. Instead, you put the phone to your ear and answered, trying your best to keep your voice steady.
âHello, MarkâŚâ
âDamn, itâs about time you answered. Do you mind telling me where you are? Iâve been trying to reach you for days and days, and youâve just ignored me.â
Itâs a lie, Y/N. He hasnât called. Heâs manipulating you because, once again, heâs forgotten about you...
âIâm out,â you replied, controlling everything you said while looking at Seb, who had started talking with Matthias. âIâm having dinner.â
âAnd who exactly are you with?â Mark asked disparagingly, totally suspicious of you.
You gripped the phone tightly and opened your mouth to respond with the first excuse that came to your mind. But before you could, Matthias started talking too loudly with your companion:
âYouâre such a gentleman with our Y/N, Sebastian! Are you sure youâre just friends?â
âJust friends, Matthias, really,â Seb replied cheerfully, although alert to you, who seemed terrified.
âSebastian? What exact Sebastian, Y/N?â
Your blood ran cold when you heard the aggressive tone Mark was using on the other end of the phone.
âMark, itâs not what you thinkâŚâ
âWho the fuck are you with, Y/N?â Mark exploded. Even Sebastian and Matthias, who were still talking, seemed to hear the yelling coming from the phone. âAre you with Sebastian Vettel? Is it the Sebastian Vettel Iâm imagining?â
âMark, please, let me explainâŚâ
âExplain what?â the Australian's voice started getting louder and angrier. âThat you went out to dinner with him as if that was the most normal thing in the world?â
Seb, noticing the sudden change in you, both in your mood and body language, became alert. He turned his attention back to the waiter, this time giving an excuse after he placed all the plates on their table so that he could leave and give you some privacy.
Your tense posture and the fact that you became so silent, just listening to what his teammate was saying on the other side of the line, didnât go unnoticed by him, and he knew there was more between them than what his friend wanted him to know.
âTake good care of her, Sebastian. Y/N deserves the best.â
Seb smiled kindly at Matthiasâs words, and his eyes followed him until he was far enough away. His eyes then returned to you.
Something wasnât right, and it was creating a feeling of internal rage in Seb that he hadnât felt in a long time.
âMark, Iâll call you when I get home, okay? I donât wantâŚâ
âSo youâre with him, right?â the Australian spat, not letting her finish. âSebastian Vettel... Out of all the damn people you could be with, youâre with himâŚâ
âMark, please⌠Let me explainâŚâ You started, your words already bordering on pleading.
âThink about the kind of girlfriend you are, Y/N,â his voice, though calm now, you knew he was about to start throwing poisoned darts that would torment you in the weeks to come. âWhile Iâm busting my ass working, training, doing everything I can to move the damn team forward, youâre out there with the guy you claim is your best friend, going on dates. How would you feel if it were the other way around, Y/N?â
âItâs not what you think,â you whispered, unable to control the tremor in your voice.
âOh really? Then what is it? Because to me, it looks like you're acting with another man the way you should be acting with your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?â
Donât believe his words, Y/N... Heâs trying to convince himself that itâs your fault just because heâs ignored you for almost a month...
âMark, heâs my best friend, and youâve known that since before we started dating. I havenât hidden it from you, just like Iâm not hiding anything from you now.â
Sebastian, paying close attention to every word from you, felt his heart drop at what you had said, especially the tone you used.
You mattered to Sebastian, just as he mattered to you.
âI wouldnât take a girl to the city I grew up in if she was just my best friend, leaving my girlfriend feeling like second best, but hey, to each their ownâŚâ
You sighed, unable to stop looking at Seb, hurt by the words Mark had just said, even though you convinced yourself, despite knowing you were lying to yourself, that the Australian cared about you enough to consider you a girlfriend.
Oh my God, Y/N, you havenât even met his parents yetâŚ
âYouâre being unfair,â was all you could say.
âNo, if anyoneâs being unfair here, itâs you, Y/N,â replied Mark. âYouâre selfish, and you think of no one but yourself.â
âI donât want to keep talking about this, MarkâŚâ
âOf course you donât. Because you donât want Seb to know what youâre really like,â Webber said harshly. âMaybe I should tell him myself. Do you think heâd believe me? Would he still want a bitch like you if he knew the real you?â
Your stomach dropped at what Mark had just said. You didnât know what to say; you didnât know how to contradict him because you knew it was impossible to make him think otherwise.
The worst part? Sebastianâs face went completely pale, which made you worry even more about what your friend might now think of you.
Without saying anything else, and while you still faintly heard the Australianâs reproaches, you ended the call, throwing the phone harshly on the table and unable to control your hands, which were shaking more and more.
âY/NâŚâ Seb spoke, unsure of how to approach the conversation he wanted to have with you about what had just happened.
âItâs... It doesnât matter,â you corrected yourself. The last thing you wanted was for that heated conversation you had had with Mark to ruin your time with Seb, especially your stay with the German. âLetâs eat and let everything else rest, okay? Iâve been planning this for weeks, and I donât want to ruin it because of a conversation that never should have happened.â
Seb didnât seem entirely convinced by your words, and even less by your attitude. He knew you were broken inside at that moment, and nothing hurt him more than knowing he didnât know how to help you.
âY/N, if somethingâs wrong... you can tell me. You know that, right?â
You tried to force a smile again, but it was impossible. Instead, tears began to fall from your eyes, and no matter how hard you tried to control them, you couldnât.
âItâs okay, Seb, itâs nothing. I swear.â
Lie to yourself if you want, but donât lie to him.
âReally, Y/N... No matter what you need or when you need it, Iâll be here... Youâre not alone, Y/N, okay? Come what may.â
You looked at your hands, now in Sebâs. His thumb was calmly rubbing over them, something Seb knew perfectly well relaxed you when you had anxiety, like now, when you felt on the edge of a panic attack; or at least, thatâs what the constant feeling of suffocation you couldnât shake off told you, no matter how hard you tried to control your breathing and especially promise yourself that everything would be fine.
Donât be so dramatic, Y/N, Markâs voice echoed in your head in such a scene, making you pull your hands from the table and hide them beneath it, embarrassed.
Sebastian sighed, knowing he wouldnât stop trying to help you, no matter how reluctant you were. If you wanted to end the contact, so be it, but that didnât mean heâd stop trying to make sure you were okay.
âI mean it, Y/N,â the guy insisted. âWhatever it is youâre going through, you donât have to do it alone. Youâre my best friend, and best friends are there to support each other. Just like youâre doing now, with me, with Hanna,â he added.
You looked up at him again, and your chest tightened. How could he be so noble with you? How was he able to say the words you needed to hear at every moment? With Mark, you felt small, as if you didnât matter at all, but Seb... he made you feel like a princess straight out of a fairy tale, whose ending was still to be written.
âThank you, Seb,â you murmured, unable to take your eyes off those blue eyes that so relaxed you. âFor⌠everything.â
âYou donât have to thank me, Y/N. Thatâs what friends are for.â
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that, unlike your boyfriend, if you even were, or ever had been, someone could care about you. You didnât want to give your best friend false hopes, but the way he treated you, how it seemed like he cared...
Why did Seb make you feel like the most special person in the world when the person who was supposed to care about you the most didnât even bother to try?
Sebastian Vettel knew you like the back of his hand, and that was exactly what scared you the most.
#formula 1#f1#sebastian vettel#formula 1 x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#f1 fic#f1 x reader#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fic#sebastian vettel x yn#sebastian vettel fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#f1 fanfiction#sebastian vettel x you#mark webber x reader#sv5#vettel#red bull seb#angst#sebastian vettel angst#sebastian vettel fanfic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#come what may series#x reader insert
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Birthday with you
Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference
Summary: As a late birthday celebration, Harry invited you to meet the people he holds dear to his heart.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: None. Fluff đ
â¨masterlist⨠read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there
...
Harry had invited you to his birthday party at one of his luxurious villas in Italy. The villa, perched on a hill with breathtaking views of the Mediterranean, was stunning. The atmosphere was filled with the clinking of glasses, laughter, and the gentle hum of conversationâa perfect blend of elegance and warmth. But as you stepped inside, you couldnât shake the feeling that you were an outsider. This wasnât just any party. It was an intimate gathering, filled with Harry's close family and friends, all of whom had known him for years. They shared memories and inside jokes you could only wish to be part of. You had never met any of them before, though you knew them from following Harry's careerâinterviews, social media, the occasional tabloid headline. But surface-level knowledge was hardly the same as truly knowing someone.
Harry, ever the warm and welcoming person, had been ecstatic to invite you. The moment you arrived, he stuck close to you, offering fleeting touches of his hand and gazes that reassured you. "I canât wait for you to meet everyone," he had said, his enthusiasm undeniable. You tried to calm your nerves, but with every new face you saw, you couldnât help but feel small. Would they accept you? Or would you just be another fan who had somehow found their way into Harry's world?
You sat quietly on a stool, nursing your drink and watching the lively chatter around you. Stories about childhood antics, tour memories, and quiet moments filled the airâthings you were never a part of. The feeling of being an outsider weighed on you. But Harry had wanted you here, and you couldnât let your nerves take over.
Just as you began to wonder if you'd ever feel at ease, someone tapped you gently on the shoulder. You turned around, startled, and found yourself face-to-face with Anne, Harryâs mum. Her warm smile immediately made you feel a little less alone.
"You must be Y/N," she said, her voice full of kindness. "Harry's told me so much about you. Itâs wonderful to finally meet you."
Your heart skipped a beat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Twist," you replied, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.
"Please, call me Anne," she insisted. "I hope everyoneâs making you feel welcome."
"Everyone's been lovely," you said with a smile, though a part of you still felt that initial intimidation.
Anne gave you a knowing glance before leaning in slightly. "You know, when Harry first mentioned inviting you, I could see how much he values your presence. He spoke about you with such enthusiasm."
You looked over at Harry, who was deep in conversation with a group of people. He caught your eye, offering you a warm smile that melted some of the tension.
"He's been looking forward to introducing you to everyone," Anne continued, "and Iâm glad he did. Itâs always wonderful to meet the people who mean so much to him."
Her words touched you more than you expected. "Thank you, Anne. That really means a lot."
Just as you were beginning to relax, you noticed Harryâs playful voice behind you. "I see youâve met the most important woman in my life," he said, wrapping an arm around his motherâs shoulders.
Anne chuckled and patted Harryâs hand. "We've been getting along splendidly. I was just telling Y/N some stories from when you were little."
Harry groaned, his face contorting in mock horror. "Mum, you didnât!"
"Oh, I did," Anne teased. "I had to let Y/N in on the time you tried to bake a cake and ended up with flour everywhere."
You laughed, picturing a younger Harry covered in flour. "That must have been quite the sight."
Harry rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. "I was seven! The recipe was way too complicated."
Anne raised an eyebrow. "It was a simple sponge cake, dear."
Before Harry could respond, Gemma, his sister, stepped into the conversation with a mischievous grin. "Oh, thatâs nothing," she chimed in, her voice full of amusement as she approached the two of you, her baby cradled in her arms. "If weâre talking about embarrassing Harry stories, Iâve got plenty more."
Harry groaned louder. "Not you too, Gem."
Gemmaâs eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, this is one of my favorites. Do you remember the time when Harry decided to put on a magic show for the whole family?"
Harryâs eyes widened. "Gemma, donât you dare."
But Gemma, clearly enjoying the moment, wasnât about to stop. "Well, letâs just say the 'magician' managed to lock himself in the bathroom for an hour because he couldnât get the handcuffs off. And we had to call Mum to get him out."
You burst out laughing, imagining little Harry, desperate to get out of the bathroom. "That sounds like a real magic trick."
"It was more of a disappearing act," Gemma teased. "The only thing Harry disappeared into was the bathroom, and we had to rescue him."
Harryâs cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but the smile on his face showed he was in on the joke. "I was, like, five!" he protested.
Anne laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I think we should let Y/N hear the one about his birthday party when he got his first guitar."
You couldnât help but laugh even more. It was so clear how much love and laughter surrounded this family. Their teasing, their easy camaraderieâit all made you feel like you were slowly becoming a part of it.
Harry finally gave in, rolling his eyes but laughing along with his mum and sister. "Alright, alright, I get it. I was a disaster as a kid."
"You were adorable," Gemma corrected with a playful grin, turning to you. "But honestly, Y/N, Harryâs stories are just the beginning. Heâs grown up to be quite the character, even if he tries to act all serious now."
You smiled warmly at her. "Iâm starting to see that."
Harry turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening. "Iâm glad youâre getting to know my family. Theyâve been a huge part of who I am."
"I can see that," you replied, genuinely touched by their kindness. "Theyâve been wonderful."
Anne gave Harry a gentle nudge. "Iâll leave you two to chat. It was lovely talking with you, Y/N."
As she walked away, Harry took a step closer, his gaze intent. "I hope Iâm not being too embarrassing," he said, a teasing smile on his face.
"Just enough," you teased back.
Harry laughed, his voice warm and carefree. "Fair enough. Come on, thereâs someone else I want you to meet."
Taking your hand, he led you through the villa, guiding you from group to group and introducing you to more of his loved ones. With each introduction, you felt a little more at home, your earlier nervousness slowly fading. Harryâs world was no longer something you observed from afarâit was becoming something you were a part of. The people he loved were just as warm and kind as he was, and they made you feel less like an outsider with every passing moment.
...
After a few more conversations with family, Harry squeezed your hand and grinned. "Come on, there's a group of people I want you to meet."
You followed him through the lively party, passing by laughter-filled clusters of guests. As you neared a circle of friends, Harry's arm brushed your back to guide you into the group. The familiar faces in the circle weren't just anyoneâthey were his close-knit crew, each one sharing a piece of Harryâs world.
"Hey, everyone, this is Y/N" Harry announced, his voice light but with a hint of pride. "This is basically my second family." His eyes twinkled as he gestured toward them. "And trust me, theyâve all been waiting to meet you."
You smiled nervously, unsure of what to expect. The group welcomed you warmly, their faces open and friendly.
First, Harryâs friend Jeff, with a mischievous smile and an easygoing nature, stepped forward. âSo, youâre the famous Y/N Harryâs always talking about. Good to finally meet you!â He gave you a quick hug, which immediately put you at ease.
Next was Glenne, whose bright eyes and calm demeanour were a sharp contrast to Jeffâs energy. She extended her hand warmly. âItâs so nice to meet you, Y/N. Iâve heard so much about you, Harry loves talking about you know,â she joked, laughing softly.
You chuckled and felt yourself relax even more. âIâm not used to this kind of attention,â you said, glancing at Harry, who was grinning proudly.
Just then, Sarah caught your attention. She was holding her infant daughter in her arms, a soft smile on her lips. âHi, Y/N, Iâm Sarah,â she said gently, her voice tender as she rocked her baby back and forth. âItâs wonderful to meet you. Harry was right your are pretty.â
"Well your daughterâs adorable," you said, blushing at her compliment.
Sarah beamed, her eyes lighting up. âThank you! Sheâs a handful, but a joy. One of the many little wonders of life.â Her baby cooed, and you couldnât help but smile back.
As if on cue, Mitch, with his wild, curly hair and a playful grin, came rushing past. He was in the middle of a lighthearted battle with a toddler, trying to tickle the little one. âHey, Iâm Mitch!â he exclaimed between laughs as the toddler squirmed and giggled. âDonât let this chaos fool you, Iâm a softie on the inside.â
The toddler finally broke free from Mitchâs grasp and sprinted toward Sarah, who swooped them up effortlessly. âItâs like a never-ending game with these two,â Mitch said, shrugging in amusement.
You smiled at the scene, feeling more and more comfortable with each passing second. Harryâs friends were warm and welcoming, each of them with their own.
...
As the group bombarded you with questions about your life, your interests, and how you ended up at the villa, you found yourself laughing and feeling surprisingly at ease. Each question felt like an invitation to share more of yourself, and their curiosity and warmth made you feel more at home with every passing minute.
You talked about your favorite books, the music you loved, and how you ended up in Italy. With every word, you felt a little more connected to the people who meant so much to Harry. The ease with which they welcomed you made the night feel like a celebration not just for Harry, but for the bonds they all sharedâbonds you were now becoming a part of.
However, Harry had been standing off to the side, watching with a knowing smile. As much as he loved seeing you connect with his friends, there was something about the way they all adored you that made him want to have you to himself, just for a moment. He admired how effortlessly you fit in, but he couldnât help but feel a little possessive, wanting a break from the crowd.
After a particularly lively round of questions about your favorite books and music, Harry stepped forward, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes twinkled with playful mischief as he squeezed your hand and, with a teasing smirk, spoke up.
âAlright, as generous as I am, I think itâs time I get a little selfish,â he said, his voice smooth and full of charm. âI want to steal my girl for a moment.â He paused for effect, his grin widening. âIf thatâs okay with everyone?â
The group let out a collective groan of exaggerated disappointment, but there was no mistaking the fondness in their voices. âGo on, mate, weâll let you have her for a bit,â Jeff said with a wink, raising his glass in a mock salute.
Harry smiled at them, giving you a wink of his own, before gently guiding you away from the group. âSee, they understand,â he said with a smirk, leading you toward a quieter corner of the villa.
As you walked away, a warm blush spread across your cheeks from his words. You could feel the eyes of his friends on you, but it didnât matter. The heat of the moment only deepened the connection between the two of you, and Harryâs presence was like an anchor in the sea of social energy around you.
Once you were far enough from the crowd, Harry stopped, turning to face you. His eyes softened as they lingered on you for a moment, taking in the soft blue dress you wore for him. The way the fabric hugged your form made his heart skip a beat. He reached up, his fingers gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The simple touch sent a warm shiver down your spine.
He smiled, clearly appreciative of the effort youâd put into looking beautiful for him. âI couldnât help myself,â he murmured, his voice quieter now, filled with affection. âI just wanted to be with you, even if itâs just for a minute.â
You chuckled, your voice light but sincere. âItâs your birthday party, Harry. The attention should be on you.â
He shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes. âTheyâve worked with me all year. They might be sick of me already.â
You laughed at that, the sound of it filling the space between you two, feeling like it was just the two of you at that moment, away from the chaos of the party.
You leaned in slightly, your faces close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. The distant sounds of the party faded into the background, and in that quiet moment, all that mattered was the intimacy between the two of you. Harryâs gentle touch, his easygoing nature, and the warmth of his presence made everything else seem distant, like background noise.
He leaned down, his lips brushing near your ear, his breath warm against your cheek. âThough I have to say, itâs pretty fun making you blush.â
You rolled your eyes playfully, but the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your attempt at feigning indifference. âYou're impossible,â you whispered, your voice light but full of affection.
Harry chuckled, and you could feel the warmth of his laugh in the air between you. âYou love it,â he teased gently, his fingers still tracing circles on your skin.
Just then, the sound of laughter broke through the quiet moment, and you heard a voice from the distance call out with a teasing tone.
âHey lovebirds, time to blow out the candles on your cake, Harry!â
The playful interruption came from none other than Jeff, who stood with the group, his mischievous grin matching the fondness in his eyes. The others behind him chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment they had interrupted.
You and Harry exchanged an amused glance, both of you still caught in the afterglow of the quiet moment you shared. With a soft sigh, Harry smiled, his hand gently holding yours once more.
âWell,â he said, his grin widening as he gave you a playful nudge, âlooks like theyâre calling us back to the party. But donât worry, Iâm not done with you yet.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âOf course youâre not.â
With that, Harry led you back toward the group. As the bustling crowd and lively chatter resumed around you, the warmth of the quiet moment youâd just shared lingered. It was a perfect balanceâshared laughter, heartfelt conversations, and just enough of Harryâs attention to remind you how much he cared. The party was a celebration of him, but with him by your side, it felt like a celebration of the two of you.
Just as Harry was about to blow out his candles, Anneâs voice rang out, playful and full of motherly warmth. âMake a wish, Harry!â she called from across the room.
Harry paused for a beat, a small smile playing on his lips. He glanced at you, then back at his cake, before he blew out the candles. He already knew what heâd wished forâand he didnât need to make a wish to know it had already come true.
...
AAAHHH!!! HBD to our lovely Harry Styles <3
#harry styles fluff#harry styles husband#harry styles imagines#husband!harry#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fiction#harry styles fanfic#x reader#harry styles au#one direction fanfiction#solo harry#harry styles x gf!reader#harry styles writing#harry styles x you
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hiii! i came across your blog yesterday, and i love your advice. that's why i feel like you would be the best person to ask these questions that I've been having for the longest time (sorry, long read ahead).
I've studied LOA for the past 2 years or so, and even though i have a good understanding of it, there are some things that always trip me up when it comes to shifting.
how do i deal with waking up to the 3d? yes, by assuming that you are in your dr and that you shifted last night. that's the most logical answer. but even though i know that, sometimes it is a lot easier said than done. for example, a few days ago i wanted to manifest shifting by simply deciding i could shift on command and that i am there. i could be 100% sure the day before that it would happen. the whole day, and even a few days after that I'd stay in that state of being a master shifter, and i would feel amazing because of it. but it's like there always comes a point where i wake up to the 3d and i get discouraged (yes, i acknowledge that i am manifesting that reality by saying this, but i finally have to get this off my chest). my thoughts get all messed up and i start spiraling, returning to my previous state. i start questioning myself a bit and feel down. the main reason for that being time.
it took me so so long to figure out this issue about myself. I'd be like: how long is it gonna take? when will it happen? i know i have it in the 4d but when will it appear in the 3d? having it in the 4d isn't enough, i need to have it in the 3d right now. stuff like that. i find it very difficult to formulate my thoughts, but basically I'm in a spiral of:
watching a video/reading a post about LOA/shifting that reminds me of how easy it is -> applying LOA to shifting/any desire in a way that feels good for a few days at most -> starting to question myself after a few days because it hasn't shown up yet in the 3d (which is caused by me forgetting the role the 3d plays and how LOA works) even though i did everything "right" (e.g. letting go of control or the outcome, deciding, not wavering, etc.) -> falling back into a state where i question how i can shift, what i am doing wrong, etc. -> repeat
how can i break out of this cycle?
i think the main problem here is time and in general the 3d.
i know that the 3d is not a measure of my success, only made up of my current assumptions etc. i know that. but it's like i forget it once i step into the state i wanna be in and stay there for an extended period of time.
i always hear people say that "time isn't real" but i still don't really know what that means, how to apply it or how to internalize it. i really need that mental "click" to finally understand it and use that concept in my favor. because my problem is that with manifesting/shifting, after a while i start asking questions about why it's taking so long the 3d. for example, most nights i fall asleep with the assumption that I'll wake up in my dr (while letting go of control and not wavering) the next morning. but when it doesn't happen eventually, i start to question why, because since time comes from consciousness aka me, it should work in my favor.
I'm honestly so lost right now and i would really appreciate some help because I'm spiraling again. I've known about shifting since 2020 but only realized how ridiculously easy it is after joining tumblr this year and yup, i acknowledge that i am desperate to shift, preferably right now. it's not something i admit to anyone or myself because that's basically continuing to tell a story i don't want to experience (a surefire way to fail), but it is unfortunately the truth as of right now.
thank you for reading, i know this was a lot to get through!! (*^^*)
So pause for a second, because Iâm going to tell you something I hope to ingrain in the mind of everyone who sends me an askâand that you need to remember before reading everything Iâm about to say:
YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO SHIFT. The ability is inside you right now. The moment you read this, your mind already knows how to shift. Everyone does.
The moment you accept this, you solve half of your problems.
And then you tell me, "But if I know how to shift, why isnât the 3D reflecting that?"
Well, yeah. You painted the house, and now youâre sitting there watching the paint dry.
Look, watching the 3D closely and looking for results isnât a problem for some people. Some can assume, âIâm already in my DR,â open their eyes, and BAMâtheyâre in their DR.
Some people assume, âI will shift tonight,â and just like that, they shift that night.
Some people let go of their DRs, stop putting them on a pedestal, and they shift.
Some people clutch their DRs close to their heart until their knuckles turn whiteâand they shift.
It sounds a lot like youâre forcing yourself into a method of applying the Law of Assumption that doesnât serve you. Why?? If you recognize that your issue is focusing on time and constantly checking the 3D, work around it. Remove time from your shifting journey.
I donât like assuming I already have something, then checking the 3D and not seeing it there. Hell, I can shift on command, and yet, if I were to lay in bed right now and tell myself, âIâm in my DR,â I guarantee you I wouldnât shift. Why? Because that doesnât work for me.
My dude, change the way you affirm. If affirming in the present (âI already shiftedâ) doesnât work for you, change it! Say, âIâm going to shift.â If even that hasnât been working, let go of implementing time into your affirmations.
Change âIâm going to wake up in my DR in the morningâ to âIâm going to wake up in my DR at some point because I KNOW I can shift.â
Change âIâm in my DR right nowâ to âI canât wait to be in my DR.â
Remove time from your affirmations and assumptions, because thatâs clearly the problem here. Instead of trusting that youâll shift tonight, trust yourself because you already know how to shift. Or trust your mind because it knows how to shift. Trust your awareness because it knows how to shift.
âI fall asleep with the assumption that I'll wake up in my DR (while letting go of control and not wavering) the next morning.â
If this were completely true, you wouldnât be sending me this ask. You wouldnât be doubting yourself as much as you just did in everything you typed. Truly letting go means releasing the need to see results in the 3D.
So, take time out of your assumptions. From now on, say âI will shift.â Or say, âI already know how to shift.â
Your brain then goes: ââŚâŚ???âŚ.uhâŚ.â looking at the 3D all confused âWhen? We haven't shifted!â
And you tell it, âIt doesnât fucking matter because Iâm going to shift eventually.â
Now, letâs say hypothetically, one week passes and you havenât shifted. One month passes, and you havenât shifted. Two months pass, and you havenât shifted.
And then you come back and say, âClover, why the heck havenât I shifted yet? Itâs been (insert amount of time). You told me to remove time as an expectation, so why havenât I shifted yet??â
And Iâll smile at you and ask, âSo youâve been counting the days?â
Let me tell you something about letting goâand hypothetically, ignoring the 3D.
Treat your ability to shift like your fortune. You have a fortune sitting in your bank account right now, and youâre rich. Do you think a rich person checks their bank account every hour to confirm theyâre still rich?
"Well yeah, Clover, because a rich personâs reality already reflects that, theyâre sitting in a mansion with all their riches."
Your fortune, what makes you rich, is your ability to shift. You already know how to shift. Shifting isnât something you learn how to do, just like breathing isnât something you learn how to do. Just like chewing isnât something you learn how to do. It is an integral part of every human being. If you have awareness, then the ability to shift exists within you.
You donât learn shiftingâyou learn yourself.
You learn what makes you shift. What makes you manifest easily. What makes you assume easily. What kind of affirmations your subconscious doesnât argue against. What makes your self-concept skyrocket.
Because everyone is different, everyone shifts differently. What works for Person A might not work for Person B. What works for Person B might not work for Person C, and so on.
Even my reply to you, it might not resonate with you. But thatâs not my fault, and itâs not yours. If that's the case, your job is to look elsewhereâand, in the best-case scenario, look internally because thatâs where the answers always are.
Letâs go over your fix options because I just yapped a lot:
YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO SHIFT.
Remove time from your affirmations and assumptions. Removing time from your shifting process makes it so you have nowhere in the 3D to look.
Stop paying attention to the 3D and pay attention to yourself because whatâs going to shift is your awareness, not the damn 3D. Every time you catch yourself thinking, âOh, but itâs not showing up in the 3D,â remind yourself:
A) You already know how to shift.
B) Shifting is something you can do.
C) It could happen at any moment, so why should anything else matter?
If you were promised a million bucks from a 100% trustworthy source, would you spiral?
One more thing before I wrap this up:
It could be that actively using the Law of Assumption isnât what works best for you. Maybe you work better with visualizing. Maybe you induce the feeling of being in your DR or being a "master shifter." Maybe subliminals work better for you. There is a world of options out there, and it is completely useless to force yourself to do something that's only bringing frustration in the end. Because there is no singular way to shift. There is no singular way to manifest. And sometimesâfor some peopleâwhile the Law of Assumption is always true, focusing on it directly isnât what serves you.
#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting#shifting blog#shifting community#shifting methods#law of assumption#shifting motivation#shifters#reality shifter#shifting realities#reality shift
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Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 5. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Two, Post Three, Post Four]
Sylvia Feketekuty: "I agree, the Necropolis IS gorgeous, I was blessed with wonderful level artists, lighting artists, and a fantastic LD who poured their hearts into making it it." [source]
Sylvia: ""But what does Manfred think about Spite?" Good question. Manfred is curious, as always, and can probably sense Spite's on his own plane of existence (in other words, another spirit.) But Manfred also doesn't have a greatly evolved sense of danger, he might not understand Spite's "moodier" moments. I also think Manfred isn't as sophisticated a spirit as Spite at the start of the game. (Though don't let Emmrich catch you saying that!)" [source, two]
Sylvia on Emmrich: "He was a team effort, and I have to especially thank the writers and editors for their early feedback that helped shape him. Emmrich wouldn't have worked as well otherwise." [source]
Sylvia: "it's a huge honour to work on a character who's someone's favorite anything, let alone romance. (Huge props to Allegra, her actor, who just got Josie right away.)" [source]
Sylvia: ""With Cassandra being our only POV into Nevarra" Poor Cassandra. (Emmrich has such respect for her uncle's books!) "There's a lot of deep respect and empathy for all the ways people relate with death and I appreciate it"" Thanks, that was something I'd so hoped would come through." [source]
Sylvia: "It really was a team that brought Emmrich, the Necropolis, and the rest of its guardians to life, I know everyone would be thrilled to know you enjoyed it so much." [source]
User: "Emmrich's fear of mortality really hit hard. Some of those lines are etched into my heart now. Thanks to everyone who helped put that deeply relatable and human experience into the game" // Sylvia: "It was kind of the core of Emmrich, writing the part where he opens up about his fears, so thank you for sharing that, it means a lot." [source]
Sylvia: "I loved writing the MW branches and letting people be a nerdier flavour of Rook with Emmrich." [source]
User: "Nevarra, Mourn Watch and in particular Emmrich's personal missions were amazing! The whimsical and the grotesque in perfect balance. When I replay next year I'll be looking forward to those missions the most!" // Sylvia: "Especial praise goes to the level designers for tackling a bunch of complex stuff in those missions as we planned them out." [source]
Sylvia: "I think we can all agree Emmrich might be a touch eccentric, but I really wanted his interests and compassionate outlook to be heartfelt, so this is lovely to hear." [source]
User: "I was so nervous about the whole Necropolis gang as I have PTSD and a major fear of death. So when Emmrich confided in Rook about his own fear, I was struck with such an unexpected comfort. I've never heard someone describe my own fears and how they make me feel so perfectly." // Sylvia: "Thank you, Bibi. It's a very familiar fear for me as well, and I find sometimes talking about it can ease things. So I'm very glad to hear Emmrich's thoughts on it were helpful for you." [source]
Sylvia: "I like a good sinister necromancer, but really wanted to try something different with the Mourn Watch, something more akin to a sacred duty." [source]
Sylvia on the Necropolis: "The concept, lighting, and level artists, and the level designer, did so much cool stuff there IMO. Seeing it with the final art and lighting in for the first time was a thrill for me too." [source]
User: "special thanks for the Terry Pratchett references in the form and speech of Vorgoth. I don't know exactly whose idea it was, but it was great!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you so much! Re: Terry Pratchett: oh man, I read nearly every Discworld book multiple times, absolute favorites growing up." [source]
User: "I kinda of assumed that Emmrich just calculates age in academia terms, so no matter how many physical years old your Rook is, you're just a tiny baby who hasn't completed a necromancy phd. "When I was your age" = "When I was a TA."" // Sylvia: "Yes, yes that math checks out." [source]
User on Emmrich: "how refreshing it was to have an argument with a LI thatâs specific to their relationship. It gives the characters such texture and dimension!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you! I liked the tone range we ended up having between everyone, it was more rewarding to do." [source]
User: "Would you guys ever expand more on Nevarra and its culture? I loved seeing the Necropolis, and hope we revisit it. But I'll be honest when I say it made me curious what life in Nevarra is like, and how infused Nevarra's Mortalitasi are with average Nevarran life." // Sylvia: "Since I've left the company, that's not really in my hands, so there's not much I can say. But I get what you mean, because the Mourn Watch are a subbranch of the Mortalitasi with a very special field of study and service. We don't really get much about everyday Nevarra. So whoever tackles that in the future, if they ever do: I think that could be neat. Lots of room to explore different dynamics and customs!" [source, two]
User: "I adore Emmrich, he's so sweet & so thoughtful! I especially adore his love for flowers, and I personally interpreted that as a hint from the writers (you!) that choosing to embrace his fleeting mortality, like the fleeting beauty of flowers, was his "good" path - is that correct? What's your take?" // Sylvia: "I tried really hard to make either choice feel like it could be the right one for him, because I wanted it to be more about a player's own interpretation-and their relationship with him-than author fiat hinting at which one is correct. Also thank you for the kind words! I really liked writing Emmrich enthusing about flowers." [source, two] // User: "He's such a charming character, the vibes of him and Josephine are among some of my favorites in the series, thank you for helping to shape them and for being kind enough to answer my question! Do you, personally, have a preference for which choice Emmrich makes? It's a tough call to make in game!" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid, like a coward, I've not stated a preference because I don't want to accidentally influence people into thinking one was right or not. I'm also in a weird place where as the person writing him, my thoughts are far less subjective in weird recursive ways. If that makes sense." [source]
User: "do you have a favorite flower? It was such a lovely detail in Emmrich's character and it warms my heart to know writing that was enjoyable for you" // Sylvia: "It kind of changes depending on what's growing during the season, but while it's very common, you can't beat the scent of a rose. (Fond of lilacs too)" [source]
User: "Did you have any role in Manfred's wisp being lilac when/if you bring him back? That detail made me bawl đ Manfred was so shaped by "living" with Emmrich that his essence became Em's favorite color?! The only wisp we see to do so?" // Sylvia: "I wish! I actually don't know who did that. I'd assume that colour was chosen by one of our animators, or maybe the LD, so perhaps they added in that detail, which is adorable. (Carly, Derek Wilks, was this either of you?)" [source] // Derek Wilks: "I think that was someone in VFX actually!" [source]
Sylvia: "Glad you enjoyed the graveyard date, our animators and music director did wonders there." [source]
User: "Can you give us any hints on when Dorian spent some time at the necropolis? I need to know their circumstances for science (how old was Dorian back then? I could imagine he had a crush on the professor lol)" // Sylvia: "I'm going to chicken out and not pin that down (sorry.) Since I've left BW, my answer would be even more non-canonical than usual, because that would've been something I'd have wanted to talk over with the other writers. But by that same token, nothing I've said invalidates what you want to imagine." [source]
Sylvia on Emmrich: "I am flattered to hear he has become a favorite romance, the team went all out on him." [source] // Sylvia: "So many people worked on those scenes: animation, art, audio, the editors, and huge kudos to his actor Nick Borraine." [source]
Sylvia: "I THINK Emmrich is 6'2 or 6'3, but you'd need a character artist to confirm." [source]
User: "Do the necromancers of the Grand Necropolis have their own sort of culture? Like perhaps their own rituals for marriage, courting, etc.?" // Sylvia: "Hrm. Good question. I'm sure they have some individual quirks and traditions, like any long-running institution. But they probably don't deviate unrecognizably from the mortalitasi norm." [source]
Sylvia: ""i also played a trans rook, and some of emmrich's content for a romanced trans rook made for probably some of the best romance content of all time for me." That's so nice to hear, and I must give credit to some trans people who kindly took the time to give me feedback that made those lines better." [source]
User: "1) are Tevinter exchange students like Dorian common? 2) what are some of the other fraternities of the Mortalitasi? 3) do members of the Mourn Watch often attend social events with the Nevarran elite like other Mortalitasi?" // Sylvia: "1) Yeah, I think they're not uncommon. I took my inspiration from The Grand Tour, and thought it would make sense if Tevinter sent out some of the wealthier scions to see the world a little, pick up a few new spells. [link] 2) I'm afraid I've deliberately left this one blank, for future people to fill in if/when the need arises. Emmrich complains about the palace necromancers, so we do know there's a special cadre of mortalitasi running the show over there. 3. Absolutely. The MW are pretty prestigious in Nevarra with their running the Grand Necropolis. Much as Emmrich dislikes politics himself, there's probably a lot going on at the top." [source, two, three]
User: "Do you think Lich Emmrich would eventually be told by the Lich Lords to sever his mortal ties and return with them to the depths of the Necropolis? It seems like heâs willing to break all their rules to keep Rook with him" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid defining Emmrich's duties/responsibilities/required conduct as a lich would very much be something I'd leave up to the future (even if I were still at BW.) Kind of too big a topic for me to want to speculate here." [source]
User: "did you have a hand in designing how emmrich looks?" // Sylvia: "Yep, I gave feedback as his design progressed. Our concept artists really got him very early on, though, so it was smaller stuff." [source] // User: "was he at all inspired by Peter Cushing & his hammer film characters? He really gives off van Helsing vibes to me" // Sylvia: "Time permitting I want to do a post on influences, but you got it in one exactly. It was specifically the Hammer films I was thinking about!" [source] // User: "would Rudolph van Richten from Curse of Strahd be on his list of influences?" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid, to my shame, I never read much of the core Ravenloft books, so that one's a no." [source]
User: "I needed you to know that Emmerich's conversation in the Memorial Gardens about his thanaphobia really got me. I could never put the words together of what thanaphobia feels like, and his description is perfect." // Sylvia: "It's a familiar feeling to me as well, and I'm glad it rang true." [source]
User: "I've got a really severe death phobia that's been flaring recently, and emmrich's conversation about it captured the feeling perfectly and helped lessen the weight for me" // Sylvia: "I find at least discussing it can ease it, sometimes, so I'm very glad to hear getting to know Emmrich helped in that way." [source]
Sylvia: "Hezenkoss was a blast to write so I'm glad she clicked for you. "preposterous is what you wore to a bog, Orlesian" Oh wow, Skywatcher! It's been an age, so glad that line stuck with you. That takes me back!" [source]
Sylvia: ""And yet I ask the question - what attracts Emmerich to the Hand? Yes, the answer is âperseveranceâ, but I think this is not fully explored." Do you mean the Hand of Glory specifically? He's intrigued and disturbed by the magic around it, which is why he hones on it, even before he knows its origin" [source]
Sylvia: ""I was wondering if you could tell us about his & Manfred's first meeting or notable moments in their friendship?" This feels like something I'd probably want to leave more to the imagination. And because I'm not a BW anymore, answers would be even more non-canonical than normal. All that said, for some reason, I always pictured Emmrich being alone in the Necropolis the first time Manfred's wisp floated up to him to peer at what he was doing. It just seems a little more poignant that way." [source, two]
Sylvia: "All credit to the team, especially the writers and editors who gave feedback that made [Emmrich] so much better during those early days and beyond." [source]
User: "me + a handful of people were wondering about non-mage mourn watchers! id love to hear your notes/thoughts about them! b/c i didnt remember hearing how they become MW or if reaper uses death magic!" // Sylvia: "Sure! Not much to say, though, I think the MW is likely a mage majority fraternity that accepts a few non-mages who have exceptional skills and temperaments sympathetic to the Necropolis. A warrior of great renown, a rogue of exceptional stealth and quiet, a baby found down there in a grave, and so forth. They'd certainly undergo the same kind of oaths and bindings every Watcher goes through. I always pictured them being provided with the best enchanted gear the MW has to offer too." [source, two]
User: "Hi! About Emmerich being a professorâdoes he teach at a Circle, or is he specifically a professor to other MWers and Mortalitasi? It seems like the MW has some sort of official schooling for its members since he regularly takes on students each year, could you comment on that at all?" // Sylvia: ""It seems like the MW has some sort of official schooling for its members since he regularly takes on students each year, could you comment on that at all? " Sure, but I think you have it, the MW seems to want to raise well-rounded students with a classical education on top of magecraft. In my mind, it was because they saw every MW as representing the Grand Necropolis, so of course they wanted its members to have training in etiquette and history and generally be able to move in polite society." [source, two]
User: "If I remember correctly, we only really see Emmrich use necromantic magic in-game. Are there other types of magic (elemental, healing/spirit, etc) that you think he would gravitate toward?" // Sylvia: "Hrm. He does have a bit of healing magic, mechanically in combat. It coudl work, but somehow I don't think Emmrich would ever be a high-level healer. He could maybe get the basics but it's not his great gift. Something about the gravic magic of the force mage specialty feels appropriate though." [source]
Sylvia: ""would it be possible for a (romanced) MW Rook join Emmrich in linchdom, eventually?" Yes: Rook can try, bc it's not forbidden to seek the knowledge out. (Emmrich makes it clear Hezenkoss pieced some of it together herself, so we've also seen another mage get it almost-right) It is very hard and probably takes decades to accomplish (and of course, there's no guarantee Rook would survive.) But everything written in game points to there being a chance." [source, two]
User: "Iâve been thinking a little about it and I know itâs mentioned in the game he would be interested in visiting - but how would Emmrich feel about visiting the Avvar in the south? They are one of the few groups that show respect for spirits in a similar way and I imagine heâd have a lot of questions." // Sylvia: "He'd probably love it. He'd be fascinated by their relationship with spirits, in the ways it mirrors and deviates from the Mourn Watchers' own practices. (I imagine there is also like a 15% chance he gets into a heated argument with one of them over a fine point of how spirits work exactly.)" [source]
User: "congratulations on another achievement, Emmrich took the silver trophy" // Sylvia: "I was so excited to see we'd gotten the silver trophy! I hope everyone who worked on him sees that." [source]
User: "Is there anywhere we can follow your future work after this account gets shut down ?" // Sylvia: "TBH I'll probably just reopen it it there's any cool news to share since I don't have a website or anything. (I THINK I can just reactivate it?)" [source]
User: "Thank you for Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet, emmrich, Liara and Leigon!!!!" // Sylvia: "Thank you! (I should mention I was only a part of Legion in ME3 - specifically the N7 mission into the Geth Consensus. Great fun to work on that level though.)" [source]
Sylvia: "I'm lucky to have had the chance to bring Emmrich and Josephine to you all with the rest of the team." [source]
Sylvia: ""I still remember when you introduced yourself on old BSN when Lair of the Shadow Broker came out." Wow, you're right I did! That is a blast from the past. Thank you for the kind words!" [source]
User: "Just wanted to say thank you for all the amazing characters you helped bring to life in DA and ME. I really enjoyed Emmrich and Hezenkoss in DAV. The dynamic between them really made me laugh" // Sylvia: "Thanks! That was one of my favorite pairs to write, the history between them meant everything was always a little more personal, which is always fun." [source]
Sylvia: "Thanks Janette, loved writing Hollix." [source]
User: "Elements of Emmerich's costume resemble the Cerberus logo from ME. Is this just a reference or is there something more to it?" // Sylvia: "Gee, I can't say for sure because I didn't make it, but I'd assume that one's just a coincidence (since the Mourn Watch and Necropolis use hexagonal shapes as their primary shape language)" [source]
User: "I can just tell how well Emmrich is written along his fear. I lost my fear of death and dying as I began to honor the dead." // Sylvia: "I do think talking and thinking about these things more than we normally do helps eases the fear." [source]
Sylvia: "Thank you for these lovely thoughts. I did read some books about different customs around death, and I know a little about pagan/occult/magic practices (in a very basic and generalist sense.) So it doesn't surprise me per se, but I am very glad to hear getting to know Emmrich was a positive thing. And I'm also very glad to hear he's someone you feel you can take into the future with you as a helpful friend." [source, two]
Sylvia: ""Does Emmrich have any guilty pleasures?" Huh. Excellent question. I should really be more decisive about my own character, but while I think that could be fun, I'm not sure what it would be. "Oh one other question , is there a part of thedas you wish you could of explored but wasn't able to be in game?" I've always been interested in the sinister sounding Sea of Ash. What goes on over there???" [source, two]
User: "i have a silly little question bc i also love emmrich. was his scene revealing lichdom to everyone meant to parallel a trans coming out or was that accidental? because i felt on an existential level the thrill of revealing who you are, but also fearing people would be afraid or treat you differently. (and then there's strife discussions, and putting up a glamour some places but not others, and the blooming but gentle self-confidence... he is very transgender to me)" // Sylvia: "Not a silly question at all! After writing the scene I wondered if people would see similarities because of those overlapping themes you pointed out: the dignity of bodily self-determination, revealing your true self to those you love, fear of rejection, hope for acceptance. But during the writing, I mostly approached becoming undead as its own thing, because I wanted to ground it in the MW's particular philosophy. I think there's parallels because of the way the human personal is universal, if that makes sense. That said, if this does feel very transgender to you or anyone else (or not), I'm not against varied interpretations. That's one of the cool things about seeing people actually get their hands on your work." [source, two, three]
User: "I'm not sure what Emmrich's hairstyle is, slickback?" // Sylvia: "Good question. Afraid I don't know what it'd be called either. Googling it, slickback LOOKS correct?" [source]
User: "Emmrich has definitely developed a special bond with Bellara and Lucanis, and yet, both of them don't comment on his relationship with Rook! What would you say their reaction was? Their banter was so good I'm sure we'd all love to know what Emmrich had to say!" // Sylvia: "Ah, that one I'm afraid I can't answer since I'm not their writer, and that would've been something I would've discussed with the narrative team together. Sorry!" [source]
Sylvia: "Nick was indeed brilliant!" [source]
User: "Ive got quite bad thanatophobia and Emmerich's writing is one of the only times I've seen that dealt with actually respectfully." // Sylvia: "Thanks very much! I've experienced that fear, and I suspect it's way more common than we think, and I'm glad to hear it felt that way to you." [source]
User: "My HOF was a spirit healer, very kind & very curious, & for years I've considered how that special connection to spirits might lend itself to an interest in Thedan necromancy & puzzling out where spirits & souls begin & end. Emmrich, Manfred/Curiosity and the wisps gave me so much to think about!" // Sylvia: "that's interesting about your HOF. They may've found some kindred spirits if they ever ventured further north." [source]
User: [was] "Dorian was taken over by a nominated writer for veilguard or if his legacy was more of a team effort ?" // Sylvia: "Dorian was in the capable hands of Writer Chee" [source]
User: "Iâm also dying to know what Emmrich did during Rook's stint in the prison-my thought is he not only did the majority of the work on finding Rook, but in leading the team, prob finishing touches on the dagger clone, keeping the team together in Rookâs absence while barely holding himself together at times" // Sylvia: "I think he was indeed having some very sleepless, guilt-wracked nights, working himself too hard, and trying his best on that dagger." [source]
User: "I just wanted to tell you that I love Emmrich's part of the lighthouse the books the fact that it's right next to rook's room and that johanna is in it later and that you can talk to her" // Sylvia: "Thank you! I love what the level artist there did, it's such a cozy den of a place. And I'm glad you liked meeting Hezenkoss afterwards, all praise to the level and tech designers who got her in there." [source]
User: "Are the Watchers overall vegetarian, or was it a personal preference Emmrich developed?" // Sylvia: "I think it's a thing among some Watchers, but not all. Because they think a lot about life and death and the cycle of life, and their place in it, and what constitutes a death they feel comfortable with or not. My actual, original inspiration for it was from an old Call of Cthulhu TRPG book about Miskatonic University, set in the 1920s. There was a great little detail about the campus having a cafeteria that serves vegetarians. And when I read it, I got a little jolt because I was so used to vegetarianism in North America being portrayed as a relatively modern movement. But of COURSE there's always exceptions and cultural enclaves and so on. Just one of those moments you feel your understanding of what we were up to in the past shift a little, even if it felt obvious in retrospect." [source, two, three, four]
Sylvia re: writing Manfred: "Yep, Manfred was my guy too." [source]
Sylvia: "I'm glad you enjoyed meeting our gentleman necromancer. (Full credit to the great feedback I got from the other writers and editors early on, he wouldn't be as good without them.)" [source]
User: "I was curious I know none of emmrich's serious relationships ended up panning out But like did any of them get to the point that him and his partner at the time shared a living space I'm wondering if emmrich has ever lived with anyone besides manfred" // Sylvia: "That's an interesting question. Like a coward I will hedge my bets, but I could MAYBE see a few. Not many though." [source]
#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#bioware#video games#long post#longpost#cassandra pentaghast#my lady paladin#dragon age 5#lgbtq#mass effect#dragon age: tevinter nights#strife
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Alright, everyone ! I was supposed to do that on the weekend, but since you were so curious, let's just reveal the identity of my kids before I go to bed ! x3đŠˇ
Let's start with Toph Mole, the first born ! x3
First of all, there was a HUGE mistake at birth, and the doctor, after a quick look at my babies's body, told me : "congratulations, it's a girl ! đ"
Oh, boy, he was sooo wrong...
Luckilly, since Toph is a sim just like his dad, he grew up reeeeally fast, and very soon enough, he told me himself he is actually a guy ! :3
Then, I entered some sort of "panic momma mode" and I learnt a lot of things I needed to know to take good care of Tophy and to help him. Honestly, I am still learning every day, it really is an adventure... đŠˇ
Ooh ! Also, Toph Mole is totally blind ! (This happens on his father side ! :3) Once again, I had to learn a lot of things to take care of him ! x3
He also loves to play guitar and, well, I guess that's it for Tophy ! Once again, I am so, so, sooo proud of him ! đŠˇ
Alright ! Now for the twins ! x3đŠˇ
First of all, they are fraternal twins, which is why you'll notice some differences between them ! :3
Michael was born a few minutes before his brother Mickey, and, well, he is a troublemaker ! x3
He can rarely stay still for more than two seconds, and he always get himself injured, which scares us way more that it scares him, but anyway ! x3
He wants to become some sort of superheroe when he grows up, and he isn't afraid of anything, not even aliens ! He even loves to splash them with water, their weakness ! x3
He also likes to play some arcade games at Strangetown's saloon, and he likes to "borrow" my Nintendo Switch to play Five Night At Freddy's... Come on, Michael ! You're too young for this ! You have to turn at least into a teenager to play this ! Also, how did you survive night 4 ??? I never managed to survive night 4 !!! xC
Yeah, I suck as an authority figure, I am way too sweet for that ! Lordie says it's not a problem, though. He says children can feel bad when they misbehave just because they know their parents will be disapointed, and not necessarilly because they're are afraid of any severe punishment. Dang, I wish every parent could hear that...
Anyway, Michael is my little troublemaker, and come on, he's still just a kid, he'll probably grow wiser ! Right ? :3
Unlike his brother, Mickey is a very shy kid, and he doesn't like to be on his own. He loves animals, especially kitties for some reason, and he also loves plushies. I have my own collection of plushies, and Mickey loves to play with those. He especially loves my light fury plushie that glows in the dark. In fact, he loves it so much it's practically his plushie now, he even sleep with it at night ! My Mickey is afraid of the dark, so it really helps... He also sleeps with a mole plush Lordie had since he was a kid ! So cute ! x3đŠˇ
Also, even if Mickey doesn't look a lot like a mole person, he's got a higher sense of smell than humans, and he loves to take naps wherever he can smell his family's sent ! :3
Toph, Michael and I are quite protective over Mickey. Fortunately, Lord Mole reminds us that we can't be overprotective, which wouldn't be good for him. It's just hard sometimes, he is just so precious ! x3đŠˇ
Anyway, that's pretty much all I have to say about our three wonderful sons ! đŠˇ
Thank you so much for reading this, it means a lot to me ! :3đŠˇ
Alright, good night now ! đ´đ¨đľ
@silver-heller @phanta-soba @eating-plastic @shinyeeveelynn @jpeg-indulgence @cicidarkarts
#self ship#self shipping#f/o community#fictional other#selfshipping community#selfship#self ship community#lord mole#fictional husband
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hi there! iâve been motivated by previous asks, so i would really like to hear your thoughts on hong luâs relationship with yi sang, as it is currently and how it may progress with the story⌠they have very interesting parallels to me and i wish i could see their relationship explored somewhere other than my own head lol
also, (if you would allow me two questions) do you have any particular thoughts about hong luâs particulars (bachelor and sheltered)? i find the sinnersâ particulars to be really interesting too but i never see them discussed anymore. thanks for your time & have a good day <3
When it comes to Hong Lu and Yi Sang, their relationship is much more straightforward but also much more genuinely positive.
The two don't really interact with each other in any notable manner until Canto 4, which is also where their dynamic Truly gets established. Canto 4's Dungeon is where they both end up connecting, as Yi Sang recognises Hong Lu as someone who heavily resembles Young Ji from the League of Nine, while Hong Lu himself appears to relate to and understand some of Yi Sang's struggles.
This all comes to a head when Hong Lu is the one to recognise the emotional core of what was happening and gives Dante the advice they need to actually reach out to Yi Sang at his lowest.
From this Canto onward, Hong Lu appears to consistently check up on Yi Sang during moments that remind the latter of his past with the League. Hong Lu shows that he not only holds concern for Yi Sang's emotional well-being, but also wants to make sure he doesn't bottle up his thoughts the way he learned he did in his past.
Likewise in Canto 7 Yi Sang is shown to be returning the favor to Hong Lu so to speak, though he's shown to struggle a bit more with processing how Hong Lu responds in comparison.
Outside of these moments, Hong Lu and Yi Sang are shown to generally have a cordial and amicable rapport, both showing curiosity towards each other when they share their respective knowledge and likewise jumping off of each other's observations to add their own. While Hong Lu does tease Yi Sang once or twice, it doesn't read nearly as mean-spirited as some of the shit he pulled with people like Heathcliff and Rodya.
Their relationship is perhaps one of the few on the bus that I can genuinely say is an entirely positive one for both of them. They both clearly care for each other and enjoy speaking with one another, even if they might struggle to understand one another at points. No ifs or buts, they're just straight up honestly decent friends.
It really makes me wonder how Yi Sang is going to take it once Hong Lu's lies are revealed... Compared to a lot of the relationships Hong Lu has with the other Sinners, his bond with Yi Sang seems the most genuine. Will Yi Sang be able to recognise that and will he decide to still stand by Hong Lu side?
Now. As for your second question.
I don't have much to say on Hong Lu's particulars beyond mentioning that their translation is. Interesting to say the least.
According to someone who speaks Korean, the term that got translated to "Bachelor" would more accurately be translated to "Young Master", aka it doesn't really have anything to do with marital status in its original language.
Similarly, the original wording for the "Sheltered" particular is more so an allusion to Hong Lu having a different sense of reality to what is considered normal. It's an interesting specificity that the English translation added that from my understanding wasn't there in the original text.
I don't have much else to add beyond the fact that people are too quick to trust the Manager Instructions as being the ultimate truth on what the Sinners are like. Their description of Ishmael as someone whose "patience runs deep" is proven incorrect in the fucking Prologue where her impatience is directly called out. This shit isn't a trustworthy source of info.
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You have very informative deep-dives in different themes into the HP universe which I really regard highly and always read with great interest! I returned to the hp fandom after almost 10 years of absence, and your analysis on how people in their teens like Sirius and during adulthood feel more drawn to Severus is just so spot on. The way you've brought up the problematic themes especially regarding the marauders' behaviour and the fandoms double standards has really altered my brain cells. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, they are really appreciated and I really admire your patience with the anon hate.
For yall haters, let a woman have their hobbies. There is a lot worse things in which to spend one's time and obsessing about Severus Snape is frankly a very good hobby in my opinion.
Ohhh, thank you so much! âĽď¸
Honestly, I can understand why Severus is a character designed for kids to fear or dislikeâhe really embodies a lot of things that, as children or teenagers, we donât understand or find repellent about adults. Ironically, when youâre an adult, you find those things pretty relatable and even logical. I mean, for a kid who doesnât know what itâs like to be depressed while also having to pretend to be functional because, as an adult, youâre expected to keep it together even when youâre utterly exhaustedâSeverusâs attitude seems inexcusable.
But for an adult whoâs tired all the damn time, has a job they hate, and has experienced the struggle of wanting to break down and cry but having to keep up the facade of being in controlâitâs not just normal; it actually seems like a feat. In the end, kids only hate what they donât understand because they havenât experienced it yetâand, unfortunately, itâs what theyâll inevitably become someday.
And yeah, haters gonna hate, as Taylor Swift says, but thereâs another quote I really like: âLet them talk bad about me, as long as theyâre talking,â or âThereâs no such thing as bad publicity.â I always think about that when someone spends a good chunk of their free time trying to get under my skin.
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Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.
(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#a-qing#jin ling#wen ning#jiang cheng#âHey wait this feels like there should have been way more content for questionsâ Yes. There was.#I was not strong enough to redraw *all* of what was lost. Rest in piece the original (lost to tea related accident)#But I'll tell you all the fun other things that would have been drawn out right here in the tags!#Did you know my longest posting streak was 61 days? And my longest hiatus was 6 days?#Did you know I missed posting on 92 days of those 500 days - meaning I posted 82% of the time on a daily basis?#I'm normal about collecting data. I have so much data on this blog for normal reasons. I'm also so normal about art. The normalest.#Honorable mention for the character rankings: Lan Wangji! for âMost improved in rankâ.#Sorry Lan Wangji fans but until the audio drama I honestly was...pretty indifferent towards him.#I think a huge part of that was due to the fact he's constantly paired up with WWX; who has *so* much charisma and steals the scene#But I've really come to like him a lot more since starting this project. He rose from mid-tier to being in the top ten!#Dishonorable mention: Nie Huaisang. Who fell out of number 1 spot and out of the top 5.#He just hasn't shown up a lot! And my rankings are fickle! They will probably change once I finish the third season!#My favourite comics are: A lot of them! And the ones I have yet to make!#I'm very sleepy at the moment while writing this but I do want to give a huge shout out to YOU.#Yeah! you reading this! Thank you! If you've been here since the first week or just started reading: THANK YOU!#If you've only ever lurked and never even liked a single post but still read my comics: THANK YOU!!#In creating this blog - I have found 500 days of more happiness that I could have ever imagined.#Thank you for joining me on this journey. Thank you for giving me your time and your support.#It means more than any 'thank you' could say B'*)
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The potential friendship between Connor and North is something that really interests me. Would she ever trust truly him? And if she did, what would their dynamic be?
#I think theyâre alike in a lot of ways but different in a lot of ways too#this is definitely not a fully formed thought just an idea I find intriguing#Detroit become human#dbh connor#dbh north#would they be frenemies?#would they bond over their willingness to use violence as a means to an end#I really wish they had made northâs writing better/more consistent#what do you mean Markus can kiss her without her consent (sexual assault actually) and they STILL become lovers#David cage does not respect womenâs stories at all UNLESS theyâre stories of motherhood#itâs the jk Rowling problem#maybe they would be sparring buddies#I think theyâd both like sports. can we talk about android sports for a moment#thatâs such a cool idea. like#how does Android culture evolve after the revolution#how do you make a life after that#anyway bedtime#thank you for reading all this if you did
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@aquataines ohhh absolutely i am soo happy to talk about food as an amalgamation of the uchihas love and the way it haunts them after the massacre. i'm really passionate about this so you donât even understand the can of beans you have opened. i am going to be talking about both canon and filler in this though, because there is lots of supporting canon however filler continues to support and fuel this thought.
growing up with his family, sasuke is very commonly shown at the dinner table with his family eating together, and itâs where a lot of conversations with his family take place. now to start this off, iâm going to point out the obvious that the uchiha canonically are a clan that holds too much love inside of them, which is what develops their sharingan. carrying so much love within you of course needs an outlet to come out. we donât really see the uchiha showing much verbal affection towards each other but sasukes family very obviously loves each other. fugaku even tells itachi that he doesnât wish for words of flattery, but nonetheless to show his thanks and return the love back to itachi for what he said fugaku immediately offers to get him his favourite snack, dango. so we would infer that they communicate their love to each other in a different way. food.
sasuke and his family really share their most intimate moments together when they are in the kitchen at the table. here is where sasuke asks fugaku why itachi doesnât give him much attention while at the dinner table, and fugaku explains that itachi is just not very social, sasuke later admits to mikoto that he thinks heâs unfavoured between him and itachi by fugaku, to which mikoto explains the differences between him and itachi and reassures him that heâs not. itâs where theyâre seen talking most commonly just in general as well, about the sharingan, about training, exciting moments, ect.. the dinner table is where their love is shown when they gather together and eat the food that mikoto has made with the love for her family. itâs where they feel most comfortable to show their love and be honest because in the kitchen is where their love grows.
why is the food their centre of love though? just in general making food for someone is something very special, intimate and ultimately caring. you are turning basic ingredients and foods into something for others to not only to take nutrients from, grow and gain strength from, but also to spend time with them and enjoy the taste of the food you made with care together. you pour the love you have into the food you make for the people you love because you want to see them be happy and healthy. for people like mikoto and itachi whoâre shown to enjoy cooking, itâs something special that they put everything into because not only do they want to see their family eat to keep them alive, but they want to see them enjoy the taste and feel the care and love for them that theyâve stored within the food as they make it. they want to place their love inside their family and have them carry their love around wherever they go and what better way to store their love inside them other than to put it in the food your make for them? mikoto is obviously the main cook of the uchiha household and she makes sure that her family stores the love she puts into the meals she cooks inside of them. she is frequently seen ensuring that her kids are fed, making sure theyâre filled up, making them lunches, giving them snacks and making sure they are eating good food.
itachi as well, in filler, spends the episode finally getting to be around sasuke and bond with him. the day was spent making sasuke happy and sharing the love that he does have for sasuke with his brother, and at the end of the day makes a huge feast for sasuke. he made him so much food to show sasuke that he cares about him and loves him, he wants to see him eat and he wants to see him eat well. he intends to pack him full of his love. not to get into the fact that clearly mikoto would have had to teach itachi how to cook, sharing the âsecretâ of spreading love. now this isnât canon however i personally would like to think (considering how young itachi is here and how much he can make already on his own) that mikoto also had started teaching sasuke how to cook a little as well. this will come back later, which is why i mention it.
the common theme within all of these mealsâ all of mikotoâs dinners, her bento boxes, fugaku and itachiâs dango, and his feast for sasukeâ they are all good, yummy food. theyâre something you want to eat and hold inside you and cherish. theyâre all made and/or given with care, thought, intention and love.
sasuke grew up eating a variety of good tasting and well made food.
after the massacre, though, he changes. sasuke has lost the love from his family, he doesnât have it anymore. sasuke grew up with food being the indicator of love, and grew up with the dinner table being the centre of family and bonding. as a reaction to the loss of his family he couldnât bare to keep storing that love inside him, food as a love language died with them. his family was now gone, and the thought of storing love (read: well made food) inside him after his family was killed was not in the question. after the loss of their love, the only thing he needed to focus on was catching up to itachi to kill him.
here we can see what foods sasuke favours post massacre. ���sasukeâs every move is designed to make him stronger, he approaches his diet with equal intensity.â his diet has changed drastically. from being fed a large variety of yummy, well made food filled with love and care for him to enjoy eating, he goes to eating raw and bland food, anything just to get stronger quicker. you could argue that he just didnât know how to cook, which i canât say he didnât, but as i stated before it seems very likely that mikoto started teaching the boys to cook from a very young age, added to the fact that sasuke intentionally only starts eating food for its nutrients and health benefit, itâs fair enough to infer that he can cook at least some meals that he used to eat, he just canât bare to anymore.
âhe never selects his meals based on what he actually likes.â we look to his favourite foods to eat and theyâre broken down into their health factors. this kid, reportedly, is known to be eating raw tomatoes simply because he wants to get stronger as fast as possible. he does not like the taste of what he is eating. he does not eat food with the intention of enjoying itâs creation. with the loss of his family he lost the will to store himself with love (this is not to say he does not still have love, he has been stored with love all his life, he is an uchiha, he will always be motivated by love), he couldnât bare to continue consuming love filled food so he ate food solely to get stronger. food made with no care, thought, intention, or love. the love of his family haunts him. this is beside the point but i canât even begin to express how heart breaking that is. the uchiha show their love with food and sasuke stops eating food created with love once he loses his family, all the love he had.
sasuke, isolated, left all alone in this village with no friends spent his time from 7 to 12 years old avoiding the love of food. but when he finally finds someone to create a bond with, what does he do?
he offers naruto food. despite what he says, this an olive branch to start forming a bond with naruto. this is him extending care with the intention of filling naruto so that he doesnât go hungry. whether the food was made with love or care doesnât matter because at that moment sasuke put the intention into the food. itâs how he creates bonds, itâs how he shows care and how he shows love because that was how he was raised, he was raised to bond over food, to show care and to love with food.
the uchihaâs love has always revolved around food and itâs woven so into the text that at this point itâs not even a head canon to me, but fact.
#and i know it's silly but not to even get into how the egg ova ties right into this as well.. needing the perfect egg to feed to his brother#ANWAYSSSS#all that to end it off with sns propagandaâŚâŚâŚ.. LOLOL#iâm not joking with that last part tho.. itâs important and vital to the beginning of bonding#and it started with food#thank you for asking though and welcome to my twisted mind#thereâs no way you were expecting (or likely even wanting lol) all this butâŚ.. the uchihas love thru food means so much to me#i'm *really* passionate about it and i donât know how to express it in a concise way#i hope you at least enjoy reading this#the way that i wasn't even trying to write a lot but this literally became a meta#lmao#naruto#meta#jitter bugs u
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