#and wanna stick around /gen...

[failed-inspection]

I just realized I have 124 followers?? Holy shit???? Thank you so much everyone that genuinely means a lot to me waaah

[bluerasbunny]

just a heads up;

our dca fics are currently on an extended hiatus!

i've been phasing out of the dca fandom for a long while now (i do have my reasons, but i'd rather not get into them publically), so i thought it'd be best to say something rather than leave everyone guessing on when the next chapter will be

will i finish them? who knows! maybe if fnaf can capture my attention again

i may post more fics in the future, though they very likely won't be fnaf or dca related.

[ancientnapdragon]

Disciple Shen Yuan during the Qing generation. SY is on Qing Jing and is loved and well liked by (most) of his peers, even the ones off-peak! He only has two problems: 1: Him and Shen Jiu are at each other's throats constantly. It's like worse than a rivalry. People are convinced they legit want to kill each other. While expected from SJ, people are always surprised it's equally instigated and fought by SY. He's normally one of the sweetest people on his whole Peak!

2: SY, even while trying his hardest from his FIRST puberty to stop it, has a TERRIBLE ugly duckling phase. Poor kid has ALL the problems a teenager would feel embarrassed about except like tenfold. He got beat with the ugly stick till it broke. This is something that SJ picks at constantly, too, to try and make him self conscious. (SY is more upset that SJ doesn't even have breakouts, that prick.)

The Ascension of the current gen of Peak Lords is coming up in a few years and their Shizun is trying to pick a successor. It's between SJ and SY. SJ proves his tactical mind and engineers a plot to ensure that SY will be off Peak for at least five years; that way he won't be an obstacle! His plan works and SY has to leave the mountain to chase some maguffin. SJ is made SQQ and everything is peachy keen! He won! Fuck you, SY, you ugly cunt! The five-ish years pass. SY comes back. SJ is there to greet him and subtly mock him. Except. When SY flies in on his sword.

He's hot.

SY is like the hottest man that SJ has ever seen in his life and CQM is FILLED with unnaturally attractive men. SY looks better than a damn succubus. If SJ had less decorum and control he thinks he would explode right where he stood just by looking at him. SY's face, his lips, how his robes cling to his body, even the sloppy tousle of his hair. SJ instantly knows two things:

1: SJ has GOT to get this man under him like ASAP. From the looks of some of the people around him (other Peak Lords, Disciples, rubbernecking strangers) they are all having the exact same thought. That CAN NOT be allowed to happen.

2: SY, from the look he gives to SJ and how he's somehow rude about being polite to him, still absolutely fucking hates him. Which is- SJ doesn't wanna think too deeply about why that makes SY hotter to him for some reason. Some stones are better left unturned.

When Luo Binghe comes to the Sect, SJ is too busy fighting off rival suitors, trying to court SY, and (most importantly) trying to get SY to even LIKE him to start with. So LBH never gets the shitty Shizun experience.

TY for coming to my TED talk.

[bunnwich]

HELLO! Do you have a summary of how you portray Leona's personality in your stories? I'm a big fan of your Leona and Yuu stories and I've read them multiple times www /gen I always feel like you just nail how he would act and say things and you inspire me to work on my own fics and get better at writing scenarios with him. Than you in advance ily🙏 🦉anon

How I Portray Leona in General and in Romance

HI ANON! So I've gotten this question a few times and someone in my discord asked me basically the same thing so I'll share with you what I wrote a few months ago about Leona and the general way I write him. (it's quite funny bc a lot of these things come up in Chapter 7 when we see his dream. I AM CURSED WITH APOLLOS'S GIFT OF PROPHECY WITH THIS MAN ISTG)

I hope this is helpful?? I would like to point out that the way I write Leona is fully based on my biases and life experiences. And that a big part of fandom is projecting what you wanna see in characters while still making them feel like the same character we know in canon, yk? Good luck with your fic writing! And thank you!! mwah mwah.💚 --

So Leona takes himself as a direct person, BUT he hides A LOT. He purposely misdirects people to get a reaction out of them. (Ex: pretending to be incompetent to anger someone) or he's playing with them. HE LOVES GAMES. Everyone is a chess piece, he has to feel in control bc that’s all he has ever had over everyone else; his wits. He’s a dickhead. He will say offensive shit to scare people off.

It’s a test to see who sticks around. He has no reservations when it comes to this. You take him as he is. And despite how some people write him he’s kinda silly? Like dad jokes. Why does he joke so much about eating people, who knows? (He says shit like Namby-pamby ffs) Why are you a 40y/o in a 20 y/o body?

I HC he purposely talks casually and gruff to distance himself from his upbringing. (I like to mix proper language and slang with him bc it feels right? Also lots of animal puns, and nicknames. HE'S CORNY AF)

In general, I don't think Leona is an entirely romantic person in canon, however in my timeline, I do HC that he, like Scar has this “want vs need problem” with connection to others. He thinks it's just praise he wants (or to be king) BUT he NEEDS TLC. What was Scar MOST jealous of at the end of the day?? Mufasa’s connections, a ✨queen✨, a family! BEING KING DID NOT MAKE SCAR HAPPY!! He needs to be needed and in Chapter 2 novella, he admits he HAS to numb himself to not care. I feel like this is something he constantly battles with. Yeah, he's lazy but it's partly bc he’s tired. He’s burnt out.

On the surface, he projects 100% nonchalance. He wants you to think everything he says is just "off the cuff", but it's not. He plans everything!!! He’s a mentor, big bro, caretaker. He is not the best at comforting words but he enjoys being a leader bc people appreciate him and look up to him. Something he never got at home.

Leona and ✨Romance✨

He fools himself into thinking he has the upper hand at first and keeps his distance keeping an eye on the object of his affection. Why would you catch his eye? Well, his greatest strength is picking up on OTHER STRENGTHS. Chessmaster. He is a mentorrrr and caretaker lowkey, he wants others to NEED him and rely on him. HE WANTS YOU TO NEED HIM.

At first, he would place himself in your path, trying to be helpful in a very tsundere type way. But he would still be causal and keep ruffling your feathers to gauge how you feel for him. He guards his heart pretty heavily. And more and more he is slowly collecting info about you he would find more ways for these meetings to happen until he realizes: "Oh shit, I’ve caught feelings." This one is the winner. He’s the king of nonchalance but also...he’s a very overly sensitive person. No doubt he’s freaking out a little, he doesn't wanna screw this up. But, he’d never show it.

I do think he wants to be challenged and given some pushback (insert manga panel about "something being harder to get and therefore is better"), He wants to WORK for it, to prove himself to you that you SHOULD choose him. He wants to impress you. It makes him feel alive. A person who keeps him on his toes.

And once this ”game” of cat and mouse starts to happen. He might start to let his guard down if you are shown you can be trusted with his VERY VERY delicate feelings, that you DO accept his flaws, treat him differently than all others, and see past his gruff demeanor. It is a test of sorts. He is testing that you can “handle” him. MORE GAMES.

He’d let you set the pace though. He won't be the first to give in. To kiss you or confess first. But he would fall first HARD. He’s not been given much one-on-one attention in his life so he would crave that time with you. Physical touch is a big one, but he would not be pushy. He'd tease your boundaries and become addicted to your time together.

But yeah, this push and pull goes on for a while, all the while he’s gauging how you react to this. Memorizing it all.

He’s def one of those texters who erases their sentence like 5 times when they are nervous bc he is cookin' up the RIGHT response to endear you. (Not in a sappy way of course more in a: “I know you miss me, mouse.” snarky sorta way.) Though he can be self-deprecating on bad days. He’ll act confident, though soften up behind closed doors.

I think once he realizes that you have picked up on his simpery and there's no going back...all bets are off. He doubles down, no longer ashamed of hiding it. (Assuming at this point the person has reciprocated these feelings too!) He wants to be yours and he’s not subtle. Someone to be by his side.

Then you get the REAL simp Leona, who lowkey mumbles the sappiest shit to you in his native language when he holds you, (bc he’s still embarrassed to be vulnerable, though this will fade over time) He’ll be your biggest supporter, and wants you around him as much as you can be.

This just keeps going until you're married. Congrats you now have a lion to take care of forever.🦁 Hope this helps!✨

[rusty-noodle]

⋆˚࿔ walking in 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

feat. Your favorite monster trio

hii! I got this totally… original idea…🤥 I'm guessing I'll be writing different versions (this cliché is one of my favorites 🤭 so I can't help myself). This one is very much kidish-sounding? if you read it, it'll make sense what I mean </3 it was super fun to write though, so I don't mind. It's very much giving new poster core too💔 I hope you like it!! <33 v.2 -> walking in v.2 Synopsis: various crew members walking in on you and the monster trio (separately) doing something couple-y luffy-513words sanji-386words zoro-354words CW: Fluff/SFW, implied secret established relationship, no use of y/n, gen-neutral reader, not proof read -noodle

Luffy

The slow rocking of the ship and the soothing feeling of your hands running through his hair had lulled Luffy asleep quite a while ago; his head rested against your chest, snuggled into your sternum. The arms grip he had on you loosened over time as he fell into a deeper sleep. his ragged hat placed on your head. he gave it to you because, first. He loves and trusts you, second. it was harder to kiss him with it on, snuggled up to you the way he is. It was a quiet, uneventful day. The birds that took perch on the ship were chirping peacefully... emphasis on the 'we're' as our red-haired navigator's voice overthrew them.

"Luffy!" she calls out. You could hear her footsteps coming closer to the room you and Luffy were currently sharing

Your eyes widen, panic setting in. What could you do? Hope she doesn't notice? Wake up, the cutest sleeping Luffy? Leave it up to fate?

The doors to Luffy's room quickly swung open

"Do ya' wanna stop at the" Nami spoke, her eyes adjusting to the scene that was displayed in front of her.

"... neering... island...?" she stuttered out slowly

You smiled awkwardly, "hi?-"

You're cut off by a half-fearful and half-exited shriek. Nami practically comes running to sit by you, making herself at home and Luffy, the sound, and the newfound pressure on the bed stirring him awake with a whiny groan

"What is it...?" he yawned, raising his head, his spikey, messy hair sticking up.

"SO!" Nami interrupts once again, "you? with our, clumsy, no good captain? I'm going to need all the details on how you lost enough sanity to where you're cuddling with him," she exclaimed, eyes sparking with joy and a wide smile that reached from ear to ear.

"I'm not that bad," Luffy huffed, wrapping his arms around you again. "They’re perfectly... normally sane," he grumbled, letting out a groggy yawn.

“ah!” A new voice shouted, “nami-swan!? I heard your terrifying scream!” Dress shoes could be heard charging toward your direction.

“not another one…” you mumble under your breath

“who hurt you mademoiselle?!” He pushed himself into the room. similar to the over eccentric girl sitting beside you, he screams like he’d seen a ghost

“Luffy…! GOT A PARTNER BEFORE ME!?” He spoke... much louder than he needed to.

You accepted your fate with a long, drawn-out sigh.

Sanji

The sound of Sanji chopping vegetables echoed through the room. You were behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, your head resting against his back as you two swayed together. You interrupted the tune he was quietly humming

"It smells soo~ good, love," You mumbled into his shirt. arms slightly tighting around him, reminding him how close the two of you were in the moment.

"Does it? well then, thank you" he chuckled under his breath. the sound of the knife skillfully hitting the cutting board stopped a second before he turned around leaning back against the counter to wrap his own arms around your waist. towering over you he leaned down to press a long kiss to your forehead. your small giggle sent a wave of joy through your favorite cook

"mmh" you hum looking into whichever bright eye was visible. he laughs again and leans down once more to deliver a kiss to you lips.

The Kitchen doors fly open, Ussop and Luffy barging in interrupting what peace you two had.

“oh!” You huff, backing away as sanji pulls his arms to his sides,

“I want dinner!” Luffy whines marching into the kitchen.

as Luffy walks away, a starstruck, open mouthed, wide eyed, unbelieving Ussop stood frozen at the door way is revealed.

“Luffy…? Did you just see what I saw?” He muttered out

“huh no?” He hums “what was it?” Luffy continues, looking towards Sanji and you,

“ah nothing!” You interject starting to walk away from him “dinner will be done soon… ill come back then” you smile walking past Ussop giving him a pat on the shoulder as you head out of the kitchen doors, ignoring the quiet pleading of Sanji not to leave him with ussop. Ussop is going to tell everyone, you sighed the doors shutting behind you…. You were right.

zoro

“hey, no! You're sweaty!” You grumble as Zoro tries to hug you

“I'm fine” he growls his hands snaking around your waist forcing you to hug him, muscles flexing in the process.

“oh ah! Please you’re all sticky!” You giggle trying to push him off, and its to no avail, giving up with a sigh you speak again

“you're so annoying…” you grumble under your breath

“mmhm… but you still love me don't you?” He murmured, hands coming down to the backs of your thighs, “can i?” He hums lowering himself next to your ear

“yeah yeah…” you respond letting out another giggle as you try to keep it in, rolling your eyes in the process.

he takes a deep breath before he picks you up, letting your legs wrap around his waist, looking up at you he flashes you a toothy smile

“oh youre too cute love” you hum and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead “do you know whats for dinner?” I ask, my hands coming up to the backs of his neck

“Sanji is making Coq au Vin” Robin said in awe , her arms crossed as she leans into the door frame of the crows nest

you freeze as zoro puts you down, clearing his throat and placing his hands in his pockets

you blankly stare eyes widened, letting out a deep breath “having fun up here huh?” She grins,

“ill meet you two in the dining room later…” and just like that she slipped out of the room, escaping like a shadow in the night…

Zoro laughs “were just glad it wasn’t sanji huh?” He looks down at you and smiles again,

little did you know, Robin is a gossiper… well Nami is… and robin tells Nami everything

have fun at dinner tonight!

—————————————————————————

AK! That was so fun to write, sorry about losing the special little colour coded speech, it mysteriously stopped working for me 💔 if i missed any CW tags, TELL MEE 😭 okay okay thanks for reading love you!!!

[soleilpinto]

Close to You (Ollie Bearman) ⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚

“Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met. I wanna be close to you” (Close to You, Gracie Abrams)‧˚꒰🍷💋ྀིྀི ꒱༘‧

Synopsis: You joined Haas for the love of racing, not knowing you'd find something softer in the fast-paced chaos. Oliver Bearman wasn't part of the plan—just the rookie with a crooked smile and a heart that felt too familiar. But somewhere between camera clicks, late-night edits, and everything unspoken, something real began to grow. And maybe, just maybe, it was worth falling for.

Genre: Fluff, Slowburn, Romance

AU: None

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Social Media Admin!Reader

Warnings: Bearman admitting to credit card fraud.

Note: This idea came on a whim because I didn’t want to listen during my science period a month ago, so I thought, why not give you guys another gift for supporting my Oscar fic? As always, every like + reblog is appreciated because your support is the reason why I continue to do what I love on this app.

You didn’t expect to start the new year as Haas F1 Team’s newest social media hire. But life had a funny way of steering you straight into plot twists, and this one had a name:

Oliver Bearman.

Ollie was sunshine bottled up in human form. He lit up every room he walked into—warm, easygoing, charming in that casual Gen Z way that made media duties second nature to him.

Being the same age didn’t help either. It created a spark you couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard you tried to keep things professional.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you two aren’t a thing yet,” Lia, your closest friend on the team, mused as she leaned back in her chair.

You gave her a look, tossing a scrap of paper her way. She dodged it with a laugh.

“As if. I’m probably just the annoying admin who follows him and Esteban around with a camera and a checklist,” you grumbled.

Francine glanced up from her screen across the room, smirking.

“You’re literally the youngest person here, and pretty enough to be scouted on the grid. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you during media shoots. He’s into you, babe.”

You opened your mouth to respond—but the universe had other plans.

Right on cue, Ollie strolled in alongside Esteban and Ayao Komatsu. Lia’s eyes sparkled as she glanced at you with a smug grin.

“Speak of the devil,” she whispered.

Francine immediately walked over to brief them on the shoot, and as you stood to prep for the long day ahead, she turned back and called out, “Y/N! Ollie’s looking for you!”

You internally cursed her timing but pasted on your most composed smile as you stepped toward the makeshift studio.

Ollie stood mid-conversation with Esteban, but his gaze locked onto yours almost instantly. He excused himself and made a beeline straight to you.

His boyish grin tugged at your heart a little more than it should have.

“Hey,” he said, voice softer than you expected. “Did Francine tell you I was looking for you?”

“She did,” you replied with a quiet laugh. “You need anything? I’m sticking with you most of the day, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Ollie rubbed the back of his neck, a rare flicker of sheepishness on his usually confident face.

“Not really… I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while since the off-season. Wanted to check in. Maybe… we could grab lunch later?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice—and the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

“I’d love that,” you replied, heart doing a backflip. “Thanks, Ollie.”

You nodded toward Lia, who was waving a mic in your direction. “Now go. You’ve got fans to charm on camera.”

He gave a shy smile before walking off to get mic’d up, leaving you stunned but smiling.

Francine elbowed you lightly. “He’s so whipped.”

You didn’t answer—not out loud anyway. But you were starting to think… maybe you were too.

Lunch came as a small break from the whirlwind of filming, shooting, and briefing sessions, and you were more than grateful for it.

The Haas cafeteria was quiet during the midday lull—just a few engineers and staff scattered around, low voices murmuring over bowls of pasta and rice.

You spotted Ollie already seated at a table near the back, two trays set out, one of them untouched. He glanced up the moment you entered and waved you over with a smile that had no right to be as boyish and disarming as it was.

“Saved you a seat,” he said casually as you sat across from him.

“You really didn’t have to,” you replied, trying not to focus too hard on how warm your face felt.

“I know. But I wanted to.”

You busied yourself with your utensils, trying to ignore how those six simple words managed to root themselves deeper than they should have. But Ollie didn’t seem to notice—he was already digging into his food like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.

Halfway through lunch, with conversation bouncing between the new season schedule and the chaos of media prep, he leaned back in his seat with a laugh, eyes shining with that mischievous glint you were slowly learning to recognize.

“Okay, you wanna hear something absolutely mental?” he asked, mouth curving upward.

You raised an eyebrow. “Always.”

“So back in F2—like, peak chaos mode—Kimi and I may have… kind of stolen my trainer’s credit card.”

Your jaw dropped mid-sip of your drink. “What?!”

“Okay, hear me out!” he said through a laugh, clearly reveling in the shock on your face.

“We didn’t actually steal it. He left it lying around when we were staying at this hotel for a race weekend, and Kimi dared me to order snacks from room service. Next thing we know, we’ve got a literal feast delivered to the room.”

You stared at him, equal parts horrified and entertained.

“Please tell me this only happened once.”

Ollie winced. “Twice.”

You smacked your hand over your mouth in disbelief, laughter bubbling in your throat.

“Ollie!”

“We replaced it before he noticed!” he insisted, eyes wide.

“Well… before he formally noticed. I think he suspected it was us when a $48 bill for Haribo and chocolate milk showed up.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said between laughs, your stomach aching from how hard you were laughing.

“But admit it, you’d have done the same,” he teased.

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Maybe. I just wouldn’t have gotten caught.”

For a moment, the two of you locked eyes—and the atmosphere shifted. It wasn’t sudden or overwhelming. Just something soft. Something quiet. Like the kind of silence that settles between two people who understand each other a little too well.

The way Ollie was looking at you now made the rest of the room blur around the edges. It was the look of someone who wasn’t just fond of you… But maybe a little scared of how much.

You could feel the weight of someone’s stare and instinctively glanced over your shoulder.

Francine and Lia sat a few tables away from a few other team members. Lia was leaning forward slightly, her smirk barely hidden, as she whispered something to Francine, who visibly rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“They’re watching us,” you muttered under your breath.

“I know,” Ollie said without taking his eyes off you.

“And you’re not doing anything about it?”

He shrugged with that same signature smirk. “Should I?”

You fought the heat creeping up your neck and busied yourself with your drink again, but Ollie leaned forward now, elbows on the table.

“Jokes aside… It’s nice being around you again,” he said, voice gentler now. “I didn’t realize how much I missed it until today.”

The weight of his words sank into your chest like a stone.

You didn’t have the right words—you weren’t sure there were words for the strange, giddy ache in your chest, the one that twisted every time he smiled at you like that.

Instead, you just nodded, offering a quiet, sincere, “Yeah. I missed this, too.”

And somehow, that felt like the beginning of something neither of you was quite ready to name just yet.

Your camera bag hung loosely off your shoulder as you trudged across the start-finish straight, half-blinded by the rising sun bouncing off the asphalt.

Melbourne's skies were clear, birds were chirping, and the Haas team was already scattered along the track, all bundled up in their branded jackets.

You were still half-asleep when Francine shoved the filming schedule into your hands with a pointed, “Ollie’s segment is your responsibility today. Good luck with the ‘Bearman Broadcast.’”

And here you were—armed with your DSLR, your mic, your dignity (hanging by a thread), and a rookie driver who looked far too good for this early in the morning.

Ollie was already grinning when he spotted you.

“You ready for me, Spielberg?” he called out, adjusting his cap and bouncing on his heels like a golden retriever high on adrenaline.

“Just try not to flirt with the camera this time,” you shot back, hoping your voice didn’t betray how much you meant don’t flirt with me, I’m the one holding the camera. “We don’t have all day.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said with a wink, grabbing the mic from your hand.

God help you.

You hit record.

Take One.

“Good morning from sunny Albert Park! I’m Ollie Bearman and I’ll be your tour guide-slash-mic-hog for today’s track walk. Behind the camera is our brilliant media manager, Y/N, who deserves a raise for putting up with me—”

“Cut,” you said immediately, groaning.

“What? That was wholesome.”

“You’re not supposed to mention me.”

“But it’s true.”

Take Two.

“So here we are on the main straight—where I plan to overtake at least three cars and maybe steal a few hearts.”

You lowered the camera. “Ollie.”

“What?” he said, blinking innocently. “It’s a multi-purpose strategy.”

You pointed at the mic. “Focus on the track, Bearman.”

“Fine, fine. Professional voice. Got it.”

Take Three.

He managed an entire thirty seconds of serious commentary—talking about braking zones and tire wear—before he glanced at you mid-sentence and said, “And right about here is where I’ll lock up after Y/N distracts me with her eyes from the pit wall.”

“Oliver.”

“I’m visualizing race conditions,” he said with mock sincerity. “Very immersive.”

You turned the camera off and stared at him. “I swear if I have to reshoot this one more time—”

“I’m trying to make the fans happy!” he insisted, hands raised in defense. “They love chemistry.”

You blinked. “What chemistry?”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

You could feel your soul leave your body.

Around you, the engineers walking the track had begun to steal glances your way. Then, Ollie’s race engineer passed by and gave Ollie the most resigned dad-look you’d ever seen, like this is your problem now. Esteban gave you a thumbs-up from several meters away and muttered, “Good luck, lovebirds,” under his breath.

You briefly considered using your mic cable as a lasso to throttle your driver.

Take Four.

You didn’t even let him finish his intro this time before he added, “Also, single file is recommended in sector two… unless you’re Y/N, then you’re allowed to hold my hand if it gets too tight.”

You spun around, face flushed, voice clipped. “Cut. You’re walking back to the paddock.”

“I regret nothing!” he called after you as you stormed off. “This is gold footage!”

You flipped him off behind your back.

But when you turned slightly, you caught him watching you with a satisfied grin—like teasing you was better than winning practice.

And unfortunately, your heart agreed.

The track walk had ended, the sun had softened behind the Melbourne skyline, and you were tucked into a corner of the Haas media room with your laptop balanced on your knees, earphones dangling around your neck.

The blooper reel from the morning’s chaos was halfway done rendering when you felt a warm presence hover beside you.

“You editing the stuff from earlier?” Ollie’s voice was casual, but the smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed how not casual he was about it.

You didn’t even look up. “If by ‘stuff’ you mean the seven unusable takes of you treating the mic like a dating app, then yes. I’m editing the stuff.”

He plopped into the chair beside you, knees brushing yours. “Let me guess—you kept the bit about you distracting me on track with your eyes?”

You side-eyed him. “Do you want to get fired?”

“Depends. Would you miss me if I were gone?” He grinned, leaning slightly closer to try to peek at your screen.

You huffed a laugh, but your heart fluttered—traitorously—at the way his shoulder grazed yours, casual like he didn’t even notice. (You did.)

You hit play. The blooper reel rolled.

First clip: Ollie trying to be serious, only to flash a cheeky smile when he mentioned your name.

You groaned, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Do you ever listen?”

He winced playfully, rubbing the spot. “Hey! I was being complimentary.”

Second clip: “Right about here is where I’ll lock up after Y/N distracts me with her eyes—”

You buried your face in your hands. “I cannot post this.”

“Why not? It’s romantic,” he said, and then added, “Kinda.”

You peered at him through your fingers. “You’re a menace.”

“I’m a visionary,” he corrected, then bumped his shoulder into yours again—this time more deliberately. “C’mon, admit it. You love this stuff.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling, and Ollie noticed. His gaze lingered longer than necessary. He looked at you like he was memorizing your expressions in real time—like you were more interesting than his own highlight reel.

The next clip played: Ollie winking into the camera after declaring “fans love chemistry.”

You paused it right on the wink and turned the laptop toward him. “Explain yourself.”

“I have no explanation,” he said, but he was laughing now, eyes crinkling, cheeks flushed. “Also, that was for you, not the fans.”

You shoved his arm again, this time harder.

“Violent,” he chuckled, then leaned in conspiratorially. “You realize every time you hit me, you end up laughing after, right?”

“That’s because I’m trying to cope.”

“With my charm?”

“With your nerve,” you replied, but your shoulder remained pressed to his now, and neither of you moved away.

Another clip rolled. The part where you stormed off and Ollie yelled after you — “This is gold footage!”

You both watched that one in silence before you turned to him and said softly, “You are kind of entertaining when you’re not insufferable.”

He smiled slowly. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He bumped his knee against yours this time, watching your reaction carefully. “Too late.”

You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve nudged him off the chair, called him annoying, and reset the professional boundaries. But you didn’t.

Instead, you hit play again. This time, Ollie leaned in a bit more — enough that his arm brushed yours from shoulder to wrist, and neither of you flinched. The space between you felt smaller than it had all day. Cozy, almost.

You were too focused on not looking flustered when Francine suddenly poked her head in and deadpanned, “Should I leave you two alone, or...?”

You jerked away, immediately pretending to click around the timeline. “We’re editing. Working. Normal things.”

Ollie just smirked and muttered, “Jealousy’s a disease, Francine.”

Francine rolled her eyes and disappeared again.

You stole a glance at him. He was still watching the screen, but you caught the faintest, most sincere smile on his face — like he couldn’t help himself.

And god help you, you smiled too.

The next day, the Haas garage buzzed with energy, a symphony of pre-race sounds. Engineers shouting over the whirr of tire guns, strategists reviewing last-minute simulations, and the rhythmic clatter of tools filled the air.

You stood near the back, camera in hand, panning over the controlled chaos, catching B-roll for the team's socials.

Esteban sat on the folding bench, halfway into his race suit, a bottle of water in one hand and his other tugging at the collar of his fireproof undershirt. Ollie was beside him, zipping up his suit in slow, exaggerated movements that made it clear he knew he was being watched.

He had caught you filming ten seconds ago. And of course, he was going to make the most of it.

You tried to keep your camera steady, focusing the shot on both drivers—balanced, professional, all clean lines and corporate branding. But Ollie’s smug little grin as he adjusted his gloves deliberately slowly was making your job impossible.

“Don’t look at the camera,” you mumbled under your breath. “Just… be normal.”

Esteban caught your muttering and glanced up with a curious brow. “You okay?”

“She’s fine,” Ollie piped up before you could answer. “Just struggling to focus, aren’t you, Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes behind the camera. “Only because someone’s being a menace.”

Esteban snorted. “I feel like I should leave the garage. This feels like a lovers’ quarrel.”

You choked on air. “It’s not.”

Ollie, without missing a beat, winked directly into the lens. “Give the fans what they want, right?”

Your face flushed instantly. “Ollie.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” he said, stepping just a bit closer, enough that his face now filled most of your camera’s viewfinder. “You don’t want to post the boring stuff. You need charisma. Sparkle. Maybe a bit of charm.”

“You’re insufferable,” you mumbled, trying to steady the camera despite your hands practically trembling with laughter.

He just gave you that smug little look—the one where his lips curved ever so slightly, and his eyes glinted like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

Then he dramatically struck a model-esque pose with his helmet in hand, chin tilted up, shoulders squared. “How about now? I’m giving GQ meets motorsport.”

Esteban groaned. “I’m begging you to be serious for five minutes, mate.”

“Five minutes is a long time when Y/N’s this distracting,” Ollie teased, and you nearly dropped the camera from how flustered you got.

“I swear I’m going to start charging you for every take I have to reshoot,” you muttered.

Ollie grinned. “Totally worth it.”

“Y/N!” Lia’s voice rang from behind you just as you were trying to hide your face behind the camera. She strolled in, coffee in hand, expression flat. “At this point, you and Ollie are a full-blown HR nightmare.”

Ollie didn’t even flinch. “And yet, we boost engagement by at least 30%. That’s gotta be worth something, yeah?”

You turned slowly to glare at Lia, who was very clearly enjoying this.

She just smirked. “When you two finally kiss on camera, I’m posting it without a caption.”

You gasped. “LIA!”

Esteban raised both brows. “Wait, finally?”

“I’m not listening to this,” you huffed, already walking away with your camera in tow, ears burning. Behind you, you could hear Ollie call out:

“You still filming my good side, yeah? Because I’ve got a great one lined up after quali!”

Lia cackled. Esteban sighed. You didn’t look back—but the camera was still rolling.

And so was something else entirely.

The paddock was unusually quiet around the Haas motorhome.

You’d been in the back corner room most of the afternoon, downloading footage, trying not to think too hard about the pit in your stomach ever since Ollie failed to get a time in during qualifying. 

A red flag had come out just as he was pushing on his hot lap, and with time slipping away, he never got another shot. The disappointment had been written all over his face when he stepped out of the car.

You watched the interview from the media pen earlier, catching the subtle tension in his jaw and the practiced tone of someone trying very hard to be professional while keeping it together. It made you ache a little, watching him pretend like it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

You weren’t expecting the quiet knock.

Three soft taps on the door.

“Come in?” you called gently, not bothering to look up right away.

When you did, Ollie was already stepping inside, still in half his race gear, the top half of his suit peeled down to his waist, his white fireproofs damp with sweat. His hair was messier than usual, and the moment your eyes met, all the breath you had been holding left you.

He shut the door behind him without a word, leaned against it for a moment like he didn’t trust his legs to move forward just yet.

His usual playfulness, the cheeky glint that lit up every room—gone. Instead, he looked tired. Not physically, but the kind of tired that sat heavy in your chest when nothing had gone right.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he said quietly, almost apologetically.

You stood slowly, walking over to him without thinking. “You don’t need to explain.”

“I just…” Ollie trailed off, dragging a hand through his curls. “I know I’m supposed to shake it off, move on. Rookie year and all that. But that was supposed to be my moment. I’d worked so hard for that lap. And it was… it was there, y’know?”

You nodded, your chest tightening as you reached out and gently touched his arm.

“I know.”

He laughed, but it was a soft, hollow thing. “It’s stupid. There are worse things. But I’m just—God, I’m frustrated. I feel like I let everyone down. Ayao. The team. You.”

“Hey,” you whispered, stepping in closer now, your hand sliding to his wrist. “You didn’t let anyone down. Especially not me.”

Ollie looked down at where your fingers rested against his skin. His eyes were darker than usual—glassier. “Why does it matter so much what you think?”

The air between you shifted. Your fingers curled slightly.

“Maybe because we’re not just coworkers anymore,” you said softly. “Maybe because I care more than I should.”

His jaw clenched. “Yeah. Me too.”

He looked up again, his eyes meeting yours properly this time, and the moment stretched into something wordless. Raw. Honest.

You could see the war in his expression—between pulling you into his arms and holding back for your sake. So you made the choice for both of you, stepping forward to close the distance and pressing your forehead gently to his.

He let out a breath like he’d been holding it all day. Then his hand came up to cradle the side of your neck, thumb brushing softly just below your ear.

Neither of you spoke.

You didn’t need to.

The silence held everything that hadn’t been said out loud yet. All the teasing and playful tension, the shared glances, the near-confessions. This was different. This was real.

“I didn’t get my lap in,” Ollie whispered against your hair, “but this… this feels like something I did get right.”

You smiled into his chest as you finally let your arms wrap around him. “Then we’ll call it a win.”

And for the first time all day, Ollie’s breath came out steady.

The paddock was buzzing.

Shanghai’s return to the calendar meant everyone was high-energy, and media day was in full swing. Between the driver photo ops, camera crews, and sponsor booths vying for content, it was a chaotic symphony of noise and laughter.

But the Haas social media team? Thriving.

You had your camera bag slung across your shoulder and your phone steady in your hand, already in full “content goblin” mode as you called it.

You’d snagged a few chaotic clips of Esteban accidentally knocking over a stack of water bottles earlier and even convinced Ayao to do a finger heart for the camera (after three takes and one very unimpressed sigh).

Now, you were standing near the Aramco mini basketball court — a small activation booth that had become the unofficial playground for half the grid.

“Watch and learn,” Ollie smirked as he grabbed a basketball and turned to you with the full force of a cocky, too-pretty-for-his-own-good grin.

You raised your camera. “Please. If you make all three, I’ll edit this reel to the Space Jam theme.”

He laughed. “Deal.”

You hit record.

The first shot?

Miss.

It bounced off the rim and rolled sideways, nearly hitting a cameraman’s foot. You zoomed in on his expression — a picture of betrayal.

“Solid start, Steph Curry,” you teased off-camera.

Ollie held up a finger, mock-scolding. “That was a warm-up. Don’t put that in the reel.”

“Oh, it’s already in the cloud, baby,” you replied sweetly.

The second shot?

Swish.

Nothing but net. Ollie turned to you with a triumphant grin and raised both arms like he’d just scored a game-winning three-pointer at the buzzer.

“Ohhh, okay. Calm down, LeBron,” you laughed. “You’ve got one more. Let’s see if you’re actually clutch.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “I’m him.”

He lined up. You zoomed in.

Clang.

The ball hit the backboard and ricocheted hard to the side, narrowly missing Lia in the background as she struggles to take photos of him. Ollie looked back at you, wide-eyed.

You died laughing.

“That’s going in the reel twice,” you snorted, lowering your phone just enough to tease him properly. “Once in real time, and again in slow motion with sad violin music.”

Ollie crossed his arms. “You’re evil.”

“Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.”

He walked over and bumped your hip with his lightly, eyes playful. “You better be careful. I know where all your old TikToks are.”

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. I saw that one where you’re lip-syncing High School Musical 2 in a face mask.”

“You are banned from the Dropbox,” you warned, pointing a finger at his chest.

“Too late. I already have the admin login.”

Your jaw dropped, and he winked before tossing the ball over his shoulder — it missed, again.

Francine, who had been watching from the side, leaned in with a grin. “This is either going to end in HR intervention or a wedding.”

Ollie caught your eye.

“Hopefully not in that order,” he said under his breath with a small smirk.

You caught that on camera, too.

Oh, yeah. That reel was going viral.

Golden hour was draping soft light over the circuit’s towering infrastructure, casting long shadows on the asphalt.

Media day had officially wrapped, and the once-buzzing paddock had settled into a more peaceful hum as teams trickled out, staff chatting about the day or heading for team debriefs and dinners.

You stretched your arms above your head, your camera gear finally tucked away in your backpack.

Your phone was packed with content—some of it hilariously unusable, most of it pure gold. You were already mentally editing the basketball reel.

Next to you, Ollie pulled on a Haas hoodie over his team shirt, glancing around as if half-expecting more cameras to pop out.

"Well," he said, offering you a lazy smile, "that was fun. Embarrassing. But fun."

You grinned, nudging his arm. “You’re lucky I’m nice. That last shot was tragic.”

“Please don’t use the violin,” he begged as you both started walking down the path toward the exit gates.

“No promises,” you laughed.

A soft breeze picked up as the city skyline in the distance began to glow. The two of you walked side by side, a comfortable rhythm forming without even thinking about it—one that had been building since winter testing.

His shoulder occasionally brushed yours when he leaned in to talk, and neither of you moved away.

“You eaten yet?” he asked casually, glancing over.

You shook your head. “Not since lunch.”

He nodded. “Let’s do room service. My hotel’s menu has these weird bao buns Jack swore by. We can debrief, edit stuff… you know, multitask.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You’re inviting me to your room under the pretense of bao buns and editing?”

He laughed, that familiar, breathy laugh that made your stomach flutter. “Yes. Entirely professional. Bao-first, always.”

You agreed.

You were cross-legged on the sofa while Ollie sat on the floor, leaning against the bed as a spread of room service trays covered the table in front of you—bao buns, fried rice, chicken skewers, and an experimental tofu dish that neither of you dared to try first.

The TV was on mute, some race replay running in the background, while your phone’s screen lit up with clips from earlier.

You played one of Ollie trying to spin the basketball on his finger and dropping it straight onto his foot.

You cracked up. “This is elite-tier clumsiness.”

“That was Kimi’s fault,” he said, pointing an accusing chopstick at the screen. “He said something in Italian right before I shot, cursed me.”

You snorted. “I’d believe that.”

He grinned, leaning back.

“Speaking of Kimi… he and Isack spent the entire media morning trying to convince Gabriel to do a fake British accent during the F1TV skits. Poor Gabri. He panicked and said ‘oi, bruv’ and then immediately apologized.”

You laughed, almost choking on a piece of rice. “Gabriel apologizing for saying ‘oi, bruv’ might be the most Gabriel thing ever.”

“Oh, 100%. Then Jack walked by and asked if they were bullying his son again.”

“Not his son,” you corrected, eyes playful. “His ‘golden retriever protégé.’”

Ollie chuckled. “Same thing.”

The laughter slowly faded into a more comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t feel heavy. You glanced at him as he stared ahead at the muted TV, the flicker of color reflecting softly in his eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, voice lower, more thoughtful, “I’ve been thinking a lot about sprint quali.”

You leaned in slightly, sensing the shift.

“I know it’s just another format and all, but… it’s been messing with my head a little,” he admitted.

“There’s less time to ease into things. If I mess up one run, that’s it. It’s over. I hate how fast everything moves. I feel like I’m still catching up.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, setting your food down. Then, gently, “That makes sense. It’s a lot of pressure, especially when people already expect so much from you.”

His eyes flicked to yours.

“And I know everyone says you’re doing great—and you are—but that doesn’t make it feel easier,” you added.

“You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. It doesn’t make you weak.”

He let out a quiet breath, and then his voice softened. “You always say the right things.”

You smiled gently, then reached down to squeeze his hand.

Just for a moment. Just enough to remind him he wasn’t doing this alone.

He looked at your hands, then back at you. “You help more than you know.”

You didn’t say anything—just gave his fingers a small squeeze before letting go.

He walked you back to your door, hoodie sleeves pushed up and hair a little messy from running his hand through it too many times.

The hallway was dimly lit, the distant hum of hotel activity low in the background.

You turned to him, unlocking your door.

“Thanks for dinner,” you said. “And the stories. And letting me bully your basketball skills.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for not using the violin. Yet.”

He scratched the back of his neck again—the telltale Ollie Bearman nervous tic you were starting to recognize.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Seriously. Thank you. For tonight. I didn’t know I needed to laugh this much.”

You softened. “Anytime, Bearman.”

There was a beat of stillness. A moment suspended in the warm silence of the hallway.

Then he smiled, stepping back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ollie.”

And with one last glance, he turned down the corridor—leaving your heart a little lighter, and your camera roll a little fuller.

The garage was still buzzing, the scent of tire rubber and brake dust lingering in the air as Ollie tugged off his gloves, cheeks flushed beneath the edges of his helmet hair.

Sprint Qualifying had just wrapped, and it had gone well—better than expected.

P12 wasn’t pole, but the lap was strong, the car felt alive underneath him, and for the first time all weekend, Ollie actually looked relaxed.

You had your camera raised before he even saw you, catching the moment he slung his helmet onto the counter and unzipped his suit halfway.

There was a gleam in his eyes—the post-session glow of someone who’d wrung every drop out of the car and knew it.

“Car felt good,” he told one of the engineers, voice still slightly elevated from the adrenaline.

“Hooked up in Sectors 1 and 2. Bit of understeer through the final corner, but nothing we can’t work around.”

You filmed him through the debrief, staying out of the way, switching to your second lens to catch the softer details: the way he tapped the edge of the tablet while reviewing data, the little grin he flashed Kimi when they fist-bumped on the way out.

The footage was going to be gold.

After the team media wrap, you caught up with him just as he stepped off the media pen carpet, fiddling with the velcro on his gloves.

"That went well," you said, camera still rolling.

Ollie turned to you, all bright eyes and wind-tousled hair. “Told you the car would come alive once it stopped raining.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You also told me this morning you had a bad feeling about Turn 13.”

He smirked. “Reverse psychology. I played myself.”

The mic was still clipped to his suit, so you kept rolling as he continued his little victory monologue, gesturing dramatically as he described how he "summoned the spirit of Alonso" through the middle sector.

It was all very standard Ollie Bearman behavior—until you signaled that the clip was good and reached up to unclip the mic.

As you did, he leaned in, dropping his voice slightly, almost conspiratorial. “You know, I think I drive better when I know you're watching.”

Your fingers froze just slightly on the clip.

He gave you a tiny smirk, catching the hesitation. His voice stayed low. “Makes me wanna show off a little.”

You rolled your eyes, lips twitching upward.

“You say that like it isn’t already painfully obvious.”

He took the mic from your hand and stepped closer—not dramatically, but just enough to make the air between you buzz.

“You’re just lucky I keep it PG when the camera's on. Otherwise…”

You arched a brow. “Otherwise, what?”

He grinned. “HR might actually have to get involved.”

You choked on a laugh, pushing at his shoulder.

“Ollie.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he said, beaming.

Before you could retaliate with a clever jab, Lia passed by with her headset still half-on, a tablet under one arm. She took one glance at the two of you—him smug, you trying (and failing) not to smile—and didn’t miss a beat.

“I swear to God,” she muttered, “you two are one flirty exchange away from being a full-blown HR nightmare.”

You and Ollie both burst into laughter, the tension cracking like sunlight through clouds. She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

“I like her,” Ollie said, still grinning.

“You would,” you replied. “She sees right through you.”

Ollie leaned back, hands on his hips. “Doesn’t mean I’m not charming.”

You raised your camera again and aimed it at his face.

“Say that again for the reel?”

He struck a mock-model pose. “Ollie Bearman, charming and quick. Spread the word.”

You shook your head fondly behind the lens, laughing as you captured him in that exact moment—race suit half-zipped, hair a mess, cheeks flushed with pride and adrenaline, and eyes sparkling with just a bit too much mischief for his own good.

It was chaos. Predictable, flirty chaos.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You hadn’t expected the team dinner plans to dissolve so quickly after landing, but jet lag hit harder than expected.

Everyone had either retreated to their rooms for sleep or mumbled promises of “next time” as they peeled off into the hotel lobby.

Except Ollie.

He’d looked over at you as you both lingered by the elevators—hair slightly messed from the flight, hoodie half-zipped over a faded white tee—and asked, “Still up for food?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

He grinned, clearly relieved. “Perfect. I saw a place a block over—tiny, but it’s supposed to be good.”

And now, here you were—sitting across from him in a dimly lit booth, warm yellow paper lanterns hanging overhead, a half-eaten plate of yakitori between you and two tall glasses of iced oolong tea sweating on the table.

You poked at a skewer with your chopsticks. “You really just wanted food, or were you hoping to escape the jet lag spiral?”

He smirked, eyes warm. “Both. And I figured I’d take my chances asking you first.”

You tilted your head, amused. “Why me?”

His lips twitched.

“Because you always say yes when it comes to food.”

You laughed, reaching to flick a sesame seed at him from your plate.

“Not wrong.”

There was a lull, but not an awkward one. The kind where the air felt charged but familiar. Ollie looked… peaceful.

Not performing for cameras or joking with engineers. Just Ollie, twenty minutes after landing, skin flushed from the cold outside, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows.

He leaned back against the wooden booth, eyes drifting for a moment to the street outside, where faint neon buzzed beyond the frosted windows. Then he looked at you again—longer, softer.

“You know,” he said, voice dropping slightly, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You set your chopsticks down slowly. “That sounds serious.”

“It kind of is.”

You gave a small, teasing smile. “You didn’t forget to submit your media requests again, did you?”

He didn’t laugh this time. Instead, he held your gaze, mouth pulling into something more vulnerable.

“No. I mean—this isn’t about work.”

Your heartbeat picked up, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited.

Ollie exhaled, fingers brushing over the condensation on his glass.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Honestly, since before the season started. And I didn’t want to make things weird because… we’re around each other all the time. And you’re one of the only people who makes this job feel normal.”

He paused, watching your face. You nodded slightly, silently telling him to go on.

“And at first I thought it was just because we’re close in age, or we get each other. But then we started spending more time together. Lunches, dinners, stupid mic tests where I couldn’t stop teasing you because you looked so—” he broke off with a soft laugh, rubbing his jaw.

“God. You looked so serious, and I liked getting reactions out of you.”

You ducked your head, cheeks burning.

“And then it became… more,” he said quietly.

“Like, I’d look for you without realizing. I’d want you around, even when things weren’t going great. Like when I didn’t that time in Melbourne and the first person I wanted to see was you. That kind of thing doesn’t just happen for no reason.”

Your heart felt like it was fluttering in your throat.

Ollie leaned forward a little, elbows on the table.

“I like you. A lot. And I know we’re in this crazy environment with cameras and flights and people always watching, but tonight—when everyone else said no and it was just you and me—I realized I didn’t want to keep waiting for the perfect moment. Because I think this might be it.”

Silence fell between you, but not the suffocating kind. The soft, shaky kind that sits between two people on the edge of something good.

You smiled, slowly, hand brushing your glass just to keep it steady. “So you planned to charm me with food and lantern lighting, huh?”

He grinned, but there was something nervous in it.

“Did it work?”

You didn’t speak. Instead, you reached across the table, gently wrapping your fingers around his.

Ollie blinked, then looked down at your joined hands—like he wasn’t sure if it was real.

“It worked,” you said softly. “It worked a while ago.”

He exhaled shakily, the tension melting from his shoulders, and his thumb brushed yours in a quiet, grateful way.

Outside, the street was starting to empty. A couple staggered past on bicycles, laughing.

You and Ollie just sat there, hands linked across an empty plate, the last flickers of nerves replaced with something calm, something certain.

And when you walked back to the hotel side by side—his arm brushing yours every few steps—it was quieter than usual. But in the best way.

Just before you reached your door, he stopped.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said, voice low.

You looked up at him, smiling. “Thanks for the confession.”

His cheeks flushed. He gave a soft, bashful laugh. “Yeah, I’m gonna replay that in my head a thousand times tonight.”

“Good,” you said, unlocking your door. “I will too.”

He hesitated, then—gently, slowly—tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ollie.”

And when the door clicked shut behind you, your heart was still racing.

The shift between you two over the course of the weekend wasn’t drastic, but it was obvious.

It started with the way Ollie carried himself during media day. Still his usual charming self on camera, still cracking jokes about his playlist choices and his tragic attempts at origami for the “Japanese culture challenge” — but with you, there was something gentler.

A soft layer under his banter. Like his smiles landed just a beat longer when your camera focused on him. Like he didn’t care who saw anymore.

You weren’t exactly hiding either. And the team? The team noticed.

By Saturday, Esteban had raised an eyebrow when he caught Ollie lingering too long by the media tent.

“Didn’t realize we were doing interviews and puppy eyes now.”

Gabriel chimed in with a snort. “That’s not puppy eyes. That’s in love eyes.”

“Shut up,” Ollie muttered, cheeks pink, but he didn’t deny it.

You were behind the camera laughing, biting your lip to keep the shot steady as Isack whispered, “HR’s gonna have a field day,” before winking at you.

Even Lia had a moment during the driver mic checks, adjusting her headset and muttering just loud enough:

“You two are a walking HR nightmare and I’m so proud of you.”

Everyone teased, but it was lighthearted — celebratory, even. Like they'd all known it would happen eventually.

Because now, it wasn’t just glances. It was you handing Ollie a bottle of water after a session and him tapping your fingers with his in thanks.

It was you fixing his mic cord and him whispering, “You’re good at that, you know,” with a grin meant only for you.

It was walking a few steps apart through the paddock, only for him to nudge your elbow just slightly — a secret shared in a crowd.

Even during the race, he kept looking for your face in the garage. Between the chaos of comms and tire calls, he’d glance toward the media pit, just to check if you were there.

And when he crossed the line, not on the podium but in points, he pumped a fist — then looked at you with the kind of grin that said it still meant everything.

The sun was setting slowly over Suzuka, casting warm gold across the paddock as teams packed up.

Equipment cases thudded onto trolleys, pit carts rolled past, and most of the crew had already changed out of uniforms and into hoodies, prepping for the long haul out.

You were wrapping cables, still high off the adrenaline of the weekend, when your radio buzzed and someone said, “He’s looking for you, by the pit exit.”

You didn’t have to ask who.

When you got there, Ollie was leaning against the concrete barrier, one hand tucked in his hoodie pocket, the other holding his phone loosely by his side.

The minute he saw you, he lit up.

“There you are.”

“Didn’t think you’d wait,” you teased.

“I always wait for you,” he said easily.

You walked up beside him, close enough for his arm to brush yours. Close enough to feel how warm he was despite the breeze that had picked up.

“Think we survived Suzuka?” you asked, bumping his shoulder.

He nodded. “Just barely. Between quali, sprint drama, and everyone suddenly deciding our love life is their favorite new hobby…”

You laughed. “To be fair, they were right.”

Ollie looked at you then, fully — no rush, no nerves, just that wide-open, boyish gaze that made your heart flutter like it was day one.

“They were,” he agreed softly. “But I’m glad we didn’t rush it. Feels… right now. Doesn’t it?”

You nodded, smile soft. “It really does.”

He reached down and took your hand without a second thought, fingers lacing through yours like it was second nature.

“Come on,” he said, tugging gently. “Let’s go find dinner.”

“Another confession night?” you teased.

“Nah,” he said with a smirk. “You already said yes.”

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[future-bog-body]

i just wanna yap about the Walkers and the idea of favoritism with them and why i personally dont subscribe to the idea that Logan is "the favorite" and also just. yap abt Logan and relationships in general.

Logan is a character defined by his relationships. ALL characters are, but Logan is to an extreme degree. lets keep in mind that video games, like tv shows, film, books, and stories are a form of literature, theyre story telling. we must assume that all choices are intentional, especially with regards to the way character's dialogue is phrased. so lets take a look at what Elias says about his boys in that little "one minute interview" and how he phrases it.

obviously that clip is where we get the story about the beach, but Elias also "introduces" his boys in it. heres what he says about Hesh; "There's David, my oldest. He's 28, likes to go by the name "Hesh". He- well, he, he joined up the day he turned 18. He's one of the best soldiers we have in the field today. Then again, maybe I'm biased."

so to start with this, Hesh is defined by HIMSELF. we learn his name first, David, and then his relationship to Elias. we then learn more about Hesh, we learn his age, we learn that he has a nickname that he likes to go by (that he might have given himself, a nickname which can have multiple meanings depending on how u want to read it), we learn that he joined up as soon as he could. its notable that he joined up at 18 because thats the youngest u can join without parental consent. Elias it seems did not give parental consent to join up at 17. this introduction shows us that Elias is proud of his son and likes to brag abt him, but we also learn abt Hesh himself.

in contrast, heres how Logan is introduced; "My youngest, that's Logan. He, uhm. [Chuckle] Well, he reminds me a lot of his mom."

Logan is introduced to us first by his relationship to Elias. we learn that he is Elias' youngest child before we learn his name. then we don't even learn more about him, we learn only that he reminds Elias of his mother. following that, we get the story on the beach. Logan is defined by Elias entirely on how he relates to Elias or Hesh or their mother. Logan's age we only get from different supplementary material, its never stated directly by Elias the way Hesh's is.

throughout the game, Logan is also introduced by his family via his relationship to them. its not "This is Sergeant Walker" its "This is my brother Logan", "this is my youngest". in fact, Logan's name is rarely used in the game. primarily its used by Hesh and Elias and, notably, Rorke. most characters dont actually speak to Logan directly that often, rather they speak to him THRU Hesh. in the amazon after the crash, Elias asks Logan a question, but its Hesh that answers, without even waiting for Logan to do so himself (obviously this is bc Logan is a mute protagonist, and i actually have a theory that hes meant to be mute in the story too, not just as a result of gameplay). Elias gives orders to Hesh for both of them. Merrick speaks to Logan maybe twice in the whole game, primarily speaking to Hesh and assuming Logan is also included. while Keegan does speak directly to Logan more often than others, he almost never uses his name, sticking instead to "kid". Kick never speaks to Logan directly, neither do most other NPCs.

Rorke is, again, an exception to this. Rorke speaks to Logan directly, and while he uses "kid" similar to Keegan, he also uses Logan's name pretty often, or he forgoes a name and just looks at Logan directly when hes speaking. Hesh is the character that speaks to Logan directly the most, and the second most is Rorke. in contrast, Rorke very rarely addresses Hesh directly. he does on the train, but even then, his gaze is almost always fixed on Logan or tracking the player if u move around. he also does during the interrogation scene, but once again his focus is on Logan, and he responds to Hesh primarily to taunt him and Elias. also, Rorke's Vanguard lines imply a genuine affection for Logan but thats neither here nor there

i think the two biggest reasons that Logan is thought of as the "favorite" are bc of Elias' last words and Elias' mask. but the thing with the mask is that as far as we know, up until then, Logan might not even be wearing a mask like the rest of the Ghosts, however. Hesh has his facepaint that is clearly meant to mimic the Ghosts' mask. Logan getting Elias' mask reaffirms his connection as Elias' son, whereas Hesh's facepaint reaffirms his individuality as a person and character.

as for the last words, i mean. Logan was the one who was just forced to shoot his father. Logan is the one who just got shot - who got stabbed not too many missions before - and who Rorke has shown an uncomfortable amount of interest in. while both boys need comfort and are scared in that moment, Logan is to a greater degree. hes been shot and injured, hes actively bleeding out, hes just shot his father, and hes laying on the floor about to watch his father die not even a foot away from him. hes close enough to Elias in that moment to feel Elias' breath, to watch his eyes dilate. Elias' words are aimed at Logan because its Logan who, in that moment, needs to hear them the most

[another-delta-lover]

YAP [RANT] TO ME ABT HEAVY!!!!!

HE'S SO FUCKING PERFECT.

I get MAD when people simp for medic bc, I understand, tumblr insane sexy man blabla yadda yadda IDGAF

You all CAN'T SEE HOW MUCH OF A PERFECT PERSON HE IS. He's such a good person, he's such a good son and older brother, doin the dishes for his mama, caring about the absolute safety of his sisters, LITERALLY SAVING EM FROM A THING I FORGOT IT'S NAME WHEN HE WAS LIKE, IDK FUCKIN <20< ??? HE'S SUCH A GOOD FAMILY MEMBER. HE WOULD PROTECT U SO WELL AND ALWAYS CARE ABOUT UR SAFETY. AUGH ES UN HOMBRE Q RESUELVE LO JURO. HE ALSO RISKS HIS LIFE TO HAVE MONEY FOR THEM??? AAAAAAAAAAA. He does enjoy his job a lot (WHICH I LOVE IN SOMEONE. HELL YEAH ENJOY UR JOB AND GET WELL PAID), But the main reason of him working is just for his family and the money to help them. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?????

Also HE'S SUCH A GOOD TEAMMATE???? HE WILL PROTECT ALL OF HIS TEAM WITHOUT FEAR AND WIN??? AND ALL HE NEEDS IS SOME CUNTY GAY ASS GERMAN DUDE BEHIND HIM??. He could be such a good grandpa/father figure or even just a really good n close friend to all the mercs, but even so, he acts so cold so quiet and mysterious around em🤭

AND ALSO!!! His masculinity ain't broken by showing love to his teammates??? He can hug em and literally yell to them "I LOVE YOU" from across the map??? Sayin "I LOVE YOU DOKTOR!!" Isn't common between men, even less in that time. If he IS gay, good for him! If he isn't, I'm glad he can express how much he loves someone without the fear of lookin weak is something I admire soso muchhh.

He has a minigun the SIZE OF MY FUCKIN BODY THAT HE CAN CARRY RUNNING WITHOUT ANY KIND OF PROBLEM??? HE COULD CARRY ME AROUND LIKE A STICK AND WOULDN'T EVEN AAHAGAJSHDHAGSH DO YOU REALIZE HE TAKES CARE OF THAT GUN LIKE SHE WAS HIS CHILD??? HE'S A GOOD FUCKING PARENT TOO?? AAAHHHH IM NORMAL

He's a good cook, he cooks really nice meals and doesn't mind to share u some, which I wouldn't do bc I don't share my food. HESO NICE AUGHH. I LOVE IT WHEN MA BOI COOKS😭😭😭 IDK WHY THAT MAKES PEOPLE MORE ATTRACTIVE FOR ME.

Also, HE'S SO FUCKING PRETTY???????? IDGAF HE'S BALD, THAT'S THE BEST PARTY. HIS BLUE EYES ARE SO PRETTY N HIS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS ARE SO SILLYY

LOOK AT HIM!!!! AUGHHH

Also his body is so JAHSLAHDJQHDJALSH he so big so perfect😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 His arms are the size of my whole body. AND HIS HANDS AAAAAAAAAA. He so FAT I LOVE HIM. I need him to crush me un a hug so badly. U all don't understand how much of a good body that could be in a relationship. U cold? U hug him problems gone. U wanna be cozy at night but the pillow is too small? He's the biggest pillow and he can hug u back that's soNSHSJAVDJSHD. He can carry u in his arms when u tired, u can lay on his chest and everything.... sighhh.... AND ALSO HE CAN FIGHT A BEAR WITH HIS BARE FISTS AND WIN, THEN EAT IT???? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THAT IS????? LIKE HOLY FUCK THAT'S LIKE THE PEAK OF MANLINESS FOR ME. The question "would u rather be in a forest with a man or with a bear" I'M CHOOSING THIS BEAR HOLY FUCK HE WOULD PROTECT ME FROM THE BEARS.

ALSO HIS VOICE OH GOD HIS VOICE. It's such a loud and strong voice in English 🤭 even tho he isn't the best at it (me neither), HE SPEAKS IN SUCH A WAY IT MAKES ME KICK MY FEET GIGGLE AND CRY. I need him to say nice stuff to me with his cool asf voice. And when IT'S IN RUSSIAN AHHH😩~ I SWEAR He's such an elegant and polite man😭😭😭 he sounds so professional and ajsvqkebalhdmaoevs And IDC what u all say to me, he could sing so perfectly<3 for me his dialogs of him singing are well sung/GEN. I just imagine him singing:

To me.... Ik the song is kinda sad and not very romantic but IDC HE WOULD SOUND SO PERFECTLY.

HE HAS A PHD IN RUSSIAN LITERATURE LIKE....... HE'S SO FUCKING SMART. HE'S ALSO PRETTY FUCKIN RICH??? IT COST 400,000 DOLLARS TO FIRE HIS WEAPON FOR 12 SECONDS???? AND I'M PRETTY SURE THAT IF HE KNOWS THAT HE'S 1. really fucking smart 2. THE ONE WHO PAYS??? Even if he wasn't rich I still love him a lot but I'm poor so that would make it slightly better. AND ALLTHE MONEY TO HIS FAMILY MOSTLY AUGHHH ALSHAKSHAKDHA

Also his COSMETICS. HIS FUCKING COSMETICS ARE SO HOT AAAAAAA. Most of em are normal silly hats but WHEN THEY AREN'T. OHMY GOD THOSE DARK GLOVES GOT MY LEGS SHAKIN. AND HAVE YOU SEEN HIM IN SUITS??? OH GOD AUGHHH. Not into mafia people n stuff BUT.... FOR HIM I MAKE A BIG AHH EXCEPTION. And also, i want to point out the fact that HE WEARS DRESSES. I shouldn't make it a big dear but DO YOU UNDERSTAND IT'S THE 60's-70's???? AND HE'S A BIG RUSSIAN MAN???? He broke the gender dressing codes of the time not only bc he's a man wearing dresses, but a BIG MAN WEARING THEM??? AND A RUSSIAN MAN??? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THAT MEANS TO ME????💔💔💔💔 Also his hats are cute I like them.

Just to summary:

Medic < HEAVY!!!

Good person I general, son, older brother, teammate, friend, father and possible partner, risking his life for his family.

He doesn't think lovin teammates is weird or GAY. Unless he is, but honestly good for him

STRONG AS HELL. AJGAJAHDJA

GOOD COOK!!!!

PRETTY!!!!!PRETTY REALLY PRETTY!!! HANDSOME

GORGEOUS FREAKING BODY.

FOUGHT WITH A BEAR AND WON

VOICE OF AN ANGEL!!!!

SMART AND RICH??? AND HE DESERVES TO BE RICH.

AMAZING STYLE.

DOESN'T CARE ABOUT GENDER NORMS.

YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND ME. AAAGHHHHH ILOVEHIM YOU ALL CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU ALL CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU DON'T YOU CAN'T YOU YOU ALL CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND.

[h0nkch0c0late]

Oh my goodness finally someone who wants to write for Gen v 😛😛 I was wondering If you could write about a really clingy reader ? Like when they went to that party in the first ep, and the reader was just clinging onto Jordan

YES ABSOLUTELY OH MY GOD. Also, apologies if this is a little skewed I've only watched episode 1 like once so far and only remember a few things AAAA.

Clingy

Jordan Li x Reader

SUMMARY: you were never one for parties, and Jordan knew that well. When you agreed to go with her this time, though, she wasn't at all surprised when you clung to them the entire night.

WARNINGS: Gen V spoilers, swearing, major fluff, drugs

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

When it came to parties, you would rather stay in your dorm room and read a book. Which was ironic, since your partner and their friends did it on a nightly basis.

But when you had heard from Andre that he invited Marie Moreau (one of the newest freshmen to join Godolkin), you decided, "why not?" As it was a good chance to meet the girl.

So, when you found yourself in Jordan's room like usual, with her arm wrapped around your waist, body pulled close, you decided to drop what you thought was surprising news.

"I think I wanna go to tonight's party." You said, turning your head to look at them.

Jordan smirked, eyebrows furrowing together in curiosity, "oh really? Didn't take you as the party type."

You rolled your eyes, nudging her in playful annoyance as you yanked her arm off of your waist.

"Hey!" They wined, putting their arm back around but you didn't protest, only huffing at them to ensure that you were upset at their reaction (you weren't).

"I thought you'd be more surprised." You sighed, turning your body towards them as you looked down. She chuckled lightly, sitting up with you but keeping her arm around your waist.

"Why would i be surprised? You're practically attached to my hip like, all the time." She snickered.

"Yeah, but never at the parties." You shrug.

"That's because you hate people. And the whole drug thing." They pointed out with a small laugh.

"Okay, well, I'm still going."

"Good."

"Great!"

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

As you made your way to the top of the Seven tower, you made sure to stick to Jordan's side the entire time.

And of course, Cate, Andre, and Jordan went straight for the things that get you high as fuck, snorting it right up their nostrils.

And look, it's not that you didn't WANT to do that stuff with them, it's just that you couldn't.

Here comes the irony again with the fact that your parents pumped you full of a drug when you were a baby, but whatever.

As you clung to Jordan's side, with their arm wrapped tightly around your waist as they laughed along with their friends, you watched Luke as he made his way over to Marie.

She was a nice girl, as far as you could tell. The two of you had exchanged hi's and names, a bright smile on the girl's face the entire time. You would have talked with her more had she stayed with the group, but you understood.

Your head laid against your partner's shoulder as you sighed, knowing that this was only the beginning of the party.

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

...and you were correct!

Soon enough the six of you had entered a club, Cate taking one of her gloves off and using her powers of persuasion against the host guy that had asked for a reservation from them (to which they did not have).

Looking back at Marie as you gor dragged along by Jordan, you could see the amazement on her face at Cate's actions.

"Dont worry, you're gonna see that more often, and soon enough it won't be as impressive." You joked, saying it loud enough for Cate to hear through the crowd.

She turned around, her eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, I heard that!" She grinned.

You nodded, "you were supposed to, Cate." You chuckled, causing the rest of the group to erupt in a wave of chuckles as well as you were led to a table.

As you all sat down, Marie took notice of your clinginess with Jordan, "Is she always attached to you like that?" She asked them as Andre took out a small baggy of molly, Jordan immediately snatching it from his hands as he grinned.

Cate answered the question for Jordan, "yes, yes she is. She won't admit it but one second away from Jordan, and she is WORRIED. She's clingy because she has attachment issues." She smirked.

You rolled your eyes, "I do not have attachment issues, Cate. I just hate being without her for too long. It's called being clingy." You respond snarkily as you pressed closer to them.

Marie held in her laugh as she noticed the baggy, "is that cocaine?" She asked.

"We finished all the coke," Jordan began as he opened up the baggy, "this is molly."

"Hey, I don't really fuck with powders, but.." Luke pulls out a baggy from his pocket, waving it at Marie, "I do microdose shrooms."

"So, what do ya say, freshman?" Jordan smirks, their arm moving to their girlfriend's shoulder as Andre waves the baggy of molly at Marie.

Marie looks around at all of them, you seeming to be the only one other than her not interested in the drugs, "Uh...no thank you."

After some persuasion from Cate, and a little nod of reassurance from you, Marie took the jump and took some of the molly, the group cheering as she does.

"Cmon, let's dance!" Cate exclaims as she drags Marie off to the dance floor, leaving the other three at the table.

"See? I told you." Andre said, looking towards the couple beside him.

"Yeah, super nice." You smiled, picking up Jordan's drink and taking a sip from it.

You weren't much for alcohol, but you thought that tonight was special enough.

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

You and Jordan had split from the two boys for a bit, coming back from wherever you had gone and nodding at people that you passed by.

You clung to Jordan's arm, and just as the two of you passed the doorway back to the main room, Jordan felt comfortable enough to change.

"Oh, my girl's back~" you purred jokingly, "oh, how I missed you~"

Jordan rolled her eyes at you and laughed lightly, "you're so lucky I love you."

You smiled at them, "oh, boy do i know it."

As you joined the boys back at the table, you were now accompanied by two more trays of drinks (courtesy of you and Jordan).

"There she is." Luke greeted as the two sat down.

"You changed. Why?" Andre questioned.

"Because I fucking felt like it." Jordan responded as they felt you snuggle into their side, and you tuned out the rest of their conversation.

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

Eventually your group had split up, the drugs and alcohol finally taking into affect.

Luke was somewhere near the bathrooms, Cate and Marie were still enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and Andre had endulged himself with the flirting activity at the bar area.

Jordan had somehow convinced you to join her on the dance floor, the two of you absolutely not following the beat as you slow danced to the club songs.

Your enjoyment was ended when screams erupted from the bar area, and suddenly you found yourself getting dragged out of the club by Jordan, Luke, Andre, and Cate joining you both.

As you passed the bar area you had noticed the woman bleeding to death on the ground, and Marie standing there.

You tried to call her name, to get her to follow you and the rest of the group, but your calls were drowned out by the rest of the crowd.

Who knew the day you decided to be extra clingy would end up a very messy and bloody night.

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

RAAAGGEEEE THE FIRST DRAFT DIDNT SAVE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

the ending is a little different and a bit quicker than I had planned and I am so sorry for that but I hope you enjoyed <33333

And yes I did in fact lie when I said I didn't have access to prime video I'm just a little stupid Ok.

[dandysworldhcs]

Tem back at it again with the strange biology rants

Okok. Warning though because i talk abt a bit of gore and grossness, also mentions of needle injections, and also death. If you dont wanna hear abt organs then you dont need to post this ask, idrm!!/gen

Toons, when being created, were based off of humans in terms of biology. Of course, their heads would be objects, but the neck down would be relatively the same. At least, until they dumbed it down for the appeal of the child audience

- their mouths are the same. Teeth, tongue, esophagus. They still produce spit. They don't lose teeth, however. They might get tonsil stones.

- They lack noses, yet still breathe? I like to think its "just the art style" but it makes no sense. Either give them noses, or let the ichor they're made out of breathe. Imagine breathing skin, thats weird! This would also mean they cant produce snot, which is weird.

- Their bodies are simple. They have fingers that seem to come and go as they please. Like are only there when its convenient. Pretty weird.

- They lack organs. They lack bones! Their bodies are just hardened (to a degree), purified ichor. When cut open, they bleed, of course, but you wont see any muscle, or bone, or veins. Its just ichor. Its freaky as hell

- Ichor is a corrosive substance, which is why raw ichor is so dangerous. Its also why twisteds are the way they are. Its a ichor overdosage.

- and since ichor is a corrosive substance, theres no need for the standard human waste track. As a way to make the toons as non-sexual as possible, they reworked their systems, practically removing anything past the stomach. The urinary and reproductive tracks were removed; everything ends at the stomach. The ichor will simply dissolve any humanly edible substance into energy to replicate and reproduce ichor cells. Anything deemed inedible (metal, plastic, basically anything humans cant eat), can only go one way out, by vomitting. They get belly aches if they can't vomit it up, and it needs to be forced out via triggering the gag reflex. The amount of times Sprout likely had to have a toon cough something up because they ate something bad is likely too many times to count.

- i will say they do have lungs. Works like human lungs. Can get infected. They technically dont need hearts, as they lack veins or blood to circulate oxygen through their system. If they did, theyd need it to keep ichor production abd ichor reproduction going.

- Toons were always capable of aging, but then why havent we seen anyone really grow *old*? Well, its in their food. The food at Gardenview, specifically the kind used for toon consumption, has ichor in it. A small amount, yes, but they eat so much to where they dont even notice it. Fresh ichor being out into their bodies means they can retain their young form. Its why Toodles will never physically age. With physical age, mental age qlso comes with it. She will stay around 8 forever due to this.

- BECAUSE of this, if a toon were to ween off of the food at Gardenview, and stick with strict human diet, at first, nothing would happen. Jts just that fresh new ichor isnt being put into their bodies (an alternative is shots, but i doubt theyd want that. Hell i doubt they even know that ichor is put into their food). But after a while, their ichor forms will begin to grow old, unable to keep a steady flux of new cells, and just begin reusing the old cells. Due to this, the toon will begin to age, similarly to a human. Skin will grow saggy, their object heads differing depending on what they are (as in Boxten's paint will begin to dull, Tisha's cardboard head will weaken, and her tissues thinning. Stuff like that.)

- and eventually... the cells cannot keep regenerating themselves. And their forms cannot retain. And eventually they will return to the raw ichor form, becoming a puddle on the floor. Rip losers

- they can sweat. Its weird. Do they smell? Maybe. Not every toon showers tho. Some will (shrimpo, finn, teagan, ect), and some use other cleaning methods (flutter, gigi, boxten, ect). Some literally cant (scraps, vee, poppy). Its not like they guys can smell bad...

- they have eye colors because i say so

- they dont have finger nails :( or finger prints. No traction on surfaces theyre gonna slip and fall :(

Ok i think thats it. Sorry i went on a rant my bad. Im not looking back for spelling mistakes

no no, im in love with this. GOD i love biology headcanons.... feed me more......

[smueivrse]

WRITING IN THE SAND! ft. gen narumi

pairings. gen narumi x gn! reader.

premise. on the beach with your boyfriend, gen and you made the moment more enjoyable by writing your name and gen’s in the sand ‹𝟹.

cw. bad writing, vulgar language. lovesick! narumi he's icky ( affectionately )

notes. hello, it's been awhile since I’ve ever posted anything school has been tiring for me but I hope you guys enjoy this ‹𝟹.

Going outside was never been in your boyfriend’s - GEN bucket list nor was it in his forte but for you, he made an exception. It wasn't a surprise that GEN knows a lot about you and that includes you being in love or more like obsessed with the beach because you said and he quote “it’s very calming and just feeling the water hitting your bare feet is to die for.”

it was something that drawn him to you, always so carefree without a care in the world as if like the world was perfect and nothing like kaiju bullshit is occurring in Japan, no it was like the world was anything but bad.

GEN never thought that exploring the outside world ( except when he’s fighting kaijus ) was calming, it helps with the stress of being a Captain of his Division, just spending time in the beach feeling the soft and chilling breeze of the wind hitting him just the two of you was everything that he could ever asked for. It was enough to ease his worries and stress away.

The feeling of the ocean water hitting his barefoot was something he enjoyed but nothing can compare to the enjoyment he felt when he sees you enjoying your favorite activity - it was breathtaking especially how you look under the fading sun, under the pinkish and yellowish skies that made your appearance look more ethereal.

He was stuck in his daydreams that he didn’t heard you call his name, eyes boring into your figure but his mind seems to be in a different universe - that’s until he managed to snap out of his daydreams when you called his name loudly, too loud.

A sigh left GEN’s lips at how high pitched your voice was whenever he wasn’t paying attention to you, nonetheless he finally look right straight into your eyes. never breaking the eye contact he held with you, he felt his heart race when a warm smile appeared on your lips the same smile he adored.

“Gen, my love, c’mere! I wanna show you something.”

“what is it now?" He muttered underneath his breath trying to mask out the nervousness in his voice as he walked towards you, his hair gently getting caressed by the wind makes him beautiful in your eyes before you just gave him another smile in return.

“Look," you retorted back at him, taking a nearby stick that were lying around the sand and began writing your name along with a heart “♡” before you write down his name creating a “[name] ♡ gen” written on the sand.

GEN’s eyes widened at the sight if his heart was beating fast before then his heart is beating in an inhuman speed upon seeing what you had wrote in the sand, he felt butterflies erupting in his stomach at the sight. He felt like a teenager on a first date with his crush, it would have been what he will call it if it weren’t for the fact that the two of you were married.

“shit, that’s so cute.” he cursed underneath his breath he was blushing as hell, he looked like a tomato but it didn’t take long for him to compose himself once again and approached the masterpiece you had created only for it to get washed up by the water.

He blinked once, twice then thrice before his brain finally comprehend what just happened before a scowl appeared on GEN’s face, he was so close to adding a nice design on what you had made but that stupid ocean water just ruined it! The sight of his pouting face was an entertainment to say the least, you loved everything about this moment.

even if it was destroyed by the sea water and your husband definitely feels the same.

© XIAOLIA, 2024 — plagiarism, reposting &&. translating my works are strictly prohibited.

[olderthannetfic]

As someone who primarily is interested in fanfiction for shipping I actually realized I used to read way more Gen back in the LiveJournal days. On LJ, with the way communities were set up, I ended up just reading what came in my feed and a lot of that was Gen mixed in with ships. Now that I use ao3 I only go to the ship tags. I guess I don’t use the main fandom tag because of how much I would have to filter out (oc/canon or self shipping being big ones I don’t remember that being big on LJ it was mostly found on ff.net in my memory).

I guess on LJ I just felt insulated by most people being slash shippers and queer but nowadays everyone is so mixed together I would rather stick to ship tags if that makes sense. I don’t think people realize just how queerphobic main fandom hubs were in the old days and we were in an accepting little corner on LJ (mostly lol). And tbh even though people claim to be inclusive and accepting in modern fandom: a LOT of the former queerphobic sentiments (not to mention misogyny dressed up as activism) are just being echoed with a new coat of paint and I still don’t wanna be around that shit. It’s a bummer I miss out on Genfic I might enjoy, but I’m not willing to deal with the kind of people who bend over backwards to excuse that behavior. I’m here for my hobby not to make a statement.

Additionally, I’m sorry but I have noticed a pattern of ‘meta’ posts just being poorly disguised ‘I hate that this ship is popular or this character is popular or this headcanon is prevalent and here’s why you should view it as “problematic”’ or whatever. It’s kind of obvious when a BNF is trying to control the popular fandom zeitgeist nowadays because the framing is often a mix of hyperbolic moralizing and extremely literal interpretations of moments from the source material. People need to stop letting controlling fans take over their fandoms or no one will want to post anything at all.

Okay end rant! Hope you’re all enjoying your blorbos in peace.

--

[princess-self-shipping]

The Story of Unparalleled Innocence

Hi yall! I got thinking a bit too hard about my take on Innocence today and because of that, yall get to suffer! Of course everything is below a cut because this is LONG, so if yall just wanna look at cute art and keep scrolling you absolutely can! No hard feelings!

But for those interested, here we go! Enjoy my ramblings!

Being built late into the gen 3 life cycle, but not as late as Five Pebbles. She was built for neccesity, but there was still genuine love and care put into her. Thin and nimble fingers to do tasks, pretty clothes and decor even if they weren't the purple she liked it to be, etc. She was loved at first, revered

And then things started changing. Their people started to become more apathetic at first, then things turned cruel. Isolating. They wanted Innocence to keep doing more and more, and care towards their maintenance was dwindling as time went on, something Innocence had to fight for at times. Around Pebbles's construction, or even planning phase, it was the worst. Until... something happened, and well, their city ascended ahead of schedule.

And from there it should've been easier, right? A chance to explore and figure herself out?

Nope. For something they weren't prepared for was being in the middle of three groups, right on the border of many with different classes of nonsense.

Moon's group never gave her grief, but the other two were pulling her in such different and distracting directions.

It took involvement from many members in Moon's group for them to have even some semblance of identity post mass ascension, which is where they learned their love for sewing, fashion, etc. They liked observing the puppets of their friends and coming up with ideas for new outfits for them! And, with this new identity, they shed the jewelry their city gave them in favor of a giant and adorable bow, sewing new robes for themself that they loved SO much more than what they had.

One key point is that she isn't a gossip by nature, but she does stick her nose where it doesn't belong out of a place of care. And that comes through the most with Pebbles's rot incident. The two talked fairly regularly before that, she considered the two of them friends! So him falling silent with no warning or explanation really worried her, so she sent an overseer to check in on him.

They didn't know what to do when they saw the rot, and Moon wasn't answering. So they contacted a senior of another local group and the images were posted in that group's chat.

It leaked from there, and Innocence took all the blame for the images spreading. If you asked her she will admit it was stupid, but she was panicking and didn't know what else to do.

They know they hurt Pebbles, and if they ever saw him after that they would apologie with their whole heart and soul. They just wanted to help, they didn't know what to do.

And from there, I explore her story mostly in my own Off the String AU! So, for getting this far, here's some slight character notes that I didn't really have the room for here!

Innocence and Chasing Wind swapped plates. No I am not kidding, it was not a mistake that Innocence's eyelashes weren't present throughout the past drawings. The two essentially pulled their own equivalent of 'we're both trans so you can have my closet' but a LOT more intimate and requiring trust

Innocence is the first one to treat Pebbles normally out of the group, as her respect for him never really faded as time had gone on, and doesn't allow her guilt over her mistakes to swallow her whole after she properly apologizes

Is the iterator to most likely just start singing and dancing if they're left alone. If you hear them humming while they're working, leave them be or you will get a pin cushion thrown at your head

I ship them with Pebbles, Chasing Wind, and NSH!

Their antenna are a key indicator of their emotions! They have a pretty bad flat affect tonally, so keeping an eye on their expressions and antenna is a perfect way to tell how they're feeling

Responsible for every new outfit the group has in my Off the String AU! She is working on a new one for Moon as we speak!

And that's it! Feel free to ask me about her I LOVE this little dweeb

[virginmiri99]

TOMMYINNIT IS AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN THE PROBLEM.

I'm off my anti psychotics and I have a lot of catching up to do in terms of tommy hate. first of all, I cant name a more depressing person to be around than someone who consistently tries to center the sympathy on them during a conversation. theres a huge difference between sharing your story and wallowing in it. as a public figure tommy is currently pulling a 2021 RANBOO... yeah thats right tommy is RANBOO by constantly trauma dumping his feelings on his audience: depression, parents divorce, loss of creativity... at a certain point it feels like a hostage situation and he wears the diagnosis of depression like a badge. Have I watched any tommy content recently? No. and not for like 3 years, and thats because his insufferable life habits seep into everything he touches, he has become that person who makes 'I wanna die' jokes that everyone has to uncomfortably laugh at while also parroting humor from middle school. Which is just why his career at "comedy" is failing, and is only doomed to fail. What is his audience? if it WAS all middle schoolers, why do shows that cost money and spew nonsense sexual humor that no parent in their right mind would accept sitting through? if he sees his audience that supports him financially being queer young adults (lesbians) why spend much of his time acting like a nasty middle school boy that turns his aging fans against him on their private twitters? does he ever look around at his peers such as tubbo and wonder why his best friend is much more loved by the overall streaming community--why tubbo is seen as an equal to other streamers while tommy is "that kid tommyinnit?" tommy cant sit at the table with larger streamers without sticking out as "the minecraft kid" and he cant sit at the table with long run minecrafters without sticking out as "inappropriate child", he recevce so respect as a real adult or creator from either side. I truly believe ludwig still things tommy is like 16. does he not feel the imposter syndrome of digging himself into a hole of his own doing? he claims to not want to do "gen z" humor any longer but I dont see the change being put in to expand his audience past the dsmp kids the way, say, tubbo or purpled have (sorry purpled for even speaking your name in presence of the devil. and you have issues too btw. but youre being mostly fine abt them). hell, even ranboo has fought tooth and nail to break away from it (but is cringe and annoying in a different way) my only conclusion from this is that tommyinnit was never talented, funny, or special in any grand way with zero clue of his core identity and now can only live in a false existence as its all hes ever known. he sees himself as bo burnham or robbie williams but he doesnt even know who he is in the first place. which is why he has no swag. he clings to the idea of being the minecraft funnyman, the good to dreams evil, the annoying kid who scored (and lost) a hot girlfriend, but he is failing at all of those things which makes him look desperate and pathetic and using the only thing he currently has: depression. he released a book filled with tweets that only a middle schooler could make to fill up pages (a la gabbie hanna poetry) with ai art and a lack of care for genuine creativity. tommyinnit is nothing more than a washed up 20 yo at the start of his life. at this point he just needs to stop being an online figure as its painful to watch even from a distance.

post this on reddit

[honeytrap26]

BINGO

Senku Ishigami x Reader

summary: Chrome bugs you about a game Senku taught him how to play. cw: a little dirty at the end but nothing crazy aunote: Quick scenario about Senku and reader. I used a pig translator for Gen’s parts, apparently that is what he speaks when he says his words backwards… I don't know if that's true or not. Finished watching season 3 of Dr. Stone and saw that there wasn’t much fanfics for them. So here’s one from me. Enjoy and happy reading! 🐼🖤 wc: 700+ (proofread 🙈)

“Hey, Senku taught me a new game.” Chrome nudges you.

“ Oh yeah and what game would that be?” you continue to knead the dough, not looking at Chrome.

“ It's a very hard game, I’ve been so close to beating Senku.” he smirks at you, rummaging in his pocket.

“ Take a look at it.” he flashes you the cards with numbers on it.

You cover the dough and place it on the table next to the other ones that Francois kneaded, you wash your hands, looking at the cards in his hand.

“ Bingo….” -your brows furrow at Chrome- “Senku taught you how to play Bingo?” 

He nods happily, “It’s a great game we should play, I need to get better so that I can beat Senku.”

You shake your head, drying your hands off on your apron before taking it off and hanging it up in its designated area.

“And why do you wanna play with me?” you walk over to the oven checking the temperature before pushing past the curtains and walk outside. 

“ Cuz Senku told me you were easy to beat.” he smirks, pulling out more items from his pouch.

You sigh as you scan the field for Senku. “That dumbass” you whisper under your breath.

“ Fine, I’ll play with you but I know how to help you win against Senku.” you smirk at Chrome.

“Hey Senkuu!! I’m ready to play with you again.” Chrome yells while jogging towards Senku who was standing next to Taiju and Yuziriha. They were busy going over inventory, and Senku was talking to Yuzihara about making more winter clothes for everyone. Senku looks up at him, he sees you jogging behind Chrome with a grin on your face.

“Looks like he actually went to ask her about the game. You tease her too much Senku.” Yuzihara chuckles.

Taiju rubs the back of his head and laughs out loud. “Of course he would! But ya know you can’t trick her.” Taiju slaps Senku on the back.

Senku does his signature laugh as he puts his hands on his hips. “I know ya big oaf, but I like to try anyway.” he walks over to Chrome who's setting up the cards on a table.

“I'm ready for you.” -Chrome gives you a wink and a thumbs up- “I know all the tricks.”

You give Chrome a thumbs up and winking back at him. “Shall we begin Senku?” you drag out his name just a little longer.

“B64, G17, O53, I7, N-”

“BINGO!” Chrome shouts, slapping his card on the table, he throws his fist in the air.

“Woohoo! Great job Chrome!” you clap for him as you run towards him giving him a hug, you guys both jump in joy and tease Senku, sticking your tongues out.

“Blehh, we won and you looost.”

Senku just smirks and digs his ear. “Good job, I went easy on you..” he shrugs as he walks off.

“I29” Slap!

“B34” Slap!

“S-senku, please.” -he chuckles at you- “thought you said you could beat me.” he rubs your red ass cheek.

“B-but I already won.” you whimper as he leans down to kiss the small of your back.

“ Your so close though.” he smirks “ let’s continue”

“ N-N…69” Slap! 

You moan as he slips a finger in your wet slit.

“ That’s a good girl. I think you deserve more. Get on the bed.” he slaps your ass one more time before letting you go. You saunter towards the bed and lay down. “This is going to be a long night.”  you think to yourself.

 Senku slips off his clothes then walks towards you before pulling you into a kiss.

“One more time” he whispers in your ear and chuckles.

Extra Trimmings!! “Hey Chrome wanna play Bing-” “Shhhhh ,don’t say that word around Senku.” Chrome covers Gen's mouth. “W-why not?” Gen asks, pushing Chrome's hand away from his mouth. “B-because last night I heard slapping and moaning coming from Senkus hut, talking about how that’s what she gets for playing Bin-that game. She kept saying one number in particular saying that she liked it alot.” Gens face turns bright red. “W-what was the umbernay(number)?” he whispers, afraid of the answer.  “69.” Chrome whispers back.  “Whatcha talkin bout?” Senku rubs the back of his head as he yawns standing behind them. Gen and Chrome both scream and take off spouting, “Othingnay (nothing)!” “We’re not talking about Bin-” “Ushhay (hush) it!”

[firewrkpawz]

Little Mari Ibarra Headcanons.

Notes; Very self indulgent! Jus’ writing abt myself /silly

– Fussy n bratty as ever! A bit of a mean kid regressor but eases up pretty fast when she finally notices that her playmates r upset n sniffily

– Flip that really prefers regression, caregiving makes her feel like her mamá, not a bad feeling but she just misses her home

– As @butchreg put in a post,, slips into Spanish when she’s super super regressed and excited!! Almost does it unconsciously nd gets bothered when no one understands her. (Side note,, I think Travis does! They have lil talks in spanish back n forth, like secrets no one else understands!)

– Grew up in a big family where everyone had to share everything, gets really possessive over toys n some food sometimes,, Akilah or someone else (I have no set cg for her!!) has to sit her down often to remind her it’s okay!! Has one particular doll no one else is allowed to touch, just to calm her need to have everything !!

– AuDhd,, her attention is everywhere yet somehow focused on her games as well,, LOVESSS playing tag or princess and knights! (Will very reluctantly agree to be a knight if her friends all wanna b princesses,,)

– Is a big kid-ish regressor! 6-10, so a very wide age range,, tries half-heartedly to be a big sibling to the littler girls but her attention drifts easy. (Having a caregiver watching both of them is the easiest option!)

– Actively likes to stick around Gen or Akilah, they don’t have to talk to her she just finds comfort in their presence, especially when feeling small,, could be their shadow tbh!!

– being from a Hispanic family Mari is noooo stranger to touching or being touched,, carries into her regression as well!! A big cuddle bug and big on hugs,, squishing her friends into her arms at the very first sign of excitement is a trademark when small

– Pre-crash when she’s tiny she loved like all the little play food sets n def had a little kitchenette stored away somewhere,, giving her playmates all the fake food she ‘cooks’ nd smiling wiiiide when they pretend to eat it and tell her it’s yummy

– Not very keen on pacis if she drops kinda low,, likes chewlery or teethers! Especially the fruit shaped ones like strawberry or something!! Pacis make her feel like a baby, she doesn’t think she’s a baby!!

– Very venty regression at times, wilderness putting stress and fear on her shoulders even if she acts somewhat carefree— Tears are very common even over the tiniest bit of scolding, reminds her of her Mamá and in turn makes her want to go home even MORE

– Talks about her family in passing often, like they’re right there with her– “My brother used to..” “My Abuela would cook…” so on and so forth!! Doesn’t want to forget her life outside of the wilderness (Tries real hard to be careful around those like Nat, just so she doesn’t upset the poor boy)

– Avid cartoon fan; Cartoon Network,, Nickelodeon,, anything on the tv that was animated? She’s sat very quietly n her whole attention is focused on the screen,, it makes her feel nostalgic, even though she can’t name the feeling

– Lashes out at even the tiniest hint of scolding in a caregiver’s tone sometimes when her emotions feel too big, refusing to let go of her toy or stuffie because she doesn’t want to listen to why she’s gotta give it up. Shakes her head and stomps her feet!!!!!!!

– Covers her ears n does the ‘La-la-La I caaant hear youuu’ thing a lot, frustrating whoever’s looking after her, she does it at times to get a rise out of someone, right next to name-calling (all child appropriate,, but name calling nonetheless!)