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dimiclaudeblaigan · 1 year ago

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Oh man I really agree with your tags on that one post. The whole king of delusion thing is terrible to me bc like. Delusions aren’t some gotcha you can use against him? It’s a serious mental health issue? But I’d also like to add I hate when people mock him for smelling bad or having poor hygiene or w/e… :/ It’s not funny when people with mental illness can’t properly take care of their hygiene lol I thought we were all understanding of this?

EXACTLY. It's not like "wow look how wrong you are and how terrible you are for being delusional".

Also the hygiene thing pisses me off too. I know lots of his fans use it as a joke, even affectionately, but like... he was homeless. He was living in the slums. Most people around him probably smelled bad. I'm sure they and he cleaned up whenever they could, but buddy, the slums isn't a public showering area. They'd be lucky if they were able to bathe. It's not something they take for granted. Even the "smelly cape" jokes bother me.

I've met homeless people. I've lived in a shelter where I met people who prior to that shelter lived in tents. Showering and bathing isn't something they could just get up and do before being in the shelter. Those people are lucky if they can even go to the bathroom in a proper bathroom, let alone being able to bathe.

Then like you said, on top of that, he's mentally ill. He's not thinking about his next bath. He's talking to people who are dead, believing they are answering him back and responding to their answers to him. There's also the general idea that Lambert's last words were not actually what were told to us via Dimitri's flashback, but the words he remembers because of his illness. He is very likely remembering wrong, because that version of Lambert matches the version of him that Dimtiri talks to, but does not match the version of him in Rodrigue's flashback.

Even depression can cause a lack of proper hygiene, and that's also a mental illness. In his case he has full on episodes of either psychotic breaks or having conversations with people who aren't there, and when he's out of those states he's desperately trying to do what he's been told to do by those voices. He's trying to do it both for those people and because, as he expresses later into AM, he wants them to stop. Those voices harass him day in and out and ridicule him and it hurts him, so he becomes desperate to do what they tell him so they stop tormenting him (which is part why he's so hellbent on hurrying to finish his tasks in the first half of AM).

It's an absolute spiral of a situation, where he already has these delusions but now on top of them feels absolutely terrible and like someone who has been emotionally abused by loved ones for years and years. He loves them but is terrified of them because they always say awful things to him or try to say things about him that aren't true. The worst part is that these are delusions of people who loved him and were nothing like this, so it causes even more suffering for him.

I don't really understand why it's so funny to people to poke fun at characters with or for bad hygiene. Like, firstly it's... just not a funny thing/topic? And secondly I'm sure there are people uncomfortable with it because they have bad hygiene or lower than "socially acceptable" hygiene due to mental illness and feel they're being laughed at as well for their hygiene. That's definitely a stereotypical mindset and something society does to make fun of people less fortunate than them, be it physically, mentally or both (like not having access to bathing.

Rich people can bathe whenever they want and often in media look down on "stinky people" who are always the poor, generally living in the slums). It's a very unfortunate dominant mindset and almost always comes from people who are more well off and haven't experienced it for themselves to realize how awful it can be (and there are of course people who don't need to experience something to know how bad it is, and I wish there were just more people like that).

I just don't understand what's so funny about hygiene. If anything it just feels like people laughing at the concept of someone not being up to society's standards about health, and it's what literal kids do to make fun of each other. Like, if someone smells bad, I feel like we should be more concerned about the person and why that is... and that would be the case if society raised its people to think that way, but since society raised people to be the opposite (to make fun of smelly people), most people who haven't experienced it for themselves make fun of it.

Like... idk am I missing something lol, I just don't see the humor in someone smelling bad. Even without considering any implications behind it I still don't see the humor in it. Considering Dimitri's circumstances though it just feels very wrong to see people make fun of him for that. I know fans of his that do it are doing it harmlessly and most likely wouldn't make fun of real people for similar things, but it just doesn't sit right with me. There's just nothing amusing about poor hygiene.

Using it as fuel to hate on him though is just is a show of someone's true character and who they really are. :/ Anyone who makes fun of him for his hygiene and mental illness are the kind of people who look down on people with those problems and deserve to experience it for themselves to see just how awful that shit can be. It being fictional doesn't change the fact that it's a show on someone's true character to be able to make fun of someone suffering, and especially to the extent Dimitri does.

Like yes, Edelgard suffered, but she has her own way of moving past it. She's not suffering in the same way as Dimitri or handling it the same way and comes across as "strong" for that - another societal mindset from people who think it's "strong" to not show that you're suffering or have suffered. It's how she handles it, sure, and that's fine... but it's people's reactions to how differently they handle their trauma that's so obnoxious.

People can only be pushed so far, and people hate on Dimtiri for his violence despite that being part of his illness and trauma. Hating on people for being violent as a result of their feelings or past is an awful thing and I really think anyone who can hate on a good and well meaning/intentioned person (real or fictional) simply because they're violent toward bad things needs some serious introspection (like Dimitri having violent reactions to seeing innocents being slaughtered in front of him at Remire. It was an impulsive reaction that he would've hid if he could have, but he wasn't able to).

Like oh no, how dare someone be violent and aggressive toward murderers! How dare someone say off with their head when they've done terrible things! Not everyone is perfectly peaceful and puritan. Hell, Edelgard isn't either and chooses violence as her first and foremost answer to everything, and only considers "negotiations" (i.e. anything that will benefit her/the Empire and only her) if she's losing and only stands to gain from them.

Her first solution to everything is violence, and yet Dimitri is the one who gets shat on for... being violent. Because of his trauma and illness specifically, both in game and out. But since Edelgard has been able to moved past her trauma for the most part and has a different way of handling it that "looks better", he looks "bad" for not having gotten past his trauma yet. Good for her to be able to handle it the way she does, but why is it "bad for him" that he can't handle it "better"?

#DCB Ask #skybluelion #using mental illness as a gotcha against someone isn't cool and doesn't make you cool #it makes you a terrible person and very disgusting. using it as an excuse and fuel to #shit on someone is disgusting. BLAMING people for what they say/do for their mental illness is disgusting #the whole ''it's your fault you're like this'' mentality is the most disgusting gross horrific thing #it doesn't matter what the illness is. it's not someone's fault that they have it #you can dislike Dimitri as a character without using very real real life examples as fuel #bc that shit just expresses exactly how you feel abt real ppl with those problems #it's just admitting it via a fictional setting to avoid the backlash you'd get if you said that shit to real people #I know most Edelgard stans use that shit as fuel just to hate on him bc they just don't like him opposing her #and so use any reach they can get to hate on him but to pick those factors specifically is very telling #ESPECIALLY coming from the character who plans to make a Fodlan where only strong-by-her-definition ppl #will actually thrive and the rest will just rot bc ''it's their own fault they're weak''#same exact energy as ''it's their fault the mentally ill live like they do''#like damn man you know many mentally ill ppl would LOVE to be mentally NOT ill and live and thrive and do great things???#I can't speak for every Dimitri fan but as someone with mental illnesses and heavy fatigue and no real talented physical capabilities #a character like him is an example of and an inspiration for mentally ill ppl being able to actually be seen as normal #and to exist happily and to be able to get by in life and have chances like anyone else #I remember when the game came out how so many ppl applauded AM as a positive spin for the mentally ill #but that quieted down when the game wasn't new anymore and all that was left was the vocal discourse #unfortunately that resulted in us witnessing all the worst people showing their true colors

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ptolemia · 11 months ago

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“Love itself is revolutionary and if you can’t see that then you should replay the game” oh yeah it’s pretty blatant and obvious I mean a fucking blind mole could see it. There’s a difference between playing it and understanding the message and then playing it through a shipping lense in order to make up shit that never happened so you could make mid fics + art while also ignoring the character’s actual traits.

Some people just like to frollick through media cuz the characters are hot and they need some masturbation material.

… yeah? Life is short I hope everybody who wants to frollick and jack off has the opportunity to do both as often as possible.

#and I hope everyone who wants to make art gives themselves the grace to make bad art #and I hope that people understand that perhaps the art people create for free for love as transformative fan work #does not represent their entire understanding of the source media #but rather that it’s something they wanted to see and were inspired to make #people contain multitudes #and we are so rarely privy to all of them #also bad art or mid art or whatever you want to call it #is a necessary process in the creation of good art #and anyway we all wildly disagree on where the good/bad line even is so #I don’t know #look I’m not immune to being annoyed by people doing harmless things but generally I think it’s an unhelpful impulse #you gotta give folks the grace you would want to be given #there’s too much actually wrong in the world to waste time stressing over other peoples fun #disco elysium #ask

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medicinemane · 2 months ago

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#you know it sucks that the one thing that I could make money off of; that I repeatedly have people say #'wow; that's so good; you could make money off that'#is something that these days is just... fucking hard as fuck to monetize #hard to explain without going into details; and if you knew you'd see why I'm not going into details #but like... I've probably legit had... minimum 5 people; but probably more like 20 say that I could make money off this #and it's like you're right... I have a niche and I know what I'm doing with it... but... there's... nowhere to host it #the people who the niche is going to appeal to (and it is super niche) that I've reached out to tend to love it... just what they want #and yeah... I probably could make money off it; and... I might even be able to make a living... and I wouldn't mind doing that #just bang some stuff out when inspired; add it... done #but... unless I make my own site I don't really see how I can host stuff anywhere else #the modern internet landscape just... you do specific stuff in a narrow box; or you ain't gonna be playing ball #and so if I host my own site... fuckin... then there's... getting stuff out to the world... and I suck at fucking marketing #and... there's the fact I'm all for criticism; but a lot of people are just nasty #I just kinda... I got stuff I do well enough multiple people have said I should make money off it #but... I'll probably never be able to make money off it #and it sucks... cause man could I fucking use some money; a source of income... and... I don't know #...I don't know that I'd say it adds value to the world; but the same time the people who want that niche clamor for it #I don't know... you probably don't need to know what the fuck I'm talking about; you probably don't want to know #like there's a reason I'm not just coming outright and saying things #it's not like I'm walter white being like 'how sad; the world isn't ready for my meth'... that would be funnier honestly #nah... nothing illegal or shit; just not advertiser friendly let's say #and... and so I don't feel like sharing it here; I'd like to share it in it's own private well marked space where it's like #'you like this niche shit; come on it; you don't have a nice day not stopping by'... but there's nowhere to set that kinda thing up #...I'll show my hand a tiny bit and say this; Ao3 might be a very good fit if only there were fan characters #not sure you can publish just your own works there; but that would be the kinda platform I wanted #...to be sitting on something you're told you could make money on all the time... just sucks... sucks not having a way to make money off it #and the fact it would be a classic money for goods and services kinda thing; not people taking pity on me #why did the one thing I have to offer have to be something like this; you know?#like I tap into something a lot of people don't seem to get; in this situation people don't want a masterpiece #they want something that quickly sets a scene; they want a vignette and that's it

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notmeowse · 19 days ago

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That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

#bioware critical #dragon age critical #veilguard critical #veilguard spoilers #dragon age the veilguard critical #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard

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keferon · 25 days ago

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My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!

The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

Under the cut

————————————

Nobody likes Blurr.

Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?

Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.

Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.

The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.

In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.

Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.

It started out great.

Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.

“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”

Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room

“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”

He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet

“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”

Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.

Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in

“Is the president coming to see us?”

Walking by, Jazz shrugs

“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”

It's not the president

Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up

“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”

Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than

Oh, dear God.

Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.

He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.

Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.

Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door

“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”

Blurr grins.

“A highlight of the show I suppose~”

His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.

Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.

Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.

______________

For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.

Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.

In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.

The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.

Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.

His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.

When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.

The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.

After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.

This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.

Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.

Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.

Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??

To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.

But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.

Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.

Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.

It only takes him a couple days to realize.

Everyone loves Blurr.

But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.

The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.

Blurr looks slightly bored.

“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”

Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything

“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.

(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)

Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.

Swerve swallows awkwardly.

“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”

(Good job...)

Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand

“Well, nice to meet you.”

Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.

“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”

Blurr chuckles.

“I'll be counting on you~”

Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.

The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.

“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?

Swerve stops awkwardly.

“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”

Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in

“Thank you darling.”

From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.

Blurr is an asshole.

And nobody likes him.

He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.

Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.

Blurr treats people like his servants.

The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.

Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.

On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.

The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.

And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.

Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

That's okay.

It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.

He gets upset.

Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.

Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.

Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.

Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.

The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.

At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.

A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.

Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.

He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.

Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.

The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.

Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.

“It was a trap.”

Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.

“What?”

Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.

Swindle makes a second, louder attempt

“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”

A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.

“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”

Swindle rounds his eyes

“Blurr??! Where are you!”

Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.

“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”

The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.

Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.

He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.

Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.

Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.

Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.

Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.

Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.

Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.

“Everyone okay?”

Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie

“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”

Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate

“Fire?”

Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders

“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.

Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”

Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.

“'That's enough time for me.”

Swindle waves his hands

“Are you crazy?”

Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech

“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”

Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”

Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.

Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.

“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”

Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?

Blurr looks nervous.

“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”

And there it is. The good old namelesness.

Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear

“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”

Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back

“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”

“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.

Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.

Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”

Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.

Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.

“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”

He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.

His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.

He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.

He takes his hand.

Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.

“Been inside a working Mech ever?”

Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat

“No.”

The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.

Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.

Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.

“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”

Swerve swallows nervously.

“Understood.”

After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.

Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.

He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.

He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.

The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.

They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.

Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.

Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.

Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.

The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.

Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.

His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.

This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.

Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.

More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.

He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.

Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.

Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.

Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.

Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.

“You were going to mark another spot.”

Swerve nods hurriedly.

“Tailgate is still there.”

Blurr wrinkles his face.

Swerve corrects himself and clarifies

“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”

He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map

“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”

As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look

“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”

Swerve nods.

Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.

His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.

Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.

Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.

Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.

Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.

Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.

Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.

Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.

Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.

The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.

Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--

Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.

In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.

Swindle grasps the radio

“Blurr? BLURR!”

Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...

He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.

The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.

He's not sure how or why he's doing it.

No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.

And him? He disappears.

And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.

All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.

Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.

Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.

Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.

Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.

“I must be seeing things...”

Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.

Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood

“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”

“Swerve.”

“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”

Swerve moves closer and frowns

“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”

Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.

“No...I guess not.”

He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”

Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.

This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?

“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”

Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away

“I needed to know. Before you die.”

“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...

As a last wish?”

Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.

He looks at Blurr.

And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.

He loved an image. And hated an image.

He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.

“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”

He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins

“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”

Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.

The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.

Someone shines a flashlight in his face.

Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.

The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away

“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”

The other medic to the side frowns

“You have zero tact.”

Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.

Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.

“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”

___________

Swerve feels like he's going crazy.

He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.

There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...

“ JAZZ????”

Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.

Jazz waves his hand

“Do I know you?”

Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????

“You're...real...?”

Jazz raises his eyebrows

“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.

But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”

This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....

It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?

But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.

And.

What the..

Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.

“HEY DOC????”

The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches

“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”

Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.

“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”

The Doctor tilts his head.

“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

“Doc do you know where Earth is?”

“Wha...no?”

Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.

“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”

#tf mecha universe #Blurr #Swindle #Swerve #Jazz #Tailgate #Wheeljack #maccadam #Prowl #Jazzprowl happens for like two seconds #mecha writing #mecha bs writing #mecha kef writing

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kujiba · 3 months ago

Text

【Go on and Love Me】

୨୧ — ꒰ male!reader | he/his prounouns | Sagau | Genshinimpact

୨୧ — ꒰ Streamer!Reader who gets sidetracked by people's donations/chats making the genshin characters feel jealous

Ft. Xiao, Wanderer, Kinich, Traveler

A/n: inspired by la2yn0va hsr fic

X I A O

(Name) happily smiled at another donation sent to him after recently completing a natlan quest

"Thanks for the 20 bits donation!"

He thanked the chat with a wide smile, the chat which was filled with people commenting every second flooding the entire screen making (Name) shift his focus to answer their questions about himself.

This cute interaction made (Name) feel warm and lovely in the inside, being able to interact with fans who admired him.

You know who wasn't happy? A dark headed male inside a screen wasn't that happy unlike (Name). Why were these people gifting you so low? Most of all why was (Name)'s attention not on him anymore?

He had to pull alot of strings to make his own crit rise up since (Name)'s luck on the Vermilion domain was absolutely dog shit.

(Name) — Hm? My favorite character in genshin?

Xiao — You called?

Xiao unintentionally blurted that out without any thoughts whatsoever, but when he did realize and saw (Name)'s confused face along with the chat going wild.

Without any choice Xiao did his idle animation to hide his face away from you, he used his mask so that Xiao won't face you for a while since he was in a very vulnerable state

(Name) — New mail? Sweet 300 primos!

(Chat) — Fr? I didn't get any new mail from hoyo yet.

(Name) — Well.. Free primos is free primos

If (Name)'s happy then he'll rest easy today. Hopefully no rumors circulate about what happened earlier.. Self aware fanfics are crazy these days.

W A N D E R E R

Wanderer stared at (Name) blankly, he was too busy thanking people with countless of donations to even realize they were still in a boss fight farming material's for upcoming characters.

Wanderer became (Name)'s fan ever since he saw him at that temporary event named 'Unreconciled Stars Event Quest The Crisis Deepens'.

Smug mf since he made (Name) hit hard pity for him. But was kind enough to give you his c1 after 140 wishes

(Chat) — Why don't you change your main (Streamer Name)?

An irk mark appears on Wanderer's face but wasn't that visible on screen.

Is this swine telling (Name) to replace him with someone else? Hard pass. He was already stolen from (Name)'s attention and now these nobody's are trying to persuade him into maining some other weak random than him.

Just so happen that (Name) spotted a chest nearby and happily went over to open it, Wanderer took this opportunity immediately

(Wanderer) — Unnecessary.

(Chat) — Is it just me or is his voice rougher than usual?

Damn right it's rougher since he just wanted to vent his anger out on any enemies on sight

The chat won't know but what he had said was directly targeted at them, if only he could say every insult known to man right now

So (Name), keep your eyes on him only and no one else, then maybe he'll make his attacks stronger if you comply

(Name) — Well to answer your question earlier chat, no I don't think I'll be changing my main anytime soon. Wanderer's pretty fun to play with.

After (Name) finished talking he took a closer look at Wanderer's face, but his eyes swore Wanderer had a tad bit of pink on his cheeks

His eyes must've been starting to break with the amount of streaming his doing

T R A V E L E R

(Name) had just began to prep for his stream of the week and now he was currently adjusting the Traveler's artifacts to try out a new build

You know what's crazy though? His builds are pretty shitty.

He has the absolute worst luck in artifacts plus in leveling up pieces, most of which usually goes to defense or HP%

But he still hits about 800k regularly with the Traveler! How could he do such thing with only 44.6% Crit rate!?

(Chat) — 1 MILLION?? (Name) are you doing hacks?

(Name) — What? No! Guess my Traveler's just really op

The Traveler is a smug motherfucker

Of course the Traveler wouldn't hit such high numbers without using a...slight adjustment to the system

Sure their pieces are pretty bad but they'll accept anything (Name) had given them! How could they just shake off his hard work on griding for their ascension and talents?

Whenever the Traveler sees (Name)'s shocked expression during the massive crit's appearing on his screen they are damn right happy and overjoyed they managed to satisfy their grace!

(Chat) — Your builds are bad af tho lolol

(Chat) — Why main the Traveler? They're a pretty bad character to main, you should go for Nuevillete or Alhaitham.

The Traveler's good mood immediately faded into dust once he saw the chats text

Are those no lifers saying that they're not fit to be (Name)'s vessel? They're the most perfect one!

What could Nuevillete or whatever character have that they don't? Could they switch elements? Don't think so

If they wanted bigger numbers, the Traveler will show them big numbers all right, if you want them to hit 10 million they're gonna make it happen with just one click

(Name) — Thanks for the suggestion chat but I'm going to stick with the Traveler, I'm already wayyy too attached

The Traveler's mood once again took a 360 and smiled softly at what (Name) said to them, their stomachs fluttering with delight

(Name) is attached to them? No other compliment or praise could ever reach what the Traveler was feeling at the very moment

Their grace! Oh their grace... If only they could just grab onto you and drag you here where you rightfully belong

K I N I C H

Kinich is an upcoming playable character but many in the genshin community have fallen head over heels for him

Yet he couldn't careless about them, after all just being near (Name)'s presence even though it's just by the Traveler's vessel already makes him nice and comfortable

(Name) — Day 10 of saving up for Kinich let's goo

(Chat) — Woah already 200 wishes? You're quick man

(Name) — Can't help it lmao, Kinich seems fun to play and he's really pretty!

(Chat) — He seem's boring though

(Chat) — Dude the dialouge is slightly glitching wtf

The dialouge's glitching is caused by Kinich's embarrassment and rage, he was previously just about to talk till he heard (Name) sing praises about him! How could he not accidentally stutter and mess up the dialouge!?

But on the other hand, the hell did that person meant by he was boring? He wasn't even released yet! This caused Kinich to panic mentally if whether or not you'll change your mind about pulling for him

He stared at you from the screen, clenching his fists tighter by the second. Just a small bit more... Just one more step and he'll be released, then he could really be by your side now.

(Name) — Aw man, hold on chat I gotta pause the stream to fix this glitching

(Name) eventually had to exit the game to try and see what the problem was with his device or if it was overheating again

Meanwhile Kinich was still standing there re-adjusting his thoughts about what just happened. His feelings were all a mixed bag at this point, he sighed rubbing his temples slowly

Ajaw eventually came to his side while looking at him weirdly like he had done something wrong

(Ajaw) — Wow.. Just wow

(Kinich) — Shut up...

To rightfully apologized the system eventually sent 10 wishes in (Name)'s game mail which he was confused at first but eh, more wishes for c6 knich!

Once he becomes playable Kinich would definitely spoil (Name) with high numbers and crit's. He would just have to deal with Ajaw's yapping in the meantime..

So don't get distracted over what those 'Chat' people say about him!

A/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated! Have a nice day(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

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shuafiles · 2 months ago

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poison [l.dh]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | you and haechan have a love for drama, so when things start feeling too predictable, you both devise a plan to keep the spark alive. but as real emotions creep in, you start wondering if you’ve taken it too far.

PAIRING | boyfriend!haechan x afab!reader

CONTENT | smut with no plot, mean girl reader, billionaire haechan, some degrading insults, haechan is a loser for reader, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff! honestly just reader getting lowk insecure and haechan getting mad that she thinks he wud replace her when he's so sickeningly in love with her

WORDS | 3.9k

A/N | inspired by blaire and chuck from gossip girl !!! not totally but kinda.

spotted. lee haechan’s eyes scanning the crowd for his next target. the loud music almost deafening. sweaty bodies on the dance floor. the smell of liquor filling the air. he leaned against the bar, swirling the ice around his drink, when he locked eyes with the woman standing across from him, clad in a tight red dress that caught his attention. she seemed to have been looking at him for a while because once he finally caught her eye, her lips formed a smile, slyly sending him a wave. this was perfect.

haechan raised his glass with a slight nod, making her presence known to him. with hips swaying in confidence, she strolled over to him. she leaned against the bar, yelling out her drink order to the bartender—as if she didn’t come here for one reason only. he nearly missed how she fixed her hair as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. this was all part of her game. good thing haechan loved to play.

haechan smirked, turning his body to face her. “put her drink on my tab.” haechan spoke, loud enough for the bartender to hear, nodding at his request as he continued making her drink.

“you didn’t have to.” the woman said, tucking her hair behind her ear. she gave haechan her name, but he was too disinterested to ask her to repeat it, nodding to her words.

“haechan.” he tilted his head towards her, his eyes dancing over her frame long enough to reel her in.

“i know you.” she giggled, sliding close to him, arms nearly brushing one another. “think everyone in this room does.”

of course, they would. who wouldn't? haechan was the youngest billionaire in the city, the type of man people dreamed of being or fucking. he knew she wasn’t the first person to be drawn by his reputation, and she definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“so, you’re just here… alone?” she asked, placing a hand on haechan’s arm. a bold move. biting her lips as an invitation.

haechan raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a knowing smirk. it was almost too easy. he inched closer to her, the gap between them being dangerously close, enough to keep her hooked. “depends,” his voice low, gaze dropping to her lips. “who’s asking?”

she leaned closer, eyes flickering to his lips, sending him an invitation to take things further. “what if we went somewhere more private?” her voice low and sultry, breath fanning against his skin, her body language insinuating that she wanted more than just small conversations.

“what if i have a girlfriend?” haechan teased.

she let out a laugh as if to brush off his words. “lee haechan doesn’t do girlfriends.” she replied, a playful look on her face. her fingers sliding up his arm. tilting her head until she was close enough to his lips.

just when her lips were mere inches away from his, a loud and commanding voice sliced through the air.

“what the fuck!” there you stood, arms crossed with fire in your eyes as you stared at the scene in front of you. the woman pulled back from the sudden voice. haechan leaned back against the bar with amusement in his eyes. the game was about to get even better.

the women froze, eyes blinking. her expression shifting from flirtation to confusion. “is… something wrong?” she asked, throat dry as you marched towards them.

“yes, actually.” you spat, voice sharp but controlled, the perfect volume to make her squirm. “care to explain why your nasty hands are all over my boyfriend?”

blood drained from her face, her body stepped away from haechan. face flooding with embarrassment as she looked between you and haechan. “wait–i…i didn’t know!” she stammered, voice faltering as she tried to gather herself.

haechan, playing the part perfectly, put his hands up. “baby, i tried to tell her i have a girlfriend. i was just being polite, and she came over to me.” he said, a pleading look on his face that barely concealed his grin. you could see him trying to suppress his laughter, but you kept your angry expression, not wanting to break character.

“i’m so sorry! oh my god, i didn’t– i wouldn't have–” she stuttered,

“next time, maybe check if he’s single before you start whoring yourself at him.” you shot her a pity look; lips twitching into a sarcastic smile. you watched as her face turned crimson, bowing her head in apology. you tsked at her. “well? get your cheap perfume-smelling ass out of here!” waving your hand in exasperation.

she muttered an embarrassed apology before backing away and hastily disappearing into the crowd. the moment she was out of sight, haechan wrapped his arms around your waist, laughter escaping his lips.

“hi.” you greeted him by placing your hands on his chest, a flirty smile plastered on your face.

“hi, baby.” haechan kissed your temple. “you are way too good at this.” he murmured, eyes filled with amusement as he pulled you close.

“oh, please.” you slid your hands up to his shoulders, leaning into him. “you were practically begging for me to come and save you.”

haechan chuckled, his fingers tracing small circles on your back–a small habit of his. “maybe. but admit it, you enjoyed every second of it.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips gave your expression away. “fine. but next time, maybe don’t let them get too close.” you tilted your head. sending him a warning glare.

haechan leaned forward, lips brushing against one another.. “don’t worry, princess. you know i only want you.” his voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper. his words sending sparks to your stomach. you love it when he’s like this, so loyal and so needy for you.

this game was your very own taste of poison—a mix of jealousy, excitement, and danger. it was intoxicating, the way it made your heart race, the thrill of testing each other’s limits. but along with the thrill, there was lingering pain every time you saw haechan in the arms of another woman. but you decided to shake it off, after all, it was you who he was coming home to.

you closed the gap between your lips, savoring his taste. he reciprocated your eagerness, his grip on your waist tightening as his leg went in between your thighs. your dress nearly hiking up from the contact.

“what do you say, let’s get out of here?” haechan mumbled against your lips, his hand reaching for the hem of your dress to pull it down and avoid exposing you to the crowd. you were his, after all. no one else’s.

“hi, princess.” haechan greeted you with a quick, soft peck on the lips as you entered his penthouse. his cologne filled the air, blending with the subtle scent of leather and warm spices that filled the room. it had been a few days since you saw him, and something about the way he looked now—so comfy and domesticated—made your heart flutter, even after all this time.

“so,” haechan started as you both settled down on the couch. “there’s this new lounge downtown that opened up, i hear it's pretty popular. want to check it out? have some fun?” his lips curled into a smirk, brows wiggling slightly as his arms rested on the couch behind your back.

you tried to fight off the way your eyes nearly rolled behind your head. right. the game. it’s not like you hated it, in fact, you were the one who suggested it at first. before you met haechan he had this playboy image attached to him, a reputation for never settling down, always chasing after a girl. you heard the gossip, the way people talked about him like he was some forbidden fruit that you taste once and never again. the games, in some sick twisted way, were a way to keep him off his feet while reminding him that he belonged to you.

deep down, you couldn’t help but feel that he’ll never be satisfied with just you.

“baby?” haechan pulled you out of your trance, watching you with worried eyes. “are you okay? do you not want to?” his hand reached for the ones in your lap, caressing the skin lightly.

you tried to force a smile, shaking your head. “it’s not that.” chewing on your bottom lips as you tried to think of the words. “sometimes i just wonder… if these games are all we have.” you admitted, head low as you avoided his gaze.

haechan’s eyebrows furrowed, gaze sharpening as he watched you. “what do you mean?” his voice softened.

you took a deep breath, looking down at your intertwined hands. “i only suggested this because… because i was scared?”

“what are you scared of, princess?” with his free hand, he grasped your chin with his thumb and index finger, tilting your head to face him. his eyes flickering all over your face. cheeks burning from his intense gaze.

you stayed silent for a second, pondering of what to say. “i was scared you’d get bored of me. you had this reputation, haechan.” you started, his expression turning sour from your confession. “i-i didn’t know if i was enough to keep you interested, and i thought if we kept things exciting, you wouldn't go back to that life.”

something shifted in haechan as soon as you finished talking. his soft, warm look had vanished and got replaced by something sharp, something angry. he dropped his hand from your face, his jaw tightening as he stood up, turning away from you. you heart dropped at this state, worried you offended him.

“are you serious?” haechan ran his hands through his hair. “you think i’m only interested in you because of… because of these games?” he turned to face you.

you swallowed, a wave of regret washing over you. “i didn’t mean–“ you stood up, facing him. his frame towering over you.

“do you think that low of me?” haechan’s jaw clenched, he couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth “do you think i’d get bored and… leave you for someone else?”

“haechan, that’s not what i mean.” you reached for his hand, but his body was stiff, still, he let you hold his hand. “it’s just– i don’t know… you never really settled down before. i thought you needed something to keep things interesting.”

“after everything we’ve been through, you still think i’d leave you the second things get a little… normal?” his voice raw, the hurt evident in his tone. you have never seen him this upset, so vulnerable. you felt like shit.

haechan has never once shown you anything to make you doubt his love. it was rooted in your insecurity that you think he’d get up and leave.

“i just,” you paused, carefully studying his expression. his forehead creased from the way his eyebrows were furrowed. your thumb drew circles on the back of his hand. “didn’t want to lose you.”

“i know you’re worried because of my… past.” his voice grew softer, his other hand reaching for yours. “you know that’s not who i am anymore, y/n. you changed that. do you even realize that?” his gaze burned into you, his frustration turning into assurance. “if you think i need some damn game to stay interested, then i guess i have to remind you.”

“remind me what?” you questioned, his fingers tugging you close to him.

“of how much i love you.” haechan leaned down, his body’s warmth engulfing you. “of how you’re the only girl for me.” his lips crashed into yours. you gasped at the sudden movement before shutting your eyes and feeling him against you.

his hands grasped your hips, pulling your body close to him. his leg in between your thighs, and you were thankful you decided to wear a skirt today. his grip on your hips tightened as you moaned against his lips once he slipped his tongue past your mouth, making sure to cover every corner. you couldn’t help but grind your hips against his thigh, needing some sort of friction. he noticed you were getting needy, so he pulled away, smirking at your flustered state before grabbing you by the hand and guiding you to his bedroom.

haechan wasted no time pushing your body down on the soft mattress, yelping when he suddenly stripped your skirt and underwear off of your body in one swift motion. your bottom half completely bare as he shamelessly stared at your dripping pussy.

“hyuck!” you whined. you were half-naked, yet he was still fully clothed. he let out a chuckle before grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. his fingers grabbed the hem of your top before sliding it off you. leaving you bare and ready for him.

haechan pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he sunk to his knees, his face right in front of your glistening core. he leaned forward, taking a whiff of your scent, letting out a groan once the smell hit his nostrils. “can’t believe you think i’d exchange this for anything.” he wrapped his arms around and over your thighs, holding you steady as you squirmed underneath his touch. “guess i have to show you how much i need you, princess.” he murmured before attaching his lips to your clit.

haechan sucked on the bundle of nerves, lapping his tongue around your folds. your hand gripping his hair, pulling him close to you. he had you planned out like a map, knew all the tips and tricks to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he darted his tongue out to your entrance, making you buck your hips upward.

“o-oh god.” you cried out, back arching against the mattress. you needed him. craved for him.

haechan hummed against your pussy, his cock growing harder with every moan you released. he loved it when you were weak from his touch—in this case, tongue. he pulled away from your cunt, a string of saliva forming. he retracted one arm from your thigh, bringing his fingers up to your clit. your legs twitching once you felt his long fingers gliding along your folds, feeling your slick mixed with his saliva. without warning, he sunk two digits into your wet hole. lewd sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“how could i–” haechan curled his fingers, making your legs close from pleasure, but his grip prevented you from doing so. “ever get bored–” he inserted another finger, relentlessly fucking your hole, stretching you out in the process. “of my sweet sweet slut–” he increased his pace, making you cry out of pleasure. “when you take my fingers this good?”

you trembled against him, stomach contracting from the immense pleasure he was giving you. he knew you were close once he felt you clench around his fingers. he took this as a sign to return his lips to your clit, sucking harshly on the bud. matching the movement of his tongue with his fingers. your grip on his hair tightened, your hips pushing down to meet his touch. his fingers effortlessly sliding in and out of your core, curling it with every thrust.

“h-hyuck, so close, please.” you moaned, your head lifting to face him. his eyes meeting yours, smirking once he saw your face twisting into pleasure. his ego growing once he saw how hungry you were for him.

“you taste so good, baby.” haechan grunted, pressing his tongue flat on your clit. desperate to bring you to your climax, he increased his pace. the sound of your pussy squelching reached your ears. “come on, baby. cum on my fingers.” with his encouragement, you came hard on his fingers. a string of curse words escaping your lips, hand gripping the sheets beneath you as you threw your head back against the bed.

haechan’s movements halted, pulling his tongue away from your clit. reclaiming his fingers that were buried in you, each digit covered in your cum. he wasted no time cleaning his fingers with his tongue, tasting your sweetness till it was no more.

he pulled his body away from you, making you frown as you tried to catch your breath. he stripped himself out of his pants and shirt, discarding them somewhere in the room. you kept your gaze on him, his tip red and angry, slapped against his stomach. you propped yourself up by your elbows, climbing higher on the bed to give him some space. he flashed you a sweet smile, climbing in between your legs. his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, getting a taste of your cum from his tongue.

“on your stomach.” he mumbled against your lips. you pulled away, your face burning with anticipation. you twisted your body, laying flat on your stomach. he grabbed one of his pillows, prompting the soft material beneath you. your ass on full display for him, making him groan. he wrapped his fingers around his cock, pumping his length while his free hand took a handful of your ass, squeezing the skin, pushing your hips against his hand. “my good girl.”

haechan leaned down, pressing soft wet kisses on your back, legs straddling the back of your thighs. “stick your ass up a bit for me, baby.” following his instructions, you hiked your ass up for him. “god, you’re too perfect.” he gripped his cock with one hand, lining himself up to your entrance before sinking inside you. he hissed as your pussy perfectly swallowed him like you were made for him. “jesus–how are you still so tight for me?” he shifted his hands to the swell of your ass, gripping on it.

“fuck, hyuck.” you moaned as you adjusted to his size. you seemed to always forget how big and thick his cock was. “you’re so big, baby.” your walls were burning, but soon enough, the discomfort slowly turned into pleasure as you felt every inch of his cock.

haechan almost growled, desperate to move. you turned your head to the side, catching his eye. you gave him a slight nod, signaling him to move, which he does gladly. he started to move his hips against you. “god, baby, you take my cock so fucking well.” his hands flat on your ass as he started to increase the pace of his thrusts. you lifted your hips to meet his thrusts, making him grunt. his hands moving to grip your shoulders, steadying himself as he buried his cock deep into you. you couldn't help the moans that slips past your lips as the tip of his cock repeatedly kissed your cervix. “your pussy was made for me.”

haechan’s hand moved to collect your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tugging on it with every thrust of his hips. your breath came out in short gasps, tears welling your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“f-faster, hyuckie.” you managed to gasp out. stars clouding your vision as he increased his speed. you arched your back, pushing your hips down on his cock. his hand moving down to your throat, pulling your body flush against him.

“i’m all yours, baby.” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “never doubt my love for you again.” you grew weak at his words, legs shaking as he continued slamming his hips against yours. “lay on your back.” he pulled out of you, nearly feeling lonely from the empty feeling. following his instructions, you laid on your back—secretly loving the way he bosses you around.

he positioned himself between your legs, leaning down to attach his lips to yours. you moaned into the kiss, arms flying around his neck to pull you close to him. he aligns his cock back to your entrance, easily slipping it in. your face scrunching in pleasure as his thrusts gradually increased pace. his lips detaching from yours before trailing kisses down to your chest.

haechan’s mouth met your breast, entrapping the bud around his lips before sucking it. his hand giving your other breast all the attention by circling the sensitive nub with his fingers. your back arching from the sensation, pushing your breast further to his face. his cock pounded deeper into you as he felt you clench around him, your orgasm forming at the pit of your stomach. he released your nipple, making a popping sound in the process. “is this what you wanted?” he smirked, watching you writhe beneath him. “to remind you that you’re the only girl that gets to feel my cock?” his hand sliding down to your clit, pinching it, making you gasp. “to fuck you dumb til you can’t speak?” your mind was getting hazy, you merely nodded at his words, lips parting as he fills you up perfectly. “look at me, baby.” he commanded, your gaze meeting his. his eyes dark, filled with hunger as he stared you down. “i love you.”

the familiar knot formed in your abdomen as his fingers continued to circle your clit while simultaneously slamming his hips into yours. his thrusts in perfect rhythm as you neared your climax. he continued whispering the nastiest things in your ear, making sure to get it into your head that he belonged to you, and you only.

“i-i’m gonna cum, please, hyuckie.” you managed to whine out, tears forming your eyes.

the consistency of his thrusts getting sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up. “does my pretty little slut want me to be filled with my cum, hm?”

“yes, please.” your nails digging into his shoulders. “want your cum in me.”

haechan leaned down to kiss you once more. your release washing over you with a few more thrusts. your body trembling as you came all over his cock. your walls contracting triggering his own orgasm, his cum releasing inside you. his body collapsing on top of you as he pulled his cock from you. his cum trickling down your pussy.

your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, sweat sticking to your bodies. haechan detached himself from you, landing on the spot next to you. he turned to face you, eyes searching yours. “this isn’t just some passing thrill for me, y/n.” he reminded you, hand reaching out to caress your cheek as you faced him with soft eyes. “you’re the person i want to build something real with. i belong to you, you belong to me.”

you could see how much he meant his words, how deeply he felt for you.

“i love you, haechan.” you whispered, leaning into his touch. he pulled your body close to him, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“i love you, too. no more games, okay? just you and me.”

just the two of you, raw and real, was more than enough.

#lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan imagines #haechan smut #donghyuck imagines #nct imagines #donghyuck smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct x reader

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https-lvesick · 2 months ago

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LEE KNOW AS YOUR ROCKSTAR BOYFRIEND

❪ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ❫ 𝓒 ontent ⋮ protective boyfriend!minho, fem!reader, smut, fingering, creampie, public sex, oral sex, overstimulation

𝒩 otes ⋮ this headcanon was born because @vanesycho is a freaky slut and i love her sm for that! luv u bae 🤍

rockstar boyfriend!minho who looks cold and serious most of the time, but never for you. of course, it's his nature, he's like that always, but with you he gets more comfortable and tries to show his joyful and goofy side.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who, despite being super famous, is private and hates when people, even his fans, force their way into his private life. if he's not on the stage, he's a normal person who doesn't like being interrupted, especially with you.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who hides you no matter what. is not like he's ashamed of dating you, definitely not! this man worships you as if you're a goddess and wouldn't mind telling the world he's yours, but you're not a public figure and you didn't sign for this when you started dating him. he knows how much people can be nosy, so he protects you with his life.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who, despite hiding your identity, has no shame in showing he's all yours. he is often seen wearing a silver band on his right ring finger and never takes it off. the inside of the ring has your name engraved, and it'll only be taken off when replaced by your wedding band.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who carries your name on him not only on the ring but literally in his heart. he has your name tattooed in a fine line right on his chest.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who sends you messages throughout the day when he's on tour, just to keep you informed about him and what he's been doing.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who always writes the most meaningful songs when they're about you.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who is the sexiest playing the bass and you can't help but think about the times those fingers were on you.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who doesn't even let you breathe as soon as he comes home and takes you in his arms, kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who can't put in words how much he missed you, instead, he fucks you like an animal, showing how much your missing presence affected him.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who takes you to his concerts when they're settled in your town as his lucky charm. and he's excited to sing his new song about you to the very woman who inspired the song.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who fucks you before his concert, filling you up with his cum, telling you the most perverted things he'd wanna do to you.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who teases you during the performances because he knows the moment he's done, you'll jump on him desperately, not even letting him take you to a more private place, only telling the staff to get out.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who fucks you to his own songs about you because you want it. telling him he has te most sensual songs and voice to get you worked up easily.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who loves bury his face between your legs after a rough and stressing day at the company. making you cum in his tongue countless times, overstimulating you before fucking you for real.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who takes his duty as a boyfriend real serious and takes you to the most captivating places as a date, making you feel special every minute.

rockstar boyfriend!minho who lets you know you are the only person that really worth it in his life and shows it with words and actions.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines

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littlegrapejuice · 9 days ago

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A Side Of Your Number | FC43

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: You work as a waitress at the restaurant where the grid is having their 2024 drivers' dinner, during which you catch the attention of a rookie.

Author's Note: y'all can't imagine how much i love this one like i was so inspired when i saw the pics of the drivers' dinner that i immediately ran to my f1 google docs🤭 i hope y'all enjoy, this is my 1st time writing for franco!!

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

“Good evening and welcome!” You exclaimed as you smiled at the drivers entering the room.

Everyone walked past you with a smile and went to get seated. The last one of the lot was Lewis Hamilton, who had organised the dinner.

“Hey, thanks for having us.” Lewis put his hand on your shoulder with a grateful look in his eyes.

“No problem, sir.”

“How many times have I told you to stop that?” Lewis sighed as he shook his head. “I’ve known you for years, and I have to remind you of that every time I see you.”

“Usually I do it just to annoy you,” you explained with a teasing smile. “Tonight however, it’s my job to be polite and professional so you don’t really have a choice. It’s the restaurant’s policy.”

“Fine. But don’t abuse the title please.”

“Of course,” you replied with a nod. “Sir.” You almost laughed as Lewis’s lips twitched. “Okay, sorry. I’ll just let you join the others then I’ll come give y’all the menus.”

Lewis did as you said and walked to the table where everyone was already sitting, before taking a seat with his current teammate George on his right while his future teammate Charles was on his left.

True to your words, you were bringing a menu for everyone a couple minutes later.

“I’ll let you make your choices and come back soon”, you told them before going back to the counter to get your notepad and pen.

As the drivers were deciding what to get, the atmosphere was light-hearted and cheerful. Everyone was exchanging their doubts about what to eat tonight, while others were giving advice on the food they were already familiar with. Having eaten there several times in the past – hence why he was friendly with you, Lewis was able to share his knowledge with the people around him. While George and Carlos were listening to his every word, Charles and Pierre were debating about how to approach the recent drama that had been occurring. On the opposite side of the table, another world champion had captured his friends’ attention. Franco, ever the fanboy, was nodding at everything Max was saying while Lando and Oscar had a similar goal as the French speakers on the other side.

As it had been deliberate to have Max and George sitting at opposite ends, the majority of drivers were hoping to get some new comments on the situation without being too obvious. The two protagonists of this feud were honestly aware of that, but didn’t let it show on their respective faces and decided on having a peaceful night.

When you saw that most of them had put their menu down and heard the chatter getting a bit louder, you took that as your cue to get everyone’s order. You felt lucky that some drinks and meals had been chosen several times, meaning that you didn’t have to write too many things. Your way of organising your notes was pretty simple: next to each item, you were just writing the number of the drivers as you knew them all by heart. Soon enough, you were bringing everyone their drinks after you had sent the food orders to the kitchen. Even though almost all the grid was there, you didn’t have any issue in navigating around the huge table that was accommodating seventeen drivers. Starting from the furthest side away from the counter, you made your way up to the other side of the table. Everyone was being really nice to you and thankful for your service, which made Lewis smile as he was glad that your work was being appreciated.

Almost done, you now only had four drinks left to bring to Max, Lando, Oscar, and Franco. Although you were a big Mclaren fan – more of the drivers than the team nowadays, you managed to remain professional. Lewis knew about your preference, but never took it the wrong way because you had once told him that you became a Mclaren fan when he was still with them. Therefore, he had no right to judge you for playing favourites when he was the original reason for that. Moreover, he knew that you were supporting him as an individual driver, whatever team he was on.

You had to admit that you were also nervous to serve Max as the Dutch was really intimidating. However, the smile he gave you when you set down his drink was the most genuine you had ever seen and all your worries went away in less than a second. Finally, you gave his drink to Franco. You didn’t have a strong opinion on him yet. Sure he was cute and had a certain charm to him from what you had seen in interviews, but you still had a hard time judging his racing as he hadn’t been in Formula One for long and had probably been pulled from Formula Two way too early. And despite the points he had scored during his first races, he had crashed several times recently so you’d need to see him do a full season one day in order to rank him as a driver and not only as a person. Safe to say, you were quite neutral to face him compared to the others. Still, you offered him your kindest smile when you put down the glass on the table.

“And this is for you, enjoy!” Despite using your customer service bubbly personality, you were truly happy to do your job tonight and no one could deny it.

Turns out that someone else was now also very happy that you were doing this job. See, as you barely had time to remove your hand from the drink you had set down, someone else’s was grabbing it. You didn’t really register the physical touch as you honestly didn’t mind – it didn’t happen that often, but the other person was surprisingly perturbed. So while you were waiting for them to remove their hand from yours, it seemed that they hadn’t even realised it. Franco, who was the one with his hand around the glass and around your hand, was looking up at you. He blinked a couple times and opened his mouth to speak before following your gaze that was focused on the drink.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Franco apologised as he immediately retracted his hand, letting you put yours back to your side.

“No problem, don’t worry!” You smiled at the young driver before taking a look around the table. “I’ll be back with the first dishes soon guys, enjoy your drinks in the meanwhile!”

Everyone thanked you before they began clinking their glasses together, and once again the chatter got louder. The drivers were comparing drink choices and their tastes, as they shared souvenirs of past dinners. One driver, though, was a bit more silent than others. Franco was currently nodding along to whatever story Yuki was telling about one of his trips, and just quietly sipped his drink. Easy to say that he wasn’t going to remember anything as it seemed that his mind was occupied with something else – or rather someone else. His eyes kept drifting back to you, back facing the drivers as you were organising some shelves behind the counter. If one wasn’t really paying to where Franco’s gaze was directed, they could’ve just thought him overwhelmed from the setting. That was what Esteban had assumed.

“Hey man,” he called out to catch Franco’s attention. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm, yeah, yeah…” Franco mindlessly replied. “All good, don’t worry.”

Esteban didn’t have much time to wonder about whether to drop the subject or not due to Franco’s lack of convincing, that someone else had picked up on the short conversation.

“Franco, mate, everything alright?” Lando questioned, keeping a low voice as to not alert the whole table.

Now realising that he was worrying the others and catching too much attention, Franco sat up before repeating his previous words:

“I’m good, yeah. Sorry, I got a little bit distracted there. Just need to eat and I’ll be energised again, no worries!”

“I see,” Lando replied. “I get you, you’re young and still growing! You’re absolutely not distracted because you got a crush on our waitress.”

“Exactly,” Franco agreed before he processed the last sentence. “Wait– what did you say?”

“Lando said that you definitely need food while you’re still growing,” Oscar repeated. “Even though he’s barely a couple centimetres taller than you.”

“I meant growing as in growing up”, Lando retorted.

“Well, you’re not that much older than him anyways.” Oscar shrugged before going back to his conversation with Liam and Yuki who were sitting on his right.

While Max was quick to replace Oscar in teasing Lando, Franco was experiencing an entire life crisis regarding the conversation that had just happened. Did he imagine Lando’s words? Did no one else hear that? He wondered as he looked around: Esteban appeared to have stopped caring as he was talking with Nico about Haas, and the other drivers sitting across Franco didn’t seem to have paid any attention to him as they all deemed him fine. Franco truly thought he had gone crazy – he probably had. First, he loses all ability to speak because a pretty girl is serving him. And now, he can’t even differentiate his imagination from reality? He really wasn’t acting like himself. Franco was usually the one to flirt and make people nervous, never the opposite – except that one time when Oscar said he was funny in his interviews and that he needed to learn Spanish. He had to fix the situation, no more getting flustered because of eye contact with you.

Safe to say: it was easier said than done, because it was happening again.

As you started to bring everyone’s food, Franco couldn’t help his gaze following your every move. He had to think of something to make you nervous, not him! And now that he was remembering the moment from ten minutes ago, he realised that you hadn’t even done anything special for him to act like that. You were just doing your job and were as nice as the next person, so why was Franco already smitten from a thirty second interaction? He sighed as he tried to find a way to reverse the roles, which was a difficult task for him and proved impossible when you were once again in front of him.

“There you go, Franco!”

Your smile didn’t fully reach your eyes, but Franco could tell it was sincere; and how he was loving it! And did his name ever sound as good as when you were the one to say it? Was he the only one whom you had addressed by their first name? He wouldn’t be able to tell, Franco had kinda muted everything around him until you had reached him. Realising he hadn’t even replied after you had set down his plate, he quickly tried to thank you before you would be leaving the table as you had just given Oscar his food.

“Excuse me!” He called, albeit loudly which made him cringe that he would catch the other drivers’ attention, and waited for you to turn to him. When you did so and looked at him, he talked again. “Just forgot to thank you for the food, sorry.”

“Oh, that's no problem. Don’t worry about it, enjoy!”

“Thanks, again.”

Oh God, why was he so nervous to speak to you? Franco wanted to facepalm at how badly he had handled the situation. You would never be able to take him seriously after that, would you? Not wanting to keep embarrassing himself, Franco decided to start eating before someone would call him out on his actions. However, it didn’t take long as he felt someone nudging his leg from under the table. Franco looked up and his eyes met Liam’s.

“So,” Liam began. “I forgot to thank you for the food, sorry!” The blonde laughed at his own imitation of Franco, which amused the other drivers that had watched the interaction between you and the Argentinian.

“Oh my God…” Franco sighed and put his head in his hands. It was over for him, everyone would tease him and he would have to find a job in another racing category to be left alone.

“I don’t blame you,” Lando said. “She’s nice and she has a sweet smile. Is she your type?”

“She doesn’t need to be his type for him to like her”, Nico added. He turned slightly to be able to face Franco before continuing. “You should shoot your shot as you kids say nowadays, can’t hurt to try.”

“Agreed,” Yuki nodded. “We’ll make you look good in front of her, don’t worry.”

The other drivers confirmed and Franco thought it would be over for now, before someone kept the conversation going:

“Who are we making look good for whom?” Alex asked as he hadn’t been listening, having been talking with his future teammate Carlos.

“Franco”, Esteban replied. “He likes the waitress.”

“Hey!” Franco exclaimed. “Can we not air my business like that? I’m pretty sure we could be discussing other gossip.”

“But you’re not denying it,” Valtteri pointed out.

To that, Franco had nothing to reply for a good minute.

“I don’t like her, I barely know her.”

“Then get to know her,” Liam said as if it was obvious before he took a piece of food to eat.

“The kid is right,” Valtteri agreed.

“Thank you!” Liam was grateful to be supported.

“Lewis,” Valtteri eventually called to his friend who was a couple seats away. “What can you tell us about her?”

“Hmm?” The eight seven-times world champion looked up from his plate, fork in his mouth. He was confused about what he was gonna get involved in as he had spent the last half hour talking with Charles and George, the three of them having been in their own little bubble. He swallowed his food before wiping his mouth. “What’d I miss?”

“The waitress, what can you tell us about her?” Valtteri repeated.

“Why?” Lewis raised an eyebrow, confused as to why you were the topic of the table.

“I think little Franco over here wants to ask her out”, Carlos replied. He hadn’t given his opinion on the discussion yet, happy to just be a spectator and listen.

“I never said tha–” Franco began to argue.

“You want to date her?” Lewis asked, the serious tone obvious in his voice. At that, everyone around the table fell silent.

“I don’t know!” Franco desperately answered, stressed by the fact that Lewis was now getting involved.

“So you don’t like her?” Lewis rested his chin on his hands, to better focus on and assess Franco’s reactions. “She’s not to your liking? Not kind enough perhaps? Not hardworking enough?”

“I–” Franco was at a loss for words. He was truly about to shit himself and disappear from the face of the earth. Right now, he was almost glad to not have a seat next year because he didn’t think he would be able to handle facing the drivers anymore after this whole chaos. “She seems really nice, yeah.”

“She is,” Lewis simply stated.

“And yeah, she’s pretty.” His gaze landed once again on you. Fortunately for him, you were far enough from the table to not hear anything, but he was still able to look at your profile while you were chatting with some of the cooks. To his luck – really? – you had decided right at this moment to turn back to quickly check on how the drivers’ dinner was going and your eyes met his for a split second. Just a smile from you was enough to make Franco flustered again, making him drop the eye contact immediately. You went back to your conversation, completely unaware of what was happening barely ten metres away from you. When Franco realised that everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to keep going, he gulped. “I guess I wouldn’t mind being friends with her.”

“Just friends?”

“That’d be the main goal indeed”. Franco decided to be more confident in himself, and even though he was facing his idol, he had to be tough. “But becoming more could eventually be a great bonus.”

As Lewis kept asking questions about Franco’s intentions for another minute, which the young driver didn’t hesitate in answering, the rest of the drivers were still silent. They were all absolutely invested in the conversation unfolding before them, their heads turning left and right as if they were watching a tennis match. If the drama between George and Max had been the most interesting thing at the beginning of the night, it was now the least of their worries. Finally, the exchange between Lewis and Franco was coming to an end – almost to everyone’s disappointment as the entertainment would stop.

“Fine”, Lewis said as he let his hands drop back to his side and got more relaxed in his seat.

“Fine?” Franco repeated.

“I’ll give you a chance,” he explained. ‘Can’t say yet that she’ll do the same, but I guess you wouldn’t be too bad for her if anything were to happen.”

“Thanks…” Franco mumbled as he scratched his neck. He was still embarrassed that he had to have this conversation about you with the Sir Lewis Hamilton. At least, it was safe to shoot his shot now.

Not expecting it, you suddenly heard the whole table erupt in cheers and got startled as they were probably the loudest clients you’d ever heard in the restaurant. Looking at the cooks in confusion, you then let out a laugh at the drivers’ happiness. You had no idea what was happening, but you were glad that they were having fun. You knew from Lewis that the relations between drivers weren’t always rainbows and sunshines, but it warmed your heart to see them all getting along for one evening.

Debating if it was your cue to go up to the table when the cheers got quieter, you got a confirmation when Lewis called out your name. You excused yourself to the cooks – telling them to maybe expect orders soon enough – and walked up to the drivers with the same smile you had harboured since the beginning of the evening. At first, you had stopped at the table end that had been closest to you, but Lewis actually made you sign to join him at the other end where he was.

“How’re you doing?” He asked you when you were beside him.

“Good, good. What about you, guys? I heard a pretty nice celebration there.”

“We are indeed celebrating”, Lewis confirmed as he stood up next to you. “Toast with us?”

“I’m working Lewis”, you replied with a sigh. You had abandoned your smile and opted for a straight face that you hoped would remind your friend of your actual duties here.

“Just one drink?” He almost pleaded. “We’ll be very disappointed if you refuse.”

You reluctantly agreed – to which Lewis grinned – and quickly got yourself a drink before you came back to stand by the Brit. Thinking that you could treat yourself, you had taken a beer that you were definitely planning on charging Lewis for.

“So, what are we toasting to?” You wondered as you swirled your drink.

“To us: the 2024 grid. To the new drivers, and to the drivers that have been there for years and will still be there next year. But most importantly…” Lewis took his time glancing at his former partner at Mercedes, before his glance drifted to the others that had limited time left in Formula One. “We toast to the ones that won’t be here with us anymore starting next season. We’ll remember them to have been amongst the twenty best drivers in the world, and we’ll remember their meaningful careers. To us!” Lewis repeated, which was echoed by everyone else around the table.

To say you got chills was an understatement. Lewis’s speech was short, but enough for everyone listening to understand the weight of his words. No matter how long they had been in Formula One for, no matter how long they’ll still be here, no matter their achievements: there will always be someone to tell the stories of the drivers that had once reached the pinnacle of motorsport.

You knew Lewis had never taken his position for granted. He had fought to get to it, fought to stay there for the past seventeen years, and kept fighting to keep his place for the future. You had always admired him for his resilience, and you were always one to admire someone whenever they would reach the top step that was Formula One. Therefore, you were soaking in this moment. A moment shared with the seventeen people around you, whom you would never forget.

Your eyes, once again, met Franco’s. You gave him a discreet nod with a smile and slightly tipped your beer in his direction, as a way to tell him that yes, you would remember even him amongst the greatest. He shyly smiled back, and took a sip of his drink to distract himself from the way your eyes were softly looking at him from afar. After a moment of silence during when everyone had stayed quiet as a way of honouring those around them, you decided to fall back into your work persona.

“Not that I hate getting involved in this little get-together, but I am actually employed to serve y’all and not drink with the clients. Someone,” you emphasised with a look to Lewis, “better remember that.”

“Alright, blame it all on me.” Lewis raised his hands in defence. “I guess it’s time for some desserts then, right?”

The other drivers all agreed with the offer, and you took their plates to bring them back to the kitchen. After you had cleaned the table – except for the drinks that weren’t done yet, you gave everyone a dessert menu and let them make their choices. You came back to the table a couple minutes later to take the final orders, and wrote everything down. When you double-checked that you had seventeen desserts noted, you told the table that you’d be back soon and turned away. However, someone called out to you.

“Excuse me!” You recognised the voice as Lando’s. “You didn’t get Franco’s full order.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologised, wondering what you had missed as you clicked your pen, ready to add anything else.

“What are you doing?” Franco asked the Brit. Although he was whispering, everyone could hear the stress in his voice as he had no idea what to expect.

“So what can I get you?” You looked at Franco and smiled, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted.

Absolutely panicking, Franco didn’t know what to answer. His only option was to look at Lando for an explanation as to what he was expecting him to say, but it turned out to be his biggest mistake. Your gaze followed the direction in which Franco had glanced, and your eyes met Lando’s. He had already been looking at you, a grin on his face as he rested his cheek on his palm.

“He’ll just have whatever he had ordered with a side of your number.”

The entire room – which was honestly just you and the drivers – fell silent. As cringe and embarrassing it was for Lando to say that, he knew it was for the greater good. The dinner would be soon over, everyone would go back to their hotels and immediately go to sleep, due to the busy day waiting for them. So who knows if and when Franco would’ve actually talked to you.

Not knowing what to reply for a few seconds, you then processed Lando’s words and chuckled.

“I’ll see what I can do, we have a very limited stock.” Your eyes went back to looking at Franco, who was blushing. “Can you confirm to me that Lando got your order right, Franco?”

“Y–yeah, that’s what I’d like.” Franco wanted nothing more than to disappear six feet underground right now. “If that’s okay… I would understand if you can’t accommodate that.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, don’t worry. I’ll get back to you soon.”

When you left the drivers to their antics to go relay the orders to the kitchen, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that appeared on your face. It wasn’t everyday that a cute driver was interested in you. Hell! It wasn’t everyday that someone was interested in you, period. You thought about quickly texting Lewis to ask him for his opinion, but decided otherwise when you remembered him telling you about the ‘promising Argentinian who definitely deserved a full-time seat in the future’. You tried to find a way to give Franco your number, which could let you avoid doing so in front of all the drivers. You figured they had already teased him about it if Lando was as involved as he seemed to be, and kept thinking about a solution while you waited for the desserts to be ready.

Eventually, you had found the perfect idea. So when you brought the desserts to the drivers, you put your plan in motion. As you put Franco’s plate in front of him, you managed your best customer service voice along with an apologetic tone:

“I’m truly sorry, but your added request is actually impossible to fulfill at the moment.” You did your best not to laugh at your poor acting, and almost stopped pretending when you saw Franco’s dejected expression. “But, I found another solution to accommodate your needs.”

Confused, Franco tilted his head at you. You then gave him a piece of paper that was folded in two, and he wondered if your number was actually written on it or if it was all an act to reject him nicely. He truly thought you could have been interested too, but maybe the other drivers’ involvement along with him hitting on you at your workplace had been a complete ick. However, when you gave him one last glance before telling everyone to enjoy their food, he could swear you had winked at him. This was a good sign then, right?

As you left the drivers one more time, Franco debated unfolding the paper to read what was written on it. But when he saw that everyone was staring at him, expecting him to read out loud the content of the paper, he actually put it in his pocket. This led to the drivers all sighing of disappointment before they chose to focus on their food.

The rest of the dinner went well. When everyone was done eating, they simply chatted about the upcoming grand prix before it was time to pay and leave the restaurant. The drivers called you back for the bill, which you brought a few minutes later. Not thinking twice, you set it down in front of Lewis.

“I’m actually the one paying,” Valtteri pointed out.

“That’s so nice of you,” you replied. “I honestly think that the oldest should pay, but that’s just my opinion.”

“You wanna bankrupt me or what?” Lewis asked you.

“As if it would do harm to your bank account”, you retorted. “I’m pretty sure the world champion titles paid really well.”

“I can confirm”, Max shouted from the other end of the table.

“We’re settled, don’t worry. It’s my goodbye gift to them”, Valtteri assured you before you gave him the card terminal so that he could pay.

You thanked him and gave him his receipt before putting the terminal back in your pocket. You were about to start cleaning the table and bid the drivers good night when they asked you to take pictures for them. As an amateur photographer, you couldn’t refuse the request and even offered to use the digital camera you always had on you. They gladly accepted and you found yourself taking a dozen pictures of the drivers. You told Lewis that you would send the digitals later tonight, and he thanked you in advance.

It was now time for the drivers to actually leave and get ready for a good night's sleep before their last grand prix of the season. Telling them goodbye one by one and wishing them luck for the race, each driver sent you one last smile before thanking you once again for your wonderful service. The last two left were Franco and Lewis. You felt happy for Franco to be able to hang out so easily with his idol as you could relate to that surreal experience. They approached you while Lewis had his arm around Franco’s shoulders, and a smile was present on both their faces.

“We had a great night”, Lewis told you. “Right, Franco?” The young driver eagerly nodded and Lewis chuckled.

“Glad to know I did my job well. I’ll see you guys soon, yeah? Maybe for next year’s dinner?” You suggested.

“Why not tomorrow?” Lewis countered.

“You wanna have dinner here tomorrow as well?” You asked, confused as to why he hadn’t notified you sooner.

“I meant tomorrow at the track”, Lewis clarified. “And the day after that, and on Sunday for the race.”

“I didn’t buy tickets for this year. I’ll see well enough on my TV, don’t worry.”

“I have tickets for you though. Paddock passes and all”, he explained. “I sent them to you by email earlier during dinner. You’ll come say hi to us, yeah?”

“Oh! Well, yes! Oh my God, thank you so much!” You were absolutely ecstatic to be able to attend the grand prix. Usually, you would watch it from home, especially when you were working that day and didn't have any days off left to use.

“Everything has been arranged with your employer by the way; so you only need to show up every day, tour our garages, and look pretty to watch us race. Sounds good?”

“Sounds absolutely perfect, thank you Lewis.” You were beaming with happiness. “That means I’ll see you tomorrow as well Franco, will I?”

“Yeah of course,” he nodded. “You’ll have to come to me yourself though, I don’t have a way of contacting you.”

“Yet”, you teased with a smile. “Well, not like I don’t appreciate your company, but I need to close and go back home so I’ll have to ask you to leave guys.”

“Sorry,” Lewis and Franco both apologised before they finally left the restaurant.

You waved at them and closed the door as you got ready to finish cleaning up everything. On the other side of the door, the two drivers were now alone as they started making their way outside.

“You’re still not checking her note?” Lewis wondered after a few minutes of silence.

“I don’t know… I’m a bit nervous to read it,” Franco admitted.

“And I’m actually a bit curious to know what it says.”

Knowing that you trusted the Brit, Franco deemed it fine to open your note in front of him as he imagined that you hadn’t written anything indecent. However, when he finally revealed its content, Franco’s eyes widened with surprise and Lewis got even more interested in what it said.

“Ask the seven times world champion”, Lewis started reading out loud over Franco's shoulder. “He should give you my number if he thinks you deserve it (I certainly think you do)”.

While Lewis was laughing at your words, Franco was looking at him expectantly. If he wasn’t stressed enough about asking you out, he was now even more as he realised he had to go through Lewis – again.

“So… hmm…” Franco hesitated for a few seconds. “Is it actually okay if I ask you for her number? I swear I won’t do anything wrong!”

“Don’t worry kid, I trust you on that. Give me a top ten in free practice tomorrow and you got yourself a deal.”

“Okay!” Franco agreed, sudden determination in his voice. “I’ll do my best!”

“I don’t doubt it”, Lewis replied with a proud smile on his face. “Have a good night, Franco. See you tomorrow,” he added as they would be going different ways to their respective hotels.

“Thanks, you too!”

Excited for the next day, Franco had harboured a huge grin while going back to his hotel room. He was confident in his skills. And despite having to drive an old version of his car, half taped-up, he knew he was able to achieve good times tomorrow. He had a pretty good motivation to do so.

…..

“P7 Lewis!” Franco shouted as he walked towards his idol after the first free practice, phone in hand, and a smile on his face.

“Nice job kid,” Lewis congratulated. “Give me your phone then.” Franco immediately obeyed and Lewis finally put your number in the Argentinian’s contacts. “There you go,” he told him while giving back the phone.

“Thanks! I’ll see you later, bye!” Franco waved while he went back to the direction of his garage, already drafting up a text to send you.

He wasted no time in sending you the message he had spent all night thinking of. He hoped you wouldn’t take too much time to reply as he didn’t know if he could handle the wait. Luckily, his wish had been granted one way or another: as soon as he arrived in front of his garage, you were there. Looking down at your phone, you were quickly typing until your thumb was hovering over the send button. When you sensed someone watching you, you looked up and your eyes met Franco’s. So as you were exchanging eye contact with him, you finally decided on sending your text before putting your phone back into your pocket and walking towards Franco.

However, it hadn’t been Franco that you had texted. The Argentinian had only sent you a short message telling you that he would wait for you at the Williams hospitality, to which you hadn’t thought it necessary to reply as you had already been there. No, the person you had texted was none other than Lewis as you felt like he deserved a thank you for going along with your plan.

Thanks for being a great wingman, I’ll buy you a drink<3

You wouldn’t see it immediately as Franco had just offered you to have lunch with him – which you obviously accepted, but Lewis had answered you shortly after:

Save me a seat at the wedding and we’ll be even

(also lewis makes for a great baby name if you have a boy)

..........

I hope y'all liked this as much as i liked writing it🫶🏻 don't hesitate to comment or reblog if you appreciate my work, it always means a lot to me!!

Side note: I've been extremely unwell since the season ended😭 despite 2024 being my 1st season, I've grown attached to f1 sooo quickly that i missed it every time there was only a two weeks break and now we're acc gonna starve for 3 months🧍🏻‍♀️ and the fact that dts is being released in march is insane bc wdym we can't even have that during the off season

Anywayyys see you next time, take care of yourselves, and happy holidays🤍

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #franco colapinto x you #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #fc43 #fc43 x reader #fc43 x you

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