cooking stream gone wrong / lando norris x reader
pairing: lando norris x reader
song: disclosure - latch
summary: cooking stream is not something lando does often, but when he does it's worth it. and gossip is his middle name.
wc: 1.3k
“Alright, we’re live!” Lando grinned at the camera, adjusting his headset as you stood beside him in the kitchen, waving to his thousands of Twitch followers tuning in for what was supposed to be a simple, fun cooking stream.
“Say hi!” he nudged you with his elbow, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.
“Hi, everyone!” you laughed, feeling a little awkward but excited at the same time. Cooking was not your strong suit, but Lando had convinced you it would be fun—how hard could making pasta be?
“So, here’s the plan,” Lando started, turning back to the camera. “We’re going to make...well, attempt to make some pasta. Easy, right? We’ve got everything set up, and—”
“And by ‘set up,’ you mean we threw everything onto the counter and hoped for the best,” you interrupted, earning a laugh from Lando as the chat started flooding with comments.
"Lando can’t even boil water."
"This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?"
"Who’s the better cook?"
Lando squinted at the screen, reading the comments. “Who’s the better cook? Honestly, neither of us, but I think I’ve got this. Easy win,” he said, confidently reaching for the flour to start mixing the dough.
“Sure, sure,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see how that confidence holds up when we burn your kitchen.”
As you both got to work, the chaos started almost immediately. Lando spilled flour all over the counter while trying to measure it, and you couldn’t stop laughing as he attempted to save it by brushing the mess into a pile.
“Mate, I’m a racing driver, not a chef!” he exclaimed, looking at the camera as if that excused the growing disaster in front of him. The chat was already spamming laughing emojis.
“And yet, here we are,” you said, reaching for the eggs. “Okay, let’s at least try to make the dough...not a total failure.”
A few minutes later, you both had something that vaguely resembled dough, though it was sticking to your hands and the countertop. You exchanged glances, trying not to burst out laughing.
“This...doesn’t feel right,” you said, holding up your sticky hands.
Lando shook his head, grinning as he swiped some flour from the counter and smeared it across your cheek. “You’re doing great.”
You laughed, pushing him away playfully. “Seriously? You’re just making it worse!”
The chat exploded with more comments.
"What’s happening here?"
"This stream is pure chaos."
"They are so bad at this!"
“Alright, alright, let’s focus. We’re gonna make this work,” Lando said, trying to regain control of the situation. “We just need to roll it out, right?”
You nodded, grabbing the rolling pin. But, in true chaotic fashion, you accidentally knocked over the bag of flour, sending a cloud of white powder into the air. Both of you froze for a moment, staring at the mess before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
“Okay, this is an absolute disaster,” you managed to say between laughs, wiping the flour from your face.
“Disaster? Nah, this is quality content,” Lando grinned, gesturing to the camera as he brushed the flour off his shirt. “Everyone loves a bit of chaos.”
The chat seemed to agree, with viewers sending donations and spamming messages about how this was the funniest stream they’d seen in a while.
With the dough finally rolled out (though not exactly perfectly), you both moved on to boiling the water. Lando confidently set the pot on the stove, turning up the heat.
“See? Easy,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “We’ve totally got this.”
“Don’t jinx it,” you warned, but the damage was already done.
Just a few minutes later, the water started boiling over, steam rising from the pot. Lando scrambled to turn down the heat while you frantically grabbed a towel to clean up the mess.
“I said don’t jinx it!” you laughed, trying to keep the chaos under control.
“Okay, okay, I might’ve messed that one up,” Lando admitted, wiping his forehead dramatically for the camera. “But we’re still going strong!”
As the chaos in the kitchen continued, you both got more and more caught up in the moment. Between the flour, the boiling water, and the laughter, it was easy to forget about the camera still rolling. The playful banter between you and Lando became more flirtatious as the minutes passed, and you couldn’t help but notice how close you were standing to each other now.
Lando leaned in, a grin on his face as he pretended to offer you a bite of the pasta that had somehow ended up slightly burnt. “Care for a taste, chef?”
You laughed, leaning back against the counter. “Oh, I’ll pass. Looks like you’re trying to poison me.”
But instead of pulling away, Lando stayed close, his hand resting gently on your waist. The playful energy shifted, and suddenly, the laughter faded, replaced by an unfamiliar tension. His eyes stayed on yours, the teasing glint in them softening as the air between you thickened.
You felt your pulse quicken, your heart racing in your chest. "Lando..." you started, unsure if you should break the moment or let it take its course.
He didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze dropped to your lips, and before you could even process it, his hand slid up your side, pulling you closer. His lips found yours, softly at first, as if testing the waters, but then something shifted, and the kiss deepened with an urgency neither of you had anticipated.
Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt as you kissed him back, completely caught up in the moment. Everything else faded away—the kitchen, the mess, the stream. It was just you and Lando, lost in a kiss that felt far more intense than anything you’d ever shared before.
His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew hungrier, more desperate. You could feel the counter digging into your back, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the way his lips moved over yours, the way your heart raced uncontrollably in your chest.
Then suddenly, the shrill sound of a phone ringing pierced through the haze.
You both froze, your lips still inches apart, breathing heavily as reality crashed back into the room. Lando’s phone continued ringing, and you blinked in confusion, your mind scrambling to catch up with what had just happened.
Lando reached for his phone, glancing at the screen with wide eyes. “It’s Max,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
Lando answered the call with trembling fingers. “Uh...hey, Max.”
“Bro,” Max’s voice came through the speaker, half-amused, half-panicked. “Are you guys seriously still streaming? Because, uh...you’re about two seconds away from getting banned for...whatever the hell you were just doing on that counter.”
Lando’s eyes widened in horror as he glanced at the camera, finally realizing that the chat was still going crazy. His hand shot out to shut off the stream, but it was too late. The damage was done.
You stood there in stunned silence, your face burning with embarrassment as you covered your mouth with your hand. How could you have forgotten about the stream?
“Well,” Lando finally said, breaking the silence after what felt like an eternity. “That...happened.”
You let out a nervous laugh, still feeling the lingering heat from the kiss. “Yeah. That definitely happened.”
Lando ran a hand through his hair, clearly still trying to process everything. He looked at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and something else—something unspoken.
Before either of you could say anything more, he reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I guess...we’re going to have some explaining to do, huh?”
You nodded, still breathless from the chaos of the last few minutes. “Yeah. But...I don’t regret it.”
Lando grinned, a hint of that familiar mischievous spark returning. “Neither do I.”
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hey
wait
what about
mechanic!matt…………..he been told you to get rid of your car but you don’t have the money for it, the uni semester has already been off to a chaotic start, and PLUS it was a gift from your grandpa on your 18th :(
i lowkey kinda fucked up this req and changed it a bit cos i struggled to write it :| i wrote meeting mechanic!matt for the first time instead my bad my bad my bad.
you're freaking out.
you're freaking out so bad you're teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown, overwhelmed by a storm of emotions as you stand in the middle of the auto repair shop.
you've been so stressed; your new semester had a chaotic start, your classes keeping you unbelievably busy. to make matters worse, you've also had a painful falling out with your best friend, the kind of rift that feels like a gaping wound. on top of that, you recent breakup still fucking stings and you feel like you're going to throw up every time you cross paths.
and now, as if the universe is conspiring against you, your car has betrayed you, refusing to start in the middle of the road when you were on your way home. (the embarrassment of having to call a tow truck had only made it worse).
the constant sounds of clanging metal and the low hum of machinery surrounds you, gnawing at your nerves, overstimulating you. you close your eyes and rub your temples, desperately trying to block out the flickering overhead lights that create disorientating flashes behind your eyelids.
the air was thick too, heavy with the scent of motor oil and burnt rubber, a pungent reminder of your current predicament that makes your stomach churn with nausea, and you feel an overwhelming urge to escape, to bolt out the fucking door and leave this place behind.
but you can't.
you can't abandon your car — your baby, a precious gift from your grandpa.
with a deep breath, you peel your eyes open, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you scan the bustling shop for the beefy man who greeted you when you first arrived. you're desperate for answers, anxious to find out if your car is truly fucked.
oh god, you wanted to cry. the thought of the repair costs makes you stomach twist. how much money will you have to spend? money that you don't even have. panic instantly washes over you.
you're screwed. you're done. you're hopeless. you're—
"hey," a voice jolts you from your spiralling thoughts, and you snap around, bracing yourself to confront the man you were searching for, but instead, you're taken aback by someone completely different.
he stands before you, hair tousled, strands falling over his light blue eyes. he's wearing a snug black tank top and dark blue overalls, the sleeves casually wrapped around his slim waist, showcasing a patchwork tattooed arm. his hands are smeared with grease and oil, evidence of a long day spent working on cars, and he nonchalantly twirls a wrench around his finger while chewing gum, casualness radiating from him as he stares at you.
"how bad is she?" you dare to ask, your voice trembles slightly, a mix of fear and hope surfacing in your chest.
the corner of his lips twitches slightly at your words before he begins. "she's not doin' too good." your heart sinks, a lump forming in your throat as you brace yourself for what's coming. "for starters, your battery is dead, but there's some damage done to the ignition system too... s'likely that the stater's shot, and the alternator needs replacing too."
you swallow hard, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch in the gut, and the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. "how... how much are we talking?"
"could be a couple hundred for the battery 'n starter, maybe more dependin' on what else i find when i dig deeper," his fingers rhythmically tap against the wrench in his hands, chewing his gum slowly as he admits, "not gonna lie t'you, sweetheart — s'not gonna be cheap."
"fuck," another wave of panic rises within you, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. you feel so helpless. "i uh, i don't, i.. i can't, i—"
"hey," he says again, his voice steady and soothing as he gets your attention. your watery eyes snap to his when you feel his hand touch your shoulder gently. you don't even care about the grease and oil staining your shirt right now. "take a deep breathe, yeah? in and out. eeeeasy."
you nod quickly, following his instructions, inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, trying to regain control over the rapid beating of your heart. your skin feels clammy, and your head is fuzzy, but his calm demeanour seems to help anchor you.
"there we go.. that's it," he hums softly, squeezing your arm as he nods in approval. "now, talk t'me. slowly."
"i... i can't afford it," you whisper defeatedly. "i don't have a job right now, i can't. i don't know how i'm going to pay for all this."
he studies you quietly for a moment, his gaze shifting from concern to something more contemplative. "we can figure somethin' out... sellin' the parts might be—"
"no!" you blurt out, shaking your head sharply. the suddenness of your response catches him off guard, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise at your defiance. "i'm sorry, i... i can't sell it."
he lifts his hand to scratch at his cheek, squinting his eyes as he processes your reaction. "you uh, y'not makin' this easy, sweetheart—"
"i know, but i can't sell it," you insist with a soft sigh. "it means a lot to me.. please? is there another way?"
he studies you again, standing in silence, and you hold his gaze, hoping he'll come up with a solution. you watch as he takes a step closer, lowering his voice as if he's sharing a secret.
"what if.. we work somethin' out?" he suggests. "i'll uh, i'll fix your car for cheap — maybe for nothin' if you do somethin' for me?"
"what are you suggesting?" you ask, curiosity piqued.
he grins, revealing his pearly whites as he chews his gum, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as if he hadn't just proposed something so serious and sudden. he doesn't answer you, which makes you prompt the question again, and he keeps the grin on his face as he turns and walks further into the shop, casting a glance over his shoulder at you, a silent invitation to follow him.
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the 2 regular tickets upgrade
i did talk to dnp about it, but then i got blessed during the intermission (i wasn't hounding anyone this time! it was very spontaneous, and it wasn't the merch crew, stop yelling at me), so here's a product of both interactions:
- the upgrade thing was sent out to the venues. they have all the information about the tickets, their holders, and everything;
- the venues select the winners and contact them via email;
- the selection happens a few days before the show (which is fine for the shows after September but very shady for the 1st leg because not everyone participates, basically);
- neither dnp nor their team have any control over this other than the brief they sent to the venues with basic "only general tickets" and etc. only general tickets, so no Silver VIP for sure. it's on the venues to do everything, and sometimes they make strange decisions. the Stockholm situation with the winners picked right before the show wasn't planned. the venue just didn't select anyone beforehand. the crew wasn't happy about it, lol;
- they will try to organise it differently/better for the US/Canada leg, because this was a bit chaotic. like, it worked but not the best.
note 1: i asked to put the terms on the website. not sure if it's gonna happen. i did try my best in the moment to explain why it's important for us to know the terms. and the person i was talking to during the intermission said that quite a few people ask about that ticket upgrade thing, so it would make sense to just put the info somewhere for people to see.
note 2: about the selection timeframe. it is weird, but that's what i was told. the venues live on their own planet, so idk if they actually selected everyone a few days before each show (minus Stockholm) or waited a bit more. in the USA, and further the plan is probably gonna be to stick to this timeframe. it's not a bad one, just doesn't suit the 1st leg since we could buy tickets on the days of the shows.
if i remember anything else about this, i'll update the post
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Breathtaking
Joey knows it's bad manners and probably distasteful. Really, he does.
Despite what others may think, he really is a gentleman. Tries his best to be, at least.
Unfortunately, his mouth has always run quicker than his brain. Usually it just gets him into a bit of trouble he can't talk his way out of, but every now and then it just leaves him embarrassed and humiliated in front of pretty people.
He will not let this be a repeat of that situation though. Not when the girl who's grabbed his heart is the most gorgeous, ethereal woman that he has ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon.
Especially not when she's Seto Kaiba's fuckin' personal assistant.
It's not often Joey comes to KaibaCorp -- okay, he never comes to KaibaCorp -- but Yugi had invited him along for one of his weekly matches with the man himself.
And for the first time in his life, Joey just cannot focus on the game playing out in front of him.
Not that seeing Yugi and Kaiba duel isn't always some sort of spectacle -- and these days, filled with so much innuendos and flirting it's like watching a particularly captivating trashy TV show -- but no matter the dramatics or the plot twists, Joey's attention is firmly held by the pretty woman sitting next to him in the spectator stands.
Kisara, Joey knows her name is after hearing Kaiba bark commands at her. Silky white hair flowing over her shoulders and curling round her pale face. Her eyes are a beautiful sparkling blue, intensely focussed on the laptop sitting on her knees.
"Hey, how's it going?" Joey says to her and fights the urge to wince.
Really? That's the best he can do?
Kisara blinks and turns her head to face him, concentration broken as she looks at Joey like she's only just realised he's there.
"Oh, hi. I'm just working," she tells him with a quick smile and fuck is it breathtaking.
She turns back to her laptop and Joey curses silently as he realises he'd missed the opportunity to say anything more, too captivated by her stupid pretty smile and now if he tries again it's gonna be awkward and god, what if he makes her uncomfortable?
Kaiba and Yugi's duel finishes soon after and Joey practically runs up to Yugi to try and escape his spiralling thoughts. The two of them are halfway to the door when Kaiba grabs his arm and pulls him back.
Joey whirls around, a taunt on the tip of his tongue. What's wrong, rich boy, want me to beat your ass too?
But he stops when he sees Kaiba's sneer.
"Don't hit on my assistant." He warns "Kisara is too good for a mutt like you."
Joey feels himself flush, pulling his arm out of Kaiba's grip.
"Fuck off man, I was just being polite!" He snaps back.
Seto's sneer falters slightly as he narrows his eyes, looking Joey over like he's some fun new puzzle to solve.
"At least wait until she's off the clock. I can't have you distracting her."
Seto stalks off before Joey can get another word in, Kisara at her bosses side in an instant. Despite recieving Kaiba's blessing -- which he didn't want or need, by the way -- Joey is almost certain it's not gonna do him any good anyway. Kisara is way out of his league, as usual, and totally not interested in him. As usual.
Joey suspects he has a type.
But just when he thinks he's done for, Kisara looks over his shoulder to shoot him a wink and a smile.
Oh. Joey thinks, heart beating so fast it could burst from his chest. I'm totally in love.
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My first therapy appointment in several months went really well! I’m returning to the councilor I’ve had for a couple years now. I updated her on my transition journey because the last time I saw her was a couple weeks before I started on T; I told her about coming out to my dad last night, and how disappointing it was.
The ensuing conversation was both productive, and so fucking validating.
My recent depressive episode? Complicated by an event with a former friend, but set into motion, and dragged out for so long, because of the stress of what was to come. My voice has gotten too low to even PRETEND it’s just a holdover from being sick or part of allergies or what have you. I’ve known for the past month that the time to tell my dad was coming. The fear of his reaction and the consequences it could bring since I’m currently in a financially vulnerable place was killing me.
And as we talked, I figured out that the unpredictability is still my only real, big fear: my dad promised me he wouldn’t kick me out, but there’s that lingering fear that he could change his mind, and even if he doesn’t, he could start draining my paychecks — I told him my GAC, insurance copays and all, has been coming exclusively out of my pocket, so I get the sneaking suspicion he’s gonna take advantage of us sharing a bank account and deepen that financial dependency. And above all, I’m afraid of losing our relationship. I’m okay with him not accepting my identity so long as he doesn’t treat me any differently in spite of it. But if he starts pulling away or pushing me away or withholding love as punishment for following down a path he disapproves of, what then?
My counselor told me that, sad as it is, I can’t control how he chooses to react. But I have my mom and brother’s support, my girlfriend’s support, and an online community of friends; if I lose my relationship with him, that’s ultimately his decision and his loss, and no matter what he does, I won’t face it alone.
I had hoped that assuring him I felt God’s peace in my choices and that I’d spent years praying over the situation would at least sorta put him at ease, but all he did was infantilize and illegitimize my entire experience as guided by evil and selfishness. I can’t reason with him or come to a happy medium with him like I did with my mom. The faith he’s praised me for sticking close to he’s now decided is all lies and self-delusion simply because he doesn’t like the conclusions I’ve come to. Nothing I do will satisfy or convince him… so why waste energy trying?
I just have to live with his disappointment, and as much as it hurts, it’s also freeing. I’ve done all I can do. I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to live with the stress of what will happen once he knows, because for better or worse, he knows now. If he doesn’t like it, so be it. I’ve laid my cards down, and how things progress between us is entirely up to him. When I put aside my stress over our relationship, I feel nothing but confidence and happiness and certainty. If he thinks this is a mistake… well, he’s gotta let me make my mistakes. I spent 20+ years not doing anything for fear of what bad might happen, and that left me a suicidal wreck by age 18. I won’t sit by and let ominous warnings and premonitions hold me back any longer. It COULD be a mistake, or it COULD be the best decision I’ve ever made. How will I know if I freeze up in fear?
My counselor noted several times that I look, sound, and act more confident than she’s ever seen from me. Without the pressure of keeping secrets, I’m able to more easily sort between what thoughts are mind and what thoughts my dad, my trauma, or both have planted in my head. I can say with my whole chest that I feel I’m going in the right direction. I can even say “Fuck it, my dad’s approval or disapproval is on him, not me” with greater conviction. I’m acting on things I’ve wanted from the moment we first spoke, and she says the positive change it’s made radiates off of me. She said she’s extremely proud of the progress I’ve made.
I’ll be seeing her again next week, then dropping down to seeing her every other week. In spite of how relatively poorly last night went, I feel empowered. God I’m so glad to be back.
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