#i just need them to win like this would be mONUMENTAL

[loonris]

this Morocco game is tearing me up a bit omfg please god the French cannot win ?

[niiwa-angel]

I can't stop thinking about how Stan Pines, a man who was kicked out of his home at a young age by his abusive father, turned his own home into such a safe space for not just the twins, but his employees and the kids friends as well.

First of all, we know Wendy frequently slacks off on her shifts, she has her roof top hideaway but she also reads magazines and flat out refuses to do certain tasks. Like when Stan asked her to put up a sign and she just said she couldn't reach it, or telling Stan "absolutely not" when he asked her and Soos to clean the bathrooms. Not only could Stan fire her, he could take away her magazines or stop her from going on the roof. We see that Stan is more observant than he lets on, you're telling me he didn't notice her dragging a cooler and a lawn chair up there? And she's either bringing her own pop and ice to fill that cooler or she's taking his.

And then there's Soos, who Stan cares about so much he got himself on the no-fly list trying to get his birthday removed from calendars, just because it made him upset. We know Soos cares about the Mystery Shack, he feels comfortable there, and he respects and adores Stan. Soos also volunteered to DJ for free at Stans summer party.

We also frequently see Soos and Wendy hanging out with the twins, so either they're slacking off during working hours or they're coming over after their shifts just to hang out. In an after credits scene, we see Mabel and Dipper turn Soos into a disco ball and they're clearly in the residential part of the shack. So either Soos buggered off during working hours to hang out with the twins or he's off shift just chilling. Either way, Stan is fine with him being in the actual house part of the shack.

Wendy also helps Mabel try and make Stan more 'desirable' to Lazy Susan, which I'll get into later, but she's not working and she also in the house part of the shack. We also see Soos and Wendy watching television with Stan, Mabel, and Dipper during the Summerween episode. They aren't on shift! They're just chilling. Wendy hits Stan in the face with a water balloon while working as a lifeguard. She's comfortable teasing him.

Soos tags along with Stan, Dipper, and Mabel when they break into the golf course after hours. He brings his shirts to cut Ws into. He doesn't have to be there, he just is. Wendy goes hunting with Mabel and her friends for unicorns. Mabel wins a pig at the fair and Stan lets her keep it, the pig needs food, who do you think is footing that bill?

Now let's talk about friends. Mabel often has Candy and Grenda over, we know she has loud sleepover with them. Do you think Mabel would bring her friends over if she wasn't comfortable in the house? Do you think Candy and Grenda would keep coming over if they didn't feel safe? Not to mention, they literally ambush Stan in the bathroom and give him a make over. Which he allows, we see him fight off the undead, punch bald eagles, and catch the twins when they fell from the nose of that monument. The man is strong, he could get three preteen girls off him if he wanted to, he was 100% playing along.

Candy and Grenda also invite themselves along on their road trip. And Stan lets them come!! Mr cheap stake agrees to feed and care for two extra kids who aren't his family.

Dipper sneaks around trying to see his tattoo, he feels safe enough with Stan to push those boundaries. He literally pulled the Memory Gun on Ford during the basement scene, if he wasn't comfortable with Stan, he wouldn't try to get that close to him. He calls Stan when he and Mabel are trapped in a haunted convenience store (he doesn't answer but still, he called him).

Now let's talk about Gideon, because I will stand by the Stan had some fondness for the kid. We know Stan has been annoyed with Gideon for a while, we know Gideon has been gunning for Stan for a while. And Stan just... Keeps letting this happen. He never involves the police, he plays along with Gideons attempts, even when Gideon is laughing uncontrollably, Stan just assured him that "you'll get me one day kid". Even when Gideon climbs in THROUGH THE WINDOW all Stan does is aggressively sweep at his feet. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Stan never gets rough with Gideon.

I'm just, I'm weeping over the knowledge that Stan Pines, who wasn't safe in his own home, made his home a safe place for kids as an adult.

[solxamber]

Making Up After an Argument With: Vice Housewardens + Kalim

part 1 with overblot gang + rollo

more hurt/comfort for the soul!

Trey Clover:

It had been days since your argument with Trey. Days of agonizing silence. Days of avoiding each other in the hallways, sidestepping glances in the cafeteria, and pretending not to exist when you crossed paths in class. It was ridiculous.

You could barely even remember what you had argued about. Something about cake batter consistency? Or was it his relentless calmness in the face of your very valid cake-related frustration? Regardless, this had gone on long enough.

And you? Well, you were dramatic by nature, so if you were going to apologize to Trey, it needed to be big. Monumental. The stuff of legends.

So you did what any normal person would do: you put together an apology that could have come straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy.

The setting: Trey's dorm room.

The plan: Apologize with flair.

The execution? Well… here goes.

You kicked open the door to his room—literally, because who needs normalcy when you’re trying to make a grand entrance?

“TREYYYYY!!!” you wailed, throwing yourself to the floor dramatically as if you had just collapsed under the weight of your own misery. You didn’t even bother getting up—no, you stayed there, prone on the floor, arms stretched out in a cross shape like you were trying to summon a deity.

Trey looked up from his desk, eyes wide in utter disbelief at the absolute spectacle in front of him. His glasses slid down his nose slightly as he blinked, staring at you as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be concerned.

“...what are you doing?” he asked, his voice slow, measured, and cautious. This was so much even for you.

You grabbed a pillow from his bed, clutching it to your chest as you rolled over dramatically, eyes squinted in faux despair. “I have wronged you, dear Trey,” you moaned, as though you were performing an award-winning monologue on stage. “I have been a FOOL, a BRAT, a mere shadow of the decent human I once was. I came here to THROW MYSELF at your FEET and beg for FORGIVENESS!”

Trey blinked again. He was so calm that it almost made you want to scream. This was serious! You were performing your soul out right now!

You pushed yourself up to your knees, crawling a little closer to him, throwing your arms up to the ceiling. “I have spent these past few days in agony,” you continued, voice now filled with the heavy weight of tragic longing. “My life without you has been like a cupcake without frosting! Like tea without sugar! Like—like… a world without your glasses to reflect the sunlight into my soul!”

Trey pressed his lips together, clearly fighting back a smile. You continued, undeterred.

“My heart is broken, shattered, like the eggs we once cracked together to make the finest sponge cake. And now… now, Trey Clover, I come to you, humble and pleading. I ask you to take pity on this poor wretch who was too blind to see the treasure before them. Forgive me, Trey. Please. Don’t let me die from this—this unbearable torment!”

There was a pause. A long one. Trey stared at you with that soft, almost amused expression, and then he sighed, shaking his head as he got up from his desk.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he said, walking over to you. He crouched down beside you, his tone gentle despite the absurdity of the situation.

Still fully committed to your performance, you grabbed his hands and held them to your chest, staring up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “Ridiculous for you, Trey. Only for you.”

He finally broke, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at you, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Get up. You don’t have to be so over the top.”

You hesitated, playing up the pause before you dramatically threw yourself onto him, burying your face into his stomach like a child seeking forgiveness. “I won’t get up until you forgive me!” you cried, muffled against his shirt.

Trey let out a sigh of fond exasperation, patting the top of your head like you were an unruly puppy. “You’re impossible.”

With a final chuckle, he pulled you up to your feet. “I forgive you. You don’t have to grovel,” he said, his voice warm, but there was something in his eyes that looked a little distant, a little… sad?

That’s when the theatrics faded. You could see it, plain as day, the little dip in his expression, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something wasn’t right.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Hey… is something wrong?”

Trey blinked, glancing away for a second before letting out a small sigh. “No, it’s… it’s nothing. Really.”

You stepped closer, lowering your voice as you rested a hand on his arm. “Trey, come on. I know you better than that.”

He hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair, glancing out the window before he finally spoke. “It’s just… I didn’t know if you’d come back.” His voice was quieter now, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “I thought… I don’t know, maybe you’d decide that I’m not as interesting or… exciting as some of the other people around here. I’m just the guy who bakes and keeps everything running smoothly.”

You felt your heart twist at his words. Trey, always so calm and collected, always in the background, thinking he wasn’t enough? How wrong he was.

“Trey…” you said softly, stepping even closer now, so close that your forehead was practically brushing his chest. “You’re wrong. You’re everything I want. You’re more than enough.”

He looked down at you, surprised by the sincerity in your voice.

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands, making him look directly at you. “You don’t have to be flashy or dramatic or anything else. I don’t want that. I just want you. The Trey who cares, who listens, who’s always there when I need him, even when I’m being a total idiot.” You smiled softly. “You’re steady, and that’s what makes you special. Not everyone else.”

Trey’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he was trying to process your words. Then, with a small, almost shy smile, he pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you as if he was afraid to let go.

“Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and full of emotion.

You squeezed him back, your earlier theatrics now a distant memory as you felt the warmth of his embrace. “I mean it, Trey. You’re perfect the way you are.”

There was a moment of quiet, just the two of you standing there, holding onto each other. It wasn’t grand or dramatic—it was simple, and honest, and perfect.

And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you whispered, “Plus, your cakes are way better than anyone else’s.”

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You really are something else, you know that?”

You grinned against his chest. “Only for you, Trey. Only for you.”

Ruggie Bucchi

The silent treatment between you and Ruggie had stretched on longer than either of you expected. And it was killing you. The worst part? Neither of you was budging. Stubborn as all get-out. But you weren’t just any regular person—you were extra. If you were going to break the silence, you’d do it in the most dramatic, over-the-top way possible.

And what was Ruggie’s greatest weakness?

Food.

So, here you were, standing at the doorstep of Ruggie’s dorm with a feast in your hands. You had collected everything from the cafeteria—pies, cakes, sandwiches, chips—anything edible that would appeal to his sense of taste, because this wasn’t just about an apology; this was an event.

And like any event, you were about to turn this into the most theatrical, food-based apology in the history of NRC.

You knocked on his door three times. The door creaked open slightly, and Ruggie peeked through the gap, eyes narrowing when he saw you standing there. “What do you want?”

He still sounded salty. But, of course, you had prepared for this.

“I come… bearing gifts,” you said, lifting the massive tray of food with all the grandeur of a royal presenting treasure to the king. “A peace offering! An apology! A banquet for the ages!”

Ruggie’s eyes widened as he took in the sheer amount of food. “What is all this?”

“Our reconciliation,” you declared, dramatically. “I come humbly, with my arms full of all that your stomach desires. For I have wronged you, Ruggie Bucchi, and I must beg for forgiveness in the only way I know how—with food.”

Ruggie stared at you, lips twitching as if he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or kick you out. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I know,” you wailed, feigning anguish. “I’m a fool, Ruggie! A foolish, foolish person! But a fool who knows that you won’t stay mad when there’s a perfectly good tray of sandwiches right in front of you.”

He arched a brow. “You’re bribing me with food?”

“Absolutely.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you as if sizing you up. “What if I say no?”

Without missing a beat, you plopped yourself down on the floor, placing the tray on your lap. “Then I’ll just sit here and eat everything in front of your door until you feel so guilty, you’ll have to forgive me.”

There was a beat of silence before Ruggie snorted, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “You’re crazy.”

“And yet… you haven’t closed the door,” you shot back, giving him a sly smile.

Ruggie let out a long-suffering sigh but stepped aside, allowing you into his dorm room with all your extravagant offerings.

Once inside, you laid the food out on the table as if setting up for a feast. Plates and bowls and trays—everything perfectly arranged in the most ridiculous spread you could muster. You turned to him, arms open wide like a game show host revealing the grand prize.

“For you, my dear, a meal to rival kings!” you announced with a flourish. “And also my heartfelt apology.”

Ruggie eyed the spread, trying to keep his expression neutral, but you could see the gears turning. You knew him. He wasn’t one to say no to free food, no matter how petty he was being.

“I’m listening,” he said, finally, leaning against the table as if he wasn’t already plotting which dish to devour first.

You placed a hand on your heart, staring at him with as much sincerity as you could muster. “Ruggie, I’m sorry. I was being a brat. I didn’t mean to snap at you over something so small, and I definitely didn’t mean to let it drag out like this.” You paused, grabbing a sandwich and holding it out to him as if it were a peace token. “Please forgive me?”

He looked at the sandwich, then at you, and then, after a long moment of hesitation, he snatched it out of your hand. “Fine, fine. You’re lucky I can’t stay mad when there���s food involved.”

You grinned, relief washing over you. “You’re easy to bribe.”

“You’re easy to apologize to,” he shot back, taking a huge bite of the sandwich. “But yeah… I forgive you.”

You relaxed, plopping down into a chair across from him as you watched him devour the food with the same efficiency that he handled everything in life. But there was still something in his eyes—something that looked a little off, even though he was joking around now.

And then, almost as if reading your thoughts, Ruggie spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now, less playful. “I… I gotta admit something.”

You blinked, straightening up a little. “Yeah?”

Ruggie leaned back in his chair, staring down at the sandwich in his hands. “I know we fought over something stupid, but... I’ve been thinking. I was scared, y’know?” He let out a bitter laugh. “I thought maybe you were realizing you could do better than someone like me. I mean, look at me—I’m always hustling, always trying to scrape by. Penny-pinching, scheming… I’m not like all those rich, flashy guys you’re surrounded by.”

His words hung in the air, and your heart squeezed at the vulnerability in his voice.

“Ruggie,” you said softly, standing up and walking over to him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, making him look up at you. “What are you talking about? I don’t care about any of that. I care about you.”

He frowned, glancing away. “Yeah, but… it’s hard not to feel like I’m just some background guy, y’know? Like you’d get tired of me eventually.”

You shook your head, feeling a rush of affection for this boy who always acted like he had the world figured out but was still so worried about being left behind.

“You’re wrong,” you said firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re not just ‘some background guy.’ You’re everything to me. I don’t care about money or schemes or any of that. You’re smart, you’re funny, you make me laugh every day, and you’re always looking out for me, even when I don’t deserve it.”

Ruggie’s eyes softened, his lips parting slightly like he didn’t know what to say.

You smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And besides,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, “if you think I’m gonna find someone better than the guy who can steal a whole feast from the cafeteria without getting caught, you’re seriously underestimating how much I value your skills.”

That finally earned a chuckle from him, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a breath he’d been holding. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you,” you teased, planting another kiss on his cheek, then another on the tip of his nose, and then—just because you could—one more on his lips.

Ruggie, now thoroughly kissed, wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “I guess I can’t stay mad at you, huh?” he murmured, his voice soft now, all the tension from earlier melting away.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you rested your forehead against his. “Not when I’m this cute.”

He snorted, nuzzling into you. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit out of fighting with me, or I’m gonna get spoiled from all these fancy apologies.”

You grinned. “Deal. As long as you promise to remember that you’re more than enough for me.”

Ruggie looked up at you, his usual mischievous grin returning, but there was something warmer in his eyes now, something softer. “Yeah. I’ll remember.”

And with that, you pulled him in for another kiss, sealing the apology and the promise with a little extra love.

Jade Leech:

The silent treatment between you and Jade Leech had been going on for far too long now. And, sure, you could be stubborn. You could match his pettiness tit-for-tat. But at some point, even the most ridiculous battles need a ceasefire. And this particular cold war was starting to wear you both down.

The tension had grown so thick it could probably be bottled and sold as premium-grade eelskin moisturizer. You weren't sure what had gotten you both so worked up in the first place—something about a miscommunication over a rare mushroom and your tendency to call out his cryptic grins. It snowballed from there.

But today, you were going to be the bigger person.

Which meant it was time to break the ice. And not with any ordinary apology—oh, no. Jade Leech wasn’t a man swayed by simple words and chocolates. You needed something grander, something that spoke to his peculiar interests and refined tastes.

And that's how you found yourself in the local black market—er, highly exclusive specialty shop—shelling out way too much money for some ultra-rare terrarium material. You didn’t know what it was, exactly. It was glowy, mossy, and something Jade would probably coo over like a proud parent. Perfect.

And you had a plan. Not just any apology plan—oh no, you were going to kill this with a one-two punch of heartfelt apology and a sweet gesture that no petty argument could stand up to.

That evening, you found yourself standing outside Mostro Lounge with your rare terrarium goods tucked under one arm and a small, handmade "I’m Sorry" cake under the other. Because if there’s one thing Jade Leech loves, it's weird, rare plant materials.

The Mostro Lounge was quiet, the perfect setup for your grand gesture. You pushed open the door and slipped inside, only to find Jade sitting at one of the tables, clearly deep in thought.

You cleared your throat loudly, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly. Oh, good, he was still feeling salty.

"Jade," you called out in a dramatic, over-the-top tone, walking toward him like you were making a royal entrance. "I come bearing gifts. The finest of gifts." You carefully set the rare terrarium material on the table before pulling the cake out of the box with a flourish.

Jade raised an eyebrow, his expression carefully neutral. “Ah, how… thoughtful. And what, pray tell, is this?” he asked, eyeing the mossy material as if it were an amusing trinket.

You straightened up, grinning. “A rare moss that only grows under the full moon in the volcanic pits of the Obsidian Islands. I fought off twelve merchants for it. I might have bruised a kidney in the process, but hey, it's worth it for you."

Jade blinked, but his lips twitched. "How charmingly excessive," he said, though his tone was still icy. “And the cake?”

You set the cake down with a proud smile. “Homemade. No eels were harmed in the making of it, I promise. Consider it a peace offering… because, you know… maybe we’ve been a little ridiculous?”

Jade’s eyes slid back to the terrarium material, then back to you, and you could see that familiar glint of amusement cracking through his carefully composed exterior. “A little ridiculous? Hmm, perhaps that’s one way to put it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, c’mon, Jade. We’ve both been petty, and it’s getting us nowhere. You don’t want to be in this weird stalemate forever, do you?”

He tilted his head, regarding you with that infuriatingly polite smile. “I was under the impression that this was a competition to see who could hold out the longest. But perhaps I underestimated your resolve.”

You groaned, but before you could say anything snarky back, Jade’s gaze softened. He looked down at the cake, then at the terrarium material, and sighed—a sound so small and uncharacteristically vulnerable that it made your chest tighten.

"Truth be told,” he murmured, “I was beginning to think that this was the final straw. That I had ruined something good by being… well, myself." His voice dropped in volume, and for once, there wasn’t a hint of teasing or sarcasm in it.

You blinked. Wait—what?

Jade Leech thought you were going to leave him? You? Sure, you'd had fights before, but this one was different, wasn’t it? Still, the way he looked at you now—guard down, that polite mask starting to crumble—it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Jade…” You set the cake aside and moved toward him, gently tugging him into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t get rid of me that easily.”

For a moment, he was stiff, still clinging to his composure. But then, ever so slowly, his arms wrapped around you, and he buried his face into your shoulder.

“I didn’t realize how much this argument was bothering you,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I thought we were both being silly, but… I should have known better. I should’ve just apologized sooner.”

Jade was quiet for a few long moments, his arms tightening around you. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come back. I thought perhaps you’d realized you deserved better than… well, someone like me. Someone so focused on... mischief."

You leaned back just enough to cup his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Jade Leech, do you honestly think I’d walk away because you’re… what, a little mysterious? Please. I love that about you.” You smiled, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “You’re smart, and you make life interesting. You mean the world to me.”

Jade’s eyes widened slightly, and for once, he looked genuinely surprised. Then, slowly, a small smile crept onto his lips—soft, real, and free of his usual smugness.

“You have quite the way with words,” he murmured, leaning into your touch.

“I’ve been practicing,” you teased, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Jade melted into the kiss, and when you finally pulled back, he looked more at ease than he had in days.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You kissed him again, softer this time, before pulling him into another tight hug. “No more silent treatment, okay? Next time, let’s just talk things out before it gets ridiculous.”

Jade chuckled softly, nodding. “Agreed. Though I must say, your dramatic apology was quite entertaining.”

You grinned. “I aim to please.”

And with that, the two of you spent the rest of the evening laughing, eating cake, and—most importantly—making up. The argument was forgotten, and all that remained was the warmth of knowing that, no matter what, you and Jade would always find your way back to each other.

Kalim Al-Asim

It was completely out of character for you and Kalim to fight. Kalim Al-Asim—the boy with the heart as bright as a thousand suns—wasn’t exactly the type to harbor negativity. Arguments just didn’t happen between the two of you. He’d smile, laugh it off, and find some extravagant way to make peace, usually involving some form of spontaneous celebration or showering you with gifts.

But this time, something had gone awry. The fight had left a sour taste in your mouth, and, even more surprising, you had given him the silent treatment for days.

Days! As if that was even possible. Kalim had tried to make things right, sending you lavish gifts, offering up trips to the oasis, and practically begging with those big, shimmering eyes. But you had stood firm, giving him the cold shoulder. It wasn’t until now, while pacing your room, that you realized just how ridiculous it all was.

Kalim wasn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t even remotely deserving of being treated this way. Life was too short, and giving Kalim the silent treatment was like trying to dim the sun itself. It was painful, unnatural, and only left the world a little darker.

You had to apologize. But you couldn’t just say sorry. Not for Kalim. No, you had to do something that would reach deep into his soul, something that screamed, “I am sorry for being a fool and depriving you of my radiant presence!”—in true Kalim fashion.

The door to Scarabia swung open with a flourish, and you marched in, carrying your “apology” in the most dramatic, over-the-top way possible. In your arms was a golden tray, laden with every dessert known to man.

Sweets from the farthest reaches of the desert, cakes stacked like miniature mountains, and the crown jewel: a massive tower of Baklava, glistening with honey and topped with an edible diamond (you might have gone a little overboard).

Kalim was sitting by the fountain in the common room, looking forlorn. But when he saw you approaching with this ridiculous confectionary masterpiece, his face lit up like a firework display. "Wha—? What’s all this?!" he asked, scrambling to his feet.

You set the tray down with a flourish, sweeping an arm dramatically over the display. “Kalim Al-Asim! I come bearing a humble offering. It may not be enough to express the depths of my regret, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me!”

Kalim’s face softened immediately, the ghost of a grin pulling at his lips. "Aww, you didn’t have to do all this! I was just about to apologize to you, I swear!"

You shook your head dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear. “No, Kalim! I’ve been a fool! Life without your smile is like the desert without water—a barren wasteland of misery! Please, let me make it up to you with this absurdly lavish, entirely unnecessary, but very tasty display of affection.”

He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Okay, okay, you’re forgiven! You didn’t have to go this far!” He gave you a playful nudge, already eyeing the tower of sweets with a twinkle in his eye.

Naturally, Kalim being Kalim, his first instinct was to throw a party. “This calls for a celebration!” he exclaimed. “Let’s invite everyone over, get the music going, and—"

But something was off. His words were as excited as ever, but his smile—his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Normally, Kalim's enthusiasm was infectious, a hurricane of joy sweeping everyone up in its path. But now, there was a dimness to it, like someone had put a filter over the sunshine that was Kalim Al-Asim.

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait a second.” You grabbed him by the arm, dragging him toward his room without explanation.

Kalim, too surprised to resist, blinked as you pulled him inside, shutting the door behind you. “What’s going on?” he asked, still trying to piece together what was happening.

“Sit,” you commanded, pointing to the bed. He sat, confusion still written all over his face, and you kneeled beside him, hands resting on his knees. “Alright, spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“You know what,” you said, voice softening now. “Your smile… it wasn’t right. That’s not your real smile. What’s wrong, Kalim?”

He hesitated, looking down at his hands for a moment before sighing. “It’s just…” He trailed off, fiddling with the fabric of his pants. “I don’t like it when we fight. And I keep thinking... maybe you deserve someone better. Someone who won’t make you mad in the first place. Someone who’s smarter, more… competent. I always mess up, don’t I? And you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

Your heart clenched, and you felt a surge of both love and exasperation well up inside you. How could he think that? Him, of all people? You reached out, grabbing his face in both hands and squishing his cheeks together. “Kalim,” you said sternly, “You listen to me, and you listen good.”

His cheeks were smooshed, making him look utterly ridiculous, but he nodded as best as he could under your grip.

“I don’t want someone else. I don’t want someone more ‘competent’ or ‘smarter.’ I want you, Kalim Al-Asim. You, with your big heart, your endless optimism, and your ability to turn every day into a celebration. You mean everything to me, and no amount of silly arguments is going to change that.”

You released his cheeks, and he blinked at you, wide-eyed. “Really?” His voice was muffled and still slightly smooshed.

“Really,” you said, smiling warmly. “You’re my sunshine, Kalim. Life would be so boring without you.”

Before he could say anything, you leaned in and peppered his face with kisses—on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, anywhere you could reach. He laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within him, and you could finally see that brightness returning to his eyes. The real smile. The one that could light up an entire palace.

“Okay, okay! I believe you!” he managed to say between fits of laughter, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar warmth. “I’m sorry for being petty,” you murmured. “I love you, Kalim.”

His grip tightened around you, and you could feel him smiling against your hair. “I love you too. And hey, no more fighting, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the weight of the past few days lift off your shoulders. “No more fighting. And no more throwing parties after apologies, okay? Let’s just… enjoy this.”

He chuckled softly. “Deal. But can we still eat the Baklava tower?”

You pulled back, grinning. “Obviously.”

With that, the two of you sat there for a while longer, tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of reconciliation. And for the first time in days, everything felt right again.

Rook Hunt

You had been giving Rook the silent treatment for far too long now. At first, it was easy to ignore his poetic attempts at reconciliation—his dramatic speeches and flowers left in odd places (your shoes, under your pillow, even in your lunch). You had to admit, the guy was persistent, but you were stubborn. Stubborn, and maybe a bit petty.

But you missed him.

Which is why, today, you’d decided it was time to apologize. And not just any apology. No, no, no. This was Rook Hunt, the king of extravagance, drama, and all things flamboyant. If you were going to apologize, it had to be big.

You strutted through the hallways with purpose, a plan in place. Rook wouldn’t know what hit him.

When you finally found him, he was in the courtyard, gazing wistfully into the distance like some sort of Renaissance painting brought to life. Of course. Typical Rook.

You cleared your throat loudly, enough to get his attention. When his head snapped toward you, his eyes widening, you saw the hopeful glimmer in them. But you didn’t let him speak—not yet.

“No need for words, Rook Hunt,” you announced dramatically, extending one arm out wide and placing a hand over your heart as if you were in a Shakespearean tragedy. “For today, I come to seek your forgiveness!”

Rook blinked, clearly confused but intrigued. That was your in.

“I have wronged you, my dearest huntsman,” you continued, falling to your knees in a sweeping motion, as if you were collapsing under the weight of your guilt. “I have ignored you, punished you with silence for far too long, and for this, I am truly repentant.”

By now, Rook was staring at you, utterly captivated by your performance, which only encouraged you to go bigger.

“I have been petty, unreasonable, and blind to your affections,” you said, throwing your hands to the sky as if appealing to the heavens themselves. “But today, I seek redemption! I beg of you, O Rook Hunt, forgive me, for I cannot live another day without hearing your flowery prose, without basking in your eccentric glory!”

Rook’s lips twitched, and he brought a hand to his mouth, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. But you weren’t finished.

“To prove my sincerity, I offer you a token,” you declared, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a single, crumpled daisy. You held it up to him with both hands as if it were a royal gift. “A humble flower, to represent the fragile beauty of our love. Please, accept it.”

Rook stared at the flower, then at you, before finally, he cracked. His laughter spilled out, echoing in the courtyard. He dropped to one knee in front of you, his shoulders shaking with amusement. “Mon trésor, only you could outdo even my own dramatics.”

You gave him a triumphant grin, still holding out the flower. “So… am I forgiven?”

Rook’s eyes softened as he reached out, taking the daisy from your hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “Forgiven? You were never truly condemned, mon amour.” He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his usual playfulness shining through.

“Good,” you said, relieved. “I was running out of material.”

But just as you were about to stand, Rook moved faster. In a blink, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. You were practically squished against him, and while you appreciated the affection, it was getting hard to breathe.

“Rook…?” you managed to mumble into his shoulder. “I can’t… breathe.”

But he didn’t let go. If anything, he hugged you tighter, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “I thought I had lost you,” he whispered, his voice low and shaky in a way that caught you off guard.

You paused, your heart sinking at the tone in his voice. Slowly, you pulled away, struggling a bit against his grip until you were able to meet his eyes. “Rook? What’s wrong?”

He sighed, finally loosening his hold just enough to let you move, but he didn’t let go entirely. His gaze flickered to the ground for a moment before he finally spoke. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically small. “Afraid that my eccentricity… my quirks, my passion for the unusual—had finally driven you away.”

You blinked in surprise. Rook, of all people, thinking you would get tired of him? The man whose energy practically radiated confidence, who seemed unshakable?

“Rook…” You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “I love your quirks. I love how weird and dramatic and over-the-top you are. It’s what makes you you.” You leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

His eyes widened, but you didn’t stop there. You kissed the other cheek, then his forehead, peppering his face with kisses until he started laughing softly under the onslaught.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered between kisses. “I was being petty, and I took it too far. I never wanted to hurt you like that.”

Rook shook his head slightly, but he didn’t pull away from your affection. “You have no need to apologize, mon cœur. I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of losing your light.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to make your point clear. “You’ll never lose me,” you said firmly, your forehead resting against his. “Not for being who you are. I love you, Rook. Every part of you.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as he leaned into you, his arms wrapping around you once more—though much gentler this time. “Je t’aime,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth. “More than words can express.”

You grinned, pulling back just enough to kiss the tip of his nose. “I love you too, you dramatic dork.”

He chuckled, holding you close, and for a long moment, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing quiet kisses and soft words.

It was, in its own way, the most perfect apology you could’ve ever given.

Lilia Vanrouge:

It had been days since the argument. Days! And you could practically feel your willpower disintegrating with every second that passed.

It was completely out of character for you and Lilia to fight. Normally, Lilia’s mischievous grin could melt away any tension between the two of you, but this time, something had gone awry. The disagreement wasn’t even over anything important, but you both had dug your heels in out of sheer stubbornness. Now, the silence stretched on like a never-ending opera that had lost its charm halfway through Act 2.

You were on the verge of cracking. If there was one thing you couldn’t handle, it was seeing Lilia go a whole day without teasing you or giving one of his random, nonsensical life lessons. And now? There was just silence. Deafening silence.

Even worse, Malleus had started giving you the look. You knew the one: his trademark “kicked puppy” expression, like you had personally thrown a thunderstorm over his parade. Every time you walked by, his wide, draconic eyes would lock onto yours, as if begging for you to fix things with Lilia.

The final straw came one evening, after Malleus lpoked at you like you had just told him all the gargoyles were being demolished.

That was it. You couldn't take it anymore.

Lilia was sitting in the Diasomnia common room, reading some old tome, looking as composed as ever. But you knew him better than that. His usual mischievous sparkle was missing, replaced by an uncharacteristic somberness.

You needed to apologize, but it couldn’t just be any apology. No, this was Lilia Vanrouge. You had to match his energy with something equally as ridiculous and dramatic.

So, you walked into the room, threw yourself onto the ground, and sprawled out like a dramatic character in an ancient tragedy, arms spread wide, face contorted in over-the-top despair. "LILIA!" you wailed, your voice echoing off the stone walls. "I cannot bear it any longer! The weight of my guilt crushes me like a boulder atop my fragile soul! Forgive me, or I shall wither away into nothingness, a mere shadow of the person I once was!"

Lilia looked up from his book, eyes widening slightly at the sheer spectacle of your apology. You threw an arm over your face, dramatically flopping onto your side, as though consumed by your own sorrow.

"If you cannot find it in your heart to forgive me," you continued, "then I shall simply expire here and now! Right here, in the common room! My ghost will haunt these halls forever, wailing tragically, and Malleus will be even sadder than before!"

Lilia finally broke into a grin, setting his book down and crossing his arms, clearly amused. "Oh, dearest, you really are laying it on thick, aren’t you?"

"I’m serious!" you declared, sitting up with dramatic flair. "Look at me—this is the face of someone who’s very sorry! And if I have to do more, then I will escalate! I will serenade you in the courtyard! Or... or bake you something!" You paused. "Actually, no. I wouldn't subject you to my cooking. But something dramatic will happen!"

Lilia let out a laugh, the tension that had hung between you two finally dissipating with his amusement. "Alright, alright. I believe you." He stood, walking over to where you were still sprawled out on the floor like some sort of tragedy-stricken poet. "You are forgiven."

You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling a rush of relief. You stood, brushing yourself off and giving him a lopsided grin. "Thanks, Lilia. I missed you."

But just as you were about to revert back to normal, Lilia's expression shifted—his amusement fading into something softer, something deeper. His hands, usually light and playful, gently gripped your arms as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache.

“Though,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, “there’s something I need to say.”

You blinked, tilting your head as he continued. "Your recklessness... it scares me sometimes," he admitted, his playful tone gone, replaced with genuine vulnerability. "I’ve seen too much, lost too much over the years. And I worry. I worry that one day, you’ll be the one I lose. And I can’t... I can’t stand the thought of that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, his grip tightening slightly. “I’ve lived for so long, but you—you’re the brightness in this endless existence. I never thought I’d find someone like you. And now that I have, the thought of you being the one that got away—” He shook his head, his voice faltering. “It terrifies me. So I’m begging you… stay. Stay with me. Forever.”

Your heart clenched at his words. It was rare for Lilia to be this open, this raw. He always wore his playful mask, but right now, that mask had completely fallen away, leaving only the ancient fae who had seen too much and was so afraid of losing more.

Without thinking, you surged forward and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I’m not going anywhere, Lilia," you whispered into his shoulder, squeezing him as hard as you could. "I promise. As long as you’ll have me, I’m staying."

He clung to you, his small frame surprisingly strong as he hugged you back, as though afraid that if he let go, you might disappear. You could feel his breath hitch, and you pulled back just enough to look at him, your heart breaking at the sight of the unshed tears in his eyes.

Gently, you leaned in and began peppering his face with soft kisses—on his cheeks, his closed eyelids, his lips. “I love you more than words can express, Lilia Vanrouge,” you murmured between kisses. “I’m sorry for being petty, for making you worry. I’m staying. Forever.”

Lilia smiled through his tears, leaning into your affection, his fingers gently brushing your hair as he held you close. “You’re far too good to me,” he whispered, his voice a little shaky. “Thank you.”

You hugged him tightly again, resting your head against his shoulder, and for a long moment, the two of you simply stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms. The fight seemed so far away now, the pettiness and stubbornness replaced with a warmth that filled you both from the inside out.

After a while, Lilia pulled back just enough to look at you, his usual mischievous grin finally returning to his face. “Though, I have to admit, your dramatic apology was rather impressive. I might have to start a new trend of grandiose reconciliations.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Don’t get any ideas. I don’t think I could top that performance.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lilia teased, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ll handle the dramatics from now on.”

And with that, you melted into his arms once again, the fight nothing but a distant memory as you basked in the warmth of each other’s love.

Masterlist

[meazalykov]

platonic?

catarina macario x younger!uswnt!reader

summary: your admiration for the older woman turns into a crush

warnings: three year age gap, long chapter

you are twenty-two lacing up for the next game with chelsea, the weight of the blue jersey settling around you like armor.  

this wasn’t new; you’d been doing this since seventeen, since you were a kid at the world cup, barely knowing how to handle all the pressure the world threw at you while winning one of the best trophies a footballer can have. 

somehow, you’d found yourself. at the end of 2019 you went on loan to lyon from gotham, ready to prove your talent to the best audience. 

you weren’t exactly alone though—there was catarina.

being eighteen when you first met catarina, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, you stepped into the lyon training grounds with the kind of awe you couldn’t hide. 

you were on loan, adjusting to life in a new country with a language you barely spoke, and everything felt monumental, as if even the smallest mistakes would echo. 

catarina, twenty-one, was already established and calm, someone who seemed to carry the weight of experience with ease– especially for someone who was young herself. 

she spotted you from across the pitch during your first training session, a quick flash of recognition in her smile as she walked over, her strides confident and sure. 

“hey!!! you’re from new york, right?” she asked, her tone light but curious, that american accent instantly grounding.

“yeah,” you replied, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“just... here for a season, you know?”

she grinned. 

“good. i was starting to miss american familiarity here.”

from that moment, a kind of natural mentorship developed between you. 

the three-year difference felt both small and huge; it wasn’t just the age, but the way she carried herself, the calm authority of someone who’d already figured a few things out. in frace, you could go with her anywhere. in america, she was allowed to attend the 21+ places while you had to stay behind with the young national teammates in the hotel rooms. 

little did you know, catarina knew what it was like to leave home for a career, to adapt, and maybe she saw a bit of herself in you, struggling to find your place.

you noticed the steady way she’d watch you on the field, the way she’d wait until after training to approach, giving pointers with a casual tone that softened the critique. 

“you’re trying to force the pass too soon. the forward could never get it without the defender clearing it away,” she’d say once, tossing you the ball after practice as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the blue lyon training kit. 

“take a breath, let the play build.”

she’d take the time to show you, positioning you on the field, demonstrating how to look for space, to feel the tempo of the game like it was a second pulse. 

“you’ve got great instincts and speed,” she’d say after you’d gotten it right, her voice warm with approval. 

“just trust them a bit more.”

it wasn’t only on the field that she guided you. early on, when you stumbled over french phrases at cafes or struggled with the simplest exchanges, she’d be there, patient and amused. 

the woman with brazilian ethnicity already knew a few languages. you didn’t, only growing up needing to speak english with very basic levels of spanish. 

sitting in a café with catarina, selma, and amandine–you squinted down at the menu, wrestling with a word that looked more intimidating than it probably was. 

“i can never get this one,” you muttered, half to yourself, as she leaned over your shoulder with a quiet smile.

“that one’s croque-monsieur,” she said, saying it slowly. 

“it’s like fancy– what do you guys call it, grilled cheese?” selma grinned with her strong french accent as you looked at catarina with suspicion. 

“she's right. you’ll like it, trust us.”

“croque-mon-seur?” you tried. all of the girls laughed while catarina started shaking her head. 

“you’ll get it,” she said, giving you a light nudge. 

as weeks turned into months, her presence became something you leaned on without realizing. she’d taken on this mentor role easily, with the kind of warmth that let you feel less alone in a new place. 

she taught you bits of french, not only in words but in the quiet encouragement she offered, like the language itself was something you could share.

on the field, you started to shadow her during drills, watching how she played as an attacking mid—the same position as you. you found yourself asking questions, hungry to learn more even with skill abnormal for a youngster.

cata always answered with that patient tone, never making you feel as though you were asking too much.

during national breaks, there's always a different energy. a familiar choas you’ve come to love since being called up in the 2019 world cup. 

being back with the uswnt squad feels like stepping visiting old friends– because you are. catarina is steady, and calm. on the national team though, you’re usually the one starting over her, especially as the attacking mid, unlike at lyon due to the amount of caps you have over the woman that's older than you. 

she never lets any jealousy slip, always the first to give a pat on the back or a quiet word of praise that lingers more than it probably should.

the locker room screams with excitement before the friendly against portugal, and you’re tying up your signature purple boots, mentally running through the plays. 

suddenly, cat is sitting beside you, her familiar grin softening the tension that’s been settling in your shoulders. maybe its her hands resting your shoulders too.

“you look ready to score a hat trick today,” she murmurs, nudging your shoulder. 

“don’t push it,” you laugh. 

“starting lineup, a vet on the team. you notice how much the coaches and the staff trust you, huh?”

you manage a smile, a bit of heat creeping to your face. 

“they’re trusting me to just... you know, not mess it up too bad.”

she scoffs lightly, her hand moving down to rest on your arm. 

“y/n, you’re seriously too humble,” she says, voice low and just between the two of you. 

“i’ve watched you since i met you in lyon. you have this... confidence, even when you don’t realize it. you don’t just belong here; you are the standard. do you know how insane that is being nineteen years old,” the twenty-two year old rants.

your face feels hot, and you look down, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight blush you can feel creeping up. 

“yeah, well, it’s just pre-game stuff, you know? everyone gets this way.”

she tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips. 

“sure, if ‘pre-game stuff’ means having every player watching you just to see how it’s done or what to do next.” she moves closer, her voice dropping even lower. 

“you’re more than good, y/n. i’d watch you play any day.”

the words linger, carrying a weight you don’t want to examine too closely. she’s always been supportive, always the first to praise you, but somehow her words feel different today, more intense, and it settles in your chest, creating a strange, fluttering warmth you refuse to acknowledge.

“thanks, cat,” you mumble, fiddling with your shin guard. 

“i just... i appreciate it. and you know, don’t be too complimentary. i still have to actually do my job out there.”

she laughs, soft and genuine, her hand squeezing your arm before pulling away. 

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll be out there to keep you in check if your ego gets too big.”

just as you try to shake off the blush spreading across your cheeks, she leans in, her eyes catching yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “but, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice softer, almost affectionate, “don’t hold back out there.” 

you swallow, heart thudding harder than usual. 

“i… yeah. yeah, no holding back.”

she smirks, giving you one last, lingering glance before she walks away, leaving you trying to convince yourself that your racing pulse is just the pre-game jitters.

skipping two months later– you were so happy winning the champions league with lyon. you felt as if you were standing at the peak of everything you’d worked toward.

the final whistle echoed in your ears, your teammates’ arms wrapped around you in victory since you delivered a goal and two assists for the 4-2 win.

right there beside you was catarina, her face alight with that mix of joy and pride that only winning a title brings. the two of you had spent a year pushing each other to new limits, and this—this win felt like the culmination of everything. 

the celebration was wild, electric, stretching late into the night, but a bittersweet feeling hung in the back of your mind. 

you knew what came next: you’d have to return to new york, back to gotham.

a week back in new york, trying to settle back into familiar routines, you still found yourself thinking about lyon, about that feeling of playing on european soil, where the game felt more appreciated. 

the stakes somehow higher. you missed the thrill, the challenge, and most of all, you missed catarina’s presence on the field, her constant encouragement, her quiet, steady influence.

and then the call came from chelsea.

it was unexpected, a five-year contract offered by the london club, and the details? promising—more than you’d hoped for. it was an opportunity to stay in europe, to grow in a league you’d admired from afar, and in that instant, the decision felt like a piece of fate falling into place. 

chelsea felt right, like the next step, and the choice was almost immediate. within days, you found yourself preparing for a new chapter in london.

it’s 2022, and as you settle into your new life in london, there’s a sense of excitement that only grows with each passing day. the new team, the city, the endless possibilities—it feels fresh, like you’re on the edge of something big. 

yet, in quiet moments, you feel a pang of nostalgia for your year in lyon, for the late-night talks with catarina after long training days, the ease of sharing the same field, the bond you’d built. 

at chelsea, you built a good bond with all of your teammates. you’ve gotten to be close friends with lauren while having magda as your mentor. 

you missed catarina though, you had no idea why. she’d been more than just a teammate—she’d been a friend, a mentor, and you knew that her absence at the club level would be felt deeply.

you remind yourself that national breaks aren’t far off. you’ll see her again soon enough, the familiar red, white, and blue kit would be uniting you once more.

at chelsea, your time quickly became more than just playing football; it felt like finding a new family. 

magdalena, with her calm authority and easy smile, became an older sister figure, a presence you leaned on during tough games or even just long training sessions. pernille was right there beside her, offering a comforting mix of humor and insight that kept you grounded. 

together, they were like this solid, reassuring pair, and they had a way of making you feel like you belonged.

emma, your coach, saw something in you which is why she wanted you at the club per her request. she pushes you forward and shapes you into a player who could meet the intensity of the league.

 

her guidance, paired with the steady support of magda and pernille, along with your now bestfriend lauren, helped you grow both on and off the field.

at the end of the 22/23 season, magda and pernille gathered you aside after a practice session, their expressions a bit more serious than usual. magda was the first to speak.

“we wanted you to hear it from us,” she started, giving your arm a light squeeze. 

“pernille and i are… we’re leaving chelsea.”

you blinked, trying to process. 

“wait, leaving? like… transferring?”

pernille nodded, her smile soft but sad. 

“to bayern. it’s… it’s a chance for us to play together in germany, and we felt like this was the right time.”

you felt a pang in your chest, sadness bubbling up because you couldn’t imagine chelsea without them. but you couldn’t hold back a smile either, one that came from genuine happiness for them. 

“i’m gonna miss you both,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, 

“but i’m so happy you’re doing this together.”

magda pulled you into a hug, her arms warm and steady around you. 

“you’ll always have us, no matter where we go.”

you laughed, hugging them both tightly. 

“and i expect updates… lots of them.”

it wasn’t long after they left when lauren walked up to you one morning in the lounge, an unusual grin on her face.

as you were twirling your iced coffee together, making sure the creamer mixed well with the blonde coffee, lauren stops your wrist with a smirk. 

“heard the news?” lauren asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“what news?” you replied, eyebrows raised as you sit the paper cup down on the counter.

“your friend catarina is coming to chelsea. emma signed her on for a few seasons.”

you laughed, shaking your head. 

“yeah, right, lauren.”

lauren can be a jokster sometimes. however, she crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. 

“seriously. emma wanted her on the team, and cat’s contract with lyon was up. she’ll be here to visit us at training soon.”

the idea sounded impossible, almost surreal. cat, here? with you, at chelsea?

it wasn’t until you saw her stepping onto the training field, a black crossbody bag slung over her shoulder, that it hit you. you froze, hardly believing your eyes until she spotted you, her familiar smile breaking across her face. 

before you knew it, you were running toward her, your feet barely touching the ground as you threw yourself into her arms.

“cat!” you exclaimed, nearly breathless.

she laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“hey! god, it’s good to see you.”

pulling back, making sure to consider her knee injury, you couldn’t help but grin, words spilling out all at once. 

“i can’t believe you’re here! lauren told me, but i thought she was messing with me.”

cat shook her head, her own smile warm and genuine as she holds your waist. 

“nope, it’s real. looks like we’re back on the same team.”

just as you opened your mouth to ask about training together, her expression shifted, a slight grimace.

“i know, but with my knee its going to be a while.”  she hesitated, glancing down at her knee. 

“its alright, you’ll come back stronger!” you smile, your dimples showing as you show catarina around the place before you had to go to training practice. 

six months later– it’s 2024. catarina’s first day to light training feels like an event, with the entire team gathered in the gym to show support for her coming back from an acl injury. 

everyone’s happy, cheering her on as she settles in for her workout. you stand close by, eyes fixed on her as she picks up the barbell, your attention unwavering. this is a huge step for cat, and you want to be there for her.

as cat positions herself to start her barbell step-ups, sjoeke moves in, hands up, ready to help spot her. 

“i got you, cat,” she says with a smile, stepping up beside her.

before you realize it, you’re already speaking, your voice coming out firm, almost a little too quick as you step behind cat beside sjoeke. 

“no, it’s fine, sjo. i’ll help her.” 

sjoeke pauses, raising an eyebrow at your tone, her smile shifting into something almost skeptical. she looks between you and cat, the air thick with a subtle tension. 

“really?” she asks, voice edged with a hint of challenge. 

“because i can spot her, y/n.”

“i don’t mind,” you insist, feeling the warmth creep up your neck, realizing how eager you sound. 

“i can handle it.”

there’s a beat of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air, and sjoeke’s expression softens, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. her eyes narrow slightly, an amused glint in her gaze as she takes in your stance, the way your attention doesn’t waver from cat. 

she puts her hands up, taking a step back with a knowing look. 

“alright, y/n. she’s all yours.”

the team’s eyes are on you as you step into place beside catarina, your focus sharpening as you move in to spot her. cat glances up, smiling at you. 

“thanks,” she says softly, her eyes warm, trusting.

“anytime,” you murmur, feeling the faintest flicker of nerves as you help steady her. your hands hover near her shoulders, close enough to catch her if needed, your gaze lingering on her face longer than you intended. 

she doesn’t seem to notice, focused on her workout, but you can’t help the way your eyes trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders, the way her breath deepens with each step up. 

there’s an intimacy in the moment that feels almost palpable, and you struggle to tear your gaze away, as if caught in something you’re not ready to admit to.

from the wall, lauren’s leaning back, watching with a bemused smile as you stay glued to cat’s side, every bit the protective spotter. 

when she catches the way you look at cat, something just a bit too intense, she comes over to you after you finish helping cat.

“so,” lauren starts, her voice a low murmur, 

“what’s with that look?”

you shoot her a glance, brushing it off. 

“what look?”

she raises an eyebrow, grinning. 

“you’re looking at her like she’s a piece of cheesecake or some shit?”

“i don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging, trying to keep your tone casual, but lauren isn’t buying it.

“right, you just happened to nearly elbow sjoeke out of the way to help her.” she nudges you, clearly entertained as you walk out of the gym area with lauren following. 

“i didn’t know you were so... possessive.”

“i’m just helping a teammate, lauren,” you say, a bit more defensively than you meant.

she laughs, exchanging a look with katie, who’s been watching with a raised eyebrow. 

“teammate, huh? well, looks like you’re a really supportive one. maybe you could give me a back massage,”

“gross,” you laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. 

you make your way to the lounge, hoping to avoid further questions. as you step in, ashley, mille, and zecira are all sitting together, looking up as lauren walks in behind you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“guys, guess what i just saw,” lauren announces, voice full of laughter. 

“y/n practically staking a claim on catarina during training.”

you feel the heat rising to your face, reaching for a protein bar to keep your hands busy. 

“lauren, do you ever shut up?” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the room erupts in laughter.

ashley shakes her head, grinning wide. 

“i fucking knew it! i knew you had a little thing for cat.”

“please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you open the protein bar. 

“you all have overactive imaginations.”

just as you think you might have a chance to let it blow over… sam, who sits on the couch beside mille, finishes her call with her fiance kristie, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. 

“so, y/n,” she starts, her grin just as playful, 

“you gonna do something about this little crush, or what?”

you sigh, taking a bite of the protein bar. 

“what crush?”

everyone around you laughs, clearly not fooled, and as much as you try to deny it, you can’t shake the way your heart jumps whenever you’re around cat.

march 2024 arrives and it feels like the start of something new and familiar all at once. it’s game day against leicester city, but there’s an extra pulse of excitement coursing through the chelsea locker room as everyone pulls on their light blue kits. 

for you, this game holds a different kind of significance: it’s the first time you’ll be sharing the pitch with catarina since your days at lyon, and though she won’t be starting, just knowing she’s there—back from the injury that’s kept her away from the game she loves—adds a layer of warmth to everything.

you catch her watching you from across the locker room, her gaze dropping from your eyes to linger as you adjust your shirt and tug on your socks. it’s almost enough to make your breath hitch, and it doesn’t help that the kit has a snug fit, a sleek light blue that seems to catch her attention. 

her eyes trail up slowly, as if she’s memorizing every detail, and when her gaze meets yours, she looks away with a small, shy smile. 

erin, sitting beside her, sees it all and nudges cat in the shoulder with a smirk that says she’s absolutely onto her.

the pre-game energy is high as you head out onto the field, and while you’d usually be in the midfield, today you’re positioned as left-back. the shift feels strange, like wearing a jacket that’s just slightly too big. you tell yourself to adjust, to focus on the rhythm of the game and do your part.

as the whistle blows and the play begins, you find yourself absorbed in the moment, thoughts of cat lingering but pushed to the back as you settle into the role.

in the 38th minute, an opportunity opens. bjorn is making a move toward the box, slipping past defenders, her eyes focused and ready. you’re aware of the ball at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of it as you move up the wing. scanning the field, you find the angle and send a cross sailing toward bjorn, hoping she’ll connect. 

she times her jump perfectly, meeting the ball with a header that sends it directly into the net. the crowd erupts, a sea of blue cheering as your teammates swarm bjorn in celebration. 

a grin spreads across your face, pride surging as you run back to position, your gaze flicking to the bench where you spot cat clapping, her eyes on you, the corners of her mouth pulled into an admiring smile.

the game presses on, and in the 44th minute, you spot another chance. mayra’s waiting near the edge of the box, finding an opening just wide enough for a clean shot. slipping past the defender, you send the ball right to her feet. 

she doesn’t waste a second, taking the shot and sending it straight into the net with a perfect strike. you jump on her back in celebration, happy to give the second assist for a player that is out of position.

it's 2-0 before halftime, and as you jog back, you’re buzzing with the energy of the lead.

the walk to the locker room is filled with celebratory chatter, but as soon as you settle onto the bench, your mind starts to go over every play. being out of position has you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that’s hard to shake. 

you sit there, running through every mistake, every step you might have taken wrong, the weight of your own expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

even with the two assists, you’re surprised that no defensive errors you’ve committed ended up with a conceding goal. 

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice cat coming up beside you until her hand lands gently on your shoulder, her voice soft and soothing. 

“hey,” she murmurs, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. 

“you’re doing great out there. seriously, y/n.”

you manage a nod, though your shoulders still feel tense. she must notice, because without a word, she pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels grounding. 

the warmth of her hand on your back, tracing gentle circles, starts to ease the tension, her touch a reminder to breathe.

“you’ve got this,” she whispers, her voice steady and close, almost like a secret between the two of you. 

“you’re holding it down out there, trust me. emma even said that you’re doing great defensively for someone that's mainly an attacker.”

you let yourself lean into her a little more, savoring the reassurance, her breath warm against your temple. it feels grounding, safe, and for a moment, you don’t want to let go. 

there’s something about the way her arms hold you, strong yet gentle, that makes the anxiety ebb away, leaving a warmth that has nothing to do with the game.

just then, sjoeke clears her throat from across the room. 

“gross,” she calls out, a playful grin on her face. 

“get a room, you two.”

you and cat pull back, laughing, though you feel the heat rush to your face as she lets go, her hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. 

“thanks, cat,” you say softly, offering her a smile.

“anytime,” she replies, her gaze lingering, warm and full of something you can’t quite name.

you head back out for the second half, but she stays on the bench, still recovering, cheering from the sidelines. knowing she’s there, watching, makes you feel a little lighter, your movements sharper, steadier. 

it’s the 72nd minute, you’re  focused on pushing up the left flank, linking up with your attackers, and keeping your defensive responsibilities in check. your eyes scan the field, watching for openings, and it’s only when you catch lauren jogging toward the sideline and the fourth ref holding up the number board that you realize who’s coming on in her place. 

catarina is stepping onto the pitch, and despite your efforts to keep composed, a bright smile tugs at your lips. this is the first time in so long that you’ll be playing together, and for once, you let yourself admit it, if only silently—you have a crush on her.

you turn your attention back to the field, your heart beating a little quicker, that sense of familiarity and excitement building with each touch of the ball. 

she’s out here with you now, right where you’ve wanted her to be, and knowing she’s nearby is enough to make you feel even more determined.

in the 78th minute, you get the ball near midfield and start driving up, your pace quickening as you swerve around a few defenders. your feet are light, every movement fluid as you weave through their attempts to block you. 

when you reach the edge of the box, you catch sight of cat, her positioning perfect. without a second thought, you use the outside of your foot to send a quick pass in her direction, the ball rolling smoothly toward her.

cat doesn’t hesitate. she meets the ball with a precise kick, sending it past the goalkeeper and straight into the net. 

as the crowd erupts, you can’t help the excitement that surges through you. before you know it, you’re running toward her, a wide grin on your face, arms open as you close the distance.

“cat!” you shout, laughter in your voice as you reach her, wrapping her in a hug. her arms come around you instantly, holding you tight, and for a moment, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in the center of the pitch.

“we did it,” she murmurs, her voice soft, just for you to hear.

“that was all you!” you cheer.

you feel her grip on you tighten, and your heart swells as the rest of the team joins in, everyone piling into the group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

the game’s finally  over, and the stadium is cheering with the energy of chelsea’s victory. you’ve got a genuine grin on your face, eyes drawn to cat as she makes her way through a string of congratulatory hugs from the team. 

she’s radiant, practically glowing in the aftermath of the match, and watching her light up like that stirs something deep within you. but, as thrilled as you are for her, there’s a quiet, nagging feeling creeping up in your chest.

a thought crosses your mind—would she ever really want to be with you? maybe you’re too young, too inexperienced for someone like her. what if she doesn’t even like women? the doubts start stacking up in your mind as you watch her laughing with the others, and it’s impossible to shake the feeling of insecurity as it clouds over your happiness, just for a moment.

emma notices your gaze, the way your smile flickers, and sidles up beside you. 

“everything alright?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes knowing.

you hesitate, then decide to be honest. 

“i just... i don’t know. it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, but emma doesn’t let it go.

“it doesn’t look like nothing,” she says with a small smile, glancing over at cat. 

“you know, it’s pretty obvious on both sides.”

you blink, taken aback. 

“both sides?”

emma nods. 

“cat likes you too. maybe she doesn’t always show it in the ways you expect, but... it’s there. the entire team can see it.”

her words sink in, warm and reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. what does that mean? do you dare to take it seriously?

before you can ask more, emma steps away, and cat is suddenly in front of you again, grinning and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. the embrace is so close, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels like more than just a friendly gesture. 

you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours, and a part of you wishes you could stay like this, here in her arms, forever.

neither of you says anything, and in the quiet of the moment, you’re just holding each other, lost in the feeling. around you, you notice a few chelsea fans snapping pictures, murmurs about a possible new couple, but you don’t even care. 

you’re caught up in her warmth, in the closeness, until you finally let go, smiling softly at her.

later, as the team heads off, you invite a few people over to your apartment to relax. most are too tired to celebrate, and honestly, you’re relieved—hosting company sounds exhausting after a long day, and you’re happy enough to have a quiet night to yourself. 

you head home, showering and settling into your soft pajamas, the contentment from the day still making you smile.

you’re about to head to bed when a knock at the door catches your attention. curious, you pad over and look through the peephole, only to see cat standing there, hands in her sweatpant pockets, looking slightly unsure. 

you quickly unlock and open the door, blinking at her in surprise.

“cat, what are you doing here? it’s almost midnight,” you say, though a grin creeps onto your face.

she shrugs, grinning back. 

“you did say you were hosting company, didn’t you?”

you chuckle, stepping aside to let her in. 

“okay, you got me. want something to drink? i’ve got water, maybe some juice…”

she watches you as you head to the kitchen, her eyes flicking over you, taking in your comfortable clothes and how your body fits in them. 

“water’s fine,” she says, though her gaze lingers a little longer, sending a flutter through your stomach.

you hand her the glass, and as she takes it, you notice her eyes lingering again, tracing over your face, down to your lips, then quickly looking away. the subtle glances have your heartbeat picking up, the room suddenly feeling warmer. 

the way she’s looking at you is... different. intense. it’s as if there’s something unspoken between you, simmering beneath the surface.

she catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“why are you looking at me like that?”

caught off guard, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but, with the comfort of your apartment and the courage you feel just from being around her, you answer truthfully. 

“because... you look beautiful,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words leave your lips before you even fully realize it, but you don’t regret them.

cat’s eyes widen, her smile softening. she sets down her glass, then takes a step closer, so close that you can feel her warmth radiating. without another word, she reaches for you, pulling you down onto the couch and gently guiding you to sit on her lap. 

you can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto your face as you settle, feeling her hands resting on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“what are we doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet, curiosity sparking with a mix of nerves and excitement.

cat’s hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb tracing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t know... what do you want us to be?” she murmurs, her gaze intense, searching yours for a hint of what you’re feeling.

you swallow, feeling a rush of confidence at her words, the encouragement in her tone. your eyes flick to her lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you ask, 

“can i kiss you?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just leans forward, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. her hand settles on your hip, gentle but possessive, grounding you as you melt into her. 

when you pull back slightly, your heart pounding, you manage a small smile, feeling braver than before.

“will you... will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper, barely able to contain the hope in your voice.

her answering smile is warm and bright, and without a moment’s hesitation, she pulls you back into her embrace, her lips finding yours once more. 

“absolutely.”

masterlist

[tokoyamisstuff]

gn! Reader | no warnings

Alucard

Walter

All dates take place after nightfall of course, letting you participate in his world.

He chooses a rather intimate setting, appreciating a good wine and deep conversation over anything fancy. Is a surprisingly great dancer and there's no room for discussion, you will get swirled around by him in a close waltz.

Shows you incredible places no human has ever set eyes upon, and loves to entertain you with his powers. It's nice using them for something good for a change...

Doesn't let you lift a finger and is always at your service. No need to feel bad, it's a pleasure to him.

Anderson

I imagine him being very active for his age. Will take you hiking or doing other challenging activities as bonding time. Is very fond of nature in general, probably does a picknick, stargazing or even swimming at a secluded lake.

Is a creature of habit, having favourite places to spend the evenings with you. People in there will all know you since you come so regulary.

To him, just about anything counts as a date as long as you're together. Likes to take long walks or just reading besides each other.

Unlike his usual impression he's a sophisticated man so shall he plan something, it'll probably be an art gallery or a cultural monument (preferably churches or other religious things).

He also enjoys corny stuff like christmas markets and classes where you handcraft stuff, pottery for example. Is horrible at it but will gift you the results anyways.

Maxwell

Free time is scarce to this workaholic, but he tries to make the most of it and spend every single second with you.

Luke Valentine

Man's exhausted, so he'd choose a spa day to relax together. Books one of those rooms with a whirlpool and other conveniences just for the two of you.

He won't talk much but actions say more than words, this man loves to indulges you in any way.

Jan Valentine

Treats you like a celebrity. Getting seen and showing you around are his top priority.

He's a very public-spirited person so expect to always be somewhere lively. Picks out what you wear and makes you meet lots of new people. Also loves showing you the world, taking you to different countries just for a day.

Puts a lot of effort in outwards appearance and reputation, but every date ends calm with just the two of you.

The Captain

There's not a single romantic cell in this body. Would probably visit a club going all out and stay in bed fucking you stupid the whole next day. That's it, that's his ideal date.

Be vocal about what you wish for and give clear instructions, then he'll gladly prepare whatever's on your mind.

Likes to brag, so you'd probably do stuff like bowling or him winning prices for you. Is the kind of guy who loudly declares his love for his amazing partner to anyone who didn't ask.

The Major

Not being very sociable he prefers staying at home. Brings you breakfast in bed and the two of you will stay in cozy clothes or naked the whole day.

Enjoys doing domestic stuff, for example simply playing card games, watching comfort shows or baking cookies. A taste of normalcry feels absolutely wonderful to him.

Will be very touchy the whole time, always needing his hands somewhere on your body.

This is a well prepared man. Knows it all and plans everything according to your taste.

If you let him decide, he'd definetly knows some special restaurants with great view or atmosphere. Books it out completely so you'll have privacy. With him you'll definetly feel special and listened to.

His hobbies include very old movies/history documentaries, building miniature models and hunting. Like in the literal sense shooting animals in the wild. Wouldn't force you to participate but it'd mean a lot if you at least show interest.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Other fanfic idea : a girl goes to the church where king Baldwin is buried and she somehow finds something that takes her immediately to medieval Jerusalem , you make the rest ❤️

♡ A Ripple In Time - King Baldwin x Time Travler Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon, thank you for the request. I hope you like this and its what you had in mind! Sorry for the abrupt ending, I just didn't want to make this really long and boring haha. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figgures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

“Hey, young lady!  keep up with the group! We don't want you getting left behind” the tour guide called out. Y/n looked up at her group who had already started moving away from where she stood. ‘“Sorry sir” she called out, catching up to them as they began moving into the church.

“Alright everyone listen up!” the tour guide spoke as they came to a stop. “This church is not only an ancient monument, but it's also the final resting place of King Baldwin the fourth of Jerusalem. This man is a well renowned historical figure, not just for being a ruler, but also for his strength in continuing to win many battles, despite being diagnosed with leprosy at the young age of nine”. The tour guide explained. “Just over there, is his tomb. Now, tours aren't allowed in there, workers only. So we will keep moving on to one more spot, then grab some lunch if you guys are hungry” he continued.

Y/n was displeased by this. She needed to enter that room. That was the only reason she took this stupid college ancient history class in the first place. A full two years of begrudgingly passing exams and engaging in conversations with the idiots who also took the class, just for this?

She needed to enter into that room.

Y/n was a physics student. She was gifted with intelligence from a young age and had found her passion in the language of the universe. Mathematics. She was determined to find out all there was to know about its secrets. Including time travel.

She knew about the layers of the atmosphere and how there were ten that humans know of. The third layer was the three dimensional reality that humans exist in. She knew that anyone with access to the fourth dimension, had access to the fifth dimension. And if you had access to the fifth dimension, you could travel through time. Even bend it to your will if you wished.

After a major scientific breakthrough earlier in the year upon the discovery of the fourth dimension and the creation of a device that pressed atoms together so hard that it created a tear in time itself, she was ready.

She had not told anybody about this and attended the college class trip to Jerusalem, thinking it was a perfect opportunity for a proper test run. She had tested the machine before already, sending herself back only a few minutes then documenting the results. So she knew this would work, but she needed privacy and the tomb was the perfect place. The machine could only take her back in time to the place the machine was located. So if she wanted to see some action, she would need to be in a place that saw a lot of action. And 11th century Jerusalem seemed like a perfect place and time.

--------------- 

She waited around until everybody had moved off, hoping that the tour guide would not notice her absence again. Thankfully, he didn't. Her lack of friends in that class greatly helped her slip away unnoticed also.

She looked around to ensure she was alone before trying the door to the tomb. It was unlocked. She opened it just enough to slip through and entered.

The room was cold and dark, aside from some light entering through a stained glass window. Y/n paid no attention to her surroundings, simply removing the device from her bag. If this worked, she would go down in history. She would be the greatest physicist of all time.

She grinned in exitement as she threw her backpack over her shoulder and prepared the device, entering in the date she wished to return to.

She pressed the final button and immediately, the world spun around her. Y/n closed her eyes, feeling reality shift. When she opened her eyes again, she was surrounded by dessert. The church was gone and it was dark. About half a mile infront of her was a large city. A kingdom. It worked. It actually worked. A grin formed on the young woman's face. She had done it.

Quickly reaching into her bag, she removed some clothing. Clothing that she had crafted herself to blend into the environment and time period. She removed her clothing, aside from her underwear and bra and slipped on the handmade robes. She put everything, including her backpack, into a large bag that she had also handcrafted to blend in and slipped it over her shoulder. Now she was ready to enter the city.

Y/n could see the kingdom, illuminated by the dull firelight of torches. She knew where she would go first. The castle. She wanted to have a look around, observe the way of life of the locals. That King Baldwin man seemed interesting. Maybe she would get a look at him. But her main priority was collecting as much evidence of this experience as she could without being caught.

It would not be difficult, she knew enough about the mindset and way of life of people from this era, from that class and her own research. So she could blend in well enough.

Her main concern was contracting a disease, but she brought antibiotics as well as hand sanitizer, her own water and food, as well as soap. So as long as she didnt touch much, she figured it would be fine. 

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

As y/n approached the kingdom, she noticed that it was surrounded by a large wall. The gates were shut. Luckily, she had prepared for something exactly like this.

Smiling at her innovative genius, she reached into the large bag and removed a long rope with a thick hook attached. Putting the bag back over her shoulder, she took a few steps back and threw the rope with all her strength. It landed perfectly, gripping the top of the wall. She tugged the rope a few times, ensuring the hook was secure before she began to climb.

Y/n was not a delicate woman. She was in fact quite muscular. Her body had been trained for many years through a rock climbing hobby, which was now proving useful.

She reached the top of the wall and stood up to admire her work. She sat down on top of the high wall and pulled the rope up from the side she just climbed up and moved it to the side of the wall she needed to descend. Once that was in place, she abseiled down the wall with ease.

Upon reaching the bottom, she shook the rope to remove the hook and threw it back into her bag. Now the fun could begin. 

She slowly made her way up to the castle, stopping to avoid royal guards who walked through the city. Eventually, she made it.

The castle was also surrounded by a large wall, so she repeated the process of scaling the wall with the rope and hook. Y/n decided to take a break on top of the wall to compose herself and devise a plan for entering the castle.

She opened her bag and took out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. She lit up a cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply and exhaling it through her nose, allowing it to warm her up from the inside. The night air was cool and still. Peaceful.

By the time she finished the cigarette, she knew what she wanted to do. She would enter the castle through a window or balcony and explore. The only issue was the royal guards who she knew would be throughout the entire building. If worse came to worse, she had a handgun in her backpack. But she figured she wouldn't need it. She stubbed out the cigarette and made her descent down the wall. 

Y/n walked cautiously around the outside of the palace, using the darkness as an advantage to avoid the guards. Eventually she spotted a balcony. Perfect. Throwing the rope up, it hooked the balcony with ease. There was no wall to assist her climb, so she was forced to climb the rope with no support.

This was no issue for y/n. The years of rock climbing had continued to prove useful. When she reached the balcony, it was even darker without the flaming torches on the outside of the castle lighting her way. The only light was from the dull glow of candle light coming from inside the room the balcony led to and the full moon.

The door was open. Putting the rope back into her bag, she entered to explore. Upon closer inspection, the room appeared to be a bedroom chamber of sorts. It was large and lavish with a desk and a bookshelf. That was when she noticed a large bed, off to the side of where she entered.

Y/n could see a figure, laying underneath the covers. Out of plain curiosity, she approached the bedside of the figure. It appeared to be a man. He lay on his back, with one bandaged hand on his chest and the other laying beside him. He wore white sleep robes and his cheeks and nose were covered with bandages, exposing his forehead and lower face. He had softly curled blonde hair and appeared to be quite young. Maybe twenty. Around her age.

Y/n was taken aback by his beauty. He was gorgeous. His eyes were shut peacefully and his lips were parted a little as he snored softly, chest rising and falling evenly. Clearly in a deep sleep, lucky for her.

It was then she realized. The bandages. The lavish room. The balcony. This had to have been the King Baldwin that the tour guide had spoken of. He was much more handsome than she expected. She noticed on his bedside sat an iron mask, that must have been what he wore during the day. 

Y/n smiled to herself at the sight of the sleeping young man. As much as she didnt want to take her eyes away from him, she needed to continue on. She reached the door and slipped out, leaving the king to his peaceful rest.

She walked down the hallway slowly, stopping the check behind her every now and again. It was a beautiful architecture, with intricate carvings all around. Y/n stopped to remove her camera from the bag to take some photos. She took a few pictures of the hallway and continued moving.

Eventually after one to many close calls, she figured she must be leaving before she was caught.

She made her way back to the king's chambers to exit via the balcony. She slipped through the door and was greeted by a comforting warmth and the young man’s gentle snoring. She gave him one last look before heading for the balcony.

She was just about to remove the rope from her bag when she heard somebody call out a soft “hello?”. Y/n froze in place. Her eyes went wide. “Fuck” she thought, turning around slowly to see the king sitting up in bed, propped up on his elbows, eyes wide. He looked terrified.

Their eyes met each one another. "Why are you here? I will not hesitate to call the guards” Baldwin said, attempting to keep his voice steady, but it still trembled. “I'm not going to hurt you, your highness” y/n replied, putting her hands up in a surrendering motion. “I was just leaving. I have not stolen anything, I am unarmed and I have not harmed anybody. I promise” she said confidently, awaiting his reply, ready to grab the rope and climb down in case he didn't buy it.

“Why are you here then?” he sounded less afraid now, more curious. “You would not believe me if I told you” y/n replied softly. He tilted his head to the side, studying her carefully. It reminded her of a curious dog seeing something new for the first time. “What is your name madame?” he asked after a few seconds.

“My name is y/n. I come from a very far away land” she could have sworn she saw him smile a little. “I am sure I would believe you if you told me why you were here,” he replied. Y/n sighed, picking up her bag and approaching him slowly.

“I come from the future" she said bluntly. "For my research I have returned to this time in Jerusalem to observe the past '' she saw no harm in telling him this, it's not like anybody would believe him. Even by morning, he may think that she was just a dream.

“Is that so? How did you travel to the past then?” y/n smirked at this, ready to show off her device with pride.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the device. Baldwin moved over on the bed, giving her space to sit.

She explained how it worked as simply as she could. He asked plenty of questions, each one with complete interest and curiosity. The two spoke for a long time about the device.

“Y/n you are incredible” he said eventually. The young woman chuckled at his words. She looked up to meet his eyes. “Truely, you are amazing. I would love to see you again. Perhaps another night?” he offered.

“That would be lovely, your majesty,” y/n said with a smile. He returned the smile before moving a bandaged hand to cover a soft yawn. He looked very tired.

“I will leave you to get some rest now” y/n said, standing. “Alright” he replied, sounding somewhat disappointed. “I'll be back tomorrow, swear it” she said with a smirk. “I look forward to it” Baldwin replied, yawing again and laying back down.

“Goodnight your majesty” 

“Goodnight, y/n”

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

As y/n climbed down the rope, she thought about the interaction carefully. Needless to say, she was surprised.

She had thought he would have panicked and called her a witch when she explained the device to him. But no, he was just interested in her work. She decided she would return to the future for the night then return to the past to meet with Baldwin the following night.

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

Y/n made her return to the future and regrouped with her class. She was amazed at the fact that she could spend hours in another century then return as if no time had passed at all. 

That night, when her class retired to their rooms, she returned to the past. Following the same process as last time. Change her clothes. Over the first wall. Dodge the guards. Over the second wall. Dodge the guards. Until she reached the balcony.

She climbed the rope and entered the room to see the young king, just as she found him the night prior. Fast asleep. She walked over to him slowly so as not to startle him.

Y/n kneeled down and rubbed his shoulder softly to wake him. His ocean blue eyes fluttered open to meet hers, a small smile spread across his face.

“Y/n, you returned. I thought you were a pleasant dream” he said sleepily. She smiled at his adorable words. She liked him, that's for sure. He was the only man she had ever met who actually listened to her speak about her work without becoming intimidated by her intelligence and attempting to upstage her. 

They spoke about many things, y/n sitting on the edge of the bed and him leaning against the headboard. Their conversation was pleasant for both of them.

They spoke for hours, until Baldwin grew tired. He layed back down and y/n tucked him in. He felt himself falling for her every minute they spent together. She was the most intelligent woman he had ever met, and her stories about the future were incredible. He enjoyed learning about what was to come for humankind greatly.

They agreed to meet up the following night. And again, and again. This continued this for a month before Baldwin offered the question.

It was late and y/n was about to leave. The young king was very tired and speaking whatever was on his mind seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Y/n. Please. Stay here with me. I want to make you my wife. Your wisdom is encapsulating and you're beautiful. So, beautiful…” his words trailed away as he dozed off, leaving y/n to stand by his bedside, completely lost for words and overcome by happiness.

A large smile crossed her face. She bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yes. I will stay in your time and be your wife Baldwin” she whispered softly to the sleeping man.

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

So, they were wed. And the origins of the new queen remained nothing but a secret shared between husband and wife.

[lovetei]

I'm in for everything that includes the MC being the sugar instead of the baby :P

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

MC taking the brothers in Disneyland and everything is already paid

Warnings:

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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

LUCIFER

He's shocked

You randomly went to the human world and refuses to say anything why

And then you came back with bags and shades saying "Come one losers, we're going to Disneyland!"

This was not on their budget plan...

What do you mean they don't need to pay anything?

You paid it all...

He's... Thankful really...

Well, they need some time off once in a while.

In Disneyland he'll be the parent brother and would say "Satan stand next to that large mouse, I'll take a picture."

Like

He's also the type to hold the map upside down and wonder what type of language humans are using now because this ain't the one he used to know

When you ask him "Are you enjoying it?" his smile will dissappear and he'll blush before answering "Yes..."

MAMMON

You're leaving? Aww :(

We're going to Disneyland?! Yeah :)

Lucifer don't want to? Aww :(

Lucifer agreed?! Yeah :)

You paid everything?! Yeah >:)

In Disneyland he'll be the type to buy every souvenir he liked

He'll also walk around with those headbands inspired by characters

Will probably follor Lucifer and he told him to stand next to something and pose as he will take a picture

Hell, he'll be laughing his ass off as Lucifer take those pictures with his old ass camera

Like this.

LEVIATHAN

You left..?

For what?

Oh you're taking them all to Disneyland?!

Like the Disneyland he saw on those human series?!

But Lucifer...

He agreed?!

WAHHH! He's so happy!

He's walking around the park with a map in his hand and he's blushing so much out of happiness

If you hold his hand while walking he'll be so happy he might even tear up.

But he'll show you his skills on those small stalls that includes guns and stuff to win small prizes

For short, he'll subtly show off

SATAN

He doesn't really care if they can go or not

But he did not actually expect Lucifer to agree with it

He's the smart guy

Always looking for those cheeper but still good food

He'll also be the type to distribute the brothers on each ride and stand in line

Whoever gets to ride first will let the others skip the line

And when Lucifer told him to stand beside that fucking monument of this character the human worshipped so much named "Mickey"

He popped a vessel

But he can't cause a scene so he just stood there

ASMODEUS

If you can't parsuade Lucifer then he might just help you

He might even have his brothers sign a petition or something

And in Disneyland he'll just be all around buying stuffs

He's like that pretty girl you will see in lines that will start screaming, going ape shit the moment she stepped in the viking ride or something

While Lucifer took pictures of Satan

He's standing there judgmentally

Cause as a fucking model

Why the fuck is this bitch standing there like that?

CHEST OUT CHIN UP HE SAID

BEELZEBUB

You guessed it

He only liked the Disneyland because of the food there and that fact that the whole place smells like popcorn everytime

He's carrying Belphie ALL THE TIME

In rides he does more work than those shitty ass seat belts tbh

And he's just standing there looking proud with his hotdog because he think they look like family

BELPHEGOR

He thinks it's a hassle but since you want to go there too

He has no choice

He refuses to take pictures

He doesn't buy souvenirs

And he refuses to stand in lines

He's also the type of visitor that you'll see taking a bench all for himself by sleeping there

Like

He's sleeping when Lucifer took the photo but he'll laugh his ass off later.

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

[evelynpr]

bakugou for the character ask game?

Truly the teenage boy, shonen deuteragonist, love interest coded, gay asshole, of all time.

My first impression - Woah I did not understand why people were so into this guy. Like I get it, he's a flawed and loud pretty boy, he gets character development, and probably gay, but seriously him??? His mouth is so fucking foul and he is so up his ass. - I was meh with this character, enjoyed him in fan content, but just did not get why people were sooo into this guy.

My impression now - I cried in "Light Fades To Rain". Twice. - My god his growth...his will, his persistence, and by god his love for Izuku is so ridiculous and powerful I just cannot help but admire the little shithead. - He is also a lot more to me than I expected, with the whole "foul mouth shit", "high expectations bullshit", "violent urges", and "dedicating your whole life and love to someone you love and admire" and that...that makes me feel quite conflicted.

Favorite thing about that character - The thing about Bakugou is that...you just cannot help but wish you had the same kind of persistence, strength, will, and power that he does. I love how all this is initially so shallow and selfish, then grows to wanting to be a better and truer hero. He really learns and changes and is just an unstoppable force of nature, it's genuinely incredible and beautiful to watch.

Least favorite thing - I wished that the overall writing did go harder in making him stop bad-mouthing people and...everything so much. You can tell he did grow to respect and care for people around him more, but by gods he is sooo bad at communicating his feelings right now. (tbf, he is so fucking young and traumatized) - Also, really please stop hitting people. I get a knee-jerk reaction to that kind of physical violence sometimes ngl.

Favorite line/scene - There are so many. I already mentioned his death in "Light Fades to Rain" so I'll mention a different one - Team Bakugou in Class A vs B was so goddamn good, for being a monumental milestone of his character. How much he trusted his teammates and put himself in danger to save others, winning in the end. No injuries, no failures, truly a perfect beautiful victory. How he also pushes Deku to keep getting better afterwards in his usual constipated-ass language too. Man I just love that battle to death.

Favorite interaction that character has with another - (me pulling out scenes that aren't bkdk centered here hahaha) - I fucking LOVED the Bakugou vs Ochako fight. It made me love Ochako so so much as a kid. I really wished we had a follow-up to that battle, and it genuinely changed my life. - I love how it really shows just how focused and rational he is in battle. How he truly respects his opponents, Ochako in this case, and the sports festival really establishes so much about him.

A character that I wish that character would interact with more - Speaking of which...OCHAKO VS BAKUGO 2 COME ONNNN - There is SO MUCH these two need to talk about. How to save people, who they want to save, who saved them, never underestimating each other, how they changed and grew. I just love these two characters to bits, that's why I need them to FIGHT AND TALK SO BADDDD - Additional: Also Toga (see my post on Toga right before this one lmao), Shoto (because I still don't really get their friendship but its hilarious, and I love Shoto)

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character - I legit cannot think of anything here...like for Toga...I am so sorry my brain is blanking T__T - It's hard to be a massive anger-issue filled, victory-focused, die for their lover (twice), amazing chef, all at once, kinda guy...you know?

A headcanon about that character - I am a believer in trans!fem Bakugo in the future. He's so ridiculously angry for some reason, voice always cracking, and just on-edge for some reason. Idk I just think its hilarious and satisfying if he transed his gender in the future and became happier and more comfortable.

A song that reminds of that character - I also have a Bkdk playlist in the making! Here's some bkg focused songs in character development order: - Boys will be Bugs, President Perfect, Top of my School, Oh No!, I'm Gonna Win, The Last of the Real Ones, Skyfall, Die For You, Set Fire to the Rain

An unpopular opinion about that character - Like Toga, he actually isn't possessive. I think he quite well understands and accepts that Izuku is a very loving person that many people are easily drawn to (I mean, he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't understand that). - He is protective instead of possessive. He keeps an eye out for anything and anyone who could possibly actually hurt Izuku, but he doesn't hold him back at all in hanging around with others, and when other people fall for Izuku either. - He is actually quite skinny, and doesn't have the big thick buff guy build. Those go to Izuku and Iida more imo.

Favorite picture - I never really thought of this much??? I love art of him being softer, more solemn, quiet and contemplative even. I guess I'll go pick out some favs right now...

Here they are! Hope you enjoy the post lmao

[artist-issues]

You know... it also just seems really weird that Disney has been going out of it's way to subvert everything from its past.

If I put myself in the mind of "everything we were founded on, and everything we create before ~2016 was bad" I don't see why I'd keep going. Like... if Disney thinks Disney sucks, why be Disney? (money IG)

You're right! It must be a very discouraging thing to work for Disney nowadays, if you're the kind of person to think about legacy, or occupy your daily thoughts with some degree of foresight.

The truth is, there is a part of Disney that is successful because it was innovative--it raised the bar and set the culture.

But there's also a part of Disney that is trying to guess what the culture likes, and capitalize on that popularity--the culture tells it what to do.

That's all organizations. Some are brave and say, "no, this is who we are and what we believe, and you can take it or leave it." And usually the culture takes it, because the culture is inspired by strong leadership and clear identities.

But then they get a big following. And it's almost impossible for the organization that used to shape the culture to do anything but become terrified that they'll lose that culture. So then they start making decisions based out of fear, and self-glorification, and insecurity--the total opposite of the confident, bold, innovative identity it used to have.

Disney used to say "oh you think cartoons are just gags? Let me invent the first ever animated feature film--in color! See you in the National Film Registry, skeptics."

It used to say, "oh, you critics think all my fairy tale and animal movies are too light? That they've got no weight to help the kids face real life? Let me make a smash-hit about a Nanny who convinces a work-and-harsh-realities-obsessed father that what his children really need is a spoonful of sugar. Because yeah, life's hard, but that's why we make the job a game."

It used to say, "you think the animated genre died with Walt? You think everyone would rather watch George Lucas movies than a cartoon fairy tale? Let me introduce you to an Academy Award-winning Princess story we call the Little Mermaid. You can stop digging our grave; we just saved animation."

It used to say "you think it can't be done? Hold my mouse ears." And it just did it. And didn't care if audiences said silly, shallow things like "girls don't need to be rescued by a prince!!1!" Or "grown-ups don't watch cartoons lol!!"

Nowadays, though? They're so big they don't know who they are anymore. And they're so big they're scared to lose anything, or take risks. I'm sure there's a lot of political pockets involved, too. They don't dare say anything but what the loudest, most complaining members of our society tell them to say.

They're no longer trend-setters and trail-blazers. They're a monument that is whatever the loudest people tells them to be. Has to suck, when you're the company that followed Walt's "Keep moving forward" motto.

[inchidentally]

just find it super interesting that carlos didn't go out to celebrate with lando, considering how monumental of a moment this is in lando's career...

honestly as someone who has been turned off the ship itself by ppl being out of their minds and way over-crossing certain lines etc, I will gladly say that Carlos not going out w Lando wasn't intended with ill will at all and is way more to do w how the two of them have naturally grown apart over the years. it's been happening since around 2020 anyway but it was always going to happen more since their only shared interests are F1 and golf and their mutual friends only consist of Carlos' team and other F1 drivers. their relationship is the same as Lando's w Daniel and George - they'll play padel/golf and go out to dinner and travel on the same jets occasionally during the season but Lando is very much still a carefree young man early in his career while the others are well into their long term relationships and more 'serious' phases of life and career. Oscar may seem like an old settled relationship guy but he's not really - the more a lot of us catch up on his F2 and F3 stuff it's clear he likes to have fun and isn't actually allergic to going out and he literally was already friends w guys in Lando's life. and Max V is rly the only driver where Lando has a lot of mutual interests and they specifically and consistently spend time together outside the season - bc while his relationship situation seems mature, Max off duty mostly sticks to gaming and going out w friends just like Lando.

so it makes sense that the guys who went out w Lando after his win were all closer to his age/lifestyle etc and that Max arranged the whole thing. (we'll hand-wave Pierre bc Kika has helped him de-age a little lol)

like, the lasting bond Carlos and Lando will always have was formed as that big brother/little brother dynamic when Lando desperately needed someone to help him out of his shell. Carlos had just gone through the same experience w Max so he was already prepared for a nervous barely-adult anxious creature clinging to him. and as we've seen, that bond between Carlos and Max is strong as well.

but it's why ppl honestly set themselves up for bitter disappointment pretending that Carlos and Lando are remotely like what Lando is with Max F or Carlos with his closest friends. Carlos will always burst w pride over Max's achievements and Lando's achievements but they're still younger guys and their friend groups and private lives only superficially overlap with his. and like... the Sainz family do love Lando yes, but they also love and make a lot out of the publicity that carland0 brings. literally in Miami Carlos and Caco clocking the Netflix guys and making a sudden beeline right next to them for McLaren hospitality to do a "heartfelt moment" w Andrea and John aslfgaljfg) the whole Sainz wedding thing was very sweet but again, if we're acknowledging the publicity aspect of it then a massive society wedding is the perfect place for that ! again, not saying it's all fake! there is a bond there! but the bond is uh definitely made to be bigger than it is when cameras are involved.

but yea tl;dr if ppl weren't insane and carland0 wasn't the corporate sponsored publicity department approved ship then no one would've felt it was a big deal that Carlos just stuck w a hug and posted a story and nothing else. no one would be inventing crazy theories that Carlos wanted to 'be on the podium with Lando' instead of how Carlos actually said he wanted to win the race himself ! and that Lando said he only wanted Carlos on the podium so he could finally look down on him and show him how it feels !! bc they've built their careers their entire lives and these guys aren't gonna throw any of it away just for grid buddies !!

so how Carlos has reacted to Lando's win fully suits the stage of their real non PR friendship as it is now. it's what he did for Max's first WDC too. and like the last time Carlos was at a club was w Rebecca last year and it wasn't somewhere single guys like Lando go to hook up saklfgsajfgl)

and tbh it's what always makes me a bit sad bc with the ship being so over the top and everyone wanting it to be this huge immense thing it means that reality never measures up and just seems like a big disappointment. where if ppl were like oh it's so sweet that these guys have this brotherly bond and still make time to catch up! then everything would actually be more enjoyable !!!

.

.

.

(and it does crack me up that if Max looked like Carlos then it would knock carland0 completely out of existence w how much more 'content' there is between him and Lando slfgslajfgafas)

[frozenjokes]

CuteGuy Would Prefer Greatly If HotGuy Never Ever Had Any Nice Things, But Especially Not His Good Friend And Roommate Cubfan135 (1/3)

I absolutely refuse to go through an add italics to the tumblr versions of my fics but grian is so angry all of the time it was necessary in this case

next

“So let me get this straight.” Grian, well, CuteGuy stood over HotGuy, the hero’s head pinned under his own boot. It was times like these that Grian considered ditching the boots altogether; wrapping his talons around any hero’s face like this would be an absolute sight, but alas, he wasn’t trying to get painful calluses all over his feet. Grian was sure HotGuy could escape this if he wanted to; he’d just have to roll to knock Grian off, but he stayed still, staring up at Grian with those big, pathetic eyes. “You want my help with your romantic endeavors. You want to pretend fight so you can pretend win, yeah? Impress that special someone?”

Grian knew who it was, of course. Not because HotGuy announced it or because it was on the news, no, but because this certified idiot had set his sights on Cub. Cub! His roommate Cub. What could HotGuy even want from a guy like Cub- just a guy! A human, not even a conventionally attractive human, who hardly knew anything about heroes and villains other than their names! Cub, who worked a shitty job with a shitty manager, who basically did nothing but go on little walks and hang out at home- there was nothing about Cub that stood out, so why in the fuck was HotGuy so- Grian hissed, pressing a little harder on HotGuy’s head, who grunted. HotGuy didn’t get to have Cub. Cub wasn’t- HotGuy didn’t even know him! He didn’t get to take Cub- his Cub- and turn him into some kind of hero worshiper!

“Stop looking at me like that!” Grian’s anger reached its boiling point, though HotGuy didn’t flinch, looking more disappointed than anything.

To his credit, he did look away, pursing his lips, “So I take it you’re not a fan of the idea.” The infuriating amicable lilt to his voice stayed even despite his face being crushed against the pavement, and Grian wanted nothing more than to choke it out of him.

“What gave you that idea?” Grian snarled, and HotGuy shrugged.

“When you’re really pissed off you start drooling, and honestly, it’s quite gross. Are you stressed? Have you considered Xanax? Does wonders for me on bad days.”

“My insurance won’t renew my prescription and my doctor fucking sucks.”

“Ah, I feel you buddy. I mean, I basically live in a hospital, but sometimes I need some more benign stuff and it just feels like the whole system is out to get you! Don’t even get me started on before I got into the hero business, gosh. Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were far from my first choice. I asked The Goat, but he told me that would be a monumental waste of his time, Mumbo told me he wouldn’t be convincing enough and also to stop calling him he’s retired, I haven’t seen Worm Man for years but I’m still looking-“

“How many people did you ask before me?” Grian tried not to be offended, but honestly, he was very offended- HotGuy has the gall to ask favors then admit Grian wasn’t his first choice? Why not? He knew why. But why not???

“Anyone I could find, really. I mean, heroes are easy enough to track down, but a lot of them are busy and also don’t give a fuck, but villains kinda just wander around and cause problems wherever. Though, I figured if I stood here long enough you’d jump me like you did last time. Hey, by the way, if you see Poultry Man, will you tell him I’d like to talk?”

Grian seethed; he had seen HotGuy up on the apartment complex where they had fought last and assumed he was looking for Cub- was Grian really that predictable?

“The last thing Poultry Man would want to do is help you impress some guy you don’t even know- what’s the deal anyway? Don’t answer that, I don’t care.”

“Hey! I know Cub plenty! We had such a nice walk the night you broke my visor and then a lovely lunch date the next day! Well- maybe not a date. I don’t know, I never asked what he thought. I kind of don’t want to know, though. And I wasn’t going to ask Poultry Man to help me do anything, I just wanted to talk to him about all the chickens he released into the poor woman’s home- it’s not important-“

“Poor woman? She’s a fucking asshole.”

“It’s not important,” Scar strained, and Grian felt the tiniest bit vindicated, “All I meant to say is that I would feel bad beating the shit out of Poultry Man, even if it was just pretend. He’s just a misguided guy in a chicken costume.

“Misguided?” Grian’s hiss cracked into a higher pitch, “Poultry Man is EVIL. Poultry Man could CRUSH YOU. What makes you think you’re any match against him, huh? Really.”

“I mean, his costume looks a bit bulky, not great for maneuvering. I doubt he can see very well out of the mask, too. I don’t know, maybe he’s like, secretly ripped or something, but I still don’t think he could do much damage.”

“You’ll regret underestimating him when you’re taking your last breaths under his claws.”

“Oh, I hope not! I just wanted to chat about where he got those chickens, but you’re nice for standing up for him! You’re a good friend, CuteGuy.”

“I-“ Grian felt his body short circuit for a moment, everything replaced with the type of fury that can only be released by picking someone up and violently shaking them. HotGuy was perfectly polite about it, enduring Grian’s fit of rage before hanging somewhat limply in his arms, not even using his own legs to stand after Grian was done. HotGuy stared. Grian stared back.

“You’re strong.”

“Fuck you.” Grian dropped HotGuy, who just collapsed, wholly unready to support his own weight. Fine. Good. With a few strong beats of his wings, Grian took off, leaving HotGuy firmly in the dust. Flying was good and the evening breeze was good and if shaking someone annoying wasn’t enough to make them stop being annoying, then it was time to let it go. Something Grian was famously bad at.

When he looked back HotGuy was still just laying there, INFURIATINGLY, just staring at the sky! He wasn’t even looking at Grian, he was just completely zoned out-! What was his damn problem?

Grian’s boots cracked against the cement on either side of HotGuy’s waist, and HotGuy screamed, so genuinely frightened, Grian was pretty sure the noise would color his memory for the rest of his life. “Where are you meeting him?”

“What?” HotGuy squeaked, and the sound was just as beautiful.

“Where do you want me to be for your stunt?”

“I-I was going to meet Cub at the City Park-“

“Are you crazy? Are you trying to get me arrested? You’ll meet here, in the parking lot across the street at 9:00. And I don’t do play fights, but if you shoot me I’ll rip you a new one. And I want $500.”

“That’s- a lot of money-“

“You won’t miss it. You and your piece of shit rich friends spend that kind of change like it’s nothing on designer clothes and cocaine. And I want to see your sorry face when you’re forced to cough it up after I flatten your ass then steal your man.”

“You- why are you so mean to me? Hey- you are not allowed to-“ Grian didn’t let him finish, beating his wings hard enough to batter HotGuy’s face before taking off, definitively this time.

Perfect. This was going to be fun.

[calqlate]

NOVEMBER SONG

SUMMARY: Yamaguchi Tadashi always saw himself as a side character. However, there came a day whereby he did not want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be perhaps, loved — all because of a single person: you.

PAIRING: yamaguchi tadashi x gn! reader

GENRE(S): pining (one sided)

WC: 1559

NOTE(S): inspired by baek yerin's november song + dw it has a happy ending

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST (italicised blogs are unable to be tagged): @deeomi

Yamaguchi Tadashi was that boy: the awkward, quiet boy who sat in the corner of the classroom right next to the windows. He never spoke unless he was spoken to, and he only talked more than he needed to with Tsukishima. He was always seen by girls as Tsukishima's friend, the one that can be used as a channel to get close to the tall blonde. (Yamaguchi had always felt bad for them, because Tsukishima never paid them much attention in the first place.)

Yamaguchi always saw himself as a side character. If he were to appear in a fairytale, he would be the page boy appearing on page fifteen, or perhaps even the faceless gardener drawn in the background. For him, just being there was okay, as long as he was not disrupting the flow of anything. It was okay if Tsukishima was the focal point and he was the 'but'. As long as he was not a forgotten face, he was okay with it.

However, there came a day he did not want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be perhaps, loved — all because of a single person: you.

It was funny, was it not? To have lived like an extra of a major production but wanting to be noticed all of a sudden? To be the star, the protagonist, the hero? (Maybe he did not want to be the hero, per se; he just wanted to be seen as a someone for once.)

"What's wrong with you?" Tsukishima asked one day, his patented impassive, blank look still on his face, "You're happier and, I don't know... jittery, these few days."

"M-Me?" Yamaguchi stuttered, then rushed to fill in that dubious reply with a scoff, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes," the blonde sighed through his nose, "Yes, you do."

Yamaguchi did not say anything else. Arguing with his friend would not get him anywhere; Tsukishima was perpetually right all the time. Winning an argument against him would be doing the impossible. It would be akin to proving that Newton was lying when he proved that gravity exists.

So it was natural that Tsukishima was proven right once again when he caught Yamaguchi staring a tad bit too long than usual at a particular person. Tsukishima recognised them: it was [F/N] from the next-door Physics class.

"So, [F/N]?" Tsukishima said after class, a hint of mischief in his golden-brown eyes.

Yamaguchi immediately turned a few shades darker of red, wishing he could disappear into his hair or thin air, he did not mind which.

"You can't be just simply staring at them, you know," the taller male said with a little sigh, "They won't be able to notice you that way."

"I just don't want to embarrass myself," the freckled male said meekly, then added in a softer voice, "I'm just... me. There's nothing special about me."

"No, there is," Tsukishima said, "There are things about you that make you special."

There was a brief pause as Tsukishima frowned, before he elaborated, "Being caring, for instance, and being nice. Not everyone has a soft heart like you, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's jaw fell slightly, and he stared at his friend with wide eyes. Tsukishima had never really complimented him before, so this was something new and big. Monumental, even.

He smiled, "Thanks, Tsukki."

Catching a person's attention, however, proved to be difficult. He did not know how Tsukishima managed to do it, but he was surely envious of whatever the blonde had that he himself was lacking in. However, he thought of a plan that he found always proved to be successful in almost every drama his mother watched.

"[F/N]?" he said one day as he approached you, your name rolling off his lips easily yet oddly, like it was meant to be.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him, beckoning him to continue.

"I-I was wondering if you'd like to study together," he said, stuttering unintentionally at the start, to which he mentally berated and kicked himself for, "Additional Mathematics, especially. I can't quite grasp linear law." That was a lie; he was rather good at Additional Mathematics, and his best topic was linear law.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "But aren't you good in Additional Mathematics?"

He winced internally. Drat, he was caught. Time to deploy Plan B.

"I was thinking it could be more of a revision session," he said before any doubts could cross your mind, "I can't prepare with Tsukki either; he has tuition classes."

"Oh, okay," you said, shrugging your shoulders slightly, "How does Saturday afternoon sound?"

"Sounds good," he said, smiling and hoping it did not look too creepy or off-putting in any way (because God forbid he scared you off after his very first interaction with you), "We'll do that."

The revision sessions did prove to help; Yamaguchi got closer to you. Perhaps it was even a little too fast-paced than he originally thought it would be, since he clearly did not plan too far ahead when he realised a harmless little crush turned into a full-blown and slightly dangerous love. Every little accidental touch sent both of your hands jerking away from each other, every slightly prolonged glance sent both of your cheeks burning whenever they were caught, and every smile set both of your hearts pounding furiously against both of your ribcages.

"You're in love with them," Tsukishima blurted out one day during lunch, which caused Yamaguchi to choke on his rice.

"W-What?" he said as he pounded on his chest, looking at Tsukishima with wide eyes, similar to that of a fish's.

"[F/N]," Tsukishima said casually, picking a cherry tomato from his lunchbox with his chopsticks.

Yamaguchi covered his face in his hands, "Is it really that obvious?"

"Anyone would know," Tsukishima said plainly, "It's that obvious."

A pause followed as Tsukishima chewed on the cherry tomato, then, "Aren't you going to confess?"

"M-Me? Confess?" Yamaguchi stuttered as he dropped his hands to his sides, "It's not that easy, you know!"

"What century are you living in, Yamaguchi?" Tsukishima asked with a snort before closing his lunchbox, "It doesn't matter who asks the other person out. Anyway—" — The blonde paused and stared at his friend before continuing — "Don't you want to make a lasting impression on them?"

Yamaguchi bit his lower lip. He was never one to be macho or manly in any way. He was the shy and gentle guy; he would be a stammering mess with pink-tinted cheeks. However, Tsukishima had raised a valid point. It was time to "man up", like Tanaka-senpai had always said, and make the first move, like chess.

Tsukishima stood up, taking his lunchbox with him.

"Be confident," Tsukishima said, patting the dark green-haired male on the shoulder before walking off, "I know you can do it."

And so he did; he puffed his chest out and summoned every ounce of willpower he had to brave through the confession, to enunciate his words clearly without hesitation.

He expected rejection. Which person, in their right mind, would say yes?

Apparently, you were that person, which pleasantly surprised him.

He always wondered, what exactly did you see in him that made you agree? He hoped you were not just doing it out of pity, or worse, using him to get close to Tsukishima. (A lot of people liked Tsukki better than the plain old Yamaguchi anyway.)

However, you always reassured him gently, all while taking his hands, that you did it because you reciprocated his feelings. You were not lying to him in any way, neither did your actions have any underlying meaning. You were willing to be together with him, to be his other half, to be the one supporting him at one hundred percent.

Whenever he felt down, whenever he felt useless, whenever he felt like the world was against him for some unknown and odd reason, you were always there to give a hug, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, and that you were physical proof that you were there and would not be going anywhere. It was during times like these that Yamaguchi knew for sure that this love was meant to be his and it was uniquely his, that a bond like this would never come again in his entire lifetime.

Even if this love was broken, trampled on, and tested, it would never fade. Both of you would always come back together, like unlike poles, the right puzzle pieces filling in the gaps.

Maybe this love was not romantic according to society's standards, but that was okay. It was the bond and overwhelming feelings that words could not describe make this love special, one that cannot be recreated.

He hoped he could be the one for you, too: the shoulder you could cry on, the first person you would share good news with, the Mr. Right in your happily ever after. That future was close in reach, but he did not know that. For now, he was content with the way he lived with you, and that was perfectly fine.

As long as the two of you were connected, like two single lines diverged together into one, everything will be fine.

[sillybigbird]

It's Mexico's independence day so heres some facts I know, but you can tell my favorite subject and the only one i could really pay attention in elementary school was History

Independence battle was started in 1810 (15-16 of september) and ended in 1821 (September 27th)

The revolution also started in a 10, 1910. (This was a revolution against the dictador Porfirio Diaz)

In 2010 the goverment make so many conmemorative events for it since it was 200 years from the independence and 100 of the revolution i even have a bill of that year

We find funny the stereotypical characterizations of the Mexicans. We are actually proud and glad of the interest.

We almost got governed by a French man, in fact, a lot of historians think we would be better if he made it to the power (he was executed after the French invasion)

The 5 of may conmemors the victory of the Puebla's forces against the French army (it was literally pure peasants with machete against French troops, it was a huge win even if we lost the thing after that lmao)

Where I live theres a huge seasonal fair that the goverment puts bc here was the main battle. The fair is next to the forts of the battle, and its crazy expensive so It's been years since i visited it)

Mexico City is actually constructed over a huge lake, where in the prehispanic times Tenochtitlan used to be. Tenochtitlan was full of man-made islands that held pyramids, villages, plantations. It was huge genius. The civilization settled there was the Mexicas (me-shi-cas) or better known as Aztecs. But with colonialism (1521) arrived and they literally burried all of that, the lake is still there and México city sinks over 3 cm per year.

Colonialism lasted over 3 centuries.

We actually have royalty: when we first were freed, the democracy wasn't implanted over the first couple of years as a free country. We had like 3 emperor until a new constitution was made and we were able to vote for our presidents. The last descendants of the last emperor are alive and residing in europe

Our famous president is Benito Juarez a peasant who scaalled until president, was built like a penguin and his most famous phrase is "Respeto al derecho ajeno es la paz" (Respect for the rights of others is peace). It's an inspiration for a lot of attorneys here. During his presidence the country's capital changed over 5 times because he was the one who had to held the French invasion.

Women vote its legal since 1952

Our presidencys lasts over 6 years.

We're going to have a new constitution soon and we're all fucking scared

We have an inside joke that in the north states the people dates their cousins (sweet home alabama Monterrey)

We all hate Santana (The guy who sold half of our contry)

The main religion practiced here its not catholicism. Its "Guadalupanism". Because theres a myth of an appearing of a Mary Virgin in (also) México city. 12 of december is another huge date bc of that. This religion is practiced over the 60% of the population (according to inegi)

In september 13th (also by the time of the French invasion) there was a confrontation Mexicans vs Frenchs in the Chapultepec Castle (Home of next to be French-mexican emperor) where the French tried to take over, but they were running so low in forces they needed help of the military academy with spldiers between the 12 and 19 years old. The history books said that was 6 kids that leaded and defended the castle, all dying in battle in such heroic ways (one of them involved himself in the flag and jumped of a rooftop to land over a French troop). There's a monument where their tombs are supposed to be. But this was recently discovered to be a myth and there's not actual historical evidence of this event. They were called "Niños heroes" (Hero kids)

For most of us, independence day is just an excuse to drink alcohol, eat a lot of typical food (I love my Dad's pozole. I LIVE FOR MY DAD'S POZOLE) and commit Arson.

My Dad makes such a delicious traditional Pozole.

Did I mention that i love my Dad's pozole?

My favorite food of here is cochinita pibil (traditional dish from Yucatan). And my favorite pastry is napolitan Flan, and impossible cake (a variant of Flan but with chocolate cake), my Dad recently taught me how to do Flan. I stand for Hibiscus Water bc im lactose intolerant and i cant drink horchata. My favorite candies are Santa Clara's Cookies and camotes (both typical from my region).

I like parties, how are made here. They're so fun.

My country is going to the shit and I'm so fucking scared

[ageofnations]

After Party // sfk

Summary: A night of celebration for the band.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff, a smidge of pda

A/N: just a short feel-good piece to get back into the swing of things. i loved writing this, so i hope you all enjoy.

You hated not being there for him. 

Of course, you would have showed up if you could have, but this event was fairly strict about who they had in attendance. They only allowed nominees to bring their spouses, and refused to make an exception for you. 

Just like you had refused to agree to Sam’s suggestion of eloping, just to appease the event’s organizers.

But seeing him now, you almost wished you would have given in to his request, if only to be beside him.

Up to this point, it seemed as if he had always been the album’s number-one advocate. Upon its release, there was a constant flow of press requests. Articles that needed to be written, phone calls to be had, and interviews to be conducted. No matter the format, Sam was usually the one to accept, and he always had the best things to say about Starcatcher. 

He was obviously very proud of the album. There were undertones of confidence in each answer he gave on the band’s behalf, every single time. He knew that he and his brothers had created something monumental.

It was like all of that confidence was snuffed by a sense of uncertainty, now. 

As the camera panned to him, sitting beside his brothers, you noticed his leg was bouncing. Hands flat on his knees, but his fingers fidgeting with the seam of his pants. He was nervous, and so was everyone he was close to. 

The family and friends of the band had arranged an “after party” of sorts, something small and private to celebrate the boys and their achievements through the years. Even if they didn’t win this Grammy, everyone wanted them to feel proud of how far they’ve come. 

So you all crowded in a restaurant a few blocks from the event’s venue, waiting patiently for them to arrive after the fact. For now, you all watched the fuzzy TV screens placed around the restaurant, and waited for the results of the night. 

They had some tough competition. Metallica, Foo Fighters,... all big names in the world of rock music. But as the presenters began to open the envelope in their hands, you had a feeling… something deep inside you telling you that they had a chance. 

You just wished you could share an inkling of that feeling with your golden boy on the screen. 

Before the announcers could finish pronouncing the band’s name, the mothers of the boys were the first to exclaim their celebrations. They immediately embraced each other in a tight hug, and you could only chuckle watching them share the moment of joy. Everyone cheered loudly with one another, and for a moment, you hoped that those four guys could hear the sound over everything else. 

–

The establishment was bustling with energy and excitement. So much so, that you were satisfied to stick to the back of the restaurant, watching everyone from afar while snacking on the appetizers ordered for the party. You gave everyone their space, knowing that once the boys arrived, their immediate families were to be the first to greet them. They’d find you eventually. 

And so they did.

Danny was the first to be able to break away from everyone else, rushing over to you as soon as he was able to. The hug was immediate, and you honestly didn’t remember standing up to do so. 

“I’m so proud of you guys, Dan,” you were able to wheeze as his arms locked around you tightly. 

You could feel his smile widen, as if he were still a bit speechless. His embrace tightened slightly for a moment, and while it felt good to be close to him again, you wished it was someone else hugging you this tightly.

The huff of a laugh that he let out could be felt against your neck before he spoke. “He’s been looking for you.”

Pulling away slightly, you raised an eyebrow at Danny, not understanding what he meant. “What?”

“Sam,” he answered with a smile. “I think he fully believed that you’d find some way to sneak into that venue. He took at least seven ‘bathroom breaks’ to wander around and try to find you.”

At first, you scoffed. But you couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the image of him walking through the empty halls and checking every exit to see if you had come. “He knew that that’s impossible-”

“I know, I know.” Danny nodded, smiling down at you. His voice was soft, his expression unreadable. “He just really wished you could’ve been there.”

“Me too…” you agreed, right before the drummer decided to hug you again, thanking you for all of your support. Over his shoulder, you could see your boyfriend still talking with his family, his joy obvious. As much as you wanted to go over to him, you also enjoyed watching him from across the room. You let yourself admire him for a moment, finding contentment with seeing him so happy.

You engaged in conversation with Danny once he pulled away, receiving the “behind-the-scenes” version of the night. You heard all about the nerves, the jokes cracked, predictions made. You even heard about how each of them voted for Jake to give the acceptance speech, despite him being the most soft-spoken of the group. The exchange was only interrupted by a few people wanting to greet and shake hands with Danny. Until you heard a more familiar voice come up from behind him.

He almost seemed nervous as he spoke over the chatter in the restaurant. “Hey, Daniel. Have you seen-?” 

He stopped mid-sentence when Danny had turned around to face Sammy, now seeing you looking right back at him. It was like every muscle in his face softened at the sight of you, tension rolling away from him the moment he knew you were there. And as his form of greeting you, he pushed past his best friend and hugged you tightly. 

“You did it, Sam,” you murmured against him, breathing in his scent. “I’m proud of you.”

He only pulled away enough to pepper your face with kisses, knowing it would lead to a fit of giggles from you. Also knowing he had been longing to hear your laughter again for far too long.

One last kiss to your cheek before he paused to look at you with wonder, eyes scanning your face as if it were the first time he had ever seen you. “I missed you.”

“I know… I missed you, too,” you responded, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“This is exactly why we should’ve eloped,” he teased. Although it had started as a joke, you knew that he wouldn’t have minded the idea at all, if that’s what you wanted. Still, you rolled your eyes at the suggestion before he continued. “It’s not like we don’t still have time. Or… we could start planning an actual wedding.”

A shrug and smirk are all you can manage before closing the space between you again, sighing against his lips. “We’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @weightofdreamz @gretavancreep @joshkiszkas @streamsofstardust @gretavanflipflop @stardustingold @tripthelight-fanfic @gmolszewski @the-chaotic-cow @hippievanfleet @doodle417 @gretavanfleas @myownparadise96 @jakeyboiiiiiii @jakeydoesit @fan-girl-97 @welightthefire @maedesculpaeusoubi @josiee-gvf @brokenbellz @sammysvanfeet @streamingcolors-gvf @groggyvanfleet @sammyslappers @agirlwithmanytastes @teddiie @gretavansteph @sammiejane22 @gvfvanfleet @gretavanbitches @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature @gardensgatedaisy @andromeda-raine-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @gretasimp @wingedgardener2000 @sc203

[mazzystar24]

So next episode, we have eddie, buck, Tommy and marisol at the restaurant. So who Is looking after Christopher? All of Eddie's baby-sitters are there!

But jokes aside this is wild like literaly the episode ended with bi buck reveal and straight away (bad pun I'm sorry) we have the promo that starts with Eddie high jacking the date. Like this has been approuve by the team not just PR like it has to have been approved. And if they didn't want buddie they wouldn't do it like that, heck if they didn't want buddie the bi reveal would not have included eddie and we definitely wouldn't have eddie interrupt the date (I know it's been said before but that is fanfiction territory and just wild!). I'm repeating all the points that shows that they aren't against buddie and that shows that we have a line following them in this journey and all the interviews and all cause im terrified they'll just not make buddie canon and only have eddie being BFF ally eddie but it would be cruel of them to taunt us like that and leave us hanging cause that is a lot like never seen before in any other show a lot!

Fr - this is how Chris is at a sleepover can still win🤭🤭

I love bad puns 🫡

Yesss totally like they’re having the very major moments (and whole storyline in 7x04) be VERY heavy in the Eddie involvement and that’s supposed to be subtle? Nooo they KNOW what they’re doing 10000%

I highly HIGHLY doubt they’d pull the straight best friend thing with Eddie and buck because they KNOW how committed the fandom has been

I totally agree they are DEFINITELY not against buddie (as you said in all the interviews things are looking really good for us) and if I’m 100% honest I do think they’re only being vague still to try to keep us guessing

Like I mentioned this before 7x04 aired but buck and Tommy kissing could make buddie becoming canon less of a shock to the fans so I think that while they kinda needed to do it that way to better communicate to the new audience and GA, sorta to set the scene, they’re kinda now trying to still maintain as much build up and shock for when they do make buddie canon if you get what I mean?

Also that last point of yours EXACTLY like buddie would be monumental, like I don’t think I can name a single queer ship like it and we are SO close

Also yes the fanfic territory is WILD Tim minear tell us your ao3 account 🕵️‍♀️🕵️‍♀️🕵️‍♀️

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

British GP 2024!

Mads' Race Recap!

Ok so this is a bit of a different race recap, since I was there at Silverstone this weekend and I got to watch the pretty cars and handsome boys go vroom vroom! So there are definitely things that I will have missed as they weren't show on the screens or it didn't happen right in front of me, so bear with.

Just want to also say what a brilliant weekend I had. It was truly awesome to see my literal hero (Chazzles Leclezzles) in the flesh and get to see him screw around with Carlitos all weekend. Watching the football with George and Lewis was also epic. Such a fucking cool weekend, I can't even describe it. I would post videos, but they all have me screaming in the back or giggling uncontrollably.

Red Bull - Right, if you had told me that this time last year, I would be cheering for Max Verstappen, I would call you a fucking dipshit. BUT NO. There I was, sat on a wall, screaming for Max to overtake Lando... look, it's all for Charles' points, OK? I want that P2 in the championship and I think it is the least that that man deserves, but we'll get there in a few. Anyway, how Max was faster than the fastest car on the grid on softs on the hard tyres himself is unreal and henceforth why he deserved that P2 more than Lando. And it was Lando's call to go for the softs so there is no one to blame but himself. Again, not who I'm meant to be talking about but I digress. Checo needs firing, OK? Just get rid of the man. This is the 47932874 week in a row that he has faffed it up. We're at a point where both Ferraris, both Mercs and a McLaren have won races, but not both Red Bulls? This guys seriously needs to step up or step out. Even with Charles' monumental fuck up (that was not his fault in the slightest), he STILL finished 17th. The only one behind him was ZHOU IN HIS FUCKING WHEELIE BIN ARE YOU KIDDING ME CHECO-

Ferrari - I went for Charlos, and Charlos is what I got. But they fucked Charles over so goddamn badly I cannot even describe to you how mad I was. I literally yelled 'the fuck are you doing it's sunny!'. There weren't any clouds incoming, they were a solid 4 minutes away. They tried to be clever and bring him in before everyone else, but they instead completely ruined his race and finished off an already shitty weekend for the poor guy. What else does he have to do? He has proven that he has the ability time and time and time again and they give him absolute bullshit like this and I have fucking had it. Charles is a world champion, but he's not going to be unless they get their shit together and start using more than a single brain cell between them. He had a great start, nice overtake on Lance, and then he got absolutely screwed. The amount of anger I felt was unparallelled. If I was him, I would've retired the car and quit right then and there. But he carried on like he always does, and gave it his all as usual. I adore him, it was so so so cool to see him drive, even if it didn't pan out how we all wanted. Also, Matt from FP1 (got to see them live, it was great) said he thinks Charles sold his soul to the devil for the Monaco win, and I agree. Meanwhile, on the other side of the garage, Carlos was doing pretty well. Qualis were disappointing, but not too bad overall. There was no point in trying to scrap Oscar, Oscar was a lot quicker. I would've liked the P4, but my boy got fastest lap so I will take that. Can I just say this man looked so done during the drivers parade like... he didn't want to be there. Anyway, I went all dressed in Forza Ferrari colours, might not have been the race we wanted for them, but I got to see Carlos in the Ferrari for the first and last time, so I won't complain. Forza Ferrari. Forza Charlos.

McLaren - Oscar could've 100% had a shot at winning that race if they hadn't pulled him in too late for inters. That's just how it was. He drove great just as he always does, if they had brought him in earlier, he definitely could've won. Lando came P3 on his own accord, he could've won. There were so many people with Lando merch on and I was like no people no. People were feral for this man. Everyone else had to sit on the same truck for the drivers parade, but he got to go around on his own little McLaren. Was pretty sick though I can't lie.

Mercedes - LEWIS HAMILTON OH MY GOD I GOT TO SEE HIM WIN AND I GOT TO SEE IT LIVE AND WE ALL CHEERED AND WE WATCHED THE FOOTBALL WITH HIM AND WE SAW HIM CRY AND ONTOP OF THE PODUM AND EVERYTHING IT WAS SO SO SO SO SO SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What a drive from Lewis, seriously. He did so well, so happy, loved hearing the anthem twice in a day. On the complete other hand, I could have sobbed for George. I nearly did sob for George. I saw him go into the pits and we all thought that he was pitting really early, but then his name dropped and he was out of the race. I was gutted for the man, seriously. Him getting pole was so cool but then he was out, just like that. I was so devastated, we all were. Thank you Lewis, for such an emotional win on home soil in front of the people that adore you the most. And thank you George for giving us all hope and being an absolute comedic genius.

Aston Martin - Got to see their HQ opposite the circuit, that was really cool. They did a lot better this week, which was nice to see. Finally a top 10 finish, but didn't see much of them this weekend.

VCARB/RB/REDBULLSHITTYEDITION - Again, didn't see much of these two over the course of the weekend. Yuki got points though! So that's always a nice little thing for him.

Haas - NICO HULKENBERG WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS WEEKEND JESUS LORD. When he got a fastest time in... Q2 I think, everyone around us went 'what?' with a collective gasp of surprise. He overtook Lance and absolutely slayed, came out with 8 points, I was so happy. And I was just glad to see Kevin icl I have become a big KMAG fan as of recent and I love him. I want Kevin merch. I've decided I want Kevin merch.

Alpine - What a shit show. Got to see Pierre spin out right in front of me in FP3, so that was one of the best parts of my weekend. Then he just never came out. We were counting Alpines and only ever saw Estie so that was that. Estie did what he could have bless him.

Williams - They did well this weekend I can't even pretend like they didn't. Logan was close to points, Alex got some points, they did wonderful.

Kick Sauber - Zhou got into Q2, what a slay, great job. VALTTERI FINISHED IN FRONT OF A RED BULL LET'S GO JAMES IT'S VALTTERI AAKSDLASKDJASLDKJA