#i didn't come into this thinking i would win but!! i'm glad to lose to copper king instead of like. a band that IN MY PERSONAL OPINION

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

flowers 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Summary: y/n gets flowers for lando after every podium and win he's had in 2024.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ln x reader ִ ࣪𖤐

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ fluff ִ ࣪𖤐

masterlist ☾☼

"what's your favourite flower?"

"hm?"

"what's your favourite flower?"

"don't have one,"

"why not?"

"never got any flowers,"

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

australia p3 - daffodils [new beginnings]

the start of the season was decent, according to lando. getting his first podium of the season was good. he was proud of it, of course he was. and to celebrate with one of his closest friends on the top step was even more special.

the car was getting better, but he knew there was a lot more still left to do. his mechanics had told him, had explained to him that it's difficult, and it's all theoretical. lando understood that. it wasn't necessary that the car that would be faster in theory would work practically as well. but, lando tried his best to give as much feedback as he could.

he was sticky with champagne, and after all the media duties and celebrations, he just wanted to escape. he wanted to escape to his driver room, and call his girlfriend and maybe his mum as well.

"good race, man," one of his mechanics congratulated him as he walked to his driver's room.

"thanks, mate," lando responded, smiling, and clapping his hand against the others in a bro handshake thing.

it didn't have a name.

finally reaching his driver room, lando opened the door and stopped short.

on the table in the corner had a bouquet of flowers. flowers he had never seen before in person. flowers he hadn't ordered, and knew jon wouldn't order for him.

slowly, he walked closer to the bouquet, and picked up the card hidden in the flowers.

"for your first podium of 2024, it's a new beginning. i love you. y/n <3"

lando smiled, a bright, shining smile. he'd just received flowers. for possibly the first time ever. immediately finding his phone, he video called his girlfriend.

"hi, baby! congratulations!" she said immediately as she answered the call.

"thank you for the flowers, my love," lando said softly, still admiring the flowers.

"they're daffodils! do you like them?"

"they're absolutely beautiful,"

she smiled, and it filled lando with a warm feeling. "i'm glad,"

lando sat on the little bench, craddling the bouquet against his chest like it was the podium trophy, and the two lost themselves in conversations and laughter and love.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

china p2 - iris [hope]

his second podium of the season. lando wasn't feeling particularly confident. with himself or the car. he knew that there was still a long way to go. the car felt a little alive, but nearly not enough for winning races.

he finished almost 14 seconds behind max, and that didn't make him feel very good from the team perspective. sure, it was important points he got for the wcc, but again, not nearly enough especially with checo coming in third, five or seconds behind him.

lando hoped that he could get mclaren in top 3 again at the very least, but he was already losing hope, and the season had just begun.

trudging back to his drivers room, lando opened the door, entering and quickly shutting it behind him. he needed some time to think, some time to himself.

as he sat down on the little bench thing, he noticed something purple and fragile peeking from his packed bag. he didn't have the energy to move, really. but something about it forced him to move.

slowly unzipping the bag, he pulled out the flowers. irises. he knew these. how? he didn't know.

his face broke into a smile again. taking the card attached, he read, "p2, baby! lfg! don't lose hope. your time will come! i love you. y/n <3"

he quickly snapped a picture, and sent it to his sleeping girlfriend, thanking her, and telling her that he would call her first thing once she was awake.

a knock on the door told him that it was time to leave, to go back to the hotel to pack, before their flight. zipping his bag up again, but keeping the flowers in his hand, lando picked up his stuff, and exited the room, still delicately holding the irises.

his beautiful, hopeful irises.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

miami p1 - lilac [first love]

oh, lando wished this feeling would never go away. it was a mix of relief and feeling proud of himself.

he was sticky with champagne, but for once, he didn't care, because, fuck, he was a race winner. he was a fucking race winner.

seven years he'd been with mclaren, and five years driving. his sixth year, he'd finally won. fucking finally won a race.

he couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop laughing, he was so happy. so fucking happy. he was proud of himself, and he was so thankful for everyone who had stuck by him throughout his career, before f1 and during.

the celebrations were long, as they should be. his team was so happy for him, he'd spoken to his family on call in a few quiet moments, and he'd had max on a video call for most part of the celebration, desperately wishing he was there as well. aarav, niran, ria were there, but honestly, they weren't max. no one could ever be max.

this was also the race that his girlfriend had attended. he'd wanted her there, told her specifically to fly out because he had a good feeling in his gut.

and what a good feeling it was.

throughout the celebrations, lando kept her somewhere in his line of sight, needing to make sure that she was comfortable. someone had gotten her a bottle of champagne too, and every time the team sprayed him with it, she joined in on the fun, laughing with him and his team.

later, both of them sticky and smelling of champagne, they walked back to his driver room. his arm was across her shoulder, and hers was wrapped around his waist.

as soon as he opened the door, his eyes widened, "oh my god,"

y/n was looking at his expectantly, biting her lip to gauge his reaction. he slowly removed his arm from her shoulder as he walked in the two steps of space the room had left.

"oh my fucking god," he muttered, still taking it all in.

"do you like it?" she whispered.

the room was full of bouquets of lilacs, each one bright and blooming. there wasn't much space left in the room, but god, it looked so beautiful.

lando immediately turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist as he buried his head in her neck and picked her up. "i love it so much,"

her fingers were in his curls as she said, "they're lilacs. to remind you of your first love: racing."

lando pulled back from the hug, settling her down, "thank you so much. i love it. i love you. fuck, i love you," grabbing her face in his hands, he kissed her, long and slow, wanting to cherish the moment.

later on, when the two of them had changed, they slowly picked up all the bouquets, and lando handed out three stems to each of his mechanics and his engineers, and anyone who was in lando norris' team, and then gave two stems each to the rest of them. he gave four to zak, and the man had laughed and wrapped lando in another hug.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

emilia-romagna p2 - gladiolus [believing in yourself]

he was so close. fuck, he was so goddamn close to winning again. 0.752 seconds behind, he was so close.

he was happy for max v, of course he was. he was happy with p2 as well. there was no doubt in that. but, when p1 was so close, and lando knows he could've pushed just a little harder, it does settle a sense of disappointment in his gut.

with a p2 and a p4, it was a lot of points for mclaren, and as much as that excited lando, he was also afraid. he wasn't sure if he could really continue to keep performing so well, or as well as he wanted to. he wanted to go out and win, and he wanted to make his team proud, but fuck, was he good enough for it? would he ever be good enough for it?

his head was swimming with self-doubt, and it was slowly overshadowing his happiness of p2. it was annoying, and he was frustrated. he wanted to be happy about the podium, and the points, and all of that. he so desperately wanted to. but the questions, the what ifs just never stopped in his head.

opening the door to his driver room, he stopped. slowly he remembered. the flowers. his girlfriend. there was a bouquet of flowers he didn't know kept neatly in a vase. he assumed jon had done that.

removing his race suit, and quickly changing into fresher clothes, he picked up the bouquet, finding the note attached, "these are gladiolus. they're a reminder that you need to believe in your yourself. i love you. y/n <3"

lando laughed. how his girlfriend knew what was going on in his brain, he didn't know, but he was forever grateful that she was some sort of mind reader.

quickly snapping a picture and sending it to her, he hugged the flowers against his chest, wishing that she was there to hug him.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

canada p2 - poppy [strength]

lando walked into his driving room with his back still heavy from the intense race he had. the rain made it a battle to stay on the track; the visibility wasn't good, and the grip could be anywhere; the race felt like having a war with nature. still, he held steady enough to finish in p2, an impressive result if he said so himself.

as he shut the door, his eyes alighted on something that immediately threw a smile to his face. on the little table in the middle of the room was an exquisite bouquet of red poppies. the striking flowers stood out starkly against the antiseptic ambiance of the room, their radiant petals glowing brightly under the subdued lighting. alongside them rested a note.

lando stepped closer, picking up the card, and his heart gave a slight lurch when he saw her familiar handwriting.

"for your strength, my love. you showed it today, just like I know you always will. i'm so proud of you. you've got this, no matter what the track throws at you. i love you. y/n <3"

he let the words sink in, the weight of the race lightening for a moment as the warmth of her support surrounded him. the poppy—symbolizing strength, resilience, and overcoming adversity—was the perfect gesture for a race like this. the rain-soaked chaos of canada had tested him, yet here he was, with a podium finish in his grasp.

lando swept a hand back through his drenched hair, letting out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back into the wall. it wasn't just the soggy track, or the keen competition that had made the race so hard today—it was always the pressure; the little things that crept in with each lap. yet now, his hands wrapped about the bouquet before him, with her words going round in his head, gave him a deep quiet strength.

he placed the flowers gently on the windowsill, then took a minute to absorb the comfort in that gesture. she wasn't there, but somehow in that little room, she was. she was with him and reminded him of when he would go through some really tough days; he would know he was capable of holding it together.

the poppies, resplendent even in the rain, were the perfect symbol of how far he'd come—and how far he would still go.

"thanks, lovie," he whispered to the empty room, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared out the window at the distant lights of the circuit.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

spain p2 - orchids [remain positive]

p2 in spain. what a wonderful day. and he had managed to get the fastest lap. that, he liked the most for some reason.

he was desperate for another win. well, actually, no. he wasn't desperate for it. he wanted to win, yes, and he knew that he would have to be patient for it, and work on it himself.

the bottom line was, he wanted to win.

he trusted the car, and he trusted his team. he would get opportunities in the future, and he will be able to win, he knows that. somewhere in his brain, he knows that.

yet, sometimes, there's a little crack in that knowing. that little fear of the unknown, that what if he doesn't win again till next season? or the season after that?

no. no. that wasn't true. lando was a good driver. he was adapting to being in a fast car, but he was a good driver, and he would get another win soon. yes. that's what he needed to believe, that's what he needed to tell himself over and over again.

jon did a good job of reminding him of that too. he somehow always knew when lando's thoughts were beginning to spiral, and pulled him out before it happened. thank god for jon, really.

when he stepped off the podium, his trophy in hand, jon stood there with a bouquet of orchids. lando smiled instantly, despite the exhaustion.

lando handed the trophy to jon, and took the bouquet from him, as he was escorted to the conference room for the interviews.

he stared at his flowers, as the interview began.

"we wanted to start with max, but lando, you've captured our attention," ted kravitz started.

lando immediately looked up. "huh?"

"we see you've got some flowers. any idea who they're from or is it a secret admirer?"

lando laughed, "no, they're from my girlfriend. she gets me flowers for every podium i get,"

"kelly's never got me flowers," max added from beside him.

"yeah? she's got to step up her game, mate," lando joked.

"definitely, man. kelly, if you're watching this, i want flowers,"

the room laughed.

"they're orchids, aren't they?" lewis asked.

lando nodded, "yeah. my girlfriend said it's so that i remain positive because there's a lot more races to come,"

"that's sweet, man," lewis said, as he leaned back.

lando bit his lip, as he nodded. cause, yeah. that is sweet. his girlfriend is sweet.

"anything you want to say to your girlfriend, lando? while we're here," ted asked.

"um, just wanna thank her, really. i get more excited about the flowers now, than the trophy,"

the crowd laughed again, and the interviews shifted to max.

lando continued to stare at his orchids.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

silverstone p3 - periwinkle [home]

it was his home race. he wanted to do well in his home race. and he did. p3 was not bad. he was proud of himself, and a little disappointed for not winning, but he was much happier for lewis.

lewis had driven amazingly, and despite the fact that he was lando's competitor, lando couldn't help but applaud for him.

at the parc ferme, he met with his team, hugging them, and then hugged his girlfriend for a little longer. she had pressed a kiss to his helmet, and he winked at her.

max and he were talking when lewis came, and the two immediately congratulated the brit on his drive. lewis looked like he was about to cry, and lando wondered if he would ever feel like that, that emotion of winning at a home race.

after the podium celebrations, lando went for media duties, feeling sticky and in a desperate need of a shower. when he returned, he quickly found his girlfriend, giving her a little kiss, before promising her to be back in a few.

opening the door to his driver's room, he smiled at the bouquet kept beside his trophy. picking them up, he smiled at the periwinkles.

"periwinkles for your home race," y/n's voice was heard from behind him, and he turned around to see her leaning against the door frame.

he smiled, walking towards her, as he wrapped her in a loose hug, and said, "home is where you are, baby,"

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

hungary p2 - lotus [righteousness]

the team had fucked him over. the team had fucked him over so bad.

he didn't blame oscar. it wasn't oscar's fault. their strategy had been wrong, and they made a mistake. he was angry. he was angry at will for putting him in a position where either options felt wrong and right at the same time. he would never burst out on will, of course, and he knew he needed to control himself, but fuck fuck fuck, his team had fucked up.

lando reminded himself that he was the older driver now, the veteran. that meant it was upto him to make sure that oscar knew that the two of them were okay. and he did just that. he told oscar, showed him that there was no bad blood between the two of them, and lando wasn't mad at him.

he knew he was going to have to talk to andrea about the team orders later, but the exhaustion of the race was settling on his shoulders and he didn't want to do anything except go back home and cuddle with y/n.

that would fix everything.

after the celebrations, and the interviews, all lando wanted to do was go back to the hotel room and call y/n or max, and just rant. but, as soon as he walked in, a sort of disappointment added to the weight of his feelings already.

there was no bouquet. he'd gotten a podium. wasn't that the pattern that y/n was following? every time he got on the podium, she sent him flowers, right?

but, this time, there was nothing but one lone flower that wasn't even blooming. a deep hurt settled in his gut as he realised that maybe even his girlfriend was mad at him about the race and the way he responded with not giving oscar the position back immediately.

that somehow felt worse than the hate comments he'd been receiving on social media.

picking up the flower, he turned the card attached to it and read, "a lotus to represent the righteousness you showed on track. you did the right thing. i'm proud of you. would have been proud of you, regardless. i love you. y/n <3"

lando breathed a little easier. he let himself smile a little. she was proud of him. she thought he did the right thing. she was on his side.

how silly of him to think otherwise.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

netherlands p1 - amaryllis [to sparkle]

he did it. he did it again. yes, he lost the lead, but he got it back, and he created a 22 second gap, and he won. again.

finally.

he was happy, of course he was. though, what excited him more were the inevitable bouquet of flowers that would be in his drivers room. he couldn't wait to see what his girlfriend had chosen this time.

the trophy was huge, and it was heavy, but it was easily his favourite. the words written were all things he could relate to, and he was sure that every other driver could relate to it as well. it made him happy that there was someone out there, recognising the things they went through as sportsmen, or as a sportsperson.

excitedly, after the team celebrations, he ran to his drivers room, finding it full of flowers again, and he couldn't help but smile bigger than he already was.

it was just like miami, but this time, his girlfriend wasn't there with him. god, he missed her.

he video called her while he looked for the note, and just as he found it, her face filled his screen.

"lan!" she exclaimed, "you were so goddamn good! i'm so proud of you!"

"thank you, my lovie. hold on, i gotta read the card,"

"did you just get to the drivers room?"

lando nodded, as he flipped open the card.

it said, "hot damn, you were shining out there. some amaryllis for you to keep sparkling. i love you. y/n <3"

"y'know, this is my favourite part of getting on podiums now," lando said, as he pocketed the note.

"what? getting the flowers?" y/n joked.

"yes. getting the flowers from you." lando stared at her face on the screen, wishing he could kiss her in that moment.

"you're just saying that,"

"i'm really not," he settled on the floor, exhausted from the race, but he had a new found energy as he talked with his girlfriend. she was too excited to contain her reactions or yapping, and lando loved her more than anything to listen to every bit of it.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

italy p3 - lavender [calmness]

he didn't know what to feel. he was feeling a lot of things at the same time, and he didn't know which one to focus on first.

on one hand, he didn't blame oscar for wanting to prove himself to the world. he knew what it was like to enter the world of formula one with expectations on your shoulders that had no real reason being there. he knew that some of the fan comments had gotten to oscar, about how hungary was a gifted win and not earned on his own merit. he understood, really.

but that didn't mean that he was okay with the move he pulled on lando going into turn one. he had gotten way too close to lando's car, and if lando hadn't backed out even a little bit, the two would've crashed.

there was a championship fight on his shoulders, one that he didn't expect and didn't want. while he didn't want to win by his teammate letting him pass, he also did not expect his own teammate to pull a risky move like that.

the plan was a 1-2. they got a 2-3. it was a lot of points, but nearly not as much a 1-2 would have been.

really, lando would have been okay with only oscar had overtaken him. he would have been fine with that. what he wasn't okay with, was the fact that the move led to their competitor also overtaking them both.

that pissed him off a little bit.

he remained respectful in all the post race interviews, he praised his teammate, he did what was expected of him. he always did.

later, when he had a moment to himself in the drivers room, a knock interrupted him, and lando almost told the person to go away. he didn't want to deal with humans right now.

"lando? got something for you here," jon's voice rang.

sighing, lando stood up and opened the door. jon stood at the door, with a bouquet of lavenders in his hand.

"this got delivered for you. the delivery guy said that there was too much traffic on the way, so he couldn't get it on time, but here," jon gave the bouquet to lando before walking off.

lando stared at the flowers, as he closed the door and went back to his seat.

finding the folded note, it said, "lavenders for how calm you've been about it. good thing i wasn't there. i love oscar, i love you more. y/n <3"

lando smiled, and felt a little better. maybe a little more than just a little.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

singapore p1 - orange lilies [confidence]

lando was dizzy. singapore was always a difficult race physically, but it was always so fulfilling.

he led all 62 laps, created a 20 second gap. yes, he made some mistakes at a few places, but he was learning. lando was learning and he was proud of himself. he was so fucking proud of himself.

lando was thankful that max was here to watch him race. he needed that support. unfortunately, y/n couldn't be there, and as much as she tried to change her schedule to fit the race weekend, it just didn't work.

nevertheless, he'd spoken to her as soon as he got off the top step with his trophy in hand. how could he not?

later, when he found max, he laughed upon seeing his best friend. max fewtrell stood there with a bouquet of orange lilies in his hands, looking annoyed and endeared.

"mate, someone got me flowers but i have no idea who! pietra said it wasn't her!" max said, as soon as lando was close enough.

lando laughed, feeling a little bad as he was about break his best friend's heart, "max, they're not for you,"

"yes, they are! a random dude found me, asked if i was max fewtrell, and i said, yes, and he handed me this and walked off!"

"right. i love you, man, but did you see if there was a note by chance?"

max paused, before he checked the bouquet and found a folded note hidden.

lando wanted to tell him to hand it over. he didn't want anyone else to read what y/n had written for him, but he also knew that max wouldn't believe him unless he saw it with his own eyes.

"orange lilies because my god, you were so confident on track, im gonna jump you as soon as youre back. i love you. y/n." max read.

the two men paused, lando trying not to laugh as max stared at nothing for a few seconds.

and then, he pushed the bouquet against lando's chest and said, "i think these might be for you."

lando burst out laughing, as he accepted the bouquet.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

mexico p2 - yellow roses [friendship]

lando was so proud of carlos. his heart was bursting from the happiness he had for his friend.

it had been a shock at the start of the year when his friends had told him that carlos was no longer signed with ferrari. he hadn't been expecting it.

now, though, watching his friend win for what might be the last time for a while, because even though carlos fucking sainz is going to williams, their car isn't going to magically be one of the best next season. it's going to take time. but, williams now has carlos fucking sainz, so it might just happen sooner than they think.

the plan was that in the evening, the sainz family, and lando and luigi would go out for dinner, and then maybe hit a club after the older-older members of the family had gone back to the hotel.

for lando, all of them were old.

smiling wide, he stepped into his drivers room, ready to take a shower, and get ready for the evening dinner, when he saw the bouquet on the table.

yellow roses.

opening the card, it said, "for your carlando love. it might just be greater than landoy/n but i'm okay with that ;) give him a few of these from me, would you? i love you. y/n."

keeping the bouquet back carefully, he quickly got ready and removed a few of the flowers from the bouquet for carlos, before handing the actual bouquet to jon to keep at his hotel room safely.

later, carlos sent a picture to y/n, a selfie of carlos and lando, and the yellow roses between them.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

abu dhabi p1 - nasturtium [victory]

she stood near the paddock, patiently waiting for lando, with a bouquet of nasturtiums in her hands. this one, she wanted to give in person.

she had taken a chance when ordering the flowers. sure, there was a chance that mclaren wouldn't have won the constructors, and while it was a small chance, she didn't want to jinx anything accidentally.

but lando had been confident, and y/n knew that if lando was feeling confident while being under so much pressure, there was nothing that could stop him from achieving his dream today.

y/n chatted with his mum and sister, all of three of them smiling so widely. the three women recounted specific parts of the races, every thought process that was going on during the race, the adrenaline, the anxiety, everything.

when lando finally found the three of them together, he hugged his mum first, and y/n smiled. she watched the sweet interaction between them, before he moved on to his sister, who joked with him but told him how proud she was.

finally, he turned to her, smiling so wide, eyes shining, and a relief in his shoulders. she pushed the flowers towards him, and said, "they're called nasturtium. for your victory, for your team's victory."

lando accepted the flowers, smiling softly as he looked at the bouquet. he took a step towards his girlfriend, wrapping his arms around her waist, as she wrapped hers around his neck. she could feel the bouquet against her back, and the two of them just seemed to just move side to side a little.

"thank you for being here," he whispered in her ear.

"where else would i be?" she whispered back.

he pressed a kiss against her neck, before he pulled back and kissed her once. just a little peck of i love you.

smiling, she slid her hand down to his heart, and said, "you did it."

he smiled, "we did it."

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

"what are these?"

"petals,"

"i see that, lando. where are they from?"

"a petal from every flower you've gifted me this year,"

"you saved them?"

"of course."

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

fun fact: the spain gp on 2024 was on my birthday! anyways, i feel like this got a little repetitive, but like, if kando was real, i'd buy him flowers all the time! i probably have messed up somewhere with the details, but i'm too far gone to make edits. sorry 🤷‍♀️ lemme know what you think of it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[buzzinrusso]

New years meeting

I'm sorry if I didn't do this prompt justice !! It's based off this request a very nice anon sent !

---

New Year's Eve had arrived, and the city was buzzing with excitement. The streets were filled with people heading to parties, clubs, and bars to ring in the new year. You, however, weren’t looking for wild celebrations. After a hectic year, you just wanted a quiet evening to unwind, so you decided to stop by a low-key bar for a drink. The vibe was just what you needed—chilled, yet festive enough to enjoy the night

But as you sat at the bar nursing your drink, an overly confident guy had started making things uncomfortable. He slid into the seat next to you, a forced grin on his face as he eyed you up.

“Hey, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone on New Year’s Eve?” he said, his voice too loud for the quiet setting.

You smiled politely, hoping he’d take the hint. “Just having a drink. I’m good, thanks,” you said, keeping your gaze on your glass.

But the guy didn’t back off. He leaned in closer, his breath smelling faintly of whiskey. “C’mon, I bet you could use some company tonight. We could have a good time together.”

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to give him a pointed look. “I’m really not interested,” you said, your voice firmer this time.

He ignored you, moving even closer, reaching out a hand to touch your arm. “Come on, don’t be shy,” he said, his hand inching toward yours.

At that moment, you felt a sharp presence beside you—someone stepping in. You turned to see a woman with dark hair, wearing a sleek leather jacket, standing tall with a confident air. It was Alexia.

“Hey,” Alexia said, her tone calm but firm. “She said she’s not interested, so you’re going to have to piss off.”

The guy blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden interruption. “What?” he mumbled, squinting at Alexia as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I said piss off,” Alexia repeated, her voice unwavering. She stepped closer to him, eyes locking onto his with such intensity that it made the guy visibly stumble back. "She told you she’s not interested. Take the hint and move along."

The guy opened his mouth, but no words came out. He glanced at Alexia and then at you, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to win this one. Finally, he muttered something incoherent and slunk away, disappearing into the crowd.

You blinked, surprised at how easily Alexia had handled the situation.

"Thanks," you said, still a little shaken but relieved. "I didn’t know how else to get him to leave me alone."

“No problem,” Alexia said with a reassuring smile. She glanced at you, her eyes softening. “Some people just don’t get the message. Glad I could help.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension start to leave your body. “That was exactly what I needed. I was about to lose my patience.”

Alexia gave you a light laugh. “I’ve had to do that more times than I can count. People don’t seem to understand what ‘no’ means sometimes.”

You smiled, finally feeling like you could relax. “I guess I owe you one. I didn’t think anyone would step in.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t owe me anything. But if you’re feeling generous, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink with you.”

You chuckled, feeling the ice break between you. “That sounds great. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Alexia,” she replied with a smirk. “And you?”

“y/n,” you answered, offering your hand.

She shook it firmly, her smile warm and genuine. There was something about the way she carried herself that made you feel comfortable, even in this crowded bar.

The two of you made your way to the bar to grab another round, and as you stood there, Alexia’s teammates from the other side of the room—Mapi, Irene, Patri, and Claudia—were watching, clearly noticing the dynamic between you two.

---

As Alexia ordered drinks, her teammates couldn’t help but exchange a few glances and muttered remarks. Mapi, ever the loud one, leaned over to Irene with a playful grin. “Look at Lex. First she saves the stranger, and now she’s all cozy with her.”

Irene raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping up on her face. “We all know ale isn’t exactly the talk-to-random-strangers type. She must be into her.”

Alexia had her back turned, not hearing the conversation, but you couldn’t help but notice the way her teammates were eyeing the two of you. Patri shot a knowing smirk at Claudia, who was trying to suppress her own grin.

“You think ale is going to kiss her before midnight?” Patri asked, her tone amused.

Claudia shook her head, but her lips curled into a small smile. “With the way she’s looking at her, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The teasing continued as Alexia returned with the drinks, but she didn’t let it faze her. She was used to her teammates giving her a hard time. “Here you go,” Alexia said, handing you your drink. “Ignore them—they love to poke fun.”

You laughed, taking the drink. “I think they might be onto something though. You’ve got a bit of that ‘heart-eyes’ look right now.”

Alexia rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “They’re insufferable,” she muttered under her breath, but there was an amused sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you.

Just as the conversation died down, Patri called out loudly from across the bar, “Hey, ale, don’t forget! It’s New Year’s Eve—perfect time for a kiss, right?”

Alexia shot a glare at her, but the playful smile she gave you showed no signs of being upset. “Ignore her,” Alexia said with a chuckle. “She’s just looking for drama.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her presence. "Well, if you insist on ignoring them, I guess I’ll just have to keep you company instead."

---

The night continued on, filled with laughter, teasing, and good conversation. As the clock ticked closer to midnight, the energy in the bar grew more intense. The countdown began, and you could feel the anticipation in the air.

Alexia was standing a little closer now, and every glance you exchanged made your heart flutter. Finally, when the clock struck midnight, the whole bar erupted in cheers. You felt Alexia step closer, her breath warm against your skin, and without a second thought, she leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a slow, lingering kiss. It was brief, but it carried so much unspoken energy between you two—an electric charge that made everything around you disappear for a moment. When she pulled back, her smile was soft, and her eyes sparkled with something deeper.

"Happy New Year," Alexia whispered, her voice just for you.

"Happy New Year," you replied, feeling your heart race, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care about anything else.

---

The days after New Year’s Eve were filled with messages, phone calls, and casual conversations that made you smile every time you checked your phone. Alexia had texted you the morning after the party, and you had quickly exchanged texts, agreeing to go on a proper date.

“Had a great time with you last night. Wanna grab dinner sometime this week?” Alexia had messaged you.

Your heart fluttered as you quickly responded, “Absolutely. When’s good for you?”

She replied almost instantly: “How about Thursday? There’s this great Italian place I know. The food’s amazing.”

“Sounds perfect. Can’t wait,” you texted back, already excited about the idea of seeing her again.

---

Thursday evening rolled around, and you found yourself waiting outside the restaurant, your heart beating faster with anticipation. When Alexia arrived, you couldn’t help but smile. She looked effortlessly stunning in a black leather jacket, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.

“Hey,” she greeted you with a soft smile. “Ready to eat?”

“Definitely,” you replied with a grin, feeling your nerves ease as soon as she was in front of you.

The meal was perfect—casual yet intimate, with easy conversation flowing. You laughed, talked about everything from your favorite foods to the random little details that made each of you unique. You felt like you were learning more about her with every sentence.

By the end of the evening, you exchanged numbers for real, saved each other's contacts, and promised to keep in touch. Alexia smiled at you, her gaze soft and her heart-eyes unmistakable.

“I’m glad we did this,” she said, her voice quieter now, but full of sincerity.

“Me too,” you replied, feeling the connection between you grow stronger. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Neither can I,” Alexia said, her hand brushing yours as she pulled away, a grin on her face.

As she drove away, you stood there, watching her leave with a heart full of possibility, knowing that this was just the beginning of something amazing.

---

And so, with a kiss, a few exchanged messages, and the start of something real, you and Alexia began to explore what this new year had in store for the both of you.

And that night , you both didn't know it, but you had each net the love of your lives . Your New years meeting would become a story that you would tell to your kids , and a story that your kids will tell to their kids.

[kaciebello]

Us before you and me

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Summary: Luke and the readers’ relationship before they became a couple. Luke is an absolute loser when it comes to crushes. Warning: no use of y/n, luke is a total looser author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,3k

Luke Castellan was 14 when he came to the camp, and he was sad. Not only did he just lose a friend that turned into a tree, but he had to pretend to like his dad.

Now that he was 15, his mind was somewhere else, his friends to be exact. He tried to make friends with everyone. But these two in the Hermes cabin just caught his eye. They argued all the time, it was almost unbearable, and yet they refused to sleep anywhere but next to each other. It has been a few months since they got here, and somehow their banter has extended to him.

So now that he and Chris were watching the Aphrodite girlies, Chris had dragged him out. He was talking about something Luke did not care about. He only started to pay attention when he slapped him. Luke gave him a confused look.

“You're not even looking man,” Cris says.

“Because it's creepy!” Luke argues back. It was creepy, they disguised themself as resting campers next to the Aphrodite cabin. To him, and everyone else, it looked like Cris just discovered what a woman is. Granted, they just turned 15, so he is certain that was the case. Luke couldn't bring himself to care. When he thought about girls only one face came to his mind, and he was not about to confess that to his friend.

“Don't you see them! They look good!” Chri says back. 

“I like someone already.” Chris looks at him with a deadpaned look. Absolute silence. Maybe Luke really should not have said anything. According to Chris, Luke could have anyone in the camp. Even crowing him as the heartthrob of the camp.  Luke tried to move on as fast as he could from this conversation, however, Chris's attention was sparked, and would not let go of the conversation.

They kept going back and forth and none of them noticed a familiar girl come their way.

“ Stop spying on the aphrodite cabin like they are some prey!” She says, effectively tearing them out of their argument.

“ Prey?? What are we? Animas?” Luke was quick to defend himself. He didn't even want to be here.

“ Not you, you raging virgin,”  Chris says and gives him a side-eye. The girl just rolls her eyes. 

“I'm not a virgin!” Luke's voice cracked, not something he wanted to happen while defending his honor. His eyes snap to the girl, hoping that she would believe him. But she looked like she wouldn't even believe he had hair on his head. Luke signs defeat. There is no winning in this. He just has to come to terms with the fact that his crush thinks he's a total loser.

–

When Luke turned 16 he realized he wanted to look ripped. And he wanted to get girls, well a specific one but he will not say that aloud. He will tell you he just wants to be a better hero with glory and all that. However Luke was 16, and he had no better idea than to practice in front of his crush.

He was nervous. Sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the sword fighting or her. She was just sitting down and looking at him. His heart was beating way too fast for his liking. So he was very glad when his opponent called it quits and he could rest.

He went and sat down next to the girl. She smiled and handed him a towel and cold water. He rolled his sleeves up his shoulders to feel some of the cold air. The girl had to do a double-take at him. He could see her in the corner of his eye looking at him. He flexed his arms just a little.

“ Exposing your biceps like that? What a slut.” She says. His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. He turns to her with a smirk on his face.

“ You like that don't you.”  That stopped her in the tracks. He could practically see the clogs turn in her head.

“Maybe I do.” She says, her eyes fixated on his arms. Luke went red and looked away. He could feel her arm on him as she studied his mussels. He let her arm wander, they were seemingly in their world.  Her arms slip to his chest. He looked down and then back to her.

“ I know my pecs are big but can you stop objectifying me?” The girl stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Nah.” With that, she just continued to feel him up. He just let her.

—

Luke was 17 when one of his closest friends was claimed by Hades and had to move out of the cabin into a small room above the medical storage unit. He helped her move the stuff, not that she had much but still. When he walked into the room he saw her standing with Chris, who upon seeing him gave him a smirk. Luke sat the bag down and turned around to see Crish walking out giving him a wink.

Luke turned to the girl with a confused look. She just shrugged and thanked him for bringing the bag. He could feel the tension in the air. Luke looked around the room. It wasn't big, but it was something, and first and foremost it was private. Not something he could say about his bed. He looked at the girl again. She was not sporting a black camp shirt instead of an orange one. Fitting for a Hades kid. 

When his eyes got to her face his heart jumped to her throat for a bit. She was looking at him with a sheepish smile. 

“So Chris said-” Right then and there he knew. He knew his friend had said something he shouldn't.

“Don't believe Chris !” He yelped and grabbed her hand. Silently he begged her to forget whatever the boy told her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“ So you don't get a major ‘love boner’ every time you see me?” A whine leaves Luke's lips.

“Why did he have to put it like that.” He says his voice high-pitched. The girl just let out a laugh.

—

Luke was 18 when he confessed. He was 18 when she confessed back. And he was 18 when he kissed his crush of 4 years.  He was 18 now lying in the Hermes cabin looking at the ceiling dreamingly. He could only remember what her hands and lips felt on him. The other 3 boys were taking none of that.

“He's a mess. Like mess mess.” Says Connor looking at his counsellor with a weird look, before turning to his brother who wore a similar expression.

“ Mess in distress but still the best dressed?” Answered Travis. He has been cursed by one of the Apollo kids to say things that rhyme but not really.  It's been going on for a week now with no sign of going away.

“He's definitely not best dressed, I can tell you that.” Says Chris sitting at the foot of Luke's bed cleaning his nails.

Lukes wasn't paying them attention. He finally achieved what he wanted since 15.  He could handle the teasing if it meant he could sneak into her room after calling lights out. One of the twins poked him in the ribs but he just swatted them away.

He could hear them say he was gone, but the only thing he could think about was his girlfriend. 

It was a year later when he was 19 and risked everything.

[churipu]

96 + 98 , gojo satoru

featuring. gojo satoru x reader

warnings. cursing, school! au, uses of the word 'pretty' to describe the readers' appearance // 2.9k words

note. i absolutely love the academic rivals to lovers trope, so here's a try on this trope. and i'm so glad requests are coming in :') i'll be getting to them after this one shot <;33

synopsis. gojo and you have never gotten along, maybe it's the fact he's the epitome of perfection. he has a pretty face and a pretty brain, who wouldn't like that? so you made it your job to try and beat him at that brain game of his, which never ends well. until you find yourself 2 points higher than him, with his help. oh, boy.

gojo satoru was everywhere. and by everywhere — i mean everywhere.

it was no longer surprising that everyone in school knows him, whether by his name or personally knowing him. it's a surprise if someone doesn't know him, really.

he has a pretty face, and a pretty brain. who wouldn't like that? he's got girls and guys fawning and bowing down to him like their life depended on it, but really, is that all to him? a pretty face and brain?

unfortunately, not.

just to top it off, like a cherry on top. his friendly and light demeanor has earned a lot of respect from people all around, even ones who were outside of school — and that shit, pisses you off. he's the epitome of perfection that it pisses you off, how does one look like they have no flaws?

you used to think that you were it. people call you smart and how they envy your intelligence. but ever since gojo satoru beats you at the one thing you solely thing you excel in (you think): your brain. you had a personal feud with him; which you were currently losing in, by the way.

pretty was never an adjective that sits well with you. you never thought you were a pretty person. back during middle school, you tried hard, constantly trying to make yourself pretty for the sake of others to like you. but at the end of the day, it's you sitting down in front of the mirror doubting yourself whether this was really you or a person you made for other people to look at.

so you settled down for the one thing you were good at: studying.

"fuck you, gojo." you muttered out, clutching your test paper with a big fat and raging red '92' on it along with a 'nice job!' under it, and the fact that it has a smiley face beside it gave you the ick. you just wanted to pour gasoline on it and set the paper on fire.

"just because i beat you in a calculus test? c'mon y/n, instead of that — why don't we just study together?" he swayed, holding out his paper that had a big '100' on it.

ever since you made it your job to try beating him with your grades, you've never find the pleasure in studying anymore. it felt like a chore, it felt like a chore to beat gojo satoru; and when it doesn't happen, you just kind of drown in failure.

and it fucking sucks.

constantly forcing yourself to study just for the sake of beating him even by a point or two, it didn't feel nice. but the thought of him winning yet again made you a little scared.

a 92 for a calculus test would be a dream come true to other people. it would be yours too if gojo satoru hadn't appear in your life, but reality check, he's here and he's just so good at it that it angers you.

people often called you "ungrateful" or a "try hard", honestly, at this point — you can't really help but to think the same. anyone would want to get a 90 in a calculus test, or any other test. but to you, it felt like defeat.

you won't be satisfied until you beat him.

beat gojo satoru.

"study togeth— are you fucking serious?" you spat out at him angrily, crossing your arms.

gojo leans on the stair railing and hums softly, "yes. one hundred percent serious, wanna do it?" he shot you the sweetest smile.

a smile that would send any other person to the moon and back, but the sight honestly just pisses you off. the anger you felt from him beating you in the most recent calculus test was already too much to bear, and like adding salt to the wound, he hits you with a "why don't we just study together?"

"go to hell." you muttered, walking away.

"hey!" the male calls out to you, as much as you didn't want to stop — you did, glancing back at him, brows furrowed, "we have a statistics test next week, maybe it's your time to shine."

his voice was teasing, and he said that with a big toothy grin. god, you just wanted to run over there and bash his face in, plastering a scowl on your face, you shoved out your tongue and walked away. gojo laughs loudly as you walked away.

the dreaded statistics test came, and for some reason — you were more nervous than usual. maybe it was the fact gojo was taunting you about it the other day? or was it the fact he was sitting right next to you, occasionally stealing glances at you with those striking deep-set blue eyes of his.

you'd be lying if you said the male wasn't attractive. but even the thought of yourself thinking about such makes you angry. honestly, everything about him makes you angry.

you look to the side and the male was leaning his head down, his cheek on his left arm as he scribbled on his answer sheet. noticing your gaze on him, he gives you a big smile, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes deepening.

upon that, your face contorted into one of disgust and your eyes averted back towards your answer sheet, which somehow looks...empty. it wasn't that you didn't know the answers to it, there was doubt in you, would you be able to finally beat him? what if you lost again?

but as time was ticking, you pushed those thoughts away and wrote down your answers. confidently. as your teacher commanded for everyone to collect their answer sheets, it was no surprise that the male sitting beside you was the first one to stand. trotting over to the teacher's table and collecting his work, he strides back towards his seat, shooting you a (mocking) wink.

a few minutes later, you stood up to collect your own answer sheet. students often wanted time to go in a rush during average lessons, but tests? they hoped time had slow down even just by a few seconds. it was dreadful, groans and aggravated sighs were heaved out as the bell rang, signifying the end of the test.

"so, how did you do?" gojo questions, standing undoubtedly close to you. too close to your liking, but you brushed that part off.

"why does it matter to you?" you uttered back, annoyed.

"woah, shit. somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," you sighed out exasperatedly, standing up to make your way to the school's cafeteria. one of the most atrocious place you could ever walk into — if you hadn't woke up half an hour later this morning, maybe you wouldn't on your way there right now.

but it is what it is.

"why're you following me?"

gojo groans out, "dream on. i'm going to the cafeteria to eat and hang out with my friends, not to follow you," he mumbles out, his hands shoved deep inside his pocket, "why're you always so angry with me? who hurt you?"

"you."

gojo was silent, he looks at you with a surprised look, "wait, really? remind me of what i did again because i don't have any records of picking fights with you...?" confusion.

you casted a disdainful look towards the male, prompting to stay silent to his nonchalant question-answer. gojo didn't pry on, the confusion still written all over his face, but he walked by your side slowly, matching your steps.

"i'm sure you're gonna beat me in statistics." he suddenly prompted, grinning brightly, "i didn't have time to study."

you groan out in annoyance, typical template of words people use when they know damn well they're going to ace the test. his words were answered with complete silence from you as you slipped inside the cafeteria, walking towards a section to buy yourself a meal.

and gojo, like he said — didn't follow you and parted ways right after you both enter the rowdy place.

"so, what's your score?" gojo whistles, leaning back on his chair as he holds onto a paper, looking at it intently.

you clutched onto the statistics test you did last week, blinking hesitantly, "ninety-eight." your reply was short, but at least it answered him.

a few seconds passed by and doubt started surging in you, maybe he had landed yet another perfect mark? maybe he's one point higher? maybe he's thinking of words to make fun of you with. so many thoughts at this point that you felt your head hurt.

"congratulations."

"yeah, yeah i— congratulations?" you turn towards the male, who was holding out his paper with the number '96' on it.

it took you a few seconds to digest the whole scenario. you actually beating him by two points? it might not seem a lot to other people, but to you? two points felt like you'd just won a competition first place with a gold medal.

the corner of your lips twitched upwards, "i did it."

gojo shrugs his shoulders sheepishly, he didn't seem too affected by your score, "guess you did. congrats."

the whole thing felt a little too good to be true, you tried doing anything to wake up from this dream. pinching yourself, smacking yourself, but nothing happened — this is real life.

and you finally beat gojo satoru in a brain game.

"oh my god, okay — i am freaking out a bit." you tell him, a small smile plastered on your face. in that moment, you wanted to just scream, shout, and let all your euphoria out.

"hold your horses, we still have economics next week." he chuckles, shaking his head.

but you were too ecstatic to hinder his words, standing up, you ran out of the class with sporadic steps. you jumped down a few steps of stairs and approached a vending machine giddily, inserting a bill and pressing on a big can of pop.

opening it with a slight 'pop!' you chugged down on the contents happily, walking all around the school property with a big smile that brought people into a state of wonder. asking themselves to why you could be this happy.

finding yourself on the rooftop, you inhaled sharply. letting the summer breeze caress your face lightly, you sat down around the corner of the staircase, scrolling through your phone happily. even to commemorate the day — you'd mark it in your phone's calendar, naming the day "the day i finally beat gojo satoru's brain power!"

hugging the device, elated. you look up towards the blue sky, was this it? was everything you sacrificed just for today? could you finally study without the burden of beating him in the future?

you hear the door to the rooftop open with a loud slam, flinching a bit. startled at how loud it was, and to your dismay, it was the deep, agonizing laugh of gojo satoru that made you freeze on your spot.

"y/n got higher in statistics? woah." you recognized that voice as geto suguru, one of gojo's closest friend besides shoko ieiri, "what did you do?"

at the mention of your name and last week's statistic test, your ears perked up a bit. gojo's deep chuckles resounds and he cleared his throat, "i could've beat them if i wanted to."

you bit the inner of your cheek silently, "could've? why didn't you?"

"i felt bad for them."

that was it. those three words were all it took to dissipate the ecstasy you felt for a short while. turns out it was all a fluke? you blinked in confusion, does that mean you beating him was all a planned thing he made?

"what do y'mean feel bad?"

"i don't know suguru, they look like they're trying so hard," gojo mumbles out lightly. even if there were no signs of mockery in his voice, still, you felt as if this was an unfair win for you (not that there was a win-lose from the beginning, you just made it up along the way).

the disappointment seeped in, and you felt a sense of languor washing over you. he was just letting you win, standing up slowly, you brushed your outfit — making your presence known to the two friends.

"you're a fucking prick, you know that?"

gojo looks back at you, his eyes widening the slightest bit, obviously not expecting you to be here, "how long have you been listening to us?" he asks you softly, exhaling slowly as if he had been holding a deep breath.

"it doesn't matter how long i've been listening to you, fuck you."

gojo's face fell as you began leaving the rooftop, he contemplated on chasing after you, but stopped himself from doing so. assuming you wouldn't be in the right mind to be talking to him right now.

or ever.

which was proven by the constant game of cat-and-mouse, he and you were doing.

"y/n, can we talk—" you brushed past him like he didn't matter, and gojo swore he felt his heart break a little when you walk by him, not even sparing a glance. but he didn't chase after you.

for the next couple of weeks, the male has been nothing but desperate. trying to reach out to you both online and offline, but much to his dismay, none of them had the feedback he needed to hear. and it fucking broke him.

"y/n, can we please talk about this?" he asks you as you took a seat on your assigned seat like the usual, but you didn't give him the attention, "please don't ignore me, talk to me."

he sounded so desperate. at this point, it was like the male was at school for you and you only. he just needed to talk to you about everything, get things straight, and live life like the usual. fighting about grades, teasing you about it, even if you return it with simple insults or the language of sarcasm.

he just needed that y/n back.

as you stood up, this time gojo chases after you, grabbing your wrist as you slipped away from the door, "talk to me, please," he mutters out lowly, his grasp so gentle.

you furrowed your brows and pulled your wrist away before turning away, walking further from where he stood.

"why won't you talk to me?" he asks you out, his voice echoing throughout the hallway of the third floor, "why won't you let me explain what i really meant by what i said that day? why won't you give me a chance to talk about it? why won't you talk to me?"

it irked you. he succeeded in stopping your walk, making you glance back at him in annoyance, "i didn't mean it in a way i didn't trust that you could beat me in the test," he said, standing in the same spot, the creases in between his brows deepening and a big frown latched on his lips.

"i see you everyday, ruining yourself to try and beat me. i can't fucking stand it y/n— you're killing yourself slowly. and i don't like that," he tells you, "i didn't even know why this was a competition in the first place, you're a smart person, why do you have to validate that by trying to beat my grades?"

you clenched your fists in annoyance. annoyed that he was somehow right on point. yet again, he was right.

gojo looks at you, waiting for an answer. his eyes profusely blinking as if he was holding back tears, which wasn't the point. you spared him an odd look, trying to walk away yet again. but the male was ready to hold you in your place, gripping your arm.

"why are you doing this to yourself?" he asks you.

"doing what?" you finally answered him.

"this. everything."

i look him dead in the eyes, "because i fucking hate the fact that you're beating me in the only one thing i'm good at. i don't fucking know gojo, the fact that i'm actually not that good at the one thing i assumed i'm good at is pissing me off — you're pissing me off!"

"y/n, what the fuck are you talking about?"

you pulled your arm away, "look at you. you're attractive and you're smart — i don't think i'm attractive, so i just try to be smart, but i'm apparently not doing a fucking good job at it too."

gojo heaves out a sigh, "so you think i'm attractive and smart?"

you look at him in disbelief, "how is that important right now?"

"it is important. the person i like thinks i'm attractive and smart," he tells you.

"okay, so what if i find you attractive and smart— did you just say you like me, gojo? what the fuck?" you asked him, very surprised and he sent you a charming smile.

"how is that important right now?" he questions back, grabbing your hand, giving it a light squeeze, "what matters is that you're not going to ignore me again, because frankly speaking, i fucking hate it when you're ignoring the fuck out of me y/n. i don't care if you insult or talk shit about me, just don't ignore me."

i look at him, mouth slightly agape, "can we talk about the 'the person i like' part, please?" you posed a question, still in disbelief.

"no. that's not important."

"yes it is important, gojo."

"so when it comes to my feelings to you, it's suddenly important? can we talk about your feelings to me after then?" you shook your head and walked away after that sole question, "that's a bit unfair don't you think? and why the hell are you walking away? come back!"

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[rogue-cassian]

i'm disappointed by bix's arc in ep 7-9. look, i'm glad they didn't kill her off, but her arc is poorly written. it would've been so much more interesting if they showed us how much more radicalized bix is after successfully killing dr. gorst. since she and cassian have settled in yavin and she seems to be doing well on her recovery, i imagine she'd get to do more things for the rebellion. she's a mechanic, but she's definitely acquired other skills since it's been established in ep 4-6 that she'd gone on missions with cassian, so with her new skillset i imagine she'd get to take on more missions to fight the empire.

she wanted to win, she said that in ep 4. we've been told that she believed in the rebellion, but we don't get to see her do anything except being a stay-at-home wife. don't get me wrong, i love that she gets to have a domestic life with cassian, but i wish we got to see how committed she is to the cause through her participation in rebel activities. real actions, not just words. it would emphasize her growing dedication for the cause, which contrasts with cassian's wavering faith.

their difference would be glaring when cassian comes back from the ghorman massacre. they should've had bix confront cassian about his faith after he told her that he wanted to leave the rebellion and run away with her. let her shake him up, like "seriously, cass? after witnessing a massacre? after losing maarva and brasso? after ferrix? this is not what maarva would've wanted," or something along those lines. that would hit hard for cassian. that would push him to reflect on his values. and bix already pointed out to him in ep 4 that it's not up to them anymore to protect themselves. she understood that they're part of something bigger. so let her be frustrated at him for (thinking of) giving up, let her express her disappointment. let them both come to the realization that they want different things. that would've been a more proper set up for bix to say "i choose the rebellion" and leave.

but instead of that, they have bix talk to a force healer who made her believe that cassian is destined for something greater than just a pilot and try to convince him to stay in the rebellion because of that. 🤦🏻‍♀️

and yes, that force healer scene bothers me, because it feels like it's only there to tell the audience that cassian is special and that cassian and bix are each other's home, just to make the breakup more painful. but you could omit that scene, and nothing changes. the breakup would still be painful, at least for me anyway, since they've been through a lot together –it's clear that they deeply love each other. and we already know cassian is special. it doesn't need to be spelled out to us.

[sxprot]

dandy x reader where reader is babysitting pebble and pebble likes reader more than Dandy so Dandy and reader kinda have this competition for to be pebbles favorite. in the end it turns out cosmo is pebbles favorite because he gives the most treats to him.

Vibe is like rivals but make it parenting. One ups and jabs

Note: Real shit is when I don't know if the vibe is suitable for the requester, like c'mon, what does that mean?? I gotta do better, I must think about what I'm writing! It's like you're the teacher and I'm here, worrying about my grade. Hope you like it tho! Lol.

Dandy x gn!reader

But the reader is just a little gremlin, they like to cause mischief. Pebble part is platonic(divider cred:cafekitsune)

The shopkeeper isn't fond of you. You were a tad bit childish when it comes to winning, sometimes like to make silly challenges to partake in these...messes. Just a day of him asking you to babysit Pebble and...

Ugh, is it that necessary to you to take Pebble away from him? Dandy can't believe that you already sway the pet rock away with just some small treats.

And Dandy admits, he doesn't understand why you would use this to compete with him, especially using his dog just to be Pebble's favorite.

Now, the pet rock seems to never stick close to him but around you, happily barking to get your attention. Oh, how he likes to cling to you, licking your cheeks affectionately...It makes him rage a little with fury. Or just more than what he could describe?

He feels so sour, despite telling himself that you're simply didn't mean to. But he can never miss the way you would smirk, the smugness behind it when you had won in winning Pebble's attention.

And he knows he had to step in. This competitive side of you irritated him a tad bit, so he might need to get his point across your silly little head!

"Hello! Do you mind if I take Pebble back now?"

"Dandy, it hasn't been that long! What? You think I will steal your friend away?" You snip airily, with a giggle following along "Impatient."

Oh, how dare you to say that! He's no impatient flower, and he already waited for many days to dare and strike a proper conversation with you, what kind of lies are those? Those blatant lies, done openly and unshamedly by you, aren't acceptable

And from that moment on, you two started to take on a challenge: To be Pebble's favorite.

It started from playing, feeding, training and so much more,...To the point most Toons would get tensed when they spotted the two of you already sitting at the table, the dreadful tension filling the once peaceful area.

"Drop it." "Haha, admitting that you already lose?"

But all of those childish yelling is soon ended when the swirl cake roll comes in, waving at Pebble as the dog instantly hops off your lap.

Cosmo would just snicker, based on your reaction to his presence and impact, that seems to satisfy him when you two look back and stare at each other dumbly as if shocked about the results.

You feel awkward. You don't really think, feeling a bit of guilt and embarrassment for doing this, making the shopkeeper flinch in slight surprise at your sputtering words of 'sorry', head bowing down in shame.

But Dandy just shrugged, as if he were hesitating. Dropping a question to start being friends, and leaving behind all of those past troubles and mistakes. He too feels a bit of remorse for some reasons, thinking of it as a great way to start again.

Beside, he found you quite interesting.

He can't lie, all those times when he argues with you, parenting Pebble,...You piqued his interest.

He can be your friend. And he will.

(haha, dies becuz idk. Cosmo is glad because maybe you two would stop this madness after he got pebble's attention xd he had enough of u two frfr)

The fic end quick with a rushed ending, yep thats totally me cuz im suck

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 [𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Aventurine x dealer!fem!reader

Warnings: gambling, sexual tension.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq I'm just starting my blog on Boosty, but I'll be glad if you support me with a subscription and read the full NSFW version of this work there. Soon there will be other works that will not be published on Tumblr.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. VIVIZ — MANIAC

You have long heard from other casino employees about a certain visitor, which comes here quite often, but you have never been lucky enough to meet him until today. The girls sighed languidly, referring to him as a handsome man, preparing to serve him the best drink, for which he would pay generously, and the men working in security only irritably noted that if he visited the institution today, they would only have more work. Then you didn't pay any attention to their words until one of the bar staff squealed with delight, energetically pointing at the blond man who entered the hall.

A dazzling smile, a light gait, but a sly look hidden behind gold glasses, gliding across the tables and the employees standing behind them before playfully sparkling violet-blue eyes rest on you. Your back straightens reflexively, and your fingers wrap around the back of your hand, and you nod in greeting when several men, led by a blond man, approach your poker table. You have been working in the field of gambling for several years, so you can easily notice expensive watches, chains and rings on his hands and a long earring in the ear of an elegant man in a hat, dressed in a black jacket with a fur collar, a turquoise shirt with a small but provocative neckline on the chest and white trousers with patent leather shoes. In total, all the clothes and trinkets of this person can be compared to the cost of your life. Winning will not matter to him, as losing will not greatly affect the quality of his life, which means he simply enjoys a sense of excitement and superiority, since, according to rumors, he plays very well.

«Well…»

— Oh? I haven't seen you before, — the blond man lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose, smiling slyly at you as soon as you raise your head.

— I'm sorry, sir, today I'm serving you, because the dealer who is more familiar to you is ill, but I assure you, this will not affect the quality of the time spent in our institution in any way, — you kindly answer with a calm expression on your face, which causes the blonde to chuckle softly.

— How official! Relax, honey, — the man leans lower, slightly tilting his head to one side, carefully watching how the expression on your face changes to a more tense one. — It's a pity that… Oh, what was her name? — the blonde pulls away, thinking for a second, trying to remember the name of your colleague, but in the end only sighs briefly, spreading his hands. — It doesn't matter. You've been brought up to date, that we're going to need a separate room, haven't you?

— Yes, sir. Please follow me.

An unpleasant person. It was clear from afar that it was better to stay as far away from him as possible. These vibes of nauseating self-confidence and narcissism definitely don't bode well, but you still humbly do your duty, pulling on a smile and letting the guests into the VIP-room. Usually this room is rented by companies of influential people whose names are so well known to everyone that such guests don't even bother to introduce themselves, because you always know who they are, but these men… You're seeing them for the first time.

Anyway, a job is a job.

— Have a seat, dear guests. Would you like to see the bar menu?

Men in suits silently take their seats, and only an energetic blonde immediately responds to the sound of your voice, standing in front of the last empty chair.

— We'll order the same as usual,— the stranger says sweetly, spreading into a frighteningly sweet smile that sends chills down my spine.

— I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know…

— Oh, how could I forget! — the blond man clasps his hands in a gesture of apology. — Whiskey on the rocks.

His theatricality is a little annoying, but that's none of your business.

— As you wish, sir.

The female silhouette peeking out from behind the slightly open door and instantly disappearing after the blonde's words only made your task easier, allowing you not to even leave the room. It seems that this man is really very popular among girls, which, in principle, isn't surprising. A pretty face, a thick purse and a sugary voice, like a demeanor, are the pillars that support the classic image of a heartthrob in the eyes of any woman. It would be fascinating if you hadn't met such people before. This place is teeming with both men and women, sometimes even reasonably believing that the whole world belongs to them. Perhaps you would have bought into his charisma too, if you were as frivolous as a bar employee rushing into a room no more than five minutes after the order was placed.

— Thank you, dear. As always, you help out, otherwise my friends seem to be out of sorts today, — the blond man chuckles melodiously, looking at the other five guests. You can almost see in their stern looks the desire to strangle this talkative flatterer, and you can't help but chuckle to yourself.

— Anything for our beloved visitor! Have a nice game, — your friend blushes, smiling shyly before leaving the room, barely restraining a satisfied squeak.

You modestly clear your throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table to yourself.

— Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?

You leave the button* in front of the blond man sitting first on your left hand. Early* is the most unfavorable position to start the game, but he should have known about it when he sat down here, or is it just an accident?

After the preflop*, while you were deftly shuffling the deck in your hands, someone had already started emptying their glass of whiskey, someone took out a pair of fragrant chocolate cigars. The blonde just watched carefully how skillfully you dealt the cards, not missing a single movement of your fingers. For a second, you even doubted that he didn't trust the new dealer, but every time you dared to look at him, his lips stretched into an even more sugary smile, and his eyes always found yours. Is he trying to get you into the same emotions as the silly waitresses? You wonder how soon he'll lose interest in your indifferent face?

The game went on quite calmly until three people remained at the table, including a smiling blond man.

— Ace of hearts, two of spades, jack of hearts, ten of clubs, two of hearts. The bets are made, you can open, — you say in a monotone voice, glancing at the cards on the table that turn over one by one.

«Street? Not bad…» — you stop looking at the blond's cards before you hear a thud on the table. After looking at the other hands it became clear that there is nothing on the table stronger than two pairs.

— Oh, don't get mad! We've just started, — the blond man raises his hands in an innocent gesture, chuckling softly, it seems, making the man opposite even angrier.

It seems that now you understand a little what the casino guards were so unhappy about, but the more games passed, the more sad the blonde's position became. The empty glasses were hastily replaced with newly filled ones with a new portion of whiskey, and the concentration of smoke in the small room became more and more suffocating, it seems, only exposing the undisguised glee of the men at the table, allowing themselves to mock the blonde, who was catastrophically unlucky today. A flush* against a royal flush, a pair against a square* and, in the end, his hand could only boast of the highest card*. What a disappointment.

— Here, order yourself one more whiskey, — one of the departing men casually tossed a couple of chips in front of the blond man sprawled on a chair, grinning hoarsely before staggering slightly out of the room after the other four, whose loud voices disappeared into the noise of the casino outside the door.

— Sure, — the man who remained at the table smiled gently at the departing acquaintance before taking a sip from his glass.

You wanted to say something, maybe even encourage him, but it's not your way to mind your own business, so you just silently gathered the cards from the table, about to ask the guest to leave the room, when suddenly he spoke first.

— That's not what you expected, is it? — you turn to the blond man, who is resting his head on his own palm. The same strange smile is still playing on his lips, even despite how much money he left at this institution today. He's really weird.

— I don't know what you mean. I don't know how you play, so I couldn't even try to predict the outcome of the game.

— Come on. You know how I play. That girl from the bar told you about me, didn't she?

Annoy.

— Even so, I'm not used to trust rumors, — you reply indifferently, carefully putting the cards back in the box.

— In that case, now you can conclude that I'm a lousy player? Oh, that would be unfortunate, because everyone has unlucky days.

— I don't think it's about luck, — you wanted to say that someone should just drink less and make less risky bets, but you restrained yourself, maintaining professionalism.

— Ho-oh? Then what is it? — the blond man perked up even more, waiting curiously for your answer.

— It is not appropriate for me to give advice to visitors, because my earnings, among other things, depend on them.

— That's how it is! So I was wrong when I decided that you weren't like the other girls looking at my wallet?

— It turns out that it is. But I'm looking at the wallets of every potentially profitable player for me, — you shrug your shoulders. — And now, if you'll excuse me, you should leave the room, since the game is over.

— How pragmatic, you remind me of someone I know, — the blond man, as if he hadn't heard your last words, gets up from his chair, coming closer. — So you don't believe in luck, huh?

The man leans slightly forward, looking into your eyes from under the half-lowered glasses on the bridge of his nose. The expensive sweet fragrance of the perfume instantly cuts into your nostrils, and you take a small step back.

— It's absurdly to rely only on luck in poker. That's all I wanted to say.

— Hm-m … — the blond man pretends to think. — You're right. Then what about roulette?

— Even roulette has its own patterns, but if we don't go into details, of course, this game revolves exclusively around chance.

— Great! Then can we play? — the man turns towards the roulette table, which has apparently not been used for a long time, in the corner of the room.

— I'm afraid my shift is already over… — you frown, even before you finish, he interrupts you.

— Oh, I was so catastrophically unlucky today that I just want to win back at least another game, otherwise I won't be able to sleep peacefully tonight… Are you really that heartless?

— You can use the services of a croupier and play roulette in the hall.

— It would be sad, because I already liked you, — the blonde smiles, looking into your eyes again.

— If you're trying to flirt with me like that, then I'm in a hurry to upset you — it won't work, — you reply irritably, about to leave, when suddenly a weak grip on your wrist stops you.

— I'm sad to hear that, but what if I make a bet?

You turn around, batting your eyelashes in puzzlement when you meet the sharp gaze of a man's violet-blue eyes.

— You can't play roulette without betting, what's the point of all this?

— Let's say… if my bet plays out, you owe me a kiss, what do you say?

You almost boil with anger, looking at this personification of self-confidence standing in front of you.

— I'm not going to play your games, let go of my hand.

The attempt to pull back your hand was unsuccessful, on the contrary, only forcing the blond to pull you closer.

— It seems that luck isn't on my side today, so if I lose, I'll just leave.

The desire to just slap him in the face is almost impossible to ignore, but you wouldn't be working here if you weren't a gambling person too. Your lips stretch into an arrogant smile as you approach the blond man's face, slightly squinting your eyes.

— In that case, on what number* will you put it on?

The blond man's eyebrows rise, after which a ringing laugh is heard in the room.

— I knew you could entertain me! — the man lets go of your hand, but does not take a step away from you before saying softly. — I'm betting on zero.

«He's crazy!»

You almost laughed at how crazy his bet turned out to be, but it sounds like he's already agreed to leave you alone, so you just smiled, silently retreating to the corner of the dimly lit room. The table has indeed not been used for a long time, having already become covered with a layer of dust, but you take a small ball, gently rolling it in your hand before turning towards the blond man who remains standing at the poker table. He doesn't seem to care at all that he's going to lose now, and the smile doesn't leave his face for a second. It will be all the sweeter to see how the expression on his face will change when he loses.

— Your bet is accepted, — you say loudly before spinning the roulette wheel by throwing a ball at it.

The man doesn't even look at the spinning roulette wheel, instead watching your eyes follow the ball as it slides across the sectors.

12, 35, 3, 26, and finally….

— It can't be… — you whisper, eyes wide open and just looking at how the ball stopped at zero.

— Ho-oh? What's is it? Judging by your reaction, did I win? — the blond man grins, slowly removing his hat from his head and leaving the hat on the edge of the poker table.

This can't be happening. Betting on numbers is always a huge risk, because the chance that the ball will stop at the chosen one is incredibly small. Was he… really just lucky?

You purse your lips, summoning all the self-control you have to turn to the man with an indifferent expression on your face.

— That's right, congratulations on winning, sir.

— M-m… it's not just a win, you remember the conditions, right? — the blond man says playfully, slowly walking towards you, until finally he towers over you, elegantly ripping the glasses off his face.

«This jerk has probably been rehearsing this for years…»

— I didn't have to accept such bets at all, — you mutter irritably.

— I understand your disappointment, but still, you accepted it. Be kind enough to hand me my prize, — you look into the extraordinarily beautiful eyes of a man, trying your best to deny how really attractive he looks without glasses and a hat.

— Ahem… okay. But can I at least get your name? I wouldn't want to kiss a complete stranger.

— Huh? So you don't know who I am? How cute, — the blond man squints, breaking into a smile. — You can call me Aventurine. And you… — the man hooks the badge on your chest with the tip of his finger. — Y/N.

Where have all your old composure gone? They probably got lost somewhere in the midst of this madness, which for some reason you signed up for, following your own excitement. Self-confidence is just as much your enemy as Aventurine, only in this case he is elated with victory, and you are trying to collect your thoughts in order to fulfill the conditions of the game he started.

— Excuse me… — you mumble awkwardly before pressing your lips to the man's cheek, leaving as quick a kiss as possible to hastily turn away, hiding the blush that has appeared on your face.

— Hey! And what was that? — Aventurine says in disappointment, touching the place of your kiss with the tips of his black-gloved fingers.

— You asked for a kiss, but didn't specify which one, — you try to sound confident, but still mentally berate yourself for not being able to look into his eyes right now.

— Oh… — the blond man sighs heavily, pulling away and approaching the roulette table. — I'm not satisfied with such a victory. Let's do it again.

— Huh?! — you cry out indignantly, looking at the back of the impudent man rolling the ball around the zero sector. — I shouldn't be here at all, and neither should you!

— I'm betting on zero again.

You freeze, raising an eyebrow when you turn to Aventurine.

— You're going to lose.

— Maybe, — the man shrugs, turning to face you and leaning on the edge of the table. — But if the bet plays out again, you'll give me a real long kiss.

— I'm not going to waste my time on this madness. The chances of hitting zero a second time are so small that it's easier for you to just leave this room right now, since it's simply impossible to play this bet.

— Let it be so. You don't lose anything if you're so sure of my defeat, do you? Besides, didn't you say that you don't give advice to the players?

It annoys you how logical his words sound. But what's even more annoying is that you really doubt it. It's just not possible. You have to show this arrogant idiot his place.

— Okay, — and here you go back to the roulette table again. — But if you lose, you will never return to this casino again.

Aventurine's purple eyes widen before flashing a gambling spark.

— And you know how to make the game more interesting, — the man grins, picking up the ball from the table, carefully leaving it in your hand. — I agree.

This will be the craziest bet anyone has ever made in the entire existence of this casino. And it only fuels your interest too. You spin the wheel in anticipation by throwing the ball. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as if your own life is at stake. It's been a long time since you've experienced such adrenaline, no matter how absurd what's happening, because it's worth it to win…

— Ha-ha! It seems that today is really my day, — Aventurine grins as the ball slowly rolls and stops at sector zero. Again. — The money I lost in poker was worth spending all my luck on such a tempting prize.

Impossible. He just did the impossible. What were the chances? The mind is so devastated by shock that you can't even approximate the probability, just silently looking at the green sector in amazement.

— You're not… cheating, are you? — you're almost whispering, without opening your eyes from the little ball.

— What cruel accusations! How, tell me, could I cheat at roulette? — the man clicks his tongue in frustration, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling your body towards his. — If these are just assumptions without any evidence, I think it's time to start awarding the second prize.

The lips open, releasing a soft sigh into the air. You feel the warmth emanating from his body, the smell that his nauseatingly expensive clothes exude, and you feel his measured breathing on the skin of your face when Aventurine bends down, almost touching his lips to yours and freezes.

— I'll make it easier for you this time, — the blond whispers, letting his warm breath caress the delicate skin of your lips.

— What do you mean?.. — the only thing you managed to say right before Aventurine's lips covered yours.

Long fingers dive into your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back, and he deepens the kiss, insistently making his way with his tongue through your lips, which are not too resisting. A soft moan dissolves in Aventurine's mouth, and your fingers desperately cling to the fabric of the shirt on the man's chest, but still you respond to the kiss, allowing your tongue to stick out a little further, slowly waltzing in tandem with his. The shock was instantly replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and a flutter in his chest. It seemed that this kiss lasted forever, so harmonious, gentle, but passionate, as if you have known each other for so long that Aventurine doesn't need much effort to make you melt in his hands, which you allow to touch your body.

Lips gasp for air as soon as Aventurine pulls away, looking at your flushed, relaxed face, which isn't touched by the former cold indifference with which you looked at him all evening.

It's a strange feeling. From the very beginning, when you saw this man, the only thought that you would never in your life become infatuated with just his presence somewhere nearby was ingrained in your head, now fighting for supremacy with the unwillingness that he would let you go. You shouldn't give in to this.

You gently press on Aventurine's chest, shuddering as soon as you feel his warm skin under your fingertips, noticing that you touched this very seductive neckline.

— Is that all? I have to go… — you say softly, trying to get out of Aventurine's hands, but he's not even going to let go of your waist or your cheek, to which his palm is still pressed.

— Really? Well, then I won't hold you back, — the blond man grins, still continuing to prevent your imaginary escape.

— Then let me go. I gave away your winnings and I don't owe you anything else.

— Yes, you did, — the man whispers, gently stroking your cheek with a thumb in a leather glove.

You look at each other without saying a word and freeze like statues. The muffled sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses and laughter come from the hall outside the door, breaking the silence that hangs between the two of you, but you can't hear anything else except your own rapid heartbeat throbbing in your ears. A strange warmth spreads in your chest, gradually sinking down, and a heavy weakness settles in your legs, which doesn't allow you to move from your place.

«What are you doing, Y/N?», — you ask yourself one last time before you swear unintelligibly under your breath, grabbing Aventurine's shirt in order to involve the man in the kiss again. Greedy, careless, but you needed it. The blonde's palm shamelessly moves to your buttocks, covered with black trousers, gently squeezing the elastic flesh, and your fingers slowly slip under the neckline in the shape of an inverted heart, caressing the heated skin of Aventurine's chest.

— W-wait… — you suddenly break off the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at the purple irises covered with long eyelashes.

— What's is it? I won't complain that the dealer is harassing me if you're worried about it, — Aventurine grins, forcing the expression on your face to change to the old irritation.

— This is wrong. I don't have to…

— I don't care about the rules, — the man tilts his head to one side, smiling playfully. — I'm betting on black.

— What? — you ask discouraged, watching the man's fingers hastily undoing the buttons of your white shirt.

— If I win, now you'll be my prize, — Aventurine winks at you before opening the cotton fabric on your chest, noticing you are wearing a black lace bra. — Tsk-tsk, how unlucky you are today. I won again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The button is a special chip marked "D", transmitted clockwise and identifying the dealer (in this case, the dealer is an employee of the casino, so the button only determines who will bet first).

The early position is the player's place at the poker table, located immediately behind the dealer.

Preflop is the initial stage of the poker game, which includes the distribution of cards and the first bets, including blinds.

A straight is a combination of a sequence of five cards.

A hand is a combination of two cards in the player's hands.

A flash combination of five cards of the same suit.

Royal flush is the strongest combination of cards from 10 to ace of the same suit.

A pair is a combination of two cards of the same value (for example, two aces).

A square is a combination of five cards of the same value (for example, four aces).

The highest card is the card of the highest value of all lying on the table.

In roulette, it is possible to bet on one color, on even and odd numbers, and so on, including you can bet on a specific number, which is quite risky due to the reduced chances that such a bet will play, but the winnings from it are multiplied by 35.

[yayasvalveplay]

YAYA IM BACK FROM WORK IM GLAD YOU GOT UNJAILED LETS GOOOOO 💕

Anyways I don't got much to say or post unfortunately 😭

just me with brainworms of random small stuff that I'm just gonna throw at you like a darts hope ya don't mind 💕 LIKE TRONUS NEHEHE

Alright for the DW Win AU, I was thinking of my sweet baby boy Tronus because im genuinely GENUINELY surprised that I hadn't talked about him in the au smh I must fix that 😤

Alright, I think that he absolutely almost DIED when he was born, Tronus was born tiny and unfortunately, in this au- his chest still gets fucked up 😔 the medics at the time didn't know the exact cause of why Tronus was born with a mutilated/melted chest; but their theory was that since Tronus was born after Optimus's 3rd miscarriage, the stress Optimus was in after losing the sparkling before Tronus had affected the boy. So when Optimus finally gave birth to Tronus, Megatron was there, he usually was when Optimus gave birth.

Immediately something was wrong, the medics were disturbed and immediately put Tronus in an incubator. The sparkling was clearly alive and crying... but it was the type of crying that sounded like he was in pain before it weakened.

Whatever glimpses Optimus had, Megatron fully saw and Optimus saw his shocked expression before he demanded the medics fix this now.... Optimus demanded begged to see his sparkling. But the medics refused, knowing it would cause Optimus to panic, so with Megatron's approval, they put him to stasis. It was already traumatic to have a miscarriage, but the knowledge of his baby already close to death right when he was just born would've broken Optimus.

Things are tense and quiet, especially for the siblings and sire. It's the first time, there is the knowledge that the baby could possibly die at any moment now from the damage.

When Optimus eventually wakes up again, the incubator is at his side. He sees Tronus, resting, his tiny face almost peaceful... but it finally fegisters to Optimus that the light illuminating his sparkling's face is the light from his tiny exposed spark, unguarded and wrapped in melted metal.

Fortunately Tronus does live, but since then when the medics couldn't find a way to fix him with causing direct damage to his spark. One of then even recommended grimly that it would be best to put the boy out of his misery. No one liked that

So he now wears a chest piece to cover his spark.

Oh Tronus. It is a shame we haven't talked about him in this au at all. It is a crime.

But ohh I can hear this. Hear Optimus's quiet voice after having just pushed out an alive baby. He knows it's alive because he can hear it screaming. He's demanding to see it, to hold them close to his own spark. And all he gets is worried looks. Hushed whispers to not worry.

But he's worrying. He's so much worrying. That's when he starts demanding to see his baby, where is the sparkling he just birthed? That's when Megatron gave them the ok to put him into a medical induced sleep.

I want to say he was asleep 3 days and in that time the medics constantly made sure Tronus had a watcher, and a medic on hand if his vitals were to drop. And only when he was deemed strong enough was he allowed to be placed hear Op and awake him from his sleep.

Optimus would roll onto his side, placing a soft and tender servo over his sparkling. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "He's alive." Megatron would say once he comes in seeing Op awake.

"He's hurt."

"The medics did what they could without damaging him."

"Will ge live?"

"Most likely. For a sparkling of mine, he will survive."

And as for the medic that suggested putting the boy out of his misery. He was met with an unhappy Sire. Who also had to watch his mate loose 3 sparklings because he didn't put in the precautions he should of had in the first place.

I could see Megatron grabbing that medics face and almost crushing it.

But he's alive and well. Sure he has to wear a chest piece cover. But it's a price to pay for not having his spark exposed to those who wished to harm the kids of Megatron.

[heyimkana]

I'm so happy you're back, Kana 🥺 I really missed you. I wanted to ask: what would Jinwoo do if he actually ended up hurting his lover (emotionally or physically)? Perfect as he is, I feel like Jinwoo can be really curt sometimes (especially in the manhwa). Maybe he's had a shit day and loses his temper, causing him to snap at her. The look of hurt on her pretty face has him regretting his words immediately. She's cold to him for the next few days and recoils from his touch.

I'm sorry this got so long; I just need Jinwoo desperate and begging for our forgiveness. Just because he's the shadow monarch, it doesn't mean he can treat his lover like that, bad day or not.

COURTNEYYYY HIIII I'm so glad I'm here again too 🥺 and I've missed you a lot babyyyy 😭🫶

I feel like jinwoo would NEVER physically hurt you. Like that man would actually rather chop off his own hands than lay a finger on you without your consent BUT I agree with you that he could wound your feelings (most likely without knowing or intending to do so).

He wouldn't like say mean things to you or anything, but he'd act cold and maybe he'd say something like "Do whatever you want, I don't care" and hearing those words coming from him would already feel like a slap because jinwoo always cared. He didn't mean to say things like that obviously. maybe like you said, he just had a shit day and he was so mentally and physically tired.

He wouldn't necessarily beg for your forgiveness, but he'd definitely apologize like a man. And he wouldn't waste time either. He wouldn't feel too prideful to say sorry. He knows what he did wrong, and he couldn't erase the pained look on your face when his words cut through you so he'd make sure he'd make it up to you.

He's not very good with words so he'd just straight up "I'm sorry I said that to you before. I wasn't thinking clearly. You did nothing wrong, and you didn't deserve to be treated like that. I'll make sure to be better next time. I promise." It usually worked perfectly because you could see the sincerity in his eyes but if for some reason you still gave him the cold shoulder after that, Jinwoo would use the love languages he knows the best: physical touch and gifts.

You were washing the dishes when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The hug was slow, careful—like he was afraid you'd shove him away. You didn’t say a word or even glance his way, so he rested his chin lightly on your shoulder, his voice low and apologetic. “You still mad at me?”

“No,” you said flatly. But you absolutely were. And he could tell.

Jinwoo didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to—he knew better. That would only piss you off more. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. Just one. Quiet and remorseful. One that said: I’m sorry I was a jerk.

Then his chin returned to your shoulder. “What do I need to do to make you feel better?”

“I’m not mad, Jin.”

“Can I take you dancing? Or maybe we can go to that bakery you like. I heard they’re making rosemary fougasse again. With sea salt. Your favorite.”

“They don’t. They only make those during Christmas.”

“Nope,” he murmured. “Pretty sure they were on display this morning.”

You sighed. You were in no mood to argue—especially not about bread. “Jin—”

But before you could say more, the shadows shifted around his feet, and one of his soldiers materialized, holding a box. He took it and held it out to you, the warm, buttery scent of rosemary hitting you first.

“See?” he said, smiling sweetly. “Fresh from the oven.”

Your eyes widened as you took the box. “How… how did you get these?”

“Let’s just say... nothing is off limits for a national-level hunter.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you threaten them to bake this?”

“No.” A pause. Then, quieter, “Beru did.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. “God, I can never win against you.”

He smiled softly, one hand rising to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone, and he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“Am I forgiven now?”

“No.”

But you pulled him down for a kiss anyway—slow and tender. One that said I love you for a thousand lifetimes.

And he kissed you back like he always had. Like he always would.

[verstappentime]

Max mutes the TV, hoping that will get Charles's attention, and doesn't look at him when he says, "I think I'm in love with Daniel." AKA: it's 2017. charles is max's best friend in the whole world. they're turning 20, max wins in malaysia, charles wins the f2 championship, and max needs to tell him something. also: a little coming of age precursor to my unfinished maxiel divorce fic.

maxiel + max & charles | hurt/comfort & dealing with their respective hard years | 3.4k

Max has not gotten to hug Charles in so long. That's what he's thinking when he stumbles down from the podium.

Just a few minutes ago, he was livid at Prema and their stupid safety car cockup. Then he was elated as Charles crossed the finish line, and he triple checked the points to confirm – he really is champion. Now, Max just wants to see him, desperately.

Someone takes the bottle of champagne from Charles, and Max makes his move, crashing bodily into him. Charles isn't like him – he doesn't freeze, just wraps both arms around Max and hangs on. 

He had been worried about Charles not having family here. But he's reminded, as that feeling of coming home blooms, that he does now. 

Neither of them say anything for a beat. Then Max, newly bigger and broader than Charles, hefts him up and spins him around and they both start screaming. "Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc–" Max stops to breathe. "You are the motherfucking 2017 F2 champion!"

Charles is breathless. He looks the happiest Max has seen him in four months. "Oh my god. Holy shit."

Charles has won a lot of championships in his life. But this one means the most. They both know it. 

Max sets him down. "Was that the French anthem?" 

Charles nods, pained. They manage to stay straight-faced for about five seconds.

It takes them a good two minutes to stop laughing. Max's ribcage actually hurts.

"I am so glad my dad was not here to see that," Charles says, once he's done gasping for air.  His smile twitches, though. Max pulls him back in for a hug.

"I am so proud of you, okay?" He presses his nose into Charles's hair, even though he's sticky all over with champagne. Herve would be proud, too, but Max will tell him that later, in private. 

Charles clings on. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it."

"Of course I made it. Did you hear what I said?" 

"Yeah." Charles's voice sounds wet. Max just keeps hugging him. "Thank you." 

"I mean it. You are so fucking crazy, oh my god," Max continues. "I don't know how you did that." Max had nearly looked away, that last lap with five cars on the back of him, not wanting to see Charles lose his win. Stupid to bet against him.

"I didn't lift the throttle," Charles says. His shoulders are shaking. Max can't tell if he's laughing or crying, but he thinks it's the second one. Max doesn't let go, incase he doesn't want anyone to see.

"Your tires were, like, a banana." 

"I know. I thought probably I would bin it." It's Charles who finally pulls back. He rubs his face with his sleeve, and Max wonders if he knows he's just smearing champagne around.

"I sent some videos to your mom, of the podium. I muted them." It gets Charles to laugh again. Max has more to say. He isn't good with words. "You're going to get the seat," he says. Maybe he shouldn't. But he's never been more certain. "You're going to race with me next year." 

"Better watch out, I guess," Charles says. 

&&&

Max got them a fancy hotel room. Having a lot of money is still weird, but he likes to spend it on stuff like this. He likes comfortable beds and having a lot of space and a big shower. He likes being able to bring Charles with him. 

It has two queen beds, even though he's shared a bed with Charles a thousand times before. He thought it would be nice. 

They're crowded on the same one for now, Max watching the history channel with subtitles on and Charles curled on his side, fucking around on his phone. He's getting congratulations from everyone he knows. Charles is popular. It's a lot of people.

After the sprint tomorrow, they'll find something to celebrate, but for now it's good to just. Be around someone who knows how to be around him. 

Max mutes the TV, hoping that will get Charles's attention, and doesn't look at him when he says, "I think I'm in love with Daniel." 

He's been wanting and wanting to tell Charles. He thought maybe when they both got back to Monaco. But it keeps trying to jump out of his throat, like he swallowed a fly or something.

He's never been nervous to tell him anything before, but as soon as it's out, his heart starts beating fast. Charles is taking too long to say something.

"Okay," Charles says, finally. He pushes himself up to sit beside Max. "That's okay."

Charles likes boys. Max has known this since they were twelve. But Max has only ever had a fleeting interest in anyone, and it's never been important, and– and now Daniel is important, and he has to think about it all. He doesn't want to.

"I don't know about being gay or whatever," he says. He still isn't looking at Charles. "I don't know if I am."

He's had sex with girls and he'd liked some of it but maybe not enough. He's had one weird hookup with a guy, a friend of Charles from school or something, after their birthday party last year. He liked that more but he was drunk and sleepy and they called it off after he sucked the guy's dick. Charles had been pissed that it happened while he was sleeping on the couch in the same flat and never asked Max any questions about it. He didn't want to dissect it then and he doesn't now. He just – liked that guy's dick, and he likes Daniel.

He knows what he likes to look at and think about, but only things in real life matter. 

"Okay," Charles says again. His voice is careful. "That's fine. We can skip that." There's a hand, gentle on his wrist. "I knew there was something going on with you." 

Max has been a little off, he knows that. He wants to talk about Daniel all the time and he's worried that he'll do it too much, so sometimes he just doesn't say anything. Charles asks about his day and he tries to sum it up: The team went to this, the team went to that. I'm tired. It was a long day. The car is shit. The car isn't shit. Something something. Charles has asked if he's okay. Max has been trying to be okay whenever Charles asks, this year. 

"I don't know if I– if I'm in love with him," he says, and his voice cracks. He finally lets himself look at Charles, needing, suddenly, to see acceptance on his face. He's the same as always, big green eyes soft. Max tries to say the next part quickly. "I know he's older than me and stuff. I don't want it to be true but I think it is." 

Charles moves so he's sitting in front of Max, criss-cross, and squeezes his ankle. "It's okay if it's true. You'll figure it out. I'll help."

"I think it's true," Max says. He wants to cry. 

"It's okay if you like him. It's good to love someone." Charles keeps his hand on Max's ankle. Touch has always been instinctual for him. Max has never been like that. "I wish you weren't hiding this from me."

"I wanted to tell you. I was waiting." 

"You told me now. It's okay." 

"It feels weird," Max says. He is really hoping he doesn't cry. He can't be crying over his teammate. He has to see him in a few days, at the factory. 

"It is weird," Charles says. He was always in love, when they were kids. Max never was. 

"I used to think I was in love with you. When we were like, thirteen," Max says. He can say it now because he knows it's not true.

"Yeah, I know." Charles is grinning at him. It's the way he looks when everything's going to be okay. "You were always staring at me with your weird bug eyes." 

"I just thought maybe," Max says, and he coughs out a laugh. "But then I realised you are so annoying and I didn't want to kiss you." 

"And you do love me," Charles says, shrugging. "That's different. Do you want to kiss Daniel?" 

That's easy. "Yes. I want to so much. And always I want him to talk to me and be near me and I get jealous if he's not. Or when we go to these things and he doesn't have time for me. And if he helps me with my helmet or something I want to throw up." 

"But it feels nice too, yeah?" Charles is searching his face. 

"Yeah. It feels nice." 

"Okay. Then it's a good thing." A lot of the time, Max feels like he's too old for everyone his age. But Charles has grown up a lot the past three years. He looks so much older than nearly twenty, right now. Calm and sure. It's soothing. It's that grating two weeks where they're not the same age. But maybe Max can be the younger one for a moment. 

"I want it to be a good thing," he says, and he sounds small and more unsure than he ever hears himself.

"You aren't not telling me stuff, right?" Charles lays his hand on Max's shoulder. "Max? Because of– because of Papa and everything?"

"I—" He's just trying to be okay when Charles asks. He doesn't know how to say that. I would die before I would make this worse for you, maybe. He chews at the cuticle on his thumb. "I haven't told anyone," he says, lamely. Charles just keeps watching him. He doesn't move his hand. He looks like he's caught Max doing something he shouldn't. "You had a championship to focus on," Max tries. 

"I won it now. So now you will talk to me, yes?" 

"Yeah." Max swallows. He'll have to. He wants to talk about Daniel all the fucking time. He's not that strong. He tries to let Charles's touch be comforting. He's in love with Daniel and someone knows. Charles knows. He wants to hear more about it. He's not angry. It's good. It should feel good. "Can you tell me how it's okay again?" He's needed to hear it so long. So, so long. 

Charles looks sad. "Come here." He untangles himself so he can flop onto his back. It's been a long time since they could do this, since Max could curl up perpendicular with his head in Charles's lap. It's nice and he didn't want to ask for it. 

Maybe if he has a boyfriend one day they won't do this anymore. He wants one but only if it's Daniel. Maybe Daniel won't care. 

Charles scratches his scalp, the way his mom does, when he's too tired to even talk with her when he comes home. Probably Charles did it first. He didn't see his mom for a long time. "It's okay," Charles says. "It's okay. It's a good thing, Max." 

He breathes. Daniel is a good thing. Max will be able to talk about it now. That's going to be better. Maybe it can feel like something new growing in his chest instead of something festering. "It's stupid," he says, just so Charles will tell him it isn't.

Charles says, "Loving someone is never stupid." He hesitates for a second. "I keep– all the time thinking about how life is short. You know. Because Jules– and Papa– It's. What's the word in English? Like I am obsessed?" 

Max's chest tightens. He wishes he could see him. Charles doesn't see life as fair or unfair, but Max does, and Charles hurting is fucking unfair. "Yeah, that's the word," he says.

"Anyway," Charles says, after a long, shaky moment. "All the time, I think about it. And I think if you love someone it is going to be a waste of time to pretend that you don't, or say it's stupid." 

He sounds grown up. Really, really grown up. He sounds right, like Max should trust him, the blind way a child does. "Okay," he says, quiet, like a secret. "I might not tell him though."

Charles starts petting his hair again. Max really hopes he hasn't made him sad. "What about Malaysia?" he asks, and he sounds normal. "Was it fun, with him?" 

Max tells him about the day of his real  birthday, about how they couldn't go out because of the race the next day but the team brought him a cake. It was Daniel who brought it out to him. Maybe it was his idea, Max doesn't know. But he looked happy. He said something about how it would be nice not to have a teenage teammate anymore, but not in a mean way. It felt like he was excited about Max's birthday, too.

"And everyone was so happy that I won," Max says. "Daniel was, even though he didn't win. He said it was like a birthday present, except for I earned it." Max's dad has been angry at him, about the season being shit. The win wasn't good enough for him and he didn't call, but his mom had been really happy, and Daniel had, too, and Christian, and GP. Charles had called. It was nice. It felt good, when Daniel hugged him and said he'd done an incredible job.

"You both looked really happy on the podium," Charles says. "You have some nice pictures now." 

"I saved them in my phone," Max admits. They do look really happy. He thinks sometimes he's the happiest he's been, when he's around Daniel. Winning, and with Daniel. He feels bad thinking it, when he's here with Charles– but it's different. Love feels different. 

Charles doesn't say it's weird or anything. "Good. Then you can look at them." 

He peppers Max with questions about their night out on Sunday, for his birthday and for the double podium. He talks about how they had an expensive team dinner and GP said some nice stuff about him before they had another cake. Charles stops him. "What kind of stuff?" 

"I don't know. Like about how all of his wins have been with me and it's special." He'd said how Max is really kind off the track and people don't always know that. He'd said he's the most talented driver he's known, and Max had thought maybe that was unfair, because Daniel was sitting there, but it had felt– really good. He doesn't want to tell Charles all of it. That can be his to keep.

Charles hums. "Okay, and then what?" 

"Me and Daniel and some of the guys went out to a club. You would have liked it. I– I wanted to kiss him a lot. The whole time. But I didn't. But it was good. I liked that he was there." Max feels around for his phone, unlocks it and passes it up to Charles. "You can look at the pictures. Some of them are funny." 

"I will kill you if there's nudes in here," Charles says. Max reaches back to wack him on the arm. 

"There are no fucking–" 

"I don't know, Max, I'm pretty sure that is a dick." Charles sounds deadly serious.

Max flips himself over. He doesn't even have time to panic before he sees the wicked grin on Charles's face, and lunges at him.

"Give me that, you shithead, oh my god–" Charles holds the phone aloft so Max can't get it. 

"Oh, hey." Charles bats at Max, half-hearted. "Daniel texted you." 

"No he didn't, you fucking liar." Max pushes himself up so they're level. Charles looks thoughtful, squinting at the screen like he's reading something. Maybe he's not– "Charles. Come on. It's not funny." 

Charles passes the phone to him. He's smiling. "I think I like him very much." 

There is, after all, a text from Daniel. It's a picture of his laptop screen. It's got the F2 race on, Charles in P1, with the whole pack behind him, just before the finish line. INSANE race, mate!! Tell him congrats from me!! That's my ROTY vote in the bag!! We are screwed when he comes to F1 tho. Hope you're having fun, England wet and boring.

Daniel likes exclamation points a lot. He likes making texts longer than they maybe have to be, and adding irrelevant details at the end. Max didn't ask about England. But he likes that Daniel wants him to know. He likes that Daniel watched Charles's race, and acknowledges how fucking good he is. He likes Daniel so, so much.

"That was nice," Max says. It sounds stupid.

"Text him back," Charles says. "Tell him I am the best driver in the whole world, and if he sends nudes you can show those to me." 

Max glares. "I will tell him your IQ is seven, so he doesn't have to worry." 

"I don't even know what that means," Charles says, but he sing-songs it, which means he's pretending. He speaks English perfectly fine, until Max is insulting him.

Max ignores him. He tries to sound normal in his response, like he hasn't just confessed he's in love with Daniel outloud for the first time ever.

Charles says thnx!! Prema are stupid idiots, I cannot believe he won. Glad I made it. Be in MK Monday, think of a good prank for GP. He wants to put a heart, but that feels stupid. It's just. He wants Daniel to know.

Something new happened today. Something changed. You changed me. You might never know, but you did. He can't communicate that with a fucking emoji.

Eventually, he puts three little race cars and the tranquil looking smiley face, and passes the phone back to Charles. 

Charles flips through the pictures without being a fucking dick. He laughs at the ones of Max eating limes at the bar, because he was fucked up and thought that's what they were for. Daniel snapped one of Max passed out in the taxi that Charles sends to himself. "I will think of a use for it later, there is a joke there," he says.

"You're annoying," Max says, but doesn't protest. It will probably be funny.

Charles scrolls some more. "Max," he says, quiet and serious. "Did you see this one?" 

When he gives Max the phone, there's a picture of him and Daniel on the screen. His forehead is pressed against Daniel's shoulder, Daniel's hand light on his back. They're laughing, and they look really, really happy. "I didn't look at the ones with Daniel. I didn't know if– if maybe they were embarrassing." Max presses his thumb to the picture, like he could transfer himself back into that moment.

"They're not embarrassing," Charles says. "It just looks like you love him." 

&&& 

Prema fucks up again, and Charles is P7 on Sunday. Neither of them care. Max takes him out for his birthday. He's a world champion. Even if it's been hard to carve out good moments this year, it's a fucking good one.

Charles hugs him extra tight when he leaves for the airport, hungover and dreading going round and round in the sim. "You'll talk to me," Charles says, not a question. 

"I will. Promise." Max pulls him back in for another hug. "I'm so fucking proud of you. Just–" It's hard to leave him every time. To think about the bad days coming and going without Max there. But Charles has other friends. He has his family. "Just. I'll see you soon." 

Charles presses his face against Max's shoulder, just for a second, and then he lets go. He doesn't like to say goodbye, and it's not for that long anyway, so he doesn't. 

Later, Charles texts him a screenshot. It's of a guy who sort of looks like Robin Williams but isn't. There's movie captions on it. Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. He always does stuff like this. Sends Max quotes and sports highlights and things, little bits of wisdom anywhere he can find them. Max likes to text all the time, but mostly stupid shit. Charles is always with the drama. 

This one, though. He sits in his plane seat and reads it a few more times. Charles writes underneath: Not stupid. Don't ignore it ❤️❤️

Max reads it again. The not-Robin-Williams guy isn't wrong.

He sends back: I'll try, and makes the picture of him and Daniel his background.

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Game Informer reporter Wesley LeBlanc has mentioned that he will not be at the DA@SDCC stuff [source]

Saira: "i won’t lie, my very first council note for lucanis was “can’t wait to fuck puss in boots”" [source]

Jay: "And you killed it!" [on Alex Jordan's - one of the actors of Rook - post announcing his role in the game] [source]

Ashe: "say it with your chest HELL YEAH HE DOES" (context: Council members sharing that Lucanis' voice in-game does indeed sound like the actor's Spanish reel video) [source]

Erika Ishii might sneak into the actor panel at SDCC [source]

A user asked "when are the announcements of the different languages voices?" An EA Community Manager replied "We’re not ready to reveal everyone quite yet, but stay tuned!". [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, the ask-bioware channel is for questions folks may have for BioWare. they can't guarantee that all questions put there will be answered, but if you have one it's still worth popping it in there as the channel helps them "for future Q&A sessions and the like" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about pre-orders. An EA CM replied "Not yet announced!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about the release date. An EA CM replied "I wish I could. Gotta keep it under wraps until it's ready though!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

EA CM Violet: "always stirring in the bioware lighthouse. hard working team full of passion ❤️" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

A user said regarding the talent lineup for Rook's actors, "This entire lineup is INCREDIBLE." Corinne: "So glad you like it! 😊" [source]

Ghil Dirthalen shared that she thinks Bellara "rocks- so excited for people to meet her ❤️" [source]. She also mentioned that Bellara isn't really like Peebee from Mass Effect: Andromeda [source]

Ghil also shared non-DA voice clips of the companion actors that she thinks sound most like their voices as-used for the companions in DA:TV. This is the clip shared for Taash, although it's not super-close as Caitie had trouble finding a clip of this actor. "but their voice in DAV is a lot more dead pan? In a good way though- Taash is fun!" [source]

This is the clip shared for Emmrich. "this is closer to the Emmrich voice than the other clip ive seen floating about. I would say less cartoony than this performance, but with the same voice??" [source]

Malcolm on Emmrich: "you might have to buy him dinner or something first. He's a classy guy." [source]

Bryce: "someone on Tumblr who follows me for dragon age content called this the Veilbus and I'm-" [source]

John Epler is heading to SDCC [source]

John on the recent Game Informer video: "not shown - the piece of wood digging into my spine for 45 minutes as i filmed this. me after: 'yeah i had a piece of wood digging in between two of my vertebrae' them: 'why didn't you say something?' me: 'i was on a roll and i didn't want to lose it'" [source, two]

Trick: "I thought I knew who I was romancing in DAI until the first time I heard Sera giggle. I suggest pinballing wildly between whoever strikes your fancy as you learn more about the characters until the game comes out and then seeing who wins your heart!" [source]

User: "I was wondering about tavern songs in DAI. There’s a song for Samson, but not for Calpernia. I was wondering if there was an in-universe reason for that, or if it was due to real world limitations?" Trick: "I think the tavern songs were about what the lyricist found interesting, so they weren't a sign that Samson or Sera or Harding was more important than anyone else." [source]

[estapa-edwards]

WAITING FOR HIM---- N.HISCHIER

paring: nico hischier x fem! reader

word count: 1k

requested? yes - maybe he comes back to your apartment after a loss and you’re asleep and you hear him come in and you wake up and it’s just super fluffy 

warnings: use of y/n.

The living room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a table lamp casting a warm light on the couch where Y/N sits. The clock on the wall ticks away, its hands inching closer to midnight. A hockey game blares from the TV, the commentator's voice echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

Y/N shifts on the couch, her eyes flicking to the clock again. She checks her phone, no new messages. Sighing softly, she wraps herself tighter in the blanket draped over her legs.

"He should be home by now." y/n thought to herself. She rests her head against the back of the couch, her eyes heavy from the long day. She fights to keep them open, wanting to greet Nico when he walks through the door.

The TV's noise becomes a distant hum as Y/N's eyelids grow heavier. Slowly, her breathing deepens, and the rhythmic sound of her soft snores fills the room. 

The room is still dimly lit, the TV now showing the end credits of the hockey game. The front door clicks softly as it opens, revealing Nico, carrying his hockey gear and looking disappointed. He enters cautiously, trying not to disturb the peaceful sleep of Y/N on the couch.Nico tiptoes around the living room, his movements slow and deliberate. He sets his hockey gear down gently near the door and takes a moment to watch Y/N sleep. Her face is relaxed, a soft smile playing on her lips even in her dreams. 

Y/N stirs, her eyelids fluttering open slowly. She looks up to see Nico standing over her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and disappointment.

"Hi Nico, how was the game?"

"Hey, it was... tough. We lost."

Y/n sat up rubbing her eyes “"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

nico takes a seat next to her ‘’Yeah, it was a rough one. But seeing you here when I got home makes it a little better." 

Y/N gives Nico a soft smile, touched by his words. "I'm always here for you, win or lose. Do you want to talk about the game?"

Nico sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, not really. It's frustrating, you know? We practiced so hard, but things just didn't click today."

She reaches out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I understand. Sometimes things just don't go the way we want them to. But you gave it your best, and that's what matters." 

He looks at her, his eyes searching hers.‘Thank you, Schatzi, Your support means everything to me." She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll always be your biggest fan, Nico." He smiles, the weight on his shoulders seeming to lighten a bit. "I know, and I'm grateful for that."

"Do you want me to cook you dinner?" y/n asked. Nico's eyes light up at the offer, appreciating the gesture of care and comfort from Y/N. "That sounds wonderful, Y/N. Thank you." "i can help if you want." nico exclaimed. Y/N smiles warmly at Nico's offer, touched by his willingness to help. "That would be great, Nico. Cooking together could be fun."

Nico nods, eager to contribute and spend time with Y/N. "Alright, what are we making?"

Y/N thinks for a moment, then suggests, "How about we make some homemade pasta? It's comforting and I know you love it."

Nico grins, "Sounds perfect. Let's do it."

They head into the kitchen together, Y/N taking the lead with the pasta dough while Nico offers to prepare a simple tomato sauce. Working side by side, they quickly fall into a rhythm, laughing and chatting as they cook.

As they finish preparing the meal, Nico looks over at Y/N with a smile. "Thanks for letting me help, Y/N. It was actually really fun."

Y/N smiles back, wiping her hands on a towel. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Cooking together was a nice way to unwind and spend time together."

They plate up the pasta and sauce, sitting down at the dining table to enjoy the meal they've made together. The atmosphere is relaxed and cheerful, the earlier disappointment of the game now a distant memory as they focus on their shared meal and the joy of each other's company. 

After enjoying their meal and cleaning up the kitchen together, Nico and Y/N decide it's time to head to bed. The earlier fatigue from the long day still lingers, and they both look forward to a good night's sleep.

As they enter the bedroom, Y/N begins to change into her pajamas, while Nico takes care of his nightly routine. The atmosphere is calm and comfortable, a stark contrast to the tension of the hockey game earlier.

Once they're both ready for bed, Y/N climbs into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Nico joins her, wrapping his arms around her as they settle into a comfortable position.

"Tonight was really special, Nico," Y/N whispers, her eyes meeting his in the dim light of the bedroom.

Nico smiles, brushing a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "It was. Cooking together and spending this quiet time with you was exactly what I needed after today."

Y/N snuggles closer to Nico, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. "I'm glad we could make the best of a tough day. I love you, Nico."

Nico tightens his hold around Y/N, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I love you too, Schatzi. Thank you for always being my rock."

In the stillness of the night, with Y/N in his arms, Nico feels a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. The disappointments of the day fade away as they focus on their shared love and the comfort of each other's presence.

[the-artist-grimm]

stopping by to say a few things. one, i love your crimson angel au. it's a fun and different take on how things work with canon and how things can be changed accordingly. two, love your art style. i can't explain it, but i just really like the way everyone's drawn. three. AWWWW short lamb! no worries anthea, i'm short myself, so you have good company! four. has anyone challenged anthea, nona or narinder to a cook off? five. fave type of music for everyone? like ballads, etc/ have a good day!

First off, thank you so much!!!!!!! I'm glad you're enjoying my stuff :D And hehehe-the idea of someone super short taking on and winning against 5 massive gods is just very funny for me, I like tiny but mighty protagonists

Now hm a cook off-I think no one would dare trying to face off against Nona-cooking is her domain. Probably only Heket eventually would try, and even then lose to the old lady's might.

Music (Just doing the cats and the lamb for simplicity's sake XD. Also adding links so people can you know...check out all the reallyyyyy good songs hehehe):

The Lamb, Anthea: Indie-Folk (Anything Crane Wives (Never Love an Anchor, Allies or Enemies) Alternate/Indie Pop (Live Cinema, Espresso, Cabo, Snow) Vocaloid-y? Like the kind of depressing/sad-ish tracks you come across in vocaloid type songs (Kokoronashi, Rest in Peace, Soundless Voice) Narinder: Progressive Metal and Rock. I personally think he'd love Sleep Token with how heavy their lyrics are, Euclid, Atlantic, and Alkaline would likely be some of his favs. The band Starset too with Perfect Machine, Alchemy, and Die for You. Aym and Baal: Nightcore and especially Vocaloid. They're 11 year olds that's like starting middle school age, there's a reason they were Rin and Len for Halloween XD . When I was in middle school I'd just discovered Youtube and was recording those songs onto my 3Ds via the camera to listen on car- trips since I didn't have an MP3 LOL. For specifics: -Aym: Leans to more edgy/loud tracks but sometimes the sillier ones too. Tokyo Teddy Bear, Matryoshka, Death Should Not Have Taken Thee, Ghost Rule -Baal: Leans to more happy and energetic tracks. Popipo, The Snow White Princess , Tell Your World, Drop Pop Candy

...I definitely didn't just give them all my music tastes what are you talking about (trips and falls over playlists)

Anyhoo...have a good day to you as well! (and my apologies for the delay KEKW)

[spee-eeeeee]

“Welcome our house! My misty”

Tomas (a little bit like Yandere)x female reader

I wrote this in Japanese and then translated it into English with Google Translate, so I've edited it but apologize if there are any mistakes! I hope you like this,,,

Warning: kidnapping

An unfamiliar ceiling spreads out before your eyes. Where on earth are you? Yesterday, you were sure you had been sleeping in your room like usual. But when you woke up, you found yourself self lying on a bed with clean white sheets. A blanket had even been carefully placed over you. You looked around, and saw a teddy bear on the edge of the bed, two small tables and chairs nearby, and no windows in the room. And a wooden door.

　Stay calm, don't panic. There's nothing good to come from being in a hurry. Everything will be okay,,,,First, you took a deep breath to calm your palpitations. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. You felt a little better. Luckily, your hands and feet weren't chained or tied with rope. You got off the bed and touched the doorknob, but of course it wasn't unlocked. There wasn't much furniture in the room, so there was nowhere to look for anything, and you couldn't find any clues to escape from this room. There was nothing you could do, so you reluctantly sat on the bed and sighed.

　Suddenly, you heard the sound of the door in front of you unlocking. You could only stare at the door as it creaked in surprise. Then, a man stepped in.

"Good morning, sweetheart ,,,,you're awake! How are you feeling?"

The man asked you as if you were lover, as if you'd known each other for a long time. Even though it was your first meeting.

"Who are you? Did you kidnap me here?"

You couldn't help but ask. You never know what someone might do if you provoke them. The man was visibly muscular, and if he hit you even once, you’re sure you would lose consciousness easily. Perhaps seeing your confused and impatient expression, the man began to introduce himself.

"I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Tomas. Sorry for being rough with you. But I don't mean to hurt you."

　Even if you make a big fuss and try to escape, you won't be able to win against this man. You have no choice but to obey him obediently.

"Are you hungry? I made breakfast for you! I'll bring it to you so wait a moment."

　He said, and left the room. Of course, the door was locked again.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the door being unlocked again, and Tomas came into the room with a smile on his face, carrying a tray. He put it on the table, sat down in the chair opposite, and looked at me. He said with a slightly shy smile.

"I hope it's good."

On the tray were an egg omelet with ketchup, a colorful vegetable salad, steaming hot soup, and water. If this wasn't the place where the kidnapper...you mean, Tomas, had brought you, what an exciting breakfast it would have been. No one would want to eat something made by a kidnapper. It wouldn't be surprising if there was something foreign in it. Suspicious medicine... But you thought it would be bad if you didn't eat here and upset Tomas, so you reluctantly moved to the seat opposite.

　you prepared myself, and took the omelette. The fluffy egg spread in my mouth. It wasn't bad at all, in fact the opposite. The soup had a mild taste. The salad dressing seemed homemade, but it was very well made. You didn't want to admit it, but you had to admit that it was delicious. When you finished eating your breakfast, Tomas said happily.

"I'm glad you like my cooking. From today you'll be living here! And as your lover, I'll do anything to make you comfortable my misty,,,"

Living is the wrong word to locking you in. And he just called you his "lover." You couldn't keep up.

"Well, I'm going to go and clean up this."

While you were thinking about what he was going to do, he gently pulled me to him and kissed your forehead. You were frozen in shock, but he picked up the tray and left the room. You didn't have time to feel disgusted. All you could do was stand there.

Part2↓

[ordinaryschmuck]

You know, Phineas and Ferb's finale being more about Candace and Doofenshmirtz instead of Phineas, Ferb, or even Perry is fascinating. Because, when you really think about it, Candace and Doof are the REAL heart of the show, the characters that actually have some stakes in the plot. Phineas, Ferb, and Perry always win, that's a fact. The only times when they come close to losing or actually HAVE something to lose are often in the formula shaking episodes/specials/movies. For Candace and Doof, they often have something to lose. Candace fails to bust her brothers and Doof fails to take over the Tri-State Area. Not a great goal, but the series and the finale do great in showing why they want it. Candace just wants to show her mother she isn't crazy and that the boys DO get into some dangerous stuff from time to time. And Doof wants to take control to validate his own horrid existence. Even in episodes where he plays kickball to beat his brother or trying in vein to impress his awful father supports that idea before Vanessa spells it out for the audience in this finale. So the final episode is less about the boys or Perry going on one last adventure and more about giving Candace and Doof one last chance to get what they've been fighting for.

What's most interesting is how the finale gives Doofenshirtz what he thinks he wants while giving Candace...perspective. Admittedly, that's kind of cheap. If I could dock points from the finale, I WOULD wish that Candace DID bust the boys only for time to reset again and THAT'S when she realizes she has to stop the loop or that it's too dangerous. Then again, it IS good that she doesn't, as the purpose for Candace's story is to learn that her obsession to bust the boys is unhealthy, being a detriment to herself and, this time, to others. Being unable to let go and allow the boys to have fun and to allow HERSELF to take it easy on the very LAST day of summer. None of this would have happened if she just let it go, and I'm glad that it's HER that ends up having to stop the loop when it was Candace that started it in the first place.

As for Doof, he DOES get what he wants...but fails to get what he NEEDS. He wanted to be in power, he wanted to be better than his brother, and he wanted to prove he WASN'T a loser. For a bit, it's actually kind of satisfying to see him win for once, especially when he taunts Roger. When you know how much Doof went through and how easy Roger had it in life, you can't help but appreciate him getting this victory...only for the finale to cleverly make a point that it's not what he NEEDS in life. He needed a healthy relationship with his daughter and be better than the ungrateful parents he had growing up. In fact, he needed to be better in general, and I like that he chooses to be a good guy instead of being evil. What I like even more is that he didn't really STOP the time loop, showing that he's just as ineffective as being good as he is being evil. Maybe it even hints that being good is another case of him acting off of what he WANTS instead of what he NEEDS? I don't know, that's a discussion for another time.

In short, it's actually brilliant that the finale is more about Doof and Candace. In the end, they get one more chance for victory only to learn that they were going about things the wrong way and it's best to TRY to be better...The message is harmed by the revival bringing them back to basics, but hopefully the writers will have something planned for them...Hopefully.

[dr-spectre]

Ranting about Salmon Run...

As someone who loves this mode and thinks it's the best multiplayer mode in Splatoon 3. The scale system in it is dogshit and needs to change in the next game. It's genuinely awful and terrible game design in my opinion.

In order to get scales you must encounter a King Salmonid, the amount of scales you get is determined by your current rank and if you win or lose. Now to even get to a King Salmonid, you must do several matches to increase the chance of encountering one. Guess how long each Salmon Run match is... 300 seconds/5 minutes. Actually it's a little bit longer than that because you have to take into account queuing times, the wait time at the start of the match and the 10 seconds you get to prepare in each round.

Let's say you need to do 5 matches to even encounter the King Salmonid, you have to go through a little over 25 to 30 MINUTES to get a CHANCE to fight the king. AND GUESS WHAT! EVEN IF THE ICON IS FULL! THERE'S STILL A CHANCE YOU WON'T EVEN GET TO FIGHT A KING!!! WHY!??!? WHY IS IT LIKE THAT!??! I WENT THROUGH 5 MATCHES WHEN THE BAR WAS FULL AND YET I DIDN'T ENCOUNTER A KING AT ALL!!!! IT WAS A GIANT WASTE OF TIME!!!!!! (aside from ability chunks i guess) I GOT OTHER GAMES TO PLAY!!!!!

This icon is a fucking lie, a god damn lie i tell you! Even if it's full, your other teammates have to have theirs full as well apparently. So.. YAY! AWESOME! ughhhh........

Now let's talk about when you actually get the scales, there's a very high chance you will get barely any scales because you lost and you're in a low rank, OR, you won't get a single gold scale for several Xtrawaves. Meaning you have to go through the process of building up the meter again and again AND AGAIN to get a chance to get a single fucking gold scale. Do you see the issue here? The insanely long grind? It's fucking horrible.

Oh yeah and by the way, the chance of you getting a gold scale gets higher when you're in a higher rank, however this becomes an issue when you realise that the higher ranks are REALLY REALLY hard and it's near impossible to make it to the Xtrawave unless you have an amazing team. So yeah, good luck trying to maintain a high rank and actually beat the King Salmonid to get a chance of getting a gold scale!!!!!!!

Man... This is giving me a god damn headache.

Now, let's talk about the rewards you get. I'm gonna come right out and say it, you are never EVER getting any of these rewards.

Unless you actually hack the game or you abandon every aspect of your life just to get a bunch of fucking pngs for your splashtag, you will never EVER EVER EVER GET THEM! They are flat out impossible and if you see someone have any of these, they are a hacker and need to get reported.

And the gear that people actually want, well... LOOK AT THIS!

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY 800 BRONZE SCALE ITEMS!??! WHY?!?!?! WHYYYY?!!?!? Sometimes in Xtrawaves you may not even get 10 OF THESE! SO WHY MAKE IT TO WHERE MOST OF THE GEAR PEOPLE ACTUALLY WANT 800 GOD DAMN SCALES??!? If you got like 30 or 50 each time then maybe it would make sense, BUT NO! IT'S LIKE 5 TO 12!! WHYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have been playing this game since launch and i only have the Octoleet Armor. THAT IS IT! There is a difference between rewarding the player and just doing monotonous grinding.

I am glad that Splatoon doesn't do what other games do nowadays and just has microtransactions to skip through grinding and pay an insane fee for currency. But like... Overwatch 2 is less grindy than this, you can comfortably get skins in that game for characters you like just by doing challenges and playing a bit of the game every day, and that game has SKINS THAT COST 58 BUCKS AUD!

That's all i wanted to say, I'm getting a headache just typing this because my god man, this is just awful game design and a poor way of rewarding the player and keeping retention time. Truly awful.