#never been so into a fictional character before

[requiemforthepoets]

you just pulled a verstappen! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you played a sim racing before, but not really on an actual sim racing setup like lando’s. so when you had the chance, you decided to try it out.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, fluff, and a little bit of cursing

WORD COUNT: 820

AUTHOR’S NOTE: found this on my drafts. i have a lot of lando one shots, but never really posted it bc i think it was poorly written, so i decided to fix this one up and post it. i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

Your and Lando’s apartment was unusually quiet. Lando had been out all day, caught up in a string of meetings, and being alone in a big apartment, the boredom had started to creep in. You sighed, glancing over at Lando’s pristine sim racing setup, which sat there like a tempting invitation calling out for you. It wasn’t like you had not played sim racing before, but using his rig, specifically with Lando’s custom settings and all his tweaks? That was something else entirely.

“Eh, why the hell not?” You muttered to yourself with a mischievous grin.

You quickly booted-up Lando’s setup, and you were off. You found yourself in the middle of a tense Grand Prix, the roaring of the virtual engines filling up the headphones as you become very absorbed with the race. Time flew by, and you were too focused to even notice when Lando came home.

“Hey, baby! I’m back!” Lando’s voice echoed faintly from the hallways as he called back to you, and you never responded. All you could hear and think about was the hairpin turn coming up on the circuit, and nailing the turn. “Babe, where are you?” He called out to you again, but you were still glued to the screen, the intensity of the race drawing all of your attention.

A few seconds later, Lando still got no answer from you. So when he checked every room in the apartment, and saw that you were inside his gaming room all along, he entered immediately, but when he saw you, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, fully immersed in sim racing, eyes locked on the screen with his headphones on and hand deftly handling the steering wheel. He blinked, half in disbelief, before grinning like a little kid on christmas morning.

“Are you on my sim setup right now?” He asked, voice full of shock, but you were too busy overtaking another car to reply.

“Okay, that was a decent corner,” Lando said with a playful smirk as he walked over to you, leaning against the back of the chair. “Not bad at all.” He added, folding his arms, and watching in awe as you navigated through the pack of cars.

You heard him, of course, but you were in the zone. The next thing you knew, you pulled off a move that would have made Max proud, sliding past two cars with precision that even caught Lando off guard.

“Whoa, that was a Verstappen move!” Lando exclaimed, wide-eyed. “You just did a Verstappen! Are you sure you don’t want to join F1? Because honestly, what the hell was that?!”

A smirk just tugged at the corner of your lips, definitely proud of yourself, but you remained focused, determined to finish the race without breaking concentration. Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your intense expression.

“Alright, I need to record this one,” Lando chuckled, pulling out his phone. “No one’s gonna believe me if I told everyone on Thread that my girl just pulled a Verstappen move, unless I post it.”

“Look at this! My girl’s out here stealing my setup and driving like she’s been on F1!” Lando began as he started filming, making sure to capture the moment as you powered through the final lap, and zooming in on your face, grinning the whole time. “Guys, I’m telling you, I’m not really making this up. She’s actually faster than me on some of these corners!”

You barely heard him as you crossed the finish line, finishing in P1, and the sound of the crowd roaring through the headphones as you finally relaxed in the chair. You let out a squeal of happiness and looked over at Lando, who was still recording and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay, what was that?” He laughed at you, turning off the camera. “I leave for a few hours, and suddenly you’re doing Verstappen-level moves on my rig? Are you secretly practicing whenever I’m not home?”

“Maybe I’m just naturally talented, ever think of that?” You looked at him smugly, and wiggled your eyebrows as you teased him.

“You know what?” Lando grinned at you, gently pulling you out of the seat and wrapping his arms around you. “I believe it. I’m just saying, if McLaren ever needs a backup driver, you should really think about it.”

“Babe, that’s Pato’s job, and I won’t take that away from him,” you joked, causing Lando to laugh, and you leaned into his embrace. “I’m just kidding! But…I might steal your sim setup more often.”

“Deal,” Lando chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Just don’t make me look too bad, alright?”

“No promises.” You said cheekily, then grinning up at him.

“Alright, alright,” he smiled at you. “Now where’s my kiss.” You leaned in, and kissed him softly on the lips.

[demilypyro]

You may say content creators are a dime a dozen, but you still stand out among them. I already enjoyed your stuff, but after today you are actually my hero.

The way you chose to entertain people in order to help them, despite everything going on, is something I've only seen in fiction before today. I love that archetype of character, I've tried to embody that behavior in communities I was involved in, and now I've seen someone exhibit that belief in real life, with real success in doing so.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Even if you don't see why you're special, other people do.

I'm grateful that you see me that way. Honestly, it all comes from a place of having struggled with depression for most of my life, and wanting to lighten that load for others.

When things were hard, it was often watching let's plays that got me through the day. Simple escapism, but as a shared experience. Enjoying media together with an audience, appreciating it together, laughing at its ups and downs.... I came to really admire that. So being able to do that myself, sharing that with others, and being able to make it my job... I've really been feeling like I'm where I belong, and tonight has made that feeling stronger than ever.

I'm not very smart. I can't cure diseases or invent new solutions to the world's problems. I don't really understand politics or people. I'll never change the world in any major way. But if what I do can make one person's day a little better, then I'm happy to do it. I want to provide simple joy when things are hard. I want to be a light in the darkness. For anyone and everyone.

[the-badger-mole]

I've seen people criticize Zuko for not taking the opportunity to kill Ozai during the eclipse but expecting Aang, a 12 y.o. pacific monk to do that instead. He was called hypocritical for being unsympathetic towards his unwillingness to take a life when he himself couldn't. I do like Zuko and tend to side with him ( post redemption ofc ) over Aang, but that seems like a valid take, I don't think I have a counter-argument to that.What is your opinion on It ? Also, what do you think was the in-universe reason for Zuko to make such a decision? He said that It's not his destiny, do you think there was any other reason for It? Is he not wrong for not doing It just bc of destiny since It's just an abstract concept and the stakes were really high ( plus It's against the show's message about shaping your own destiny) ?

Maybe I'm reading this wrong, but it sounds like the people criticizing Zuko for not killing Ozai when he had the chance wanted Aang to do it? That doesn't sound like a contradiction, so I'm not sure if that's how you meant it?

Aside from that, I can only speak for myself. I understand why Zuko didn't kill Ozai. I also understand why Aang didn't want to. What my problem with the resolution for that was that it was the first time Aang seems to have even thought about what ending the war would entail. It doesn't make him look noble, or idealistic. It just makes him look stupid. What do you mean? What do you mean that he took this entire journey to get him to master all the elements on a deadline so he can end the war, and he had no idea what ending the war would even look like? He didn't even consider it? It had to be told to him. He really goofed off this entire series and didn't think about his project until the night before it was due. And don't anyone try to use his age to excuse this to me. First of all, Aang isn't a 12 year old. He's a fictional character who was created by writers. Writers who were telling a story. THEY are the ones who didn't consider how Aang would end the war. Second, within the story, Aang's age is never used as an excuse for why he did this. In fact, not only is an excuse not given, it's treated like a virtue on his end and not a lack of forethought on his part. He's rewarded for it.

Listen, I hate the Lionturtle/Rock of Destiny double deus ex machina, and I have made no secret of it. It was a cop out. It cheapened the finale. It made everything Aang was supposed to learn irrelevant, because no, he didn't have to make sacrifices and hard choices for his victory. He won because he was supposed to win (and how's that for shaping your own destiny?). Here's the thing, though. The Lionturtle, at least, could have worked. If Aang had to come up with the solution himself, go find the Lionturtle and ask for help (and maybe have to perform some challenge to earn it), then it would've been a satisfying ending while still not making Aang himself have to shed blood (nevermind that keeping his hands clean was a privilege most of the heroes in this story couldn't have).

I didn't necessarily want Aang to kill Ozai, and definitely didn't want him to kill Ozai just because it would look cool (although...). I would have been fine with a no-kill ending, if it had been set up right. I just think having Aang kill Ozai given the set up of the rest of the story would've been more satisfying than the cop-out ex machina double team. Or someone else could've faced Ozai, because he was never the main villain of the series. Azula was. And that fight was both satisfying and didn't end with her death, either (because it's a kids' show). It wouldn't even have to change. Aang was not the real hero of this story. Katara was the hero of the first half, and Zuko was the hero of the second. Aang was just the McGuffin. He could've sat this one out and been the one to make the "Real Hero" speech instead of Zuko. That would have been a good ending.

[woodchipp]

So your take is insane! Before anything else your arguments are terrible you are not referencing any official media you are just referencing your own biased work and one out of context photo from the game.

I have to say that I appreciate your choice to open your response with a slew of insults. Really sets the stage for a productive conversation.

Exactly what kind of official media am I supposed to be referencing in this case, if you don't mind me asking? Omocat's left toe?

"biased work" Classy. Is it biased because you don't agree with it? XD

The both of them are grabbing each other in this photo as you can see.

I can't see shit, actually. The photo is too blurry to see anything. What other sources for your claim do you have aside from a blurry photo? :)

The datamined captions for the Truth photos would've noted that she grabbed him if that actually was the intent. All she is said and seen to have done in the caption for Photo of a Fight and in the photo itself is blocking his path to the staircase's narrow passageway with her body and yelling at him.

Funny how quick Sunny is to interpret her scolding as a "fight", eh?

like when you’re restrained, you will fight back.

As I have explained above, it's not indicated that he was restrained.

I've explained that in the first post I linked ro in my response. Perhaps you would've kept that in mind had you bothered to read it.

he did not know what would happen if she fell,

Are you seriously insinuating Sunny's so stupid that he wouldn't know falling from a big height would be bad for the person who fell? lmao

He nearly died when he fell from a big height into the lake. That's why he has his fear of heights in the first place.

Because he is 12 and that is his sister and he loved her more than anything.

And yet he felt at peace when he saw her desecrated corpse.

That, interestingly enough, is a point of mine you didn't address.

Is this consistent pattern of assholery your referencing able to be explained by him being shy,

1) There's a difference between having trouble finding the right words and walking out on people while they're having a breakdown.

2) "Able to be excused" is a better way to phrase it. That's what you're doing, anyway.

him trying to repress his trauma,

Trauma is not an excuse for assholery either. That's pretty much what the game tries to say via Aubrey - her big rant near the stump on One Day Left has her admit the trauma of Mari's death was the reason she was an asshole to her friends and resolve to be better.

Judging by the fact you (and most of the fans) still readily use trauma as a defense, however, I think it's reasonable to assume the game has failed to communicate the message.

or a reaction to the immense pressure his sister put him under,

"Mari was mean!" is not a valid argument because the game only tells you she was without showing it throughout its runtime.

Quick development fact! Up until you’re about 25 you do not make decisions with the logical part of your brain basically at all!

The "fact" you're using as an argument is pop-culture psychology and has been disproven by clinical professionals. Despite that, it has been also used as an argument to prevent trans teens from transitioning.

This is not the defense you think it is.

(really weird of you to persecute this 12 year old like that but I digress)

1) You're talking about Sunny as if you're defending a real child. He's a fictional character. That means I'll talk about him however l please.

2) Sunny's age ceased to be a mitigating circumstance the instant he - and I have to emphasize that - felt at peace upon seeing his sister's desecrated corpse.

[it's] something he clearly regrets, that regret fuels the whole game.

He never does anything with it, though. It doesn't compel him to be a better friend to the group now that he has a chance to reconnect with them.

As for Jimmy, it seems that you've missed my point and took it as me arguing that he wasn't thinking clearly when he did what he did. What I was saying is that Jimmy's mindset is "irrational" in the sense he still believes he's always in the right and can fix everything even when it is clear the only thing he's doing is making shit worse. Thus, most of the decisions he makes are also influenced by his "irrational" mindset he's the "hero" of the story. At least, that's how I saw it.

lied to everyone about who had done it and what had happened because curly couldn’t defend his case,

Like Sunny lied about the cause of Mari's death to his friends to cover his own ass? :)

actively mocks and hedumanizes everyone on the ship due to his egoist and selfish nature

Because making your friends' pain - the pain you were responsible for - all about yourself is not selfish at all!

I do not see how you view this prepubescent child, and a monster with a horrific record of this behaviour who does nothing but continue it on the same regard

1) The logic I used to make my argument was yours.

2) Sunny's got a record too. I linked to it.

The only difference between those two is that you're willing to excuse Sunny's behavior.

Sunny is forgivable because he was a child who was not in a good rational mindset and made an impulsive decision with much more dire consequences than anticipated

Jimmy is not forgivable because he was an adult who had to make several conscious decisions to do what he did and does nothing but repeat his horrible behaviour

Both games are about forgiveness but two completely different ends of that spectrum. Omori is about how forgiveness can be healing and help those recover, and mouthwashing is about how sometimes forgiveness does nothing but enable horrible people to continue their abusive behaviour

[33minimilk33]

Link is so bby gorl rn, it’s got me feeling some type of way… (￣▽￣)

[mjulmjul]

Katya / Goncharov

[tree-obsession]

I AM NOT OKAY DEAR GOD IT'S BEEN HOURS AND I AM STILL WEEPING

his gentle face??? the soft, delicate, kind voice and his eyes visibly softening even more and the real, genuine little smile as he blesses his younger self with his sister's voice in the background.

hoyo why do you hurt us like this it's going to consume my thoughts for DAYS now

[lieutenantselnia]

F/o list meme because I miss posting about them but don't have all to much energy for other stuff currently, so memes it is😂 I lowkey wanna do more of these alignment chart memes now (both self ship and others), they're just fun :D

Template by @strawberry-selfships!

[x-x-nyctophilia-writes-x-x]

I hadn't realized just how much of a comfort character Ghost actually is to me until I saw his zombie skin for the first time and actually started crying at the thought of him being hurt.

I shed real tears at the mere idea of a fictional man being in fictional pain.

God help me.

[kvatyakatushkina]

she is the living proof that everything is possible🥖🥖🥖love her

[rosie321go]

i’ve become so obsessed with Jason Todd it’s not even funny

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 31: Post Game

…for the sake of the world’s happiness.

[hopelessromantic5]

I thought it would be fitting to post a sick-fic snippet, considering the upper-respiratory infection I’ve had for the past week has been kicking my ass.

So this is a little Bucky taking care of sick Buck fic.

Thank you for reading.

Gale went to sleep at Thorpe Abbots.

When his eyes shot open, he was in complete darkness. The only sounds in the room were the soft even breaths of his fellow officers.

Something was balled up in Gale’s stomach. This must’ve been what woke him.

God he hadn’t felt real nausea like this since he was a kid.

It’s alright. He tells himself. Just lie still and it will go away. Just calm down. Breathe, in and out. Calm yourself. It’s fine. It’ll go away.

Another roll of pain and discomfort had him up on his feet and bolting out the door before he could think twice.

He just made it outside behind the building before the contents of his stomach emptied into the grass.

Gale leaned against the bricks, heaving, tears streaming down his face.

God, how he hated it. The lack of control, the inability to stop it. Forced to endure until it’s over.

He felt himself drop to the ground, curling into his own body, trying to slow his breathing. Trying to get rid of that awful scratchy feeling in the back of his throat.

He blindly wiped at his face with the bottom of his tshirt, hoping he hadn’t been loud or interrupted anyone’s sleep.

It reminded him too much of the terrible nights of his childhood, fresh bruises already blackening around his cheek, under his ribs, the pain swirling behind his eyelids causing the sickness before little Gale could get it under control.

“Buck?” A voice called out, whispering, but still too loud for the dead of night.

Gale didn’t have the energy to respond.

Footsteps grew near.

“Buck! Hey,” a body crouched near him, gentle hands settling on his shoulders, like a blanket.

When Gale didn’t lift his head immediately, Bucky, softly, barely touching him, placed his rough hand on Gale’s cheek, calling the other man to meet his eyes.

When John felt the wetness of tears under his palm, his brows furrowed further in concern, if that were possible.

“Hey, doll, what’s the matter?” He whispered.

Gale must’ve been really really tired. The term of endearment didn’t seem out of place, it didn’t jolt his system the way it would in any other instance, it just seemed right.

As if he were expecting John to call him that.

A second hand moved, so Buck’s face was effectively caged in by John’s grasp. It was only then he realized the heat Gale’s skin was radiating.

“You’re burning up, Gale. We need to get you back into bed.”

Gale finally lifted himself from his hiding place, meeting John’s eyes. He’d never seen that kind of worry there before.

“You called me Gale.” He mumbled before he could think about it.

John huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“Because I knew it would get you to pay attention.” He stands, and gently places one of Buck’s arms around his own broad shoulders.

“I can walk.” He mumbled, yet disproving his own point when he practically slumped into John with all his body weight, tucking his face into his neck. Gale huffed, wanting to be embarrassed, but finding he was rather annoyed at relying on John for yet another thing. Relying on anyone for anything is bad enough, but John doesn’t need a burden like him. He should be free, like a bird.

Gale is beginning to think, in the only rational part of his mind left, that there may be something wrong with him.

Maybe he’d been poisoned.

A snort followed his poor attempt at being right,

“Sure, doll. If you say so.”

Bucky practically carried him all the way back inside, he smelled like fresh air and lucky strikes with just a hint of something simply titled ‘John’, it could never be recreated, Buck knows.

Once settled under his blankets, warm and content, John smiles softly at him.

“Get some rest, Gale.”

“Thank you, John.” He whispered, watching the silhouette of the other man freeze and the continue his journey back to his bunk, without looking back.

A sad, pathetic sigh escaped him before he drifted off into an awful, fitful sleep.

When he woke again, he was sweating, and it was bright enough in the room to blind him when his eyes creaked opened.

Then he caught onto the silence of his surroundings. No quiet murmurs of morning. No shuffling feet.

Daylight.

Silence.

Oh God, the meeting, the mission.

“Oh, fuck.” He says before he can remember he isn’t supposed to.

He’s up and getting dressed before he can even breathe.

He’s late. He’s so incredibly late, the captain is going to have his ass.

Oh, no.

“Whoa, whoa.” A hand on his chest settles his rushed movements. “Slow your roll there, cowboy.” Bucky just walked through the door, holding, what looks like, soup in a cup?

“Bucky, I’m late. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be helping Curt with flight check?” Gale is confused as to why either one of them are still here talking, and why no one woke him up.

A small smile appeared on John’s face, stilling Gale once again.

“What’s with the face?”

Bucky shook his head,

“Leave it to you to be deathly ill and still be worried about flight check.”

Gale looks at him like he’s crazy, which makes it even funnier.

“I’m not sick, John.”

“Tell that to your hundred and four degree fever.”

“What-how do you-“ Buck stopped, huffing in a breath. He probably looks ridiculous, one pant leg on and no shirt, with a sock halfway rolled up his foot. “Why are you here, then? If I’m sick, you could catch it. I shouldn’t even be in here, I should stay in the med tent.” He’s babbling.

Bucky has been watching him with wide eyes. He’s never seen Gale so ruffled, and stuttering.

He’s never seen him so not put-together.

He loves it. He’s drinking up the sight like water, though he does feel a pinch of guilt and hurt that Gale had to be sick in order for him to see this side of him.

“It’s a cold, Buck. Your body just needs some rest and it’s forcing you to get it, the only way it knows how.” Bucky turned back to something that he had discarded on his bed.

“You are not late, so you can stop having a panic attack and lay back down. I already told the Captain that you were sick. It’s not contagious. And I’m not leaving you here, sick and alone.”

For once, Gale went without a fuss.

He was exhausted.

“I brought you some pills. Doc said they should help.” John said, offhand.

The words send Gale spinning into a future he’d never imagined before. One where he and Bucky are living in a nice humble house with a few acres out back. John brings home the paper from town and they gossip about the neighbors while they drink coffee in the morning, huddled together on the porch swing. Maybe a good hound at their feet.

“Buck?” That warm hand returned to his face, this time feeling his forehead.

“Jesus, Buck, I’ve never felt skin this hot.”

“Careful,” Gale huffed a laugh. “You’re gonna give a fella an ego too big for his boots.”

John seemed to think this was funny too. Fond amusement colored his eyes, clear skies on a moonlit night.

“Maybe you could use a little ego, Saint Cleven. You’re too humble.” The hand that had previously taken his temperature by touch, carded its fingers through Gale’s hair. Sweaty blond locks that had fallen over his forehead were pushed back, cool air on his face more prevalent. It felt good while at the same time, sent shivers down his spine.

[seriousturd]

Random old grayscale doodles

Including my probably favorite Ellis expression I’ve made from a forever unfinished BMB comic:

[risetherivermoon]

i have never wanted willy stampler more dead in my life.

CASSANDRA MY WIFE GET BEHIND ME 😭

[mxltifxnd0m]

guys i literally cannot anymore

sam winchester has consumed me and my mind completely