Stream Guys

Me: *drinks coffee at 1 am* I feel nothing

Me: *1 hour later* why can I not fall asleep this is so strange and unusual

My body: 

History of BTS rap line:

The board game that will test our friendship https://bk.jellybtn.com/hnr7mf

Unstoppable (5)

Genre: Romance, Angst, (future smut)

Length: 1,3k

Characters: Kim Jongin, Oh Sehun, OC

Part: 5/?

Summary: “A rollercoaster of emotions comes your way”

His lips parted slowly from yours without letting go of each other, you couldn’t find your voice. It was just you and him and nobody else.  

His eyes looked at you with affection like if he was saying ‘everything will be ok’ and gave you a small smile while pecking your nose, a strong heartbeat echoed through your body, everything inside you lightened up as if he had turned up a switch.The moment was just… magical.

“Let’s go, okay doll?”  

You were still in trance but you didn’t know if it was because of the shock from earlier or his sudden kiss that made you feel like melting, your heartbeat was erratic, the adrenaline, the rush, it was to much to assimilate.  

But you did know something, the butterflies inside your where now lions roaring for more.  

“Wh-” You just muttered because he gave you a short kiss before you could even speak, this boy sure knew how to make someone’s heart go crazy. 

You turned your gaze to look at Jongin one last time before you’d go. He seemed to struggle, you could see his right hand was formed a fist and his chest was going up and down fastly like if the oxygen wasn’t enough for him, the veins in his neck started to pop up lightly, but then, your eyes encountered. 

His eyes were… empty, you knew that look, it was the same one you gave him when you had broken up. Your heart clenched in sadness, it was so confusing because his eyes looked like they were shouting “Don’t go” but, why would he have reasons to do that, maybe it was your mind just playing with you from the intensity of the moment.

Almost instantly you were suddenly pulled by Sehun breaking the contact with him and now turning your attention back to the breathtaking orange haired guy.

“Get in the car” You didn’t hesitated and got inside instantly, with him following behind doing the same.

The feeling inside the car was so different from outside, it felt… tense, not a bad kind of tension, it was more in the awkward side, maybe it was since it’s different kissing him sober than kissing him drunk.

Kissing him drunk was more on the lustful side more aggressive, more demanding while being sober was more on the emotional side, more caring, more sweet, but both of them had one thing in common and it was the passion he held into them.  

“Don’t ask about it…” he interrupted your thoughts making you now fully aware of him, your turned your gaze to him 

“Just remember what i said love, he isn’t worth it” and gave you a heart warming smile, he had called you many nicknames but this one was the most pleasing to hear.

Ba-dump

Once again it echoed loudly through your body, this time sending shivers through your spine. Who the hell did he think he was to make you feel like this?

The ride was silent, none of you mentioned something from what happened earlier, both of you had lots of questions that needed to be answered but, the silence felt so comforting to even interrupt, if it was like if one of you said something everything would just simply break.

It wasn’t even a day since you met him and he already had your world upside down, constantly suffering of internal earthquakes that were caused by so many emotions he caused.

He stopped in front of your house. “I don’t think you’re in good condition to work now” he explained before you could ask and then added “I’ll go for Vivi again and i’ll make something up to explain Yixing, don’t worry” it was as if he could know what you were thinking. You bowed slightly in gratitude and opened the door to get out. 

“Wait i’ll walk you to the door” he said also getting out while you just nodded and got next to him walking towards the door.

“Thank you” you said, remembering the events of last night when you didn’t actually thank him. 

He chuckled “I was actually expecting to kiss you again, but now i don’t have an excuse, damn it” he said in a jokingly manner but it even made your heart jump in excitement by just the thought of it, your cheeks immediately getting a subtle pink color, your  gaze turned to the floor to hide it, but he noticed it instantly.

“What happened to the girl that was snapping at me this morning and now she’s blushing?” He laughed, your eyes went back at his again.  

“But i think I’m liking this one better…” He took a long step towards you, the action made you step one back and it was like that until your back hit the wall you were now trapped between his arms.

His face started getting dangerously closer to yours,you thought he was going to kiss you so you’re forced your eyes shut preparing for it, but… it never came. Instead his left hand grabbed your chin and turned your head to the side this causing his lips to brush lightly your ear, his breath felt hot against you, the feeling was so soft but so intimate at the same time, 

“Because of how submissive she is” he finished giving a kitten lick to your ear, his tone was suggestive making it sound in another way, you widened your eyes and slapped his hand from your chin, pushing him back with force, the action made him take two steps back from you.

“Yah” you exclaimed looking at him in annoyence.

“There she is again” he chuckled to himself.  "Well i have to leave, bye doll" he said giving you a last smile and and started walking towards his car.

The adrenaline rushed through your veins, the feeling almost felt desperate by just watching him go, inside you there was this part that wanted to be with him a little longer, it felt like it was going to get out of you and it actually did, but with words.  

“When will i see you again?”  you shouted.

He stopped in his tracks not facing you., but you knew he was smirking  "Soon love, be prepared" you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean doll” a smile played in your lips at his words, while you just watched him leave in his car.

You got your keys from your bag and proceeded to open the door, you didn’t actually realized you were holding your breath from the excitement until you got in.  You closed the door slowly and suddenly let yourself fall to the ground your eyes closing in the process.

How can a stranger get so easily in the picture, making you feel a rollercoaster of emotions so fastly, you didn’t like him you knew that, but…. maybe you did feel attracted to him. It was confusing he made your heartbeat go uncontrollably fast, but then he was such an asshole.

“Dammit” you said to yourself sighing.

“This is so cliche that I’m going to puke, i swear” you heard a voice saying and instantly raised your face to look at the person in front of you.

“I thought you weren’t going to be here until 10” you said to your sister trying to change the conversation.

“I finished work early” she eyed you suspiciously, you tried to look as normal as posible but of course she is your sister she could see through you easily she’s been with you all her life “Who is he?”  she went to the point.

“Ju-just a friend, no one special” you half lied, since he was actually kind of a friend but…

Do friends kiss each other like he did to you?  

She raised an eyebrow still doubtedly “Fine when you’re ready tell me about him” said that she turned leaving towards the kitchen 

“By the way… Jongin called" 

Your heart dropped. 

Anime Girl: *breathes* Her Tiddies:

Soft Launches and Soft Tyres

Part 1: The Princess of the Grid

A particular kind of silence falls in a garage before a race. It’s not quiet with radios crackling and the hum of tire warmers and mechanics shouting about torque and telemetry. But it’s a kind of silence in my head, like the calm just before I let the car swallow me whole.

I live for that silence. That, and the smell of burnt rubber. I’ve never fit into any neat little box anyway—not the way people expect, especially not when I got into F1 at 19. People expected me to be the new kid, quiet and compliant. And, well… okay, they were half right.

I was quiet. Still am, mostly. I don’t talk back, I let the track speak for me. That was something Seb used to say. “You don’t need to be loud to be heard, Moni.” He was my mentor before he became everyone’s eco-uncle and left us… left me. I still miss his hugs. And Daniel, god, Daniel was like my older brother, but funnier and worse at keeping secrets. He once said I had “golden retriever energy disguised in a kitten’s body.” Which is both cute and slightly concerning, but very him.

Anyway, it’s been five years now. I’m 24, and things have changed. There’s a new wave of younger drivers, some shinier, and I’m not the “baby” anymore. But I guess I still get called the “Princess of the Grid.” Mostly by Lando. Once, Carlos said it during a press conference, and Lando won’t let him live it down.

My mother raised me, just the two of us. She worked nights at a hospital and still managed to drive me to karting sessions on weekends. It wasn’t glamorous. We didn’t have the money that most kids in motorsport had. But I had her. She never yelled, never cried in front of me. Just kept going. Quiet strength. Maybe that’s where I get it from.

My dad left when I was six. I don’t remember much about him, and the stuff I remember feels more like watching someone else’s home video. He wasn’t cruel, just... unfinished. He didn’t know how to stay, and he missed a lot of things: my first race win, my Super Licence, and my debut in Formula One. Sometimes, people ask me if we’re in touch, and I say, “No, but I’m sure he knows where to find me.” I mean, it’s not like I’m hiding.

I signed my first F1 contract at nineteen with AlphaTauri, back when it was still AlphaTauri. It was a blur—media, pressure, more cameras in a week than I’d seen in my whole life. I kept my head down. Scored points when I could. Learned how to breathe in that car-shaped pressure cooker. I was never the loud headline, but I stayed consistent. That's what mattered. The paddock doesn’t always reward consistency, but it remembers it.

I still drive for VCARB even now, and I like it here. We’re not the underdog or the top dog. We’re the kind of team that sharpens you and makes you better.

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

Part 2: The Calm Before the Media Storm

Media day always smells like too much cologne and burnt coffee.

It’s a mix of waiting around in branded teamwear and pretending not to hear the questions asked in the next booth. My PR manager, Livia, clips a mic to my collar with practiced ease, gentleness usually reserved for bomb diffusers or hairstylists.

“You good?” she asks, smoothing the VCARB jacket over my shoulder.

“Define good,” I say, giving her a slight grin. She rolls her eyes.

“Smile. Be nice. Don’t swear.”

“Always nice. Almost never swear.”

“Almost being the keyword.”

She pats my arm and walks off, already on the phone.

The first few interviews are standard fare. Strategy questions, performance reviews, tyre talk — everything I’ve answered a hundred times, just repackaged in different accents and camera angles.

Interviewer: “Monica, do you think the team’s Q3 performance in Jeddah was a turning point?”

Me: “It was a data point. A good one. But one race doesn’t define a season.”

Interviewer: “You’ve been praised for your tyre management this season—”

Me: “I just don’t fight physics. That’s all.”

They laugh. One asks if I meditate. Another wants to know what I eat before a race.

“Toast,” I say. “Always toast.”

There’s a short break after the fourth interview. I peel off the mic and flop onto a couch in the VCARB media room. Isack’s already there, drinking a Red Bull while on his phone watching one of the videos the admin made us make on Instagram.

“You’re trending,” he says, not looking up.

I groan as I close my eyes to take the smallest nap a human is possible. “Again?”

He turns the screen toward me. A photo from last week, me again, blurry, exiting a hotel lobby at midnight. Someone had zoomed in on my hand touching someone else’s arm.

“Your mysterious shadow boyfriend strikes again,” he grins. “This time, people think it’s someone from the grid.”

“Great,” I mutter. “I love when my life makes headlines. You keep laughing, Isack, but one day, you won't even be able to pee in peace without getting on headlines."

He ignores me and keeps scrolling. “Also, apparently your ‘energy’ matched Pedro Pascal’s according to this fan edit.”

I blink. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea. But I support it,” he says with a grin, and gets off the couch when his PR manager calls him for an interview.

I watch him walk away before my phone vibrates.

Groupchat: Who made this groupchat?

Carlos: MONICA.

Lando: Ma’am, why are YOU trending and not for overtaking someone???

Alex: Girl, you okay? Did you break the internet??

lewis: Princess, did I miss something, or did you go on a date with Pedro Pascal??

Charles: WHO IS THE MAN? Alex won't tell me anything.

Carlos: Becca won't either.

Max: I will find out. I know people.

Carlos: Moni. Seriously. Who is it?

Me: Stop spanning the group chat

Lando: We are not doing such thing, answer.

Oscar: We want to know?

Max: Does Daniel know? I bet he does.

Me:……

Charles: Young lady, come back here.

---

Sebastian (privately): 1 massage - unread

I stare at Seb’s message for a second too long. Then I press the side button and lock the phone without replying. The last interview of the day is with a lifestyle network—the ones who care more about what moisturizer I use than my racing line through Sector 3.

The questions start light.

“What’s always in your travel bag?” “How do you relax between races?” “If you weren’t an F1 driver, what would you be?”

I answer them all. (Sunscreen. Sleep. Veterinarian.)

And then

“So, Monica… the internet wants to know: Are you dating someone?”

There’s a beat of silence. Not awkward. Just quiet.

“I—uh.” I blink. “I don’t usually talk about my personal—”

“We know! That’s why everyone’s curious. There have been some pictures lately—late dinners, hotel lobbies. People are saying—”

I don’t hear the rest. My throat tightens. I nod slowly, a polite smile barely glued on. Livia appears out of nowhere, like a PR magician.

“I’m so sorry,” she cuts in. “We’re running late for a strategy debrief. Tight schedule today.”

The interviewer tried to hide their disappointment, but Livia was already guiding me out of the chair with a hand on my elbow and that fixed “this is fine” smile that PR people must practice in the mirror. Once we’re out of sight, she mutters, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. In the hallway, I check my phone again. Seb’s message is still sitting there. Still unread.

-----------

Part 3: When the Internet Breaks

[Clip: ‘The Last of Us’ Season 2 – Press Junket | Interview With Pedro Pascal]

Pedro Pascal is seated comfortably and exudes his characteristic warmth and charm.

Interviewer: "Pedro, 'The Last of Us' season 2 episode 2….what an episode it was, it delves deep into love and loss themes. Has portraying Joel influenced your perspective on personal relationships?"

Pedro: "Absolutely. Joel's journey is one of profound connection and vulnerability. It's made me reflect on the importance of having someone who grounds you and brings light into your life amidst chaos, just like Ellie did for him in a daughter-father way."

Interviewer: "That sounds personal. Are you currently experiencing such a connection in your own life, maybe with a lover?"

Pedro: "Well, let's just say I've been fortunate to find someone who brings that kind of light and grounding into my world."

The interviewer raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

Interviewer: "Care to share more?"

Pedro Laughing, shaking his head, "I think I'll leave it at that for now. I don't want trouble."

Within hours, the internet was ablaze with speculation. Social media platforms were flooded with clips of the interview, and fans dissected every word and expression.

Twitter/X – Trending Topics:

PEDRO PASCAL GF???

"Someone who brings light" [1.3M posts]

Monica VCARB edit (soft launch??)

MONICA IS DATING PEDRO

PRINCESS OF THE GRID x INTERNET’S DADDY 😭

Comments under various posts range from excitement to disbelief:

“Imagine going home to the Princess of the Grid and she makes you toast while talking about tyre deg 😭” “She was quiet but had the rizz of a thousand suns.” “Oh my god. THE fanfic is real.”

Private Chat – Daniel Ricciardo & Monica Daniel: So. The internet’s on fire. Pedro and you?

Monica: He didn’t mean to I think He was just talking. That’s how he is. He gets soft and starts talking, and the words fall out

Daniel: That’s adorable. I’m vomiting a little, but it’s adorable. So it’s real? Like, real real?

Monica: Yeah. It’s been a few months now. Met him at an awards thing. He was nice. Didn’t treat me like a headline. Didn’t ask about fame at dinner. Just asked about my favorite books. Stuff no one’s asked in years.

Daniel: You deserve that. You so deserve that. But you’re freaking out, huh.

Monica : I feel like I’m standing on a trapdoor. Like the minute I smile too wide or hold his hand in daylight it’ll open and everyone will pile on. I worked so hard to be taken seriously. Being the first woman in F1 was hell at first. You remember. People said awful stuff. Called me Seb’s “pet project,” remember that? Or the “baby with daddy issues.”

Daniel: Yeah. I remember. I also remember you outqualifying half the grid with a migraine and two hours of sleep. You’ve got scars. Doesn’t mean you hide forever.

Monica: He’s older. People will tear it apart. Say I’m looking for a dad. Say I’m broken. And with mine leaving, I never really figured out how to not let that stuff crawl under my skin. I know it’s stupid. But I’m scared. Of the headlines. Of the comments. Of being too happy and getting punished for it.

Daniel: That’s not stupid. That’s human. But you don’t have to carry it alone. Talk to Seb, Mon. He’s worried. We both are. You’ve got us. You always have us.

Monica: I haven’t opened his text.

Daniel: Mon, you know you have to talk to him at some point

I sat curled up in the corner of the hotel bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over my hands. The room was too cold, not physically, but in that way hotel rooms are when you don’t feel like you belong in them. My phone sat in my lap like it weighed five kilos. Seb’s name had been at the top of my messages for three days. Unread. Unopened. But never ignored. I stared at the notification, thumb hovering over it like the screen might bite back. Then, finally, I tapped.

Sebastian Vettel [3 days ago]: Hey, little one. I saw the headlines. I just wanted to say, I hope it’s true. Not the rumors. The happiness. You’ve always deserved to be loved out loud, not in secret. And you don’t owe anyone an explanation for that. If people try to turn your joy into ammunition, that’s on them, not you. Call me if you want. I’m here. Always. 💛

It hit me in layers. I could hear his voice in my head as I read. His calm, that steady warmth he always had, even when the whole world was watching him. I didn’t cry. Not really. But something loosened in my chest — something I didn’t realize I’d been holding onto so tightly. Like someone had cracked open a window in my ribs and let the stale air out. I stared at the message momentarily before hitting his number and hearing the ringing sound.

----------

Part 4: Eyes on the Paddock

Practice day always feels like the calm before the circus. Except this morning, the circus was already rolling in. By 9 a.m., the paddock was alive, TV crews in place, PR managers buzzing like caffeinated bees, fans pressed against the barriers, phones ready. Security tried to keep a clear path, but the chaos was controlled at best. Sky Sports F1’s Rachel Brookes adjusted her earpiece and stood near the entrance gate, mic in hand, eyes trained on the team hospitality areas. She nodded to the cameraman. “Alright, we're rolling in three, two, one…”

“Good morning from the paddock,” she began, the signature warmth in her voice. “It’s Friday, it’s practice day, and we’re already seeing a few drivers arriving.”

From behind her, someone in the crowd screamed as Charles Leclerc strolled past in Ferrari red, smiling at Leo with Alexandra by his side. Moments later, George Russell appeared with Carmen beside him, both dressed like they had walked out of a campaign shoot.

Rachel turned slightly to the camera. “A few of the grid’s familiar faces are arriving with their partners today, a little off-track love before the focus shifts to race pace.”

Then the air shifted. It wasn’t loud at first. Just… aware. Phones lifted. People stood on their toes. There was a wave of murmurs, the kind that travels fast, faster than even a car down the straight. And then there she was. Monica, the grid princess, walked through the gates like she’d done a thousand times. Cool. Grounded. Calm with her usual sweet smile. Except this time, she wasn’t alone. Pedro Pascal walked beside her, their hands linked, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Rachel blinked, then leaned toward the camera with a slightly incredulous smile. “And… Monica Cruz is walking in this morning with none other than Pedro Pascal. That… is quite the entrance.”

Click. Flash. Shutter sounds like popcorn. Monica didn’t stop walking. She didn’t pose or break stride. But she looked up briefly, smiled toward the crowd, and gave a small wave with her free hand. Pedro leaned close to her ear, clearly saying something only she could hear. She laughed, genuinely, softly, like no cameras were watching. Rachel, still recovering, added, “Well, that’ll be the shot of the weekend before the engines even start.”

-----

Author note: I had this idea and just had to get it down, even if it’s rough or awkward. I know it’s not perfect, and I apologize if the writing feels unpolished, but I hope the story's heart came through and that you enjoyed the concept. I’d love to keep writing and improving, especially regarding details and dialogue. Next time, I want to include more of Monica interacting with the grid and the other drivers. I hope this first part of the story feels like a good start.

yeah, please please someone make this, i really want to read it 

Please someone make an actual story.

Jae: “My Days yall know what it is, Brian did it first trying to steal my lines-”

Brian: “YOUNGK”

Jae: “YOU WENT ENGLISH BRO, UR BRIAN GIVE UP”

I don’t know who did this but i’ve just realized that i could sell my kidney to make this happen.