#I AM SO PROUD OF HOW SHE TURNED OUT LOOKING

[plaidcowboy]

છ rafe’s not the jealous type

“man, where’s the rest of it, huh?” rafe brought the bottle to his lips, knocking back the rest of its contents, setting it down on the table beside him.

he looked over to the guy that spoke. he didn’t feel like playing with the guy, so he cut to it. “you see anymore than that?”

the guy’s gaze turned from you to rafe. he chuckled hesitantly. “nah.. that’s what i’m liking” he smirked.

“i like it too.. i told her it looks pretty before we made our way out” rafe watched you mingle with others, giggling at what someone told you.

the guy stilled. “oh.. didn’t know that was yours.. didn’t know she was anyone’s being out looking like that” he tried to keep up the bro talk.

rafe shrugged. “she’s wearing what she wants to” rafe responded, bored of the conversation. he had no problem with any revealing clothes you may wear. you liked it. rafe liked whatever you liked, sometimes even more than you. that’s all there was to it.

“i would just watch out for guys that’ll look.. i know i am” he kept up the smirk.

rafe shook his head, amused with the guy. “look, sure, i know how good she looks. you wouldn’t be able to do anything else”

rafe grinned as you turned a little to show off your dress to someone. why not show it off? he was proud when you flaunted yourself because you deserved it if it wasn’t coming from him.

he was used to people commenting on your looks and making suggestive comments. people admire pretty things, it’s nothing new. you were all his pretty thing. no one else’s.

touching though, was something else. you wouldn’t mess with a pretty painting at a gallery. it’s disrespectful to the owner.

he avoided violence in front of you. and what better way to solve disputes than with words instead of fists.

“that wasn’t so respectful, was it? to me or her”

they would shake their heads silently.

“right.. so it’s only right you apologize. it made her uncomfortable, and i don’t like that. a sorry would make her feel better”

they would stutter. “uh.. i’m sorry..”

“nah” rafe would suck his teeth, shaking his head. “repeat after me.. ma’am, it was disrespectful of me to touch something so pretty i wasn’t worthy of touching.. i’ll be more respectful towards women”

they would relay the apology.

rafe would turn to you, waiting for your forgiveness or rejection. whichever you felt, rafe did as well. it wasn’t his position to choose for you, he wasn’t the lady who received unwanted interactions. he knew this, so how these situations would go was always up to you.

you would look up at rafe, speaking to him rather than the other person. “it’s okay”

rafe would look at them. “say thank you”

or

you would look up at rafe, softly shaking your head.

rafe would look at the guy. “i don’t accept either. get out of her face.”

you skipped over to rafe and he slightly bent down, ready to hear whatever you seemed excited to share.

“rafe, this girl just called my dress pretty” you said, giddily, twisting yourself and the dress.

rafe smiled. “did she? that’s nice of her..”

rafe looked at the guy. “you have anything to say about the dress?”

you turned to the guy expectantly, excited to receive another compliment.

“uh..” the guy shook his head, suddenly awkward. “nah”

rafe frowned. “nah man, you just had so much to say” rafe didn’t repeat his words, not wanting to upset you. whenever he could keep you from hearing the unsettling comments made about you, he would. nothing could dim your happiness when you were with him.

the guy glanced away, scoffing.

“why don’t you just apologize. save her from getting mad at you”

the guy rolled his eyes. “nah man, i’m good..” rafe stopped him, grabbing his arm when he tried to walk away.

“that wasn’t a request”

the guy gulped, glancing over at you. “look, my bad..”

rafe tsk’d, shaking his head. he gave him the prompt, telling him to repeat the words. he did, and rafe turned to you, awaiting your response.

you looked up at rafe with eyes. “um.. should i?” you weren’t ever aware what the guy said after all.

“nah, baby, that’s all up to you”

you glanced between the two in front of you. “it’s fine”

rafe turned to the guy.

“say thank you.”

[kathlare]

before the goodbye

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando visits Amelie at her rehearsal space before heading to Canada for the Grand Prix.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

April 17th, 2024 - Los Angeles, CA

Lando’s heart raced with a mixture of excitement and reluctance as he made his way through the bustling streets of Los Angeles, heading towards the rehearsal space where Amelie was practicing for her second weekend at Coachella. His flight to Canada for the next Grand Prix was looming on the horizon, but he couldn’t leave without seeing her one last time before he headed out.

The past few days had been a whirlwind. Amelie had been sick, her usual energy dimmed as she battled through it. But now, she was back on her feet, gearing up for the festival. Lando had made sure to check in with her daily, offering support and sending her silly messages to keep her spirits up. And now, he was about to show up with donuts in hand, like a silly boyfriend who just wanted to make her smile.

He couldn’t help but feel a little giddy as he parked his car near the rehearsal building. He grabbed the box of donuts from the passenger seat, smiling at how cheesy he was about to be. But it didn’t matter—Amelie always made him feel like the silliest of boys when he was around her.

Walking inside, he was immediately greeted by a wave of music and movement. Dancers practiced their routines, musicians tuned their instruments, and the whole place buzzed with the energy of preparation. Amelie wasn’t too far off, chatting with a few of the crew while adjusting her outfit for the day.

Lando scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on her. She was looking as radiant as ever, despite having been under the weather just a few days ago. The way she lit up when she saw him made his chest tighten with affection. He gave her a quick wave before moving in her direction, his smile wide and playful.

Amelie’s face broke into a grin the moment she saw him approaching. She excused herself from the conversation and walked toward him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

—Lan, you actually brought donuts? You’re a dork, but I love it.—

Lando laughed, holding up the box in front of him. —I’m pretty sure I’m the cutest dork you know.—

—Don’t be so cocky, Lan.— She took the box from him with a teasing smile. —But I won’t lie, you’re probably right.—

They shared a soft laugh, the kind that spoke to the comfort and intimacy they shared, even in the midst of all the chaos around them. Lando watched as she started passing out the donuts to the crew, the dancers and musicians excitedly grabbing their treats. It was nice to see her in her element again—bouncing back to her usual self after being sick for the past week.

Lando leaned against a nearby wall, watching her effortlessly move from person to person, her infectious energy spreading across the room like wildfire. Even though he hated the fact that they didn’t have as much time as he’d like to, he couldn't help but feel proud of her. She was incredible, both as an artist and as a person.

He caught the way some of the dancers and musicians looked at her—like she was the center of their world. They admired her, and he couldn't blame them. He admired her too, probably more than anyone else ever could.

Amelie finished distributing the donuts, but as she turned to head back to him, Lando noticed the glint of exhaustion in her eyes, the faint trace of tiredness that hadn't quite disappeared from her recovery. He knew she’d been pushing herself hard to get back to full health, and he admired her tenacity.

—You sure you’re alright, Ames?— he asked gently, his voice a little quieter than usual.

Amelie shrugged, offering a quick, tired smile. —Yeah, I’m good. I’m just glad to be back in the groove. It was rough there for a few days, but I’m powering through. Coachella waits for no one, right?— She gave him a playful wink, trying to mask the weariness with her usual spark.

Lando reached out and gently tugged her hand, pulling her toward him in a more private corner of the rehearsal space. —Coachella can wait for a few minutes. You need a breather.—

She let him lead her without protest, though she didn’t argue. The hustle and bustle of the rehearsal seemed to fade as they moved further away from the crowd.

The moment they were out of earshot from everyone else, Lando tugged her into a small, quiet room at the back of the space, where they could finally have some peace.

—This much better, right?— Lando said, his voice low and affectionate as he leaned against the door to close it behind them.

Amelie nodded, offering a soft smile, but there was something in her expression that made Lando’s heart tighten—a kind of wistfulness that he knew all too well.

—I hate when you have to leave.— Her voice was almost a whisper, a subtle vulnerability creeping into her words. She stepped closer to him, her fingers grazing over his chest. —I just… I’m going to miss you. I always do.—

Lando’s hand instinctively moved to her cheek, his thumb gently tracing her skin as he looked down at her. His eyes softened.

—I’m going to miss you too, Ames. It’s not going to be the same without you, but— He paused, his smile growing faintly. —It’s not like we won’t see each other again soon. You’ll be at the Miami GP, and I’ll be counting down the days until I get to see you. You know that, right?—

Amelie’s eyes softened, but there was a shimmer of something in them, something he recognized as the bittersweet truth of their reality. Their careers didn’t always make it easy for them to stay in one place, let alone in each other’s arms for long stretches of time.

Lando’s thumb brushed across her skin once more, and he let out a small, soft laugh. —It’s funny, isn’t it? We’ve been doing this whole "goodbye" thing for months now, and yet every time, it feels just as hard as the first. —

Amelie gave a playful huff, resting her head on his chest for a brief moment before pulling away, looking up at him. —You’re lucky I’m so fond of you, or I’d be telling you to just stay already.—

Her teasing smile sent warmth straight to his chest, but Lando could sense the undertone of longing. He reached out, lifting her chin with a finger and lowering his head to brush his lips against hers softly.

The kiss was gentle, a moment of comfort between them, the kind of kiss that held more meaning than words could ever express. For a few seconds, everything outside the small room—Coachella, the race, the future—didn’t matter. It was just them, a quiet space they’d carved out amidst the chaos, stealing a few precious moments.

Amelie pulled away first, but not far. She lingered close, her breath mingling with his, and he could feel her heart racing beneath her skin.

—You always know how to make me feel better, Lan.— Her voice was a little shaky, and Lando could see the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes.

He smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. —You know I’d do anything for you, Ames. You’re my world.—

Her arms wrapped around him, and for a moment, there was only the sound of their breaths, the rhythm of each other’s heartbeats. Lando’s hand found the back of her head, his fingers threading through her soft hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

—Promise me you’ll be safe, Lan. Promise me you’ll be careful.—

Lando’s heart softened at the weight of her words, the rawness of the fear he could see in her eyes. She had always been the strong one, the independent one, but there was something about racing, the danger it brought, that made her worry like no other.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze steady but filled with tenderness. —I promise, Ames. I’ll be careful. You know I don’t take unnecessary risks, not when there’s something worth coming home to.—

She smiled faintly, her eyes still glistening with the tears she was fighting to hold back. —You better not do anything stupid, Lando. I can’t bear it.—

Lando chuckled softly, brushing his thumb under her eye to catch a tear that had begun to slip free. —I won’t, I promise. Just do me a favor too, okay?—

Amelie raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful but nervous smile. —What’s that?—

—Kick ass at Coachella. Show them who the real star is, Ames. You’ve got this.—

Her lips trembled with a mix of amusement and emotion as she nodded, her voice thick with gratitude. —I will. I’ll make you proud. And you’ll make me proud too, right?—

Lando smirked, his cocky side slipping back into place as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. —Always. Just watch me.—

The playful, confident energy returned for a brief moment, and it gave them both the strength they needed to face the reality of their situation. They would be apart for a while again, but it wasn’t the end. There would always be another moment, another reunion, another kiss.

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Please, Master, let me go out and make more money for you today! I want more! I need to please more men, ooo you can take me to that homeless shelter and drop me off for the night so I can satisfy those poor, lonely men! And maybe catch a new bug or two! ❤️"

"Tiffany, I just spent an hour cleaning all that cum and piss off you, you filthy little whore. I can't let you back out, my pet."

"Awww, please! I need cock! I want to make you lots and lots of money, it's my purpose, Master! Please, I beg you!"

"Ughhhh, so bratty. I didn't think you'd turn out this way. I guess a few years of mindless sex and pushing out kids has turned your poor brain to mush. OK, I better let you go."

"Let me go, what do you mean, Master?"

The man snapped his fingers four times in quick succession.

Tiffany blinked a few times, confused, suddenly realizing she's naked. She covered her breasts, completely horrified. "Oh my god, what the fuck is going on!? Huh? My body......? My boobs are huge! Why do I have so many tattoos? I don't under--my belly! No, no, no, no, no! I can't be pregnant, what happened!?" She looked up. "Who are you, why would you.... wait, no...... I know you. You were that magician."

He gestured like he was tipping his hat. "At the county fair. Remember how skeptical you were?"

"Wait, no way. You actually hypnotized me!? I never would've gotten on that stage if any of this was real! You monster, what did you do to me?"

"What day is it? And how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen! It's June 22nd, 2022!"

"Wrong, my pet, you're 22, it's June 16th, 2025."

Tiffany loosened her arms around her engorged breasts. "How could you..... I just thought you'd do some dumb trick, you hypnotized me for three years, into what? Your girlfriend? And did you seriously knock me up? That's disgusting!"

"You aren't my girlfriend, you're my plaything. You were so annoying on stage, not playing along at all, not flirting, not having fun with my show, you just folded your arms and acted so nasty to me and my audience, I simply had to put you in your place. And I didn't get you pregnant, you sleep with hundreds of men every week, there's simply no way of knowing who the father is. Oh, and this is your fourth pregnancy, you've already given birth to fourteen children. Triplets. Quintuplets, and sextuplets. You're actually only five months along right now so you might very well be carrying octuplets for all I know."

Tiffany was devastated, rubbing her thighs together. She felt her big pregnant belly, she looked at her breasts and tattoos. "I feel.... hot."

"Hm? The bath's probably lukewarm at best now."

"No, I--oh......" Tiffany reached between her legs, to her extremely swollen, over-fucked, disease-ridden pussy. "Oh my god! It hurts! It itches so good.... wow!"

"Yeah, you probably have every STD in the book. As my pet you were quite proud of getting them."

"I can see why..... I mean, um, this is so gross! I can't believe you did this to..... mmmmmmm. Oh wow." Tiffany giggled, shamelessly rubbing her sex in the bath, right in front of her captor. "It never used to feel this good! Oh my god, oh fuck. I think...... sir, I really think I need sex. Do I take drugs, too? I think I need some....."

"Indeed, you're quite partial to taking a big dose of heroin, getting so high you're barely conscious, and letting a whole club or bar's worth of men fuck your brains out all night..... You don't seriously want to go back to any of these behaviors, right?"

"Uh-huh!" Tiffany enthusiastically nodded, licking her lips. "Am I still in college? Doesn't matter, ooooo, I can't wait to show my new body to my friends and family and show them what a whore I am! Do you think I can go out after my bath and take my new body out on a test run? I don't know how good I'll be at making money for you anymore, but I'll try, Master!"

"I knew three years was too long....." He sighed. "Poor thing, I really scrambled your independent, clever brain. I guess you're my responsibility now. I was going to do some shows and train a new girl instead...."

"Let's do it! I can be your assistant! Then I can have a slutty sister I teach to whore with me, and we can get pregnant together, and rub our swollen, diseased pussies together! Won't that be wonderful?"

The man drained the water, patting Tiffany's body. "OK, my pet, I'll get you reacclimated to your duties as my whore. And get you a sister or two to have fun with later this week."

"You're the best Master a dumb, cock-obsessed slut like me could ever ask for!"

[rain-stars-and-chocolatebars]

Sevika x Prosthetist!Reader

Hiiiii this is my first time writing fanfic, like, ever. No time to start like the present, yeah? The rough ideas I have for this kind of get a little dark eventually so if that’s not your thing, please don’t read! I’m not sure how long I’ll keep adding to this, so I’ll be adding trigger warnings as I go along.

It's not really really enemies to lovers so much as it is begrudging allies to lovers. (which is way hotter imo)

I couldn’t decide where I wanted to set this in the timeline, so for now that’s completely up to you. I’ve just started season 2, so a lot of the time I am just making lore up to suit the drama. I am but a simple wuh luh wuh, I see a pretty woman, I start fantasizing about a life together, and then the storyline spins out of control.

No trigger warnings for this chapter!

You’d been working in the Undercity for several years now as a prosthetist. With the everpresent violence on the city’s streets, there was always a flow of new and returning customers. It wasn’t that your work was bad. Quite the opposite, actually. You’d gained a reputation as one of Zaun’s most reliable technicians. The constant fighting meant that your work was always getting damaged, much to your dismay.

You were proud of your work and the small amount of good it did helping your people. It’d taken a while, but after enough commissions, you’d finally managed to scrounge up enough to get off the streets and rent out your own shop. The place was small, and less than ideal, but it was yours.  

The door to your shop slams open and you’re greeted with your most habitual masterpiece-destroying client. Sevika. She looks like she’s just gotten the shit beaten out of her. She’s panting heavily, dried blood coming from somewhere you can’t see, and her arm, your work, is bashed and broken off in several places. Sevika drags herself through the entryway and slumps onto the tattered waiting couch. She leans her head back and groans.

“Gods, what did you do?” You throw your gloves and goggles onto your workbench and stalk over to her. Your hands gingerly hover over the mangled metal, grimacing. 

When you get close, she glares at you, “Don’t ask stupid questions. Fix it.” You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed.

“It’s my business if you’re going to keep trashing my work every other week.”

She rolls her eyes at your comment. “Not my fault you can’t make something that lasts me more than a month.” You ignore her and unceremoniously unclip the prosthetic from her shoulder. With intense effort, you heave it onto your workbench. 

“Ugh, I’m basically starting from scratch here.” 

Sevika watches silently as she reaches under your couch for the first aid kit. You kept it there for moments like these. She’d been in and out of your shop bleeding and bandaged so often, it’s a wonder you hadn’t started charging her for your drained medical supplies. She winces as she cleans her injuries.

“I take it, this'll take more than a day?” She questions.

You hum noncommittally, not glancing up from your workbench. After poking and prying, you deem the prosthetic a lost cause. “Could pull an all nighter…” you mutter, already fully engaging in the repair work. You quickly turn to your supply shelf, haphazardly organized, and balance on a step ladder to reach for equipment.

Sevika finishes wrapping herself up and stuffs the kit back under the couch. She relaxes minutely into the dirty cushions and turns her head to you. Sevika’s eyes follow you as you reach for supplies, eyes skirting over the small of your waist where the hem of your shirt lifts.

 “Need a hand, little one?” Sevika teases. You roll your eyes but choose not to rise to her bait. 

“I… got it.” You stretch to pull down a box of parts and carefully balance your way down the ladder. You turn the box upside down, dumping the contents next to your broken masterpiece. 

You sigh looking at the inventory.

“I’m… going to need another vial and tubing system for this piece here,” you tap at a part of the arm. “I put my last ones in here.”

Sevika grunts as she stands, making her way to you. As you mutter to yourself, she reaches across the table and grabs one of the pieces scattered on your workbench, examining it. “Yeah, you’re always needing more stuff.”

You snatch the part out of her hand and shove it into the box. “Fuck off, Sev, I’m serious. I can’t get Shimmer in this arm without that equipment. I’m not exactly bursting with extra supplies.” With a huff you begin scooping unnecessary metal and scraps back into the box.

“You can’t keep just destroying these whenever you feel like it.” You lift the box and walk over to your shelf, placing the box on a lower rung. When you turn back around, Sevika steps in your way, crowding into your space. She leans down and glares at you.

“It wouldn’t break if you actually made it to handle some damn combat.”

You match her glare, not backing down from her intimidation tactic.

“There’s no one in this god damn city who can make a better piece than me. You’re lucky I keep serving you. I should call it quits.” You shove past her to move to your workbench, but she grabs your arm and spins you back to her. Her nostrils flare in annoyance.

“And what? You stop serving me. What are you going to do then, hm? Find someone else to put up with your bullshit?” There’s a tense moment between the two of you, heavy breathing and glares. Neither backing down. After an awkward amount of time, Sevika releases your arm, and you yank it away from her in a huff. You return back to the prosthetic and begin taking it apart. 

Your conversations always ended like this, always some fight. It felt like she was trying to rile you up. And the worst part? She was great at it. Your only non-client friend, the woman who owned the fish market/coffee shop down the street, said the two of you were a match made in hell. Perfectly able to annoy the other.

You glance back over at Sevika, and she’s slouching against your table, smoking. Exactly how you told her not to in your shop. When did she even light it?

“You’re not my only client Sevika,” you break the silence. She doesn’t react other than huffing out more smoke, so you continue. “Every other day some poor sap comes in needing a new joint, or a new upgrade. You’re the only one I have to keep reworking.” It’s not a peace offering, but it’s an answer. Why don’t you make her arm more durable? You’ve never faced a challenge you couldn’t fix, but it just felt like she was going out and trashing your work on purpose. Trying to prove that you weren’t as capable as you knew you were.

Sevika pulls the cigar out of her mouth and grins. “Oh? You have other clients? I thought I was special.” It takes you a moment to realize that she’s teasing you. Actually trying to joke. You weren’t sure she was even capable, but here she is. It’s not a peace offering, but it’s her way of backing off. You take it.

“Sorry to break your heart, babe.” You grin at her, continuing your work.

A low grumble leaves Sevika at your comment. “You’re insufferable.” She hides a smile by lifting the cigar back to her lips.

You smile and tilt your head. “I try.”

“Watch your mouth. I know other ways to shut it.” Another glance to her face shows that she isn’t trying to intimidate you this time. Joking, she’s still joking. It’s a weird new thing for you, and like all things in your tentative peace, you see how far you can push it.

You roll your eyes. “Do you plan to keep thirsting over me or are you going to let me fix the damn arm.” Her eyes widen at your statement and she coughs from inhaling more than she originally planned to.

“Fine, get to work then.” She stalks back over to the couch, and you smile. One small victory for you.

You continue working, sketching up a new design around what you have in stock. Eventually, you lift up from your bench, and stretch. Sevika startles slightly, cigarette long-since put out.

“I’m going to need to make a trip down town for those parts. You coming with or do you plan to just crash in my shop like a bum?”

Sevika leans forward on the couch and rests her elbows on her thighs. She hums at your question as her eyes follow you.

“Depends. What do I get if I come with?”

Interesting. Every other time you've begged her to come with, Sevika has shut you down, saying she had 'more important things to do than babysit you'.

You shrug and tilt your head. “Assurance that the only person in Zaun who can fix your arm will come back on time and in one piece?” 

“You incapable without me around?” 

Ah, that was her play. Another jab at your capabilities. “Are you coming or not?”

She doesn’t answer, just smirks before rising from the couch and moving towards the door to your shop. You watch her for a moment before she turns around and raises her eyebrows at you.

“Well? C’mon, let’s go.”

[pinkvaquita]

After so... SO FUCKING LONG...

I finally re-desing my oc for one if my oc x canon ships!

Remember Sugar Coated Grape Cookie? Well yer name is just Grape Ade Cookie. Honestly I really wanted a shorted and lesd complicadate thing for her.

And damn it turned out good, SHE IS SO PRETTY <33333

Also, take some doodles of her being down bad for Butter roll cookie :3

[ash-and-starlight]

one day, in a thousand years

[spikeisawesome456]

I finished! Ha, it's nice to see the end result of the last four days of hard work, especially since I wasn't sure if it would turn out well or not. But! Not only did it turn out so, so nice (IMHO), but it turned out so much better than I ever expected!

For those who couldn't tell, I decided to customize a Funko Pop into Ciri, from The Witcher (based on her design from The Witcher 3 game), using a House of Dragon Daemon whatever his last name Funko I saw at Walmart. It was a little tricky to change the design over, and I made a few mistakes that I had to roll with (for example, her sword is purposely broken since I had originally tried to make it longer, it broke accidentally, I couldn't get the dried milliput I used off, so I decided that instead of sanding it, I would embrace it and make it purposely broken, ha), but overall, I'm happy with how it turned out!

Let me know what you think! This is the... fifth? Funko I've customized, and I think that I'm getting better at it, ha. ^-^ I've never been the best at sculpting, especially small things, but I'm getting there. The braid almost did me in, but I think it turned out really nice in the end. ^-^

[eternadreeblissa]

Man I just realized how better I was at drawing traditional than digital

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

@hilda-appreciation-week Day 1 - Favourite Character(s)

Kaisa (A.K.A - The Librarian)

Wow. Shocker, I know. I unfortunately didn’t have a clear idea of what I wanted to do with her for today, so I decided to try out some sketches of me attempting to figure out other drawing styles. Feat my turtleneck Kaisa and my caffeine addicted Kaisa agendas

References - x x x x

[talkfastcal]

i love being a collector btw<3<3

[liliesandthemoon]

memories.

[kathlare]

quiet chaos

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando enjoy a rare pocket of time together during a late-night tour bus ride.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

October 3rd, 2024 - Somewhere around Boston and Baltimore

The low hum of the tour bus engine provided a comforting background noise as Amelie and Lando lay on the plush cushions in the bus’s private room. The room, soft and dimly lit by the warm glow of a small lamp, felt like their little slice of home on the road. The rest of the crew was either asleep or occupied with their own lives, leaving Amelie and Lando in the bubble of their own little world. They were en route to Baltimore after her sold-out show in Boston, but for now, all they needed was each other.

It was late, and the quiet rhythm of the moving bus should’ve made it the perfect time to sleep, but sleep was the last thing either of them could manage.

Lando lay next to Amelie, his head resting against the pillow, but his mind was far from tired. His eyes glanced over at her, watching her with a look of playful amusement as she tried to get comfortable beside him.

—So, Ames,— he started, his voice soft but with a teasing edge, —do you ever stop talking?—

Amelie rolled her eyes, nudging him with her shoulder. —Says the guy who can’t stop talking either, Lan.—

Lando chuckled, the sound low and warm in the quiet of the bus. —Touché,— he said, his smile teasing but affectionate. He shifted slightly on the pillow, bringing his face a little closer to hers. —But seriously, I think you’ve been talking for about an hour straight. What are you even saying?—

Amelie propped herself up on her elbow, turning to face him with a grin. —I’m just saying, Lando, I’m gonna miss the free food on this tour. Like, do you realize how much I’ve eaten in the past month? My wardrobe is gonna need a serious update when I get back to New York.—

Lando smirked. —You’re cute when you complain about food. Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re literally always eating. We could be at a gas station, and you’d still find a way to sneak in a snack.—

Amelie laughed, a musical sound that seemed to fill the small room. —It’s a talent, Lan. A gift. You should be proud to witness it.— She took a dramatic pause, glancing down at her hands as if pondering something deep. —Honestly, if I could live off chocolate and tacos, I would. Best combo in the world.—

Lando raised an eyebrow. —Chocolate and tacos? I feel like that’s a very dangerous combination.—

—You just don’t understand the magic of it, Lan,— Amelie teased, leaning in close to poke his chest. —You’ve got to experience it yourself. I’ll make it for you next time we’re in Mexico. I promise it’ll change your life.—

—Maybe you’ll change my life first by not talking about food for five minutes,— Lando retorted, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

Amelie narrowed her eyes, playfully pretending to be offended. —Excuse me? I am a queen of conversation. If you can’t keep up, I’m happy to find someone who can.—

Lando smirked and shifted so that he was lying on his stomach, resting his chin in his hand and looking at her with that signature grin of his. —Oh, I can keep up, Ames. Believe me. I just like to hear you talk. You’re cute when you’re all passionate about nonsense.—

Amelie’s eyes softened, but she still couldn’t hide the mischievous glint in them. She reached up to ruffle his hair, a lighthearted gesture that spoke volumes about the comfort between them. —You’re impossible, Lan. I’m always right, and you know it.—

—No, you’re not always right,— Lando shot back, a playful edge to his voice. —But I’ll let you think you are, just to keep the peace.—

—Oh really?— Amelie sat up a little straighter, her eyes narrowing in mock disbelief. —I’m not always right? You’ve got some nerve, Norris.—

Before Lando could respond, Amelie was already lunging toward him, and he laughed, dodging her attempt to tickle him. The two of them tumbled around on the cushions, their laughter filling the small, dimly lit space. They were loud, carefree, their laughter echoing like they didn’t have a care in the world. It was a stark contrast to the quiet hum of the bus as it sped down the highway. In that moment, it felt like time had stopped. It was just them.

But then, the door to their private room suddenly opened, and in walked Carla, Amelie’s manager. Carla was a no-nonsense woman, known for her stern attitude when it came to keeping Amelie’s schedule on track, but even she couldn’t hide her amusement as she looked at the two of them sprawled out on the bed, both red-faced and giggling like children.

Carla crossed her arms, standing in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. —Really?— she asked, her voice dripping with mock sternness. —You two should be asleep by now. It’s already past midnight, and you’re supposed to be resting for tomorrow’s travel. Not that I expected anything less from you two.—

Lando, his cheeks flushed from laughter, sat up straight and quickly ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down as if that would help him look less guilty. He flashed a sheepish grin at Carla. —Sorry, Carla. We were just… uh… chatting. Didn’t realize we were being so loud.—

Amelie sat up beside him, her grin still wide as she looked over at her manager. —We weren’t that loud, right? We were just having a little… fun.— She raised an eyebrow in a way that made Lando snicker again, but he quickly bit his lip to stifle it.

Carla raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, but the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. She crossed her arms over her chest. —You two are impossible. I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re even capable of being quiet for five minutes. You’ve got a whole team to look after and you’re here, being louder than a rock concert. Keep it down, alright? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and you two need your rest for tomorrow.—

Lando, now suddenly feeling shy under Carla's direct gaze, glanced over at Amelie for support, his cheeks still pink. He cleared his throat and mumbled, —We’ll be quiet, promise.—

Amelie smirked at him, clearly enjoying the fact that Lando, usually so confident, was now sheepish under Carla’s scolding. —We’ll be good, Carla. No more noise, I swear. Just a little bit of chaos, yeah?—

Carla shook her head with a soft chuckle, but it was clear she was trying not to break into a grin herself. —I’ll believe it when I hear it. But for now, seriously, no more giggling and bouncing around like kids. I’m serious, you two. It’s not funny anymore.—

As soon as Carla turned to leave, her footsteps fading away down the hall, the sound of the door clicking shut echoed in the room. Lando and Amelie looked at each other for a beat, and then, as if on cue, they both burst into giggles, the sound even louder than before.

Amelie clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter, but it was no use. The more she tried to stop, the harder it became. Lando was no help either—his laughter was contagious, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold it in. He leaned back against the cushions, a hand pressed over his face as if that would stop the noise escaping him.

—Lan,— Amelie hissed between giggles, her voice barely a whisper but laced with amusement. —Stop laughing! Carla's gonna kill us.—

Lando peeked at her from between his fingers, his grin impossibly wide. —You started it, Ames. You’re such a bad influence.—

Amelie smacked his arm lightly, her lips twitching with the effort to keep a straight face. —Me? Bad influence? That’s rich coming from the guy who thought it was a good idea to teach me how to swear in every British accent.—

"Well, you needed a proper education," he teased, his voice dropping into an exaggerated Cockney accent. "Can’t have you walkin’ 'round soundin’ all posh, now, can we?"

Amelie stifled a snort, shaking her head at him. —You’re so ridiculous.—

—And you love it,— he quipped, his tone playful but his eyes soft as they met hers. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering for just a moment.

—I do,— she admitted, her voice quieter now, more serious. The smile she gave him was smaller but no less genuine. —You make everything more fun, you know that?—

Lando’s expression softened, the teasing edge slipping away. —That’s the goal, isn’t it? Life’s too short to be serious all the time.—

Amelie leaned into his touch, her hand resting lightly on his wrist. —You’re the best kind of chaos, Lan.—

—Back at you, Ames,— he said, his voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, the room was quiet, the laughter fading into a comfortable stillness as they just looked at each other.

But then, true to form, Lando broke the silence with a cheeky grin. —Although, if we’re being honest, you’re probably the loudest person I’ve ever met. I mean, Carla’s right... you’re louder than a rock concert.—

Amelie gasped in mock offense, swatting his arm. —Excuse me! You’re the one who was laughing like a hyena two minutes ago.—

—Was not,— he shot back, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

—Was too,— Amelie countered, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her face just inches from his. —Admit it, Norris. You’re as loud as I am.—

—Never,— he said with a smirk, his voice dropping to a whisper as his eyes flickered to her lips. —But you’re cute when you’re loud, so I guess I’ll let it slide.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed a soft pink. —You’re impossible.—

—And you love that too,— he teased, his voice teasing but warm as he leaned in to kiss her. It was a soft, sweet kiss, the kind that spoke of how comfortable they were with each other, how easy it was to be together.

When they pulled apart, Amelie rested her forehead against his, her eyes sparkling with mischief. —You know Carla’s gonna yell at us again if she hears us.—

—Let her,— Lando said with a shrug, his grin back in full force. —Worth it to make you laugh.—

Amelie shook her head, her laughter bubbling up again despite herself. —You’re such a troublemaker, Norris.—

—And you’re the one who keeps me out of too much trouble,— he shot back, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. —Guess we make a pretty good team.—

—Yeah, we do,— she said, her voice soft as she rested her head on his chest.

For a while, they stayed like that, the quiet hum of the bus and the steady rhythm of Lando’s heartbeat lulling them into a peaceful silence. But, of course, it didn’t last long.

—Hey, Ames,— Lando said after a few minutes, his voice breaking the quiet.

—Yeah?— she murmured, her eyes half-closed.

—Do you think Carla secretly loves us, or do you think she’s plotting our demise?—

Amelie laughed, her body shaking against his. —Oh, she definitely loves us. She just won’t admit it.—

—Good,— Lando said with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. —Because I don’t think I could survive being without you."

—You’re stuck with me, Lan,— she said, her voice full of affection. —Forever.—

—Forever sounds pretty good,— he replied, his voice soft but full of meaning.

As they finally settled down, the room grew quiet again, the only sounds the gentle hum of the bus and their steady breathing. And though neither of them said it out loud, they both knew the truth: they were each other’s home, no matter where the road took them.

[deeisace]

Fucking christ

[drvwing]

i also think, personally, that after so many times you need to recognize the pattern as it is and realize that person just does not respect you, or your time, or your energy, and is using you for their own selfish reasons. & that alone is disrespectful and not something you should allow yourself to go through. you need to respect and love yourself enough. esp to know when to let go of someone who is incapable of showing up for you in the ways you deserve. it’s hard, but moving on from people like this will allow your life to flourish in ways you didn’t even know existed. speaking from experience it’s a domino effect where suddenly everything is better, and falls into place how it should’ve been.

[gonzodangerfeels]

I usually just squeeze the carotid a little bit letting you continue to breath

If I am in a mood I might restrict breathing too though.

[lxnarphase]

━ ❝ OH, IT'S MINIKUNA ! ❞

✮₊‧⁺...content: heian era!sukuna x wife!reader, fluff, mentions of childbirth, sukuna is an overly proud father, sukuna is whipped for his wife

✮₊‧⁺...lunar's note: based of this little blurbie and this one too !! needed some fluff with kuna bc he would love having a baby girl idc what anyone says !!! also i did my best describing the birthing process in a time accurate period but it's definitely a bit inaccurate because...i have never had a baby LOL

no one has ever seen sukuna ryomen, king of curses, wince before.

not until today, at the wrath of his pregnant wife who somehow got a hold of his fingers instead of his hand.

one of the nurses did warn him to not give you his finger and to ensure you always hold his hand. but by the gods, he swears you almost ripped his finger off.

it's cute to him, however, when you attempt to curse him out.

'gods, sukuna, i despise your entire being!'

'i know, my wife.'

'i should've never let you get me pregnant, you animal!'

'you begged for it, my wife.'

'i am never letting you bed me again, use your hand for the rest of your existence!'

'you can't keep your hands off me, my wife, no need to lie.'

but the sigh of relief, the way you instantly look down and coo once the sound of wailing filled the air...it makes him melt just a little bit.

he can't deny, seeing you in pain made him heated. it took everything in him not to kill every midwife, nurse, and lady-in-waiting in your birth room for not being able to make this process completely painless.

except chiyo. he would have to reward your personal physician for preparing you so well for this...

what did the old hag like again? wines, meats, gifts for her grandchildren back at home?

hm, yes, that would be great for her. of course, he'll say it was from you. the king of curses shows gratitude for no one.

he's pulled out of his thoughts at the hushed whispers once the other women exam the baby before following your unspoken request to hold your child.

"d-do you think lord sukuna will harm our lady for this...?"

"i hope not, surely he can make an exception, t-they both are still young and can always try for more!"

"but he's the king of curses, t-there no way he won't have a reaction!"

before he can demand what they find so important to discuss in front of you, chiyo hushes the girls with a wave of her hand, ushering the girls to help wipe off your sweat, tears, and clean off the baby—gentle like it's the finest glass, she instructs—before turning to sukuna with a knowing smile.

"well, your greatness...congratulations on having a healthy and gorgeous little girl," she hums, wiping her hands with a clean cloth before going to rinse her hands to help stitch any rips and clean you up.

the room falls silent aside from your soft little coos and the wails of your daughter as you brush the wet, fluffy hair on her little head.

all the women in the room continue to work, but it's clear they are silently waiting for his outburst.

everyone knows that a proper heir to any throne is a boy...but now, sukuna's first born child is a girl.

but rather angry, yelling, and threats to your and your child's life, the room is filled with Suku's booming laughter, which practically shakes the entire room.

instead of an enraged expression, pure delight, and excitement are painted on his face as he sits next to you on the soft cushiony bedding on the floor, his hand caressing the rounded cheek of your newborn.

"so, you've given me a girl," he hums in delight, all four of his eyes narrowing. "this will be the one who takes over my throne once i decide to step down?"

this thing, this tiny, itty bitty baby...came from you both? it's almost laughable how small this baby is compared to his hand, that something so little could be related to him.

she's...nothing short of perfect. "absolutely divine...she will not just be beautiful like her mother, but as powerful as both of us."

he's so proud of you and your child. he would shower your daughter with riches, love, and anything she could ever want and ask for.

but, he couldn't lie.

she's a damned fat baby, big head and all.

"sukuna, watch your mouth!"

he can't help but laugh, not realizing his thoughts came out of his mouth. "what, it's a good thing! means she's healthy," he boasts with a grin, leaning down closer to see her better.

"she looks strong already. as soon as she is able, i will personally teach her how to be a truly malevolent little princess, how to properly slit the necks of her enemies, how to—!”

oh, he is so excited, it's adorable.

“sukuna, shush, i just gave birth to a child with a massive head like yours, give me a moment," you say with a light laugh, your smile still reaching your clearly tired eyes.

“…apologies, my wife.”

chiyo can't help but laugh with you she finishes applying the healing ointment on your lower body, using a bit of her cursed energy to speed up the healing process to help you skip any serious pain.

after all, nothing but the best physician for you in sukuna's palace.

"always such an excitable boy, my lord, ever since you were a young man," she hums, helping one of the midwives properly wrap your baby in the soft, clean cloth.

"be gentle with her," you instruct him, gently moving your arms toward him so he could take the little bundle. he's...nervous, but he hides it well.

you place your daughter in his arms and he looks down at her, suddenly conscious of how loud he's breathing. she's got his hair, still a bit wet but soft and fluffy. it's pink, just like his.

a pleased rumble vibrates his chest, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

but then...her eyes open.

both sets.

he almost didn't notice it at first, they're just so small, but they're there. the same color as yours, pretty and big, filled with so much life.

his eyes burn, vision getting blurry. no words come to his head, he can't think of anything to say. he's so caught up in his thought he doesn't even notice chiyo ushering the other girls in the room out and shutting the door before quietly tending to you with water or food.

she knows that look, you do as well. she's been around longer than uraume to know her master, knowing the king of curses since his young years as the unwanted child of the village, abandoned by his mother for his 'horrid' appearance.

she was lucky to have found him before the villagers got to him, torches, axes, pitchforks and daggers in hand to take care of the child who they believed to have brought misfortune to their home.

getting him to safety was one of the best decisions she'd ever made, king of curses or not. no child deserved to be abandoned like that. and now, he's seeing himself in that tiny little being in his arms right now...chiyo can only imagine what he's feeling.

so, out of respect, she keeps her gaze averted, pretending she does not see the misty gaze he gives your daughter. this is a moment for you and him, and she does her best to make all her movements as quiet as possible.

all sukuna can think about in this moment is how he used to be just as tiny as this. he was just as vulnerable in his mothers arms. he couldn't talk, couldn't speak, couldn't fend for himself.

yet, his parents looked down at him just like this and decided he was an abomination and didn't give him a chance.

but now?

sukuna knows he would never, ever let anything happen to this little bundle in his arms. he would rather destroy the entire planet before letting anything happen to his baby girl. no one would make his little one suffer and live to see another day.

he flinches just a little, feeling your soft hand rubbing his bicep. "it's okay, my love," you softly coo at him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye before it had a chance to drip down his cheek. "she's going to grow up feeling loved and cherished because she's got a great father."

"hmm..."

a smile crosses his features as he looks back down, looking at the squirming baby so makes a little noise before calming down when he strokes her little, chubby cheek again to keep her from crying again.

"and she's got a great mother. she'll be the most wonderful princess in all of history," he says with a toothy grin, chest rumbling with a laugh.

"aww, my love, that's so sweet..."

"seriously, though, how in hells did you squeeze this thing out of ya? thing's got the head of a watermelon."

"sukuna, give me back my baby, and chiyo? get this man some food to stuff in his mouth before he says something to warrent the rage of a new mother."

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