#also near takes melatonin

[miodiodavinci]

sleep schedules will be so so fragile huh

[stealingyourbones]

Update: I’m watching multiple video essays and the movie over again to make these

The urge to give ghosts in the Infinite Realms Beetlejuice logic

[raeinyourdreams]

currently thinking about dry humping with logan. 😵‍💫

_____

it's late at night and you couldn't sleep, so you went out to the kitchen for a cup of tea, only to find logan doing the same.

he's no stranger to your insomnia, seeing you in the kitchen at late hours of the night looking for tea, milk, melatonin, anything to put you to sleep eventually. and they usually worked, but this night was especially hard.

logan hands you a cup of a sleeping blend. "heard you coming, figured you might want this." the small act of kindness warms both your heart and your face, smiling softly as you take the mug in your hands, your fingers brushing for a moment.

"thanks, lo." you say, taking a sip of the tea, he'd prepared it just how you took it. he'd memorized it from watching you around the kitchen many times. "can't sleep either?" you ask him, leaning on the counter, he just shrugs as an answer.

"when it happens so often you just grow fond of the night. the stillness, the calmness. no kids runnin' around." that last part made you chuckle, he always boasted about hating kids, yet he was oddly really fatherly to them. he smiles weakly to himself at the sight of your beautiful smile, the melodic sound of your laughter.

logan and you were.. something. something very strange that none of you seemed to label. too meddled in the heat to think about a word. you two were whatever you wanted to be in the moment. friends, situationship, his and hers and everyone else's, truly whatever.

so it didn't surprise you when he offered to take you to his room to "help you sleep" in the span of five minutes since you'd stepped foot into the kitchen under some scientific pretext of orgasms helping with relaxation, hence sleep. and who were you to deny?

the tea was long forgotten, a distant memory sitting on his nightstand as he took off your top, you straddling his lap as his hands roamed all over you, skin touching skin that was only covered by a thin fabric.

not tearing away from his kiss, your hands went down to fish his cock out eagerly, when a firm grip on your wrist stopped you, along with a stern hum, finalizing laced in the sound, leaving no room for argument. logan broke off the kiss to look at you, slowly pulling your hand back up and to his exposed chest.

"no, baby, we're doin' somethin' else today.." he says, as he presses your clothed cunt against his throbbing erection, moaning as he feels your hips moving for friction, eager just like him. he holds you down, steadying you by the hips. "woah, slow down, sport. i'm not runnin' away from you.. we have all night so take your time with it."

he coaxes you slowly, guiding your hips at a slow, steady pace as he rubs your cunt against his bulge, throbbing softly under you as you press harder onto him, whining for more. you slowly get the hang of it, your hips moving juuust right as your clit brushes over his shaft, the growing wetness in your panties soaking his own boxers and it makes him growl, hiding his face in your neck to take in your scent.

"can fuckin' smell you, feel you throbbin' around nothin'.. you close, baby?" he asks you, his voice gruff and strained, as if he was also holding on to the edge when he notices you move faster, chasing your release. "yeah.. come for me, bub.. if you do i'll fill you up right after, i promise.." his filthy promise makes you moan, your release creeping up on you like a tidal wave as you move your hips faster, pressing down on him, his twitching cock coated in your arousal and damn near release.

"yeah? you want that, huh? want me to put you to sleep good?" the filth spoken by him makes you react, moaning as an answer, which was enough for him, as it followed your climax. he held onto your hips, helping you guide the pace as he ground under you, your cunt throbbing and slicking up as he moved you over him. "that's it, baby, make a mess for me." his relentless praise whispered over the exposed, sweaty skin of your neck in between wet, open mouthed kisses on the skin.

after you both come down from the hazy cloud of pleasure and release, you search for his eyes, pupils blown out, the hazel now a deep black void as he pants and throbs under you. "fuck.. take these off." he paws at your panties, hooking his fingers under them as you look up at him, still trying to regain composure.

"what? but we just-" "-i'm a man of my word, princess."

you slept.. well that night. disregarding the smeared cum on your body and tangled bedsheets.

a/n: WOAHH!! first post imsonervous but i just HAD to get this off my chest while i finish a fic lolol, likes and reblogs are heavily appreciated (i interact back!!) 🫶🏻 taglist form

[onepiece-fics]

Strawhats' reaction to their S/O napping randomly in weird places

Summary: Strawhats reacting to their partner falling asleep in weird places in positions randomly.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader. General fluff. Mentions of gaslighting but in a joking way (incredibly unserious).

Word count: 1126 

Luffy

Honestly, he’s too stupid to consider that it could be a health issue so he just kinda thinks it’s cute

It’s not until someone like Chopper or Nami asks him if you’re okay that he’s like “Wait a damn minute…. Is my partner okay???”

He’ll confront you about it, super concerned, asking if you’re dying and you’ll be like “ ??? what now???”

He’ll sit with you as Chopper examines you with very stern eyebrows. When Chopper tells him that you’re fine he has the BIGGEST smile on his face.

Would probably either join your naps (and also sleep in weird places/positions) or poke you until you wake up lol. 

Zoro

Dude will join your naps, no questions asked.

He’ll ask you if you’re okay, but once you tell him that you’re fine he shrugs his shoulders and just lies down near you. 

If you look particularly uncomfortable if you’ve somehow squeezed yourself in between two boxes or something he might pick you up and plop you down in a hammock instead.

Most of the time though he just sits or lays down next to you, with an arm around your shoulder or waist.

He knows you think it's adorable to wake up with him half-snuggled into you <3

Nami

Before you start dating she might judge you a little. She might give you a weird look when she finds you hanging from your legs in her tangerine trees lmao.

When you start dating though she’ll find it cute as hell. Whenever she’s just walking around on the ship and finds you in the most random places it’ll make her giggle. 

When she finds you she’ll squat down beside you, move your hair from your face, and give you a kiss on your forehead as you wake up.

“Wake up sleepyhead, surely this can’t be comfortable?” she’ll say teasingly as she pulls you up on your feet (and drags you away to go cuddle somewhere) 

Usopp

He thinks it’s soooo cute but…. He might jokingly gaslight you about it.

“Oh Y/N? Remember that time I found you sleeping in the Cola barrel and you heat all of Franky's cola up with your body temperature? No? Dang, and Franky got so sad about the Cola too…”

He’ll only gaslight you for a little bit though before kissing you and telling you it’s a joke. He’s not doing it maliciously, he just thinks it’s funny to tease you and make up stories (and tell them to Chopper who totally believes it every time)

Honestly, I feel like Usopp would be the type to tuck blankets and pillows away in the most random places that you tend to fall asleep in, in hopes that you would use them.

He would also tell you to call for him if you start feeling sleepy so he can wake you up! 

In reality though, if you do call for him he’ll just get super soft and cuddly with you and you’d both end up napping together. 

Sanji

He’d be SO worried about you it’s not even funny

Would be sprinting to Chopper with you in his arms the first time you fall asleep in a weird place asking him to cure you immediately

After an intense check-up from Chopper (with Sanji crying, holding your hand) he’ll be so relieved that you’re fine.

He might scold you if he finds you in positions that look particularly uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t ever wake you up. He’d just pick you up and place you on a sofa somewhere and wait until you woke up to scold you.

Like Usopp, he would also ask you to tell him if you were feeling sleepy, but with cuddling 110% in mind.

If you ever come over to him and tell him that you’re sleepy you best believe this man is dropping WHATEVER he’s doing to pick you up and run somewhere you two could cuddle. 

Chopper

As a doctor, he’ll ask you some questions about it and be able to give you some advice on what to do.

Might prescribe you melatonin pills to take when you go to bed at night in hopes that you don’t nap at weird times/places.

Would definitely keep an eye on you and might get upset if you nap when he tells you not to (how could you do that to the poor doctor T_T)

Robin

I don’t think Robin would be all too worried honestly, I think she’d just find it cute

Similarly to Zoro, I think she might sit/lay next to you if she finds you and just read for a bit, stroking your hair if you’re lying in her lap.

She trusts that both you and Chopper know what’s healthy or not regarding your naps.

She might propose a daily naptime for you lol. Like, just a 40 min nap time where you’re leaning against her in the hammock or something like that.

Franky

It takes him a while to notice at first, and when someone tells him they found you under a carpet in the dining room he doesn’t believe them at all. When he goes to look for you and finds you under the dining room carpet though…. He loses his mind.

Honestly, I feel like Franky would just be baffled more than anything.

“But why would you nap there?? Aren’t there better places to nap? What if someone steps on you?” Mans is just incredibly confused. 

Might make you a smartwatch that gives him a notification whenever you fall asleep so he can go get you and put you to bed lol 

After it happens like 10 times he just starts joking about it even though he still doesn’t really understand. 

Brook

Another one that doesn’t really reflect on how weird it is lol

If he sees you lying somewhere random on deck he might just laugh at you

Will tease you about it when you wake up, might even make a stupid rhyme about it and get Luffy and Chopper in on the teasing as well 

But it’s all lighthearted at the end of the day!

Jinbei

I feel like Jinbei would be very confused like Franky, but would ultimately find it kind of cute. 

Might pick you up and carry you to your or his bed and tuck you in with a little kiss on the forehead

More than anything I feel like if another strawhat found you sleeping somewhere weird they would come up to him like “Jinbeiiii, they fell asleep on the stairs againnn” like it’s his duty to go pick you up lol. 

He might tease you a little bit about it because he finds it silly, but more than anything he finds it cute. 

[qvrcll]

summary: with your subsequent marriages, you assumed that whatever friendship, and within it, desire and longing, you had with aemond in childhood had long since dissolved. but a dragon rarely ever yields.

warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD, childhood friend, non-targ reader, young betrothals, forced marriage mentioned, targcest marriage (a/h), possessive themes, dark aemond, (kinda) exhibitionism, finger in p, p in v, breeding kink, infidelity, cursing, slight dub-con but not really, aegon is a sorta decent friend if not a present and worthy husband, no dance of dragons

wc: 6.2K

author’s note: just watched ep 5 and i still stand by my slightly psychotic, slightly convoluted, wholly ambitious princess, but he’s on thin ice – aegon has suffered enough! you’ve made your point as king regent. this lowkey came to me in a melatonin-induced dream so excuse the errors if there are any, i haven’t written for this man since 2022! also, i’m so sorry aegon lol but then again, there is nothing more than friendship between him and reader – it’s just the principle that stings. oops :,) / dividers by strangergraphics

Carriage rides were always a handful.

More-so now, that you were a mother, cupping the back of your child’s head and bouncing him eagerly on your lap to keep him from fright, whilst your husband sat beside you, sticking his finger between the ridge of the little boy’s top lip and nose in a manner of teasing.

Rhaekar was a name that both you and Aegon had agreed upon. A fine name for a fine baby boy.

Fresh out of the womb and nursed delicately against your breast, Aegon’s usually frivolous and disengaged habits had quelled at the low cries that left the tiny bundle of cloth at your breast. He had uncharacteristically poked his head up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of the little wrinkled flesh, slick with blood and fluid.

He is tinier than I expected, he had said in a hushed tone, his ringed finger delicately tracing the fat of the newborn’s cheek, as if afraid to hurt it.

Most babies are, if not smaller, you had smiled.

It really was no secret. Your marriage with Aegon was not bourne out of love, nor willingness. He had detested duty, and you had grown cold at the thought of a loveless marriage. Even as you stood at the Sept steps, clothed head to toe in white that mirrored the marble of fresh-tasting cream frosting, cloaked in the regal cream of the Targaryen colours, the two of you had been too young to absolve or deny such a proposition.

But the years passed to prove that friendship could sprout in the absence of love. Aegon did not love you in a way you had hoped to be loved by someone, anyone. But he loved his son, and the friendship you held with him was near enough.

“He’s going to drool all over you,” you fuss gently, watching as your son takes his father’s finger into his two hands and grasps it like rope. A laugh is pulled out of Aegon – adoration is clear in his light irises.

“Do not worry, my dear boy,” Aegon drawls, broad and toothy smile catching the lines on his face, “Your father doesn’t mind.”

“He has grown.”

The third voice is a surprise, if anything. Yet it strikes a deep cord within you, familiarity bubbling in your chest at the age-old smooth voice, curved syllables.

Aemond.

You had been mildly conscious of his presence, and with him, Helaena, sitting across from you in the carriage. It wasn’t customary to be lodged in a single carriage like so, but with the destination being the annual hunt and Rhaekar’s name day, the family would need to be close. Well-knit as they walked out of the carriage for appearances.

Yet, you cannot help but hold Aemond’s one-eyed gaze for one second too necessary, to notice how he watches the three of you like a hawk.

Aegon breathes in softly, clearly distracted by the little babbling boy as he hauls him out of your lap at the arms and takes to playing with him more efficiently. You’re left to answer his brother’s question with a simple smile.

“The Maesters say he is growing up strong and fast,” your hands come to lay across each other on your lap, the action not being missed by the younger Prince’s steely, unreadable gaze. You almost burn under it, but you chalk it up to the closed space.

He doesn’t respond, but simply tilts his head forward in a single nod. When you look back to Rhaekar upon Aegon’s lap, he rips his gaze from your face to the youngling’s.

In his mind, he is barely hanging on. Stuffed in a carriage with a brother he would rather wrangle than humour, a lady wife he is bound to duty alone and the sight of his childhood companion – love, friend, half of his heart, whatever that constitutes – wed and mothering a son with not only another man, but his own debauched brother. He would sooner die than stomach that.

But Aemond holds more restraint than most mortal men. At least, he thinks he does. His single eye traces over the soft of your son’s cheeks and the ovals of his eyes – all traces of Aegon. All traces of you. His hands clench against the thick leather of his pants, trying to seem indifferent, as his eye trains back to your face.

Your gaze floats back to his. Only the two of you understand that there is a tension floating between you, but you alone do not understand it. He is hard to read now, more than ever. The event at Drift-mark had shut you out from all his previous behaviours, his usual antics and juvenile tendencies. Now, a hardened and roughened man remained, whatever trace of friendship conjured in your childhood being a mere floating memory now.

At least, it seemed like it.

“Ah, here we are,” Aegon chimes blandly, pointing to the carriage window to ascertain which Lords were which, and which camps held best.

The moment breaks as the footman hurries to the door, and with it, you step outside beside Aegon and clutch Rhaekar at your chest with a smile. Beside you, Helaena and Aemond step awkwardly together. The sight of cheerful men and ardent cheers overwhelm you, and you push back the feeling arising in your chest with a lost sense of conviction.

The maids are gentle with your son, and it is all that you need to quell your thoughts and feeling heart.

You are able to catch a moment of reprieve amongst the tent that was erected for the likes of you and Aegon. Being the first born son, the tent served to reflect exactly that. It lay amongst the middle of the camp, green silks draped over wooden posts in different shades, like thick vines draping from the ceiling. Where there had been thick ground outside, had now been replaced by a verdant carpet, embroidered by gold all throughout. An extravagant faux-throne stood at a few steps to the right, and a swath of low cushions to your left – toys lay upon those cushions, with your son teething at a toy that a maid had gently placed at his feet.

Lords and Ladies flitted from here and there, passing like blurring bodies in your vision. A few stopped to greet you, and engage in conversation is pressing their advantage, though you were polite. There wasn’t much to look forward to – the small array of ladies gathered around chairs and carpets would surely do more to discomfort you than engage you in something meaningful.

At the back of the tent, a low serving table lay with refreshments. For all your knowledge, Aegon never really did reign in his inhibitions – there was already a pitcher half-full, and a goblet half-drunk on it. Aegon was somewhere, possibly entertaining some few of his many Lordly friends.

The ache of love could not be quelled by friendship.

You sip your wine slowly. In times like these, left alone to your own devices and given the option to drink, engage or settle with some ladies, your mind tended to wander instead. You tilt your cup to your lips, the sight of the fruitful wine giving way to a faint image in your mind.

It was his twelfth name day. You remember it so clearly – waking up before the maids and selecting your frilliest, prettiest gown for the occasion, frowning and whining when they insisted different colours and styles, fashioned with embroidery or gems.

You had wanted it to be special for Aemond.

Being one of his most beloved childhood companions, you wanted every intention to count. You knew it mattered when you stepped into the gardens, dressed in a delicate green gown, with red-dotted jewellery to dot your neck and fingers. He had been standing there, waiting anxiously, and nearly fell face front when he approached you.

You look… really pretty, he had stuttered.

Thank you, Aemond, you had giggled, enjoying the way his tongue had turned liquid in his mouth at the sight of you.

The plans had been made that day – whatever he wished for. When breaking fast, he couldn’t keep a hold of his tongue as he clutched your palm and led you hastily down the halls of the Red Keep. He knew that the day would entail later; extravagance and little time. Little time for you, and the thought soured his mind.

First, there was the clearing near the woods. He didn’t mind the presence of the knights trailing behind much, and neither did you. All he cared for was the feeling of perching his head nervously against your lap, fighting a smile as you braided flowers within his hair. It had been a sweet, long affair. Next, it had been the banquet dinner, and he had saved a space in the chair beside his own. His smiles never left you, his eyes always chasing your own, smiling bashfully when he did something worthy of impression to you.

And then, at the end of the day, past the pesky guards and the prying eyes of your parents – came the Dragon-pit escapade.

What if we get caught? Someone could see us, you voiced in worry, despite your eyes betraying the excitement broiling in your gut. Aemond had merely tugged at your wrist, boyish grip a little too tight for comfort, yet neither of you cared much.

No one will catch us, he smiled nervously, as though unsure of himself.

When the two of you tentatively descended the rocky steps of the massive crypt, you had held closer to him. Aemond tried to calm the jump in his pulse when your palm squeezed around his, or the way your shoulder bumped softly against the ridge of his back when the dark got too frightening.

Just stay close to me, he murmured. Though only a few centimetres taller than you, he was speaking with more confidence than what lay in him.

You had stayed close with a tight nod, your soft breath against his nape. He was scouring the darkness – the smell of Dragon-spit and smoke marred the air heavily, and the mechanical groans of a few of the pit’s creatures emboldened the darkness a little more. You clung to him even tighter, the silk of your dress pressing against his leathers. When the first dragon, however unrecognisable, had grown weary of your intrusion and lit its flame, you covered your eyes and ears. He had ducked you behind him, though he quivered just as much, and had covered you with both arms in an embrace.

Look, he had breathed.

And what a sight it had been.

Yellow climbed atop orange as dragon-fire spilled forth from a gargantuan throat of an unnamed dragon. It raised across the dark rock of the ceiling, lighting the space like a well-lit room, the heat bearing down against you like the summer season of the realm. Where there was fear, now there was also awe, as you and Aemond clung to one another. When the room dimmed, the two of you ran hand in hand above ground, falling atop each other in a hurry to rid of the pit’s darkness.

The added weight of you above him was barely registered, with your childish laughter filling the air in cacophonies, his hands a welcome weight against your hips. However that night ended, you do not remember. Did the two of you trek to the Red Keep in barely concealed laughter? Or did you peek at the stars when the guise of friendship had moved on to a tenderer feeling?

“My Lady?”

You blink like a fish out of water. Your wine is long gone, and you find yourself staring at the maid in front of you, who views you with the same sort of concentration, just a tinge of concern in her eyes.

It appears your thoughts might have drifted – Rhaekar had been fussing for you from the carpeted floor, barely able to sit still against the silk drapery and consoling maids.

“Forgive me—“ you begin, setting down your goblet and lifting yourself off the chair you had unknowingly seated yourself upon, approaching the child with a twinkling smile, “My sweet boy. Do you miss me?”

The boy babbles happily at your voice, recognising the soft tone of his mother’s voice. He clings to the collar of your blue silks, the embroidery against your collar being fisted in his little hands. You smile, entertaining the small boy as the maids watch with an affectionate smile.

From the corner of the room, Aemond watched. He always did – and he had been, especially now. His eye had lingered when you were day-dreaming. How twisted it was for an unreadable man of his station to desperately want to know the inner workings of another. He supposed he was this sort of man now – barred and unaffectionate, cruel by practice.

His duty to Helaena was just that. There wasn’t love, but a deep-seated admiration and bond with the quiet girl. He had been close with his sister, but he had never seen her as more – they had hardly sired heirs of their own. Targaryen customs had never repulsed him; he was no stranger to the much exercised practices of his house. But there was no deeper reason to feel more for her and the act of intimacy was hidden deep in his chest, unwilling to be made known to anyone but you. And she felt the very same with her own duty, seated in the far corner of the room, taken to her maid, who watches as she palms a spider carefully.

But you – God’s, you were different.

His childhood companion of when he was much too young to know of the atrocities of loss and shame, the one he chased with his eye alone and caught in a full room. He could abandon all feeling and you would still be in his chest, thudding place of his heart.

He could hardly tear his one, assessing eye off of you. Those silks, that draped off your form, curving against you in the places he wished he could memorise. Your hair wasn’t the silver of his Targaryen own, but a colour of your own – he had always admired it closely in childhood, perhaps another outlet of his devotion of you.

But now, watching you tend to your child, a child that he could easily confuse as his own, he felt something… in his gut.

He was that sort of man now – the sort of man who knew long ago of what he truly wanted.

“Trouble?” he asks smoothly, without much hesitation or emotion, as he crosses the room to stand beside you. His arms are folded behind his back, a habit he had developed with his roguishness, as he looks down at you.

You’re hardly surprised. You knew he would seek you out somehow – perhaps for conversation. It felt nice, for a moment, regarding him without looking into his eye and seeing the tension that lay within it, raw and confusing. You were forced to bury whatever you felt beneath lines of formality.

“He always is,” you smile at Aemond, dusting the front of your gown as you straighten to your full height, “Are you having a good time?”

“I suppose,” he hums. Brisk and short – you do not mind. You have grown used to that. But what makes your hair stand on edge is the look he gives you. Like he is studying you, trying to figure you out. His eye blinks towards the room, uncharacteristically relieved to find Aegon nowhere near, before he offers his arm.

“Walk with me.”

More demand than request, but his tone is not at all harsh and soft in his own way. Watered down and guarded but not forced, like it was nature to be with you so. Your heart flutters in your chest. There is no reason to deny.

“Lead the way,” you answer with a familiar smirk, which leaves a ghost of a smirk on his own lips. You leave the tent, arm warmly wrapped against Aemond’s own, after ensuring Rhaekar was satisfied with the stuffed renditions of dragons and the maids that coo at him when the drapery slides into place with your exit.

If the men assembled around the camp were surprised by your company, they made no show of it.

No protest rang as you and Aemond made for a thin path in the woods, mind anywhere but within the moment. The heat of your skin was warming his rib and arm, and the presence of him was making a familiarity dawn upon you.

Where there had been easy conversation in the past, there were silences and the light crunch of boot upon leaf. You didn’t blame him much – the change does not repulse you. He had always been a thoughtful boy in the past, and the silence had only grown. He tended to think more now, second guessing his words and choosing which words to best fit with you. He didn’t know where the two of you stood – was it fit to feel greedy even now?

The sounds of the creaking woods and crackling leaves are finally broken by his speech, “How are you?”

You look at him with mild surprise, a soft smile on your face as you regard him. His one eye is genuine as it looks upon you.

“Do you want the truth or something soft-sounding?” you jest, but he merely breathes softly.

“You know what I want,” he states with not so much as a smile, but his tone is light. Did you know what he truly wanted? Perhaps not. It would frighten you, surely.

“I am well. Rhaekar left me a little exhausted and sore, but the recovery has come along well,” you answer, “Truly, I am well.”

He pushes his luck, “And your marriage?”

It should surprise you, but it doesn’t. He’s always been eager at his hand, no matter how much restraint he had learnt over the years.

You sigh through your nose, “My duty, you mean. It is… not as horrible as it ought to be. Aegon is… well, Aegon. We perform what we must. He is a friend to me, in a way. No lover. But… it is good, I suppose.”

Something about the mention of a satisfactory marriage with his leech of a brother had his mind boiling with anger. He didn’t expect – much less hope – for you to be miserable. No, he was never that cruel to you. Perhaps to others, but not you. But the smell of friendship unnerved him. It was how he was taken to you – would Aegon follow that same path, find himself infatuated and easily claim your heart as it was already done legally through marriage? Would he standing by the sides when time would run out?

“Hm,” he repeats, monotone. He was clenching his fists, you notice, and visibly stiff against you. Something had angered him, and you wouldn’t just sit around to find out.

“What is it?” you ask, a frown on your face.

He takes note of it, almost wanting to press his index finger against the middle of your brows, to see the frown dissipate. But he held his hands back – that greed would get the better of him.

He steels himself, stopping by a large tree. It looms above the two of you, like a sledge-hammer, the roots taking place underneath your feet in bumps and ridges. The leaves are speckled across the vast amounts of branches, green and white in the cold sunlight. But the gaze he gives you is enough to warm your insides for good.

“It irks me,” he speaks truthfully for the first time in years, and for once, it feels freeing. His conscience is still heavy, “Your marriage with the… likes of him.”

You pause. This was traversing some grounds, this stupefying discovery and suspicion. Your vows and your duty flit through your head like the numerous scrolls in the Sept, the weight of the realm atop your shoulders. You had seen him in similar lights, but the truth almost made him vulnerable, angry. Fear griped at your chest, as you look at him like he was strange for saying such a thing.

“Well, it shouldn’t,” your voice is wary, a swallow diminishing the flurry in your belly, “We have a duty to uphold. Me, to Aegon. You to Helaena.”

He comes to a halt beneath one of the branches, disgruntled in a way that you cannot see. Aemond feels his tongue slacken in his mouth, the weight of another man’s anger resting in his body – or was it his? Hidden and barely known, even to himself? Was it the anger, the bitterness, that he held as young child, now refusing to be shown?

You notice his stiffness, but make no move to coax him out of him. He had to snap out of it.

“You have Helaena,” you repeat, softer if only it would soothe whatever line he was transgressing, “She is your lady wife.”

He scoffs. It is a sound that catches you off guard. In the past, he would have conceded and offered a hasty apology. Or perhaps in reluctance. But he was brash now, bolder. His shoulders squared, as his head moved an inch to look back at you, silver tresses spilling over the jerkin he wore.

“Helaena. She is my dear sister,” his voice is blank, “There was never any sort of love there. You know that.”

Your eyes widen. He was being truthful, more than usual. He was unravelling, surely, and the coldness of the forest sears away to be replaced with a warmth that nips at your heel. His eye only holds some light of anger and truth, never fear – but that is within him, refusing to be shown.

You look at your feet, distractedly picking your gown up from an edge of a root, “She is your wife, nonetheless.”

The words work more to anger him – you know this because a piece of his jaw sets in place, and he fully turns to face you. He had always been a head taller, but now, he was towering above you. Looming. The tree barely intimidated you as such – regal beauty closing in on you like Valyrian smoke.

“She is my wife,” he begins again, voice low. He approaches you, and you move backwards on cue. He stops upon notice, a sharp breath breaking the silence, “But you—“

“But me?” your voice is incredulous, “What about me? What am I to you but a friend from childhood—”

He moved closer, and you lose some semblance of control as he crowds your space. Your back presses against the bark of the large tree, uncomfortable and poking against the soft length of your gown. But you do not care, and neither does he. His fingers almost reach up to touch your arm, but he doesn’t dare. Not yet.

“Do not fool yourself,” he sneers, one eye looking down at you in a way that burns your skin once again, “You are more. You might have not known, but I did – you’ve always been more.”

His fingers finally concede, tracing the gooseflesh on your elbow as you twitch under him. Your eyes are wide and shocked, but you do not make a move to stop him, nor his words. He knows you are a proud lady by nature – you could easily make quick of this conversation and never return to him. But your eyes hold the truth. You’re half curious, as you are fearful and just as selfish as him, though you think of yourself better at hiding it. He smirks slightly.

“You should have been mine,” his eye searches your face, his finger trailing up to touch the side of your chin, a touch too soft.

If the bottom of your stomach hadn’t dropped before, it definitely had in this very moment. The leaves rustle softly as you feel your back scratch against the bark, your face warming where he touches you. The two of you are crossing a line, the both of you, because you make no move to leave. You lean into his touch ever so slightly, seeking for the warmth that lies there. Targaryens and their heat.

“We mustn’t,” your voice is weak, barely a deterrence, but you try anyhow. You know better than to give into the urges, the fears and hopes that belonged to a whole different time. A time where the two of you were much younger, and ignorant in a sweet sense, making light of the weight on your heart. But now, festering all throughout your adolescence, it had begun to take root, “We belong to others—“

Aemond makes a sound between a grunt and a scoff, as he traps you against the bark. His hands loop around your waist, the touch dangerous and a tell-tale warning of yourself and him, too, in a sense. But he doesn’t losen his hold, and you sigh shakily as he hauls you closer, chest to chest.

“We belonged to each other long before we belonged to others,” he manages in a ragged tone. In a tone that suggests that you knew better, just like he did, and that it was no better playing the fool. You supposed he was right – it was out in the open, and the two of you were chest to chest, like he’d tear your gown open and make love to you in the solace of the forest alone. Not much to hide now. Not much to disguise.

But still, you try. You pretended to not know better.

“That was in childhood—“ you struggle against his arms, heavy breaths stifling your lungs like sea-smoke as he comes so close, too close. His lips are at the corners of your own, his one eye so close as to depict the many different etches in his eyepatch, “I am your brother’s lady wife now.”

He tightens his hold around the small of your back, and you fail to ignore the warmth that builds all over. You are beginning to feel fuzzy, to let go of all your inhibitions, your restraint. And he was too.

“The laws of matrimony were forged by men,” he speaks smoothly against your lips, “They mean nothing to me—not when it comes to you.”

Your last ditch effort to deny crossing the line is futile – you sharply move your face away from him, the sight of his face ripping away from your line of vision. It proves to be a poor effort, because he merely grunts, grabbing your cheeks with his calloused digits and shifting it back to where it was before. It is almost violent in a way, if it weren’t for the tenderness in which he looked at you.

Every breath feels heavy, and your hands come to rest against his chest, not knowing whether to push or pull. Your restraint was slipping, and there was little to stop you now. You could barely deny yourself, let alone him.

“Look at me.”

The order is so simple and you curse at how your eyes float to his. It was such an easy thing – finding his eyes in the harrowing darkness of the Dragon-pit, peering into his good eye and trying to ignore the blood and gore that marred his other, trying to discern his thoughts with a look alone. You had looked so easily.

And he knew. God’s, Aemond knew it.

The truth lay in them, as they had all along. Even with one eye, he was left blinded. How could he have let the pretence of your duties hold him back, when you were there for the taking?

You knew it too – the lack of such a burn was abysmal in your own marriage. The presence of it now left you cloudy brained, hazy, and you couldn’t navigate the barest of thoughts. Before, caution would have been exercised. Now, there was an utter lack of it. A lack of patience, a lack of restraint, and a lack of all of which made you and Aemond.

With a slow pace, you let slide your hand against the nape of his neck, slowly trailing up and feeling the long strands that lay there, pale and silver against your fingers. You had once told him that it reminded you of star light. The truth stood now, even in the barely concealed brevity of your fingers. Not that you cared.

All restraint that the Prince had once retained in childhood snaps like a string and he surges forward. His lips are rough and a clatter of teeth, gum and tongue. He is not a patient man – so when he angles your head and licks against your lips, you keep your lips sealed for the thrill of it. Nevertheless, he wrenches your mouth open with his tongue alone, wrapping around your own like a muscle well-trained, noting every sigh and moan that escapes you.

His hands are all over you. There is surprise in the way it trails from your neck to your nape, to the back of your head and down your hip, his fingers thumbing your breast in the decline. You shudder against him, and he swallows your groan in earnest.

“So eager,” he drawls, though the need is thick in his voice, “I thought your vows meant more to you than this?”

“Fuck you,” you bite back, a strangled moan leaving you seconds later, as his fingers dive beneath your skirts and thumb your slit in a slow swipe. The words of retort die in your throat as you clutch fiercely to his shoulders, his pressing weight being the only source of support.

He smiled, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue, “You’ve always had a filthy mouth on you. A lady no less.”

No amount of breath could have braced you for the way in which his fingers dipped beneath the smooth fabric of your underwear, slipping past the pubic hair that lay there and catching your pearl in a tight-rounded flick. You moan in a way he hadn’t yet heard before, and his heart clenches uncomfortably. He had only ever felt such exhilaration when atop Vhagar, mapping the expanse of King’s Landing below. But he is greedy now – he knows that he can be.

He mouths a quiet ‘fuck’, as he positions his fingers in a way that breeches you so barely, before burying a long, lithe finger within you. He is not prepared for the way you buck against him, the broken syllables of his name leaving your lips – almost desperate. Did Aegon know that he was claiming his own wife so, with his fingers alone?

When his fingers ease you open enough, one too many to wrench just sighs out of you, he retreats his hand from your small-clothes. You whine at the loss of his warmth, the absence of the ball of his palm against your clit that warmed the wet flesh just right. He simply smiles, taking your earlobe into his mouth.

“Patience, ñuha jorrāeliarzy,” he purrs against the expanse of your throat. The odd, old language blends into his usual use of the common tongue, and you do not know how it excites you so. Perhaps the premise itself is so debauched – your childhood companion and the brother of your own husband dragging your own slick back and forth across your cunny, in the solace of a forest.

It only clicks after that he called you his love.

You can barely digest that thought when he barely steps back. His fingers hook against your small-clothes and yanks them down harshly, the fabric lying wet and soaked slightly between your legs. You feel no shame – you wish you did, because some clarity would do you some good. Instead, you hurriedly help him unlace the buckles of his leather, laces of his breeches. They lower enough to let his cock to spring free, sinful and dangerous as he presses the weight of him against you, dragging it across like a damn tease.

“Please,” you plead, breaths ragged and poor. He smirks, arms hooking under your shoulders to pull you closer against his chest.

“Your words, sweet girl,” he coos. The smirk that tears his face is devilish – you almost cower, if not for the lust clouding your system, the decade long affair boiling between you both.

“I need you to—“ you struggle at a swipe of his cock-head against your slick entrance, “I need you to—to fuck me.”

“Is that so?” he asks, amused, as he begins to press into you. So, so close, yet not enough.

You nod tearfully, “I need you—I’ve always needed you, and you’ve always known. I wish it was you. I wish we would have wed—“

The moan that rips through you is entirely his fault. The sharp way he breeches you, in one harsh moment – his fault. But who could blame him? The thought of you so desperate to change the course of fate, to be bound to him by matrimonial vows, makes his stomach burn. He knew he was a hypocrite – he had just sullied and mocked them, but if you were his by law, he would have made it count.

“Wanted you forever,” he grunts against your ear, cock spearing through you and splitting you in half against the bark of the tree. The bark bites into your back, and your hips begin to burn. He smells of Dragon-scale and fire. He must have ridden Vhagar sometime this week – it makes you clench tightly around him, as he stutters, pushing in deeper, “I would’ve wed you in a heartbeat, if not for those fucking duties.”

You aren’t faring any better than him, moaning and whining as he ploughs into you, holding you up with his strength alone as he batters you endlessly. He speaks again, pleasured at the sight of you so wordless, “Don’t care much for that. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. My insolent brother would do good to remember that—fuck.”

You clench against him again, “Aemond—“

“Could spill my come in you now,” he pants, angling your hips to reach further into you, like he was taking the good parts of you and sullying them, just so he could lay his claim on you, “That fool would never know—you’d be round and swollen with my babe and he’d never fucking know—”

Excitement and fear gripes at your heart, as you look up at him in slight alarm. But you cannot help but entertain the thought – the mere thought of him laying claim on you so viciously, a formidable dragon in his own right, not caring for whatever that kept you apart. Gone was the boy that feared overstepping, that feared distance. Here was a man that would make space if he wished for it, lay claim on you because he craved you so.

With a strangled call of his name, you bite his shoulder firmly – not enough to cause hurt, but enough to have him grunt – as you near your release. A creamy ring forms around the base of his cock when he looks below, and he knows the sight is his undoing. He is close – so close.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he taunts, yet spears in harder, “You’d like that so much.”

You can only nod helplessly, lost to the sensations swimming in your veins. He grunts through a wrangled moan, aroused by the way you let him.

It isn’t a surprise when you come first. It is a goal of his – as a man, to bring you ecstasy, before his own. But when he does come, it is deep within, a warmth that fills your body as he spills his seed deep inside your cunny. The two of you struggle against each other with ragged breaths, and his hand settles against the small of your back again, the touch leaving an impression.

“You’re insatiable,” you groan, though playfully, as you watch the product of his come drip from beneath you. He barely gives you any words, as his fingers collect the slick and quickly stuff the escaping wetness back in, ignoring the way your hips twitch away from him. Sensitivity. It makes him smile cruelly.

“Don’t you waste a bit of it,” he speaks, voice a drawl, thick with want. The weight of the truth lay between you two, but there was no need to navigate such a thing. You had known long, long before, even buried it underneath lays of flesh and bone.

He helps you dress again, and then himself, quick and expertly, your small-clothes containing the eager spill of his seed between your thighs. You do not miss the way his one eye glitters with some dangerous sense of pride, how he kisses your neck only so slightly. You smile, laughing softly, as he curls into the side of you, claiming a part of you and aiming for more – until you smell of nothing but Dragon-smoke and sweat.

“Let’s head back, before the others grow suspicious. For good reason,” you tug at his arm, your smile a balm against the ruined convictions of his past.

He offers a rare smile, letting himself be led away by you, just like in childhood, “Let’s.”

There was no need to fret the words – the two of you have always known, in some sense. Perhaps you’ll figure the future out sooner than you had before, with the added weight of him against your body.

© 2024 qvrcll. Do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 2)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.

P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches

“Y/N Tessio?”

“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 

Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 

This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 

Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.

Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 

“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.

And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 

He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.

Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.

“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 

“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 

"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.

"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.

Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.

In Europe.

But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.

It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 

“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”

“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 

But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 

“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 

So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 

Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 

You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 

Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.

“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 

Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 

You didn’t react. 

You didn’t have to. 

All you did was keep watching the birds. 

Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.

“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 

“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 

You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 

“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 

“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”

You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”

“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”

“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 

Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 

“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 

“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.

Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.

Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan. Japan!

“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.

“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 

Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.

But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.

“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 

“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”

Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 

“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”

Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.

There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 

“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 

Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 

“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 

“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 

This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.

Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  

“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”

Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 

Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 

Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 

There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 

< prev ch [1] | next ch [3] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery

[the-moon-files]

I was actually thinking about this a lot but like as an add on to your humans are hylian space orcs thing. I am in ✨need✨ of reader trying potions. Like;

"This potion will restore your stamina and boost your strength"

"Buddy that's just coffee"

"Qué?"

Even worse if when the reader tries it it's just like the most not strong coffee they've ever drank. Makes the guys wonder wtf makes humans need so much energy through out the day.

this is such a cute idea, i love how diet diffs/energy diffs in humans are space orcs aus, so genius to apply to hylians

the stamnia boost potion tastes just like instant coffee with powdered creamer (the kind at like car dealerships/shitty offices where its not even a little liquid creamer)

and u spit that shit out like wtf is this bs

and Four, poor guy who gave you some after talking a break from walking, is like "oh my goddess r u allergic?? can still breath???"

meanwhile ur like. "yeah this just tastes like shit-"

four: "oh well yeah, all potions do really-"

you: "-ty coffee. this is nowhere near strong enough to get me back on my feet ffs"

four: " 👁️👄👁️"

you: "u got anything stronger? :/ "

four: " w h a t ? "

cue u researching how to make stamnia potions, across the hyrules, and making them 10x stronger so theyre like an actual coffee shop kind of coffee, and the Links are literally lowkey scared

Time forbids you (and the rest of the guys) from letting anyone else try ur "improved" elixir (s)

bc yes, u didnt stop at stamnia

u moved on to healing potions, (u can now regrow limbs and heal broken bones, the hylians can only take like a 1/16th of a sip like once a week, whereas u chug the whole thing, and can do so multiple times a day if needed)

u also moved onto cooking, bc rlly how different is cooking from alchemy?

and goron spice tasted like goddamn dorito chips, so u used essence of literal lava to help make it more spicy,

ur not allowed to introduce this new spice to the gorons, Wild forbid, bc he was adventurous enough (and snuck behind Time and ur backs) to try some spice

(he literally touched the tip of his pinky finger to it, wiped it off, except for 1 like flake of spice too)

and it lowkey nearly killed him 💀

like had to use that 1/16th of ur extra strong healing potion and everything

u felt so bad, but he did do this to himself,

and Wild knew the gorons dont back down from a challenge, esp since it was originally their recipe, so he (and you) didnt wanna kill them on accident

the sleeping potion u found is just like taking a single melatonin gummy, so u ofc make that thing knock even you out after 2 sips,

needless to say, no one is trying that one, not only bc it knocked Rulie unconcious for 12 hours straight (u got him to try it after he exhausted all his magic healing, and so no nightmares)

but bc it knocked u out cold for 9. that was the scarier part to them lmao, was how affected is their human by this?

i like to think thats how they judge unknown foods and liquids too,

like "do you think this tastes unseasoned? ok should be perfect for me then" - every Link

"oh this didnt make u feel sleepy at all/barely tired? great, id love to knock out cold w/no nightmares tonight" - Sky, probably

"this tastes like that thing you call, instant cough? ko-fee? Cool, give me some i need to run up this mountain" - Wild, for the 3rd time this month probably

"this barely healed ur papercut? sweet, give me some my wrists are killing me" - poor Legend, he uses ur extra strength healing potion as a way to treat his arthritis regularly once a month, but the more chill potions for any leftover aches and pains, esp after long fights being hard on his arms

Chain is simultaneously still lowkey terrified u need that much extra oomf, esp when u run out of stronger stuff and have to down like 5 health potions to heal a cut that needed stitches,

and also worried u need that much and also Wild/Wars/Rulie tend to work overtime to make sure they have extra potions for you

and theyre also kind of impressed, bc hey, youre unlikely to get magically poisoned/potion poisoned like them

☆

sorry i couldnt think of as much as i hoped, i think its bc i rlly just need to play/watch more loz games besides botw/totk

i like know the vague plot of ss/oot/mm/tp/ww/hw and og loz games, but havent gotten into details/lets play or anything yet

i hope this was at least a half decent idea to think about/expand on urs, have a great rest of ur week, and thanks so much for the ask!! <33

Peace out,

🌙

[cryptidcr3ature]

Assigning rdr characters zodiacs since they didn’t give us birthdays to do it ourselves

Dutch- I know he’s a Leo, but I feel July Leo. Dramatic ass man.

Hosea- Libra. Theater kid, con man, self confident. I know what’s up.

Arthur- Taurus. He’s suchhhh a Taurus. Hard worker, stubborn, and typically a follower but will stand up for himself. I feel it. May Taurus

Abigail- ARIES WOMAN!!! I love Aries, my best friend is an Aries and they take no shit, especially from romantic partners. Driven, but so caring.

Micah-Sagittarius. I know I said Virgo in my initial post but that’s just my personal beef against Virgo men. He’s nearly as dramatic as Dutch but no where near as suave. He adds to Dutch’s flame till it’s out of control.

John-Cancer. “What choice did I have?” Never taking blame and takes a smack in the face to correct behavior. June cancer energy (I’m a cancer too so I’m calling myself out)

Sean-Scorpio, 100%. Sex driven, emotionally charged, quick to act out, cried after trying to kill Dutch and Hosea. Typical Scorpio energy.

Lenny-Capricorn. Lenny leads with his head over his heart. However, when he follows his heart, dear god get away.

Javier-Virgo. Virgos are always 5 steps ahead of you. I’ve also been burned by more Virgos than any other sign. Still if you got something you need done, a Virgo has a plan.

Bill- Sagittarius. The toxic masculinity and the bluntness of bill williamson makes me lean towards Sagittarius. I feel like maybe he’s a November Sagittarius though.

Trelawney- GEMINIIII!!! I personally love Gemini but everything is a performance with them. Different to the Leo main character syndrome, Gemini try to preform who they think you want them to be.

Charles-Scorpio. This one took a while and a lot of flip flopping but then I realized that Charles is an October Scorpio. Compared to the more open November Scorpio, Charles has a more introverted, bottled up personality. He’s emotionally reserved but once you get to know him, you can tell exactly how he’s feeling and what he’s up to.

Kieran- Pisces. Sweet boy, water sign energy. Slightly pathetic. Definitely March Pisces. 

Sadie- Pisces. February Pisces woman. She will stab you for someone she loves, and won’t hesitate to do it again.

Mary-Beth- Cancer. July in particular and demonstrates the more hopeless romantic and creative nature of Cancers. Also I know she’s got that intuition.

Tilly- Aquarius. She’s reserved but will kill you without warning. Don’t cross an Aquarius.

Karen-Capricorn. Capricorn burnout is so real and Karen is a prime example of what happens when you don’t keep your Capricorn on the straight and narrow.

Molly-Leo. Her last scene, that’s all.

I’ve been working on this for 40 minutes now and the melatonin is kicking in. Enjoy.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Maybe The Narrator, Tyler and Male Reader as like a lil throuple or something? it can be anything idm🙏

Jack “The Narrator” x Tyler Durden x male reader

Relationship headcanons I guess?

I love this gif,,,, whys he wearing his pants like that? who does he want to grab his hips like that, men???

Tyler is a real person in this universe, cuz it’s easier to write.

How tf did you bag not one mentally ill delusional guy, but two? Honestly, hats off to you. Cuz either you have to be just as unstable as them, or be weirdly too stable to even out their crazy.

So, depending on which, Tyler might not even pull off project mayhem if you are there to reel him in like a rabid Pomeranian wearing one of those full body harnesses.

Jack on the other hand just has so much insomnia it makes him kinda crazy, cuz not sleeping for a long time will drive you insane. Get this guy some sleeping meds, a noise machine, a weighted blanket and some of those melatonin gummies.

If you first start dating them after they start fight club, maybe you even met them there cuz one of your coworkers invited you, they’d still be kinda delulu and out for blood this time around.

Jack seems like he falls fastest, but Tyler falls hardest. You either deck both of them into the ground because its your first night at fight club, or they deck you and think you look so handsome with a bloody nose.

They’d keep circling you at fight club every week, in the beginning Tyler only does it cuz Jack likes you, and maybe Tyler is a little jealous you are taking his friends attention. At some point you’d be invited to their place.

Damn bitch, yall live like this? You try to be polite about it, but its kinda clear they live in a shithole. Screw Tyler’s whole, not owning anything and rejecting modern needs, you need a functioning shower and cable tv.

If Tyler bitches too much about your preferences, you just only invite Jack over, which has Tyler reeling too. So, whilst you are on the couch with an arm around Jack, Tyler can sit on his weirdly soggy mattress and pout.

I think we can all agree that Tyler would be jealous and possessive very easily, think a dog that seems chill, maybe a little hyper, but then snarling and snapping at anyone who comes near you or Jack. You are his, and his alone, so everyone else can stay away.

Jack is jealous and possessive too, but he’s less obvious about it, to others at least. You can tell from the way he glares or clenches his jaw, or how he bites a bit too hard when he makes hickeys on either you or Tyler.

Again, you are the most mentally stable out of all three of you, so you don’t get jealous that easily, compared to them. But that also means when you do get jealous, it has both Tyler and Jack climbing the walls, because its so hot to them.

Especially if you had to fight someone because they kept coming onto either of them, seeing you with a sneer and a bloody fist immediately has both these dudes feeling all types of hot under the collar.

Tyler is definitely a sloppy kisser. He kisses like he fights, overpowering and controlling, bites at your lips a bit too hard and grips the back of your neck and only let’s go when he’s gotten his fill.

For Jack it depends on how he’s feeling, if he’s feeling alright, he’s got the more normal kisses, maybe even just pecks. But if he’s wound up, jealous, or sleep deprived its more like how Tyler kisses.

But kissing them is also your best distraction method if either of them are getting a little too out there. Kissing or like, scruffing them or wrestling them a bit. Just keep in mind the last two most likely lead to something more.

Tyler is a blanket hog, whilst also somehow filling the bed as much as possible. Stretches out all his limbs, or keeps scooting closer to you and jack until you two are pressed up against the wall, whilst Tyler has the rest of it.

Jack is sticky when he sleeps, that meaning he’s hanging onto you. Got both arms and both legs wrapped around you, head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat cuz it helps him sleep. Sleeping between these two is hell in the summer.

[holycoco]

Learn how to Romanticise School

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Hi jelly beans,

I’m Mary and here’s my tips to start romanticizing this school year…✎ᝰ

౨ৎ Take melatonin for a good, long resting sleep!(It can help for my girlies with imsonia)

౨ৎ Wake up early! Having a good time to get ready can really help… You just don’t need rushing up from left to right, control is key.

You can also have extra time to read your notes, and be prepared.

౨ৎ Find a cute bag for school, you can find anything on Vinted. (Shop for real leather always, I know its not very ethical, but it lasts you decades AND its secondhand!)

౨ৎ Plan your outfits, the night before.

Save your time. This tip is also for my lazier dolls, or my girlies that don’t know what to do the night before school!

(You can also find really cute things on Vinted, ask me if you need any keywords!)

Oh and cute jackets or fur!

౨ৎ Do your skincare!

And find a cute easy makeup routine! (If you wear some)

౨ৎ Breakfast! If you’re not a morning eater like me, try to eat in a Bar or Café near school, by the time you’re at school you’ll be hungry!

If you don’t feel eating anything at all, have a warm drink, I’m a tea girly.

Try not to skip breakfast!

౨ৎ Create or find a cute gloomy/fall playlist!

(Let me know if you’d like one from me!)

౨ৎ Shows to watch after school:

Gilmore Girls and Gossip Girl are classics, but there’s a bunch of other good shows out there!

(Charmed, One Tree Hill, AHS, TVD, PLL, Salem)

౨ৎ Books! Take your books to school with you, read on the bus, on the train, break-time!

౨ৎ Cute school furniture! Do I need to say anything more?

If you have any suggestion or tips just add them!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

love, Mary

[miaclemeverett]

amazon standing lamp - using drugs and sex and other unhealthy distractions and coping mechanisms to deal with losing people you love out of your own fault. the top-heavy amazon standing lamp part is a really old wilbur joke (back in 2020 he joked about naming a song this) and it also reminds me of how (i think it was him?) he once said that he moves house so often that he loses so many belongings and only has a few things left that he cares about, i think this pairs really well in the song how the artificial meaningless things are all that remain

mine / yours - the breakdown of a relationship, seeing the warning signs and the things you take for granted assuming a person will stay with you forever despite it all

around the pomegranate - this song reminds me a lot of "since i saw vienna", when a place (california in this song) becomes so married to a person that it serves as a source of comfort and nostalgia for when things were simple and happier. being on the road you can never set down roots and people come and go from your life

i don't think it will ever end - he lives life in front of millions of people (chat in this song) watching his every move, like an actor he either has to play the part he's made for himself or isolate himself from this audience, it's a repetitive cycle that sends him downhill

glass chalet - back in the dark days of 2021 i remember wilbur would always joke (SLASH SERIOUS) about quitting streaming and disappearing off the face of the planet for years without a single word. VERY HEALTHY MINDSET exhibited right here in this song

melatonin 130 - I LOVE 100 GECS!! but in all seriousness the constant reminder that you have mental illness/anxiety your entire life and you can only cope with it, that it impairs you even when you should be happy cus obviously you're living out what you thought was your dream and everyone else thinks you should be on top of the world duh!

oh distant you - JUST KILL ME. your sister was right but WORSE!!!!!!!! again you take for granted that someone will stick with you forever and only after it's over realizing that you can't fill the hole where they were. and again we're back on fixating on who is the villain in this narrative

eulogy - your sister was right but worse 2, this song focuses on the whispers (good and bad) leftover from a relationship. harkening back to screensaver where he says that the subject in talking about their relationship basically makes him sound like hitler, and your sister was right where he talks about the warning signs the subject should have seen, this squarely places the blame on him

dropshipped cat shirt - I LOVE 100 GECS!!! but anyway the grueling day-to-day of being on the move, singing to people who adore you and make up a version of you in their head, latching onto unhealthy coping mechanisms to keep going, you have everything you ever needed and wanted but you're bored out of your mind

the median - short but sweet! as i said earlier, wilbur always has to play a part, and this audience projects their version of himself as the truth

trying not to think about it - I KNOW I PUT DAMN NEAR THE WHOLE SONG DOWN HERE BUT LISTEN. again realizing how much you take for granted the assumption that someone will stick with you forever. wilbur has mentioned before how as a hypochondriac, he's never taken seriously by doctors whenever he doesn't feel well. also this idea of romance and love as something just for the aesthetic, not as something that gives you stability and meaning but realizing that it can be that for you until its too late.

10 week rule - who got him pregnant?? but in all seriousness i think this can be read as a way of turning a new page, but obviously its not as simple as just getting rid of something unwanted

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You… (Part 10)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sadness, crying, early stages of homesickness??, Chan being turned on🤭, (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷️ : @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Series Masterlist

(Authors note at the end)

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

Y/N’s POV

Hearing my alarm clock, I roll over to shut it off. I had a surprisingly restful night's sleep, although I needed to take a second melatonin as the first one didn't help. Fortunately, the airport is conveniently located near my accommodation, and the journey there should only take about 5-10 minutes. After reviewing my flight details, I realized the total travel time would be almost 19 hours. Despite the long journey, I'm relieved there's only one layover before I board the second flight to Seoul.

As I start getting dressed and closing up all my bags, I take one last look around the room, which has brought me comfort and has been the starting point of my journey. Leaving behind a place with special memories is always a bittersweet moment. I know I could still come back and visit, but for now, this was goodbye. I smile, happy that I'm going outside my comfort zone to do something I'm passionate about. As I look around, I bring my bags to the front door.

I had to wake up earlier than planned because my flight was unexpectedly early. My family decided to get up with me to give me a proper send-off. The others were coming to the airport to say one last goodbye. I walked into the kitchen and found my grandmother preparing breakfast for everyone. Seeing my grandfather awake was a pleasant surprise, as his sleeping pattern is usually worse than mine.

“I made breakfast for all of us to eat for the last time together.” I smile at her and thank her for the food. “You know, maybe sometime after I get settled in, you can visit. See South Korea with me. I can also come home anytime I want.” I take her hand and his in mine, I reassure them, "I'm not disappearing forever. I promise to visit as much as I can." They hold on tighter, expressing their sadness at not always seeing me. "I'll have to show him how to FaceTime you," my grandmother says.

“Hey! I know how FaceTime works.”

“Oh really? Then where is it on your phone?”

“Same place it's always been in.” Their playful behavior never fails to bring a smile to my face. I think I'll miss this the most.

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

As I prepared to leave, my family gathered to spend some final moments with me. One by one, they came up to say their heartfelt goodbyes.“Hey, Y/N/N, you better not be a stranger now. I don’t want to come there myself to teach you a lesson.” I roll my eyes at my stepbrother’s goodbye. “I love you too, man.” My stepsister is next to come up and hug me. “Send me pictures, yeah? And let me know if you meet any cute guys over there. I wanna know all about it!” I smile, her not knowing I’m already talking to two of them. “Hey now! If you meet any guys, I’mma need their information. That means their name, date of birth, social security number, everything!”

“I’m not giving you anything!” I retort back to my stepbrother. He, in return, shakes his head. My grandparents come up next, giving me their hugs and goodbyes. “Make sure you don’t eat a lot of junk food; you must maintain weight and stay healthy.”

“I will, Nanny; I love you.” She smiles, giving me a tight hug for a small woman. “You take good care of yourself. Since we won’t always have you to help us, Y/B/N must do it for us.” At that comment, my stepbrother exploded, saying how he gets left with my responsibilities of caring for my grandparents and how I need to come back more often to help them. I ignore him and move on to my grandfather.

“You stay safe now, okay? I want you to be able to defend yourself in case someone breaks into your apartment. Do you have your stuff?” I nod, telling him I do and giving him a big hug. I am telling him to take care of himself, and if he ever feels up to it, maybe I can get him and my grandmother a trip over to see me. My dad comes up and pulls me into a hug.

“I want you to call me when you get there, okay? So that way, I know you made it there safely.” My dad tells me. I smile, “I’ll call you when I get there, but you have to remember that I’ll be in a different time zone, so it may be late into the early morning hours before I call.”

“I don't care what time it is; as long as I get a phone call from my baby that she’s okay, I’ll be happy.” I hug him long and hard. Being one of my biggest supporters since I was little, it’s hard to say goodbye to him. I could feel my tears starting to surface. Last is my stepmom; she’s already got tears in her eyes, and mine is beginning to fall. She pulls me into a hug, and the water dam breaks.

As I realize that I won't get to see these amazing people every day, doubts start creeping in about whether this was the right decision in the first place.

When she pulls back, it’s like she’s reading my mind. “I understand that it can be daunting to think about not seeing us every day. However, if you don't step out of your comfort zone, you'll never be able to explore the world as you've always wanted. You will surely be missed, and although your dad and I are homebodies, we'll come to visit you. We love you immensely and want nothing but the best for you. It's time to chase your dreams and become the person you've always wanted to be.” I nod my head and give her a tight hug.

I release her and gather my belongings, taking my first steps toward my new future. As I walk away, I look back at my family again. A stray tear rolled down my cheek as I bid them farewell with a wave. I turn back, holding my head high. I've committed myself to the fact that no matter what challenges come my way, I will never give up on pursuing my dream. Although my heart aches now, I know it will slowly heal with time.

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

“Welcome to Seoul, South Korea! It is currently 2:30 pm on August 16th.” My sleepiness drowned out the rest of the words. I usually don't sleep on planes, but I did this time. I grab my bag from above, leave the aircraft, and move towards the baggage area. Once receiving my luggage, I headed toward the exit, stopping to find something to eat since all I'd had were airplane snacks.

I discovered a cozy restaurant with a promising menu and went to a table, taking a seat to enjoy my meal. I eagerly indulged, savoring each bite as if it were my last. It was a relief to have some time before officially starting my new job the following week, allowing me to settle in and get organized. While I've already started my new job, I don't have to be on-site until next week.

I had compiled a list of essential tasks, including unpacking, stocking up on groceries, and setting up my new apartment. At that moment, my next priority was to arrange for an Uber to take me to the apartment complex where I would be staying.

After finishing my meal, I disposed of the food container and took out my phone to track the arrival of the Uber. I made a mental note to call my Dad once I reached the apartment. When the Uber arrived, I confirmed the driver's name, and they assisted me in loading my luggage into the vehicle.

I provided them with the address, and upon reaching my destination, I expressed my gratitude and proceeded inside to complete the check-in process. The attendant was incredibly friendly, and the paperwork was swiftly handled, allowing me to receive my keys promptly. I lugged my belongings into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor.

As I reached my apartment door, I eagerly swung it open and lugged all my belongings inside. After securing the lock, a deep sigh escaped my lips. The long flight had left me utterly drained. I quickly dialed my dad's number and left a voicemail, letting him know I had arrived safely. Collapsing onto the nearby couch, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.

Although the temptation to drift off to sleep was strong, I knew I had things to take care of. I reluctantly pushed myself off the comfortable couch, picked up my luggage, and carried it to my room. I was fortunate to have found a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a convenient washer and dryer combo.

I surveyed the array of living essentials I had recently acquired, realizing that I also needed to stock up on groceries. Choosing to address this need immediately, I retrieved my purse and keys and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. Having previously researched nearby markets, I headed to the closest one and embarked on a shopping trip that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.

Upon returning home with bags of groceries, I meticulously organized and stored each item in the kitchen. Subsequently, I assembled the furniture and set up my home office, methodically putting together the bed, nightstand, and desk. As I progressed through these tasks, everything seemed to fall into place seamlessly. However, as the day turned to evening and fatigue began, I succumbed to exhaustion.

After ensuring the door was securely locked, I went to the shower. I was thankful I had taken a shower earlier, as I was too tired to rewash my hair that night. Following my usual evening routine, I finally collapsed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep, I sent a good night message to my family, locked my phone, and surrendered to the beckoning of slumber.

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

The week flew by, and I was pleased to find that the rest of my belongings had arrived in the same condition as when they were picked up. I made a mental note to thank the CEO of the moving company for their excellent service. My coworkers kindly came over to assist me in moving all the furniture upstairs and arranging it in the best possible positions.

I appreciated the support of others as I tackled the challenge before me. It was satisfying to see everything arranged just as I had envisioned. Adapting to the time change this week has been quite a feat. It's a new experience for me, and although it's been difficult, I'm confident I'll adapt in due time. I've taken the opportunity to explore, but I've been cautious as I don't know anyone here. Watching crime shows has made me more vigilant about my surroundings, and I'm hesitant to engage with unfamiliar individuals.

I could sense that the guys were starting to get suspicious of me because I'd changed my usual texting routine and avoided their calls. I know I'm not improving things, but I have a video next week to explain what's happening. I'm just holding out until the video is ready to be released. Until then, they will have to wait a bit longer.

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

Third Person POV

The men had every reason to feel wary. It seemed as though she was privy to information that they were not. The other members could sense the shift in their elders, but none were willing to confront the issue. They chose to ignore the obvious problem rather than address it. Chan decided to step aside and call Y/N. He hadn't informed any of the others, especially Minho. He felt guilty for concealing such an innocent action but wanted to keep this secret longer.

Y/N had been behaving unusually lately. She confided in him that she was going through some changes that were causing her stress and exhaustion. He was concerned but didn't want to pressure her. When she answered his call after the second ring, she sounded cheerful as always. "Hi, Channie!" she greeted him with a tone that flushed his face at the affectionate nickname. "Hey, Y/Nnnie, how have you been? I haven't heard from you much," he inquired. Her laughter on the other end was sweet and infectious. "I'm doing fine. I was actually on my way to work," she replied. Confusion crossed his face. 'Work? Shouldn’t she be in bed by now?’ he inquires.

Not realizing she was calling for him. "What do you mean work? I thought you would be in bed by now?" Y/N freezes as she realizes her mistake. She berates herself, thinking, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' while hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Ah, well, I'm not uhh… I mean, I am I….URGHHH!” The moment her brain decides to take a break is precisely when she needs it the most. Chan is completely bewildered now, eagerly waiting for her response.

After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she finally admits something. “Look, there may have been some major changes in my life right now, and I wanted to surprise you when the time was right. I have a video coming out today that will explain everything. That's all I can tell you.” Chan nods his head, then forgets he isn't FaceTiming her. “Okay, love. I'll be patient and wait for your video. Afterward, I expect no more hiding things, okay?”

“Yes, sir, you have my word.” Chan shouldn't have been affected by those words, but coming from her, it felt like a shock just went through his body. “Anyways, I have to go, Channie; we’ll talk later, yeah?” After they said their goodbyes, Chan returned to the room with a huge smile and a semi-hard in his pants.

(A/N: I couldn't help myself; I had to do it. Also, I put in a sad, departing moment with the family. I hope you all enjoyed it and look forward to the next chapter!)

[chvnnie]

thinking about giving this man ^^^ head in an airplane bathroom.

SMUT - MINORS DNI

Jisung is finding it hard to sleep. Adjusting the firm pillow the flight attendant gave him over and over, trying to find a comfortable position. Against the window? No. Reclined back? No, and now Minho is kicking his seat. Resting on the seat in front of him? No, not after Seungmin kicked his seat back.

Fuck, he’s not asking for a lot here. Even just thirty minutes of rest is better than staying awake for the majority of this long flight. Putting the pillow in his lap, he throws his head against the headrest, letting out a quiet groan of frustration. He even took melatonin — why is it damn near impossible?

Not to be dramatic, but he doesn’t even think he remembers what sleep feels like.

You, on the other hand, look like a peaceful little angel. Curled towards him in your seat, pillow against the armrest. You were asleep well before the plane even taxied, snoring by the takeoff.

He can’t help but glare at you, eyebrows furrowed as he stares enviously. You didn’t even touch the pill bottle, it’s not fair that you get to sleep without any assistance.

It’s petty, and Jisung knows it, but if he can’t sleep. Neither can you.

“Baby.” He mumbles, running his fingers softly through your hair. Not wanting to wake you aggressively, but needing you to be up with him.

There’s a cute scrunch of your nose before you start to stir, bringing your fists to your eyes. “Are we there?” Your voice is so groggy, a little whiny from your nap being cut short.

“Not yet.” He keeps his voice low, wanting the conversation to be kept to your shared row. “I can’t sleep.”

You groan, sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “Take more melatonin.”

“I already took the recommended amount. It’s not working.” He takes off his hat, running his hands through the messy locks. “Can you hang out with me for a bit?”

It’s so selfish of him to make you suffer alongside him, but isn’t that what relationships are all about? Mutual suffering on bumpy airplane rides?

With a sigh, you sit up, the sleep still heavy on your face. He’s lucky that you love him, or you would’ve already attempted to suffocate him with your pillow. Lifting the armrest, you scoot closer to him. Jisung lifts his arm to let you lean into his side, cuddling in the small airplane seats.

Immediately he relaxes into the seat, your weight on his body soothing him. You hoist your right leg over his left, letting the limbs tangled together. This feels better, like the soft hand of slumber is finally wrapping around his wrist. Dragging him into the peaceful realm to spend the last few hours of the flight—

—but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Sure, it’s nice to feel your body heat, but it also makes his body betray him. Cock starting to swell in his sweats as you adjust in the seat, practically sitting on his lap.

Ah. Fuck. Is this why he couldn’t sleep? Was some part of his subconscious keeping him up for this?

It’s hard to miss the erection; you easily brush against in the cramped space. Tilting your head up from the resting spot on his shoulder, you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, hands starting to wander down your body. Slipping between your legs to pull you closer. “You just feel nice.”

You giggle softly, nudging your nose against the bare skin of his neck. “Is this why you woke me?”

“No, baby, I swear—“

“I’m not mad.” Your teeth scrape beneath his ear, pulling a shaky breath from him. “Do you want help?”

Fuck. Fuck yes, he does. Jisung feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, taking shaky breaths as he nods his head. You peek over the top of the seats, checking to see if anyone seems to be paying too much attention to the two of you.

All sound asleep, a symphony of snores louder than the roar of the engines in first class. Perfect.

There’s no need for a discussion, both of you quickly undoing your seatbelts and moving into the tiny bathroom towards the front of the plane. You enter first, leaving Jisung to stand near the door.

Not necessarily a preferred location for an intimate moment, but when in a pinch, Jisung can’t find the will to care.

You drop to your knees as he unties his joggers, pulling both them and his boxers down in one go. Tongue rolled out, a bit of spit clings to the end of it, dripping onto his shoes.

“Fuck.” He groans at the sight, threading his fingers in your hair as he pulls your head closer. “Come here, sweet thing.”

The second his cock slides in your mouth, your eyes flutter back. A muffled moan vibrating your throat as Jisung slowly starts to move his hips. Maybe it’s the turbulence, maybe it’s the thrill of getting blown thousands of feet in air, but he swears you’ve never felt so good.

“Goddamn it.” He grunts, bottoming out with your nose against his pubic bone. You look so blissful, completely relaxed even as you let out little chokes around his length. “Look at you, swallowing my cock so well.”

That’s when your eyes open, bright and happy from the praise. Oh, you are the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. So eager to just have a taste of him that you’ll take it whenever, wherever he wants it.

He should really take advantage of your mouth more.

When Jisung starts to fuck your face again, it’s rougher. Each thrust hitting the back of your throat, gags getting louder and sloppier. Spit is making his cock glisten, rolling down to his balls and giving him the chills.

Can you believe he wanted to be asleep? What a waste of time.

You ground yourself by holding onto his thighs, nails digging into the skin and causing your partner to hiss. The sting of it makes everything so much better — a bit of pain mixed in with his pleasure. It’s what shoots him higher, body tumbling in outer space and threatening to explode.

“Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum.” He grunts out, head making a thump as it hits the restroom door. The confession excites you, sucking on his cock harder as if trying to force it out of him.

He can’t take it. Fuck, it’s so good, your mouth working like it’s your only job. Bringing him a mind blowing pleasure. Right as his head starts to stretch, ready to blow, he pulls you off his cock. Ropes of cum cover your face in hot, heavy waves. All over your forehead, cheeks, chin. There’s so much of it, painting you so prettily.

There’s not a thought in his head as he hauls you to your feet. Your eyes are shut, careful not get any in your eyes as he switches positions with you. Pinning you to the wall, he presses his body against yours.

Then, you feel his tongue on your face, cleaning his own mess for you. It’s filthy, the way he groans when the salty flavor fills his mouth, warmth sliding down his throat. There’s no way you can keep your eyes shut, blinking them open quickly to see the ravenous look on his face.

Feral. Hungry. So far out of his right mind that you’re almost terrified of what he’s capable of.

“Don’t make a sound.” He whispers, voice darker than you’ve ever heard it. Tongue flicking across your chin, you barely register the hand that’s wrapping around your throat. “Unless you want this entire plane to hear me fucking destroy you.”

[dullgecko]

I think that if Riz were to like actually sleep on his own, and like actually sleep *well*, he'd need like a whole set up. Like he needs a white noise machine at a specific volume to block out his thoughts, but not so loud he can't still hear the world around him. He needs a sleepytime tea, it needs to be dark, possibly enclosed. Bonus points if there's someone else there. He makes due with four hours of passible sleep because I don't think he has ever put that much thought into sleeping.

The person with the next neediest sleep needs is probably Fabian, who can sleep in adventurer standard places, but he's so much more used to sleeping on expensive sheets. After Sophmore year you know it's cream sheets all the way. He has a white noise that plays mostly ocean sounds, and an entire skin care routine that he does at home. Kristen is probably the laxest sleeper, and could sleep anywhere, honestly. She can actually get rested from how Riz sleeps normally.

Goblins prefer sleeping around other people, it helps them maintain body heat and makes them feel more secure. They also need just a baseline level of noise from other people so they know there's someone on watch. If the entire horde is asleep at the same time things are liable to get in and eat them.

Riz's moms not home at the same time he is very much, and if they are home at the same time she's usually exhausted from work and sleeping so Riz just stays awake and works on stuff so she can get a good nights rest. His mom and dad would go to bed at different times when he was little so they could swap off who would keep watch, but its just the two of them now and Riz is a self-sacrificing idiot for the people he loves.

If he's by himself and exhausted and actually has the energy to get ready and go to bed rather than passing out at his desk or on the couch its a whole ordeal. He'll have something hot to drink that's not coffee, have some melatonin tablets (his circadian rhythm is completely shot from being a nocternal creature going to school during the day), he'll have a hot shower and get changed, and he'll smoosh up into the tiniest ball possible in one corner of his bed. He still doesnt sleep super well like that though.

He's actually better rested now that he's in highschool because he has friends who are so much larger than he is with comfortable bags. He'll usually at least get a solid nap in two to three times a week because the background noise of his friends classes, combined with the knowledge that they're awake and 'keeping watch' makes him fall asleep easier.

Fabian can sleep practically anywhere if need be. Sitting upright against a tree, on an uncomfortable sleeping mat, straight up on the ground, on a rocking ship. ANYWHERE. He is, however, a man with refined tastes and if he's given the option of luxury he will grab it with both hands. His party was actually a little shocked because they thought he would be the most precious about how he sleeps but if they're on an adventure he doesn't really give a shit. This is how adventurers do it. If he's at home though it takes him a whole hour to get ready for bed.

Fabian is Riz's favorite party member to nap on partly because he doesn't move around very much in his sleep too. Gorgug tends to toss and turn a little and the first time Riz crashed next to him he nearly got squished. Kristen is straight up a menace in her sleep and kicks so she's also a no-go and Adaine wakes up too easily if he lies down near her and he doesnt want to disturb her. Fig is a close second to Fabian but only in winter or if he's pissed off at their fighter for some reason (he considers her basically his sister by this point so she gets all the cuddles when he's in a cranky mood. its not weird they're family their parents are dating).

Kristen is one of those infuriating people who, even if they only got three hours of sleep, is super chipper and loud most mornings. Noone is sure how she does it given that she should be exhausted all the time from the gymnastics she does in her sleep. Her party is convinced its some weird cleric thing.

Fig is fairly normal about her sleep arangements. She just needs somewhere comfortable and horizontal preferably with a pillow. She is a hugger though and if you get too close while she's half-asleep you'll get trapped. Before the whole archdevil thing she also needed a decent sleeping bag but now she's totally fine until it gets to the point there's snow on the ground.

Gorgug like Fabian can sleep in the most uncomfortable positions if need be. He sleeps better if his party is close by though, preferable touching, otherwise his heart rate spikes in his sleep sometimes and he'll rage. If his friends are close they keep him calm and he gets a better nights sleep, even if he's in a weird position that will leave him sore in the morning.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hi! So I had thoughts about Castor🤭

I don’t know why…but here’s my thoughts. So reader is a member of the band opening for Metallica on (whatever tour) and is really close to James. Not in a weird way or anything, but James and reader get along really well. Castor’s always had a thing for the reader and James knew that so he decided to introduce Catsor to reader and they hit it off really well.

A/n: I don’t write enough Castor for an account that was made to make more Castor

Warnings: none just fluff

Metallica was going on tour and James had found the perfect opening band.

He’d heard Castor listening to them and figured since he was taking him on tour why not bring a band he knew his son liked?

While planning everything you went to James for help since your band didn’t have an official manager or someone to deal with booking and finances. You were raw dogging it and it was astonishingly hard so after spending a week pumping yourself up you finally brought yourself to contact James.

The day before you went out he invited you and your band over so you could all catch the flight together, he knew you’d been worried about someone getting left behind and this definitely helped calm your nerves about the whole ordeal.

You and your band were nothing less than ecstatic about this trip. Sure, you’d been on tours but small ones where you never left your country, now, suddenly, you were performing for thousands of people almost every night in places you’d never even dreamt of visiting, it was all a fever dream but it was really happening.

James had never told you how he’d found your band, you never cared all too much because you were worrying about flights, hotel rooms, everything like that.

You were on an overnight flight from Vancouver, Canada to Frankfurt, Germany. It was almost a ten hour flight and you were ready to, hopefully, sleep most of the way.

Of course, right as you sit down there’s not an ounce of melatonin your brain tried to produce and you were just stuck there. James was beside you, he purposefully booked your seat near each other but there were few flights where you were right next to each other. It was just another way for him to help you with your worries, also because the both of you had created a bond while planning and were genuinely having fun together.

Occasionally on the flight Castor would come by to ask his dad something or just to talk, his gaze always flickering to you. You played it off as nothing but it brought some questions to mind.

“James,” you started once Castor left, “how’d you find our band?” A bright smile came to his face, he wasn’t just expecting this question he was hoping you’d ask about it.

“I heard Castor listening to you guys.” He said simply enough. You gave a small nod. “He really likes you guys, you know? Always talking about your music, outfits, he really likes your outfits.” You could feel your cheeks heating up at that.

Your band wasn’t all glam but you definitely took inspiration from the whole thing, you often wore some sort of leather bottoms, usually pants or a tight skirt that hugged your curves. Your shirt normally consisted of a band shirt, however being on stage had you sweating so you’d eventually have to take it off and reveal whatever you had on underneath.

“I never would’ve guessed he liked us.” You mumbled, trying to hide your sudden shyness. “He’s always quiet and tries to stay away from us.” You heard James chuckled, he knew what he was doing. Dickhead.

Your next show was in London, one of the bigger shows. You were backstage and completely exhausted. It was a flight to bus to hotel to bus to flight to flight to stage and you’d barely slept in the last twenty-something hours.

There was a small room backstage with food and drinks and such. You were stuffing your face full or whatever to keep you going.

You made the mistake of sitting down, someone was beside you but you couldn’t care less who it was. Your eyes closed and you were out.

“Hey,” you heard a voice in your ear, “you’re on in, like, ten minutes.” Slowly, you blinked your eyes open and scanned around, trying to figure out where you were.

You were still in the food room, still on the couch. After you fell asleep you must’ve leaned against the person next to you. You looked over and saw you were fully cuddled up to Castor, a small wet spot on his sleeve from drool. You quickly wiped your mouth and moved away from him. “Sorry, I’m just really, really tired, I didn’t mean to.” You blurted, the words slurring together in your still sleep state.

Castor just stared at you until you stopped talking. “You can sleep on me.” He said. Your head was in your hands and you were rubbing your eyes.

You peaked up at him. “Yeah?” He nodded and you sat up again, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I mean, you still have a show to do.” You groaned loudly and he laughed as you got up and stumbled away.

On the bus ride after the show to the hotel you could barely keep your eyes open. Honestly you were pretty sure you blacked out on stage at a few points.

Castor came over to you and hesitantly sat down beside you. “Tired?” He asked. You nodded as you moved to cuddle up to him again. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

You woke up a few times but didn’t stay awake for long. You saw James' long ass legs standing in front of you on the bus, you saw the entrance of the hotel while you were being carried to your room.

The next morning you woke up with your head on Castor’s chest, his arms wrapped loosely around you.

You whined softly and rubbed your eyes. “What time is it..?” Castor brushed some hair out of your face.

“Ten.” He responded, his voice raspy from sleep. It was light outside so you assumed he meant in the morning, meaning you didn’t have to move for a few hours yet. So, you closed your eyes and nuzzled into him, quickly falling back asleep.

You didn’t realize the mistake you’d made until later that evening at another show.

You had to wear these passes so people knew you were in a band and were supposed to be backstage. These passes always had a picture of you so if anyone ever tried to steal it they wouldn’t get very far.

Your bandmate handed you your new pass since you’d been told it was left in another hotel, but you had it the night before and usually kept it in the same spot on the bus. You took the pass and saw the picture of you barely awake and cuddling with a fully asleep Castor.

“Like your new pass?” James gleamed as he came up to you before the show. Castor came by presenting a nearly matching photo of the both of you curled up in bed together.

[i-cant-sing]

Just thinking about domestic vibes for different fandoms/AUs. So, let's begin with Todoroki Clan:

I'm thinking about yandere parents Enji and Rei, and their teen reader (who they definitely kidnapped as a baby). It's summer break, which means Rei won't have the urge to burn down your school so that you stay at home. No, now she has you all to herself! And despite Rei being Suffocating and smothering, reader does love her mom. Rei is just so soft and kind and sweet, it doesn't sit right with reader to break her heart by saying "no, mom. I just wanna be alone than watch you cook." At least Rei let's you be her little helper, taste the frosting for her, will you?

And summer also means that Rei gets to take you for shopping without you bringing up excuses like "sorry mom, I can't go. I need to study for a test." Now she gets to drag you along to as many shops as she wants, you can literally beg her to stop because you're tired but she'll just give you some homemade onigiris and off you go and change into the clothes she chose for you. Luckily for you, there aren't many luxury shops near you, and they take a lot of time to make Rei's custom orders because your mom never buys off the rack. (Yes girl, you dressed in Chanel and Louis Vuitton because daddy Enji's credit cards buy everything)

Summer vacations means time off from school to reward yourself for all of your hardwork. That's why Rei is making you take daily afternoon naps with her. And you can't say no, mostly because Rei has been mixing melatonin in your food so you tire out easy.

Enji won't lie, but he definitely enjoys your time off from school as well. He gets to see you more often, especially after exam season is over. He gets to take you out on a lot of daddy-daughter dates, which you absolutely enjoy because you get to eat a lot of food without your mom reminding you that she can make so-and-so dish at home and better than Michelin starred chef.

But now that you have holidays, instead of Enji just going around the world on missions and bringing you souvenirs, you now get to go with him and Rei to anywhere you want! Rei is happy because she gets to dress you up in more clothes and do your hair and APPLY SUNSCREEN ON YOU (DO NOT TAKE THIS AWAY FROM HER). Loads and loads of pictures are taken and memories are made, and it's good that Enji's there to hold Rei back from doing normal teenager stuff that she deemed "too dangerous" for you.

Also, Enji and Rei feeding reader together, no matter how old you are. Rei makes the food and serves it to you, Enji keeps on picking out all the good stuff from his plate (sausages, sashimi, eggs, etc) and using his chopsticks to feed it to you🥺🥺🥺

Or or when Rei is doing your hair and you're doing dad Enji's hair, maybe you're just applying a hair mask and massaging it in because Enji works so hard for all of you🥺🥺 of course, he returns the favour by painting your nails (he has gotten better over the years with practice, but it's still funny to see how small the nail polish brush looks in his gigantic hands.

Also thinking about Dad Enji and reader waking up early to make breakfast in bed for Rei for mothers day and Enji's soul leaving his body when a little bit of oil splatters on your hand. And no matter how much you convince hum that you're fine, Enji thinks you're not and now he has you sitting in the corner far away from the stove while he finishes off cooking. And when you two go and surprise Rei, she is so touched and is almost moved to tears until her eyes land on the smallest splatter on your hand (its a surprise she was even able to see it) and now you're wrestled into bed next to her as she ices your hand while scolding Enji for risking your life because "You're the adult Enji. You should know better!" And poor dad Enji is just nodding along🥺🥺🥺🥺