#and i share a lot of ff's

[thelikesoffinn]

Oh my god oh my god you're the one which wrote that Billy Hargrove thing too about how people misunderstand him and I totally missed it! How could I? I even shared it!

Petal, how dare you rat me out? It was supposed to be a secret between you and me!

Haha, no, you're absolutely right. That was me, too. It's hardly anything worth of note, though, because that was really just a rant and nothing more. And, on top of that, that one was quite a while ago. I think it was my first post that wasn't a reblog???

So I'm not surprised people missed it! I hardly remember that thing myself and other people, probably even less so!

[scrollonso]

Sharing

A Strollonso AU where the daughter of a Canadian billionare and her friend are hired by Renault to bring attention to the teams 2nd driver. What'll happen when the girls gain the attention of more than just the media? (4k words, whore fernando, emotional lance) [@roostersrocket] {this was supposed to be a oneshot but... pt2 soon}

Lance sat in the back of the car her father sent, Esteban digging through her bag to find her concealer as their chauffeur drove at a steady pace.

"Putain, where is it?" Esteban muttered, running a hand through her hair as the other dug through the sky blue bag on the floor of the backseat

"What's wrong, Estie?" Lance asked, glancing at her friend as she curled her eyelashes

"Do you have concealer? I think I left mine at the hotel"

"Yeah" She hummed, Lance handing the girl her own makeup bag "It should be your colour"

"Thank you, Lance, I'd be dead without you" Esteban said, taking out what she needed before putting the bag back next to Lance's pale thigh

After what felt like ages they arrived at the Imola Circuit, Lance stepping out to fix her clothes, knowing the odd material was messed up after the long car ride.

She had on a white tube top with the teams logo plastered right over her tits, a halter-top like jacket on over it. She propped one leg up on the side of the car as she unrolled her shorts, tucking the back of them back under the belt with a Renault branded buckle on it

"Lance, does my ass look okay?" Esteban called from the other side of the car, the Canadian looking up from her legs to see Esteban turned around at the other side of the vehicle, the yellow "2" on the left pocket of her shorts making it impossible to notice if her ass looked bad.

"Your ass always looks great" Lance confirmed, putting her leg down and closing the car door as she stepped forward to thank the driver before her and Esteban made their way onto the paddock.

They quickly found their way to the Renault garage, not able to ignore the cameras on them as soon as they got there, the duo only worried about how their faces would look in these pictures

"What if I have a double chin?" Lance asked, hand smoothing the skin under her jaw as she spoke

"Lance, the only double you have are double D's, calm down" Esteban scoffed, smiling at her comment

"Stop, I can't kiss you in front of all these people" Lance smiled back, nudging the girls shoulder as they made their way to the Italian side of the garage.

The two mainly sat around, speaking politely to all the slightly offputting men that would walk up and hit on them, the friends having no interest in anything besides the expierence from the job so far.

They'd probably spoken to half the engineers working for Renault before a driver approached them, realizing who it was as soon as he spoke

"You two must be Esteban and Lance, It is a pleasure to have you both here" Giancarlo spoke, extending a hand to Lance then moving to shake Estebans next

"Thank you, We absolutely love it so far." Lance smiled politely, legs crossing as she gazed up at the Italian

"There won't be much going on today but it will get more exciting as the week progresses, I look forward to having you two cheering me on" He smiled back, nodding at the girls before returning to his engineers side, back to work

"God, he's hot" Esteban gushed instantly, whispering in the Canadians ear

"Shut up" Lance laughed, hitting the girls shoulder as she shook her head, disapproving of the comment

"Oh, come on!" Esteban whined "Tell me he isn't. You like older guys, he's like 15 years older than you."

"And so not my type."

"You're such a liar, but fine, more for me then" Esteban hummed, rolling her eyes at the younger girl

Lance and Esteban began to wander around the paddock once the Renault drivers started speaking to the media, being told that it would cause more people to begin speaking about the driver with the number 6 plastered on his car

"My legs hurt" Lance complained, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's waist, pulling her closer as she stumbled on her heels

"Merde" She cursed under her breath, having been startled by the sudden weight on her "Take off your heels then, it'll probably look better if we're shorter than Giancarlo anyway"

Lance nodded, looking at the concrete her heels were resting on before unclasping them and sliding her feet out, glad the pavement wasnt overheated by the sun yet

"God, I should've worn flats" She mumbled, balancing on one foot as she rubbed the sole of her foot

"Stop complaining, it's only been two hours" Esteban laughed at the now shorter girl, picking up her shoes and pulling her along, not noticing the Spaniard who's eyes were stuck on the Canadian with long, bleched blonde hair.

Fernando stopped in his tracks as he saw the two girls not far ahead of him, they were facing away but as the blonde girl spoke her head turned just enough for the World Champion to catch a glimpse of her face, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut he was so in awe with her.

The way her lip jutted out slightly as she complained to the older girl in front of her, the way her clothes fit her perfectly no matter how she positioned her slim yet curvaceous body, the way her hair curled at the ends as it draped over her bare shoulders, everything about her had Fernando completely beguiled.

As Giancarlo finished with his interviews the girls were quick to rush to his side, striking up a conversation while still close enough to the journalists for them to notice the closeness between the trio

"Hello, girls, figured you had returned home already" The older man commented, arms snaking around the young girls' waists as they walked back to the yellow and blue garage

"We couldn't leave without getting to know you more" Esteban hummed, having to look down slightly in order to meet the mans eyes

"Only if I can get to know you as well" He responded, accent thick as he winked at the French woman, Lance rolling her eyes as she third wheeled

As the trio walked into the Italian side of the garage, Lance couldn't help but notice the eyes from the Spanish side. She looked up for a second, lips curving up as she saw the older man look away quickly as if he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to

"So, what is it you ladies want to learn?" Giancarlo spoke, taking a seat at a small table in the corner as Esteban did the same, Lance just wandering the one side, now curious of the other.

"What are you willing to show me?" Esteban hummed, cocking her head to the side as she gazed at the Italian, completely oblivious to her friend slipping away, putting her shoes back on as she walked.

Lance peeked over to Fernandos side, noticing it was significantly emptier than Giancarlos, hesitating to actually step foot on the other side.

She almost fell over when she heard a voice close to her, grabbing tightly on to the closest thing to her for stability

"Woah" A thick accent spoke, hands grabbing harshly onto her waist "Are you okay?"

Her eyes widened, a startled look on her face as she gazed down at the Spaniard, realizing she'd tripped and fell into the arms of Giancarlos teammate

"Yeah, I'm sorry" She laughed, stepping back and fixing her top, unable to forget how his fingers lingered on her skin as she pulled back

"Don't be sorry, princesa." He responded, a part of him liking having to look up to see the girl "You're welcome on the better side of the garage any time"

"Are you trying to hit on me, Alonso?" Lance smiled, cocking her head to the side as she saw the Spaniards face flush

"Quiza, is it working?" The Spaniard laughed quietly, leaning against the wall beside him as he gazed at the Canadian, hoping he wasn't making the girl uncomfortable

"You'll have to try a little harder, Alonso" She shook her head, looking away from the Spaniard to scan his side of the garage

"Fernando"

"Hm?" She hummed, eyes falling back on the man in blue

"Call me Fernando. Alonso's too formal, no?"

"Okay, Fernando" She nodded, unable to stop herself from smiling "I'm Lance. It's nice to meet you"

"The pleasure is all mine"

Lance spent the rest of the evening on the Spaniards side, he was funny. She was glad to get along with someone besides the man Esteban was clearly into.

"You have to choose one card, now" He smiled, holding a deck of Spanish cards in his hands, fingers decorated with silver rings.

"Okay" She laughed, eyebrows raising as he quickly flipped through the deck

"Oiii, you are too slow" He teased, shrugging as his eyes stayed glued to the woman

"Oh, come on!" Lance groaned, hitting his arm lightly "Go again, slower."

"Yes ma'am" He nodded, flipping through the deck again as he waited for Lance to tell him to stop

"There" She said, and he stopped, moving the deck so she would see her card.

"You know it?"

"Yeah" Lance smiled, leaning forward on the table as she watched the older man link the cards together, showing that he wasn't taking anything out

"Okay, we have the cards," He hummed, laying the deck down now that it was stuck together "You know which one you choose?"

"Mhm"

"Then, we take this off." Fernando glanced at the girl before unlinking the chain and grabbing the cards, setting them in seperate pile one by one "When you see your card you tell me stop."

He got through half the deck and Lance had yet to say anything so he spoke again

"You have to tell me stop, if you no tell me stop-" He said, almost scolding the girl

"I will! I haven't seen it yet" She defended, jutting out her bottom lip as she moved her head closer to the cards

"We cannot play if you no tell me stop."

"I think it might've disappeared! Where's it gone?" Lance questioned, laughing as he reached the end of the deck

"I dunno! You were in charge." He shook his head, lifting up the unlinked chain to show the girl

"Where have you put it?" Her eyebrows furrowed, smiling slightly as she glanced at Fernando, smile widening as he began to laugh.

"I dunno!" He spoke through laughs, beginning to pat himself down

"I don't trust you" Lance's eyes narrowed, taking over and patting the Spaniard down, from his neck to his waist trying to figure out where the small piece of paper had went

They were close, Fernando could feel the girls breath on him, he'd never admit it but it made him quite nervous. She looked even prettier up close.

"C'mon, Fer!" She whined, hitting his chest "Tell me your secrets

"Look in my hat, princesa." Fernando looked up, eyeing the blue material on his head.

She was quick to take it off, shocked to see her card laying in his hat

"How did you-"

"Ah, ah, ah." He shook his finger, "Is a secret."

"Lance" Esteban called from Giancarlos side of the garage, the Canadian girl getting up fron her seat straight away

"Lancito" Fernando said, reaching out and grabbing the girls arm, worried she'd walk away if he didn't "Can I have your number?"

"Of course, Fer" She nodded, quickly typing her number into the mans phone before disappearing back to the side she was supposed to be on.

As soon as they got in the car Lance started gushing about the man she'd spoke to, overanalyzing everything that'd happened.

"No, you don't understand. He called me princess. TWICE. And admitted that he was flirting with me." She tried to explain, Esteban sitting with a skeptical look on her face

"He's a world champion, you're gonna get played." Esteban tried to explain, Giancarlo having briefly mentioned his teammates and how bad he treated the girls he brought around.

"I don't care, he's sexy." Lance whined, grabbing her friends shoulders and shaking her "I can fix him!"

Lance put on the same outfit as yesterday but with a skirt instead, not wanting to look the exact same.

The Spanish man had yet to text her and it made her heart ache for whatever reason, she craved his attention.

As Lance and Esteban reached the paddock they were greeted by the Renault boys straight away. Giancarlo coming to wrap his arms around the girls as Fernando walked with another woman by his side, the polar opposite of Lance.

She had dark brown hair, green eyes, tan skin, she was in flats and jeans and a simple tank top. Is that what Fernando likes? Lance could be that.

He made sure not to stare, instead getting closer to the Italian man at her side as Esteban struck up a conversation, she always knew what to say.

They'd just gotten done with qualifying, Giancarlo p11 and Fernando p5 but the two girls still managed to congratulate the older of the two as if he'd gotten pole.

Lance didn't spare Fernando a glance, no matter how much she wanted to, she wasn't easy.

"You did good out there!" Esteban praised, body pressed against Giancarlo as his hand rested on Lance's hip

"I'm starting to think you girls don't understand how this sport works" He laughed, thumb brushing over the exposed skin on the Canadian's side

"Well, You're right." Lance laughed, trying to pretend she wanted the mans touch how she wanted his teammates "But, at least you aren't last!"

Lance decided she'd head to the car first, not interested in how her friend was eyefucking the man they worked for. She slipped her phone into her pocket, ignoring how it buzzed. She just wanted to take off her makeup and fall asleep in the back seat

"Lancito" A familiar voice called. Great. She'd ignored him all day and now he wanted to talk?

She turned back, unsurprisingly losing every ounce of anger in her body as she saw the look on his face

"My side of the garage missed you today." He hummed, stopping once they were just centimeters apart. The look on his face was different than it had been the day before, no longer soft and playful. He looked bothered.

"Oh, really? Didn't think you'd notice my absence."

"How could I not?" He laughed, hand finding its way to her hip, the same spot Giancarlo had touched earlier. "Hard to not notice someone like you."

"Mm" She just hummed, licking her lips as she looked at Fernando, unable to stop her gaze from falling on the mans own lips.

Without saying a word he pulled her closer, lips connecting roughly, grip on her hip tightening as he pressed their bodies together.

A shakey breath left Lance's lips, her fingers tangling themselves in the shorter mans hair as she kept him close. If he was the last man she was to ever kiss, she wouldn't complain.

His leg came up slightly, pressing against her core as he pressed her back to the wall behind them. Lance was never the doing-stuff-in-public type but if it was from Fernando she'd take whatever she could get.

Her mind clouded as she began to thoughtlessly rut against the mans leg, feeling the smirk forming on his face as her skirt hiked up. She should be embarrassed, really, she met this man, who is almost a decade older than her, yesterday and now she was whimpering into his mouth in a hidden area of the paddock. Maybe she was easy but she's also just a teenage girl, teenage girls have needs too and if this is how she'll meet them she doesn't see anything wrong with that.

Not long after they started it stopped, Fernando hearing his teammate calling his name. He pulled away from the girl, not bothering to even spare her a glance before he disappeared again. Leaving her feeling hot, heavy, and alone.

Lance thought about Fernando all night, thought about the kiss, his touch, the girl from earlier.

She hardly spoke on the ride back to the hotel, Esteban brushing it off as her being tired but even the next morning she was quiet

"What happened, Lance?" She finally asked, sick of her friends silence, it was race day they should be excited.

"He kissed me" Lance muttered, looking over to Esteban as they were both getting dressed

"Who?"

"Fernando"

"FERNANDO ALONSO KISSED YOU AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?" She said loudly, dropping her shirt and going over to Lance, forcing her to sit down "Now you have to tell me everything"

"Well, I left early"

"I remember" She nodded, eyes glued to Lance

"He followed me, called me Lancito and said his side of the garage missed me. He literally had a girl by him all day hes such a fucking prick." She complained, covering her face with her hands

"But then you kissed?"

"He just got so close to me and I looked at his lips and suddenly he kissed me and pushed me against a wall and did that thing guys do with their knee-"

"OH?" Estebans eyes widened, standing up from Lance's bed "Lance, he wants you so bad."

"Yeah, wants my body so bad."

"Oh, come on. I gave Giancarlo a blowjob yesterday, that's all it is. That's all they want." Esteban shrugged, she'd never cared about the romantic part of things, always just what she could gain from the rich men she encountered. Lance had prayed to wake up like her, not caring, it never worked.

She tried harder today, trying to make herself look like the girl from yesterday. She wore low rise jeans with a soft design on the pockets, lighter makeup, and then a cropped renault shirt with Giancarlos name stitched on the back.

She didn't want to be just a body to the Spaniard, she wanted to be so much more. She wasn't just a body. She was a girl. A woman. She was so full of love and so desperate to recieve the same love she gave and she wanted that from Fernando. For whatever reason.

Lance got out of the car, walking and talking with Esteban as they made their way to the garage, now used to the sounds of clicking cameras and the flash of their pictures being taken.

Esteban was greeted by Giancarlo first, Lance's eyes meeting Fernandos as he walked next to a different girl. Tall, slim, blue eyes, ginger. What did he want. Why did none of his girls look the same. Why were none of them her.

Lance was in a funk practically the whole day, following Esteban around like a lost dog while Fernando and Giancarlo raced.

"I can't believe him." Esteban said randomly, Lance looking at her confused. "He kissed you yesterday and now he's with another girl?"

"I guess world champions just do that" Lance shrugged, trying not to think about it even though Fernando was all the commentators were talking about.

"Not all world champions, he's just a whore."

"I could fix him" She added, laughing it off as a joke but really, she hoped she could.

Giancarlo finished 8th, getting a point for the team. Fernando got 2nd so by the time the second driver returned most of them were at the podium waiting for Fernando to celebrate.

"You did good, Carlo" Esteban hummed, sitting on a counter on the wall of the garage as the Italian took off his helmet and balaclava

"Yeah, you're great." Lance added, nodding as she wished to be celebrating with Fernando.

The podium celebration came to an end, the Spaniard coming back to the garage and going straight to Lance, whispering in her ear before disappearing to shower.

Come to my hotel with me.

Who does he think he is?

Does he think he can just have any girl he wants?

What a dick.

Lance was definitely going.

She told Esteban she'd be staying behind to get to know people and her friend didn't prod, just smiling and nodding before taking herself back to their hotel while her friend snuck off to a drivers.

She found herself in the passenger seat of Fernandos car, his hand tracing shapes on the denim covering her thigh as he drove. She was nervous, not because she knew she wasn't the only girl he'd planned on fucking recently but because she hadn't fucked anyone recently.

The last time she'd gotten any action was with Max Verstappen before an f2 race in a cramped drivers roon where he kept her mouth covered the whole time. He wasn't good.

Surprisingly, her door was opened for her. Fernando holding his hand out to lead the girl in the lobby, into the elevator, and to his room.

He waited for the door to be closed before he kissed Lance again, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist with ease.

He moved towards the bed as if he didn't have over 100 pounds of extra wait on him, as if Lance was light as a feather.

It made her smile, hands on either side of Fernandos face as she deepened their kiss, bottom lip jutting out in disappointment once he pulled back, laughing under his breath.

"Come on, have to take these off" He spoke quietly, kneeling on the ground in front of Lance who was sprawled out on the bed, taking off the heels she'd been wearing all day.

Lance sat up, watching as Fernando unbuckled one and slid it off, placing it next to him before doing the same to the other. She was eager for him to get up but he stayed put, peppering her ankles and calves with kisses as he slowly made his way back up, Lance giggling at the feeling of his stubble against her skin.

Eventually, Fernandos lips were back on Lance's, one hand on the nape of her neck while the other worked at undoing her belt, eager to have her fully exposed under him.

One thing Fernando did differently off track was he took his time. Lance hated it. She needed him.

She decided she'd have to do it herself if she wanted anything to happen before she stopped feeling it.

Lance pulled away from him, quick to take off her own belt and pants until all she had was the shirt with Giancarlo's number and name all over it.

"I do not like sharing, Lancito" He muttered, finger brushing over the embroidered "2" on her chest

"I'm all yours." She responded, even though she knew he wasn't all hers.

Fernando scoffed, not believing just how easy the girl was. He undid the first few buttons before sliding off her shirt, adoring the sight of her in nothing but her underwear. A matching black set. As if she knew what was going to happen.

"Qué guapa eres" How pretty. Lance wasn't fluent in Spanish but she'd been hit on by enough Spanish men to know what he was saying.

It was embarrassing, how flustered she got from the most basic compliment.

She could barely remember what happened after that, waking up sore and with dried cum practically covering her skin. Disgusting. Seems like no aftercare had taken place. She wasn't surprised.

Even if she didn't expect aftercare she expected to at least wake up with him still in the room. Obviously, her expectations were too high because she woke up alone. All he left her was a text. Three fucking letters.

"gtg"

Dick.

[kondietorei]

alas the classic outfit swap

bonus doodle underneath ^^

drew this after realizing i only drew one sea salt ice cream orz

[monstermoviedean]

at the end of my fucking rope with "conversations" about k12 chronic absenteeism.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I just woke up so I’m groggy and somewhat brain dead, but I just realized your pickle post sounds like a 4chan thing. And I’m so sorry

tangentially related, your text posts and your comics do not have anything approaching the same vibe in my brain, which is NOT a complaint or criticism, honestly I love that for you, but it did make it hard to remember who chewed pickle cud.

I exist on a spectrum of extremely wholesome love stories to absolutely deranged pickle freak and it's okay that it's hard to hold those two in your mind at the same time.

But I feel like it's also a good object lesson that people are multifaceted and the batshit stories and experiences I write about are just as much a part of me as the soft squishy lovey romantic stuff.

[teafiend]

[dawnstarranger]

Listen everyone has their own metric for what good writing is and isn’t but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t get me down a little to see one of my faves dragged through the mud by both haters and fans alike on a pretty much weekly basis

[addicted-to-nothing]

popping in from my existential crisis to say that i really love @the-lonelybarricade and @separatist-apologist and i hope both their days go wonderful

I will now crawl back into my existential crisis and reread Holy Ground while ignoring my work

[viiisenyas]

WIP Whenever

I finally have edited enough of a section from my little AU and I am so stoked to share it 💗

Brief Summary/Context: Elaena has travelled with her father and brother with Robert Baratheon by sea to meet Ned Stark in Winterfell. During the feast, she meets Jon Snow.

CW: none :)

Tagging: It’s 3 AM, I won’t tag any one haha.

Tagged by: @oxygenforthewicked my beloved 💗

A wave of vertigo passed through Elaena as the mixed sounds and smells in the Great Hall became too much for her to bear. Her gown suddenly became too tight, and she huffed as sweat began to bead upon her brow.

She looked at Monterys again, pouting ever so slightly before she tugged gently on his sleeve with a pleading expression. She wanted to leave, but for the second time, her brother dismissed her, wordlessly, with a wave of his hand as he continued his conversation with Lord Poole.

Elaena pressed her lips together, drawing in a breath before she mustered the courage to leave alone, and headed straight for the courtyard, ignoring the gazes from the Northmen as she passed them.

She pushed open the heavy wooden doors, and the cold air was refreshing. Elaena let out the breath she was holding, relieved as the nausea slowly dissipated, and the doors to the Great Hall clattered shut behind her.

The courtyard was desolate, save for the stable master, and a dark-haired boy hacking violently at a training dummy. He spared a glance at her over his shoulder, and her cheeks warmed when she recognised him from earlier that day.

She never had the chance to ask his name, but as the thought pressed into her mind, the boy turned back to resume his task, and Elaena frowned.

Of course… What did I expect? she thought.

After taking a long moment to regain her bearings, Elaena shivered as the chilly air clung to her skin. But she had no intention of returning to the Great Hall so soon, and she began to walk towards the brazier across the courtyard.

The warmth of the flames caressed her face, and she sighed softly as she closed her eyes, and listened to the stillness of the night. It would have been perfectly peaceful if she couldn’t hear the boy’s steel or the distant music overpowered by the sound of celebration.

Elaena braced her hands against the stone as the sound of steel faded in the background, and in the flames of the brazier, the face of the dark-haired boy she’d seen in the courtyard earlier that morning appeared, dressed in the black armour of the Night’s Watch.

A massive wall of ice was distant behind him. Snow cascaded around him as he rode away from it on horseback, and the image changed. A banner bearing the sigil of House Stark drifted in the wind, burning, before a dark shadow cast over it.

The boy appeared in the flames again, and a look of worry painted his features when he looked back at the ice before he proceeded his path forward.

Elaena leaned closer to examine the fire more carefully, and the images began to change once more. Her eyes widened as she saw the gruesome sight of a white wolf viciously attacking a lion cub, and its crimson gaze drifted towards her. Blood-stained teeth were bared as it began to draw closer and the vision faded to a crown of blades.

She recoiled in shock, gasping, before the sound of hoofbeats captured her attention, and she turned to see a man armoured in black galloping into the courtyard.

“Is he dead yet?” he called with an air of humour in his tone, and she followed his gaze to the boy with the sword across the courtyard. The stable master moved past her to collect the stallion as the man dismounted his horse.

“Sorry, milady,” he said, politely.

“Uncle Benjen!” The boy exclaimed, and she watched the amicable exchange for a moment before looking down at her hands.

“You got bigger, I see,” Benjen laughed as he hugged his nephew.

“What are you doing here?”

“I rode all day. Didn’t want to leave you alone with the Lannisters.”

Kindred spirits, she thought, and a quiet laugh escaped her.

Elaena traced over the lines of her palms, absently, before she gazed back into the flames as she continued to eavesdrop on their conversation, and the same images of the boy appeared again.

“…Well, you’re always welcome on the Wall. No bastard was ever refused a seat there.”

“So take me with you when you go back.” An air of excitement laced the young man’s tone.

“Jon,” Benjen huffed in disapproval.

“Father will let me if you ask him,” he countered, “I know he will.”

“The Wall isn’t going anywhere…”

“I’m ready,” the boy pressed. “I’m ready to swear your oath.”

The Wall, she thought, and tilted her head with a furrowed brow as she watched him riding into the night again through the flames.

Elaena looked up at the two in realisation and frowned.

“He’ll have to turn his cloak,” she sighed, in both disappointment and relief when she saw nothing else.

Elaena crossed the courtyard towards the larder, and the familiar voice of Tyrion Lannister captured her attention.

“My lady,” he smiled, swaying, before he brought a skin of wine to his lips and Elaena lowered her hands.

“Oh, hello, Lord Tyrion,” she replied as she met glazed blue eyes before looking back down.

Elaena found herself stumbling into his presence by chance more often than not since his arrival in King’s Landing just three months past, but he was the only Lannister she felt remotely comfortable speaking to.

“I must say, I’m surprised you’ve chosen the company of a man of the Night’s Watch, and the bastard of Winterfell. Tell me, are the festivities so dull?”

Bastard of Winterfell? she thought. Then that must mean… oh.

Elaena shook her head and clasped her hands in front of her. “On the contrary, it’s the opposite, my lord. But I prefer the stillness outside, and the cold is rather refreshing. And I needed some air,” she spared a glance over her shoulder, gazing at the red flames dancing, and Tyrion hummed in understanding.

“It is a bit overwhelming isn’t it?” He smiled again as he took another sip of wine. “Being in the presence of the strangers who are all as grim as their overlord.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she replied, quietly.

Tyrion didn’t seem to hear her, and her mind wandered. The vision of the wolf and the lion cub flashed again. Then she remembered her dream.

Elaena’s expression fell and she clenched her eyes shut, attempting to forget it.

She hated how violent it was, and for weeks the unpleasant images had plagued her mind at every waking moment.

Seven hells, what did it all mean?

The only two things that had been clear were Jon’s midnight flight, and her journey to Winterfell. Everything else had been a mystery, and it was folly to confide in anyone to make sense of it all.

“I will never father a bastard!” Jon shouted, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Never!”

She was startled by the unexpected change in volume, and her violet gaze snapped towards Benjen and the bastard.

Elaena watched as the older man’s shoulders moved, and he patted Jon’s shoulder before he turned to walk away.

The music grew louder as Benjen opened the door of the Great Hall, and Elaena watched his tall figure disappearing behind the wall before the door clattered shut.

“Your uncle’s in the Night’s Watch?” Tyrion swayed as he stepped forward, wordlessly offering Elaena the wine.

“What are you doing back there?” Jon asked, raising a brow and Elaena looked at Tyrion, owlishly.

It was bad manners to refuse despite not wanting any, and she hesitantly accepted the skin, taking a large sip. The taste was sweet like honey, and she recognised the familiar and pleasant scent of the Dornish vintage as she handed it back to him.

“Preparing for a night with your family,” the dwarf replied, flatly.

Jon moved his gaze to Elaena, and she took a step back, clutching her arm.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the feast?” he tilted his head.

“Erm…” she flushed, and looked away as her words escaped her.

“Lady Velaryon is simply enjoying the peaceful night,” Tyrion leaned against a post, taking another swig. “Apparently, it’s too hot and too noisy in your Great Hall for her liking… one of the many things we both can agree on.” The dwarf offered another smile as he passed the skin back to Elaena.

“You’re Rhaegar Targaryen’s niece?” Jon tilted his head to the opposite side with curiosity.

She pressed her lips together as a coldness passed through her, and she looked away, insulted.

Cousin would be more accurate, she thought, and her brow wrinkled with contempt. But it was far worse than being a niece by marriage, and she kept the blood relation to herself. She loathed the tie she had to him, nonetheless.

King Robert was very kind in reminding Elaena and her brother of what Rhaegar had done on many occasions after indulging in too much wine during the day, and her uncles held the same scorn.

It was the same tired story, over again from both parties. Rhaegar betrayed Elia. Rhaegar abducted and defiled Lyanna Stark. And somehow she ended up becoming the subject of Robert’s verbal wrath when rumours resurfaced about her mother being Elia rather than Belandra, and she wasn’t willing to relive the torment.

Dragon spawn, was what Prince Joffrey told her Robert called her when he was feeling particularly cruel. ‘It’s a shame my father didn’t let my grandfather finish you off.’

If only the idiot knew who his great-grandmother was.

Elaena indulged herself in another large sip to suppress the intrusive thoughts as Jon’s gaze settled on her, and her inhibitions numbed.

“And you’re Lord Stark’s bastard.” Her words came bitterly and without thought.

Jon gave her a hurt expression, and turned on his heel, walking away with long strides before she realised how cruel she must’ve sounded.

Her cheeks burned with shame when she thought of what Ellaria and Oberyn might’ve said if they were there. What her cousins might’ve said. Using his status against him to balm her own wounded pride was beneath her, and the girl looked down.

“I’m sorry,” Elaena anxiously drew a breath as she began to fidget with her braid. “That was… unworthy of me.”

Jon looked back, and audibly sighed.

“You are the bastard, though,” Tyrion interjected with an amused tone.

“Lord Eddard Stark is my father,” Jon gritted his teeth as he turned around, placing his hands on his hips.

“And Lady Stark is not your mother,” the dwarf shrugged. “Making you… the bastard.”

Tyrion stepped closer towards Jon. “Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not.” The dwarf turned to look at Elaena, and he offered a sympathetic look before she realised that he was addressing them both. “Wear it like armour, and it can never be used to hurt you.”

She looked down, and took another long sip of the wine.

“What the hell do you know about being a bastard?” Jon retorted as Tyrion began to walk back towards Elaena.

“All dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You can keep the wine, my lady. I think you’ll need it more than I will before the night is over.”

“My lord,” she nodded, and Tyrion moved towards the Great Hall, leaving the two of them alone.

Jon picked up his sword, and flourished it. He let out a frustrated huff before he swiftly and skilfully struck the training dummy a few times, and he raked his fingers through his hair before turning back around.

His eyes widened as if he was surprised that she was still standing there.

“Is there something you need, Lady Elaena?” He emitted an agitated sigh.

Elaena pressed her lips together, casting her gaze downward.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to bother you,” Elaena said quietly. “You’re very good,” she offered a sweet smile, attempting to make up for her rude introduction, and Jon averted her gaze. “And… I only wanted to—”

“Why are you still out here?” He interrupted, tone dismissive.

Oh… The blatant rejection of her company made her stomach knot.

She had grown used to the passive aggressive remarks in the capital; insults veiled with honeyed words that were difficult for her to decipher until the last moment. But the bold and direct way of the Northerners had completely thrown her off, and somehow, it hurt more.

Elaena wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer, but the wine overtook her senses.

“I-I’m not much use for conversations, I’m afraid. Everyone’s been glaring at me and I don’t think your brother likes me very much,” her voice gradually lowered in volume, and Elaena anxiously squeezed the skin of wine as she looked down.

“I can’t imagine why,” Jon said, flatly.

Elaena frowned when she heard the sarcasm in his tone and a pause settled in the air, uncomfortably, before she turned to leave. She clutched the half-empty skin of wine tighter, debating on whether she should drown her sorrows right then.

Her tears stained her cheeks, and she quickly brushed them away attempting to maintain what remained of her dignity as she sniffled softly.

“Wait,” he called. “I’m sorry, It’s just…” Jon huffed. “It’s been a long day, my lady.”

Elaena turned around, blinking slowly as she raised her eyes to the boy. She acknowledged his apology, but did not extend her forgiveness. Instead, she simply nodded and drew a breath.

“Did you want to join us for the feast?” she asked.

Jon sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Lady Stark thinks it might insult the royal family to seat a bastard in their midst. Which is why I’m out here in the first place.”

“It can’t be any more insulting than King Robert’s foolish attempts in leaving a few bastards in the North,” she said, quietly and without thought.

His eyes widened and he let out a dry chuckle before she realised what just came out of her mouth. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and Elaena sighed heavily, placing her palm against the side of her face.

Gods, damn this wine… I shouldn’t have said that.

Jon sheathed his sword, and Elaena wordlessly offered the wine to him. He looked at her curiously before he met her halfway, and accepted the sweet drink.

As his fingers brushed against hers, she cringed inwardly when the violent vision of the wolves flashed in her mind once more and she turned her head, clenching her eyes shut.

“Is something the matter?” He asked as he brought the wine to his lips.

“I’m fine,” she nodded and huffed softly, taking a step back. “I-I don’t… I don’t think Lady Stark will care much if you sit among the benches with the small folk,” Elaena pointed out. “I could sit with you, if you like.”

The boy looked at her incredulously as he finished off the remainder of the flask, and she began to reconsider the offer. But before the doubtful and intrusive thoughts could return, Jon offered a tight smile and nodded.

“All right.”

[sakurarisen]

So an update to this from yesterday - I’ve decided to bring Shayan over here to share Sera’s blog. It’ll be a few days before I get things shuffled around here to slide him in, so consider this blog under construction but otherwise fully functioning for a bit, given I still need to update Shayan’s carrd and get some stuff written up for the other two muses related to them also coming over!

The theme and such of this blog will also be staying Sera-focused, and Shayan and the newbies will be considered as secondary muses as a result. Being as young as they are, it was difficult to keep up a full, single blog for even just Shayan - Not due to a lack of muse, but simply because there’s only so much he can have going on as a child, be in in FF or GI verses, and replying to myself in a thread was... Awkward, to say the least, resulting in me often just making him a guest muse here or Sera on his anyway. This will still stay as Sera’s blog, but at least I’ll be able to keep up with Shayan a little easier by bringing him here. <3

I’m estimating it shouldn’t take more than a week, so please pardon the dust as the muses do the blog shuffle, and I’ll be fully available for things despite it! <3

~Pom

[kadoodles-on-ao3]

Re: My FFXIV Xenoblade crossover

I'm still trying to get the hang of gpose (and I kind of went overboard in my brainstorming for all the things I want to make haha) so it'll still be a while before it's finished, but here's a sneak peek in the meantime ;)

[astrxealis]

my ocs..... i love you

[noonblight]

.

[choicesmc]

honest to goodness? I think Rin genuinely has the worst backstory of all my OCs (<- includes Immigration Court) + i want someone to ask about her :)

[eruukat]

final fantasy tboys save me. ff tboys save me. save me ff tboys. he/theys if you can hear me please

[metalosis-maligna]

spent twenty years wondering what people saw in this bdsm twink and it turns out he has ALL the mental illness