#ash's 4k celebration

[raccoonscity]

Make Me Choose: Chris/Jill or Ada/Leon or Rebecca/Billy? (asked by @hereticstations)

[hollywoodoutbreak]

With 1997's Titanic, James Cameron became the first director in Hollywood history to take a film across the $1 billion threshold at the worldwide box office. Now, that's only his third biggest movie -- both Avatar and its sequel, Avatar: The Way of Water have surpassed it, earning $2.9 billion and $2.3 billion, respectively. Of course, the Avatar series isn't finished yet! There are three more films already in the works, due to be released next year, in 2029, and in 2031, all produced, written, and directed by Cameron. In fact, he's in the full-time Avatar business for now, with no other projects on his calendar. But that's a position he's happy to be in right now, because, as Cameron said he loves the Avatar universe, and he's thrilled to be able to keep making films within it.

Avatar: Fire and Ash is scheduled to open in theaters on December 19, 2025, and the first two Avatar films are currently streaming on Disney+ and available on DVD, Blu-Ray, 4K, and most digital platforms.

[moondirti]

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.

[jamminvroomvroom]

ruined.

LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration

based on this request!

in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?

back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs

i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(

songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas

warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining

3.4k words

“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.

“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.

“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.

“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.

“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.

five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.

“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.

“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.

“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.

“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”

“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.

“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.

“what’s your excuse?”

“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.

“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”

you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.

truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!

lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.

“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.

you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.

“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.

he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.

“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.

“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:

“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.

“yeah. love you too.”

lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.

-

it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.

you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.

how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.

you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.

what’s the harm in helping yourself out?

you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.

you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.

you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.

on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.

but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.

his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.

you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.

he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.

you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.

i just got off to the sound of my best friend.

-

you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.

lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.

“lando-“

“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”

“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.

“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.

when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.

“moving on.”

“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.

“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.

“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.

“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

-

dinner was… well, it was edible.

he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.

“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.

“anytime, honey.” he replies.

you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.

you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-

a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.

the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.

“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.

“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.

“that sounds absolutely perfect.”

“netflix?”

“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.

-

you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.

he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.

when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.

“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.

“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,

“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”

“about what?” you whisper.

“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”

“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.

“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”

his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.

“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.

“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.

he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.

“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”

“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.

and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.

“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.

“perfect.”

his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.

“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”

“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.

“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.

nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.

lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.

“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.

you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.

“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.

he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.

“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.

“good?” he smirks.

“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.

“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.

“so are you.” you whisper.

he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.

you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.

“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.

“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.

“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.

you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.

“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.

“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.

“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.

you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.

“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.

it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.

“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.

he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.

your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.

“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.

“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.

“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.

“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.

“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.

he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.

“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”

he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.

it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.

“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.

“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”

-

i feel so warm inside hehe

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789 @ln4norizz @formulaal

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :)

[lumosatnight]

Lani's Birthday Oneshots: 2024 🧁

As per tradition, today is my birthday and as a gift to you, I present a HP ONESHOT REC LIST to celebrate 🥳! Here are 15 oneshots, under 10k words (mostly), one for each day in June leading up to my birthday. Lots of genres, lots of tropes, ordered by ship (kinda).

🌼 - fluff | 💔 - angst | 🔥 - smut

—

1. The Pirc Defence by @sleepstxtic [Draco/Harry, E, 10k] ♟️❣️ This fic is brilliant!! Masterful, even. Kat does it again with the intriguing plot, the deeply intense relationships, and strongly lovable characters. This is the chess rivals to lovers fic that everyone deserves and needs to read RIGHT NOW.

2. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w [Draco/Ron, established Draco/Harry, M, 5k] 🔥🌃 This fic is delicious. Searing hot anticipation. That feeling right before the climax, the first spark of the match before the fire is fully lit. Exquisite. I just want to bask in it.

3. Postcards Of A Life Well Lived by @ghaniblue [Luna/Draco/Harry, M, 950] 🌼🦋 Georgeous slice of life. I love the dynamic between the three, weaving in and out of each others' lives. Luna is a gem.

4. This Tree Grows from Ash and Dust by @wellhalesbells [Dudley/Draco, M, 9k] 💔♣️ This fic is rife with tension. The Drudley dynamic sucks you right in and with unrequited Drarry in the background! I cannot get enough.

5. Different by @camelliacats [Nigel/Colin, T, 10k] 🌼💔 Canon-compliant how Nigel falls in love with his best friend's brother. Teen romance, first loves, and all the wonderful complicated feelings that come along with it.

6. self-made by @onewhodiedyoung [Cho/Ginny, T, 3k] 💔🦢 Beautiful post-war story. Ginny grappling with her identity and who she is after everything. Cho knowing and supporting and growing.

7. My Kink Is Karma by @chaos-bear [Lavender/Gilderoy, E, 3k] 🔥🤣 What a pairing!! Hilarious fic with some hot and then awkward smut. But absolutely perfect.

8. thorns, in amber by @thisisdecemberista [Sirius/Lily, established James/Lily, E, 5k] 💔🔥 God, this fic. The infidelity angst mixed with war mixed with their all-consuming love for James. A whirlwind of emotions that had me in a death grip. So so good.

9. Bouquet by sky_watcher_rose [Minerva/Poppy, T, 3k] 🌼💐 So sweet, so lovely! A professors getting together story that melts my heart. I always knew Minerva was a sweetheart beneath that strict exterior.

10. the end of illusions (who could ever be saved) by lovelit [Tom/Percy, E, 3k] 🦁🐍 Percy discovers Tom's diary and things spiral from there. I absolutely adore Percy in this: hardworking, overlooked, and just seeking a friend.

11. Come Slowly, Eden by Paimpont [Voldemort/Molly, M, 3k] 💔🥧 A pairing that at first glace seems incongruous but actually works so well! Molly showing Voldemort kindness, and him showing her family mercy. *chef's kiss*

12. Tom Riddle Sr. by @limetameta [Tom & Tom Sr, T, 4k] 💔🏡 A Tom Riddle Sr. character study in which he raises Tom on his own. Voldemort is so much the same, and so much different. I would read so much more of this universe.

13. Unfinished by @turanga4 [Fat Friar & Harry, T, 1k] 💔🌙 Grief, love, and loss. A lovely, heartfelt look into the aftermath of the BOH and Harry finding comfort in Hogwarts.

14. Through the Sleepless Night by @mugsdontlie [Mundungus & Arabella, T, 2k] 🌼🐈 I love friendship fics and I love their friendship here! Mugs is the master of rare pair dynamics. There's such familiarity between the characters. It feels so real and the perfect backdrop to canon.

15. Sexy Gobs by @emilyrickman [Lighning Era & Professors, T, 650] 🌼📝 Hilarious and so creative. The formatting is insane! But I'm most impressed by creating a cohesive story simply from a couple of post-it notes.

BONUS FIC (>10k): Wit Beyond Measure by @midnightstargazer [Unrequited Bloody Baron/Grey Lady, T, 14k] 💔👑 Stunning, amazing fic showcasing Helena Ravenclaw. Struggling under the expectations of her mother, leaving to find herself, and returning to safeguard the castle's students. I love the depth, the fleshed-out insight we get into her character!

—

Want more fics to read?

Try my rec tag: #lumosinthelibrary

Bday Oneshots (<10k), Year in Reading, WLW Library

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 42 - Alliances

Welcome to the canon. Hawkins and Apoo arrive on the island.

Word Count: 4k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055 @eyes-ofhell

Things were somber around the castle in the wake of Victoria and Rose's ghosts. What was at first a celebration of their new base quickly became a time of grieving for the Kid Pirates, exchanging forlorn words of loved ones passed and stories they held of memories together. Naturally, most of the crew had lost someone close to them, many had gone to sea in revenge against marines or the World Government because of unlawful deaths, in the hopes of changing the world by making Kid king of the pirates, or at the very least getting some therapeutic revenge by slaying as many marines as possible.

Heat told you all about his mother, who had died protecting him from a rival to his father's gang. Heat was the heir to the gang, set to inherit it when his father passed, so he was often the target of attacks; it was how he got his scars. His mother fought valiantly, and had taken down his attacker, but at the cost of her own life. It was one of the reasons he was so eager to join forces with Kid and Killer when the same gang later killed Victoria, when Heat had grown to become a strong man and inherited the gang after his father's untimely death. Heat had never cared much for his father, especially since it was his father's failure to protect them that got his mother killed, but his mother had meant everything to him. Knowing she'd been by his side the whole time, still trying to protect him even as a grown man, had him erupting into tears every ten minutes, Wire's shirt now soaked with tears that stuck the netting to his skin as they dried. Heat had always been on the softer side, more intune with his feelings than the others, and he had never been ashamed to cry in front of his friends. It was something you admired greatly about him. How a life of crime and violence hadn't hardened him, you would never know.

When Kid finally relinquished his hold on you so you could give Killer some well overdue comfort, the conversation quickly moved to the unsettled topic of your own deceased child. Still unnamed, and still sitting in a box now moved into the castle, to a desk in the King's quarters where Kid had naturally taken up residence. It was a hard topic, but one you finally felt ready to broach. You still grieved, but now that you had both Killer and Heat at your side, and Dawn to mend those wounds, you felt more ready to allow yourself closure. Together you gave him the name Victor, in honour of Victoria, and made plans to scatter his ashes.

The next morning you, Killer, Kid, Heat and Wire all rowed out a little ways from the shore, where the ocean's current was stronger and the ashes wouldn't immediately be washed back to the sand, and away from the prying eyes of henchmen. There were no words really to be said, he'd never taken a breath, so there were no living memories of him. You'd long since said everything you needed to say, and Killer had never been good at speaking aloud his feelings. Instead you just silently held Killer's hand with one of yours, and Heat's with the other, while Killer poured the box of grey ashes that used to be your child into the water. The five of you watched the dust mix with the dark blue of the ocean before disappearing beneath the surface, silent tears shed by all as that chapter of your life was finally closed. You all sat there for a while, listening to the quiet waves and the calls of seabirds, before the boys picked the oars back up and made their way back to your living child.

The following days were made up mostly of meetings. Mohawk and Double didn't care for tactics, Mohawk was a doctor at heart and Double just wanted to sail, so neither of them attended the meetings, leaving you and the remaining four commanders to argue over the topic of alliances. Double didn't even agree to setting up a base in the first place but he'd been out voted, the man was born to be at sea and hated being on land. Even when the crew landed at an island he usually stayed on the ship while he waited for the log pose to reset, instead of staying at an inn like the rest of the crew. He spent most of his time on the base island just sailing idly around the circumference, trying to pass the time until the crew finally went back out to sea.

Kid wanted to go after Shanks in retaliation for his arm, it had long since been the plan, as had been making an alliance. After his first unfortunate overzealous encounter with the Yonko, Kid had learned the hard way that he couldn't take on an emperor on his own, he was stronger now but he wasn't prepared to take that risk again. Yet who Kid would ally with was still up for debate, with only other Worst Generation pirates really being on the radar for potential picks. Most of the group agreed that Basil Hawkins was a good candidate, he seemed level headed and calculated, with a similar sized crew to Kid, so he was practically locked in for an invite at this point. Killer suggested Scratchmen Apoo, and while you and Kid weren't convinced, you were both out voted three to two by Heat, Wire and Killer, so he was locked in as well. An invite would also be sent to Capone Bege, who seemed to have a strong devil fruit and significant crew size, but everyone agreed he would likely not respond, since word on the street was he had recently married into the Big Mom crew. You wanted to send an invite to the Heart Pirates, but that was quickly shut down since Kid apparently had some sort of beef with them from before your time, not to mention their captain's new Warlord status.

Several weeks passed as the castle was made ready in the hope of guests arriving. The castle was mostly in good condition, but to house three crews every room needed to be ready to be occupied, and there needed to be enough supplies for everyone. Not to mention plenty of booze, in case a celebration was to occur. And plenty of readied weapons, in case it went the other way. Kid wanted to make a good impression, to show off his new castle and show that he was the one best suited to be King of the Pirates, so the crew worked hard to make sure everything was clean and in working order before the guests could arrive.

The days were relatively calm amidst the easy work of bringing the well kept castle up to Kid's standards, and it served as a nice break from the usual chaos at sea. Though in saying that, Dawn seemed more unsettled than usual, likely due to the fact that she was no longer being constantly rocked by the ocean. After a week or so she finally began to settle, but in the meantime you were thankful she had three parents and a garrison of aunties and uncles, you would have gone insane without the extra help. Not to mention she was teething, and was chewing on anything she could get her hands on like a rabid dog, parents included.

Finally, after weeks of waiting, news came that both Hawkins and Apoo's ships had been spotted nearby, and with not much else in the area, they were no doubt headed to the hideout island. You were lounging with Heat and Kid when word came of the ships being spotted on the horizon, still a good few hours sailing away, but no doubt heading towards the base. Last minute preparations were made, both weapons and booze supplies checked over one last time to be certain everything was in order regardless of how the day went.

Ever since the ghost incident Kid had been more clingy, and you often found yourself pulled into his lap. Usually he just wanted a human teddy bear, he knew he was safe to show his vulnerability around you and he took full advantage of it. Killer obviously had no problem with it, but you were pleasantly surprised to find Heat also didn't mind. He didn't seem to care at all who flirted with you or potentially slept with you, as long as you still gave him affection. Today you were helping Kid with his nails, painting them with a fresh coat of his favourite red while Heat read aloud the newest newspaper for the two of you and searched it for underground information.

It was a little known fact that the newspapers often held secret encoded messages for those who knew how to decode them. Heat was one of these people, he'd learned long ago back in the South Blue from his father how to spot the messages and find their meaning, gaining access to securely guarded information like new weapons for sale and meetings being held between underground gangs. Killer also knew how to decipher them, as did Wire. Kid had never bothered to learn since he'd always had Killer to do it for him.

“Oi boss, says there's gonna be a broadcast for some new weapon,” Heat noted, circling letters with a red pen to find the exact date and time. You didn't at all understand the pattern he was using, it didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason to it, but he seemed to know exactly which letters he needed to circle to form the words, with a speed that told you he was well practised. It was impressive to watch him work, even if you had no clue how he was choosing the letters.

“Yeah?” Kid perked up, supporting you with his metal arm so you wouldn't fall from his lap as he shifted in his seat, “you got the line and time?”

“Yup, got it boss,” Heat declared, scribbling down a series of numbers on a scrap of paper that you assumed to be a den-den number, as well as a time. “Few hours from now it says”

“Aye, go let Killer know,” Kid replied, admiring your paint job so far and giving your waist a gentle appreciative squeeze with his metal arm, “and tell em to get the projector den-den setup”

“On it boss,” Heat responded, taking the scrap of paper with him to find the first mate while you finished Kid's nails, the captain using a metal paper weight to pull the abandoned newspaper to him so he could continue reading.

You, Killer and Kid sat on the long, lush sofa of the room the previous inhabitants of the castle had set up as a lounge, the room dark save for the light from the projector den-den as it splashed its video feed against the wall in front of you. The three of you watched as some sort of cage came into view, dangled on a chain above a snowy plain, inside it a few faces you recognized, and a few you didn't. Vice-Admiral Smoker, you knew him from your time in the Marines. Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. Ah, just as well you didn't send him an invite, clearly he was tied up. Captain of the Straw Hats, Monkey D. Luffy, which surprised you the most as he hadn't been seen since two years ago, or so you'd heard from the others. The battle of Marineford had happened while you were locked up, you'd only learned of it recently. The others you didn't recognise, crew mates perhaps? One girl looked closer to Smoker, another marine perhaps, the epaulettes on her pink jacket indicating she likely held some level of power.

The interest of the men beside you was piqued as the camera showed the inhabitants of the cage. “Hey, those are-” Killer began to say, before Kid cut him off by slamming his metal fist against the coffee table, making the top of it rattle under the shockwaves.

“So you've finally made your move, Straw Hat,” Kid growled. He stood to leave, annoyed and bored by the transmission, which seemed to be for some sort of large scale weapon. He didn't need to waste money on something like that, it's what he had you for. And besides, the other crews had arrived not long before the transmission had started, it was time he greeted his guests. You stood to follow him, equally bored and unimpressed with the weapon that moved far slower than you could.

“There's no point in just watching this,” Kid noted as Killer remained sitting, “and it's not like you pretend to be an arms dealer, Killer”

“You're right,” Killer mused as he stood to follow the two of you out of the room, “I would’ve never thought all three of them would be in the same place”

“That damn Trafalgar,” Kid huffed as the three of you made your way down the candlelit halls to the room that had been set up for the alliance meeting. “Just when I thought he'd lost his mind and settled for being the government's lapdog, it turns out he's been planning this all along.”

“He must be about to initiate some scheme,” Killer noted.

“We can't let him get ahead of us,” Kid growled as he approached the door to the meeting room, “We've gotta make our move now too.”

“Kid, I'm counting on you to keep things civil,” Killer chastised before Kid could open the door. You snorted a laugh as Kid rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, I know,” Kid grunted back as he opened the door.

An immediate explosion had the three of you shielding your faces, heat radiating from the open door as Killer put himself in front of you protectively. As the dust cleared you could see that an exterior wall had been entirely blown out, henchmen laying around unconscious or near to it scattered around the room, and several hiding on the remnants of the balcony outside. You sighed as you spotted Apoo amongst the chaos, the clear cause of it. You and Kid were totally right about that guy, what an asshole.

“Yow-pow-pow-pow, yo, Captain Kid!” Scratchmen sang. God, his voice was so grading, and not to be racist but his long arms were kinda freaking you out. “Your face gets uglier every time I see it.” Wow, and he's fucking rude.

The captain of the other alliance invite, Hawkins, sat at the round table, entirely unphased by the commotion as drew tarot cards from a deck and stuck them to long strands of straw, humming to himself as he interpreted the card’s meanings.

“Scratchmen!” Kid growled, his eye visibly twitching with anger, “What do you think you're doing? Don't make a mess of other people's hideouts!”

“We're sorry Captain,” one of your own henchmen called from the balcony, hidden by the remnants of the walls, “we couldn't stop him!”

“I thought you might have snipers posted, so I decided to make us safe,” Apoo jeered. You rolled your eyes and snorted at the ridiculous statement. The window to this room faced the ocean, the sniper would have to be floating midair to shoot anyone through the window, all he'd done was make it easier for someone to target them from the mountains. “Anyone who receives an invite from the enemy has to arrive ready for a fight”

“See Killer,” Kid huffed to the first mate, “this is why I told you not to invite him!”

“I agree with Kid,” you replied flatly, kicking a piece of rubble with your boot, “look at this fucking mess”

“Calm down, he's strong,” Killer reasoned.

“Yeah, clearly all brawn no brain,” you snorted under your breath for only his ears.

“You make your guests wait, after you invite them?” Hawkins finally spoke, seemingly done with his tarot reading and now shuffling the cards back into the deck, “You really have no manners”

“You too?” Kid growled, “I'm gonna kill every last one of you!”

You rolled your eyes as Kid began making every piece of metal in the room float to begin his ill thought out attack, and you heard Killer make a deep, exasperated sigh. “I'm getting out of here, good luck,” you told him as you turned to leave. “Have fun wrangling the children”

Killer made another deep sigh as you passed him, a fight breaking out in the meeting room as you shut the door behind you.

The castle grounds were occupied by a flurry of activity as you made your way outside, feeling the warm sun of the spring island on your skin as you took in the view of the two newcomer pirate crews taking advantage of being able to stretch their legs. The air was tense though, everyone was waiting on a decision from the three captains held up in the meeting room. You could no longer hear Kid's boisterous yelling, so that had to be a good sign at least. Either the captains would come to an agreement, and a celebration would ensue, or the captains would disagree, and fights would break out.

You spotted Heat hanging with some of your own crew, Dawn cradled in his arms as he fed her a bottle of previously pumped milk, little arms waggling and trying their best to grab his blue locks.

“How's it lookin’ in there?” Wire asked as you took your seat between him and Heat, giving your boyfriend a soft peck on the cheek as a greeting as you sat. It didn't matter how long you were Heat's girlfriend, public displays of affection like that still made him blush without fail every time, and you giggled at the soft flush of pink on his scarred cheeks.

“Well, they weren't dead when I left,” you sighed, “but we'll see how long that sticks. Kil’s gonna have to put Kid on a tight leash if they wanna come to any sort of agreement. Scratchmen blew the fucking castle wall out,” you huffed, “some bullshit excuse about snipers. Probably just wanted to start shit, it's gonna be a mess to fix”

“He certainly has an… interesting… devil fruit,” Wire hummed.

“Have you seen his teeth?” You cringed at the mere thought of those weird fucking piano keys, “and here I thought my devil fruit was bad with the thing it did to my eyes, at least I have my fucking teeth”

A faint shadow passing over the ground caught your attention, a cloud passing over the sun perhaps, but you were pulled back to the conversation by Heat handing a sleepy, milk drunk Dawn to you.

“Naw, look at her, she's wasted,” Wire cooed at the baby. “A born pirate, that one. Not even legal drinking age and she's already smashed”

“Wire!” You laughed, smacking him half heartedly. “Call my daughter an alcoholic again and the next poop-splosion is your problem!”

“PLEASE NO!” Wire recoiled, “Fuck, now there's an idea for a fresh new torture method. We make our enemies change Dawn's diaper”

“Oh come on, it's not that bad,” you huffed, before an unearthly gurgling sound came from the baby in your arms, signalling the coming of a stinky situation.

“YOURS!” Heat and Wire yelled in unison as they stood and began to run. You stomped your foot to the ground to create a shockwave, laughing as both of them lost their footing and ate dirt.

“Pussies,” you laughed as they struggled to their feet and brushed the dust off. Heat reluctantly took Dawn from you, an apologetic smile on his face as he gave you a kiss on the forehead and took her to the castle to change, a defeated Wire in tow.

Hours later and the three captains finally emerged from the castle, the evening erupting into cheers as it was announced that an alliance had been formed. It was just as well that the sun set late on this island, allowing for ample daylight as barrels of liquor and instruments were dragged outside from the castles and ships to celebrate. The On-Air Pirates played some frankly fucking awful music, but you did your best to ignore it and let the contagious high spirits take you as you drank with your friends. Only non-alcoholic drinks for yourself, of course, given the little lady in your arms.

Kid and Killer came to join you, Heat and Wire where the three of you sat on a downed log. Kid was in high spirits, and Killer quickly took hold of Dawn who was currently awake, small hands immediately reaching for the familiar mask she seemed to adore. You were fairly sure Dawn thought Killer was two different people with and without the mask, which was amusing to think about. There was no competition for which Killer she liked more, the stripes on his mask always entertained her to no end. Her giggles made everyone crack smiles as she tried to grab at the stripes on the mask.

“Worked out then, boss?” Heat asked.

“Aye,” Kid replied with a messy swig of his tankard, a pleased smile on his face. “We'll take down Shanks, and we'll split his territory three ways.”

“We'll be taking a few weeks here to plan the specifics,” Killer continued, swinging his mask back and forth to make Dawn giggle as he spoke, “but once we have it figured out we'll set sail. He's been sighted in the area recently so it shouldn't be hard to find him”

The others continued to speak of tactics but you were distracted by another shadow in the sky. You'd chalked it up to a cloud before, having only seen the shadow on the ground, but this time you had been looking up, and saw the shadow momentarily sweep through the clouds themselves. This was no cloud.

“Hawkins predicts we have a eighty percent chance of-” Kid began, before you grabbed his flesh arm to get his attention, cutting his sentence off. “Oi, what you grabbin’ me for woman?”

“Did you see that?” You asked nervously, looking at the clouds. The rest of the group followed your line of sight, just in time to catch another large, dark shadow. The hairs on the back of your neck raised, something wasn't right here. It felt like that island you'd raided months and months ago, with the dragon that had attacked you out of nowhere. Killer still had the scar in his arm from its thick claw.

“The fuck?” Kid growled in confusion. Others began to take note, more and more looking to the sky and seeing the shadow move, until suddenly - something fell.

Killer turned himself away protectively to shield Dawn as the object made impact with the ground, Kid shielding you with his own body as shockwaves sent most of the three crews flying, a cloud of dust bellowing up from the ground in what had been the center of the celebrations. There was an aerie silence as the dust settled, before Killer was the first to regain his composure and jumped into action, forcing Dawn into your arms and spinning you to face the castle. His observation haki was going haywire, something was wrong, something was very, very wrong.

“Castle, now!” He shouted at you, giving you a firm push to get you moving, yourself still confused at what was happening, “go to your room, hide, don't come out till I find you, understand?”

“But-” you protested.

“No buts,” Killer pushed again, “I love you, now get Dawn out of here, GO!”

[NEXT CHAPTER]

Like my stuff? Consider buying me a ko-fi

[illicitlimerence-writes]

the 1 | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x ex!reader word count: 4k words (how the hell did that happen?) request: yes, by anon: “hi, can i request a story with charles and reader based on driver’s license by olivia rodrigo? maybe high school sweethearts that broke up because they couldn’t handle long distance (for charles ascending career).  fluffy ending with them maybe getting back together years later and him being proud because reader is actually a really nice driver” prompt: character a and character b broke up, but now they meet at a christmas party. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: language, flashbacks, a ton of references to taylor swift and olivia rodrigo. THE AGES AND YEARS MIGHT NOT MAKE SENSE BUT I TRIED MY BEST lol a/n: day 6! i really didn’t plan this to be so long. what can i say… i have no self control. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

there was a time when sneaking around was fun, exciting. when their worlds revolved only around each other and the only worry in their minds was keeping their relationship a secret. 

their friend group was a close knit one, they knew each other since they were kids and had grown up together, and when they’d reached the age of first boyfriends, girlfriends, and other partners, they’d all made a pact to never date someone from the group. 

the fact that it was forbidden only made things more interesting for them. 

what fools they’d been, hoping for a forever at such a young age, thinking their love would be eternal and nothing could ever come between them.

they thought they were in the clear, for so long their friends were unaware of the relationship between the two of them, they would reach an age where they would never care that they’d been hiding the truth for so many years. 

six years together was enough to know they’d never feel a love like theirs.

but he was a passionate person, and whilst she loved when that passion was directed to her, on other occasions it felt as if she were the second option. the other thing to occupy his mind when he got tired of racing.

teenage daydreams turned into nightmares. their young age meant they felt everything. and everything was intense and fiery and red. 

how ironic it was, that the color that had best described their secret relationship turned into a color that would chase him around wherever he went. that right when his career seemed to go the up, when his future looked gold, his personal life had hit an all time low, when the scarlet fire that burned between them had turned into ashes. 

she always knew he was destined for greatness. and he was so determined and focused and so in love with racing that it was only natural, only obvious that he’d climb his way to the top teams of his sport in a short time. his talent was one that she’d neverseen in anyone, and he loved showing it off, not in a braggy way, but he knew what he was capable of, and he wasn’t afraid to show it, he saw no reason to hide it. 

age 18.

“slow down!” she yelled as she laughed, holding onto the side of the car door. all the windows were down, as was the top, they were finally putting to good use charles’ convertible car.

“don’t listen to her, charles, speed up!” one of their friends, nate, added from the back of the car. the five of them were celebrating charles’ birthday, he was the first in their group to turn 18 and he’d just gotten his driver’s license, finally free to drive around wherever he wanted.

charles laughed, speeding a little before settling for a constant speed that wasn’t too fast or too slow. 

“it’s a great thing your parents gave you a car, now we have a personal chauffeur,” she said, throwing a teasing smile his way. they were seating in the front, with their three friends in the back, but somehow it felt as if they were the only ones there.

“no, none of that. you have to learn how to drive, too, otherwise what are you going to do when i’m gone?”

“go with you, duh,” she rolled her eyes.

“hey, that is true, because at least we all know how to drive, we’re ready. but you don’t… why don’t you?” another one of their friends, elise, asked.

“i don’t know,” she shrugged, “i’ve never had the need to. and to be honest, i don’t know how good of a driver i’ll be if i ever sit behind the wheel.” she admitted.

“yeah, we’ve all seen you play mario kart, you always seem to find the wall.” charles laughed, making her hit his shoulder with a fist.

“shut up. keep that up and i won’t learn how to drive just to spite you.” 

they laughed, enjoying the moment of freedom, just the five of them, five friends since birth, friends til death. five friends, two lovers.

-

it had been years since the five of them were all back home for the holidays, sometimes either only one of them was gone, or they were all away, but after three years, they were all back home at the same time. and that was something to be celebrated. they’d all seen each other throughout the years, but never the five of them at once.

charles arrived first, the christmas dinner was taking place at elise’s apartment, she’d just moved into her new place, so this worked both as a reunion and a housewarming. he’d decided to walk there, since it was on the same street as his building. he took the elevator and knocked on the door, he heard shuffling of feet approach and wrapped his fingers a little tighter around the neck of the wine bottle he’d bought.

“hey, charles, i wasn’t expecting anyone to be punctual,” elise laughed, moving aside to let him in.

“i’m the first one here?” he asked, raising the bottle, “this is for you, by the way. congrats on the new place,” he smiled.

“thank you! welcome, make yourself at home, but do take your shoes off because that white rug is new,” she smiled, walking to the kitchen, “and yeah, but nate called like two minutres ago, he and marie are on their way.”

“oh, and…” he didn’t finish, and it was finally hitting him that he’d be seeing her again.

“(y/n) is going to be a bit late, she had to go to the museum in nice so she’s probably going to be stuck in a little bit of traffic,”

“she’s- she didn’t take the train?” he asked.

“no, she drove there.”

“she drives?” he asked, sounding completely surprised by that. she was always so apprehensive whenever that topic arose in conversation.

“yeah! you didn’t know? she’s… you remember how we always used to joke around with her always crashing once she learned how to drive?” charles nodded, prompting her to continue,  “she actually aced her driving test, both the technical and the written tests.”

“oh, i… i didn’t know that,”

“what happened with you two? you used to be inseperable. like, yeah, all five of us were close, but it was always charles and (y/n), and then us.”

“i- i’m not sure. i guess… distance and responsibilities was just a lot for our friendship.”

“well maybe you can rekindle that friendship now. it’ll do you both good.”

“yeah,” charles said, and right then the doorbell rang.

he felt like he needed some peace and quiet to think, but with his two friends arriving just then, that seemed impossible to get. 

if he was honest, he hadn’t given himself much time to think about her. at first, of course, she was the only thing in his mind, they’d spent six years together, and he couldn’t believe how it was all slipping from his fingers so easily.

age 21.

she sighed as she heard the automatic voicemail message, she had been trying to call charles for the past five minutes and all she was met with was his pre-recorded message.

“charles, you better pick up this damn phone. i can’t believe you, how could you miss this? i asked you time and time again, even moved this three times for you. and where are you? not here. i- i don’t know if i can keep doing this. you always promise that i’m your priority, but that’s just not true. if you don’t want to be with me then just say it, i’m a big girl and i can handle it. but i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice. and i know that your career is important, trust me i know that better than anyone. all i asked of you was one night, one night for you to actually be there for me. you know what? forget it, don’t even bother coming. not to the museum, or to my apartment. and don’t worry about me, i’ll find my way home. i don’t need you to drive me around anymore.”

she hung up, staring out to the city of nice. it was the opening of a new exhibit in the museum of modern and contemporary art, an exhibit that she’d been a big part of, probably her proudest achievement, considering she was still a student in university. everyone was there for her. her parents, friends, classmates and workers from the museum. well, almost everyone. 

charles hadn’t replied since earlier that morning. he didn’t wish her good luck, or even acknowledged the opening of the exhibit. he just said ‘see you tonight’. and that was it. he was in italy, had been for the past week. ever since the announcement that he was making the switch from sauber to ferrari she’d been seeing him even less than when he started racing in f1. she understood, of course, that there were certain responsibilities that came when being a ferrari driver. she knew that, she was his biggest supporter, but she wished that he was as passionate about her achievements as she was of his. or even acknowledge them and congratulate her. 

many times she’d told herself that she was being selfish, of course things were going to change once charles made it to the big leagues, but things were changing too fast. he spent more time away from home than with her, and when he was home he was practicing on his simulator, or preparing for an interview, a ferrari event. 

this was the last straw. it was a long time coming, and him not showing up, not even bothering to text back, this was enough.

she walked back inside, but stumbled into a waiter passing by, causing him to drop his tray on top of her. her dress now sported a wine-colored stain right in the middle. it was a dress charles had gifted her on one of their anniversaries. it was poetic, how the dress was now ruined, as was their relationship. she ran to the coat room, wrapping her black coat around her. she wasn’t going to let anything else ruin this night.

the next morning, she signed up for driving lessons.

two weeks later, she was getting perfect marks on both tests.

she once said she wouldn’t learn to drive just to spite him, but this was better. to show him that she didn’t need him anymore. 

-

the four friends were having a nice time, drinking wine and eating chips and other snacks as dinner was cooking. 

“elise, i swear, next time we’re hanging out at my place because finding a parking spot is impossible around here,” a new voice said, walking in through the front door. 

there she was.

wearing a tan, long coat, a briefcase-style bag hanging from her shoulder, all black turtleneck sweater, leggings and boots on. makeup done to perfection, a deep shade of red on her lips. 

“hello everyone,” she smiled, tossing her bag on the floor and walking to the dining area. “what did i miss?” she asked, and everyone started filling her in on their previous conversation topics.

she hadn’t even glanced at him. not once.

charles didn’t even know if she knew he was coming, if he was there at all. 

-

it wasn’t until later, when everyone’s cheeks were flushed from the wine, when the leftover food was growing cold in the forgotten plates, and they were all sitting around the living room, sharing stories and memories of years’ past, that they talked to each other.

“... and the museum is doing a really cool charity event in late january, so that’s where all of our focus is right now,” she finished catching everyone up to speed about her job in the museum. ever since college that place had become her home. “you’re all invited, of course, we need all the help we can get.”

“when is it?” charles asked, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was impressed by everything she was handling in the museum, she did a little bit of everything, but those little bits eventually turned into big, great things. he was impressed, however, not surprised. he always knew she could do it, she’d fallen in love with art in her teenage years, the first time they visited a contemporary museum. they’d gone together, of course, and charles couldn’t forget the way her eyes widened, the way she clearly understood what the artist wanted to say, it was love at first sight. 

“the 21st,” she turned to him. charles had expected a reaction from her, but she looked at him like he was just her friend. 

“we’ll be there,” nate said. 

“you’re not busy, superstar?” marie joked, looking at charles.

“i don’t think so. and if i am i’ll just move whatever to a different day.”

“you don’t have to do that,” she said, and this time charles caught something. her voice sounded a little harsher.

“i want to, we haven’t seen each other in so long, and you’ve done a lot for me, it’s only fair that i return the favor,” he smiled, wanting to get something more out of her, he got nothing, only a nod.

-

age 19.

“come on, you’ve been, quite possibly, the best person i ever could’ve asked for. it’s only fair i return the favor.” charles said, keeping his hand over her eyes as he led her to the surprise he’d prepared for her.

“you know i don’t need anything,” she chuckled, and he could feel her smile, the apples of her cheeks rising.

“well, this is more something for me, but it’s going to be good for you, eventually,”

“what do you mean?” she asked, still up for whatever he was planning. he removed his hand from her eyes. “what-”

“it’s your very own private driving lesson,” charles explained, making her laugh.

“charles, i don’t need to learn how to drive,”

“of course you do! you have to at least know the basics,”

“gas, brake, turn to the right, turn to the left, lights… i think i got it.”

“come on,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, “why don’t you want to learn?”

“i don’t know. i guess… i enjoy having you to drive me around, i like singing in the car with you, with the wind blowing in my hair, or just sitting in silence and watching the landscapes outside. i like doing that with you. plus… i’m afraid of having control of a car, because what if i lose control? what if the brakes fail, or someone crashes into me… it’s a lot to think about all the time. i think i’m just not made for driving.”

“well, lucky for you i was made for driving, and i like having you as my co-pilot, there’s no one else i’d rather have by my side.”

-

“it’s gifts time!” nate said loudly. “i’ll start,” he declared, standing up and picking a bag off the floor. “for you,” he started, handing a white envelope to (y/n), “and you,” he said, giving charles a small box, “and you,” he gave elise a wrapped gift that resembled a mug in shape, “and finally, you,” he said, giving marie a thin, long box.

they all opened theirs, marie got a hand-made friendship bracelet. elise got a new mug, charles got a pair of boxers with lightning mcqueen all over them, and (y/n) got a ticket to an exhibit in a parisian museum.

elise was next, then marie. as marie sat down, after handing everyone their gifts, charles pulled out his phone, sending a few pdf files to their groupchat.

“merry christmas, guys.” he said as all their phones rang. they all opened the files, each named after one of them, they were confirmations to a hotel booking, as well as a scanned picture of what would be their vip passes for the italian grand prix in monza.

“charles!”

“no way!”

“italia, mio home, here i come,” nate said, pinching his fingers together.

she gave him a small smile, muttering a ‘thanks’ as she stood up.

“well, now i wish i hadn’t been last, nothing can top that off,” she said, “but i hope you all like these. merry christmas, i hope we get to spend many more years as friends, and more evenings like this.” she said, handing them all their gifts and sitting down to watch their expressions. she loved giving gifts. 

nate received a new gaming headset, eloise got a tea set, marie got a sweater, and charles got a replica of an f1 car, he inspected it closely.

“it’s made out of carrara marble,” she explained. 

“wow, it’s… beautiful, thank you.”

“you’re welcome, i’ve… nevermind,” she said, charles was about to ask her what she wanted to say but was interrupted with nate announcing he was leaving. marie left with him, and not long after she was saying her goodbyes too.

“i guess that’s my cue to leave, too.”

“i didn’t see your car,” she said, she would’ve remembered seeing his car parked somewhere.

“i walked here, i didn’t see the point in driving,”

“huh,” she said, grabbing her bag and hanging it from her shoulder. charles frowned as she walked to elise, hugging her. “well, i’ll give you a lift if you want.”

yes, yes, yes, please. yes. go with her.

everything inside of him lit up at her offer, part of him couldn’t believe she was even offering in the first place. he said goodbye to elise quickly, rushing after her.

“wait up,” he said, jogging to catch up. 

they didn’t speak as the elevator went down, she could feel his eyes on her, shifting away to try and be subtle. as they exited the building he had to follow her, he didn’t even know what car she drove. 

“you’re shitting me,” he said, looking at the silver logo in front of the car.

“what? not all of us can afford a ferrari,” she said, “what? you can’t be seen inside a mercedes?” she smirked. out of instinct, charles walked to the driver’s side, but stopped in his tracks as she unlocked the door and watched him standing there. “i know this is usually your side, but you’re a passenger for these next minutes,” 

charles was left speechless as he walked to the passenger side, it felt so foreign. especially when she was the one behind the wheel. he closed the door as he got in, and waited for her to turn on the car. he turned to her when she didn’t.

“seatbelt,” she reminded him.

charles couldn’t stop the small chuckle that left his lips.

“you’re a really responsible driver,” he said.

“of course i am. no one knows what might happen.”

“i- i have to say, it’s really weird seeing you like this,”

“i know. but… turns out i’m a damn great driver. it helps me relax, and it’s… thrilling, to work in sync with the right machine to get from point a to point b…”

“now you get what i feel with my cars.”

“i always got that,” she clarified. “i always knew how important driving is to you. it just hurt to know that it was more important than me.”

“it wasn’t- it-”

“oh, please,” she chuckled humorlessly, turning on the car, she checked the mirrors before leaving the parked space. “i’ve made my peace with that a long time ago, it’s okay to admit it. i’m but hurt. not anymore.”

“but it wasn’t i-”

“listen, i don’t… i don’t want to discuss this, racing was your number one priority and that’s completely fine, i get it. it’s normal to get so caught up in it that you forget about everything else. i’m sure i used to do that too, with the museum and all,”

“you did, but not like i did. and i… i’m sorry, for… making you feel like that.”

“like i said, i made my peace with that long ago, i don’t need an apology.”

“well, i still feel like i owe you one.”

“it’s fine, you don’t have to feel guilty. we were young, dumb, still feeling like we were teenagers, pretending to even know what future was like. we were each other’s first love, it’s normal to still have feelings.”

“do you?”

“what?”

“have feelings? for me?”

“i feel a lot of things, charles, and six years, plus so many more as friends, are not easy to forget. it would’ve been nice, you know.”

“what?”

“if you would’ve been the one. it’s a story just straight from a movie. do you think-” she cut herself off.

“what?” charles asked, and he remembered the other thought she’d stopped herself from saying out loud back at elise’s.

“do you think that… if one thing had been different… everything would be different? today? now?”

charles stayed quiet, thinking about every little thing he would’ve done differently. 

“maybe. yeah.”

“yeah,” she repeated.

she’d been driving around in circles, they’d reached charles’ building about five minutes ago, but she hadn’t stopped driving. she kept doing the same four turns over and over again. 

“what were you going to say… when you gave me the car?” he asked.

“oh, that. it’s… nothing, really. just… that i’ve had that for a long time.”

“since we…”

“it was going to be your birthday present.”

“and you never threw that away.”

“it’s made from the same material as ‘david’, i wasn’t just going to throw that away. or give it to someone who wouldn’t cherish it.”

“well… thank you. and congratulations on being a great driver, though… i don’t think the cameras will agree after seeing you pass here for the seventh time,” he said as she was making a right turn. 

“thanks. and i guess… i have to thank you, too. if we… if we’d never broken up i… i never would’ve become me.”

“that… hurt,” he admitted. “but i get it. i should also thank you. you… did so much for me, gave up so much that i… i guess i took you for granted. and it only took having you away from me to really know how much you did for me without me even noticing. so… thank you. and i like this new you. you seem… happy.”

“i am. but still… i can’t shake the feeling that i’m missing something.”

“what?”

“you. even though you made me grow up, i still feel like i need to have my teenage side, and… there’s so much i want to do, but new me is responsible, she’s proper, she’s professional. and sometimes, i get tired of all of it. you always made me feel like a kid, in the best way possible, you made me feel like everything was possible, that it’s okay to let loose and have an adventurous side. i need that, i miss that.”

“well, i’m staying here all month. and i’m more than happy to help you rediscover your wild side.”

“don’t say it like that,” she laughed.

“no, no, i didn’t mean it like that, but-” he chuckled, “i guess that offer stands, too.”

“not happening. not now, at least.”

“so there’s a chance?”

“i don’t know. we’ll have to see.”

“i know. here’s adventure number one: drive to the harbor.”

“the- why?” she asked, driving there, anyway.

“we’re about to take a midnight stroll,” he explained.

“okay, but…  why the harbor?”

“it’s not your typical stroll, we’re not the ones doing the walking.”

“then?”

“have you ever seen ‘sedici’?” he asked.

“what’s that?”

“my yacht.”

“a midnight boat ride?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“what do you say?”

“you better be a damn good captain as i am a driver,”

“you’d be surprised.”

“i’m ready to be surprised.”

[vendetta-if]

4K Followers Celebration - Public Side Story Released 🎉

As voted by you guys, to celebrate the blog hitting 4K Followers milestone, I'll be releasing another side story to the public 🥳

The story that you guys chose is the one telling about the Vodka incident that Ash and MC talked about during the party! It's written in Ash's POV and it's more than 6K words long, so I separated it in two different posts.

I hope you guys enjoy it! Feel free to leave comments and send asks about it 🥰 And, if you guys are interested in supporting me, please consider checking out my Patreon or Ko-Fi page 💖

Without further ado, here are the links to the story!

Vodka Misadventure [Part 1] | [Part 2]

And, if you guys haven't, feel free to check out the linked post below to read other publicly released side stories!

Public Side Stories List

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

AEMOND POV

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Thoughts of manipulation and hurt, violence and assault. Obsessive themes and possessiveness.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: AEMOND!POV, Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Word count: 4k

Note: Two posts in one day? I am spoiling you all... but only because I love you hehe. This is Aemond's POV from Chapters 16 and 17, where the feast of celebrations for Helaena and Aegon's union is taking place. I did have to split this into two parts as it ran over 10k words lol, so here is Chapter's 16-17 and I will be posting Chapters 18-19 very soon. Anyway, enough of me talking !!! ENJOY! <3

AEMOND POV: Chapters 16 & 17

He sat at the table, lined with his family, whilst awaiting for the other half, eye roaming over the empty seats, that would soon be filled by the Blacks. 

And how he anticipated their arrival. 

More specifically, yours. 

Aegon had been sitting nearby, downing cups of wine and ale faster than he should have, becoming red in the face and drunker by the minute. 

Aemond was loyal to his older brother, though this did not mean that he had to particularly like him. Despite some brotherly love he had for the eldest, there was the suffocating disgust, and hatred that boiled into his very core.

His childhood tormentor. 

His brother.

A man who cared very little for the crown and its duties, or his duty as a Prince to the realm. A man who whored and drank himself into a stupor, and abused the kindness of their sister. 

That was something to Aemond that was unforgivable.

Aemond noted that his mother looked anxious, and although her hands found themselves busy amongst the cups upon the table, or holding themselves in her lap, there was the undeniable fidgeting that was there too.

King Viserys sat at the table silently, his son believing it due to the mans ailment, more than his distaste for his other children. In fact, Viserys was never too interested in Aemond, nor Daeron, but showed love regardless, however, more towards Aegon until he had become more, and more drunk, and a love for Helaena that had never dwindled. 

Though as his illness progressed, his ability to be present for his children lessened. In fact, his ability to be present at all had declined until soon, Aemond’s mother and grandfather held the realm for him in his absence.

When would the old bastard die?

By the looks of it, the One-Eyed Prince surmised that his father did not have much longer to live. His skin grew paler by the day, and it was a rare occurrence, that had not been seen, for the man to not be placated by milk of the poppy. 

Aemond’s distaste for his father did not come from nowhere. 

It was years of neglect, no dragon egg in his crib as was tradition, no interception of the bullying that he endured, and no sympathy for the eye that was lost, that led to the rift of their relationship, if any was there at all.

Aemond remembered that fateful night clearly. 

He remembered how instead of his father coming to console his son for the loss of his eye at the age of only ten, instead threatened the young boy with removing his tongue for a truth that was spoken by most people in court, and most importantly, his wife.

And eye for an eye, his mother had said. 

He supposed the Gods had come late when they had taken Viserys’ for his place in that evening. 

But soon he would pass, and a new nightmare would begin. His brother would take the throne and rule over the Kingdom, and once again, Aemond would have to bend to his brothers will.

And as he waited amongst the sea of sounds, Lords and Ladies of the realm laughing and speaking loudly, music playing amongst the sides of the garden, and quiet chatter at his own table between Otto and Alicent, he impatiently asked the Gods to hurry the day along and deliver you to him.

The Gods answered Aemond’s prayers.

At first he saw the silver hair of his half-sister and uncle, both dressed in black as per usual, and both with their heads held high in an almost dangerously proud fashion.

Behind them, were your two bastard brothers, hair as dark as Ser Harwin Strong’s, and eyes as brown as the bark of the Godswood. Beside them their betrothed, and together, a vision of the evening his eye had been taken from him.

Then there was you. 

Trailing along at the back, taking your time, with the same posture as your parents.

Dangerously prideful, boastful even.

He was not sure what he had been expecting, but as you walked through the garden, through the sea of tables and Lords and Ladies of the realm, and as their eyes turned to stare upon your form, he could not help but feel a sense of pride and anger. 

Another Dornish dress. 

You were teasing him.

It looked to him to be two pieces, and those two pieces were fit to your form perfectly, almost painted on. And how he wished to rip it off of you. 

The top was of the finest leather, folded perfectly to your frame, with a high neck and a cut out space were the soft, pillowy flesh of your breasts were visible. A black skirt with red peeking through drew his attention to your legs and hips, swaying with each step as you sauntered up to the table to join them for the celebrations.

Each step you took, each breath you inhaled, caused your breasts to push against the soft leather, only tempting the young Prince further. He wished to run his tongue along the supple skin showing, in front of all the men and women, and the King be damned.

Aemond used all of his restraint to not jump up from the table and pull you away from the crowd, to fuck you roughly against the castle walls, his bed chambers, your bed chambers, in the dragon pit even. He would fuck you in the garden, and in the roots of the Godswood to show them that you were meant to be his, and under their eyes you would be.

But then as the closer you got to him, the more time he had to let his lone eye gaze at the people who were also watching you. And the bitter rage and disgust flooded him faster than the lust did. 

Those mens eyes, even married Lord’s, watched you hungrily, and you did not even care for it.

In fact, he was sure that you enjoyed it. 

That you lived for the attention that you were getting from the scandalous outfit. From the way the bodice hugged your form and waist, to how your breasts were softly teased to the garden. And what it made it all worse, was that you were not promised to anyone. 

And that made you fair game.

As you came to sit by him and Helaena, and the rest of your family and bastard brothers sat and observed him with wary eyes, he found jealousy in having you greet everyone but him.

Even his drunken brother.

“Princess Helaena, you look beautiful. Gold is a wonderful colour on you.” You had complimented his sister, and oh how sweet your voice sounded. 

Those lips which could spout such poison, such vitriol and discontent, which could rip and tear at you easily, were so syrupy with his sister. 

And he envied it.

He wished that you would acknowledge him, tell him that he looked good that afternoon. That you had noticed that he had spent time and effort on himself, and had noticed that his maids had brushed gentle scented oils into his long hair, braiding half behind his head. 

But you didn’t.

Nor did you spare him a glance. 

A short snort came from the pursed lips of Aegon, who’s goblet had not seemed to move from his face. Aegon these days, as closer as their father got to death, had become closer to drinking himself into his own cups. 

He had watched as you held your tongue and instead smiled at Aegon, and Aemond wished to launch himself across the table and squeeze the life out of his brother for ever having the privilege of having such a smile given to him.

No matter how insincere.

And then the sweet, syrupy tone of your voice was quickly exchanged with the sour bite of your disdain as Aegon continued to push you to fight, push you to react, and the more Aemond watched the interaction, the more concerned he became. 

Aemond was not the only man who had noticed you that evening, nor the Lords of the realm. Instead, Aegon had set his sights onto you, and once again, Aemond was left to feel as though his brother would swoop in to take what was his. 

“Has anyone told you how delightful you look today?”

Aemond imagined what it would be like to slip a blade into the throat of his brother and yank it swiftly to the side, pulling his flesh from his bones, to watch the thick blood pour from the wound he would create.

Alicent cringed, and Aemond felt all the more incensed. 

How many times did his brother have to cause his mother’s distress? How many times did they both have to pick up after him? To constantly watch over him him? A man grown, and older than he?

Aemond almost sighed in relief as you dodged his brothers crude comment, instead directing the positive attention back to Helaena. 

How you always doted on her. 

You would be such a good mother.

He could not wait to give you his seed.

As the evening wore on, you had pulled your favourite fruit from in front of you. And he watched, as he always did, your delicate hands begin to pull the juicy flesh apart.

The nectar ran down from your fingers, dripping to your wrist slowly, the afternoon light glinting against it. He watched as you placed chunks of the fruit into your mouth and chewed with half shut eyes in delight of the taste, listening to those around you conversing. 

Aemond found that he could not pay attention to the low tones of his grandfather and mother, nor the whispers of Daemon and Rhaenyra. He could only focus on you, and the sounds you made as you chewed.

Sounds you were not even aware of. 

Tiny contented sighs and moans fell from your plush lips, so quiet that anyone would have to strain to hear it, and Aemond was straining to hear anything that left your pretty mouth. 

What would it feel like for him to brush his thumb against the bottom of your lip, sticky with star fruit? Would you suck his thumb into your mouth crudely? Would you kiss at the tip? Or lick at it gently as you looked at him with your violet eyes. 

The thought went straight to his cock, and he felt himself hardening inside his breaches.

And then you began to lick at your fingers, soft, pink tongue coming out to chase the nectar as it dripped from the fruit and made a mess of you, and it took everything within him to not kiss you then and there. 

Would you lick his cum from your fingers like that? After to bringing him to release with your hand or mouth? Or perhaps you had scooped his seed from within you, drawing it up to your lips to taste your combined essence? 

He knew you would be insatiable.

Or perhaps you would lick at the juices from your own cunt? Tongue wet with your own slick that you would drag from your fluttering hole, up to your waiting lips. 

Would he fuck you with his hand, feeling you tighten around his digits and your release coat his palm? Would he bring those fingers up to your mouth to clean? And would you lick them so diligently like the dutiful wife he would make you?

Aemond wished to feel your tongue sliding up his shaft before licking and sucking at the tip of his cock. He wanted to see your hands and mouth coated with his seed, not the nectar of the star fruit.

But then Daemon had cleared his throat, and you had turned to witness Aemond staring at you, devouring the star fruit, and you had become oh so meek, so demure, so pure, and discontinued your ravaging of the Dornish delicacy. Aemond cursed his uncle in his head, and made a note that he was being watched.

You still had not acknowledged him.

Still had not greeted his presence despite being so close. Still had not met him with your usual snark, or attitude, or disgust filled eyes. It was as if he did not exist. 

And he hated it.

You had even made conversation with his own grandfather, Otto, who you had made very clear, from your return, of your disdain for. But even still, you met his questions with answers and returned them in kind.

It incensed him. 

Why were you ignoring him?

“You look lovely, Princess Y/n.” As the words left his mouth, the young man thought to himself, let the games begin.

You had straightened your back and taken a deep breath in, before you had finally met his own eye. Violet met violet, and suddenly you were facing each other, and he fell straight into your eyes. 

A dangerous trap they were, and oh so tempting for any mortal man.

“Thank you, Prince Aemond. You are far too kind.” 

The syrup was back.

Was it strengthened by the nectar of the fruit you had made love to?

“I don’t believe I’ve seen such a dress before, at least not in this court.” 

Aemond fought to not lean forward to get a closer look, and instead, pushed himself back into his chair to restrain himself.

“It was made specially for an occasion such as this, a tailor in Dorne creates the most wonderful pieces.”

Such a boastful little thing. 

So much pride.

“Hmm. Dorne does have many exotic things….”

To his disappointment, at the topic of Dorne you had turned excitedly to talk to Helaena about the exotic fruits and spices there. Animatedly telling short tales, and making promises to your aunt that you would go together.

He felt himself relax as he watched Helaena smile, a rare occurrence these days, and Aemond felt gladdened for it, but then Aegon snickered loudly, and wrapped his rough hand around Helaena, and Aemond watched the sickly sweet air around you turn sour, in a blink of an eye. 

“Our niece does know how to talk, doesn’t she?” Aegon breathed into Helaena's face, and Aemond wished to hit the man in the mouth, lest it ever be opened again. 

He did not know how his mother allowed for him to treat her in such a manner. He did not know how he could abuse her, and use her, and treat her worse than a commoner. 

Than a whore. 

How Helaena had sought comfort from Aemond many times after Aegon’s drunken attacks. How Helaena would sob in his arms at first, but eventually as time turned, and the abuse did not stop, she turned silent, and instead of sobs, there would be blinks and small words exchanged, until nothing at all. 

Not quite present, not quite absent. 

She was simply there.

“And you know how to drink brother.” 

Aemond’s eye never left Helaena’s shoulder where Aegon’s hand dug roughly into her flesh.

His gaze was a warning, and Aegon heeded it.

Aegon's grip left your aunt, and reached out in show to grab at his goblet, before lifting it to his lips, challenging his brother as he emptied the cup, before thrusting it behind him for a server to come fill it up once more. 

“And you know how to ruin the fun.” Aegon sulked.

The afternoon carried on and he watched as Helaena snatched you up from the table, declaring the both of you would dance, before she dragged you down into the sea of people, celebrating a disastrous marriage.

Even with one eye, even from afar, amongst a sea of dancing and moving people, he could spot you from a mile away. It was not the silver head of hair that gave you away, it was you. The way you smiled, lips pulling apart as your teeth showed to the room, the way your eyes would light up as you grinned and laughed. 

It was the way your skin looked so soft, softer than all present. Like you had been made of silk and velvet, but carved from marble and stone. How he wished to touch you, all of you, to feel the soft skin of your flesh against him, to press you harder against him. 

To press himself harder into you, rutting against you viciously, feeling the tip of his cock meet the end of your cunt, as you curled beneath him.

All those around you looked dull, and common in comparison. 

Plain featured women and men who dared to sometimes grasp his own attention, as if their commonly features would lure him into an allyship, friendship or the warm bed of another. 

A bed that was not yours. 

Watching both you and Helaena smile was addictive. To see you so carefree, so relaxed and happy in his sisters presence, made him wish to be the one to bring you such happiness. Such elation.

And it soured him to know that he would never be able to, despite his efforts.

The stale yellow hair of Jason Lannister flitted into his view, a man who had no doubt, also been bewitched by the Princess. And Aemond watched in anger as the man was drawn to you like a moth to flame, his feet carrying him hurriedly, yet not too hurriedly under the watchful eyes of his wife, as he made his way to you.

When Jason interrupted you and Helaena, Aemond noted that you too looked disgusted and put off by the mans presence, and as the Lannister leant his face towards you, Aemond shot up from his seat, ignoring the sudden watchful gaze of all at the table, most importantly his own mother, who watched him knowingly as he stalked down to where you where.

The bodies parted for Aemond, like a ship parts the rough waves of the sea, and all he could do was set his sight on you, as you desperately glanced at Helaena for an out.

And Aemond would give you one.

“A union of House Targaryen and House Lannister would be a formidable force.” The slimy Lion suggested, and Aemond took a sharp breath through his nose to prevent himself from declaring treason that this man would even dare to think that he was worthy of you, to even be in your presence, let alone warm your bed.

“I'm sure it would be.” You had spoke bluntly, disgusted by the proposal, and Aemond felt pride, “I think I remember my mother telling me of your offer to her when she was-“ 

He stood behind you now, and watched as you moved to turn away, lips open to land the last verbal blow at the man before you, but all halted as you collided with him. The young prince felt the softness of your skin, and smelt the sweet oils in your hair as you lifted your gaze to look into his eye. 

Your face was either flushed from dancing, or flushed from being so close to him. He could not decide. 

But the wild look in your eye, and the way that your lips snapped shut, and your chest rose and fell more rapidly, as though readying yourself for him, gave him all the confirmation he needed. 

Aemond lifted his hand and held it out to you, wishing you would put your small little hand in his so he could dwarf it in size, so that he could hold you and squeeze you, and feel you for once in a way that was not sacrilegious.

Aemond did not bother to take his eye from you, nor did he bother to turn to acknowledge the distasteful man beside him, whose gaze felt warm on the side of Aemond’s face. 

Pestilent cunt.

“Apologies for the interruption My Lord, but my niece had promised me a dance.” 

Aemond delighted in how your face screwed up, in confusion, in anger, in defiance. And as your lips parted to deny him of what he sought out, you were interrupted by the grating voice of the man beside you both.

The pissant Lord of Casterly Rock bowed down to him as a good dog would, and conceded to the Princes uncourtly interruption. 

For a man with so much pride, such arrogance, and little intelligence but the knowledge that money held power, and the Lannisters had plenty, the man simply walked away, submissively back to the arms of his wife, and sulked.

It made Aemond feel powerful, and his cock jumped at-

“I don’t recall promising you a dance, uncle.” You spoke lowly, hoping for the music and voices of others around you to drown out your sour tone. But it didn’t, and Aemond had heard you, and Helaena had disappeared back towards the table, noting his presence with their niece. 

She knew.

Words were exchanged, and he had purred in your ear and felt your body shiver, and watches as your eyes dilated, and lips wet themselves with your tongue.

He had called you ravishing, and you had accepted it. And it was the truth, you were ravishing. You were what all gazed upon that evening, and all that people whispered about. 

The Realm’s Delight had birthed the Realm’s Pleasure.

Pride and jealousy chased themselves in circles around Aemond, as he caught people watch the both of you dance. And how well you had danced, so graceful, so soft and so flowing, like a body of water. 

So perfect for him.

“I expected you to be in green for such an event.” You had snipped, and he had not bothered to give you a response. 

It would not have been dignified. 

He had thought about making a comment about your dress, about the tartiness of it all. Of how you showed far more skin than anyone else in the court, despite being above all else. But he held his tongue in his mouth as it began to feel bitter and sharp.

It would do well to not stir you. He had made a promise to his mother to behave.

Both he and Aegon had.

‘Let them show their depravity to all. Let them be the ones to land the first blow against themselves. Do not give in to their beastly ways.’

But how was he to resist? 

He was a man, and there was your fire. 

It made him want to hit you and kiss you all at once.

And as you slowed to a stop, you had looked up at him and given him a small smile, which he had prayed for all evening to see. A smile in which he had wished for all day, and craved like a man starved. 

For in the Red Keep, Aemond was alone in a desert, walking amongst the sandy hills, heat beating down upon him, and then you had smiled. And it was as if he had tasted the cool, wet of water on his tongue for the first time in years.

Like that smile, such a small one at that, where your lips pulled gently to the side and your cheeks rose, gave him all that was needed to sustain him for life.

“Thank you for the dance, uncle.” 

And he knew then, that he would need it again, and again, and again, lest he succumb to the dry desert wasteland and die.

Aemond watched you courtesy and race away back to the table, where he trailed slowly, watching your hips sway through the crowd of people, who also looked on.

They should have their eyes plucked from their skulls. 

He committed their faces to his memory for this purpose alone.

The young Prince watched you excuse yourself to the garden. And he thought that if he sat at the table, he could resist the urge to chase after you. He had sat back down, his mothers eyes watching him curiously, and the heat of Daemon’s gaze violating his person. 

And he had done such a good job of sitting, he had even pulled his goblet to his lips to sip, before his urges won over, and he stood from the table, excusing himself, to look for you.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut

Bold is who I cannot tag!

[sitp-recs]

hi liv hope you’re well!!! i was wondering if you had a reclist for like wound healing / physical h/c ?? i looked through your masterlists and maybe i just couldn’t see it but ohhh i would love it if you have any recs for me :))) thank you so much have a lovely day xx

Hi anon! Ahh yes some good old whump 👨‍🍳 💋 it’s crazy to think I haven’t done a list for it yet bc this used to be my favourite Starker trope! My memory is not great (especially with long fics) but I think these might work. Oh and if you enjoy Dronarry I highly recommend Let Be, Let Be by @tackytigerfic :)

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[wetcatspellcaster]

BG3/Dragon Age Masterlist!

Hello! My name is Emma :) I write fic under howlsmovinglibrary, and this is where my follows/likes/replies come from as well! (this is my fic sideblog!)

kofi!(💘)

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Completed, 23k, M

DA:O, Zevran/f!Surana, modern university library AU

There was a problem with Nyd Surana’s favourite spot in the library. Someone new had moved in four rows down. Someone insufferable.

[raccoonscity]

Make Me Choose: Favorite Town in RDR2 → Saint Denis (asked by @hereticstations)

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

OT4 (2) Masterlist

part one

a glimmer of hope that was starin’ at me - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) OT4, Michael/Luke T, 7k

Summary: It’s difficult being in a relationship with three guys, and one of them hates you. On their one year anniversary, the four go to a cabin to celebrate. Luke knows that he has to make a decision soon. Things get messy, and then they’re okay again. Happy ending.

Ash is on the floor (ao3) - tinyglitterrose M, 4k

Summary: "Are you hard?", Luke asked bluntly and immediately he had the attention of three australians.

Play it cool, just play if off, Ashton thought to himself, as if he was not panicking right now.

"No? What the fuck, Luke?", he tried to sound arrogant and even rolled his eyes at the blonde, but the other man wasn't having it.

"No, no, you're hard, I saw that", then he giggled, "You have a boner, Ashy, I saw it"

Ashton shook his head violently, but Calum interrupted him before he could object again: "Do you really?"

--- basically an Ashton centered foursome with plot.

A sweet kiss from your strawberry lips (ao3) - livefastdiehung N/R, 1k

Summary: Luke’s lip gloss tastes like strawberries, he wants his boys to know it.

Banding - @daydadahlias​ (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) M, 3k

Summary: “Do you guys ever, like, wanna know what it feels like to get nutted in?”

do it better (ao3) - lourrygum N/R, 8k

Summary: takes place during the time michael lost his passport and was stuck in the US while his band performed in the UK. He feels upset about it and stops answering their calls and may or may not unfollow them on twitter, leading to questions and anxiety.

or, ¾ of 5sos go to the US to see michael and end up fucking him senseless.

Fucking Jerks (ao3) - orphan_account E, 37k

Summary: "Okay, who cums first loses, and owes a blowjob to the winner. Correct?" Calum raises his brows: "A blowjob now, huh?" "Well, a dish fit for a king," Michael replies.

Or: Ashton bids a Jerketition and who is Michael to refuse...? (Includes the winner+loser spin off)

i don't run away when your face says "achoo" - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) T, 2k

Summary: Ashton gets sick, and his boyfriends come to the rescue to take care of him.

i love the way you talk about me (ao3) - orphan_account Calum/Ashton, OT4 N/R, 13k

Summary: “I want you to understand.” Ashton continues. His eyes and voice aren’t gentle anymore. “You’re here to service me. To service us. You are a fuck toy, and nothing more. You do as I say without complaint or hesitation. You know this, calum, and I expect you to behave. If I ask you to jump…” “I ask you how high.” Calum says. His eyes are cast down, his cheeks filled with color. He’s upset Ash, he doesn’t deserve to look at him. “Good. Finally did something right.” Ashton says.

or the one where Calum is a brat to his boyfriend, who decides that he’s going to make Calum sorry via his other two bandmates.

or the one where I hit rock bottom and write Ashton, Michael, and Luke fucking Calum into oblivion.

July (So Happy I Could Cry) (ao3) - valiantnerd (arareads) T, 2k

Summary: Michael's boyfriends are dumb and far too in love with each other. They're also having a picnic.

Kisses For Everyone (ao3) - The_Lady T, 1k

Summary: That blonde boy keeps kissing a bunch of different guys. Hallie’s getting a little worried for his boyfriend.

or ot4 from the pov of a girl who does not know they’re a polycule.

lucky are they (who live unaware) (ao3) - itsafuckingmess T, 7k

Summary: The boys of One Direction may be a little dense sometimes, but they’re no idiots. They know something is up between the boys of the band that tours with them as a supportive act. They just don’t know what yet. | Or, alternatively, 5 times the One Direction boys didn't realise 5 Seconds of Summer were dating and 1 time it was blatantly, inexcusably obvious

makeup isn’t just for girls - @sup3rbloom​ (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) T, 3k

Summary: During Quarantine, Luke takes up nail painting as a hobby. Eventually, he adds makeup too. When he’s with the boys again for tour, he comes clean about his new hobbies. Unfortunately, not all of his boyfriends are supportive.

Sick Day (ao3) - TylerM G, 4k

Summary: The one where Ashton gets sick on the WWA tour and tries to keep it from his band, and fails miserably.

stumble through it all (ao3) - loafers M, 18k

Summary: michael and calum decide not to break up when calum has to move away for school. it's both more complicated and simple than either expected.

the best thing that ever happened (ao3) - citiesbelow E, 4k

Summary: “We were talking the other day and we realized that we pretty much only have any of this because of you,” Luke said, shrugging. “I mean, if you hadn’t decided to stop hating me and ask me to start a band instead, obviously we’d never have made friends, and Cal and I wouldn’t have been friends with each other either, and you were the one who knew Ash and asked him to join the band. And obviously we’ve all thought about that before, we’ve talked about it plenty, but we would never have been able to date each other either if not for you doing all of that back when we were kids, and we wanted to thank you. With sex,” he added, as if the context didn’t make that obvious.

OT4 anniversary sex in which they all spoil Michael as much as they can!

we fuck (and we fight) (ao3) - itsafuckingmess E, 4k

Summary: It's been ten fucking minutes since Ashton finally put his health first and sat in their fucking bed to sleep his cold off and Luke and Calum are already amidst a spat that could easily lead to a heated argument.

And, frankly, it’s been ten minutes and Michael is already losing his temper.

with a feeling i’ll forget, i’m in love now (ao3) - orphan_account M, 2k

Summary: Ashton had never really been nurtured in the way a child should be.

When his father had walked out on them at such a young age, Ashton had to step up and be the man of his house, helping bring in money and helping to raise his two younger siblings. He wasn’t unloved or treated unfairly by his mother, quite the opposite, but she had never had the time to coddle him the way he craved.

or, an Ashton-centric ot4

You look so restless and you’re so far from home (ao3) - antisocialhood E, 5k

Summary: Luke expects drugs at Glastonbury Festival, lots and lots of drugs. He doesn’t expect to get a special behind the scenes tour.

[themculibrary]

Angel/Demon Masterlist

Better the Devil you know (ao3) - Kalee60 steve/bucky E, 19k

Summary: Attending work conferences was never Bucky’s idea of a ‘good time’ - especially when the rival company was Heaven and he happened to be a demon from Hell. Even more unbearable, he’d been tasked to present a seminar (against his will) - Bucky was more about doling out punishments, less about educating his peers.

So of course, while Bucky is already down, Steve Rogers turns up, an angel Bucky had been trying desperately to forget for the last millenia… for an array of reasons.

Bucky now finds himself in close quarters with his feathery nemesis, and after living multiple lifetimes, was maybe finally learning that there really was a fine line between hate and lust, and an even finer one tethering it all to love?

Co-workers (ao3) - PeppaTheePig loki/mobius E, 1k

Summary: Mobius is an angel who is forced to work with a Jotun demon named Loki. They don't get along, until they do.

evensong (ao3) - MCU_Dagger, Palmarion loki/sylvie T, 7k

Summary: Loki is an angel. Sylvie is a demon.

They come together in fits and starts.

Falling for You (ao3) - AgentOfShip leo/jemma G, 1k

Summary: Fitz is an angel who's a little too wicked for heaven and Jemma's a fallen angel who's too good for hell. Maybe they were meant to be.

Falling Like Ashes (ao3) - Kellyscams steve/bucky E, 11k

Summary: Steve is an Angel. An Angel with a very specific duty.

Bucky in a Demon. A Demon with a very specific duty.

They’re not meant to be.

Maybe someone should explain the rules to them a little better.

Gentle Sins (ao3) - firefly_flickers matt/foggy E, 1k

Summary: Foggy’s a high ranking Angel. Matt’s a demon. Neither likes to stay on their side of the divide.

Gifted (ao3) - MercuryCeleste steve/tony T, 25k

Summary: Every year, Angels and Demons compete for the fate of 'chosen’, the human beings that are destined for rebirth. Whoever wins seals the fate of the future angel or demon. Steve has signed his name up for years, only to be turned down but this year proves different. Tony is a successful demon who has to face his calling but finds that’s not as terrible as he thought.

Inferno (ao3) - DarklingDarling loki/steve E, 7k

Summary: For the King of Hell, life is surprisingly boring, it's all just work and no play...

Until one day, when a sweet little Angel by the name of Loki sneaks into Hell and falls right into his waiting hands.

My oh my, what is a lonely Demon to do?

Keep Thee In All Thy Ways (ao3) - ElisabethMonroe sam/bucky M, 2k

Summary: Bucky was just about thrumming out of his skin. Not entirely figuratively.

Sam, beside him, was much more composed. But there was a ready grin on his mouth that he usually kept a little more hidden. All the promises in that grin were not helping Bucky keep himself contained. They sought these events out like a challenge, chances to be their true selves without attracting too much attention. Or, at least, the bad kind of attention. Krampus celebrations and monster conventions and horror movie events all kept them sated throughout the year, but Halloween and haunted houses were easiest. And parties like these were Bucky’s favorite.

“Can we?” he asked.

Sam nodded his permission.

Love and Sins (ao3) - Reioka steve/tony T, 1k

Summary: It's not often that Steve gets the opportunity to meet his busy lover.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker (ao3) - The_Alias (Artemis_Day) jane/loki T, 2k

Summary: Darcy Lewis may not be the best love goddess in the world, but she is the most determined.

Through Hell and High Water (ao3) - MelayneSeahawk steve/tony M, 4k

Summary: “I’m not sure anyone’s noticed, to be honest,” Katriel said, with a shiftiness to his expression that the Serpent found terribly appealing despite himself. “I guess I can say I’ve lost it, if anyone asks.”

“You are one strange angel,” Stark said, grinning broadly, and the angel grimaced. “How in Heaven did you wind up with this job?”

to be good for you (would be the end of me) (ao3) - sambambucky sam/bucky T, 5k

Summary: Bucky tempts Steve Rogers and his friends to act with selfishness and fear, impulsivity and anger, and it’s easy, satisfying work. Then the punk finds himself a guardian angel.

Toxic Love (ao3) - orphan_account erik/t'challa E, 1k

Summary: Nah baby, who do you belong to?" The demon spoke low into the now fallen angel's ear. T'Challa gasped, blinking tears, all he could do was moan.

"The devil."

When I Run Out of Road, You Bring Me Home (ao3) - Summer_Sunflower steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: It's a pain in his back that refuses to go away, no matter what he does or tries. He doesn't think he can handle it much longer.

Bucky thinks he should have come earlier.

Wing Me Back (ao3) - buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle) steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: Steve Rogers has always looked like a member of the heavenly host, while Bucky Barnes is firmly earthbound. Despite being opposites, they’re best friends, two men who love and protect each other at all costs. As far as he’s concerned, Steve’s an angel, but Bucky wrestles with demons every day. At night, he’s haunted. Thankfully, the flutter of wings soothes his soul and keeps him safe.

[ear-worthy]

Spectacular Failures: A Podcast That Declared Victory About Defeat

In June 2019, a business podcast was released by APM Studios that defied convention.

Why? Because business podcasts that celebrate success are as numerous as the pixels on a 4K television. Inspirational stories about Jobs, Gates, other quasi-demented tech startup wizards appear like pop-up ads on podcasts earnestly attempting to revel in the success of others.

The message is clear to aspiring entrepreneurs” “You can be like them.”

On June 17, 2019, this new podcast appeared on the business landscape.

It was different, maybe even blasphemous.

The new podcast focused on failure.

And not just run-of-the-mill failures like Gymboree, Things Remembered or Payless.

These were colossal failures. The defeats that people talked about for years. The failures in which even casual observers said, “What were they thinking?”

That new business podcast, was, of course, the Spectacular Failures podcast.

In its words, here’s how the podcast self-described: “Host Lauren Ober tackles some of the most spectacular business failures of all time, and what could have been done to avoid them. Some of these stories are shocking. Some are funny. Some are just downright sad. But each one will give you a totally new perspective on big business… and big failure. “

“Business successes can certainly teach budding entrepreneurs what to do,” begins business expert Clay Burton. “And business failures can also teach aspirants what not to do.”

Origin story

The podcast was sponsored by the prestigious Carlson School of Management at the University of Minnesota and is produced by American Public Media (APM).

At the time, APM produced a host of well-known programs and podcasts including BBC America, Marketplace program and podcasts such as Decomposed (about classical music and its impact on society), The Splendid Table about food culture, The Uncertain Hour about origin stories and a growing roster of other well-crafted podcasts.

In June 2019, Spectacular Failures broadcast its first episode about the failed amusement park of former tel-evangelists Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker. Heritage USA was built by the Bakkers’ PTL Club in York County, South Carolina. The concept was a Christian-themed amusement park with the King’s Castle as its centerpiece. Opened in 1978, the park attracted more than six million visitors a year at its peak and employed about 13,000 people. By 1986, a high-profile sex scandal, tax violations, financial malfeasance and wild overspending had driven out the Bakkers and tel-evangelist Jerry Falwell took over the park. By late 1989, the park was closed due to bankruptcy and remained in ruins until 2013 when it was purchased by real estate developers.

“There are plenty of business failures in our economy every year,” begins business expert Clay Burton, “but I think Spectacular Failures does an excellent job finding those failures that relate a morality tale of how these business failures violated key basic rules of business success such as customer focus, a willingness to adapt to changing market conditions and prioritizing quality over profit.”

Burton points to the episode about Schlitz Beer and how its drive to put cost-cutting and profits ahead of delivering a quality product ultimately alienated loyal drinkers.

The next episode about MoviePass and its clumsy and often-comical attempt to upend the purchase process in the movie theater industry led to angry customers, massive losses and a founder with a propensity for self-denial. Interestingly, however, out of the ashes of MoviePass and its subscription-type model for movie attendance, large movie theater chains like AMC (AMC Monthly Pass) and Regal (Regal Unlimited) have developed and marketed their own subscription model with sustainable pricing and simpler terms of service.

Style and substance

Spectacular Failures didn’t just abandon the familiar playbook for business podcasts — earnest, sober and pedantic — it unearthed a quirky tone that seamlessly switches between being hilarious and whimsical. And that playful mood emanated from host Lauren Ober, who easily navigates the serious with the silly. Ober’s resume includes hosting and producing WAMU & NPR’s The Big Listen. Before hosting, Lauren was an award-winning public radio reporter, producing stories for outlets like NPR, 99% Invisible and Criminal. Ober once won a regional Emmy and is a graduate of the Transom Story Workshop, Syracuse University and American University.

In the episode about the largest funeral home consolidator you’ve never heard of called the Loewen Group, Ober detailed how the hubris of Ray Loewen ultimately upset the industry and its customers, culminating in the group’s loss in court against a Mississippi funeral home owner who won a $500 million lawsuit. In the episode, Ober highlighted her grandmother on her father’s side who was so comfortable with the concept of death that she was considered “a professional funeral goer.” Ober’s Dad was interviewed and describes the unique wish of the grandmother to be laid out at the viewing in a particular nightgown. Ober then knitted her grandmother to the bankruptcy of the Loewen Group by describing how “Grandma Ober” had paid for entire funeral expense in advance and how people felt a community closeness to the local funeral home and not to some corporate giant trying to slash services to make its “roll-up” strategy successful.

A Kodak Moment

One of the most fascinating episodes from a business strategy perspective had to be the long and painful decline of one of America’s iconic companies — Kodak. Host Ober and her team gave us the long-time employee perspective of how the company splashed around in the shark-infested waters of technological change before finally drowning in denial, missteps and missed opportunities.

The Kodak episode brings up the essential question for any dominant business. Do you stick with your profitable product or service despite the fact it is being supplanted by innovation, or do you move away from your historical cash machine and step into the uncertain domain of new markets replete with uncertainty, lower profitability and questionable customer acceptance?

Spectacular Failures deftly presented listeners with the ultimate business irony. While Kodak’s film business was shrinking, the company did pioneer new digital photography innovations. Despite its technological progress, the company could never abandon the security blanket of film’s profitability and largely ceded the digital market to competitors that eventually resulted in Kodak’s demise.

Three of a kind trumps two pair

The last episode of season one was undoubtedly its most difficult.

The episode was about Donald Trump’s multiple failures in the Atlantic City casino market. In such a polarized political environment, Spectacular Failures and Ober deftly thread the needle by focusing on Trump’s cascading gaffes in Atlantic City, ranging from the construction of the decadently ornate Taj Mahal casino and Trump’s cannibalization of his business by owning four casinos in the same market.

The podcast detailed the intercession of Trump parent Fred in an illegal bailout of his son that was ultimately caught and fined by the state’s Casino Gaming Commission. As Trump endured multiple bankruptcies, the podcast rightly notes that Trump himself had very little at stake financially and the real losers were banks, investors, vendors and consumers.

Season two and beyond

After the success of season one, Spectacular Failures produced a season two that was released in August 2020 and ended in October. Episodes of note included fast-fashion retailer, Forever 21, Countrywide Financial, and Pan Am. The podcast was hitting its stride.

Then Spectacular Failures disappeared. But the show’s episodes are worth your ear time, despite the podcast no longer actively producing episodes.

Listen to Spectacular Failures, seasons one and two, here.

[mcbastardsmausoleum]

On February 7, 2023, Scream Factory will bring the cult favorite Bubba Ho-Tep to 4K Ultra HD for the first time as a collector’s edition 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray release loaded with extras!

“A significant piece of American cinema” Nick Digilio - WGN Chicago

“Bruce Campbell…in a performance for the ages” The Hollywood Reporter

Bubba Ho-Tep

The Shady Rest retirement home is about to get all shook up with a new resident: a broken-down and eccentric old geezer claiming to be the King of Rock’N’Roll himself! On February 7, 2023, Scream Factory will bring this cult favorite to 4K UHD for the first time as a collector’s edition 4K UHD+Blu-ray release loaded with extras.

Written and directed by Don Coscarelli and based on the Bram Stoker Award-nominated short story by author Joe R. Lansdale, Bubba Ho-Tep stars cult icon Bruce Campbell (Army of Darkness, Ash vs. Evil Dead) as “Elvis”, the late, great Ossie Davis (Grumpy Old Men, Do The Right Thing) as John “Jack” Kennedy, Ella Joyce (Set It Off, Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot), Heidi Marnhout (Phantasm IV: Oblivion) and Bob Ivy (John Dies At the End, Near Dark). When mysterious deaths plague a Texas retirement home, it's up to its most sequined senior citizen to take on a 4,000-year-old Egyptian mummy with a penchant for cowboy boots, bathroom graffiti and sucking the souls from the barely living.

This collector’s edition features a bevy of bonus features, including a new 4K scan of the film, previously unreleased featurettes from the director’s archives, and much more! Fans can pre-order their copies now by visiting ShoutFactory.com

Special Features: 

4K UHD:

- NEW 4K scan from the original camera negative

- Audio Commentary with writer/director Don Coscarelli and actor Bruce Campbell

- Audio Commentary with author Joe R. Lansdale

- Audio Commentary with “The King”

AUDIO:

- DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, 2.0

BLU-RAY

- NEW 4K scan from the original camera negative

- Previously unreleased featurette: Bubba Ho-Tep Filming Locations Then and Now

- Previously unreleased featurette: Bubba Ho-Tep Egyptian Theatre Premiere

- Previously unreleased featurette: Bubba Ho-Tep at the Toronto Film Festival

-  Audio Commentary with director Don Coscarelli and actor Bruce Campbell

-  Audio Commentary with author Joe R. Lansdale

- Audio Commentary with “The King”

- The King Lives – an interview with Bruce Campbell

- All is Well – an interview with Don Coscarelli

- Mummies and Makeup – an interview with makeup effects artist Robert Kurtzman

- The Making of BUBBA HO-TEP

- To Make A Mummy – Makeup and Effects

- Fit for A King – Elvis Costuming

- Rock Like An Egyptian – How celebrated composer Brian Tyler created the stunning score

- Bubba Ho-tep – the music video

- Joe R. Lansdale reads Bubba Ho-Tep

- Deleted scenes with optional audio commentary with Don Coscarelli and Bruce Campbell

- Footage from the Temple Room Floor

- Archival Bruce Campbell interviews

- Music Video

- Theatrical Trailer

-  TV Spot

- Photo Gallery

AUDIO:

- DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, 2.0