#my english feels terrible today

[stormyoceans]

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GVRah2PaEAARGRc?format=jpg&name=900x900

It looks too far-fetched, but...The Godfather: the story begins with betrayal.Forrest Gump: a love story that began in childhood is ending.

NOT ME COMPLETELY MISSING THE TWO GIANT ASS MOVIE POSTERS HANGING ON THE WALL EVEN AFTER TAKING SO MANY SCREENSHOTS OF THIS SCENE IM ✋😭 i blame the vice versa brainrot for this............

honestly i don't think your analysis is too far-fetched like if it were another show maybe i would say that the choice of movies was made without much thought behind it, but so far the trainee has put a lot of care and attention to the props and colors it's using to help the narrative along, so i doubt the posters don't hold some kind of meaning

i feel like i would need to rewatch both movies before trying to do a proper analysis because it's been ages since i last saw them, but there's definitely something that could be said about the way these two very different stories treat love and how that applies to tae and bahmee's relationship: in the godfather, love is deeply connected with betrayal and suffering and grief, and the moment you forsaken the love for your family and your partner for the love of power you end up alone, while in forrest gump the love and acceptance forrest and jenny give each other from an early age is, in its kind, the only one they get to know

idk i wonder if these movies work as a sort of warnings for both tae and bahmee: do not forsaken love for something else, but while the love you've known when you were younger will always be important, maybe it's not the right one for you

(kinda terrified that they're gonna go with the 'at the end jenny realizes forrest is the only man who ever loved and treated her right' interpretation instead but let's not go there)

[little-flame-prince]

nodding along with a post and then halfway through it gets weird and confusing and realizing "oh! this was written through a culturally christian lens that i am fundamentally incapable of comprehending due to my background! no wonder i no longer know what the fuck OP is talking about"

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

I think people watch those things as punishment because they don't have the means, time, extra money, etc, to do anything meaningful to help. So at least they can acknowledge and bear witness to the horror, even if they're not able to actually help.

right but like. "at least they can do this" makes it sound like doing that is actually materially useful, and i'm not convinced it is. i think in many cases it is only increasing the number of people suffering in the world. i agree that people are doing it because they feel powerless in other regards but in the majority of cases i think it's harming more than helping

[vraska-theunseen]

aughhhh. aughhhhhjhhhh

[crescentmp3]

so what you are telling me is its that bad.

[coquelicoq]

one specific thing that i'd like to get better at w/r/t crossword theme generation is identifying not just words that contain a specific set of letters but phrases that contain a specific set of letters. for instance. i'm working on a theme right now in which types of shoes are going to be hidden within the long answers. for some, there are longer single words that contain those letters (e.g., toolBOOTh, MOCha, conFLATe), but for others i'm going to have to go over a word boundary, which takes me out of the territory of Things That Can Eventually Be Found If You Read The Dictionary For Long Enough (my usual strategy lol). the problem is i have absolutely no idea how to get better at this. but in good news, today i came up with both "muscle atrophy" and "oracle at delphi" for "cleat" and "warts and all" for "sandal" almost right away. so...i just need to keep doing that? somehow? how are other constructors doing this all the time??

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

[sexykwan]

going to make a little post hehe

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Your Teddy - Theodore Nott x f!reader (Drabble)

Requested: No

Pairing: Theodore Nott x f!reader

Summary: Theo has only felt pain ever since y/n was kidnapped by Death Eaters, but her return might even be just as painful.

Word count: 811

Warnings: slight mentions of torture; English is not my first language

A/N: I will post the second part on Friday, let me know if you want to be tagged! This is my first time writing for Theo and it's rushed, so I hope it's still alright. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan

Ignoring the people around him and their confused looks, Theo ran through the corridors, with only four words in his mind - we found miss y/n.  

He had spent three months, three months waiting for her to come back, for her to give him any sign, for her to come back to him, for his whole body and mind to function normally again. It had been three months since y/n had disappeared, captured by Death Eaters one week before winter break. The image of her, defenseless and screaming as she was being tortured had been plaguing Theo ever since, and he hadn’t been able to think of anything else other than he didn't know where y/n was, if she was even alive or not, and what kind of atrocities she was facing. He had completely stopped going to class, stopped going to the Great Hall for meals - despite how many times his friends had asked him to come, saying y/n wouldn’t want him to be like that -, staying in his dorm instead, where even despite the constant closed shutters, he couldn’t even sleep, as he had terrible nightmares of y/n screaming for him as she was being tortured every time he tried to sleep. 

He had tried to look for her, of course. How could he not? But old Dumbledore had anticipated it, and had ordonned him to not leave the castle without a teacher. The first few weeks, Theo had been going almost every day to Dumbledore’s office, asking if there was new information about where y/n was, and he always got the same answer. I’m sorry to tell you that we do not. But trust, Mr Nott, that we are actively looking for her and that I am sure that we will find her. At the beginning, Theo had somehow managed to control his anger and frustration, but at one point, he had screamed at the headmaster, saying that it wasn’t enough, that no one could understand what it was like, and even had broken a few items. 

But, today, Professor Snape had knocked on his door, saying the four words Theo had been dreaming to hear. And now here he was, running to the hospital wing. He only slowed down when he arrived by its door, and, still breathless from the running, immediately opened the door, and then rushed inside to the only bed that was currently occupied. 

“y/n!”

“Mr. Nott, please don’t-”

But Theo ignored Mrs Pomfrey’s words and walked past her, instead going to sit on the bed and hugging y/n’s body as hard as he could. Mrs Pomfrey continued to protest and ask him to stop, but he couldn’t care less. All that mattered was here, in his arms. He gently stroked her hair, feeling his eyes burn with tears. All the pain, stress, fear and anger that he had felt from the moment he learned that she had disappeared faded away, replaced with her warmth presence and the feeling that fucking finally, she was safe, safe in his arms like she was supposed to be. 

“Cazzo, y/n, baby. I missed you so much.” 

You’re here. You’re here. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. 

He slightly detached himself from her but only to kiss her forehead and look at her, look at the face and eyes he had fallen so hard in love with. But instead of looking at him with warm eyes full of love like she always did, there was only confusion - which was also shown in her frowning - and that was the moment he realized she didn’t hug him back, or even touched him at all. 

“Um, I…I’m sorry, but…who are you?” 

If Theo thought he had known pain every second of y/n’s absence, that was nothing compared to the heartbreak her words caused throughout his whole body and mind. He was now also confused, and his arms dropped from her by themselves. 

“y/n…It’s me…Teddy.”

Your Teddy. 

“You…” He had never struggled to find his words so much before. “You don’t recognize me?”

y/n opened her mouth to answer, apparently embarrassed and turned to the matron for help. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nott, but Miss y/l/n lost all her memories. Professor Dumbledore and I are still trying to figure out why, and how to bring her memory back,” she said with a kind voice, before turning to y/n and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Miss y/l/n, this is Theodore Nott, your boyfriend.” 

No! Not Theodore, not Theo, fucking damn it. It’s Teddy for her. For her and nobody else. Teddy. 

Her Teddy.

y/n nodded and looked at Theo.

“I’m sorry for not remembering you. I can’t remember anything, really.”

Theo rose from the bed. 

“No, I’m sorry.”

Not wanting for an answer, he turned around and left the hospital’s wing, feeling more broken than when he entered it.

PART 2

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[stormyoceans]

i hope oon and may fuck and that's what ends up waking ob-oom up in true not me style because i simply think that sapphics, too, deserve to have the magical link between twins saving one of them through the power of gay sex

[lovemomhatepolice]

a tiny accident(s) - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

warnings: nose injury, blood, established relationship, drinking alcohol (lando), suggestive talks, nothing more, just lando being stupidly drunk lover, English is my second language!

type: fluff (a little bit suggestive)

word count: 2k

summary: when you feel unwell, but let your boyfriend alone at a party in Amsterdam, you definitely don’t think about what the consequences might be…

This wasn't the first time you've had a headache this week. It definitely wasn't. You had been plagued by terrible migraines for a long time, caused by stress and long-term travel from country to country. It was hard to switch from the Chinese air to that of the Netherlands, and you still had to travel to Miami, Italy and back to Monaco. All this in the span of one month. But what can you do? You were well aware of this when you met him and entered into a relationship with Lando. Travel, travel and more travel.

And so it was today, too. You and Lando arrived moments earlier in Amsterdam after racing in China and immediately got an invitation to a party. Oh, you knew very well how much Lando wanted to go there, so from the beginning you both assumed you were going and would have a great time. Well, unfortunately, fate willed that just today, an hour before the party you were attacked by a severe migraine relapse. Of course Lando wanted to stay with you - he always offers to do so, but you didn't have the heart to stop him and not let him go to the party, especially since you knew very well what helps you best with such ailments. Silence - and it definitely wouldn't have been there if the boy had stayed with you.

It wasn't long after he left that you totally drifted off and fell asleep on your apartment bed, wrapped in every possible layer with a cold cloth on your head. It wasn't long until you were roused from your slumber by the sound of the phone, which, despite your fondest dreams, didn't stop ringing after one time. “Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath, averting your eyes. You took the wet cloth off your forehead and put it down on the nightstand so as not to get the bed wet. You stretched slightly and grabbed your phone, which was vibrating on the nightstand. You unplugged it from the charger and, without even checking who was calling, you put it to your ear, waiting for the voice of the caller. “Hello?” You heard on the other end. It didn't take you long to figure out who the person banging on your phone was. “[Y.N], do you, do you hear me?”

“Um, yeah, yeah. Lando, is something wrong?” You asked slightly worried, recognizing well that the boy was already quite drunk.

You glanced at watch, which hung on the wall in front of you, and could see that it had been more than four hours since he had left, and it was beginning to get dark outside.

“I think I broke my nose.” He said, and you heard him snort softly through his nose. “Baby, what?” You asked, lifting yourself up on your shoulders.

You freed yourself from the quilt that enveloped you and got up on your feet. Now you didn't feel the earlier headache at all, only worry about the boy, who was somewhere in the middle of the Netherlands, drunk and with a supposedly broken nose.

“I think I broke my nose. I smashed it against broken glass.” He exclaimed in pain, and you could already imagine his glazed eyes.

“And do you know where you are now?” You asked, grabbing his car keys and jacket, which you quickly put on and left the room.

“Not very, but I'd like to eat cookies.” He cried out, speaking to you in a pleading voice.

“Excuse me?” You asked, placing the phone on your shoulder and putting your ear to it.

“Cookies. Please,” he muttered, at which you took a deep breath.

“Okay, we'll buy cookies, but tell me where you are.” You replied, shaking your head as you entered the elevator and chose the lowest floor, where the garages were.

“No, we won't buy. We'll make them” He replied, and you could imagine the grimace on his face. “Okay, we'll make them. Will you give me someone on the phone to tell me where you are?” You asked, and didn't have to wait long for an answer.

A good friend of Lando's, who seemed much more sober than your boyfriend, spoke into the phone and gave you the right location to come to. You quickly got into his car and merged into Amsterdam's traffic. It wasn't the first time you had driven his car, but you were definitely not a fan of being a driver. Mostly it was Lando who drove you everywhere and you felt damn safe with him in those cars. On your own, however, you preferred your calmer and rather larger car, which stayed in Monaco.

The road to the place where the party ship Lando was on was not very long. Especially since the navigation guided you with avoiding all the traffic jams that were associated with King's Day. As soon as you got there, you parked the car in a safe place and got out, searching with your eyes for your injured boyfriend.

Minutes later, you couldn't stand to laugh when you saw Lando sitting on the curb, half of his face wrapped in some kind of bandage, and there was an unnecessary crowd around him, through which you quickly made your way.

“Baby!” He muttered, rising abruptly to his feet, which made him wobble and catch the brick wall behind him.

“Lando, sunshine, what happened to you?” You asked, giggling under your breath, because his condition was pretty funny after all.

“I broke my nose!” He replied, stamping his foot. “Well, look.”

You heard, and just a second later the boy was in front of you, grabbing you firmly around the waist and directing your hand to his bandage. You carefully touched the material and twisted it to the side, being careful not to injure the boy.

“Lando silly, you don't have a broken nose. You scared me.” You replied, covering back his nose, which was not broken at all, but only slightly cut.

“Oh, but you don't know how it hurts me!” He howled, hugging your body to his. “Your hair smells nice.”

You laughed under your breath and, after extricating yourself from his grasp, grabbed his hand and led him out of the crowd. After all, he wasn't as drunk as you thought, so the way to the car wasn't long. Worse was convincing him to sit in the seat and not move too much so you could buckle him in.

“Lando, damn it, can you stop squirming like that? You're not going to drive without a seat belt!” You said, slightly resigned, when once again the boy evaded your touch.

“I like the way your hands go down there…” He muttered, guiding your hands closer to his crotch.

“Idiot,” you muttered, giggling under your breath, to which he also giggled and finally let himself be clasped.

The road to the apartment was quite quiet. You were stuck in traffic for a while, because this time it was not possible to get around them so agile. Lando, meanwhile, turned on the music on his radio and the two of you played a song together.

"You know what?" You heard it out of his mouth, and you gently nodded your head, not taking your eyes off the road.

"I'm listening to you," you asked.

"You're pretty sweet," he said, giggling under his nose.

"Well, thank you?" You asked, smiling at yourself.

"But you're also fucking sexy, my God! If you're driving my car, it's in my pants." he said giggling under his nose again.

Whoever knew Lando knew his giggle. At every possible opportunity, Norris giggled like teenage girls who were excited or ashamed. And no matter how long it's been since you two met, Lando still blushed and giggled a lot whenever he got the chance. So he did it all the time.

Of course, the boy did not miss the topic of cookies, for which he had fought so hard before, so your journey to the mixing room was lengthened by a twenty-minute stop in the store, even though you needed a maximum of seven ingredients for your joint baking. Lando could not pass indifferently by the cookie decorations zone (although you did not need them at all) or by the liquor shelf (although he constantly assured that he did not drink anything).

And finally, after all the pain you went through together (or rather you went through), you reached the apartment you had rented for this stay. Both of you laughing, and Lando also, still covered in blood, you headed to the toilet to clean yourself up. There were some splashes of water and quick kisses, which now seemed quite difficult due to his wound.

You quickly went to the closet to take out some looser pants for the boy and returned to the toilet, where he was sitting on the bathtub, waiting for you to fix him better than they did on the ship.

“Oh, my poor little boy,” you muttered, laughing to yourself as you stood between his legs and grabbed some hydrogen peroxide from the medicine cabinet.

“It's not funny [Y/N]” he said, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"Of course it is. How the hell could you smash your nose on a glass bottle?" You asked in disbelief, shaking your head, although after so many years with your boyfriend, this question should have been rather redundant.

"You're laughing at me. And I'm suffering here." He muttered, hissing under his breath when the wound was already quite disinfected and you put a small plaster on it so that he wouldn't touch it.

Sometimes he was worse than a child, but that was what you loved about him the most. You were both still young after all, why would you mature and become serious so quickly?

Soon you started making chocolate cookies. You knew very well that when Lando made something up, there was no way you could just ignore it and pretend it didn't happen. Oh no. Even if it was the middle of the night, you both would have to jump to your feet and run to the store to get something ready. Or suddenly get up and go out of town to watch the stars at night. That was Lando. And so were you. Damn stupid, head over heels in love with each other.

Baking with Lando was always fun. And baking cookies with Lando after midnight when he was drunk? Even funnier. You spilled the flour here, half a pack of cookie chocolates suddenly disappeared - Lando promised on his life that he didn't eat them - and somewhere in between you almost broke the blender. But in the end, you both looked with a smile at the chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven, maybe not perfect, but with some heart in them.

"I can't wait to try them!" the boy said excitedly as you took them out of the oven.

Without waiting for you, Lando put them on a plate and carried them to the table in the living room. Sam sat down on the couch and waited until you joined him.

"Lando, be careful, they're hot-" you started to say, but you were interrupted by the boy's loud hissing, which made you burst into laughter. "Oh my god, you're going to kill yourself."

You hugged him your body, and the boy quickly placed his head in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses on it. He lifted his head up and stuck out his tongue at you, which he had burned himself on a moment earlier.

"Oh my god, did you burn yourself? Should I kiss you there?" You asked, laughing to yourself again at the boy's eager nod. "Oh, Lando..."

A/N: quiet short, but I hope that for the first time you will like it and accept it well :) i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

lando nswf alphabet the latest one-shot about lando

[bontentrio]

SAFE PLACE

yunho x gn reader

summary: after a tiring day you found yourself being comforted by the warmth of your boyfriend while he played video games.

tw: fluff maaaybe some angst but not really (+ spelling mistakes probably, english is not my first language)

based on this video of yunho looking very boyfriend (i screamed very loudly and cried a little)

the weather kind of reflected how you were feeling: grey, and on the verge of tears. the weight of your horrible day rested on your shoulders, and each step you took towards your home was more dreadful than the last. not only did your feet hurt from the new shoes you were wearing, but also your head, you had a terrible headache.

your day actually did not start as bad as it ended, you woke up in time and got dressed for work in a nice outfit. nice outfit = nice day, right? oh how wrong you were. as soon as you got to the office, you accidentally spilled your coffee cup on your nice outfit after bumping against one of the desks by accident. your white shirt immediately ruined despite trying to wipe the stain off with some wipes.

later on that day, your boss scolded you for apparently handling some documents poorly. thing is, when you asked to see said documents, you realized they weren’t even yours to begin with. so you tried telling that to your boss, and you could tell he realized his mistake but obviously did not care enough to apologize. he just sighed and left, probably on his way to scold the right person for the poor management.

on your way home, you missed the train. and on top of that it started raining slightly, but you did not have your umbrella because, surprise! you forgot it at the office. thankfully once you got on the next train, it stopped raining. the weather still looked awful though, and it seemed like it would continue raining later.

thankfully the day was over. you entered your apartment and dropped everything by the door, not bothering enough to put everything into the right place.

“i said go right! no! my right! why would i say your right when its filled with enemies, are you dumb?” you suddenly heard your boyfriend yell. “see, now we are dead and our teammates suck so they won’t be able to revive us”.

you walked towards the living room, and found yunho facing the tv with his spider man custom controller in his hands. he immediately noticed your presence, said something along the lines of “be right back, keep watch” and stood up to greet you.

“hi baby, how are you?” he asked, kissing you. “i prepared your favorite food earlier today, it’s in the fridge, just heat it up whenever you feel like it”.

you didn’t say anything in response, just hugged him tightly, trying to contain the tears from spilling out. you didn’t realize how exhausted you actually were from your horrible day, how much you needed yunho to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay.

“hey, hey y/n, you okay?” he asked, lifting up your head to face him. he brushed your cheeks with his thumbs and stared into your eyes worridly. some tears spilled out, but you couldn’t mutter a single word, just shook your head in order to say “no”. yunho didn’t need anything else, he understood you didn’t want to talk about it. at least not right now. “how about a shower first? does that sound right?” he asked, before kissing your forehead. you nodded.

he quickly went back to his place at the sofa and told his friend he needed to leave momentarily and will be back later. then he took your hand and lead you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet seat while he prepared the hot shower for you. “come here, love” he said, extending his hand for you to take. yunho proceeded to undress you, taking notice of the brown stain on your shirt in the process. once you were done, you got in the shower and noticed that the temperature of the water was perfect.

“i’ll do the laundry and wait for you in the living room” yunho said while taking your work clothes in his hands.

———

you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit better after the shower. you got dressed in your pj shorts and stole one of yunho’s many hoodies, putting it on and staring at yourself in the mirror. you noticed the big eyebags, evidence of how exhausted you were from the day and from work itself.

you found yunho back in his spot on the sofa, controller still in hand, but now speaking calmly. when he caught your eyes, he smiled and extended his hand for you to take, again. this time, you were able to smile back. “better?” he asked, and you nodded. he took your hand and brought you towards him, sitting you on his lap. you immediately wrapped your legs and arms around him, caging him and allowing your head to rest on the spot between his shoulder and neck. you inhaled his scent, and slowly felt all your worries slipping away.

yunho’s arms were around you, controller still in his hands. at some point, you weren’t quite sure when, you heard him say goodbye to his friend and that he was going to play another game solo mode. he proceeded to hold you tighter, properly this time since he left momentarily the controller besides him. “everything will be okay, you will be okay” he whispered to your ear, kissing you lightly on the side of your head.

you don’t know when, but between the soft tapping of the rain against the windows and the low humming coming from yunho, you finally drifted to sleep.

you will be okay, as long as yunho was there to kiss your tears away and be your safe place from dark days.

[musashi]

aai2's english translation has done an amazing thing in furthering franziska's juvenile tendency to address people she's close with like she's a child.

here are some facts about franziska:

she addresses nearly every single person she meets aggressively formally and professionally. firstname lastname. sometimes, mr. or ms. firstname lastname. other characters point this out. it's weird, clunky, and a quirk specific to her.

franziska is obsessed with appearing more grown up and professional than she is.

despite her dedication to this facade, she cannot break the INCREDIBLY JUVENILE habit of calling her murderous, long-dead father "papa."

(it pisses me off when people erase this about her. she only ever calls him "my father," twice in canon. he is almost ALWAYS "papa")

to the contrary, franziska does not seem ashamed/embarrassed about this tendency at all, even though she seems very embarrassed about other childlike things she thinks/feels/does.

until aai2 this was exclusive to manfred... but it is now canon that she does it to anyone she considers family, or close to family.

in the fan translation, blaise teases her about being a little girl and calling him "unky boo boo" once upon a time. in the official translation, franziska still calls him uncle in the present day. her first inclination is to call him uncle winner, wholly informal, absolute (pun) whiplash.

okay, cute, but probably not worth noting... AND THEN SHE'S OUT HERE CALLING HILDA "GRAMMA" AS WELL. one thing about me is that when i was TODAY i learned about her having some optional dialogue that alludes to the two of them knowing each other.

(i could go ON about how manfred must have loved her so much more than we see in canon--how often did she insist upon coming along with hm? how often did he find himself unable to say no to her big sparkling eyes? hilda does not say "that's franziska" hilda says "that's von karma's little girl!" which means hilda knows her through manfred. every single person who spent any amount of time around manfred von karma in his heyday knows franziska, which means that she was following her papa around like a little duckling, and he loved her enough to make space for her at his back)

my fave thing they do with franziska is the little hints that her facade is just that. too many of them spoil the subtlety, of course, but they are there--the flavour text about her shaking and looking scared the two times she's a victim of gun violence and thinks no one's looking. the hints here and there that she has a terrible sweet tooth she's trying to control. the meltdown at the end of JFA. and "papa." these are all little ways that the writing nudges us and says franziska is a professional, but she's also quite young, and never really let herself be a kid. she does a great job at hiding most of it, but these little tendencies leak out here and there.

by giving her two more people in life she does this to, it's no longer just that papa is Special Enough that he gets the same treatment from a 3 year old franziska as a 30 year old franziska. no, she does that to everyone she grew up looking up to, any odd work friend that manfred brought around or let her pester.

adorable. absolutely adorable.

[fleming-o]

new beginnings barca fem x teen reader

(i say barca but its kinda mostly alexia)

new home is always hard to get used to

HOMESICK AT ITS FINEST

also I can't write for my life so if this went in many directions than just one I'm sorry (heh one direction)

Moving houses was one thing, but moving across the world? That was something else entirely.

All my belongings were packed away, my house back home was empty, and every familiar wall and cozy corner was now just a memory. The thought of leaving my old life behind felt thrilling at first, but now? Now it just felt like a hollow ache.

Barcelona was beautiful, yes, but it didn’t feel like home. The narrow streets, the fast-paced Catalan, the city’s loud vibrancy—it was all so different. I’d dreamt of this chance with Barça for as long as I could remember, but I hadn’t expected the anxiety that seemed to follow me everywhere. I missed my family, my friends, even my favorite coffee spot. Here, I was just… drifting.

It had been two weeks since I arrived, but every time I walked into the training facility, that nervous twist in my stomach returned. Today, though, felt worse. I’d woken up feeling off—grumpy, tired, missing everything familiar. The physical exhaustion from the intense training was starting to catch up, and my heart felt heavy with homesickness.

“Bon dia!” Mapi’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts as I walked in. She grinned, giving me a cheerful wave.

“Hola, Mapi,” I mumbled, trying to return her energy, but I could feel my own voice sounding flat, tired.

She raised an eyebrow, looking a bit curious. “Hey, how’s the whole moving thing going?”

I shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “It’s… okay, I guess,” I said, grabbing my training gear. I didn’t want to admit just how lonely I felt.

Mapi opened her mouth to say something else, but then Ingrid walked up, giving Mapi a pointed look. “Maria, for the last time—stop taking my clothes,” she sighed, tugging on the collar of the hoodie Mapi was wearing.

Usually, their back-and-forth would make me laugh, but today, I just couldn’t muster the energy. I forced a small smile and stood, boots in hand. “I’ll be on the pitch,” I mumbled, heading outside before they could ask any more questions.

Out on the field, the other girls were already warming up together, chatting and laughing. I watched them for a moment, feeling a pang of isolation. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly—far from it. But they all seemed to have this easy camaraderie, this natural rhythm, that I couldn’t quite find my way into. I grabbed a ball and went to a quieter spot on the field, juggling and practicing on my own.

As I focused on the ball, the weight of everything I’d left behind came crashing down on me. I missed my mom’s hugs, my dad’s terrible jokes, the random texts from my friends.

Even just hearing English everywhere felt like something I’d taken for granted. Here, every day felt like I was fumbling, trying to catch up.

I didn’t even notice someone approaching until a shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Alexia standing there, her expression soft and curious.

“Mind if I join?” she asked, nodding toward the ball at my feet.

I shrugged, trying to shake off the sadness in my eyes. “Sure.”

We passed the ball back and forth in silence for a bit. Alexia didn’t press, just letting me be. After a while, she spoke up, keeping her voice gentle. “The team’s getting together tonight. At my place. You should come.”

I hesitated, not wanting to seem rude but also not feeling in the mood for a crowd. “I don’t know… I might just head home after training.”

She tilted her head, studying me. “I know it’s not easy, coming here and adjusting to everything. But you don’t have to do it alone, okay? You’ve got us.”

Her words hit something deep, making my chest tighten. It was as if she understood exactly what I was feeling without me having to say it. I managed a small nod, not trusting my voice to stay steady.

“Alright,” she said, a gentle smile breaking through. “No pressure. Just think about it, okay?”

After training, I found myself reluctantly heading to Alexia’s place. The team was already there, scattered around her cozy living room, laughing and sharing stories. I joined a small group with the younger players, including Jana and Claudia. They were swapping stories and cracking jokes, but the exhaustion and emotions from the day were catching up to me. Before long, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy.

As the evening wore on, the laughter echoed in my ears, but it felt distant, as if I was watching from a haze. I felt out of place, despite being surrounded by friends. I watched as Alexia flitted between groups, her laughter bright and infectious, and I found myself drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

The laughter felt more distant, and the noise began to swirl around me, making it harder to breathe.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything—the unfamiliar faces, the bustling energy of the room, the tension in my chest—growing heavier. I needed to escape, if only for a moment. Excusing myself from the group, I slipped out of the living room and wandered down the hallway, searching for a quieter space.

I finally spotted a small, dimly lit room at the end of the hall. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, and leaned against it, feeling the cool wood against my back. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

“Hey, are you alright?”

I opened my eyes to find Alexia standing there, concern etched across her face. Her presence instantly made me feel a bit safer, but the nervousness still clawed at my insides.

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just so much. I thought I could handle it, but…”

Alexia stepped closer, her eyes softening as she listened. “Moving here can be overwhelming. It’s a big change, and it’s okay to feel off balance. You’re not alone in this.”

I felt a lump in my throat, her words wrapping around me like a warm blanket. I nodded slowly, the truth of her statement sinking in. It was comforting to know I didn’t have to navigate this by myself.

“I just miss home,” I confessed, feeling vulnerable. “I thought I’d be excited, but instead, it feels like I’m lost.”

Alexia moved to sit beside me on the floor, our backs against the door. “I get it. I moved away from my family, too. At first, it felt like everything I loved was far away. But it gets easier with time, especially when you have people around you who care.”

Her reassurance helped, though I still felt that tightness in my chest. “Sometimes, it feels like everyone else is so close and I’m just… out of place,” I admitted, glancing at her.

“Trust me, everyone feels that way at some point,” she said with a gentle smile. “Even the ones who look like they have it all together. It’s a process, and we’ll figure it out together. And you know what? You belong here. You’re part of this team now, and that means something.”

As her words wrapped around me, I took a deep breath, feeling a little of the weight lift. Being near her felt grounding. I could feel the tension slowly easing, replaced by a sense of safety I hadn’t expected to find.

“Thanks, Alexia,” I said, a shy smile breaking through my uncertainty. “It means a lot.”

“Anytime,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “And hey, if you need a break from the craziness, you can always come find me, okay?”

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, letting the chaos of the party fade away outside. I felt a sense of peace wash over me, grateful for this unexpected connection.

“Alright, let’s go back,” Alexia finally said, standing up and offering me her hand. “I promise, it’ll be fun. And if it gets too loud, we can always come back here.”

I took her hand, standing up beside her, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within me. Maybe I could find my place here after all.

“Okay,” I said, my heart feeling a little lighter. “Lead the way.”

As we stepped back into the living room, the laughter and chatter enveloped us again, but this time, I felt a little more ready to face it all—with Alexia by my side.

[gay-dorito-dust]

aaa ok hear me out on this. So I'm pretty sure you've mentioned that darling is one of Damians go-to petnames for his s/o. What about a little thing where his s/o normally will call him by his name but they end up calling him darling by accident? My english is terrible so sorry if this doesn't make much sense 😭

‘Where could it be.’ Damian muttered to himself as he practically tore his bedroom apart with his bare hands. ‘The stupid thing couldn’t have gotten that far.’

Damian had lost where he had placed his art pencils and couldn’t quite recall where he left them either, which was unlike him as he always had excellent recollection in the whereabouts of his and others belongings. Today however it seemed as though no matter how hard he racked his brain, Damian just couldn’t remember where he last left those stupid -yet expensive- set of charcoal pencils.

‘Tt, this is getting ridiculous now,’ Damian said to himself as he wiped the sweat from his brow that had accumulated from searching high and low for art supplies, ‘it’s not as if they could’ve grown legs and walked off somewhere.’ It wasn’t until that moment did Damian realise that you had came back from your trip to the kitchen for a snack as you stood in the doorway of his room, looking at the mess that you were certain wasn’t there beforehand.

‘Damian, what’s going on here, it’s not like you to just turn your room into a pig sty just because you felt like it.’ You told Damian as you stepped into the room, suspecting the mess before looking back at your boyfriend who was usually good at keeping his room tidy and well organised, but the heavy pout on his lips and the furrow in his brow told you that there was a reason to the sudden mess.

‘I can’t find my charcoal pencils.’ He replied shortly, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Well you’re certainly not going to in this mess.’ You retorted sarcastically, causing Damian to scoff, ‘why didn’t you try and recall the last place you put them.’ You added, trying to be helpful in this situation.

‘I did but they weren’t there.’ Damian tells you as he went back to tearing apart his room to search for his missing art pencils when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention; it was Damian’s charcoal pencils, peaking out slightly from his bag alongside his sketch pad and paintbrushes. It wasn’t easy to spot but they were there and it was a surprise to you that Damian hadn’t seem to notice this at all, but that’s what made the entire situation just that little bit more hilarious then it should’ve been.

‘Damian.’ You called.

‘Not now y/n.’ He replied, heavily focused on finding these stupid pencils before he had to head off for school.

‘Damian.’ You tried again, now holding his bag in your hand, getting ready to show to him for when he looked up from under the bed.

‘Tt. Unless you’re going to help me, don’t distract me from-‘

‘I found your art pencils darling.’ Your voice cuts Damian off completely, leaving him taken aback but it wasn’t because you had found his pencils as he scrambled out from under his bed and stood up to see you holding his bag, which did indeed have his charcoal pencils in upon closer inspection.

‘What?’ You asked upon seeing his face.

‘What did you just say?’ Damian said.

You made a face and raised the bag a little higher. ‘I found your charcoal pencils?’ You replied albeit confused and a little worried that something was wrong with your boyfriend, did he hit his head as he was getting himself out from under his bed? You weren’t quite sure as you didn’t hear anything that could indicate that being the case.

‘Not that,’ Damian snipped, the search having left him feeling exhausted, agitated and embarrassed, ‘after that.’

‘I said Damian.’ You told him, your concern growing stronger the longer this went on.

Damian groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘Darling, you called me darling.’ He spat out as a silence befell you both as the realisation sat in for you, meanwhile Damian was looking away from you with slightly flustered expression.

‘Oh.’ You said after a while. ‘Do you…do you hate it?’ You then asked as you looked down at your feet, finding them to be the most interesting thing in the room right now as your heart went crazy within your rib cage. Pet names weren’t new for either of you but you didn’t use them on a regular occurrence like regular couples, sure Damian called you darling or treasure but that was mainly behind closed doors or as little people as possible, but other then that you’ve rarely used them in any other context.

‘No, my treasure I didn’t hate it,’ Damian said softly as he managed to compose himself enough to walk over to you and take his bag from your hand, putting it on the bed before taking your hands in his, ‘I was just taken aback that is all.’ He reassured you by pressing a gently kiss to your forehead. If anything Damian liked it when you called him darling, it sent his heart a flutter and ignited a fire within his soul as his entire body grew warm by a simple pet name from your lips, however this was something he was yet to be comfortable in admitting to you in confidence but he will one day.

‘Does that mean I can call you it more often?’ You asked, already making up future scenarios where that would be the case within your mind in hope of seeing that very same flustered expression on across his face once more.

‘If you must, please do so in places where my siblings are out of range to hear.’ Damian said, smiling softly as you beamed in happiness, this was what he lived to see every day of his life, just you being extremely happy and happy with him; Something he hoped that he could continue to make you far into the future you shared together.

‘Deal.’ You said as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Darling.’

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Aussie Slang || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

Summary: You quiz Tom on set on some Australian slangs as his Aussie gf ;)

A/n: Inspired by the interview between Sydney Sweeney and Joe Davidson, also bc as an Aussie this was fun to do lol 🙈

Warnings: none

Wc:

actress!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

"Tomm" You enter your shared trailer with your phone in hand, recording. "Yes, darling?" Tom looks up from his script as he gives you a smile and slightly confused face as he looks towards your phone. "I'm going to test your knowledge on aussie slang and words," You set up your camera on the table in front of him as he pulls you by your waist to sit on his lap.

He touches your hair that were in hair rollers as you smile at his buzzed hair, your favourite look on him. "I feel like I'm going to be absolutely terrible as this," He points out as you chuckle, fixing your camera. "I know, especially since I don't really say some of the stuff I'm going to quiz you on," You giggle as he throws his head back.

"That's even better," He sarcastically says with a smile as you pull out a small note book with the things you wrote down. "Okay, first one, are you ready?" You hype Tom up as he nervously looks at you. "This one is an easy one, I say it all the time. She'll be right"

You hide your smile behind the notebook as he thinks, "She'll be right?" You nod at him, "When have you said this?" He looks at you dumbfounded as your jaw drops, "Tom! I say this all the time, I even said it just this morning!" "I was half asleep this morning!" He reasons as you cover your face and laugh.

"This morning you told me it was going to be colder today and you said to bring my jacket remember?" "Yeah..." "Well I said she'll be right and I regretted not bringing one so you gave me yours. There you go, I just gave you a hint!"

Tom's mouth forms an o shaped, "Doesn't it just mean it's all good?" "Yes!" You chuckle. "Okay, that was an easy one" Tom smiles as you give him a look and look to the camera shaking your head. "Okay next one, I don't really say this to you but when I'm talking to my sister on the phone, you might hear me say this one: scoenonn"

Tom gives you the weirdest look as you laugh so hard tears started to form. "I'm sorry could you repeat that?" Tom looks absolutely baffled. "Scoenonn." You say in your Australian accent one more time as he shakes his head. "Is that even english?" He quietly laughs to himself as he thinks hard. "I say this to my sister when I greet her sometimes," You give him a hint.

"I actually have no idea," Tom says, his finger drawing circles on your back. "It just means what's going on" You laugh as Tom pulls another baffled expression. "Why can't you just say what's going on instead of what you just- How do you even spell that!" You show your notebook to Tom as he furrows his eyebrows at the spelling.

"Scoenonn. Wow." He chuckles to himself. "For this one I'm going to have to actually find it around here,” you look around the trailer before getting off Tom's lap and running into the bedroom and to your bedside drawer pulling it out. "Babe, what's this?" You show him a tub of vaseline as he gives you an odd look. "Vaseline?" He says in a questioning tone as he gives you space to sit back on his lap.

"Yes, but what do Aussies call this?" You hold it up to him before applying it to your lips as he watches you intently. "Uh-" "I think I have said it to you when I ask you where it is," Tom rubs his chin as he thinks. "Is it something completely whack and doesn't make sense?" He asks as you shake your head.

"This is fun," You giggle as you look to your phone. Tom lets out a groan of frustration, "Can you just tell me?" "Fine. Vaso. We call it Vaso" You couldn't help the smile that was forming on your lips as he shakes his head and laughs.

"You aussies sure do like shortening things up," He points out as you laugh at his comment. "Okay second last one, "What is a bottle-o." "A bottle-O? Is that just a a type of bottle?" You shake your head, "Nope." "Uhm, is it a name of a shop in Australia?" "You're getting there!" You chuckle.

"Want me to put it in a sentence?" You asks as he nods, "Do you wanna come with me to the bottle-o and pick out a few beers?" Your aussie accent comes through as he smiles at you accent. Tom absolutely adores your accent and could listen to you talking all day if it mean hearing your accent.

"A bottle shop?" He guesses as you pat his shoulder. "Good job babe," You grin as you flip the page of your notebook. "Okay last one, If you don't get this one, your aussie fans are going to be so disappointed as well as your girlfriend." You tease him.

"Aussie Aussie Aussie," You watch him as he repeats it to himself before his eyes light up. "Oi oi oi!" He chants back as the two of you burst out laughing. "Yes!" You wrap your arms around his neck as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. "This was fun wasn't?" You say as you lean forward and grab your phone, aiming it towards you two in each others embrace.

"Maybe I should quiz you on some British slangs, see how you go," Tom looks at you with a smile on his face as you make eye contact with him, "I'd be so good at that love," You chuckle before ending the video. You posted it on your Instagram and it blew up. Tom kept his promise of testing you on British slangs and that video also became very popular which then turned into your little thing of quizzing the other cast members.