#so i wanted to have a good mix of those and then some shots i've seen giffed less

[hellenhighwater]

Whilst browsing my dash I came upon a couple of posts of yours. One being the citrus garland one, and the other being the completed pepper juice to the eye post. I've wanted to do citrus garlands for *years* but I am allergic to citrus. Only upon seeing your post did I realize that I should be fine if I wear gloves.

Now to the second post and my reason for being here. Forgive me for being a bit long-winded, I promise it goes somewhere. I am the director for the elementary DnD after school club. I had intended to run a wizard themed game, but multiple things got in the way and I was unable to get any of those ideas off the ground. However, my students did come up with what their wands were going to look like. And so I have a new quest: make wands for my kids. I have the wands themselves already made, and today I picked up things to make the wands unique (paint, gems, clay, etc.) But upon seeing your post about making the big batches of stuff to give away as gifts I went, "Ooh, I want to do that!" But I am no good in the kitchen so I turned to Pinterest for potential ideas. I saw many tutorials on how to make tiny potion bottles, and reached out to a friend who also hoards crafts like a dragon. I sought for her to make me stop, but truly I wanted permission to go for it. She suggested that I go all in and make a jar of homemade spice blend, decorate it with witchy stuff, throw in some fake potions, and make a whole gift box for the holidays.

So yeah, I guess I'm making wizard boxes now.

You should be able to use the orange drying method on most fruits, for what it's worth (persimmons, especially, give a very vibrant orange color, though they are still citrus) including apples and pears. So if the gloves don't do the trick, maybe try a different fruit entirely?

From the depths of my tiny bottles drawer: a handful of spell component jars, made for a campaign that's years ago now!

Spice mixes are fun, but because they generally go into hot beverages, maybe not the best option for elementary schoolers. Instead, may I suggest "mystery" powdered drink mixes, re-packaged into tiny potion bottles like the two above? You could label them and have a pitcher of water and cups with each character's name at the table, and let players dump the powder into their cup and drink whatever it is, either when they use a potion or as a spell component. (Small cups just larger than a shot glass may be preferred to stave off constant pee breaks.) You could also mix in festive sprinkles or food-safe luster dust for visual texture; a little extra sugar in most powdered mixes won't be highly noticeable.

But I do love the idea of a little wizard goodie box to take home! That sounds like a super fun campaign; I hope they enjoy it.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Leap of faith - Lewis Hamilton

It can be read as a separate one-shot. But with the story it just makes it so much better

Sequence: Not just a pretty face / I need you to let me go / Fly on my own / Leap of faith (bonus)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: couple who went through a lot finally getting their happily ever after 🥹❤️

wordcount: +2k

a/n: Their story has my whole heart and I thought they deserved this closure❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, the glow of fairy lights casting a warm light across the open Californian sky. Guests were scattered around tables, their faces glowing with joy and a bit of alcohol.

In the midst of it all, the newlyweds stood at the center of attention, surrounded by family and friends who had gathered to witness this moment.

Lewis stood there, his fingers lightly gripping the mic as he looked around the room.

His eyes landed on Y/n, and his usual confidence softened into something more tender. He took a breath, the kind that spoke volumes without saying a word, then began to speak with that familiar, easygoing tone.

"I've been thinking a lot about what I wanted to say today. You all know I’m not really one for speeches—well, at least not ones that don’t involve a podium anyway. But today, standing here, looking at Y/n, I realize that there are some things that need to be said. Things that have been in my heart for a long time, but that maybe I haven’t always found the right words for."

He glanced down at his new wedding band for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before looking back up at her.

"When I first met Y/n, I was... let’s just say I was a little too sure of myself. I thought I knew what I wanted out of life, what it meant to be successful, to be happy. But Y/n... she changed all of that."

He paused, his eyes softening as he took in her face, the way she looked at him with that mix of affection and amusement that only she could pull off.

"I won’t pretend that our journey has been easy. It hasn’t. There have been times when I wondered if we’d ever get here, if we’d ever figure out how to make it work. But through it all, there was this pull—something that kept drawing me back to you. It felt inevitable."

There was a brief silence, the kind that came when words just didn’t seem enough, but he pressed on, his voice a little softer now.

"Over the years, I’ve felt so many things for you, Y/n. Admiration, frustration, pride, fear... love. So much love.

“But more than anything, I’ve felt lucky. Lucky to have met someone who sees me—not the driver, not the celebrity. The real me. And even luckier that, despite everything, you’ve chosen to stand by my side."

He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if he was still a bit in awe of it all.

"You’ve taught me that love isn’t about finding someone who’s perfect—God knows neither of us are that. It’s about finding someone who’s willing to grow with you, to fight with you and for you, to laugh with you when things are good and hold you when they’re not.”

“It’s about finding that person who challenges you, who pushes you to be better, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."

His voice caught slightly, just for a moment, and he cleared his throat before continuing.

"There were times when the distance, the pressures, the lives we lead seemed like too much. But every time I doubted, you showed up. You were always there, with your strength, your sarcasm, your endless belief in me. And slowly, I started to believe too. Believe that we were worth the fight, worth all the doubts."

He stopped, letting those words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, his tone more thoughtful now.

"I’ve thought a lot about what it means to commit to someone, to truly give yourself over to another person. It’s not something I’ve ever taken lightly. But then I remember when you asked me if I'd catch you. And how I just knew, somehow, that I could never let you fall. That I would always be there, arms wide open, ready to catch you."

He paused again, his eyes never leaving hers, and there was a rawness in his voice.

"You’ve been my biggest challenge and my greatest adventure. And through all the ups and downs, all the doubts and fears, one thing has remained constant: my love for you. It’s been tested, pushed to its limits, but it’s also grown stronger because of it. Stronger because of you."

There was a brief silence as he let those words sink in, both for himself and for everyone listening.

"I’ve come to realize that loving you, Y/n, isn’t trying to fit into some perfect mold, some idea of what we’re supposed to be. It’s embracing who we are, flaws and all. You make me want to be a better man, not because you ask me to, but because you deserve nothing less."

He took a deep breath, the emotion in his voice becoming more apparent as he neared the end of his vows.

"I’ve been in some pretty high-pressure situations in my life. But standing here today, committing my life to you, is by far the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

He smiled, a little wistful but also full of hope and love.

"You’ve always been the one, Y/n. Even when I didn’t know it, even when I tried to deny it, you were always the one. And, standing here, I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to. Because I’ve found home."

Lewis’s voice dropped to a near whisper, the words meant only for her, even as the room listened intently.

"I’m all in, Y/n. I’ve always been all in, even when I didn’t realize it. And I can’t wait to see where this leap takes us next. Because whatever happens, wherever we go, I know one thing for sure—I’ll always catch you."

He let out a small, almost relieved sigh, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Then, with a soft smile, he added,

"And I promise, for as long as I’m breathing, I’ll never let you fall alone."

As the last word left his lips and he smiled at his wife, Y/n stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly, as if to anchor herself in that moment.

He embraced her, his lips brushing softly against her hair, leaving a tender kiss there as he breathed in her familiar scent for a minute, before she let go and nodded at him.

Y/n took a deep breath as she took the microphone from Lewis, her fingers lightly brushing over his fingers as she gazed at him.

His vows had been everything she expected and more, and now it was her turn.

She could feel the weight of the moment, the anticipation in the air, but as she turned away from him, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—mischief, affection, and a hint of that vulnerability she rarely let anyone see.

She glanced at the guests, her smile widening as she began to speak, her tone warm but laced with the familiar sarcasm that everyone knew.

“Well, that was something, wasn’t it?” Y/n’s voice carried through the room, earning a ripple of laughter. She turned her gaze back to Lewis, playfully narrowing her eyes.

 “Leave it to you to set the bar so damn high. Now I’m standing here, realizing that I should’ve probably gone first. But hey, that’s always been our dynamic, right? You go ahead, and I’ll catch up when I’m not that scared anymore.”

The guests chuckled, and Y/n took a moment to collect her thoughts. The teasing edge in her voice softened into something more genuine as she shifted her gaze back to Lewis.

“First off, let’s get this out of the way— you guys have no idea how much I’ve been trying to keep my cool all day.” She winked at the crowd, earning a few more chuckles.

“The fact that I’m standing here, in front of all of you, without a single escape plan in my back pocket is... growth.”

Her gaze shifted to her mother, who was sitting with tears already glistening in her eyes.

“I see you, Mom. I know what you’re thinking: ‘Finally, she’s not running.’ But, you know, there’s a story there.”

Y/n’s voice softened; her smile more tender as she addressed her mother.

“I get it now. All those times you tried to guide me, protect me from the world, from heartbreak—I know you were just trying to give me the best. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn’t listening, or worse, like I didn’t care. I did. I always have. I just... I had to figure it out in my own stubborn way”

She paused, letting her words sink in. Her mother nodded, lips trembling with a smile that spoke volumes more than any words could.

“And Dad,” Y/n continued, her eyes finding her father’s across the room.

“You always knew, didn’t you? You saw something in Lewis long before I did. And me, being me, I just rolled my eyes, thinking you were too eager to hand me off.” She laughed, shaking her head.

“But you were right. As always. And you never pushed, never pressured. You let me come to my own conclusions, and for that, I’m so grateful. You knew I needed time to figure out that Lewis was my away to learn how to fly.”

A wave of emotion caught in her throat, but Y/n swallowed it down, keeping her tone light as she turned to address Lewis’s parents. Her smile softened as she met their eyes.

“And to my future in-laws—Carmen, Anthony and Linda – God, I can’t believe I’m saying that out loud—thank you for raising a man who is patient enough to deal with all of this.”

She gestured to herself with a grin, drawing laughter from the guests.

“I know you probably didn’t sign up for a daughter-in-law who has a habit of running. I know it hasn’t always been easy, watching us go through everything, but I hope you know how much I love him. Thank you for welcoming me, quirks and all, into your family with open arms. I promise to take care of him, to be the partner he deserves.”

She turned then, her gaze locking onto Lewis. The room seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

“And you” she began, her voice softer, more intimate. “Lewis... where do I even start? You’ve been my constant when I was chaos, my anchor when I was drifting.”

Another pause, her voice almost choking as she took one of Lewis’s outstretched hands.

“I begged you to let me go. I was so scared—of us, of what we were becoming, of what I was feeling. I thought if I ran far enough, fast enough, I could escape it.”

She took a breath, her eyes glistening.

“But you—God, you just wouldn’t let me go, even when I didn’t deserve you. You stood there, you saw right through all my bravado, and you told me you weren’t going anywhere. That you’d wait. And you did.”

She said the last part almost to herself, nodding incredulously.

“You waited while I sorted through my mess, while I ran from something I didn’t fully understand.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and she let it fall freely.

“I’ve been thinking about this day for a long time—Feels like I’ve been calling you my partner, my best friend, my everything for so long, but now… Husband. That’s a whole new level. I mean, look at you, sitting there all smug, knowing you got me to sign my life away."

She let out a small laugh, lightening the mood for a moment as everyone else felt the tension ease, only for her expression to turn more reflective again.

"Seriously though … when I first met you, I wasn’t looking for forever. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was looking for tomorrow. I was stuck, scared, trying to navigate my own storm, and you—you were like this ridiculous beacon of light, just… shining. And I couldn’t ignore you, even though I really wanted to."

She paused, smiling as she recalled those early days.

"I kept telling myself, ‘Don’t get involved, don’t fall for the guy with the world at his feet.’ But then you’d do something… something so small, like remembering how I take my coffee or noticing when I was having a bad day without me saying a word. You were patient when I needed time, persistent when I pushed you away, and through all my doubts and fears, you became the person I couldn’t imagine my life without."

Y/n looked down for a moment, taking a breath before continuing.

“You lit something up in me that I didn’t even know was there, something that made me feel like I was enough. Like maybe, just maybe, I could be more than the sum of my fears and insecurities.”

She paused, her eyes softening again as she looked at Lewis.

"We’ve been through it, haven’t we? And I don’t just mean the glamorous stuff. I’m talking about the hard nights, the distance, the moments where I didn’t know if we’d make it through.”

There was a soft murmur among the guests as Y/n’s voice lowered, the raw emotion in her words unmistakable.

“We’re standing here today because you never let go, even when I wasn’t sure I could hold on."

Then the room was silent once again, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

“You’ve taught me that love it’s something you choose, every single day. That it resides in the little things—the way you pull me closer when I need it, the way you let me push you away for a bit when I’m too scared to let you in. It’s about the quiet moments, when you’ve stayed by me even when I didn’t ask, because you knew I needed you. The times when you’ve held me together when I felt like falling apart.”

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly before she regained her composure.

“I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to love. I’ve put up walls, kept you at arm’s length because I was scared of what it might mean to really let you in. But you never gave up on me. You never walked away, even when I gave you every reason to.”

Y/n’s voice trembled, but she steadied herself with a deep breath.

“Falling for you felt like coming home. Like finding the place I was always meant to be, the place where all the chaos was worth it”

She looked back at Lewis, her eyes shining with and her voice thick.

"Lewis, you were my leap of faith. And trust me, I’ve never been a fan of heights. But with you, it’s all about rising. Rising above my fears, my insecurities, all the things that used to hold me back."

She paused, blinking back tears as she smiled at the guests.

“You’ve been my rock, my safe place, the one who’s seen me at my worst and still loved me through it all.”

She wiped her cheek with a shaky laugh.

“There’s something terrifying about that, isn’t there? The idea that someone could know you so completely, so intimately, and still choose to stay. You’ve chosen me, even when I wasn’t sure if I could choose myself.”

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling with emotion as she continued.

“I always think back to that night – you know the one – when I asked you if you’d catch me or if I’d have to learn to fly on my own. You didn’t hesitate. You just opened your arms and let me fall… fall into you.”

Y/n’s breathing trembled again.

“And that’s when I knew. No matter what happened, no matter where life took us, I’d never be alone. Because I had you. I had this incredible man who was willing to catch me, over and over again, no matter how many times I stumbled.”

Y/n’s voice broke slightly as she spoke her next words, her tears flowing freely now.

“I’ve always been scared of letting go, of giving myself over to someone completely. But with you, it doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like flying. Like coming home.”

Y/n took a moment to steady herself before she added, with a smile through her tears.

“Lewis, I’m all in. My husband, my partner, my leap of faith, you’re the one I choose, every day and in every way.”

Y/n wiped at the corner of her eye as she finished, giving Lewis’s hands that extra squeeze.

“So here’s to us, to our forever. I can’t promise I won’t drive you crazy, or that I’ll ever stop being a little bit of a mess, but I can promise to love you fiercely, endlessly, and with everything I have. Thank you for being my anchor, my safe place, and most importantly, for being you.

There was a pause as she took a last breath, her eyes never leaving his, her smile bright on her features.

"Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. Cheers—to love, to learning how to fly, to taking the leap."

______________________________________________________________

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[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 12 BIRTHDAY PARTY

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, friendship jealousy?, a very brief mention of some guy hitting on y/n + spiking of drinks but I didn't want to go into too much detail so it's not a very in depth description or anything

NOTES | I so badly wanted to write this chapter better but it just hasn't been working for me, I think I've reached my wits end with this chapter and this is the best I could do which honestly I'm really disappointed with it, but I want to get back to regular posting and I don't think I can rewrite this chapter again after going in circles with it for the past week so I'm sorry if it's not v good

Jaemin's happy, spending his birthday night with the people he cares for most, having a good time. It helps him forget, the struggles the worries, the events of the past week. He forgets it all. And even if just for a moment, jaemin feels free, like nothing could stop him.

It's not a feeling that lasts long, and as the sound of sweet laughter echoes in his ears, despite the blaring music, jaemin reminds himself that he doesn't have the right to feel so happy after what he'd done. Or at least he thinks so.

Y/n's laugh is quiet but he hears every part of it intricately, his head shooting over to the left where she's a few drinks deep into a conversation with Mark and Haechan. His heart thumps in his chest. Jaemin follows Chenle and Renjun's eager eyes, watching the way they navigate through the crowd to join the conversation. His palms are sweaty, clammy even, and the bile almost rises to his throat, resting in that uncomfortable position that made him shift his weight from one foot to the other. The events of the other day seem to play in his head, on loop, on repeat, at every sight of the girl. The bitter feeling causes his hands to shake, almost eating hik alive. How could he have done that?

A lump in his throat, jaemin can't help but remember the days, those days where he knew everything there was to know about the girl across the room. The days where y/n was deeply integrated into the mix of the 6 other rowdy, loud and messy but sweet boys he called his best friends. Those days that were long gone. Relationships that could never be restored taken with it. Those days when nights like these, like today, would be nothing but a distant nightmare.

Y/n was dressed to the nines in a pretty red dress that she'd never have worn before, with features so different, a sign of the time that had passed, Jaemin swore he barely knew the girl he saw in front of him.

But for a flash of a second Jaemin does see someone he recognises. He sees y/n. His y/n.

The y/n with slightly shorter hair, softer features, happier eyes and a brighter smile. The carefree y/n, the y/n who fit to a T the memories he stored in his mind. The y/n who would never have done what she had to him.

He had given his best shot to forgetting those exact memories but they were vivid recollections that would never escape his mind no matter how hard he tried. Today for the first time in 3 years Jaemin had let himself look back fondly on what they had once been. He wondered where it all went wrong, what he had done wrong back then for it to end like this.

Jaemin sighs, pulling his hand back from the open bar and taking just a few steps back to observe. Haechan seems to have cracked a joke. From afar it seems like one of those things that gets funnier as each person adds, and soon he notices the four of his friends doubled over in laughter, grasping each other for support and laughing to their hearts content. Something about that site in front of him makes it feel as though time hadn't changed a thing, their bond still as unbreakable and robust as before, a bond that ran beyond verbal description and light sentiment, it was a deep rooted bonding of their souls.

He felt jealous.

Jaemin, for as long as he let his eyes play the scene in front of him, felt sickeningly jealous.

He wanted nothing more than to have his friendship with her to be untouched, the bond he had with his best friend, that had been stronger than any other, he wanted it back as though nothing had hapenned and nothing had gone wrong in the first place.

His stomach churns with nausea, and jaemin subconsciously steps further away from the makeshift bar, watching Y/n closely.

Her mannerisms had changed, no longer that same rough reflection of his own habits, but a distinct and sharp contrast. There's no scrunch of her nose or reeling back when she tips back a shot, no hesitance to get herself another drink without tugging someone along with her

No sign of the girl he once knew inside out, other than a few vaguely familiar facial features.

Jaemin's too occupied in his thoughts to notice how his friends now begin to pile into the other room, setting up for beer pong, hell jaemin barely notices when Jeno invites him over to play, with a pat on his back and a smile on his face.

His eyes instead find themselves glued to the captain across the room. Where she was stood at least, because once Jaemin shakes himself from his thoughts and his blank stare grows fuller, he realises that y/n isn't anywhere to be seen.

He knows for a fact that she wasn't in the other room, crowding around the table and cheering for whoever she decided she'd be supporting. Instead, his eyes shoot over to the kitchen, and his legs follow. A concerned Isa scurrying out of the kitchen, only giving him reason to trust his gut.

The sound of slurred conversation fills his ears and suddenly he finds himself walking a little quicker. Intuition was always his strong suit and the churning in the pit of his stomach made him gulp.

"I'm really not interested" he hears y/n's voice, slightly muffled as he enters the kitchen, stood in the doorway to see some guy, he's not really sure who, stood towering in front of her

"oh come on, I make the best drinks" he says, holding out a red solo cup in front of her.

Y/n rolls her eyes. Nobody presses for a drink that much unless they're up to something. She knows that despite being a few too many shots into the night. And she certainly knows better than to accept a drink off a stranger.

In moments like this, she assumes violence isn't the answer — she knew she lacked the coordination to even walk in a straight line right now. So she gladly accepts the drink, taking it in her hands and swirling it about in the cup. Although the urge to splash it in his face was strong, Y/n knew getting out of the situation wasn't that simple. But she didn't exactly have many ideas now either.

"So what's in this mystery drink of yours?" she asks with a sickeningly sweet tone, trying to buy herself time. There was no way she was drinking this, especially not considering this guy had been hitting on her for the past 5 minutes

Her eyes dart across the room, searching for any sign of a way out of the situation, her eyes finally landing on the doorway. Y/n had never felt so relieved at the sight of Jaemin, certainly not in recent times.

It took less than a second before he was already taking a stride towards her

"Hey y/n" he smiles, walking over and placing his arm over her shoulder. Jaemin feels her body tense under his hold, his faux smile almost dropping at the realisation.

But he has no time to take offence, grabbing the cup from her hands "I could use a drink." he says despite the fact that right now, even the mention of alcohol had his stomach churning. Paired with the blaring music and the crowd of people, the nausea was overpowering.

But the second his eyes land on her, he feels a sense of ease, just like the old times. And for the second time that night jaemin can't help but think where it had all gone wrong, where they had gone wrong.

He wants to stand and ponder whether this grudge he'd been holding against her for years was really worth the loss of the most treasured relationship he knew. But the amused stare of the creep opposite him gives jaemin no room to think, in fact he barely has the room to breathe with how close he is.

That sick smirk on his face, jaemin wants nothing more than to knock his jaw in and his teeth out. If it weren't for y/n beside him, jaemin probably would.

But the brunette only gets a quick glare from jaemin before he guides Y/n out of the kitchen with him. His arm only falling back down to his side when they were in the hallway.

"Thanks" she mutters out, and it's clear to jaemin that she's far from sober, even clearer when she takes a shaky step forwards.

"Woah" it's instinctive the way he reaches for her arm, steadying her in his hold. "Let me help you"

But she pulls her arm back.

"You really don't need to be nice to me because of what hapenned the other day" she sighs, leaning against the wall behind her. "I'm over it, honestly" she says, her hands held up either side of her head. But her eyes remain latched ontot he floor.

"That's not why I'm‐" his words are cut off again, this time by his own thoughts. His muscles tensed and jaemin had no idea why, but her words didn't seem to sit right with him.

"Look I appreciate it" she pauses, "but it feels awkward, you're not supposed to help me, it's just not what you do" she says, shrugging

The feeling inside him grows as each word passes her lips. His throat tightening.

Jaemin feels a sudden sense of urgency overcome him, the need to defend himself profound.

"Come on peach, I wouldn't let some creep get away with that no matter what, especially not with you"

His voice comes as a soft whisper, rushed, but gentle.

Jaemin for the first time had spoken before he could think, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, barely able to process his own words. He wants to say more, but he can't, like his tongue is tied as he waits for a response.

He searches for any sign of belief in her face, any sign of trust, anything he could work with, he'd take.

"I'm sorry" he musters up the courage to say, though he's not sure what it is he apologises for. All he hopes is that he'll see something, anything.

But the blank expression that laid across her features was far from what he was looking for.

Her lips lay flat in a straight line, her eyes latched onto the floor, expression stoic. He wanted her to scream, shout, kick, do anything. Jaemin as ever before, just wanted to get a reaction out of the girl, the slip of the once endearing nickname from his lips no mistake.

"Say something" he bends down ever so slightly, now eye level with her slouched figure "please" his speech is breathy, desperate almost. He doesn't care.

For the first time, jaemin knows what he wants. And though he's too scared to say it, jaemin finally admits to himself just how much y/n means to him. It seems a lot easier to do when she's by his side, like all things had when she was around. And the question arises once again, where had everything gone wrong? and perhaps more importantly, why had he let go of everything so easily?

The thoughts cloud his mind again, his eyes trained on the girl opposite him, her lips between her teeth.

Y/n felt silly, that stupid nickname causing tears to well up in her eyes, that nickname that she had never known to mean so much. Peach. She used to love when he called her that, now she wasn't so sure.

She holds his eyes in her own for a moment, not breaking the silence until a shaky breath falls from her lips.

"I should go" and her eyes return to the floor "Happy birthday jaemin."

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[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (11/15)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @httpsserene @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237 @niahxo @purplelewlew @queenshikongo3

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 11: Same Ol’ Mistakes

Flashback to Early 2019 - New York City

Laughter and chatter echoed through Ayesha's newly purchased condo in New York City. The housewarming party was in its prime, celebrating her big move and the start of her career at a prestigious law firm.

Rorie stepped in, Lewis by her side, her stomach fluttering with a mix of anticipation and nerves. After nearly four months of dating, she was finally introducing Lewis to her closest friends.

Their relationship had been a whirlwind, progressing faster than Rorie could have ever imagined. Despite Lewis's hectic racing schedule, they'd managed to steal moments together whenever possible - stolen weekends in exotic locales, late-night FaceTime calls, and surprise visits to race tracks. Rorie had fallen hard and fast, the intensity of their connection taking her by surprise.

"Ladies!" Rorie called out, approaching the group gathered in the living room. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Five heads turned, eyes widening as they took in Lewis Hamilton standing beside their friend. Rorie made the introductions: "Lewis, these are my girls - KiKi, Deja, Tia, Britt, and of course, our hostess, Ayesha."

A chorus of hellos and nice-to-meet-yous filled the air. As Lewis shook hands with each woman, Deja felt her breath catch. She'd recognize that smile anywhere - it was the same one that had dazzled her that night in New Orleans during All-Star weekend 2017.

Lewis paused as he reached Deja, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Have we met before? You look familiar."

Deja's heart raced, but she kept her cool. After all, she was here with her new boyfriend, a rookie for the Knicks. "Oh, I just have one of those faces," she said with a casual laugh. "I get that a lot."

Lewis nodded, accepting her explanation, and moved on to greet the others.

KiKi couldn't resist teasing, "So, the elusive Lewis finally graces us with his presence! We were starting to think Rorie had an imaginary boyfriend."

Britt chimed in, "Yeah, if it weren't for those paparazzi shots, we might not have believed you existed!"

Lewis laughed good-naturedly. "Sorry about that, ladies. The racing schedule can be a bit crazy as hell." As they settled into conversation, Lewis looked around the apartment approvingly. "This is a great neighborhood, Ayesha."

Ayesha beamed. "Thanks! It took some searching, but I think I've found the perfect spot."

Tia couldn't resist chiming in with a grin. "Speaking of perfect spots, Rorie, so this the man that's been flying you out to all those exotic locations? Your passport must be tired of you!"

Lewis smirked, a hint of cockiness in his voice. "Guilty as charged. What can I say? I like to show my girl the world."

Rorie playfully rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Don't encourage him, Tia. His ego's big enough as it is."

The group laughed, the atmosphere light and celebratory. KiKi leaned in, whispering to Rorie, "Damn, girl. You didn't tell us he was this fine up close. Does he have a brother, a cousin, something?"

"What about Khalil? I thought you two were trying to make it work?" Rorie asked, giving her friend a curious glance.

"Fuck that nigga, let me tell you how I had another bitch call me about messing around with him. I’m not trying to be nobody’s sister wife," KiKi shook her head with a sigh. "Besides, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

Throughout the evening, Deja found herself stealing glances at Lewis, memories of that night in New Orleans flashing through her mind. But each time, she'd remind herself of her current relationship, of the life she was building now.

Rorie felt a sense of contentment wash over her. Her two worlds were merging seamlessly, and the future looked bright. Little did she know that beneath the surface of this perfect evening, seeds of future complications were already being sown.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The January chill nipped at Rorie's newly blonde locks as she stepped out of the car, New York City's skyline twinkling against the night sky. She ran a hand through her hair, still adjusting to the dramatic change. The decision to go blonde had been impulsive, a desire to shake things up for the new year, but now a flicker of self-consciousness crept in. The Maison Spoiled event buzzed with anticipation, fashion's elite mingling in a dazzling display of wealth and influence.

"Fuck, it's freezing," Rorie muttered, tugging her fur-trimmed collar closer. Lewis chuckled, his arm snaking around her waist as they approached the entrance.

"You'd think after all these years, you'd be used to it," he teased.

Inside, warmth enveloped them along with the soft clink of champagne flutes and hushed conversations. As Maison Spoiled's newest ambassador, Rorie felt the weight of expectation on her shoulders, coupled with a lingering exhaustion from their whirlwind trip to Brazil.

Their time in Bahia had been... intense, to say the least. Between lazy beach days and family time with Lyric, Rorie and Lewis had rediscovered a passion that left them both pleasantly sore and perpetually grinning. "Trying for a sibling," they'd joked, though the underlying hope was real.

Now, as they made their rounds, exchanging air kisses and pleasantries, Rorie caught snippets of conversation that made her pulse quicken.

"Hamilton to Ferrari? No way..."

"For 2025, I heard..."

Before she could process the implications, Julian Polak appeared before them, his eyes sparkling almost as brightly as the diamonds adorning the room.

"Rorie, Lewis! So glad you could make it," Julian beamed, clasping their hands warmly. "Rorie, you're absolutely glowing. Brazil must have agreed with you."

Rorie felt her cheeks warm, memories of sun-soaked skin and tangled sheets flashing through her mind. "It was... rejuvenating," she managed, sharing a knowing glance with Lewis.

As Julian launched into a passionate explanation of Maison Spoiled's vision, Rorie's mind raced. How had the Ferrari news leaked?

The night wore on, and the whispers grew louder. By the time they left, it was clear that Lewis's move to Ferrari was the worst-kept secret in the room.

Back in their hotel suite, Rorie kicked off her heels with a sigh. "Babe, we need to talk about what happened tonight."

Lewis nodded, loosening his tie. "I know. I've already got calls from Toto and the Ferrari team. We're gonna have to move up the announcement."

Rorie flopped onto the bed, her mind racing. "This is gonna be a shitshow, isn't it?"

Lewis sat beside her, running a hand through his hair. "Probably. But hey, at least it'll take some heat off the lawsuit drama, right?"

Rorie couldn't help but laugh. "Always looking on the bright side, huh?"

Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Kiki:

Girl, have you seen what's trending? #HamiltonToFerrari is blowing up!

"Great," Rorie groaned. "So much for keeping things quiet until your birthday."

Lewis's 39th birthday was just days away, and they'd planned to make the announcement then. Now, it seemed, they'd have to pivot.

"You know what?" Lewis said, pulling Rorie close. "Let's just roll with it. We'll confirm it tomorrow, have a proper celebration on my birthday, and deal with whatever comes our way."

Rorie snuggled into his embrace, feeling the tension start to ebb away. "You're right. We've dealt with worse, haven't we?"

As they lay there, strategizing and stealing kisses, Rorie's phone buzzed. It was Kiki calling.

"Girl, spill the tea!" Kiki's voice rang out as soon as Rorie answered and put her on speaker. "Is it true? Ferrari?"

Lewis chuckled. "News travels fast, huh?"

"You have no idea," Kiki replied. "So, it's legit?"

They spent the next few minutes giving Kiki a rundown of the situation, promising to fill her in on more details later.

After hanging up, Rorie turned to Lewis, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Speaking of Kiki... can you believe she did that to Deja?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You mean the beat down? Yeah, but that's just KiKi."

Rorie shook her head, still in disbelief. "I can't believe she actually did it. I mean, I was thinking about doing it myself, but..."

Lewis burst out laughing. "You? Fighting? Babe, I've seen you stub your toe. You're not exactly Mike Tyson."

Rorie swatted his arm playfully. "Hey! I could totally throw down if I needed to."

Still chuckling, Lewis reached for the room service menu. "Sure, Rocky. How about we order some food instead of planning assaults?"

As they waited for their late-night feast, Lewis's phone pinged. He showed Rorie a photo from his mom, Carmen, of Lyric fast asleep in their Monaco home.

"Looks like he's settling in well," Rorie smiled, a hint of longing in her voice.

Lewis nodded, "Glad that he and Mum are doing well." His mother and Nina seem to have everything under control. The two of them were set for an extended stay in NYC before heading to Brackley for the unveiling of the 2024 season car for the upcoming F1 season.

The knock on the door came just as Rorie's stomach growled, perfectly timed. Lewis answered and wheeled in their feast, the aroma of truffle fries and gourmet burgers filling the suite.

They settled onto the plush sofa, plates balanced on their laps, when Lewis's eyes lit up with that mischievous glint Rorie knew all too well.

"You know," he said, taking a bite of his veggie burger, "this place has got me feeling all sorts of déjà vu."

Rorie glanced around, eyebrow raised. "Yeah? How come?"

Lewis grinned, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. "Babe, this is our old love nest. Same suite we holed up in when we first started dating. Remember? My condo was a construction zone, and we..."

"Oh my god," Rorie cut in, memories flooding back. A smile played on her lips as she recalled those early, heady days. "How could I forget? We barely left this room for a week."

"Mmm," Lewis hummed, pulling her close. "Maybe we should recreate some of those memories, for old times' sake."

Rorie laughed, but there was a glint in her eye. "Another night, maybe. We've got all week, after all."

As they ate, conversation flowed easily, jumping from topic to topic. Rorie found herself sighing wistfully. "You know, I kind of miss that condo. It had the best view of Central Park."

"We could always get another one," Lewis suggested, only half-joking. "Add it to our real estate empire."

Rorie rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Right, because what we need is another home to manage. Speaking of which..." She hesitated, then plunged ahead. "I've been thinking about hiring a personal assistant."

Lewis's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? That's not a bad idea, considering how crazy things have been lately."

"I actually had Yael and Penni screen some candidates a few weeks back," Rorie continued, her excitement growing. "I've already done a couple of interviews. There are two that really stand out."

And just like that, they were off, Rorie detailing the potential assistants, their qualifications, and her impressions. Lewis listened intently, offering his thoughts and asking questions. The conversation meandered, touching on their early days, current challenges, and dreams for the future. The night stretched on, New York City humming below them, a perfect backdrop to their plans and promises.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A couple of days later, the early morning light filtered through the curtains of their suite, casting a warm glow over the room. Rorie stirred, slowly waking up to the gentle sound of Lewis’s breathing beside her, her bonnet slightly askew from her slumber. She turned to find him already awake, his phone in hand, the glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes.

"Happy birthday, babe," she whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Lewis smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he turned to her. "Thanks, love. Best way to wake up."

Rorie grinned, cuddling closer. "How does it feel to be one year older? The big 3-9."

"Like I’m just getting started," Lewis chuckled, setting his phone aside. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But I’ll admit, writing that post took a bit out of me."

"You posted it?" Rorie asked, propping herself up on one elbow, curiosity piqued.

"Just hit send," he nodded, a touch of nervousness in his voice. "It’s official. Everyone knows now."

Rorie gave him a reassuring smile. "I’m proud of you. This is a huge step, but it’s the right one."

Lewis leaned back against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Yeah, it’s been a long time coming. I’ve been with Mercedes for over a decade. But Ferrari… It feels like the right move for the next chapter."

"So, you’re really going to be wearing red, huh?" she teased, her tone light but with a hint of seriousness underneath. "Looks like Lyric needs to start learning Italian now."

Lewis chuckled, pulling her closer. "He's learning French from Nina, might as well add Italian to the list. He’ll be a little polyglot by the time he starts school."

Rorie laughed, imagining their toddler babbling in multiple languages. "Mmhmm, and you’ll be fluent in all of them, trying to keep up."

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, until Rorie’s stomach growled, breaking the peaceful silence. Lewis laughed, his hand brushing her hair away from her face. "Breakfast in bed?"

"Definitely," Rorie agreed, her eyes lighting up. "But after we eat, you should check your phone. I bet the internet’s already buzzing."

Lewis sighed, knowing she was right. He reached for his phone, seeing the notifications already piling up, but he set it back down, choosing to focus on the woman in front of him instead. "The world can wait."

They spent the day in a blissful bubble, ordering room service, lounging around in their plush bathrobes, and indulging in their favorite reality shows. No extravagant parties, no guest lists—just the two of them, savoring every moment.

"Where are you sneaking off to?" he asked, his eyes following her every move.

"Just stay right there," Rorie called back over her shoulder, a playful smile on her lips as she padded across the room.

She disappeared for a moment, and when she returned, she wasn’t wearing her oversized t-shirt and boy shorts anymore. Instead, she’d slipped into something much more revealing—a black lace crotchless lingerie set that hugged every curve of her body. The sheer fabric clung to her skin, the delicate lace tracing the curve of her hips, and the thin straps crisscrossed over her back, leaving very little to the imagination.

Lewis’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her. "Damn, Rorie," he murmured, his voice low and filled with heat.

But Rorie wasn’t done yet. She reached behind her back and pulled out a small box, then from the other hand, a single cupcake that she had secretly ordered from room service earlier. The cupcake was simple—chocolate with a swirl of vanilla frosting and a single candle stuck in the middle.

"Happy birthday, Mr. President," she sang in a sultry voice, channeling her inner Marilyn Monroe as she swayed toward him, the cupcake in one hand and the box in the other.

Lewis’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched her, his mouth curling into a grin. "You really know how to spoil a man."

She placed the cupcake in his lap and then handed him the small velvet box. "I’ve got one more surprise for you."

His curiosity piqued, Lewis opened the box to find a pair of handcuffs nestled inside. His grin widened as he looked back up at her. "Now, this is going to be fun."

Rorie leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Happy birthday, baby. Make a wish."

Lewis held her gaze for a moment, the tension between them thickening, before he closed his eyes and blew out the single candle on the cupcake. When he opened them again, his expression was full of intent. "You know exactly what I want for my birthday," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Rorie giggled, running her hands through his braids. "Oh, I know," she replied teasingly, picking up the cupcake to place it on the bedside table. She then leaned in, their lips meeting in a slow, sensual kiss that quickly deepened, becoming more urgent as their need for each other grew. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles before she pushed him gently back onto the bed. Lewis let her take control, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Climbing onto the bed to straddle his hips, the black lace lingerie barely contained the curve of her ass. The delicate fabric accentuated every inch of her body, and Lewis couldn't help but run his hands along her thighs, marveling at the softness of her skin.

"God, you look incredible," he breathed, his voice husky with desire.

Rorie smiled down at him, her hips moving in a slow, teasing grind against his growing arousal as her fingers slipped into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down.

Lewis watched her, his breath coming in shallow gasps as she took her time, savoring every moment. When she finally freed him, he groaned in relief, his hands gripping her hips as he urged her closer.

But Rorie wasn’t done teasing him. She leaned forward, her hands braced on either side of his head as she kissed him again, her tongue slipping into his mouth to taste him. Then, she pulled back slightly, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "Are you ready for your present?"

Lewis’s answer was a low growl, his hands tightening on her hips. "I’ve been ready all day."

With a wicked grin, Rorie reached for the handcuffs and secured one around his wrist, her movements slow and deliberate, giving him plenty of time to protest if he wanted to. But Lewis didn’t. He watched her with dark, hungry eyes, his teeth biting his lower lip as the anticipation made his pulse race.

Once his hands were cuffed to the headboard, Rorie sat back on his thighs, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before her. Lewis Hamilton, the man who commanded so much power and respect on the track, was now completely at her mercy. And she intended to make the most of it.

She pressed a kiss to his chest, then another, trailing her lips down the hard planes of his torso. Lewis shuddered beneath her touch, his muscles tensing as she moved lower, her mouth leaving a heated trail across his skin.

"Rorie," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Don’t make me beg."

She chuckled softly, her breath ghosting over his abdomen as she glanced up at him. "I love hearing you beg, though."

With that, she took him in her mouth, and Lewis let out a low growl. The sensation of Rorie’s lips and tongue on him was almost too much to handle. He tried to focus on the feeling of euphoria building within him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every movement of Rorie’s head.

He tugged on the handcuffs instinctively, wanting to hold onto something as pleasure coursed through his body. Rorie smiled around him knowing the effect she was having on him. Her mouth worked magic on him, her tongue swirling and sucking with expert precision. Lewis’s hips lifted off the bed, desperate for more as he lost himself in the moment. He could feel the tension building in his core, and he knew he was close. But Rorie seemed to sense it too, because she pulled back suddenly, leaving him panting and aching for release.

"Not yet," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction. "I’m not finished with you."

"Fuck…baby…" Lewis groaned in frustration, his voice thick with need. "What are you—"

His words were cut off as Rorie climbed up his body, straddling him again but this time facing away, causing him to have an eyeful of her pert ass. She reached behind her, teasing him with her touch as she positioned herself over his throbbing erection. Slowly, agonizingly, she lowered herself onto him until he was buried deep inside her.

They both moaned at the overwhelming sensation, Rorie gasping as she took him to the hilt. The feeling of him stretching her so perfectly made her shiver with pleasure. Lewis's hands clenched around the handcuffs, his muscles tensing as he strained to move with her, desperate to match her rhythm but unable to do anything but lie there and take it.

Rorie began to rock her hips back and forth, setting a slow, torturous pace that had Lewis gritting his teeth in frustration. "Please," he begged, his voice raw with need. "I need more."

A soft laugh escaped Rorie’s lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You want more?" she asked teasingly, her voice a seductive purr. "You want me to fuck you harder?"

Lewis's response was a low, primal growl as he bucked his hips up to meet hers, driving himself even deeper inside her. The sudden movement made Rorie moan loudly, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through her body.

She began to move faster, bouncing on his lap with reckless abandon, her moans and the sound of her skin slapping against him filling the room. Lewis’s head fell back against the pillows, his entire body taut with pleasure as he watched her, utterly captivated by the way she moved.

"F-fuck," he groaned, unable to form any other coherent words as she took him closer and closer to the edge. His entire world had narrowed down to the feel of her tight heat surrounding him, the sound of her moans, and the sight of her body moving so perfectly above him.

Rorie’s hands trailed down his thighs, gripping them tightly for support as she rode him with everything she had. Her body glistened with sweat, her hair falling in wild tendrils around her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Lewis felt inside her, the way he was making her feel like she was on fire.

She could feel her own orgasm building, the tension in her body coiling tighter and tighter with each movement. Lewis’s eyes were glued to her, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and adoration that only made her want him more. He loved seeing Rorie like this—uninhibited, wild, and completely lost in the moment.

"God, you feel so fucking good," Lewis groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wanted this to last, wanted to savor every second of it, but Rorie was making it impossible. "You take this dick so well, baby."

She sped up her movements, her moans turning into cries of pleasure as she chased her release, her body moving with a frantic urgency. "Lewis," she gasped, her voice breathless and desperate. "I’m so close…"

"Me too, baby," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet hers with each thrust. "Come with me."

That was all it took. With a final, desperate cry, Rorie’s orgasm crashed over her, her body trembling with the intensity of it. The sight of her coming undone above him, the feel of her tightening around him, sent Lewis over the edge as well. He came hard, his entire body shuddering with the force of his release as he emptied himself inside her.

They stayed like that for a few moments, both of them breathless and trembling from the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. Eventually, Rorie released his hands before collapsing onto the bed beside him, her body still humming with satisfaction. Lewis reached out with his newly freed hands, pulling her into his arms and holding her close.

As they lay there, their breathing slowly returning to normal, Rorie let out a soft, contented sigh. "You might’ve sweated out my silk press," she teased, her voice playful and light.

Lewis chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Worth it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She smiled, snuggling closer to him, her heart full as she closed her eyes. "Definitely worth it," she whispered, her voice filled with love and contentment.

A few weeks later...

The Bahrain sun beat down mercilessly as Lewis strode through the paddock, his race suit unzipped to the waist. The air thrummed with anticipation, mechanics and engineers scurrying about like worker bees.

"Fuck, it's hot," Lewis muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "You sure you two don't want to wait in the air-conditioned hospitality area?"

Rorie shook her head, her newly blonde hair catching the sunlight. "We're good. Right, Lyric? We want to see Daddy off properly."

Lyric nodded enthusiastically, his little hands gripping Lewis's race suit. "Daddy fast car!"

They scanned the Mercedes garage, taking in the controlled chaos around them. C.J. appeared, tablet in hand, his presence a welcome addition to their entourage.

"Rorie," he said, his voice calm amidst the noise, "just a reminder that you have that call with Tommy Hilfiger in two hours. Do you want me to set up in the hospitality suite?"

Rorie nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, C.J. That would be perfect. And can you make sure Lyric's snacks are ready? He's going to need a distraction during the call."

"Already taken care of," C.J. winked, high-fiving Lyric before stepping away to handle the arrangements.

Lewis couldn't help but smile. "I still can't believe how quickly he's gotten a handle on everything. Reminds me of KiKi, but with better organizational skills."

Rorie laughed, the sound carrying over the roar of engines being fired up nearby. "Don't let KiKi hear you say that. She'll have your head."

They stood there for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere. Lewis felt that familiar pre-race buzz coursing through his veins, heightened by the knowledge that this was his last season with Mercedes.

"You nervous?" Rorie asked, reading his expression like an open book.

Lewis shook his head, holding onto Lyric's hands as he wriggled around him. "Nah, just… ready, you know? After New York, I feel like I could conquer the world."

Memories of their New York getaway flashed through his mind. Late nights, room service breakfasts, and days spent tangled in sheets… It had been exactly what they needed before diving back into the madness of the F1 season.

A mischievous glint appeared in Rorie's eyes. "Well, that week was pretty spectacular. Maybe we should make it a pre-season tradition."

"Don't tempt me," Lewis growled playfully, leaning in for a kiss that was perhaps a touch too heated for their surroundings.

"Oi, lovebirds!" Bono's voice cut through their moment. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need our driver in the car, not making out in the paddock."

Lewis chuckled, handing Lyric over to Rorie. "Duty calls. You two behave yourselves, yeah?"

"Us? Always," Rorie grinned, adjusting Lyric on her hip. "It's you we're worried about. Don't go breaking any records today, it's just testing."

"No promises," Lewis winked. With a final kiss, Lewis jogged towards the garage, his mind shifting gears. The unveiling at Brackley, the Vogue party in London - it all felt like a distant dream and now he was preparing for another long season.

As he slipped into the cockpit, the familiar scent of leather and fuel enveloping him, Lewis felt that surge of adrenaline he'd come to love. This was his element, where everything else faded away and it was just him, the car, and the track.

"Alright, Lewis," Bono's voice crackled through the radio. "You ready to show these youngsters how it's done?"

Lewis grinned, revving the engine. "Let's fucking do this, Bono."

As he pulled out of the pit lane, Lewis caught one last glimpse of Rorie and Lyric. Rorie gave him a thumbs up, her decision to step back from social media and focus on family making her presence here all the more special.

Lewis's car disappeared down the track, and Rorie felt the familiar mix of pride and anxiety wash over her. She bounced Lyric gently on her hip, more to soothe herself than him.

"Alright, little man," she said, turning away from the track. "Let's go find C.J. and get ready for Mama's call."

They made their way through the paddock, Rorie nodding and smiling at familiar faces. The F1 world was like a traveling circus, and after years of being part of it, she'd grown accustomed to the rhythm of testing and race weekends, but this year felt different. With Lewis's impending move to Ferrari looming on the horizon, there was an undercurrent of anticipation that seemed to follow them everywhere.

As they entered the air-conditioned oasis of the hospitality suite, Rorie let out a sigh of relief. The Bahrain heat was no joke, and she silently thanked whoever invented air conditioning.

C.J. was already there, his efficiency never failing to impress her. He had a laptop set up, a spread of healthy snacks for Lyric arranged nearby, and was typing away on his tablet.

"Everything's ready, Rorie," he said with a smile as they approached. "I've got the Tommy Hilfiger team on standby for your call in about an hour and a half. Also, I took the liberty of preparing some talking points for the new campaign, if you'd like to review them."

Rorie nodded gratefully. "Thanks, C.J. You're a lifesaver."

C.J. grinned, a hint of sass in his voice. "Just doing my job. Though I do expect a glowing review at my next performance evaluation."

Rorie laughed, appreciating his ability to keep things light even during their hectic schedule. "Keep this up, and you might just get it."

She settled Lyric with his snacks and toys, and her mind wandered to the upcoming campaign. Despite her decision to take a step back from social media, her commitment to her partnerships remained strong. The Tommy Hilfiger collaboration was a big deal, and she was determined to give it her all.

"Mama, look!" Lyric's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He was holding up a crayon drawing of what she assumed was meant to be Lewis's car.

"That's beautiful, baby," she smiled, ruffling his braids. "Should we hang it up for Daddy to see later?"

As she helped Lyric tape his masterpiece to the wall, Rorie caught a glimpse of one of the monitors showing the track. Lewis's car zipped past, a blur of silver against the desert backdrop. She felt her heart rate quicken, a mixture of excitement and worry that she'd grown accustomed to over the years.

"He's looking good out there," C.J. commented, following her gaze.

Rorie nodded, her eyes still on the screen. "Yeah, he is. Last season with Mercedes... he's got a lot to prove."

"Don't they all?" C.J. quipped, earning a chuckle from Rorie.

She turned her attention back to the papers C.J. had prepared, immersing herself in the details of the Tommy Hilfiger campaign. As she read, she couldn't help but reflect on how much her life had changed. From financial analyst to philanthropist and entrepreneur, married to one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time... sometimes it still felt surreal.

"Rorie?" C.J.'s voice broke through her reverie. "The Tommy Hilfiger team is ready whenever you are."

Rorie took a deep breath, centering herself. "Alright, let's do this."

She sat down in front of the laptop, Lyric coloring quietly nearby under C.J.'s watchful eye, Rorie felt a sense of purpose wash over her. She might be taking a step back from the limelight, but she was still very much in the game.

The call began, and Rorie slipped effortlessly into her professional persona, discussing designs, photoshoot concepts, and marketing strategies. As she talked, she could hear the distant roar of engines from the track, a reminder of the two worlds she straddled.

An hour later, as she wrapped up the call, Rorie felt a sense of accomplishment. She'd nailed the meeting, Lyric had behaved perfectly (with some help from C.J.'s expert distraction techniques), and according to the occasional updates from the team, Lewis was putting in some impressive lap times.

"Mama, hungry," Lyric announced as soon as she closed the laptop.

Rorie laughed, scooping him up. "Me too, baby. What do you say we go find some lunch and then see if we can catch Daddy between runs?"

C.J. chimed in, already tapping away at his tablet. "I can have something brought up if you'd prefer to stay in the cool air. Or I've got a list of the best spots in the paddock if you're feeling adventurous."

Rorie considered for a moment, bouncing Lyric gently. "You know what? Let's be adventurous. We've been cooped up in here long enough."

They made their way out of the hospitality suite and into the bustling paddock. The energy was palpable, with teams rushing about and journalists hunting for stories.

As they navigated through the crowd, Rorie spotted a familiar face heading their way. Toto Wolff, Mercedes team principal, approached with a warm smile.

"Rorie, Lyric! How are my favorite spectators doing?" he greeted them, ruffling Lyric's hair affectionately.

"We're good, Toto. Just finished up a call and now on a hunt for some lunch. How's Lewis looking out there?" Rorie asked, unable to keep the hint of concern from her voice.

Toto's smile widened. "He's in top form. You'd never know it was testing, the way he's pushing. But then again, when does Lewis ever take it easy?"

They chatted for a few more minutes, the conversation naturally drifting to the upcoming season and the changes it would bring. As they said their goodbyes, Rorie couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. This would be their last season with Mercedes, a team that had become like family over the years.

"You okay?" C.J. asked softly as they continued their quest for food.

Rorie nodded, plastering on a smile. "Yeah, just... a lot of emotions, you know? But we're here to support Lewis and enjoy the ride. Speaking of which, I think I smell burgers. What do you say, Lyric? Ready for some lunch?"

As they approached the food stalls, the aroma of grilled meat and spices filling the air, Rorie noticed a woman standing near one of the counters. The stranger's gaze was fixed intently on her and Lyric, a little too intensely for comfort.

Rorie leaned closer to C.J., keeping her voice low. "Hey, do you know who that is? The woman in the blue top?"

C.J. glanced discreetly in the direction Rorie indicated, his brow furrowing. "I don't recognize her, but she's got a paddock pass. Must be with one of the teams or media."

Just then, the woman locked eyes with Rorie. A wide smile spread across her face as she began making her way towards them with determined strides.

Rorie felt a flicker of unease, instinctively holding Lyric a little tighter. Before she could react further, her bodyguard, who had been maintaining a respectful distance, smoothly intercepted the approaching woman.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the bodyguard said politely but firmly. "I'm going to have to ask you to step back."

The woman blurted out, "Rorie! I'm Athena... I'm your sister. Well, half-sister."

Rorie felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. She instinctively held Lyric a little tighter, skepticism evident in her eyes.

Athena, sensing Rorie's disbelief, quickly pulled out her phone. "I know this must be a shock. Here, let me show you..." She swiped through a series of recent photos showing her with Martin and two young men. "That's our dad, and those are our brothers, Azariah and Aaron."

Rorie's mind raced, trying to process this unexpected encounter. She glanced at C.J., who looked equally stunned but maintained his professional composure.

"I... I don't know what to say," Rorie managed, her voice barely above a whisper. She studied Athena's face, searching for any family resemblance.

Same nose, same chin. Just like the men in the pictures as well.

Athena's smile faltered slightly. "I'm sorry to spring this on you like this. I've been wanting to meet you for so long, and when I saw you here... I couldn't let the opportunity pass."

Rorie took a deep breath, trying to center herself. "This is... a lot to take in. How did you even get in here?"

"I'm an intern with one of the media teams," Athena explained. "I didn't plan this, I swear. It was just luck."

C.J. stepped closer, his voice low. "Rorie, do you want me to handle this?"

Rorie shook her head, her eyes never leaving Athena. "No, it's... it's okay." She paused, weighing her next words carefully. "Look, Athena, I appreciate you reaching out, but this isn't the time or place for this conversation. There's a lot to unpack here."

Athena nodded, looking crestfallen but understanding. "Of course, I get it. I'm sorry for ambushing you like this. Could we... maybe talk later? When you're ready?"

Rorie hesitated, then nodded. "Give your contact info to C.J. here. We'll be in touch."

As Athena scribbled her details on C.J.'s tablet, Rorie's mind whirled with questions and emotions. This encounter had just added another layer of complexity to an already tumultuous time.

"Mama, hungry," Lyric's small voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her in the present moment.

"Right, baby. Let's get some food," Rorie said, grateful for the distraction. As they turned back to the food stalls, she knew one thing for certain - she and Lewis would have a lot to discuss tonight.

______________________________________________

Lewis looked up from where he was helping Lyric into his pull-up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Sister? Aaliyah's here?"

Rorie shook her head from a nearby armchair, her fingers flying over her phone screen as she scrolled through search results. "No, not Aaliyah. Athena. Apparently, she's my half-sister. Martin's daughter."

"What the fuck?" Lewis muttered under his breath, careful to keep his voice low enough that Lyric wouldn't pick up on it. He finished fastening the pull-up and reached for the lotion. "When did this happen?"

"At the food stalls earlier," Rorie replied, her eyes still glued to her phone. "She just... appeared. Said she's an intern with some media team."

Lewis smoothed lotion over Lyric's skin, his mind racing. "And you're sure she's legit?"

Rorie sighed, finally looking up from her phone. "She had pictures, Lewis. Her with Martin and two guys she said were our brothers. And get this - she's in a master's program for communications in London. Interning with a boutique media agency that covers sports, trying to break into F1."

"Convenient," Lewis remarked, his tone skeptical as he helped Lyric into his pajamas. "Bit of a coincidence, don't you think? Her just happening to be here?"

"My thoughts exactly," Rorie agreed. "I mean, it's the first race of the season. Of course, I'd be here. It feels... I don't know, orchestrated somehow."

Lewis finished buttoning Lyric's pajama top and gestured for Rorie to join them on the bed. She set her phone aside and sat cross-legged on the mattress, creating a little family circle. Lewis reached for the small jar of argan oil pomade they used for Lyric's hair.

As he gently worked the product into Lyric's scalp, careful not to disturb the neat braids, he asked, "What do you want to do about it?"

Rorie watched Lewis's careful movements, a small smile playing on her lips despite her troubled thoughts. She loved these quiet family moments. "I don't know. Part of me is curious, but..."

"But you're worried it's some kind of set-up," Lewis finished for her. He understood her hesitation all too well. Their life in the spotlight had taught them to be cautious, especially when it came to unexpected family appearances.

"Exactly," Rorie nodded. She reached out to hold Lyric's hand, the toddler's eyes already drooping with sleep. "C.J. has her contact info. Told her we'd be in touch."

Lewis finished moisturizing Lyric's scalp and carefully slipped a silky bonnet over the child's head. "Well, we don't have to decide anything tonight. Let's sleep on it, yeah? See how you feel in the morning."

Rorie managed a small smile, grateful for his steady presence. "Yeah, you're right. One crisis at a time, right?"

"Story time!" Lyric suddenly piped up, his sleepy eyes widening with renewed energy.

Lewis chuckled, reaching for the book on the nightstand. "Alright, little man. One story, then bed. Deal?"

They settled in, Lyric nestled between them, as Lewis began to read. It was a familiar tale about a little race car that could, one of Lyric's favorites. Rorie found herself relaxing as she listened to Lewis's soothing voice, the day's stresses momentarily fading away.

As the story came to an end, Lyric's eyes were firmly shut, his breathing deep and even. Lewis carefully scooped him up, and together they carried him to his crib in the adjoining room.

They stood there for a moment, watching their son sleep peacefully. Lewis wrapped an arm around Rorie's waist, pulling her close. "Whatever you decide about Athena, I'm here. We'll figure it out together."

Rorie leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence. "I know. Thank you."

As they made their way back to their own bed, Lewis couldn't help but marvel at the constant curveballs life seemed to throw their way.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[hyperfixatedbastard]

Hi i hope you doing well. I have a resquest... more like a headcanon. What if Adam was a dad ? What his behaviour will be ? Does he be a good or a bad father ?

I understand if you don't do it. I don't want to force you for something you don't want to.

Dadam (Dad!Adam) Headcanons

we bringing out the daddy issues on this one boys

WARNINGS: none

A/N: I haven't done a headcanon type of post yet, but they're easier to write than regular one shots and I'm too tired for that shit. The request didn't specify what kind of Reader (spouse or child), so I just went with general headcanons that don't specify the Reader at all. Insert yourself as you wish!

Also, thank you all for your patience! It's been very busy for me lately and I've been too exhausted to write much, so expect a lot more of these kinds of posts (the formatting is easier and I don't have to write a bunch of dialogue lol).

Dividers

As the father of humanity, Adam had...a lot of kids. The guy lived for 800+ years just populating the earth. That's a LOT of kids. We all know how the first two turned out. That is, not fuckin' well. To be honest, I don't think Adam valued his children. It was just kinda... a thing he had to do. (When Abel died and Cain got exiled, he fr just went and had another kid to replace them.) But I am in deep, deep denial and this is for my enjoyment as someone with severe daddy issues. So fuck all that.

At first, Adam is 100% the guy that freaks the fuck out when he finds out he knocked someone up. That man is SWEATING. He's actually pretty chill if it's someone he's in an established long-term relationship with, though. He still freaks the fuck out, but to a significantly lesser degree and with a much smaller chance of up and leaving. Once he's over the initial shock, he's shocked to find that he's kind of excited. Back when he was alive, having kids was just normal because it was such a common occurrence.

This man knows every little detail about pregnancy and infants. With the amount of kids he's had? He has seen it ALL. Sure, all his information is thousands of years old, but knowledge learned through experience is super valuable when it comes to this shit! He doesn't know what the fuck a uterus is, but he knows exactly how to make his partner the most comfortable, how to deal with cravings, etc. If his partner has a problem, he's got a solution. It might be a fuckin' weird one, but it works! He'll probably grumble and complain, but he doesn't actually mean it. Bitching is just his thing, y'know? But... pregnancy hormones + Adam's douchebag-ness = feelings getting hurt. If his partner starts crying because of some shit joke or complaint he made? He's scrambling so fast. "Shit, babe, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, fuckfuckfuck, don't cry—"

Once the baby is born, he definitely surprises literally everyone but his partner by actually doing helpful shit. Changing diapers? Easy fuckin' peasy (he does watch a tutorial online because he doesn't know how tf modern diapers work but he's a fast learner) Feeding? No problemo. Getting up in the middle of the night to do both of those things? His sleep schedule's already fucked, this shit ain't new.

When it comes to parenting and raising the kid, though... that's definitely where Adam struggles. He'd struggle with bonding. A lot. Adam mostly talks about things that you really shouldn't say around children, much less bond over. I think he'd be better at just letting the kid ramble while he's just sitting there, fully engrossed in whatever bullshit his child is saying. He's not just passively listening with little 'uh-huh's and nods, this man is active in the discussion. Have you ever heard a small child speak? They say the most random shit ever, and Adam would love it. It's peak entertainment to him. Even if it's just incoherent babbling, he'll have full-on conversations with this baby.

He'd definitely have some shared interests as the kid gets older. I think Adam's favorite shows/movies are a mix of action movies and shit like Power Rangers. He's not ashamed of it either—'fuck you, the Power Rangers are fuckin' cool.' This also goes for video games. I know that man is a toxic COD gamer boy and you can't prove me wrong. Basically, the only thing that keeps him from becoming one of those husbands that locks himself away in a man cave to play video games is the fact that he can game with his kid.

And once they get into school, he just gets really invested in the drama. Elementary school drama is such bullshit, and it'd be the best reality TV he's ever seen. "Oh, don't tell me—it's that bitch Cindy. The fuck did that little shit do this time?" He'd be gasping like it's a damn soap opera. 'Oh no she didn't!' kinda vibe.

He'd talk so much shit around his kid about the parents of their classmates, the teachers, anyone. Then the kid would repeat it and Adam would get sat down in the office with his kid like: "Your child said, and I quote, 'My dad says your mom's a bitch.'" "What? She fuckin' is." And yeah, he's not wrong - some of those parents are fucking nightmares.

If his kid got in trouble for fighting, his reaction would depend on the situation. If it was unprovoked and/or a part of bullying, he'd originally laugh it off but would be freaking the fuck out internally. He's probably a little traumatized by what happened with Cain and Abel. But if the fighting was an act of defense (whether of themselves or someone else) he would be the proudest dad ever. Fist-bumps his kid in the office in full view of the principal.

You cannot trust this man to give his kid the sex talk. It just will not go well. Like, if his kid needs advice when they're older (basically anything beyond 'where do babies come from') then he's your guy, but it's still gonna be awkward and uncomfortable. He'd probably have Lute handle most of those issues just so he doesn't have to know about his kid's sex life but can still trust that they have a responsible(?) adult if they have questions.

In terms of where Adam is lacking as a parent, there's a few areas in particular to focus on.

Emotional availability? Not his strong suit. At all. He can't deal with his own feelings, let alone his kid's. Most of the emotional support will be coming from his partner. That doesn't mean he doesn't try. But he can't show it with words all that well. He'll show emotional support in other ways—quality time, gifts, and acts of service for the most part. Like going out for ice cream, watching a movie, etc.

He's not good with discipline. To him, everything's no big deal. If his kid hasn't killed their sibling, that's good enough for him! Generally, his partner will choose when/how to discipline (with Adam's input ofc), but Adam's job is to just enforce it/not overrule it. He's 100% the type to be sneaky about it tho. If his kid is grounded, he'll go out with them to give them a break from being stuck in the house, y'know, stuff like that. Because of this, his kid forms a closer, different kind of bond than with Adam's partner. It's more friendly, I guess is the word? Like, his kid won't go to him for actual helpful advice, but if they fuck up somehow or are in a bad situation that they kinda got themselves into (drinking, car accident, etc.), then Adam is the parent they call.

I think Adam's peak parenting era would be when his kid is a late teen/young adult. 'Cause then he can actually be himself, for the most part. His personality is not very kid-friendly, so once his kid isn't really much of a kid anymore—he is so fucking excited. His relationship with his kid would be a lot more unconventional as they grow older. Like, he's really close with his kid once they're an adult. (totally not basing this off my relationship with my mom) His advice would be shit, but he'd give it if his kid needed it!

Definitely the type to text his kid more often than most parents. Mostly because he texts more like them and has the same sense of humor. Lots of shitty memes.

Also!! I think Adam would definitely make time for his partner. Date nights are a must. His kid better get comfortable with sleepovers at friends' houses or getting babysat by Emily 'cause he ain't letting parenthood fuck up his sex life.

I think that's all I got. Not sure how to end this so uh... shoutout to all you bitches with daddy issues lmao

Taglist: @little-miss-chaoss @fakeguysarehot @3sire-777

[nvrswrld]

Hi there!

so, how about some headcanons of the PJSK boys as Shimeji? Those are like tiny characters that walk, climb and jump all over your screen, and interact with apps and whatever’s happing on your screen! Hope that doesn’t sound to complicated, have a nice day!

Lots of Laugh — FANTASISTA SQUAD

— headcanons: fantasista squad as shimeji

note: thank you for requesting!! this took me a while to make since i've legit never heard of shimeji before this LOL, but i had a whole lotta fun with it, so i hope it's good enough for you. have a nice day as well <3

Akito Shinonome:

dude, out of the whole game, akito is my absolute favorite

i can totally see him just sitting there and eating some sort of sweet desert

like if you have google open, he'd sit on the search bar and watch you type whatever it is that you're searching for while nibbling on cheesecake

if you pick him up and try dragging him somewhere, he will throw a FIT

i can just imagine him kicking his legs with a little text bubble above his head and it's just full of censored swear words

"$!@#*" etcetera etcetera

if he's just standing idle, he's going to be glaring at you most of the time

sometimes he'll pull headphones out and start listening to ken's music, just bopping his head

that's one of the rare times he doesn't look pissed off

he'll fall asleep for like twenty seconds

he'll fall asleep standing up or sitting down

you know those big ass snot bubbles that appear when characters fall asleep?

he'll have one of those

and it'll pop once he wakes up

Toya Aoyagi:

second favorite character

please don't pick him up and drag him, he'll get scared

he'll take a book out of his pocket and read for a bit

he'll sit and clean his violin bow

takes out a little console, like a 3ds, and plays it

will mindlessly nibble on a cookie at random times

sorry this is short, i couldn't think of much for him and i feel like shit for that

Rui Kamishiro:

downloading a plugin where rui can mess around with your device is like downloading a virus

seriously, he will fuck everything up

on purpose

'rui' is literally in the word 'virus' if you mix the letters around a bit

expect random mini explosions

he'll build robots in the span of, like, five seconds and only for it to break down immediately after he finished

he'll make various balloon animals

24/7 smug look on his face

he'll move around all your apps and windows out of spite

makes blueprints for shows

falls asleep and drools on said blueprints

he'll just let you pick him up and drag him, no problem

no matter how far he is from the "ground", he'll always stick the landing

he's just like that

builds a jetpack and starts fucking flying all over the screen

again, he's just like that

Tsukasa Tenma:

no shot he doesn't start doing random poses out of no where

every time he does a lil pose, a star pops up and shimmers

he trips over literally nothing

i can just imagine a bug pops out of no where and he just starts losing his shit

running around the screen with a look of despair on his face

poor guy

if you pick him up, he'll also lose his shit

because who are you to pick up the worlds biggest star like that

if you drop him from a high distance, he'll land flat on his face and stay down for a few seconds

fun fact: i originally put that in for akito, but changed it since it was more fitting for tsukasa

will move windows since they're "in his way" and are "trying to steal his spotlight"

multiplies into fifty different versions of himself because who doesn't want more tsukasas in their life?

written by @nvrswrld

[links-in-time]

Fair Weather Fellows

@torpetavantas asked for a fic where Legend and Twilight' hair changes colour, due to their animal forms and cold weather.

This fic allowed me to explore their relationship a little bit more, as they're a pairing I don't see very often. So thanks for the suggestion, I hope you enjoy this little tail.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Any luck?” Legend asked, trying to stop his teeth from chattering as he looked up. 

Twilight gave his head a forlorn shake as he came closer. Snow dusted his black pelt and had started to soak into his hair, which he tried to shake out. 

“None, this blizzard is too thick and after that mess of a battle the others could have spread out anywhere over this mountain,” Twilight sighed, hands on his hips. 

Legend's shoulders dropped and he held his fire rod that bit tighter. At the moment it was their only source of heat among the pine trees providing what little shelter they could. However, Legend could feel it drawing on his magic reserves and they wouldn't be able to rely on it for much longer. 

Twilight stared around at the sheet of white surrounding their little hollow. His keen eyes scanning for any sign of movement or shelter. But he was faced only by a wall of white. Even the mountain peak which had been visible earlier, had completely disappeared. 

“We can't stay here Lege, we need to find some shelter. I can survive the cold for a while, but I'm not sure you're so well equipped,” Twilight indicated Legend's bare legs. 

“If this is a ploy to get me to wear trousers, it's not going to work,” Legend grinned playfully. “But you're right, if we sit out in this storm much longer we'll both be in trouble. Don't suppose you have any idea which era we're in?”

“Not a clue. Those monsters were a mixed bag so no indicators there, we'll just have to hope we stumble across some civilisation at some point.” 

“So we just wander around in the snow hoping to find some shelter? Sounds like a good way to get us killed!” 

Twilight shot Legend an exasperated look as he pulled his fur cloak from his shoulders. He tossed it to Legend, who caught it with fumbling fingers. 

“Don't you need it?” Legend asked, already feeling the second hand warmth radiating from the dark fluff. 

“I've got another one,” Twilight replied with a crooked smile, before a shower of jet crystals surrounded the hero. 

Twilight shook out his coat and the aches of his transformation before padding towards Legend. The wolf gave a soft boof then turned to look over his shoulder. 

“You want me to get on?” Legend asked, uncertain about this arrangement. 

He was still a little uncomfortable about the fact that Wolfie was his brother Twilight. Legend had been less welcoming of Wild's wolf companion than the others in the first place. His borrowed instincts telling him to stay away from large predators. Then after the revelation that Twilight had been the wolf the whole time, Legend was dubious about the dark magic surrounding his crystal. 

Needless to say, Legend didn't find the idea of riding the wolf particularly appealing. However, the thought of trudging through deep snow with bare legs was even less so. With a sigh, Legend threw Twilight's cloak around his shoulders and put away his fire rod. In a few hops he managed to climb up onto the wolf’s back. 

Twilight only waited a moment to make sure Legend had a good enough grip on his fur before he was off. With his heightened senses the mountain came alive with scents and sights invisible to his Hylian eyes. There were deer trails and bear signs, but very few recent tracks. The constant snow having covered them up. 

Legend of course saw none of this. He decided to hold onto Wolfie for dear life and bury his face in Twi's fur. The rocking motion of Twilight's strides was uncomfortable and verging on nauseating. Legend was reminded of the feeling he got when he used the tornado rod, jostled about at something else's whim. He just hoped Twilight would find them some shelter sooner rather than later. 

***

“I think this is a good spot,” Legend shouted over the rushing wind. 

He emerged from the narrow cave to find Wolfie still on guard by the entrance, but he turned his head when Legend approached. 

“We can pack snow around the entrance to make it smaller and stop the wind getting in, but it will do for now to get us out of the elements. Are you going to…?” Legend's question trailed away as Twilight answered it. 

As he turned around, Legend watched the last shadow crystals fading away as Twilight stood up on two legs. 

“Why do you stare like that?” Twi asked. “You have an animal form too, is mine so odd to you?” 

“It's not that, look, don't worry about it. Let's just get inside and get a fire going.” Legend dodged Twilight's question and turned back towards the cave. 

Troubled by his companions' behavior, Twilight followed Legend at a distance, making sure not to crowd the smaller hero in the narrow cave. They quickly set about making a campfire and worked together to block up the entrance to the cave with hard packed snow. 

“My hands are freezing!” Legend shuddered, holding them close over the flickering flames. 

“You want some spare clothes?” Twilight offered. 

“I've got a blanket,” Legend replied stiffly. “We should probably take it in turns to sleep, make sure we aren't found by monsters or wolfos.”

“Agreed. Rock leaf blade to see who goes first?” 

Legend sighed, they often settled small decisions like this with the children's game. 

“Okay, on three, and no best of three like Wind plays it either.” 

“Alright, one, two, three.”

The two boys slapped their fists against their palms in time with the count until Twilight reached three. Legend kept his hand curled into a fist, while Twilight held out two fingers. 

“Rock beats sword, you're taking the first watch,” Legend announced, with a satisfied wiggle. 

“Fine, get some sleep, Lege, I'll wake you in a few hours.”

Legend was more than happy to oblige as he wrapped himself up in his thickest blanket, making sure to tuck in all his limbs. Laid down on his bedroll, as close to the fire as possible, Legend closed his eyes and willed for sleep to claim him quickly. Meanwhile, Twilight gently touched the crystal hanging from his neck and shifted back into wolf form. The now familiar ache and pain of his transformation exacerbated by the frigid cold. Shaking his shaggy fur to fluff himself up, Twilight padded over to the entrance to their little sanctuary and sat down to peer out at the cold world beyond. 

***

It had been mid afternoon when the Chain had been split up. Twilight gave Legend until what he deemed midnight before he decided to wake him for his turn on watch. Wrinkling his nose and letting out a long yawn, Twilight rose and walked back towards the fire. Though his thick fur kept him nice and warm in such conditions, the heat of the fire was extremely welcoming to his extremities. 

Twilight started to focus his thoughts into transforming back into his Hylian form, deciding Legend wouldn't appreciate being woken by a giant wolf in a strange cave. However, when he saw Legend shivering on the ground, he hesitated. 

The slender teen had done his best to wrap himself up snug and tight, but clearly one blanket and a dwindling fire wasn't enough. Legend's teeth chartered and his eyelids flickered every now and then. With his blanket pulled all the way up to his nose his boots stuck out at the other end. Clearly he was uncomfortable and cold, but Twilight wasn't sure what the best thing to do would be. 

He didn't want to wake Legend only for him to have to sit and shiver through the night on watch. The Captain would probably berate them both for not setting a watch, but the Captain wasn't there. Legend was cold and exhausted and Twilight could only do so much. 

Deciding to lend his own body heat to the problem, Twilight curled himself around Legend's back. He just prayed he wouldn't give the vet a heart attack when he woke up. 

***

“Mnn,” Legend moaned, as he drifted back into the realm of consciousness. 

As soon as he realised he was awake however, he decided he wanted to go back to sleep. His body tingled with warmth and comfort, something this adventure had been sorely lacking. The last time he remembered feeling this cosy, he had been sitting beside his fiancé in front of a roaring fire, a cup of his favorite tea warming his hands. 

Right now however, despite his desire to drift back to sleep, Legend was curious to know why he was so warm. And why Twilight had apparently neglected to wake him for his watch. Legend focused his eyes a little better and found the campfire was close to burning itself out. Only a few smoldering coals remained from the branches and sticks he had piled on before going to sleep. 

Alarmed that their heat source was about to go out, Legend rolled free of his blanket and quickly stacked some small sticks on top of the embers to bring the fire back to life. 

“What gives Rancher?! You almost let the fire go out!” Legend began to reprimand his companion, as he turned around. “What the…!” 

Legend fell back onto his hand as Wolfie’s sleeping form met his gaze. The dark creature opened its jaws unnaturally wide as it yawned and clicked its tongue. Twilight looked around bleerily at the sudden exclamation, his eyes quickly finding Legend staring back at him. Though the Vet was alarmingly close to the fire and Twi was concerned he might fall backwards and hurt himself. 

“Woo,” Twilight mewled softly, nodding at the fire then Legend. 

“You nearly scared me half to death!” Legend replied. “Why are you Wolfie?”

In his current form Twilight could understand his brothers well enough, but was unable to speak back to them. After considering for a moment, he shifted, instantly feeling the chill of the cave as his fur disappeared. 

“Sorry Lege, I was going to wake you in the night, but you were so cold I was afraid you might freeze to death if I didn't keep us both warm. I'm sorry I frightened you.”

“You should have woken me up Rancher, I would have been just fine. I've dealt with the cold plenty of times. You don't have to fuss over me like I'm a child.”

“I wasn't fussing, I was just worried,” Twilight insisted, pushing himself to his feet. 

“Well you can save your worry for someone who needs it. I need to go take a leak.” Legend brushed himself off as he stood and walked towards the mouth of the cave. 

Twilight was about to warn Legend that it was still frigid and dangerous outside, but given the Vet’s prickly nature this morning, he decided against it. 

***

“No sign of anyone?” Legend asked, as Twilight squeezed himself back through the cave mouth. 

“None. Wherever we are it's not a well trodden area. There's no sign of the rest of the boys either. Looks like we're stuck up here until the weather clears up,” Twilight sighed, shrugging snow from his shoulders and shaking it from his hair. 

“Hmm, the news just keeps getting better!” Legend scoffed. “You've still got snow in your hair by the way.”

Twilight ran his hands through his hair once more, but he couldn't feel any more snowflakes clinging to his locks. Maybe Legend was just messing with him. After being trapped on the icy mountain for over a week, they were both beginning to get cabin fever. 

“What's for supper?” Twilight asked, pulling off his wet cloak and picking up a blanket instead. 

“I'll give you three guesses!” Legend said in a tired voice, as he poked at the pot over the fire. 

“Mmm, ration stew, my favorite!” Twilight replied in an exaggerated faux excitement. 

Rations had been Warriors’ idea. Each time they were able to stock up on supplies, each of the boys took enough to last them a few days on their own in the wilderness, in case they got separated. Legend and Twilight had estimated their joint supplies would last them another week or so at their current rate. After that, they would either have to hope the seemingly endless storm would finally blow over, or they could at least hunt some food. 

As Twilight plonked himself on the ground beside the fire and rubbed his hands over the flames, Legend's hair caught his eye. 

“You been outside while I was gone?” He asked. 

“Huh?” Legend looked up from the stew. 

“Your hair,” Twilight said, pointing at Legend's lop-sided fringe. “The pink bits are all white, like it's got frost on it or something.”

“What are you talking about? I haven't been out…” Legend frowned, putting down his spoon to examine his hair. 

As he lifted the lock to his face however, he stopped short. Twilight wasn't exaggerating. At least six inches of Legend's hair had turned a brilliant white. Definitely the hair itself, not frost touched as Twilight had suggested. 

“Huh, that's probably concerning, right?” 

“I don't know, I always thought the pink was pretty strange to be fair,” Twilight shrugged unhelpfully. Not that he could think of anything else to say. 

“Well whatever it is, you've got it too. And weren't the marks on your face black before?” 

“What?!”

Legend rummaged in his pack and pulled out a small hand mirror which he tossed towards Twilight. Catching the small disk and holding it up to his face, Twilight's brow creased as his eyes widened. Large strands of his dark blond hair had turned white, just as Legend's had. Alarmingly the Vet was right about the mark on his forehead and cheek bones too. The Twili eye, a mark of his cursed form, had changed from charcoal gray to brightest white. 

“Fuck!” Twilight exclaimed, holding the mirror closer to his face to get a better look. 

“Something in this area must be affecting us somehow,” Legend said sagely. 

“D’you think…” Twilight trailed off, his mind racing. “Hang on a second.”

Before Legend could object, Twilight grabbed his crystal and shifted. As the shards of twilight faded around the wolf, Legend raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, that's interesting. Um, Twilight, you're going white.” Legend said tentatively. 

Twilight frowned and lifted a paw to inspect his fur. Just as Legend said, the dark gray colour had faded away to an almost pure white. Though there were still dark patches, Twilight's pelt was definitely in the process of changing colour. Concerned eyes met Legend's as Twilight lifted his head and let out a soft whine. 

“I don't think it's something we need to worry about. Unless it's permanent of course,” Legend sighed, still fiddling with his own hair. 

As his gaze drifted from Twilight back to himself a thought began to form. A possible explanation to what was happening to them. Legend sighed deeply. 

“Can… can you transform me while you're like that? Or do I have to touch the crystal?”

Twilight did his best approximation of a shrug while he tilted his head to one side. 

“I'm gonna take that as an ‘I have no idea’!” Legend chuckled, uncrossing his legs as he pushed himself up. “Let me try something.”

Twilight padded forwards and Legend held out a hand, which he softly placed on Twilight's forehead. Right over the now black mark on his head. Twi's fur was warm beneath Legend's fingers, and though instinct tugged at his insides that this was a predator, Legend fought to keep his focus. 

Legend wasn't sure what he was doing, but he had an idea. Reaching out with his own magical awareness, he searched for the Twili magic that had transformed his brother. It was difficult to distinguish between Twilight's own innate magic and the power of the Twili crystal. They seemed so intertwined and integral to one another. 

In that moment of connection, Legend finally understood why Twilight coveted the crystal and the power it bestowed upon him. Their ranch hand often spoke of the Twilight Princess he had fallen for, without being able to declare his love. Since the crystal was his only remaining connection to the Twilight Realm, there was no wonder he enjoyed being in his wolf form so much. 

When Legend opened his eyes Twilight loomed over him as though he had grown twice his size. Looking down of course it wasn't Twilight who had grown, but Legend who had shrunk. 

“Huh, he looks a bit like candy floss!” Twilight thought to himself. 

Legend suddenly froze, an action which had nothing to do with instincts or the cold. Slowly, he turned his head to stare at the wolf standing beside him. 

“Did you just…? Did I just… hear you speak?” He uttered, voice almost stuck in his throat. 

“Wait? You can understand me like this?!” Twilight exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice as he lowered his head. 

“Um, yeah, I can understand you perfectly. Your voice is a bit deeper like this, but you still sound like yourself Twi.” Legend replied 

“Wow, the only person I've ever been able to talk to in this form was, Midna,” Twilight still sounded thrilled, but his tone changed as he said Midna’s name. 

“No one else understands you like this?” Legend frowned, which in his current form Twilight thought was adorable. 

“Well I've always been able to talk to other animals, maybe that's why you can hear me? Maybe it's an animal thing more than a crystal thing?”

“Perhaps. Wait, did you say I looked like cotton candy?!” Legend suddenly exclaimed, crossing his tiny forelegs.

“Yes, sorry. I didn't know you would hear that.” Twilight replied sheepishly. 

Feeling a little more relaxed, Twilight sat back on his hind legs, his tail wagging softly behind him. 

“Right. So, your markings have almost completely reversed,” Legend mused, taking a few steps forwards. “The bits that were dark are now going white and the white bits are sort of gray.”

“Really?” 

Twilight tried to look back on himself to get a look at his coat, but one thing he had always found as a wolf was that he could hardly see his own form. Realising Twilight's struggle, Legend picked up the mirror off the ground and held it up. In his tiny fury paws the mirror felt huge, covering his entire head. 

“Wow, I look… Really different,” Twilight uttered, as he observed what he could see of himself in the tiny mirror. “I hardly recognise myself!”

“You still look like a big dumb beast to me!” Legend scoffed. 

“And you really do look like candy floss! Especially that fluffy little tail of yours, all pink and white swirls.” Twilight teased, baring his teeth. “I could just eat you all up, probably wouldn't take more than a few bites.”

Enjoying his game, Twilight began to stalk towards the pale rabbit. Mischief and hunger in his eyes. He lowered his body to the ground as though about to pounce. 

“Perhaps I'll have a candy rabbit for supper instead of rations tonight?”

Legend's heart beat was racing. He could feel it pounding against his small rib cage. His nose twitched, taking in every scent emanating from Twilight. But curse his rabbit's heart for making it impossible to figure out what to do. His eyes darted left and right, searching for escape. 

Twilight shifted in his peripheral vision and Legend panicked. He turned on the spot and dove beneath the blankets in an attempt at hiding. Burying himself so completely that Twilight lost sight of him. 

“Vet?!” Twilight huffed a laugh. “Legend? Hey, are you okay? I'm sorry if I scared you. I just wanted to have some fun.” 

No response came from the pile of blankets, save for a faint shivering. Twilight let out a deflated sigh, perhaps he had taken his joke too far. After all, Legend had been cautious of Twilight in his wolf form when he was a Hylian. Only Spirits knew how he felt about Twi in his rabbit shape. 

Twilight dropped down to the ground, pressing his chin against the floor of the cave. He puffed out a breath through his nose before nudging the lump under the blankets. 

“Legend,” said Twilight in his softest voice. “I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Well, maybe I did a little bit. I guess my instincts in this form are pretty strong. But I really don't want you to be scared of me. You're my brother and I only want you to be happy, I don't want you to think of me as a big scary monster. So please come out and talk to me.”

It took several minutes for the blankets to stir. Twilight waited patiently as two white ears appeared on the other side of the bed roll, followed by a pair of violet eyes and a tiny black nose. Legend's eyes were still wide and wary, and they never left Twilight as he emerged from the safety of his cover. 

“For a minute there, I really thought you were going to hurt me,” Legend breathed. His heart still racing as he struggled to calm his breath. 

“I would never hurt you, Legend, I was being stupid. I'm so sorry I scared you. Please believe I would never wish you harm, no matter how I look.” Twilight insisted, a shard of ice forming in his heart at the stare which Legend fixed on him. 

“I… I know you wouldn't hurt me. I do. It's just, when I'm in this form, it's like I can't control my instincts. I hate being a rabbit. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable. Can't believe you got turned into a wolf.”

Legend crossed his forelegs again and turned away. His left ear twitched in frustration and Twilight could sense Legend's emotions coming off of him in waves. 

Great, as if he didn't feel guilty already. 

“Lege, I… I don't know why our forms are so different. But you are definitely selling yourself short. You should see just how fast you can run, it's impressive. I can only run fast for a short time before I get exhausted. And it's clear your senses are far stronger than mine. You keep twitching your ear like you're listening to something. I'm guessing you're listening to the storm outside?”

“It's loud and annoying, kinda like you,” Legend scoffed. 

“In any case, you shouldn't compare yourself to me. You've done and seen so much Lege, I had one adventure and I had so much help doing everything. Without Midna I never would have succeeded in saving Zelda and the Twilight Realm. Without this form and her power, I never would have made it. 

         But you, you've been on so many quests I've lost count of all the stories you've told us. Even if you were weak and vulnerable, which you are not, surely being a hero of courage means overcoming those obstacles. Which you have done ten times more than the rest of us.”

“Hmm, I guess you have a point. Courage not being the absence of fear and all that.”

Legend paused and sighed. The fire was dying again. During their shenanigans they had both neglected to keep it going. Even through his fur Legend could feel the air in the cave steadily growing cooler. 

“We should change back and get the fire going again.”

“Um, about changing back.” Twilight said slowly. 

“Urgh, I totally forgot about that. Don't suppose you've come across any moon pearls since the last time I was like this?” Legend groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he tapped his foot on the floor. 

“No, sorry. I should have said something earlier, but I forgot you can't change back on your own. But since we're kind of warmer like this anyway, I'll stay like this until we can get out of here.” Twilight insisted, sitting up again and giving his head a firm nod. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive, I like being Wolfie. And I have no idea if this colour change thing will ever happen again. I kinda like it.”

“Its probably because of the weather,” Legend sighed. 

As he spoke he began pulling the blankets into more of a pile together. Twilight stood up and joined him, lending his teeth to the effort. Teeth which Legend found he no longer flinched at the sight of. 

“Wha do ou mean t wever?” Twilight asked with a mouthful of blankets. 

“In my time there are hares that live on the snowy peaks. During the summer when there's less snow on the ground, their coats are brown to disguise themselves. But in the winter when it gets colder, their fur changes to white so they can blend in with the snow cover.”

“Thats really clever. Goats do something similar by shedding their thicker wool during the summer. But I've never known of a colour changing creature before. That's so cool.”

“Yeah, well, looks like we are now thanks to these forms,” Legend sighed un-enthusiatically. 

He plonked himself down on the edge of the blankets beside the fire and picked up a few sticks to throw onto the pile. A few sparks flew up but the fire barely changed. Twilight decided to help and picked up a larger branch in his teeth, adding it carefully to the fire. With the extra fuel the flames began to grow once more, adding a little more warmth to their little haven. 

“I know I've said your rabbit form is cute, but it's also pretty cool. You know I like animals, and having a brother who can turn into one is pretty great.”

Twilight stared at the fire for a moment, the orange light dancing in his dark blue eyes. Legend watched Twilight. No longer petrified of the blue eyed beast, instead finding his presence comforting. 

“I always saw it as more of a curse. But seeing how you use yours to your advantage, how you thrive in your wolf form, makes me think maybe I was wrong.”

“How long do you think we'll be stuck on this mountain?” Twi asked, shifting the conversation in a new direction. 

“Who knows? Nayru can be a stubborn bitch, maybe she'll keep this storm up for another month!” Legend exclaimed, tucking his legs under his body as he tried to stay warm. 

“Well, if we are stuck up here for another month, we'll work together to survive. Right?” 

“Yeah Twi, a white rabbit and a white wolf, alone in the wilderness!” Legend chucked, though the idea warmed his heart. 

Perhaps being stuck in his rabbit body wouldn't be so terrible this time. 

***

“Guys! I think I found them!” Wild's voice echoed off the surrounding trees. 

Twilight quickly shook off the drowsiness of sleep and was instantly alert. Legend, who was snuggled up between Twilight's legs, was slower to react. 

“Hey guys, we found you at last. Are you both okay?” Wild continued to talk as he forced his way into the small cave. 

“Ah shit!” Legend exclaimed when he realised who was talking, and what he looked like. 

“It's alright, they'll be fine about it, I'll make sure of it,” Twilight assured him, as he slowly pushed himself up onto four legs, careful not to jostle Legend too much. 

Twilight shifted back into Hylian form and asked Wild if Sky was with him. Unfortunately Sky was with another search party and Wild only had Four and Time with him. With a sigh, Legend allowed Twilight to pick him up and carry him from the cave. 

“Whoa Twi, what happened to your hair?!” Four remarked, unable to keep himself from pointing. 

Twilight could guess what he looked like, his usually shaggy hair as white as the surrounding snow. It had been a boon for him while he'd been out hunting for boar. Now however, it seemed to make him stand out. 

“Wait, where's Legend, and why do you have a rab…” Time began, however while he spoke his brain worked quicker than his mouth. 

He stared open mouthed at the creature cradled in Twilight's arms. Its fur was as starkly white as Twi's hair, but the little tunic it wore was still bright red. 

“Is that? How is that…? What happened to him?” Time fumbled. 

“Calm down Old Man, there's plenty of time to explain. Yes I'm a rabbit, no it's not a bad thing, yes our hair is white, it's probably because the climate is so cold and our bodies reacted to it. Any more questions?” 

Legend stared around at the small circle of boys surrounding him and Twilight. All of them seemed just as dumbfounded, and unable to stop gawping at him. 

“Right, good. Now can we please get off this damn mountain and find Sky, so I can change back!” 

[delespresso]

DESERVING ━━ Antonio Dawson x fem!reader

author's note; this one has been in my drafts for a while and honestly i have mixed feelings about it. but oh well, i might as well just put it out lol enjoy <3

summary; antonio had only ever been casual with her, but called it quits a while ago. only to come back after a rough case, finally realising it wasn't so casual after all

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Molly's wasn't as crowded that night. She sat at the bar, nursing a drink in her hand as she rested her head in her palm with her elbow on the bartop. After a long day of back-to-back surgeries at Med, all she needed was a drink to wind down.

For the past couple of months, that drink was with some company. Tonight, it went back to the usual routine.

She wasn't sure where any of it went wrong. She hardly even realized there was anything wrong, really. Maybe it just wasn't right.

She took a large swig of her drink at the thought. The only thing that kept her mind off him had been her patients. Now that she didn't have that, she zeroed back into him without wanting to.

He'd consumed her entirely in the short months they were together. She should've known better. Getting involved with a man recently divorced – what was she thinking?

It felt so good to just be wrapped up in someone after long, awful shifts. And it was a win-win situation. She wasn't the only one benefiting from it.

Refusing to sit at the bar any longer, she shot her drink down in one go and left some cash on the bar. Usually she'd be chatting with Hermann before she left. Not tonight.

She didn't want to drive after that. Maybe she'd only had about two glasses, but she didn't want to take any chances. So she walked. She'd take her car in the morning.

Her apartment was just down the block anyway. It hardly took her more than five minutes to get back there.

Fiddling through the keys in her hands, she turned down the hallway towards her door. Stopping short when she looked up, very nearly dropping her keys.

“Antonio?”

Her voice came out uncertain.

He turned instantly. His fist dropped, he was just about to knock on her door.

For a moment the man just stood there and looked at her. He put his hands back into the pockets of his coat, rocking on his heels slightly as he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Hearing his voice again seemed to sober her up suddenly – if she was even that tipsy in the first place. The last time they'd spoken to each other was three weeks ago. The time he hit the brakes on what they had.

“Hi,” she nodded.

Antonio hesitated. He dropped his gaze for a second, before shrugging lightly.

“Look, I uh–”

He met her gaze. She hadn't moved an inch. They were facing each other in the hallway of the apartment.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he admitted gently. “It's been a… rough day.”

She nodded slowly. It had been a rough day, for sure.

Bomb threats all over important locations in the city. Police stations, schools, hospitals – Chicago Med was the very last. They may have mostly been a hoax, but Intelligence didn't take it lightly.

Antonio's team was all over it. The second one of those bombs was real, dropped off at the park just within half a mile radius from Chicago Med – they went head first to find the perp. He ran with his team to investigate it all, while she was busy rushing the victims through surgery.

“It was,” she agreed. “It was rough.”

The keys tapped along her palm lightly as she looked at him. Neither of them seemed to be able to tear their gazes away.

“And how are you?” she then asked softly.

Antonio only stared at her. He looked tired. Like he always did after long cases like this one. These bomb hoaxes had been going on for weeks. It was only today that something truly happened.

And while they haven't found the perp, he took a small step back and let his team play their part as well.

“I've been better,” he replied.

She let out a slow breath. Holding the key in one hand, she gestured to her door lightly.

“Wanna come in?” she offered.

She wasn't sure why she did that. If it was even a good idea after everything.

After all, it was him who said they should stop. That it wasn't the right time for either of them. That they should probably work out their own careers first.

Antonio took a beat. His lips parted to speak as he looked at her, then he glanced at her door.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

She only stepped past him in response, unlocking her door and stepping in. Holding the door open to the side, she gestured for him to enter.

The place was just like he remembered. Although, he doubted much would change in merely three weeks. They ended up standing on two different sides of her kitchen counter, a bottle of beer in each of their hands.

Antonio glanced around the place, his fingers lightly tapping on his beer bottle.

“You finally got the heater to work,” he commented.

She'd been having an issue with her heater forever, it felt like. But now as he stood there, he realized it was warmer here despite the cold outside.

She hummed, nodding as she took a sip of her beer.

“I got a new one,” she replied. “Nothing lasts forever, right?”

Their eyes met. Something about what she said made them both pause and think. She didn't mean to imply anything, but she noticed what she did a second too late. Her eyes dropped and she took another sip of her beer, no longer knowing what to do with herself.

Antonio was just as bad. But he did know how he felt, at least.

“We were good together,” he spoke softly, breaking the sudden silence.

She paused. His words were like a wound in salt.

He knew he shouldn't. He shouldn't be pushing after he was the one that had broken her. But he couldn't stop himself. Suddenly he was around the counter, beer bottle abandoned as his hand reached up to cup her cheek.

When she looked up at him it was with those same doe eyes he fell for. The ones that made his blood rush and heart pumping. The ones that felt like a breath of fresh air after being cooped up for so long.

“I messed up. And instead of fixing it, I made it worse,” he told her. “And I'm sorry. I don't say it as often as I should, but I'm telling you and I mean it. I'm sorry.”

The words hung heavy in the air for a moment as she simply stared up at him with her soft, tender eyes. There was a clear hurt still in them and it made his heart clench.

“I don't deserve you. I really don't. But God if you let me, I'm willing to put in the work. To be the man deserving of you. I just… I just need your word. And your time of day.”

When he continued, she didn't even notice the way her eyes watered. This was the most vulnerable this man had ever been with her. Her heart was thundering as she realised she never got over him. And she knows she never will.

She didn't say a word. She didn't give him an answer, not verbally. Instead, her hands reached up for his jacket to tug him down gently so their lips could meet.

And when she kissed him it was with everything she had. It wasn't lustful or hungry. It was pure love and desire. A yearning that never once faded.

When he kissed her back, she knew then. It was undeniable — she was his. And he was undoubtedly hers.

liked this tale? be a member and buy me some coffee!

[echo-rambles]

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself. 

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone. 

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha 

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy. 

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months. 

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse. 

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me 

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse. 

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste. 

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do. 

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning. 

-lol hey good afternoon 

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication? 

Yeah, definitely none of that. 

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter. 

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses. 

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text. 

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself. 

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table. 

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-” 

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face. 

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately. 

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?” 

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling. 

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” 

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting. 

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away. 

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend. 

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages. 

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly. 

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha 

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful. 

“Seriously, shut up.” 

“You came here asking for my opinion!” 

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt. 

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak. 

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz. 

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady. 

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it. 

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 

You should say something though, right? Right? 

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much. 

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated. 

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.” 

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you. 

You definitely need to talk about this. 

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this. 

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks. 

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

[itsjustwincest]

I'm gonna need some fic recs from you. I just know you'll know the kinda wincest I need 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Hi, anon! Sorry it took so long for me to respond to this, I was filtering through all of my stuff to decide what I was going to recommend first. A lot of these are kind of classic ones to read. They've all gotten a lot of hits, and for a really good reason.

I'll post more recs in the future, especially hidden gems, and maybe a list of Dead Dove (like, the dove died, was resurrected, and died again) kind of content, because I have a lot of those to reccommend, too.

All of these are rated E. Most of the things I've bookmarked are, ngl, but if you want some T or below fics, I'd be happy to do a list of those, too!

First up is The Little Spoon by leonidaslion. This is an established relationship fic. It's 2k words and is the perfect mix of adorable and slightly smutty. To his horror, Sam discovers that he's a stealth!snuggler.

Next is, in my opinion, a Must Read. It's Couples Counseling by MsImpala67. It's a getting together fic, which I have a particular fondness for, especially those involving a fake relationship, like this one. What better way to investigate a marriage counselor (who may or may not be responsible for the death of six of her clients) than to go to marriage counseling? It's just pretend right? No different than putting on the FBI suits. Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan, and Sam and Dean quickly get more than they bargained for. It's 18k words over 10 chapters, and very worth the read.

Fragments by arclucifer666 is a one shot. The smell of sex is still in the air, and all these memories are making his cock swell up. And he hopes there will be one more round before his guest leaves. Don't open this one in public, there is a porny gif at the end. Little bt of fluff, luttle bit of soft sex. CW for somnophilia.

I don't often do AUs, but A Fire Ever Burning by BewareTheIdes15 is a fun read. It's based on the world of Pern, which you don't need to be familiar with to read. It is a dragon riding AU that kept me absolutely invested from beginning to end. It's 16 k words of charming for anyone with a love for the fantastical. Sam and Dean have always been oddities among the dragonriders; the youngest man to Impress a Bronze dragon in a hundred years and a boy who turned his back on the riders to become a dragon healer instead. But when fate steps in a chooses a far different path for Sam, the brothers and all the Weyrs of Pern will have to come to terms with much greater changes in their traditions.

I want to add a bajillion more, but I am going to limit myself to two. I'm realizing I have a lot of Sam/Dean/other, but I will do those on another list.

I have to throw an ABO and a case fic in, so I'll give you a twofer. Opus Amore by Skylee is all of my favorite tropes wrapped up in one. Sam and Dean go undercover at a couples retreat for Alphas and their Omegas to root out a monster. Dean hates being an Omega so the fact that he'll have to openly be one and stop taking his suppressants pisses him off. Still, the more they pretend to be a happy Omega and Alpha couple, the more he starts to think that maybe being an Omega isn't so bad, not if Sam is his Alpha. It's all of my favorite tropes. Hesitant Omega Dean, fake relationship, getting together, clever monster hunt. 31k words over 17 chapters and I'm ngl, I read this in one sitting.

Finally, last but certainly not least, The Truth In The Lie by flawedamythyst. It's another fake relationship case fic. The side characters are fun, the hunt is fun, it's just another all around awesome read. Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia.

There you have it. My first ever wincest fic recommendations. As I said before, all of these are well-loved on AO3, with good reason. I want to do more of these lists, especially if any of you have something specific you want to read.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Don't knock it till you try it

Masterlist

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU. I needed to make the road trip scenario plausible.)

Summary: Your friends Walter and Sy have offered to drive you home for the summer, and you have decided to turn it into a nice relaxed camping trip on the way...

Word count: 9146 (yes, really...)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), masturbation (f), smug and dirty talking Sy, sex in a tent, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), silly bets, and an astonishingly solid bromance. I think that's all, but call me if I missed any.

A/N: I've finally really stopped hurting the boys and now we're just going for some nice relaxed sex in a goddamn tent, dammit! Also yeah I'm going to keep imagining the boys in college until the day I die, I don't know why (maybe because I'm young), but just... idk, read it as a memory or something? idk :')

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

You were not – by a long shot – the first girl to see the backseat of the beat-up chevy pickup you were sitting in. Fact. A fact so factual, in fact, that Sy hadn’t complained when you demanded he put a blanket down for you to sit on, which told you more than you really wanted to know.

Now, your eyes kept drifting shut to the sound of tires on asphalt and the bickering of soothing baritone voices in the front seat. The outside world consisted of mountain views and clear blue skies, and the fresh breeze of early summer that worked just hard enough to raise goosebumps on skin, but inside this rusty old vehicle the atmosphere was dominated by two pairs of broad shoulders, deep voices, and what you always mockingly referred to as ‘disgusting man sweat’ – always hoping neither of them would ever find out how often you dreamt of licking those salty droplets off their abs after a workout.

Both of them had shown up, first semester, in a class they didn’t have a prayer of passing, and you’d been teamed up with them because of what you then thought to be a hideous trick of fate. Somehow, you whipping them into shape for that tutorial hadn’t put them off you, and what started as whatever the educational equivalent of ‘frenemies’ is, turned into study buddies and eventually friends. The only downside to your friendship was that you chronically had to explain to your entire dorm that, no, you weren’t sleeping with either of them – let alone both of them.

As you still toed the line between asleep and awake, a heavy hand on your knee – belonging to Walter – made a decision for you in favor of consciousness.

“We’re hungry,” he said.

“You’re always hungry,” you grumbled as you reached for the bag of food and snacks on the other side of the backseat. It was a good thing they didn’t bother to deny it, because you would have strangled them both. God forbid you ever left a bag of Doritos out in your dorm. Seconds! Gone!

Sy had the stones to ask for a tuna sandwich. Absolutely the fuck not!

“I’m not opening that bag in this car, Sy.” It already smelled like stale beer and weed in there. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’re not allowed to smoke on campus, so this is our only option’ way. That said, adding tuna to the mix would be a complete disaster.

“Suit yourself,” he snapped. You rolled your eyes. For the love of God, it was all of ten minutes past feeding time! Walter snickered as he held out a hand. Turkey on wheat for Walter, BLT for Sy, mozzarella pesto for you. You’d splurged on groceries, because the boys had offered to take the lion’s share of the drive.

“We were thinkin’ of callin’ it a day soon, sugar.” They’d had morning classes, and you were falling asleep while on snack-duty… Plus, you’d agreed to just take it easy the whole drive. It was summer; there was no need to rush home.

Sy pulled off the highway, quickly ending the smooth, rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, until the asphalt finally made way for the crackling of gravel. Without Sy, you never would have found the campsite at which you pulled over. Camping ran through that guy’s veins, as you could tell from the impressive amount of camping gear in the bed of the pickup – all his.

Even though he helped you get out of the truck, you still lost your footing and stumbled into him, leaving Walter grinning to the side of the spectacle, commenting on your horrible clumsiness.

“Dunno,” Sy replied with a sly smile. “Guess she’s just fallin’ for me.” The cheesy joke made Walter stop dead in his tracks.

“I think that’s twenty-five,” he deadpanned, looking at you. In a less-than-sober state, somewhere in the past year, you had made a deal: if either of them managed to make that joke twenty-five times before the end of the year, you’d… Alright, let the records show that when you made that bet, you had been entirely convinced they’d never take you up on the offer to let them kiss you. But they had.

“You’re not gonna hold me to what I said back then, are you?” you asked in a small voice, your cheeks so hot you could probably fry an egg on them. The door of the truck slammed shut behind you, and Sy slowly stepped forward, forcing you to step back, until you were backed up against the truck, with him leaning over you – completely caged in between his solid body and the car.

“Deal’s a deal, sugar.” There was no trace of his usual grin, no hint of the mischievous glint in his eyes that normally told you he was kidding. He just came closer and closer as your eyes went wide – Walter did nothing. Jackass.

Not that kissing Sy was something you didn’t want. Oh no! In fact, it was something a fairly large part of you wanted so badly you thought you might burst. On some days, being close to either of them – let alone both – was torture, where your heart raced every time they came near you, and you unconsciously held your breath when they touched you… And while the guys just freely admitted to having sex dreams about you, you kept the little nugget of truth that you had similar dreams about them, tightly under wraps. Not because you thought they’d tease you about it, or anything, just… No, wait, actually that’s exactly why you didn’t tell them.

A few more seconds passed in which your heart tried its best to jump out of your chest.

“This isn’t funny, Sy,” you snapped on a sharp exhale when his mouth curled at the corners into that signature smirk you loved to hate. Finally able to gather your thoughts as well as your strength, you put your hands on his chest and pushed. It was a good thing he let you go, because if he had decided to stay put, you wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.

“I want my kiss, sugar,” he called after you as you paced away to… alright, you didn’t actually know where you were going, but away, at least. “One way or another.”

As pissed – or confused – as you were, this was ‘the outdoors’ and therefore absolutely not the type of environment you were well equipped for in any kind of way, thus you decided it was best to stay close – within earshot, at least – to the boys. But they could take care of unpacking and pitching tents and whatever the fuck else needed doing.

“Hey.” Sy sat down next to you on the rock you had claimed, and put an arm around you. This was oddly comfortable, especially compared to the tense situation by the car, earlier. “I was messin’ with ya back there, you know that, right?” Whether it was to make a point, or simply because Walter wasn’t watching – or maybe because the threatening wall of man from before was now your familiar gentle giant again, you had no idea, but you impulsively reached for Sy and kissed him on the cheek. A low chuckle escaped him, and he pulled you closer.

“There’s a trail up to a waterfall we maybe wanted to check out, you in? Easy hike.” The good thing about hanging out with the guys was that they really considered your level of… adventurous ineptitude. If they suggested this hike, it meant they were at least medium convinced you could actually make it there and back in one piece – or that they could make it at least halfway with you on their backs.

The hike led up to a beautiful, clear river, and a spectacular waterfall. Between the smell of the woods, the sun comfortably warm on your skin, and the phenomenal view, this hike had been more than worth it – never mind that you were all sticky and sweaty from trying to keep up with the guys and their superhuman pace.

“On the way back, can we please remember that I have little legs?” you complained as you sank down onto the rock at the river bank the boys had selected to eat yet another sandwich on. Sy hummed, finally contently munching on the tuna sandwich you’d denied him in the car, and Walter laughed. You sat in silence while your friends ate their food, which meant the rock inevitably became too boring for your limited attention span.

What started off as a relatively sure-footed expedition over the rocks that stuck out of the water, inevitably ended with your very accurate portrayal of a soaking wet person regretting most – if not all – of their life choices. Sy sighed and rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, taking his sweet time to get up and make his way over to you to fish you out of the water – which he then called ‘refreshing’ instead of ‘freezing fucking cold’. That didn’t improve your mood. Next, Walter had to dive for your phone – which, luckily, could swim, but was still going to be next to useless to you at the bottom of this far-deeper-than-anticipated vein of icy death.

Shivering, covered in goosebumps and with chattering teeth, you stood on the bank of the river.

“Take your shirt off,” Walter commanded, plucking his own off the dry rock.

“What?” you stammered, staring at him in disbelief. Now, that alone would have been just fine, if your eyes hadn’t dropped from his face to his chest. Small droplets of water dripped from his hair and beard onto his shoulders and chest and… somehow trickled down his body in slow motion. If they knew how much willpower it took to lift your eyes to his again, they would never let you live it down. Sy repeated his words from a distance – there went your excuse that Walter had just been talking too softly. Sy was still up to his knees in the river, unbothered by the cold, just hanging out there as if that water didn’t rival the fucking arctic ocean for temperature.

As you looked at him, he started to walk back to the riverside. The sun was starting to set, changing the light in a way that made it look like Sy, much like those fucking drops of water, was moving in slow motion, flecks of sunlight dancing over his skin… These guys were distracting enough when they were dry and dressed, but now that they were wet and half naked, with damp, coarse curls sticking to their chest and abs, catching the water that dripped down from their heads… These boys were fucking with your head. Big time.

“Sugar, take off your shirt, please,” Sy repeated when he stood next to you. “You’re freezin’, let’s get you a dry t-shirt, at least.” Oh. So, they weren’t putting the moves on you. Good to know. Hopefully, your exasperated sigh didn’t give away any of the disappointment you felt. With a little help from Walter, you lifted your soaking top over your head, not caring that they saw you in your bra until it was already too late. Sy used his t-shirt to dry you off a bit, before handing you Walter’s to put on. The whole time, they kept their eyes in decent places, and their hands didn’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. Now, why did that make you feel sad?

“We should head back,” Walter said – mostly to Sy. The sun disappeared rather quickly, and without the heat from it, that dry t-shirt – save for the two tit-shaped wet spots where your soaked bra touched it – didn’t do much to keep you warm.

By the time you made it back to the campsite, you were shivering again. The walk had done next to nothing to warm you, and your still wet jean shorts chafed painfully against your thighs. Not to mention your thighs were starting to chafe painfully against your thighs. So, the first thing you did was disappear into the tiny single tent that was meant for you – as you had made it abundantly clear that sharing a tent with the boys was out of the question – and change into something dry, warm, and comfortable. The guys did the same, although – as it turns out – their version of ‘warm’ included no shirts. Did they ever get cold?

It was tough enough to keep your eyes off Sy in cargo shorts – although Walter in jeans was just as much of a sight for sore eyes – but now that it was getting dark, the sweats came out to play. You silently thanked Walter for his choice of black sweatpants, because keeping your thoughts out of the gutter was hard enough already. Sy was shamelessly sporting a pair of grey sweats, filling them out just about as nicely as humanly possible as he sat there, getting a fire started. The sly glances and that godforsaken smirk he flung your way from time to time told you that he was more than aware that you were checking him out.

The heat from the fire alone wasn’t enough to warm you up. Sy’s solution was tequila – which helped, but not quite enough, so Walter wrapped you in a blanket, pulling you close to his side as he ran his hands over your arms in an attempt to stop your shivering. At the same time, Sy inched closer, and before you knew it, four arms were wrapped around you.

Apart from being hot, proverbially, these guys were hot in the literal sense, too, warming you up slightly more effectively than the blanket around your shoulders and moderate amount of alcohol in your system. Still, the icy temperatures from the ground you were sitting on seeped into you without mercy. Of course, the boys took notice, both getting the same idea, and each grabbing one of your legs to try and pull you into their respective laps. Needless to say; it didn’t work, and you just ended up with spread legs, sitting between them on the floor. Sy had that twinkle in his eye, that smirk on his face that was dripping with confidence and indecency… You had to get out of there before he could speak!

As you scrambled to your feet, mumbling something about getting another blanket for yourself to sit on, you tripped and fell into Walter’s lap. Of course! You had been keeping score on that bet as well, and you knew you had come here – fucking camping – with both of the guys stuck on twenty-four counts of the same lame fucking joke… This was your fault, really.

To your surprise, however, Walter said nothing – instead, he smiled politely, pulling you into a more comfortable position in his lap.

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, although you had absolutely no idea why. Maybe because it was the truth, maybe because you just wanted this bet to be over. Either way, it hurt you that he didn’t make the dumb joke, and asked to collect his reward the way Sy had. Hoping to get up before Walter looked into your eyes – where your thoughts were no doubt displayed for everyone to see – you made a move that was entirely too advanced for your mediocre balance and agility, and you crashed down again, this time falling harder than before. As Walter grunted, panic shot through you…

“Darling, I’d ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but so far the only person who got hurt in that process, is me,” he blurted out in a strangled voice, while Sy was losing it next to you, howling from laughter.

Was it the booze? The fire? The tension from this afternoon? The fact that you were sitting in his lap, with his hands maybe a tad too low on your hips, but high enough to not rouse suspicion? Or maybe just your complete lack of self-control? Whatever it was, it caused you to move to straddle his thighs, and without thinking about it for so much as a second, you kissed him. If you’d had a sliver of hope before that Walter would break the kiss after an at least semi-decent amount of time, it was gone now, because the hand on your hip pulled you tighter against him, and his other hand tangled in your hair.

Walter kissed you. It took far more effort than you had ever expected to really let that sink in, but at the same time there was no way around it. He was kissing you, and it was eager, and rough, accompanied by ragged breaths and the occasional moan. It managed to make you forget everything around you. Everything except for Sy – mainly because he let out a pained grunt just as you were about to stick your tongue down Walter’s throat.

“I got a kiss on the cheek, man,” he groaned as he leaned in slightly on one elbow.

Now, if you had been thinking clearly, you would have laughed it off, gotten up and gone to bed. Safe to say, you were not thinking clearly.

Sy’s mouth felt just as good on yours as Walter’s had, with similarly soft lips, a similarly coarse beard scraping your skin, and a similar roughness to him that only wound you tighter. You moaned, your hips unconsciously grinding into Walter’s, his growing hard-on providing extra friction to soothe the ache between your legs. When you briefly opened your eyes to see if Sy was as involved in this as you were, you saw him palm his own erection through his sweats – casually adjusting its position before focusing on you again. In that moment – timed perfectly with a moan from Walter – something inside of you snapped.

“I’m going to bed,” you stuttered as you broke the kiss with Sy, at the same time scrambling to get to your feet – this time succeeding without falling into anyone, and making it to your own tent without a hitch. ‘

Now, if it had been a sober conversation, and it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere without a sound to be heard for miles other than crickets, the occasional owl, and the crackling of the fire, at least half of it would have been inaudible from where you had pitched your tents. But the boys were too drunk, and their voices too deep and dark – the sound just traveled too far. You could have ignored them. You could have turned around, pulled your sleeping bag over your ears, and pretended to be asleep until it became the truth. Instead, you listened, sometimes straining to understand what they were saying.

“So, who do we say got her first?”

“I’m asking for a do-over.”

“Because it was me?”

“We could just… Y’know…”

“Think she’d go for it?”

“What, both of us? My ex did…”

“But she was nuts.”

“Hey! Okay, fair enough.”

Both of them? Both of them? As in… Separately? Or… Oh, what the fuck did it matter! The answer was yes.

What surprised you most about your thoughts was how completely unsurprised you were by them. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with both Sy and Walter felt as natural as could be, and left you not only stumped, but with another problem that needed tending to…

Without thinking, you slid your hand down your body, and into your sweatpants. Kissing the boys had definitely had its effect on you, you had known that as soon as it had happened, but the extent of the mess between your thighs was still quite surprising. Somehow, tasting both of them, followed by your eavesdropping, had made you dripping wet and craving something more than just your fingers. Unfortunately, they’d have to do.

You thought of that first kiss with Walter, then the one with Sy, then wondered what it would feel like to have those beards scratch the skin of your neck, slowly making their way down to your chest. Would they lick? Bite? Moan? You pictured Sy, eagerly making his way further down, while Walter kept his attention on your chest. Would he be as quiet as he always was? Was Sy as loud as you imagined him to be?

There were so many things to wonder about, besides the obvious size question, that the thoughts consumed you completely as you worked yourself up to your peak. So completely, in fact, that you didn’t hear the guys return to the tents – just as you squealed from pleasure while you came. Hard.

“Fuck, sugar,” Sy said from outside. Walter warned him to stop talking, but he didn’t listen. “Tell me if you want any help.”

It was tempting to say ‘yes’. It was tempting to crawl into that tent and tell them you had heard everything they said by the fire. It was tempting to offer yourself up on a silver platter, hoping they’d make good on their promises from before by fucking the life out of you. But things that are tempting can also still be difficult, so you did nothing. Well, nothing… If ‘dying of embarrassment’ counts as ‘something’, you were definitely not doing nothing.

The sound of your own teeth chattering prevented you from falling asleep, even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. And who knew goosebumps could hurt like this? The boys had warned you beforehand that it would get cold at night, and you’d even told Sy what you had planned on wearing as pajamas, and he’d said you’d be good. Well, you weren’t good. You were covered from head to toe, and you were not – by any definition of the word – ‘good’.

As hard and painful as it was to just lay there and freeze, it was harder to get up, worm your double-socked feet into your sneakers and get out of your tent. Outside, it was pitch black, and the dim light of your phone was barely enough to prevent you from falling flat on your face. You had to credit the boys with their incredible foresight to keep the path from your tent to theirs free of tripping hazards – something you were so delighted in at that moment that you forgot to question whether or not there was some sort of ploy, or whatever in place. Lewd scheme or not, you were glad to make it without a hitch.

“Eh, guys?” you whispered after zipping open the tent and poking your head in.

“Hm? What?” It was Walter – and from Sy’s continued snoring, you deduced that you shouldn’t wait for him to answer; he wasn’t waking up.

“I’m really fucking cold,” you admitted reluctantly. That seemed to wake Walter up a little more…

“Cold? You could go on an expedition to the north pole dressed the way you are!” The sleep-drunk slur of his voice was… adorable, in a way. To his left – no, his right… To his left from where you were standing? The left side of the air-mattress they were on when you looked at it, standing at the foot of the bed, the right side if you were actually lying in… oh for fuck’s sake! Next to him, Sy groaned and turned – although you couldn’t see any of that, because it was very dark.

“The fuck is going on?” he grunted, his voice gravelly and dark – which did a good job of making your knees weak.

“She’s cold,” Walter replied dryly.

“There’s no way,” Sy said in disbelief, “she’s dressed for winter in Alaska.”

“If you two are done mocking me, I’m actually freezing my ass off out here. Do you have an extra blanket or something?” you snapped.

“Sugar, we’re not even wearin’ shirts,” Sy said, his voice steadier now that he was waking up.

“Great, so you put on a shirt, and I’ll take your sleeping bag.” It was a shame they couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but the snippy tone would surely get your point across.

“Or you could just come here, love,” Walter said all of a sudden. There was rustling in the tent and then a dim red light over your heads turned on.

“Interesting choice…” you started, but Walter and Sy chuckled.

“It’s easier on your eyes, sugar.” Shit, Sy was easy on your eyes, god damn. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way he casually lounged on that fucking mattress right now, with that arm behind his head, eyes half shut…

Walter was sitting up, holding a hand out to you, waiting patiently until you had zipped open the door further – which took so long that he ended up helping you with it. As you got in, he got out, and for a moment you were scared he would offer to leave you with Sy while he took your tent, but after a while he returned holding your backpack and sleeping bag.

The bed was a bit small for the three of you, especially since the guys were so bulky, but you managed to make it work. The only thing was… shivering in between them was hardly more comfortable than shivering by yourself, and now there wasn’t enough space to curl up into a ball and hope for the best.

“Sugar, stop squirmin’, c’mere.” Sy’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, when up until now you’d been trying desperately not to touch either of them. “Alright, I take it back, she is freezin’.” A gesture to Walter you could feel but not see, made him scooch over, too, until his body was flush against yours.

Your heart raced in your throat when warm hands slipped underneath your hoodie, stroking your side and – eventually – your stomach. Somewhere down the line, you forgot how to breathe properly, taking in shallow breaths, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice. Of course, they did, because they were inches away from you.

“You should take this off, sugar,” Sy mumbled into your ear. Every muscle in your body tensed up at the suggestion, and it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“C-can’t,” you stammered, “I’m not… eh… I’m not wearing a bra.”

“Fairly sure we’ve seen a pair of tits before, love,” Walter replied, right at the time Sy muttered ‘neither are we’, making you laugh. Somehow, all of this seemed innocent – or rather; you were convincing yourself it felt innocent, and any subtext and undertones were a figment of your imagination, instead, when in fact, it was far more likely that it was exactly the other way around…

“Not mine,” you protested, biting your lip as a third hand, belonging to Walter, began to roam your back.

“We’re aware of that,” Sy said, his voice dangerously close to your ear. His breath was hot against your cold skin – a sensation that made you shiver.

“In fact, we try not to think about it. It makes us sad,” Walter said, leaning his forehead against yours, sliding his hand down your back and then up your side until his thumb was less than an inch away from the underside of your boobs.

For a moment, the thought that this was just a tactic to actually warm you up flashed through your head, because – in all fairness – it was working. Every part of you was suddenly glowing, breath quick and ragged in anticipation of whatever it was that would come next. What surprised you, though, was how calm they both seemed. Then again, they had already – unknowingly – admitted to having done this before. If that was where this was headed, which you still didn’t quite know for sure… It was as if the guys were both waiting for something. Waiting for… you.

Your lips trembled as you tilted your head up, Walter taking your hint and pressing his lips to yours. Sy pushed your hair out of the way and latched on to your neck. Neither of them went straight to groping you – not more than they had been up until now – but it was only a matter of time before you felt Walter’s hand creep up to your chest. He broke your kiss, his eyes silently asking for permission, which you gave him with the flash of a smile and a slight nod, gasping when his fingers brushed past your nipple. Despite the rising temperatures in the tent – even though most of that was likely just your imagination – the difference between your skin and Walter’s was striking, and you moaned when his warm hand cupped your breast.

Sy was less subtle by about a million degrees, boldly grabbing as much of your other boob as humanly possible – and he had big hands, so you quickly ran out of tit for him to dig his fingers into.

“Can you take it easy,” you blurted out as you laughed in surprise at his – as far as you were concerned – unwarranted enthusiasm.

“Darlin’, I’ve been dreamin’ of these tits for weeks, throw a man a bone.” He groaned when you backed a hip into him the same way you would have if he had been standing next to you.

“Looks like you’re the one throwing me a bone, Syverson,” you teased when you felt his cock push against your ass. It was a horrible joke; Walter laughed, Sy did not – possibly because he was the one on the receiving end of your mockery. Instead, you heard a low, arrogant chuckle in your ear, that told you exactly how he wasn’t going to give you the upper hand.

“I ain’t throwin’ you nothin’, sugar,” he growled, putting a hand on your hip, gripping you tight. “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Promises, promises.” Teasing the boys was fun when you were studying, because you very clearly had a head start in that department, and they would get frustrated, and it was very cute. But now, sandwiched between their bodies, gone was your head start. Any advantage you had over them, in any other way, was useless here. The worst part? They fucking knew it. It was as if they grew bigger and you got smaller, and you were loving every second of it.

Suddenly, the hands underneath your sweater grew impatient, tugging the fabric up until there was no point in keeping it on. Rough hands turned you on your back, which left you staring up at both guys while they raked their eyes over your naked upper body. The knowledge that they were far from unaffected by you graced you with a sense of pride that helped keep doubts and shyness away as you reveled in their attention and the appreciative grunts and moans they let out as they looked at you.

“Fuck,” Walter muttered, licking his lips, completely focused on your bare skin. He scooched closer to you, grinding his hips into your side as he did, and turned your face to his to kiss you.

It was as eager as before, this time with Sy descending, pressing his lips to your neck, exceeding every expectation you had created in your fantasy from before; their lips were softer, their tongues wetter, and the way the coarse hair felt on your skin better than anything you could ever imagine. You whined and squirmed as their hands glided over your body, paying plenty of attention to your boobs, their fingers treating the soft flesh in remarkably similar ways. After a while, they switched places; Sy kissed you, Walter explored your body, making you gasp into Sy’s mouth as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the hardened little bud while his fingers worked the other.

Eventually, he came back up to kiss you, a situation Sy took advantage of by diving straight back between your boobs, this time sliding his hand down your stomach and into your sweatpants – which is when you grabbed his wrist.

“Stop.” Stern and very effective – not that you were about to give the boys any credit for not assaulting you; that sounded like common fucking decency to you, actually. “Before this goes any further; did either of you, with your infinite wisdom and incredible foresight, pack condoms? Because if not…” Before you finished that sentence, both of them sat up and reached for their bag, leaving you there, taken aback by… You didn’t actually know what had you so shocked about this.

Sy made it back to your side first, tucking a handful of condoms beneath his pillow before laying down again. “Oral?” he asked. It was only half the question, but you understood perfectly. You quickly established that everyone was clean, making the short answer to his half-question ‘without’. Sy responded to that agreement by promptly sliding his hand into your pants, not wasting any more time. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he let out a low chuckle.

“For a moment I was worried you didn’t want this as much as we do,” he growled in your ear. “Guess I was wrong.” One quick, skilled swirl of his finger around your swollen clit made you whine – a sound he clearly found very motivational, because his fingers picked up a steady rhythm. You tried to hide your face in Walter’s neck to cover up the sound of your moans, but he caught you and kissed you instead.

Sy somehow found the time to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear – sinking his teeth into you ever so slightly, stopping just before he hurt you – while he continued what he was doing. His fingers were absolute magic, making you swear under your breath as he effortlessly slipped two of them inside you. Next, he kissed his way down again, not stopping at your breasts, but continuing over your abs, until he reached your sweatpants, pulling them down eagerly without waiting for your permission. Of course, he had it – and you’d had plenty of time to stop him while he was headed there. It’s just that… That was about the very last thing you wanted.

Next to you, Walter kept busy pressing lazy kisses to your neck and jaw, occasionally pulling away to look at you, while he held you and played with your boobs. A few times you tried to move your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, but he stopped you every time.

“Would you just...”

“Darling, been there, done that. You’ll be useless to me within seconds.” He nodded towards Sy, who was taking a moment to find a decent position between your legs. You raised your eyebrow at Walter, questioning his words, but he didn’t budge. “I’m gonna wait my turn, love.”

“I know this one,” Sy said, running his fingers over the fabric of your thong. You chuckled – he was right; he’d barged into your room one night while you were changing into whatever you were going to wear out to the club, and he’d seen you in your underwear. This underwear. He took his sweet time taking it off, teasing you with kisses on the inside of your thighs, his beard rough against your sensitive skin, until you were almost begging him to keep going. Finally, he pulled your panties down.

“You were right,” he said to Walter, leaving you to wonder what the fuck… “It is her natural hair color.” Oh. You fought the urge to kick Sy – instead, you lightly squeezed your thighs shut around his head. It didn’t seem to bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact.  

The urge disappeared altogether when you – finally – felt his tongue on your pussy. He wasn’t subtle, but damn, he was good. Walter had absolutely had a point; barely ten seconds in and you couldn’t keep your eyes open, let alone focus on anything other than the feeling of Sy’s tongue on your clit. He impatiently spread your legs further while mumbling some very dirty things about how much he wanted to taste you. Involuntarily, you chuckled – causing both guys to stop what they were doing and looking at you in suspicion. Lying was pointless; they knew you well enough by now to effortlessly see through that, and you sighed.

“I… eh…” you stammered, unable to find the words.

“Come on,” Walter said, “if you’ve still got things to hide from us now…” He was right, of course, this wasn’t a position you’d have found yourself in at all if you hadn’t been so comfortable with – and hot for – these guys. Then again, you were already exposed and vulnerable… Why make that worse?

You hid your face in Walter’s neck as you just said what was on your mind without thinking about it: “I always imagined you to be the quiet one and Sy the loud one.”

“Always?” Sy teased you. His usual cocky attitude transferred seemly to the bedroom – or… tent – as it would seem. Except now, for once, you had a decent shot at shutting him the fuck up – although you did have a feeling you were going to like his smug confidence for a change. Sy had been growing out his buzzcut for a few weeks now, which made his hair just about long enough to grab – a fact you used to your advantage when you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back to where you wanted it.

“That’s just going to make it harder to answer the question, darling,” Walter muttered next to you while drawing circles around your nipples with impatient fingers.

“Fuck!” you shrieked as Sy’s tongue hit your clit just right – a note he took to heart, because he didn’t leave that spot again, leaving you wishing that all men were that smart. Because why – for the love of God – did they always change their approach as soon as they found a spot you let them know you really liked? Right… The question at hand… “You really thought it was just the two of you dreaming about me?” They had to be smart enough to figure out what you meant on their own, right? The flustered look on Walter’s face told you enough, as did the deep chuckle and gentle bite on the inside of your thigh.

Apparently fed up with your conversation, Sy doubled down on his efforts, eating you out like a man starved, more chuckles escaping him as he watched you pull his pillow over your face in an attempt to keep quiet. ‘Attempt’ because you still failed quite horribly when he pushed two fingers into your pussy and curled them, finding your g-spot without any effort. The orgasm that followed was the kind of toe-curling, earth-shattering, life-changing thing that made you really mad at yourself for one particular reason…

“Jesus fucking Christ, I should have taken you up on your offer when my useless ex broke up with me,” you moaned as Sy made his way up again, pulling in the pillow that you had haphazardly thrown aside – after you were done screaming­, that is – so you could catch your breath. Sy immediately pulled you on top of him, kissing you hard and deep, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was something that had always made you feel weird and – if you were being perfectly honest – mildly disgusted when it had been your ex doing it, but there was something about the way Sy had gone down on you, and the way he was kissing you now, something unapologetic, passionate, and enthusiastic, that made you want to kiss him.

In fact, you were just about to commit to the bit when someone – and that someone had to be Walter – grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back until you were on your knees. You tried to lie down again as you heard him rummage around, looking for something – the obvious, really. The smack on your ass made you shriek in surprise, only making you slightly worried that either sound would have been audible well outside the tent.

“Stay there,” Walter’s husky voice commanded. “My turn.” Maybe he was the quiet one, but when he did speak… Oh my! You didn’t dare to move a muscle, leaving you sitting there, exposed as you heard the pretty familiar crinkling of foil. Shortly after, you felt the tip of Walter’s cock glide along the length of your slit. He teased you for a moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. Sy laughed as your eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. Jackass. As soon as you got a good sense of what he was equipped with, you squealed. Not with any particular emotion in mind, just… Right now, you didn’t know what to think. In fact, Walter was well on his way to at least semi-permanently turning the whole thinking-function of your brain off.

“You alright, love?” Walter asked as he slowly pushed further into you.

“So far so good,” you moaned, “but I hope you’re running out of dick, because I’m running out of places to put it.” Cue roaring laughter from both guys…

“If you ever wonder why we love you,” Sy said, his sentence interrupted by more laughter, “that, right there. That’s why.”

You wanted to respond to that, you really did, but Walter pulling out of you already left you breathless, meaning all you could do was gasp when he slammed back into you. You’d never pictured either of them to be gentle. Concerned for your comfort, sure, but not tender. You’d been right. Luckily, gentle lovemaking was very low on your list of priorities in this particular situation – or ever – which meant you reveled in the brutish attention you got and soon found yourself wanting to beg Walter to fuck you harder.

Sy, as vocal as he’d been before, turned out to also be a champion in impatiently nudging your hand, vaguely suggesting he wanted you to do something, and for a moment it felt like you were about to regain some control of the situation, but no… He was also not above manhandling you into a position where your face hovered over his crotch, and taking his dick out himself once he got really fed up with your stalling. With your eyes wide, you looked at him – something he enjoyed for a moment before tapping the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Don’t make me ask, Sugar,” he growled. As much as you wanted to protest and act out, with Walter fucking the attitude out of you, there was nothing you could do but open your mouth and carefully wrapping your lips around him. The chuckle you let out as Sy grunted appreciatively when you swirled your tongue around his cock was interrupted by your own moan when Walter did… whatever it was that he did to cause it.

Slowly but surely, you made your way further down Sy’s dick, until a particularly violent thrust from Walter threw you off, accidentally forcing Sy deeper than you could handle. Choking and sputtering, you moved away from Sy, only scared for a moment that he’d be disappointed, but he had a different reaction – similar to Walter’s: checking to see if you were okay. Again, you were not in the habit of handing out bonus points for normal behavior, but it was nice, regardless.

“I’m fine,” you said between ragged breaths. “Note to self: deepthroating while getting railed from behind; bad idea.” The guys laughed, and as soon as you’d caught your breath, you joined them.

“There’s one way we all get attention without any risk of choking,” Sy mentioned casually, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. Yes, you knew what he meant instantly, but… both of them? At the same time? All it took to convince you to at least give it a try was Walter slipping out of you, leaving you empty and nowhere near sated. One of Sy’s sly glances was a question to Walter, who ‘hmmph’-ed. You didn’t like the sound of that, per se, and looked over your shoulder to see what he was on about.

“Definitely depends,” he said, taking your lack of an immediate ‘absolutely the fuck not’-reaction as a sign you were considering it. And he was correct in that interpretation of the situation. “There’s a time and place for first time anal, and this is not it.” That was a sentiment you could absolutely get behind. Luckily, it didn’t matter, because it was hardly applicable. You assured the guys you had plenty of experience in that area.

Another potential spanner in the works that Sy mentioned, was the lack of lube. Somehow, Walter surprised you by mentioning you should have some with you – you did, but how did he know that?

“You use it to keep your hair from going frizzy,” he deadpanned. You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, while Sy looked at you as if you’d gone completely nuts.

“What?” you said, turning to Sy again. “It works!” With one hand, you reached for the strap of your backpack, pulling it towards you so you could look for the bottle. It was just under half full, but that should be enough…

Walter wasn’t stingy with the stuff, which was a good thing. There were few things more annoying to you than continuously having to tell a guy to use more lube. One, then two, then three fingers disappeared into you without a hitch, and although the fourth was a nice reminder that you had to relax, that went over without too much trouble as well. Somehow, somewhere in your mind, the fact that Walter seemed to know exactly what he was doing irked you – it was completely hypocritical of you, for obvious reasons, but right now the thought of him with anyone else made you mad.

The boys laughed when you voiced the absurd thought, and Sy didn’t neglect to point out that they hadn’t been too happy about several of the ‘scum’ (yes, really) you’d gotten together with in the time they’d known you. It was a weird thing to be joking about with two of your closest friends while one of them had several fingers stuck up your ass, but at the same time it felt very natural and on-brand for your relationship with the guys.

You whined when Walter pulled his fingers out, making Sy chuckle in a way you didn’t like at all.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” he suggested with a smug grin on his face that only widened when you told him you were definitely not going to do that. “Why not, sugar?”

Fuck, he was making good on that promise from before. Now, of course, you could convince yourself that begging for cock was beneath you, and you weren’t going to do it, but that would leave you – relatively – unfucked, which was… not desirable, to say the least. Or you could admit to yourself and them how much you wanted both of them inside of you, and have a great time.

Somehow, the red light that no one had bothered to turn off – luckily, as everything you had been doing so far would have been more or less impossible in the dark – already made the tent feel like… a brothel, quite frankly, you put your doubts aside and looked at Sy.

“We’re not going to sleep, because you’re not done fucking me,” you said, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sy seemed impressed at first, but his eyes flitted to Walter and…

A strong hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up until your back hit Walter’s chest. His arm reached around, grabbing you by your throat – lightly, almost as if to ask for permission, but demanding.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Down on the air mattress, Sy smirked up at you, making it painfully obvious that you wouldn’t get out of this, no matter how hard you tried. You quickly scanned your brain for all your options, sadly coming up completely empty. No matter which way you sliced it, they were going to come out on top.

“I want you to fuck me,” you snapped, “both of you.” A sarcastic chuckle behind you and Sy shaking his head as he looked up at you told you that that wasn’t good enough. After a deep breath, your voice softened as you spoke again, finally saying the word they wanted to hear: “Please.”

For a long, dull moment all you really heard was the sound of two more condoms being unwrapped, and the top of the bottle of lube clicking. Then, Sy pulled you towards him. As soon as you felt his tip at your entrance, you sat down, fighting the urge to slap him when he threw a smirk and that godforsaken horrible wink your way. Under normal circumstances you considered yourself very well versed in resisting that desire, but today… He laughed when your palm landed lightly on his cheek and thrust up into you for good measure, making you squeal and fall over. Luckily, he caught you just in time.

Just as you wanted to sit up again, Walter put a hand on your back. Right. In that little moment of silliness, you’d almost forgotten what the endgame was, but now that you felt Walter’s cock pushing against your ass…

“Keep talking to us, okay?” Sy whispered softly as he saw your expression change. He cupped your cheek, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Breathe.” You took his advice immediately – no doubt a nice change of pace for him, as he was used to your stubbornness at this point – taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that Walter moved, slowly pushing into you. Keeping your eyes open was absolutely impossible, the sensation of both of them filling you up at the same time too much to even really wrap your head around. “Sugar, you okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nodded, showcasing your current full extent of your ability to answer. When Walter moved, you swore under your breath – when they both moved you hid your face in Sy’s neck and let out a loud moan, followed by an out-of-breath ‘fuck yes’, and that was all the confirmation they needed.

They established a rhythm suspiciously quickly, pumping in and out of you in sync. Yeah. They’d definitely done this before. As you pushed the thought away and focused on the incredible sensations of their cocks moving inside of you, their eager – and mostly greedy – hands on your hips, shoulders, ass, thighs, and tits, you felt a familiar pressure inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you blurted out – and the boys seemed more than happy to oblige. With one little disclaimer…

“Make it quick, love… Not gonna last,” Walter grunted, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. It hurt, causing you to swat at his hand, which made him relax his grip a bit. Judging from Sy’s rapid breaths and a concentrated look on his face that gave away just how much difficulty he was having with keeping his rhythm steady, he was getting pretty damn close, too. In fact, pretty much the second their thrusts dragged you over the edge, both of them grit their teeth and gave in to their own pleasure, growling profanities as they came.

The boys were nice enough to handle most of the cleanup for you – which was, given that you were camping, largely a matter of wet wipes, which was definitely not even close to the shower you would have loved to take right about now. And you couldn’t really appreciate Sy’s joke about a lovely, refreshing river near where you were, either.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you yawned, turning around in the middle of the bed, wrapping your sleeping bag tightly around your shoulders. It didn’t take the guys long to join you, and soon you were sandwiched between them again, strong arms wrapped around you – clearly not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Walter pressed his lips to your shoulder and let out a low chuckle. “Still cold, darling?”

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, in a tent that was already slightly warmer than comfortable, with just your sleeping bag on it. The guys had somehow already managed to worm theirs into the tiny little bags they came in, and all without waking you. Then again, it was safe to say that by now they’d proven themselves to be experts in the field of putting pretty big things in relatively tiny places…

For a moment, you wondered if you should feel weird about getting up and going outside, seeing the guys, but something about the whole thing felt so oddly natural that you didn’t give it a second thought.

“Mornin’, sugar,” Sy said as he held out some coffee to you when you joined him on the ground by the fire, where you’d spent the start of last night, as well. The two of you called Walter over, who was just about done putting your tent – the one that had been meant to be yours, anyway – away. He tossed the bag into the bed of the truck as if it weighed nothing – and maybe it indeed didn’t, you wouldn’t know, because you hadn’t touched the entire thing – and made his way over to you, gratefully taking the other cup of coffee Sy had poured.

You knew better than to try striking up a conversation with either of them before they’d finished their morning coffee – it was so bad that whenever you had classes together in the mornings, you showed up there with two double espressos for them and a latte for you, because if you didn’t do that, they’d just grouch and snap at you all the way through the first half of class.

It was all the more surprising, then, when Sy suddenly asked Walter a very unexpected question: “Have you ever kissed a dude?” The answer was no, he hadn’t - to which followed an even more surprising question: “Ever wanted to try it?”

The casual energy of the shrug with which Walter answered that question was absolutely unmatched by anything you had ever seen, and you stared at the guys, wide-eyed as they leaned in until their lips touched. It wasn’t just a quick peck, either! No, there was tongue involved in this… And by the end of it?

“Eh,” Walter said, “not for me.” Sy agreed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, completely taken aback by the unexpectedness of what had just happened. “What? You can’t just… Stick your tongue down your friend’s throat and then casually decide… What?”

“Hey,” Sy said, his tone still infuriatingly indifferent, “don’t knock it till you try it.”

[just-jordie-things]

omg i love the way u write jjk characters! i was reading ur work and had a scenario that i thought would be so fun to read from you if you like the idea! i was thinking abt if you got drunk with them at the school (like maybe all the students sneak to one persons dorm or something), how they would act drunk, how they would treat u, what would happen etc. my favs are toge and yuji but you could do whoever ofc!

ok idk if this is exactly what you were looking for but since i've wrtten a few fics now where drinking/partying was the theme, i'm gonna assign the jjk crews their party night roles lolol so enjoy

ITADORI YUUJI is the life of the party, obviously. he's the type to bring jello shots to the function and if no one wants them, he'll eat em all himself. he's the guy that you dare to do stuff as the night goes on. he's the guy that somehow, at the end of each party, is missing a shirt. did he go swimming? did someone spill on it? did he spill on it? (most likely) everyone laughs but no one really complains about it. he's always got a fun plan or game in mind to keep the night going, and everyone's happy to have him there.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is the shy-at-first guest. he's slow when he first gets there, and always claims he doesn't want to get too fucked up. he's got a never ending amount of excuses up his sleeve as to why he can't take that shot with you, or be your partner for beer pong. but give him an hour to warm up. he'll spend that time lining up a fire playlist and semi-mingling. the trick to getting him to loosen up? just a quick smoke first. don't jump on him with it, but if he sees a joint being passed around, he can't resist just a couple puffs. what's the harm, right? a couple puffs and he's giving in to whatever other party shenanigans come his way.

KUGISAKI NOBARA is in charge of the photography for the evening. everyone's instagrams and snapchat stories are well taken care of when she's around. in the early parts of the evening they're casual photos, fit checks, some candids of the laughing group as they play games or eat pizza. she's quite good with lighting and angles, and no one complains when she shoves her phone in their face. as the night goes on, she probably documents more than she should- toge drawing on yuuta's face while he's passed out, yuuji shirtless and covering himself in whipped cream on a dare- but it's always too funny to go through them the next day and delete half the evidence.

PANDA is the dancer. if he's drinking, he's dancing. it doesn't matter how many drinks are in his system. it doesn't matter if the music is particularly fun- or even playing. he's got too much excitement from hanging out with his friends and is down for a good time. he's also easy to coerce into pranking someone.

INUMAKI TOGE is the coercer of pranks. if someone passes out, he's always got a marker on him. he always has the best dares for truth or dare, and isn't afraid when others want to get their revenge. he's that class-clown energy at the party. sometimes it's annoying, but it's always undeniably funny. he definitely likes those tacky party favors from spencers. especially the big dick shaped syringes for taking shots. he's got a lot of sus 'party decorations'. but let's be real it's really fucking funny when he breaks out the newest one. also if he gets too drunk he will use his cursed speech for the sake of humor.

ZEN'IN MAKI is the bartender and general caretaker of the group. she's the best at mixed drinks and knows everyone's favorite, but always has something new to try. as the designated bartender she's also the one subtly making sure everyone is on a good track for the night. most of the time it just meant keeping an eye on yuuji and toge, reminding them to have some water every once in a while went a long way. and she's not afraid to cut you off if you're getting sloppy. i also think she'd roll the fattest, cleanest joints when she's not mixing drinks.

OKKOTSU YUUTA is the first to fall asleep. he's a good time, don't get me wrong. he loves the games and the dancing and the goofing around, but he's an overworked boy and... a bit of a lightweight. motherfucker takes two hits and is shaking his head the rest of the rotation. it's kinda cute that his eyes get all red after so little before he raids the snack table. maki knows he has a five drink limit before he either needs to drink water or rally or... as usual, he's slumped into the couch and snoozing away. it's a miracle that he can sleep so hard when the music is blasting and everyone has to yell to be heard- especially when it's itadori yelling. by the end of the night, someone's thrown a blanket over him, and toge's vandalized his face with permanent marker.

[charles-leclerc-official]

do you read fics? And if yes do you have any recs ?

I do read fics. And I write them too!

There are so many good ones(a majority of what I read is lestappen) but here are a few that have been consuming me recently.

Note: a lot of these are rated E.

Inhale You In Small Doses by Nova Cloud @fueledbyremembering Incubus Charles AU! Literally so much fun and really creative world-building.

After the Races by clueing_for_looks Ongoing and just an insane mix of smut, feelings realization, and drama.

When You Cut Me Open by Linearity @drivestraight Vampire AU! One of the best vampire fics I've ever read.

A Ship to Wreck by moonlightE Ongoing Pirate omegaverse AU! Crazy plot and really great world-building

you're like 9 to 5 (i'm the weekend) by MINGSHUAS @lestappenreads So good for feelings realization, and emotional angst + A lot of well written drama!

How(Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen by F1 writingbyme and LestappenForever @lestappenforever @f1writingbyme Extremely funny and clever writing about all of the lestappen 3 wheel victims.

Somebody Else by Piastrism This one features a very fraught relationship between Oscar/Charles/Max and is heavier on the angst, but there is a happy ending. It's so well written.

Pour me a Heady Dose of Atmosphere by Anonymous Android Max au! Incredibly written

Also I will finish with the shameless self plug, my AO3 I have a few complete works, some one shots, and 2 ongoing multi-chapter works(all lestappen)

If you are going to check one out let it be my completed multi-chapter work Just One Question? featuring some angst and how a situation-ship turns into a feelings realization over winter break.

There are so many more, and I know I forgot some masterpieces, but these are just a sample of some of the amazing work from our fic author community. I tagged those I know the blogs of, reach out if you want to be tagged.

Thank you, and say hi to all of these hardworking and talented fic authors <3

[ro-rogue]

i have very mixed feelings about the new bostin confrontation that got john expelled.

it is portrayed as the worst of john's actions in new bostin, his lowest, most violent moment. and while that last part is not untrue, i feel like the confrontation is a lot more complicated than just john going insane.

by that point, john had already been king for a little while, and he was absolutely terrible at it. (i've written before on why i think that is, and even his objectively horrible actions here were not excusable but understandable.) claire decided he needed to be stopped, and she gathered a bunch of their schoolmates to confront him, as her vision had shown. then, instead of trying to talk it out, zirian (one of the people she had gathered, for some reason) immediately attacked john, and everything devolved from there.

now, a few things stick out to me here:

first of all, claire took zirian with her to confront john. the question is: why? john and zirian had already fought on multiple occassions, and last time they fought, john had beaten zirian. did claire think seeing someone john defeated in a fair fight would make him realize he was a horrible person? did she think that if people saw zirian, they too would be willing to confront john? but wouldn't those people then think they were going to beat john up? did she not realize that if people believed her lie enough to follow her, they would be prepared to act on it too? i really struggle with her thought process here.

next, zirian thought that they could beat john if they all worked together. this supports my theory that the kids in new bostin had absolutely no idea how powerful a god-tier was. the wellston kids would never try to gang up like that on pre-ability loss seraphina - they knew she was too strong.

however, they did gang up on john at least sixteen-to-one (in episode 185, the shot with the most classmates shows sixteen people). when claire was telling the story to seraphina, she made it sound like it was completely unreasonable that john assumed that a group of people who all hated him, at least some of whom he had fought before, including the former king, would want to attack and overthrow him. "he refused to listen" is true, and something john has struggled with a lot both before and after the ambush, but to be honest, in his shoes, i also wouldn't have believed claire.

moreover, he is criticized for going too far in beating them up, but imo that mostly applies to claire and adrion, who weren't actually attacking him. the other fifteen kids were very clearly willing to hurt him just as much as he ended up hurting them. besides, they were attacking him fifteen-to-one, with claire standing to the side - what was john supposed to do? hold back?

the answer, of course, is yes: he should've. it was absolutely not right for him to go that far. but we must understand that john was sixteen, stressed, hurt, and facing people who were likely his former bullies, in the sense that everyone used to bully him.

(plus claire, who gathered everyone there, and how was he supposed to know that she didn't mean for it to turn out like that? and plus adrion, who called the authorities on him, which was objectively a good decision, but it can be hard to see it that way when you're the one who the cops are being called on)

in addition to that, if seraphina or even arlo had been ganged up on like that, no one would be surprised if they, too, fucked up their opponents. (remember that turf war back in episode 17/18/something? where arlo clearly wasn't just going to stop hurting rein, not until seraphina physically stopped him?) john was out of control and very much Not Okay, but his handling of the ambush actually seems to be quite typical for a god-tier.

so to conclude, the new bostin ambush/confrontation was more complex than simply john going crazy, and while both he and claire definitely think that he is the only one at fault there and he acted completely irrationally, that isn't actually the case, and uno readers should be aware that we are viewing the story from the perspectives of biased and thus unreliable narrators.

[kustas]

I recently witnessed someone on twitter with the spicy but interesting position of: the only people vehemently bitching against 2D puppets are the animators who have to use them. So, what's the tea, why's this debate even a thing, and is one side wrong?

Rigged 2D animation, also known as puppet animation, and prolly other terms I'm not aware of. Most 2D animators I know treat it with disdain as something they're forced to work on to survive instead of "real" animation (=hand drawn in this case), and while I've encountered less negative sentiments towards the medium coming from fans, I have seen several people complain about it unknowingly, correctly nailing visual aspects they don't like without knowing their cause. Additionally, it can be really hard to tell apart what's rigged and what's hand drawn in 2D, with many series mixing both to their advantage.

The reason for rigged stuff being so prevalent is that it's cheaper and faster. Where hand drawn requires redrawing your entire character/thing frame by frame to make it move, puppet animation uses, well, puppets, ready-made articulated models you just need to pose. It's also possible to use interpolation - instead of deciding by hand every image between two poses, you let the computer calculate it and come later to tweak how each part moves to make it look good. There is little to no drawing involved in rigged 2D, asides of rare shots that need a little part drawn over when the puppet can't do something specific, or drawing the eyes/mouths/hands/etc when you're making the puppets themselves. Notice I said series and not films in my previous paragraph - this is because animations with longer runtimes and/or shorter production times benefit strongly from this medium. You will not need to clean, to inbetween, to color and whatever other steps can go in hand drawn 2D when you have puppets. You can use the interpolations to your advantage on some movements. It's near impossible to be off model. You don't even need to draw!

And most animators uh, they're here because they like to draw. You can say animating and drawing are two different things, that is true, I've even heard it from the mouth of an insanely talented hand drawn animator called Liane-Cho Han who described himself as a poor drawer despite an impressive 2D portfolio. Poor drawer, good animator, it blew my mind at the time but when I started animating I understood what he meant. But puppet animation is still animation, and much closer to how 3D animation works, with stop-motion being comparable to hand drawn in terms of difference between these mediums. Yet you don't see industry-spanning bitching about 3D vs stop motion! This leads to my next point: puppets are limiting.

One of the advantages of hand drawn animation compared with other animation techniques especially those using character rigs is that you're not limited to said rigs. You can just draw anything, regardless of digital puppet constraints, of art style, of physics. If you can put it on paper, you can animate it. Puppets, both 3D and 2D, have limitations - the art needs to be made (sculpt, drawings) and be placed on a complex invisible digital skeleton allowing you to correctly manipulate your character, which is a job in itself. The more stuff you want your character to be able to do, the more complex it gets. You can't automate all of it. This means productions with lower budget and/or ambitions will tend to have simpler rigs which allow less. An example is angles: when you're hand drawing a character and want to pose them, you can pick whatever angle you'd like for all body parts. Rigs might not give this as an option, especially subtler angles of the head and foreshortening. This might make some movements you had in mind impossible, with a need to stylize your poses and your breakdowns. Not being able to have these angles can make for animation that looks stiff or awkward and can be very annoying to work with depending on the animator.

That artificial stiffness is to me, one of the telling signs something is rigged, and part of the reasons I don't like it myself! That's right, I'm with the haters here. Except stiffness doesn't necessarily mean something used digital rigs, and stiffness isn't inherently a bad thing - as with all art styles, it can just be that, a stylistic choice. Enters a director who's work I'll use as a counter example to the dislike of 2D puppets, both from an animator's and a hater layman's point of view on the results: Michel Ocelot.

Famous in France and way less internationally, two staples of his work are his fixations on fairytales and Africa. Fittingly, his most famous movie is probably Kirikou, a feature film which mixes both. Ocelot's work is stylized in a way unique to him, which can make his work very repetitive, but also makes it instantly recognizable. Some of his staples include static shot compositions, actors that talk like they're reading their lines out of an old book, busy backgrounds and folk tale tropes. Stiffness is just a part of what his movies look like, as are art styles that take inspiration from traditional art and past periods. He started out working before digital puppets were a thing, and while he's embraced digital techniques, releasing a full CG feature film in the 00s before it was the norm, he has worked without, including on Kirikou which is animated the old way.

The earliest of his films I've seen is called Princes and Princesses, it's already got everything typical of his work, and one of the latest of his films I've seen (and among my personal favorites of everything he's done) is called Black Pharaoh, and while decades and different techniques separate these two, they're both based around, you guessed it, puppets. P&P is a blatant hommage/reference to animation pioneer Lotte Reiniger, who used literal paper puppets to animate fantasy movies who's style is very reminiscent of the graceful, slightly simplified illustrations popular at the time. Black Pharaoh uses digital 2D puppets and is entirely animated using the (meticulously researched) style of ancient egyptian wall paintings. Both of these films tell a story, not like movies usually do, but like an orator retelling a tale does. And it works! The characters don't move in a 3D space, but it doesn't matter, they're from a fresco or are paper. The character's don't move realistically and it doesn't matter either, they're not trying to trick your eyes into looking real, they're characters of a story. Ocelot's films are a case where using puppets and their limitations works in favor of the film, not otherwise, and his stuff that's not made with puppets looks like it could be.

I'll briefly talk about a film I hate here to make the final point before my conclusion, netflix's Klaus. This is a film who's insanely impressive animation has floored people regardless of how much they know about animating. Unlike a lot of "this looks very cool" (actually p easy to make) animations you see going viral online, here everyone's right, it is indeed insanely hard to animate like that. Klaus was hailed because of it's uncanny ability to look like modern CG while being entirely hand drawn, which I think is stupid, because it's a lot of effort and talent wasted for a result that looks incredibly generic. Would this film have been bad if it had used CG? Why do people think hand drawn is better than CG in the first place? That I can't answer but the reason studios use it is money: either because it's trendy and will make more money because it's trendy, or because it's cheaper to make, which depends on what you're trying to achieve. In the end, they're techniques. Techniques have pros and cons and things they're better at than others. Time and money are essential to producing a film wether you like it or not.

So: are people wrong to hate on puppets? Nah, it's a question of taste. You can hate the look a technique gives and that's fine. But "ugly" is subjective and it's important to be aware of that if critiquing stuff is your job.

Was that tweet right? Yeah, pretty much, lol. For many if not most animators it's a technique they're forced to use, that removes a major reason they like their job from said job, and can be frustrating to work with. It's worth noting a lot of the work you'll get nowadays is on cheap productions, and the techniques they'll use most will be associated with the slop they are. Doesn't mean you'll inherently make slop. A technique is just that, a technique.

[ghuleh-recs]

Cardinal Copia had his own Fic Rec Friday and now it’s Popia’s turn. I've compiled a healthy mix of x reader and x ghoul below. A little something for everyone! I may have gotten a little carried away— there's a lot to see here so make good use of your ao3 bookmarks!

Take my hand. Let’s read about the HBIC together. ♡

recs under the cut.

Papa x Reader

Don't Go - @ramblingoak - papa iv x gn!reader

While trying to convince Papa to cancel the tour you end up confessing how you feel about him.

Rough Day - @writingjourney - papa iv x f!reader

papa takes care of you after a rough day.

Your Star Wrapped in My Cloak - @sherwood-forests - papa iv x f!reader

You find Copia in the library, in hopes of apologizing.

VIII Strength - @anamelessfool - gn!reader

VIII STRENGTH Strength (Physical and Will), courage, persuasion, influence, compassion Copia is a pent up sort of man, he always has been. He enjoys being Papa but on his worst days the title has a near physical weight pressed across his shoulders. He comes home to you, and you can tell when it's been one of those days. Luckily, he has you to guide him.

Forbidden Fruit - @ink-and-dagger - papa iv x f!reader

It's a pleasant surprise to stumble upon the newly ordained Papa Emeritus IV browsing through the library stacks. Even more pleasant that he happens to be halfway up a rolling ladder, and wearing one of his sinfully tight suits. What better opportunity to give Copia's cakes the attention they deserve. Or No snakes needed to convince you to take a bite out of this apple.

Forever Yours - @sweatandwoe - papa iv x gn!reader

Ever since you had entered into a relationship with him, you had learned three strict rules about Copia. One, he did not like to be tickled in any situation. Two, he always had to have a drink after sex. Three, the make-up stayed on. The first two were easy to follow but the third though, was getting harder to try not to bend.

Worship - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x transmasc!reader

Tumblr Request: trans!copia worshipping your body after your t shots have had time to work. he understands how to worship your body properly bc he’s been through the transition, he gets it.

on leather wings - @ghostchems - papa iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

Papa IV x Ghouls

tumblr ficlet - @st-danger - papa iv x dewdrop

"Papa," Dew murmurs, and Copia feels a tremor move through him; there's a particular voice Dewdrop uses when he wants something. Silky and dark and slow. A drawl. It's what he's using now, and he hasn't the ability to deny him anything. And if Dewdrop is about to angle for a little action, backstage and hurried with Copia in his papal robes- well. It'd be sinful, of course. And it would be wrong to not take advantage of that, right?

What's My Name? - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x swiss

"Why don't you ask me how I'm doing?" in which, the audience doesn't refer to Papa as "Papa" and it strikes a chord.

And You Know That It Takes Two - @forlorn-crows - papa iv x dewdrop

“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?” When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.

tumblr ficlet - @littlemoon-beam - papa iv x dewdrop

He can't look away from his hands, the way the veins flex under his skin as he expertly plays. Copia hears his own shuddering breath, wishing he could feel them on his skin even if only for a moment. He'd worship every fingertip if given half the chance. What really gets him though, what makes his chest tight and his stomach twist, is when he finishes and smiles, head tilted and eyes bright. "Was that ok, Papa?"

Changing of the Seasons - @kissingghouls - papa iv x cirrus

Cirrus and Copia share an umbrella on a rainy day.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡