#watching season 1 in one day does that to you

[chuuyaspinkmotorcycle16]

Day 21: Arcade

Chuuya watches the blinking red ‘Game Over’ screen in front him, the feeling of defeat infesting his insides once again as Dazai cackles from the other side of the gaming machine. 

Hands fisting with rage-induced tremors, he springs up, knocking his stool aside and looking over the top at the brunet. “Rematch, you cheating bastard!”

Dazai giggles, a smirk on his lips as he meets Chuuya’s eyes. “But Chuuya, that’s what you said last time. And the time before that and the time before–”

Chuuya screeches, dropping his head onto the machine and groaning out the rest of his frustrations. It is true, much to his derision, he has lost the last… four (?) matches. All he knows is that the score is 1-to-5 in Dazai’s favor, meaning the mackerel is the winner of this versus session.

After venting his not-so-kind thoughts into Dazai and the machine, he stands straight to cross his arms as narrows his eyes at Dazai. “Alright, what’ll it be this time?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Let me think about it,” Dazai says, getting up himself.

“What?! You had this whole time to think about it, are you shitting–”

Dazai grabs Chuuya’s hand suddenly, pointing across the arcade to something that Chuuya can’t even see thanks to a different machine in his way. Stupid beanpole and his stupid height.

“I want that! Chuuya has to get it for me as punishment!” Dazai does a little hop, whining more as he keeps pointing.

Of course he couldn’t clarify what it is. Chuuya doesn’t know if he’s about to agree to paying for a dumb trinket or the whole arcade.

“Stop that,” Chuuya starts, grabbing Dazai’s outstretched arm to reel it in before he smacks some unsuspecting person. “Tell me exactly what it is and what you want me to do. I’m not being forced to do extra work again because you didn’t specify the rules.”

Dazai rolls his eyes, snatching Chuuya’s wrist and practically dragging him to his destination before Chuuya can even react.

As they keep twisting and turning, Chuuya’s beginning to wonder how the bastard even saw whatever he’s aiming for.

And then he sees it.

It’s in one of the claw machines on the top shelf where people with no self-control are supposed to stick the claw’s handle through an itty-bitty hole.

Chuuya does have to admit, though – it IS cute. Very much so. And fluffy enough to have those blankets stores only bring out for the holiday season fucking jealous. 

Staring back at Chuuya with beady, shining eyes is one ginger, stuffed-plush cat big enough to fill Dazai’s greedy arms.

He’ll give it to Dazai – this is nowhere near the worst punishment he’s given. That doesn’t mean Chuuya has to be happy about it as he yanks out his wallet, though.

With even more grumbles, he inserts his first bill of the night, watching with the most deadpan expression he can make as the machine lights up, LEDs going wild in front of them at the prospect of another sucker.

Unfortunately, Chuuya knows how this part of the game goes. Dazai’s grip is tight on him, eyes laser-pointed at the item of his desire. 

Chuuya takes a breath, trying to focus as he feels the heat of Dazai’s hands seeping through his clothes. With a blink, he moves the stick controller, bringing the key towards the little hole on the other side of the glass. He pauses.

Behind him, he hears Dazai sniff, the judgement of it clear to Chuuya. The redhead whirls around.

“Bastard, fix it yourself–” and from the corner of his eye, he sees the key start to move forward, the timer having run out.

It misses by a centimeter. Chuuya growls, getting ready to insert the next bill.

Dazai continues his hold on him, this time going so far as to wrap his arms around his shoulders from behind and lean his head against the side of Chuuya’s.

The electric lights do their silly little dance again, and this time Chuuya makes sure to concentrate. This machine will. not. beat. him.

He lines it up, taking a moment to think. Dazai taps his chest twice, and Chuuya shifts the stick to the right the smallest amount he possibly can.

Just as he’s about to hit the button to get it to move, something bumps into Dazai and thus him, pushing him forward enough to hit the stick and the timer goes off.

Chuuya watches as the handle misses by more than just a centimeter.

And then a chill goes down his spine. He shifts in Dazai’s hold, glancing up and over his shoulder to see those black hole eyes pinpointed on a kid who didn’t even bother to apologize. Before the Demon Prodigy can cause anyone, child or not, to piss themselves, Chuuya shrugs him off.

He inserts one more bill. Just as Dazai moves to go back to his perch, Chuuya sticks his hand out to stop him.

The machine whirls to life again, this time with a red glow barely enveloping it. Chuuya brings the handle to where it was before using the actual stick, then from here he lets the machine do its thing.

As the key moves forward, he forces the machine to line itself up in the correct position, feeling the mechanics trying to go against him but they’re no use against the power of gravity.

The key fits perfectly, unlocking the glass box holding the plush and releasing it into a hole beneath it. A thunk near their feet alerts them to its delivery, and Dazai is quick to snatch it up and into his waiting arms, any traces of the Demon Prodigy long gone as he beams at Chuuya.

“Thanks, Chibi!” He squeezes the cat against his chest, and Chuuya tries to ignore the small thrill of butterflies flying around his stomach.

He frowns, looking away and crossing his arms. “Tch, whatever.”

He opens his eyes again. There, across from them in a corner of the store he couldn’t see earlier, is one of those shooting carnival games, this time with nerf darts to avoid any liabilities.

And above it, hanging from a little loop connected to the roof, is a black cat plush — reminiscent of Dazai’s new one to the point it could be from the same brand, a matching set.

He only spends a second staring at it, debating, before turning away. He’s got better things to spend his money on. It doesn’t matter how soft it looks or how cute. He’s not a kid like Dazai.

He makes a move for the exit, intent on getting out before he can rethink his decisions.

A foot to his shins has him almost hitting the floor. He knows exactly who did it as he catches himself. He couldn’t use his ability just then, after all.

“Dazai, what the fu–”

“Shh, there’s children in here,” Dazai admonishes, his trademark fake gasp popping out, albeit a little less dramatic. Before Chuuya can question it, Dazai’s twirling around to face the carnival-esque shooting game and marching forward, one of his hands wrapped around Chuuya’s wrist much like before.

“One round, please,” the brunet says, taking out his own wallet that Chuuya’s never actually seen until now and handing the cash over to the employee. With the nerf gun equipped, he glances at Chuuya for a split second and sends him a smirk. “Watch and learn, Chuuya.”

Chuuya really can only watch and learn as Dazai effortlessly hits five different targets in their bullseyes, one after the other. The electronics connected to them flash over and over with each hit.

And once a moment has passed for both the employee and Chuuya to pick up their jaws – mostly the employee, though – Dazai sets the gun back down and merely points up at the black cat plush.

The employee gets it down, leaving it on the counter for them to take.

Chuuya doesn’t immediately reach for it. Why would Dazai do this? It doesn’t make sense to him.

Dazai nudges his shoulder and he hesitantly reaches out to grab the plush.

Today is one of the few days he decided to forgo his gloves; the cat’s fur is just as soft as it looked. From here, he can tell that this one is a black version of Dazai’s, a duo set.

He’s never had a plush of his own.

“Why?” he asks, avoiding Dazai’s eyes as he stares into the black fur. Something in his chest is warming up. What, he doesn’t know.

“Chuuya wanted him,” Dazai says, shifting on his feet to sway from his toes to the balls of his feet. “And a thank-you for Slug.”

/That/ causes Chuuya to look up. “Hah?”

“What? He looks like chibi, doesn’t he?” Dazai shoves the orange plush into Chuuya’s face. “See, see?”

Chuuya scoffs, shoving ‘Slug’ out of the way. He sticks his tongue out. “If he’s Slug, then this one’s Mackerel.”

Dazai laughs then, high and airy – genuine – and Chuuya can only attempt to hide his reddening cheeks behind Mackerel’s head. He follows as the brunet leads them outside where the sun has begun to set.

And once they’re a few blocks away, when their lighthearted jabs fade into a comfortable silence, Chuuya gives his own thanks, earning the endearing sight of Dazai’s widened eyes and tinged cheeks before the other tries to wave it away.

[pharawee]

🖇️BL WATCHLIST DECEMBER 🎄

🎬The Heart Killers - IQIYI | GAGAOOLALA | YOUTUBE - I'm watching, yes, but I'm more hoping I can passively enjoy this show through my dashboard.

🎬Winter Is Not the Death of Summer But the Birth of Spring - YOUTUBE - I love the idea of this but unfortunately I'm waaay behind with watching.

🎬Spare Me Your Mercy - IQIYI | YOUTUBE - My favourite Sammon novel, now on fast-track to becoming one of my fave BLs.

🎬Fourever You - WeTV | YOUTUBE - I still love this show very much, especially for the actors, but I'm beginning to struggle with the slice-of-life aspect of it.

🎬Caged Again - WeTV | GAGAOOLALA - I love one (1) show. 🐧🐈‍⬛

🎬Love in the Air - 恋の予感 - GAGAOOLALA - It's so much fun to revisit this and spot all the differences. Plus, free Japanese lesson.

🎬Petrichor - IQIYI - I'm watching this a few days later with the gf but so far I like it a lot.

🖇️CALENDAR (THAI PRODUCTIONS ONLY)

🖇️UPCOMING

🎬Addicted Heroin (Special Episode) - YOUTUBE - All I know about this is that it's a special ep set after the end of the series and (probably) leading into the second season (if it gets made).

🎬Hidden - YOUTUBE - I'm not sure if this is a BL or even a series but it has Tong Thanayut in it and apparently will release independently on youtube. I'll keep you updated.

🎬Eyes on You - YOUTUBE - This is a co-production between Hong Kong and Thailand and will also release independently on youtube. I'm not sure if this release is for the full series or just an episode 0. I'll keep you updated on this too.

🎬ThamePo - I liked the pilot trailer more than the actual release trailer but when does that ever not happen? I'll probably watch this casually (the way I watched Kidnap) and make a few gifsets on the side if the fancy strikes.

🎬The Renovation - This looks really good and I hope they make this available internationally. 🤞

🎬Sangmin Dinneaw - So apparently this is going to be released at the end of December? And it's a Thai production with a Korean actor? That's all I really know about it. Wait, Rossi and Non are in it so I need to watch.

➕ MDL | ABOUT | ALL WATCHLISTS | COMMENTARY & NEWS TAG | THAI BL NOVELS | BL INDUSTRY | UPCOMING | SPOOKY BL

[novaursa]

Between Pride and Fire (the fire)

- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.

- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: 1

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The feast pavilion was alive with the clamor of celebration. Torches flickered, casting light over long tables laden with roasted meats, fresh bread, and sweet fruits. Goblets overflowed with wine, and the air buzzed with the mingled sounds of music, laughter, and the occasional bawdy toast in honor of the prince’s second nameday.

Jason Lannister sat with his family, the crimson and gold of their house blending seamlessly into the rich decor of the feast. Tyland lounged beside him, sipping his wine with the ease of someone entirely uninterested in the merriment around him. Jason, however, had only half an ear for his brother’s dry observations about the day’s events. His attention was elsewhere, subtly focused on you.

You were seated near the king, your silver hair catching the torchlight as you engaged in conversation with a small group of lords. One of them, a stout man with a booming voice—Lord Marbrand, Jason realized—was gesturing animatedly as he spoke. Even from this distance, Jason could see the flush of wine on Marbrand’s cheeks and the exaggerated enthusiasm in his expression.

"And I say, Your Grace," Marbrand declared loudly, raising his goblet to King Viserys, "the princess here has the eye of a hawk and the hand of a seasoned marksman. A single shot, straight to the stag’s eye—cleaner than any I’ve seen in my years of hunting!"

Viserys chuckled, his face glowing with wine and paternal pride as he looked at you. "Well, she has always been headstrong, my daughter. A credit to her Targaryen blood, no doubt."

Jason’s lips curved into a faint smile. It seemed the conversation was ripe for his particular talents. Rising from his seat, he brushed off Tyland’s quizzical glance and strolled toward the king’s table, goblet in hand.

As he approached, Marbrand’s booming voice continued. "I daresay, Your Grace, she has more skill than most men here. A rare combination—beauty and deadly precision."

Jason stopped just behind Marbrand, his tone light but cutting as he interjected. "Careful, Lord Alyn. Too much praise might go to the princess’s head, and then where would we be? A hunt where none of us dare loose an arrow for fear of comparison?"

The group turned toward him, some laughing, others watching curiously. You, however, met his gaze with a steady calm, a hint of amusement playing on your lips.

"Ah, Lord Lannister," Viserys greeted, gesturing for Jason to join them. "I trust you enjoyed the feast?"

Jason inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, Your Grace. Though I must admit, the conversation here seems far more entertaining than what my family has to offer."

Viserys laughed, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Join us, then. Lord Alyn was just regaling us with tales of my daughter’s exploits in the hunt."

Jason took the offered seat beside Alyn, setting his goblet down with deliberate ease. "I’ve seen enough to know I’m in the presence of a legend," he said, his gaze flicking to you. "Tell me, Princess, how does it feel to overshadow my hunting party with a single shot?"

You arched a brow, your voice smooth as silk as you replied, "I wouldn’t know, Lord Lannister. Overshadowing others isn’t my aim—it’s merely a byproduct of competence."

The table rippled with quiet laughter, and Jason’s smirk deepened. "Competence, yes. But I wonder, do you ever miss the thrill of a challenge? Or is it enough to simply excel at everything?"

Your eyes narrowed slightly, though the amusement never left your face. "A challenge, you say? I find they come often enough without me seeking them out, my lord. For instance, the challenge of enduring a conversation with someone who talks in circles."

Viserys chuckled, shaking his head as he looked between the two of you. "You two bicker like an old married couple. Tell me, Jason, are you here to compliment my daughter or provoke her?"

Jason leaned back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Your Grace, I find the princess far too skilled to require mere compliments. Provoking her, on the other hand, seems to bring out her best."

Alyn laughed heartily, clapping Jason on the shoulder. "Careful, Lannister. You’ll find yourself on the receiving end of one of her arrows if you’re not careful."

You inclined your head toward Alyn, your tone dry. "A tempting suggestion, my lord. But I fear he might consider it a compliment."

Jason laughed along with the group, clearly enjoying the sparring as much as the audience. "You wound me, Your Highness," he said, placing a hand over his heart with mock solemnity. "But I suppose that’s the price of engaging with the sharpest mind in the Kingswood."

Viserys watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement, shaking his head as he reached for his goblet. "You’re a bold man, Jason. Though I’m not sure I understand what game you’re playing."

Jason’s smirk widened as he lifted his own goblet. "Your Grace, sometimes the hunt isn’t about the kill—it’s about the pursuit. And I must say, this one has proven… particularly enjoyable."

The group laughed again, though Viserys’s brow furrowed slightly, as though trying to decipher Jason’s true intent. You, however, gave Jason one last pointed look before turning back to the king.

"Perhaps we should leave the pursuit to the hounds, my lord," you said, your tone smooth. "They, at least, know when to stop chasing their tails."

Jason’s laughter followed you as you turned your attention back to Alyn, though his gaze lingered on you longer than was entirely proper. For Jason, the conversation had been a hunt of its own—a game of words where the prize was not victory, but the thrill of matching wits with someone who could truly challenge him. And as the feast continued, he found himself eagerly anticipating the next round.

The revelry of the feast had finally begun to die down. The laughter that once echoed across the camp was now a distant murmur, punctuated only by the occasional drunken cheer or the soft strumming of a minstrel’s lute. Most of the lords and ladies had retired to their tents, the remnants of the celebration now left to flickering torchlight and the heady haze of too much wine.

Jason Lannister lingered by the long table, his goblet still in hand, watching as the servants began to clear the remains of the feast. His hair was slightly mussed, his doublet loosened at the collar, and his green eyes glinted with the remnants of wine-induced boldness. He was feeling light-headed but far from drunk. No, the confidence coursing through him came from something more potent than alcohol: you.

He had been watching you all evening, as he often did, though tonight was different. Tonight, there was no courtly restraint anymore, no audience to judge him. Tonight, you were just as untamed as he imagined you to be. The sharp remarks you had exchanged earlier in the evening still lingered in his mind, stoking a fire that refused to be extinguished.

Jason’s gaze swept across the camp until he spotted you. You stood near a dwindling fire, speaking with a servant who seemed to be delivering some minor report. Your silver hair glowed in the torchlight, and the soft breeze played with the loose tendrils that framed your face. You looked every bit the dragon you were, regal and untouchable, but Jason had never been one to shy away from danger.

He approached without hesitation, his steps steady despite the wine. “Princess,” he called, his voice smooth and carrying a hint of amusement.

You turned, your violet eyes narrowing slightly as you regarded him. “Lord Jason,” you replied coolly, though the faint flicker of annoyance in your tone was familiar—and enticing. “What do you want?”

He grinned, raising his goblet in mock salute. “To enjoy the pleasure of your company once more, of course.”

You crossed your arms, your lips curving into a sardonic smile. “The hour is late. Shouldn’t you be off to your tent, sleeping off the effects of your wine?”

Jason tilted his head, his grin widening. “And miss the chance to speak with the most captivating woman at this feast? I think not.”

You rolled your eyes, though the faintest hint of a smile betrayed you. “You’re drunk.”

“Not drunk,” he corrected, stepping closer. “Merely emboldened.”

Your gaze flickered to his, sharp and assessing. “And what has emboldened you, Lord Jason? The wine? Or your own arrogance?”

He chuckled, unbothered by your barb. “Neither,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s you, Princess. You make it impossible to stay away.”

The rest of night was a blur.

Words were whispered, curses exchanged, and challenges issued, but in the end, all that remained was the fire that burned between you.

The morning sun filtered through the flaps of the tent, its light casting a light over the disheveled interior. Jason Lannister stirred, groaning as the dull ache in his head made itself known. Wine. Too much wine. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the brightness, his movements slow as his mind clawed its way out of the haze of the previous night.

As he shifted, his body registered a weight pressed against him. The warmth was unmistakable. His hand brushed against bare skin—soft, smooth, undeniably feminine. His breath hitched, and his eyes flew open, darting to the figure nestled against his chest.

You.

Your silver hair was tangled from sleep, strands spilling over his chest and the pillows. Your breathing was even, your lashes resting against flushed cheeks, and your body was shamelessly pressed against his. The blanket barely covered the two of you, slipping low enough to reveal the curve of your back and the expanse of his own bare chest.

Jason's heart pounded as fragmented memories began to surface—your sharp tongue cutting through the revelry of the feast, the way you had effortlessly loosed an arrow that struck the stag through its eye, earning gasps and admiration. He had been irritated by the smug glance you threw his way, yet he couldn't deny the pride he felt in witnessing such skill.

Then there was a feast, the wine, the biting words exchanged between you, the heat of your anger. It was all a blur of barbed insults and laughter, until suddenly it wasn’t. The anger had shifted, transformed into something far more dangerous, far more consuming.

His eyes scanned the tent, taking in the chaos. His chair was overturned, the table askew, goblets spilled on the floor. A vase was shattered in the corner. The unmistakable marks of a passionate, frenzied night were everywhere. Jason swallowed hard, his gaze returning to you as realization dawned. He had bedded the younger Targaryen princess, his adversary in wit and arrogance.

"Seven hells," he muttered under his breath, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips despite his shock. The memories began to piece themselves together more clearly now—your defiance, the way you'd shoved him, his hand gripping your wrist to steady you, the sudden proximity that had set the air between you alight.

His smirk grew into a full grin. He couldn’t even recall what he had said to make you kiss him, but he remembered the way you had pulled him to you, the way your body had fit against his as if you had been made for him.

"What in the Seven did I do to deserve this?" he murmured, leaning his head back against the pillow with a chuckle.

You stirred then, a soft sound escaping your lips as you began to wake. Jason felt his body tense, unsure of what your reaction would be. He braced himself, watching as your lashes fluttered and your eyes opened. For a moment, you looked disoriented, your gaze darting around the room before landing on him.

And then, just as he'd expected, your face twisted into a scowl.

"What in the name of the gods—" you started, your voice groggy but laced with irritation as you yanked the blanket up to cover yourself.

Jason smirked, the amusement clear in his tone. "Good morning to you too, Princess. Sleep well?"

Your eyes narrowed as you sat up, clutching the blanket to your chest. "Sleep well? What in the Seven Hells happened here, Lannister?"

He gestured lazily to the tent around you. "Well, it seems we had quite the... spirited evening."

Your gaze flickered over the state of the tent, the flush on your cheeks deepening. "This—this is your fault!" you accused, pointing a finger at him.

Jason raised a brow, his grin widening. "My fault? You were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me."

You sputtered, your indignation only fueling his amusement. "You must have bewitched me, or—or poured more wine into my cup!"

Jason laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. "Oh, is that what happened? I suppose it was also my doing when you dragged me to the floor over there, or when you climbed on top of me—"

"Enough!" you snapped, your cheeks burning as you glared at him.

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other. Your chest rose and fell with the force of your anger, but Jason couldn't tear his eyes away. You were radiant in your fury, every bit the dragon you were rumored to be.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, he reached for you.

"What are you—" you started, but your words were cut off as his lips captured yours.

The kiss was as heated and intense as the ones from the night before, your initial resistance melting away as your hands found their way to his hair. Jason pulled you into his lap, the blanket falling away as his hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and glaring, you muttered, "I still hate you, you know."

Jason smirked, his hands gripping your hips. "And yet here we are."

You rolled your eyes but didn't pull away, and as his lips found yours once more, the chaos of the previous night threatened to reignite all over again.

Jason’s hands roamed over your bare skin, reveling in the softness of it, in the way your body arched against him. The heat between you both was undeniable, an inferno that threatened to consume everything. Your hands dug into his shoulders as his mouth left a trail of kisses along your neck, biting gently at the tender spot that had you gasping.

“Still so fiery, even now,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot. His lips curled into a grin as he nipped your earlobe. “You hate me, remember?”

“I do,” you shot back, your voice breathless but defiant, your nails scratching down his back in retaliation. “Don’t forget it.”

Jason chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Hate me all you like, Princess,” he said, his tone rough. “But I’d wager you won’t forget this when I’m back at the Rock.”

Your body stiffen slightly beneath him, but he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pulling you closer. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teased. “Wondering what it’ll be like when I’m gone.” His hand traced lazy circles on your lower back. “You could visit me, you know. That dragon of yours could make the trip in half a day.”

You scoffed, though your breath hitched as he shifted, his hands firm on your hips. “You think I’d fly all the way to the Rock for you? You’re delusional, Lannister.”

Jason smirked, his voice dropping lower. “Oh, I think you would. Imagine it—just you and me, no court, no prying eyes. I’d keep you in my bed for days.” His fingers slid to the small of your back, applying just enough pressure to send shivers up your spine. “You’d come, Princess. Admit it.”

Your response was swift and sharp, a string of Valyrian curses that Jason didn’t understand but could guess the meaning of. He laughed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, before his grip tightened.

Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach, pinning you beneath him. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, quickly muffled as he moved against you, his weight keeping you in place. “You bastard,” you hissed, your voice muffled against the pillows.

Jason leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “Language, Princess,” he said mockingly, his tone dripping with amusement. “You wouldn’t want anyone overhearing and thinking I’ve tamed the mighty dragon.”

You twisted your head to glare at him, your silver hair spilling over your shoulders. “You’ve tamed nothing,” you spat, though the heat in your voice betrayed you.

Jason grinned wickedly, his hand sliding up your spine. “No?” he drawled, drawing the word out. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that by the time I’m done.”

He moved again, slow and deliberate, drawing a sharp gasp from you. Your fingers clutched at the blankets beneath you as his pace quickened, though he made no effort to silence his own low groans of pleasure.

“You’re loud,” you bit out, your voice strained, though the accusation lacked any real venom.

Jason laughed, the sound dark and rich. “I’m loud?” he echoed, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your neck. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

You muttered another curse, though your voice broke halfway through, and Jason’s grin widened. “You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured, his tone softer, though his pace never faltered. “Completely undone, and all because of me.”

Your response was a half-hearted insult, but Jason only chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Princess,” he said, his voice rough but tinged with affection. “We’ll keep this between us—for now. But if you ever decide to visit me, I’ll make sure to remind you of this.”

Jason’s breaths came fast and uneven as he pushed deeper into you, his hands gripping your hips to hold you firmly against him. His lips brushed your shoulder as he found his release, his body trembling with the intensity of it. As the heat of the moment ebbed, he held you close, his arms anchoring you to him as if afraid to let go.

You twisted your head to glance over your shoulder, your tone sharp despite your breathlessness. “What are you doing?”

Jason smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your neck. “Savoring this,” he murmured, his voice rough and unapologetic. His hands slid along your waist, his grip possessive. “I’m not going anywhere, Princess. Not yet.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words dissolved into a soft moan as he shifted slightly within you. Your body betrayed you, responding to his closeness despite your indignation. You hated him in that moment, hated how he could unnerve you with just a touch.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though the bite in your tone was weakened by your uneven breathing.

Jason chuckled, the sound low and smug. “And yet, here we are. Tell me, Princess, do you always enjoy being rude, or is it just with me?”

You glared at him, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I enjoy nothing about this, least of all you.”

He hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Oh, I don’t think that’s true. You wouldn’t be so adamant if you didn’t enjoy it. Perhaps you like the idea of carrying a golden-haired bastard?”

Your eyes widened, and you tried to turn fully to face him, but his hold on you was unrelenting. “What did you just say?” you demanded, your voice sharp.

Jason grinned, his tone teasing as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I said, perhaps you like the idea. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be enjoying this so much.”

You shoved at him, your cheeks flushing with indignation. “I would rather die than bear your bastard, Lannister.”

He laughed, the sound rich and infuriating. “Oh, Princess, don’t lie to yourself. You’d make a fine mother, and I’d wager our child would be the talk of the realm.”

“You’re pretentious,” you snapped, finally managing to twist out of his grasp and grabbing the discarded blanket to cover yourself. “No wonder you’re still unmarried. Who would want to deal with you?”

Jason leaned back against the pillows, his grin unfaltering. “Perhaps I’m unmarried because I haven’t met anyone worth the trouble. Or perhaps I’m just waiting for a dragon to fall into my lap.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the blanket around you. “You’re old, Jason. You’d better hurry before there’s no one left who’ll take you.”

He raised a brow, his smirk only growing. “Old, am I? Was I old when you were clawing at my back last night? Or when you were moaning my name?”

Your cheeks burned, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “I was clearly in a moment of weakness.”

Jason chuckled, reaching out to brush a strand of your hair from your face. “If that’s what weakness looks like, I’ll gladly endure it again. But admit it, Princess. You enjoyed yourself.”

You slapped his hand away, glaring at him. “Enjoyed? Don’t flatter yourself, Lannister.”

He grinned, utterly unbothered. “Your body tells a different story, Y/N.” His tone was smooth, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “You can deny it all you like, but I know the truth.”

You stood, clutching the blanket around you as you began searching for your clothes amidst the chaos of the tent. “You’re unbearable. I hope this hunt ends soon so I never have to see your smug face again.”

Jason propped himself up on an elbow, watching you with an amused expression. “I’ll take that as a yes to visiting me at the Rock.”

You turned, fixing him with a withering glare. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t burn the Rock to ash the next time I’m near it.”

His laugh followed you as you stormed out of the tent, and despite your irritation, you couldn’t entirely suppress the warmth lingering in your chest. Jason Lannister might be infuriating, but the way he had looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered—was a memory you couldn’t quite shake.

The royal hunt had come to an end, and the clearing bustled with the activity of houses and guests preparing for their departure. Tents were being dismantled, banners lowered, and wagons loaded. The crisp morning air was filled with the neighing of horses, the bark of hounds, and the murmur of voices as nobles exchanged farewells.

Jason Lannister stood near the edge of the clearing, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight as he watched the royal family gather for their departure. You were there, dressed in a fine riding gown, standing beside King Viserys, your sister Rhaenyra, Queen Alicent holding little Prince Aegon, and a host of attendants. You looked regal, unapproachable, as you helped steady the restless two-year-old clinging to his mother’s skirts. Yet Jason’s smirk deepened, his mind still replaying the events of the previous night.

“Jason, don’t,” Tyland said in a low voice, standing beside his twin. “You’re playing with fire.”

Jason barely spared him a glance, already striding toward the royal family. “I never could resist the flame,” he murmured, leaving Tyland to mutter something under his breath as he followed at a distance.

You stiffened the moment you saw Jason approach, his confident stride and faint smirk instantly setting you on edge. Your father, King Viserys, noticed him first and brightened, extending a hand in welcome.

“Lord Jason!” Viserys called warmly. “What brings you here this morning? Surely the Lannisters don’t mean to delay their departure?”

Jason bowed deeply, his hand over his heart. “Your Grace, not at all. I came to pay my respects and to bid farewell to your lovely daughter.” His gaze flicked to you, the smirk returning as he caught the sharp glare you directed at him.

Viserys seemed pleased, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “A fine gesture, Lord Jason. It’s good to see the two of you getting along. I noticed there was quite a… spirited dynamic between you during the hunt.”

“Dynamic is one word for it,” Rhaenyra muttered, earning a sharp glance from Alicent, who remained silent but observant.

Jason stepped closer, his eyes never leaving you as he executed another perfect bow, this time directly in front of you. He extended a hand. “Princess,” he said smoothly, his voice low and pointed. “A proper farewell, if I may.”

Your jaw tightened, but there was no polite way to refuse without drawing attention. With a forced smile, you placed your hand in his. He brought it to his lips, his touch lingering a moment too long. “You’re insane,” you hissed under your breath, your voice so low that only he could hear.

His smirk widened, his lips brushing against your knuckles as he whispered, “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

Your eyes flashed with fury, but you masked it with a serene expression, quickly withdrawing your hand. Jason straightened, his gaze flicking to Viserys, who seemed oblivious to the animosity crackling between you.

“It’s heartening to see you two share such a bond,” Viserys said warmly. “I must admit, it’s rare to see her converse with such ease, let alone tolerate such… persistence.”

“Persistence is often the key to success, Your Grace,” Jason said, his tone both respectful and laden with meaning.

Rhaenyra made a sound that was suspiciously like a scoff, and Alicent tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable as her eyes flicked between you and Jason.

Jason turned back to you, leaning in slightly under the pretense of adjusting his cloak. “A goodbye kiss, Princess?” he murmured, his voice low enough to keep the conversation private.

You shot him a glare, your voice a sharp whisper. “How about I shove my dagger where the sun doesn’t shine instead?”

He chuckled softly, clearly unbothered, before straightening as Viserys stepped closer.

“Jason,” Viserys said, his tone more personal now, “it’s been a pleasure having you here. Perhaps we can continue fostering this camaraderie with a royal visit to Casterly Rock in the near future.”

Jason’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming as he inclined his head. “It would be an honor to host Your Grace and your family. Casterly Rock would welcome you warmly.”

You stared at Jason, your face carefully neutral despite the fire simmering in your chest. How dare he. Viserys, however, seemed genuinely pleased, clapping Jason on the shoulder. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Jason cast a quick glance your way, his expression one of triumph. “Until next time, Princess,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

As he turned to leave, your fingers itched to throw something at him, but you maintained your composure, even as Rhaenyra whispered beside you, “What in the seven hells was that?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, your voice clipped.

Alicent, still silent, watched Jason’s retreating figure for a moment longer before shifting her gaze to you. Her expression remained unreadable, but there was something in her eyes—something knowing. You straightened your shoulders, determined to give nothing away, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

Jason Lannister left the clearing with a swagger in his step, his smirk firmly in place. Whatever his game, he had played it well. And as much as you loathed to admit it, he had left you unsettled in a way no other lord ever had.

The royal procession had begun its journey back to King’s Landing. The rhythmic creak of the carriage and the steady clatter of hooves filled the air as the convoy wound its way through the forested road. Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was both stifling and anxious despite King Viserys’s jovial mood.

Viserys sat across from you, his smile broad and his demeanor unusually buoyant. Alicent sat beside him, cradling the restless baby Aegon in her arms, gently bouncing him as he fussed. “At last,” Viserys declared, his tone warm and triumphant. “One of my daughters has shown the good sense to allow herself to be courted by a proper lord. And not just any lord—a Lannister! Jason is a man of wealth and influence. A fine match.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you stared out the window, the scenery passing in a blur. You tried to ignore the flush of heat creeping up your neck, your father’s words only exacerbating the simmering frustration that Jason had so expertly stirred earlier.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty, Father,” Rhaenyra said, her tone sharp and suspicious. She sat beside you, her arms crossed and her gaze keenly fixed on you. “Y/N has hardly shown any interest in Jason before this. In fact, most of their interactions were more like arguments.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “Arguments? Bah! That’s the nature of young hearts. Passion often starts with friction. Just look at the way they were at the hunt. They couldn’t seem to stop looking at one another.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking to you. “Yes, it was… peculiar, wasn’t it?”

You felt her scrutiny like a blade pressing into your side. Turning your head slightly, you met her gaze with feigned indifference. “I don’t know what you’re implying, sister,” you said coolly. “Jason Lannister is hardly subtle. If he wishes to prance about like a peacock, let him. That doesn’t mean I encourage it.”

“Oh, come now,” Viserys interjected, grinning. “You allowed him to take your hand today, didn’t you? I saw the way he looked at you—like a man utterly enchanted. And you didn’t pull away.”

You glared at your father, your patience thinning. “It would’ve been rude to refuse him in public, wouldn’t it?”

Rhaenyra tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Yet you didn’t seem nearly as reluctant when he whispered to you just before leaving. Should we expect a Lannister proposal soon?”

Your face burned as you shot her a glare. “You’re imagining things, Rhaenyra. Jason Lannister is exactly what he appears to be: an arrogant man with too much coin and too little restraint.”

“Arrogant, perhaps,” Viserys said with a chuckle, “but he’s a capable lord and a valuable ally. If he’s taken an interest in you, my dear, I suggest you consider it seriously.”

“Consider it?” You straightened, your voice laced with defiance. “I don’t see why I should. My sister will eventually marry someone with plenty of influence as your heir. Do we truly need a Lannister alliance as well?”

Viserys sighed, his mood dimming slightly. “It’s not just about alliances. It’s about ensuring that you both find suitable matches. You’re a princess, and Jason would give you a stable and prosperous future.”

Alicent shifted slightly, bouncing Aegon as he reached for one of her braids. “Jason Lannister does seem… persistent,” she said carefully, her voice measured. “But persistence isn’t always a bad quality in a suitor.”

Rhaenyra scoffed softly, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “Stability, perhaps. But I doubt Jason Lannister is what anyone would call ‘suitable.’”

“You don’t like him,” Viserys said, raising an eyebrow at his eldest daughter. “That’s plain enough.”

“It’s not about liking him,” Rhaenyra replied, her gaze flicking to you again. “It’s about whether my sister actually wants this, or if Jason has somehow managed to charm her against her better judgment.”

Your fists clenched in your lap as you tried to suppress the heat rising in your chest. “I assure you, Rhaenyra, my judgment is intact. Whatever Jason Lannister believes or wants is entirely his concern, not mine.”

“Is it?” she asked softly, her eyes narrowing. “You’re unusually defensive.”

“Enough,” Viserys said firmly, glancing between his daughters. “This bickering does no one any good. If Jason Lannister wishes to pursue your hand, I will hear him out when the time comes. Until then, let us focus on returning home without tearing each other apart.”

The carriage fell into an uneasy silence, save for the sound of the wheels turning and the occasional crack of a whip outside. Aegon babbled softly, reaching for Alicent’s braid again as she gently redirected his tiny hand, a faint smile playing on her lips as her gaze flickered between you and Rhaenyra.

You kept your gaze fixed on the passing trees, ignoring the weight of Rhaenyra’s lingering stare. You knew she suspected something, but you had no intention of confirming it—not when the memory of Jason’s smirk, his whispered words, and the fire you had shared still lingered so vividly in your mind.

Viserys, oblivious to the strain between his daughters, sighed contentedly and gazed out the opposite window. “Perhaps a visit to Casterly Rock is in order after all,” he mused aloud, stroking his beard. “Yes, I think that would be a fine idea.”

You closed your eyes, biting back a curse as Rhaenyra’s smirk grew wider. Alicent glanced at Viserys, her expression thoughtful but unreadable. This journey to King’s Landing was going to feel interminable.

The Lannister procession rode at a steady pace along the Kingsroad, the gilded banners of the golden lion blinding under the late morning sun. Jason Lannister rode at the head of the column, his usual self-assured air now amplified by an unmistakable smugness. The weight of the morning’s events still lingered in his mind, bringing an almost wolfish grin to his face that seemed to grow wider with every mile.

Beside him rode his younger twin, Tyland Lannister, who had broken off from the main procession to ride alongside Jason before they would part ways. Tyland’s destination was King’s Landing, where his place on the Small Council awaited. Jason, on the other hand, would soon turn westward, bound for Casterly Rock. As the sound of their horses’ hooves echoed against the road, Tyland cast a sideways glance at his brother.

“You’re insufferably pleased with yourself,” Tyland said dryly, breaking the silence. “What have you done, Jason?”

Jason tilted his head toward his twin, his grin widening. “Done? Me? I’ve done nothing at all.”

Tyland rolled his eyes, his tone sharp. “Spare me your games. That expression of yours could rival the sun for how smug it is. So I’ll ask again—what did you do?”

Jason let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if to feign innocence. “I simply enjoyed the royal hunt and bid the royal family farewell, as any proper lord would.”

“Proper lord?” Tyland echoed, his brow arching in disbelief. “That’s rich, coming from you. The last time you were this pleased with yourself, you’d somehow managed to charm Lady Cyresse into forgiving your ‘indiscretions.’ So out with it—what happened?”

Jason’s grin turned downright wicked, and he slowed his horse slightly, allowing the rest of the procession to ride ahead and give them some semblance of privacy. “If you must know,” he began, his tone laced with self-satisfaction, “I spent the most exquisite night with the younger princess.”

Tyland froze, his eyes widening in horror. “*What?” he hissed, his voice dropping to a sharp whisper. “Jason, please tell me you’re joking.”

“I never joke about such things,” Jason replied smoothly, clearly enjoying his brother’s reaction. “A passionate night,” he said, his voice lowering to a more conspiratorial tone, “and a morning that was even better.”

Tyland paled, his grip tightening on his horse’s reins as he leaned closer to Jason. “Are you mad?” he whispered harshly. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? She’s the king’s daughter, for the gods’ sake!”

“Of course I know,” Jason said, his grin unrepentant. “It’s hardly something one forgets, Tyland. The things that woman can do…” He trailed off, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I’ll admit, I’ll miss her during those lonely nights at Casterly Rock. But,” he added, his tone turning smug once more, “King Viserys did mention that they might visit soon. A stroke of luck, wouldn’t you say?”

Tyland’s face flushed with a mix of panic and exasperation. “Keep your voice down,” he snapped, glancing around to ensure no one could hear. “If anyone overhears you—if she hears you—you’ll be lucky if her dragon doesn’t roast you alive.”

Jason laughed, completely unfazed. “Her dragon might, but I doubt she would. Trust me, Tyland, she enjoyed herself just as much as I did. Perhaps more.”

Tyland groaned, running a hand through his hair as he muttered under his breath. “You’re going to get yourself killed one day. Or worse—get me killed.”

Jason waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, brother. No harm done. If anything, I’ve done House Lannister a favor. A connection with the Targaryens is invaluable, wouldn’t you agree?”

Tyland stared at him, his expression a mixture of disbelief and dread. “A connection? You think seducing the king’s daughter is a connection? Jason, if Viserys ever finds out—”

“He won’t,” Jason interrupted, his tone breezy. “The king practically beamed at the idea of me courting her. If anything, I’ve paved the way for an alliance.”

Tyland shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “You’re a fool,” he said flatly. “A reckless, arrogant fool.”

Jason smirked, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Perhaps. But I’m a fool who had the princess in his bed. And you,” he added with a pointed glance at Tyland, “are just jealous.”

Tyland’s lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at his brother. “I’m not jealous, Jason. I’m trying to keep you from ruining everything.”

“Relax, Tyland,” Jason said, his tone light and dismissive. “It’s all in good fun. And besides,” he added with a sly grin, “she liked it. Whether she admits it or not.”

Tyland groaned again, muttering something unintelligible as he spurred his horse forward, clearly done with the conversation. Jason chuckled to himself, utterly unbothered as he watched his twin ride ahead.

“Until next time, dear brother,” Jason murmured under his breath, his grin as wide as ever as he turned his thoughts back to the night before.

[captain-n-crunchies]

My #1

Teacher Izu x Black Chubby Girlfriend! Head canons

Deku, Izuku, Izu and all the works is no longer a hero but, doesn't mean he isn't a hero to others! As a teacher at UA and a support for his friends (Mei taught him a few things) he's still pretty much involved in the hero scene. And you a pretty known hero from the big ol' USA has graced his very eyes at a hero meet and greet, with your hair touched up and your hero suit shaping you nicely in all areas (that thang is thanging) you greet him with the prettiest smile he's ever seen.

" Hi!! I'm (hero name) also known as y/n l/n! You must be the Deku everyone buzzing about?" Izuku couldn't even respond but, the awed expression told a lot.

You and Izuku talk all night gossiping about the new ranks, talking about the new villains and how some have the most cringiest names, and random topics that intrigue the two heroes.

" I'm sorry I know that's your friend and all but, Is Bakugo really that loud normally"

" I've been with him since we were kids... yes, he can't stop it now"

" I heard he's number 24 in rankings, he gotta do better with that attitude"

" I told him, it goes through one ear and explodes mid translation"

Yeah, Izuku already stated his shit talking early on but, who can disagree? You two made it through thew night exchanging numbers professionally and personally. Izuku goes home with a bigger smile than normal when he gets a text from you ' Just checking in, you made it yet?'

Teacher Izuku who always calls you his break, eating your homemade Katsudon as he talks about the kids and his day "

" Today Kota got into fight with a kid from class C"

" Oh no! did he win?"

" Love, as a teacher I can't reveal such things!" .... "In your words, He whooped some ass"

Teacher Izuku who during his classes always includes a story from his fighting days about the heroes of today, the stories are never off topic though. A story about Bakugou is connected to the fact that if you don't kick the enemy in the ankle at a 45-degree angle you'll end up with a broken arm??

Teacher Izuku who records his students training from the beginning of the year to the end so they can see they're progress. He records with a camera set up and everything and makes sure to protect them. At the end of the year, he takes them out and shows them as final lesson about growth and how practice made him and everyone who they are today.

Teacher Izuku can never get enough of the student drama, because he's so chill and funny they think he's like a student too! yes, Izuku knows who wrote Susie from class 1-B is fighting Terry after school... and yes heard about Awaiza and Ms. Joke going out on Friday

Teacher Izuku who deals with bullying of other students very seriously, from snide comments about they're training, taking points off assignments for little things, even having a talk with the student to see why at the big age they are is bullying somebody?

Teacher Izuku who keeps snacks for his students in the mini drawer in his desk, having all types of snacks for sale too during tournaments and seasons

" I got snickers for $2 and pop tarts for $1.50"

" What about a dollar and 25 cents for the pop tart and I clean the classroom for the day?

" ... Deal, make sure to get the closet with the cobwebs for a bag of chips"

"NO WAY!"

Teacher Izuku who comes home to you tired and drained every day, but he brightens when sees you in your night shirt and slippers, watching tv and looking so relaxed he wonders how he got so lucky

Teacher Izuku who for date nights takes you to a nice restaurant and orders your favorite dishes, he needs to keep you nice and fed if he wants that big family his mom wants and himself begs for!

Teacher Izuku who does spa days with you either a luxury spa or at home as a nice treat for defeating a huge villain or him after just going thought it a week before exams. He takes you to Target for facial masks, serums for his skin, hair care items so his curls can at least curl more. You do his nails with clear polish, and he oils your scalps with big warm hands

Teacher Izuku who watches all your binge worthy shows with you, commenting on if the show is good or just have good actors

Teacher Izuku can never get enough of cooking dates, baking dates, anything with food he wants in! Making fresh pasta from scratch so y'all can make alfredo, making sugar cookies of each other as he wipes icing on your nose with a chuckle always resulting in him covered in icing.

Teacher Izuku who wakes up late at night with flashbacks of the war, he faces sweating and hands clammy feeling tiny sparks of black wipe as he tries to calm done, he always huddles closer to you holding you tight before he whispers tiny words of conformation in your ear. Always promising he'll protect with every last bit of strength he has, pushing himself at training days with Bakugo to be better for your sake, for your future children's sake

Teacher Izuku who on bad days at his job, stressed out in the quite classroom he just sits there waiting for the hours to end but when he sees you waving in the hallways for him to open the door with a bag of his favorite treats his smile finally shows, he bounces more, he remembers just why he keeps going

( I wrote this while listening to splatoon music. I love being childish)

[nervouslywaitingforlife]

I FUCKING love anime, as below, one of these characters is 17, another is 12, another 9 and another is 69 (nice). And your gut instinct is 100% wrong for which one is which.

[al-luviec]

compiled whatever this is (and I run out of tag space)

meh HoT gifs (3/?)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent images I suppose ~

[skitskatdacat63]

There's this nearly 4 hour movie I've been meaning to watch for a while and I was like "ah maybe ill watch it tonight hehe 🥰" and then I remember...quali is at 9 🫠

[fceriestcrdst]

my autistic ass avoided watching the x-files because i knew it would consume me....

& now here i am fully consumed even though I've only watched the first few handful of episodes of s1 (i'm regaining spoons needed for media consumption), but let me tell you w h a t!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was so excited i started crying because it combines unbridled pining, a skeptic & her believer husband partner, true crime, weird mythology, aliens (which i already knew abt obvi), unlikely besties who are prepared to square up at all times (re; scully being cold towards the agents mocking mulder & mulder being ready to fight g o d whenever anything happens to scully).

i just love the show a lot & i expected this but goddamn!!!!!! it's wormed into my spin category & now my alien spin is returning along with my 'unexplained happenings spin!!!!! i'm being consumed i tell you!!!!

[waterberry-strawmelon]

i don't know how to put this into words exactly, but The Bear feels so big to me. it reminds me of something i feel like ive forgotten. a dream i once had. idk. im trying to make this sound poetic or profound but what i really mean to say is please go watch The Bear.

[no-144444]

my girl- (o.piastri no.81)

---------------------

---------------------

summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)

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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa  (F2 -> F1)

---------------------

Clip 1: Prema video 

Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March. 

“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane. 

“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”

“The plane is landing, idiot!”

“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”

Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior. 

As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her. 

“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!” 

Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.” 

Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”

“No way I have any chance with her, I-”

“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself. 

He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed. 

---------------------

Clip 2: Sky Sports channel

Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March 

“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!” 

“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line. 

“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar. 

“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”

“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”

---------------------

“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said. 

Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”

“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”

Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”

“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled. 

---------------------

Clip 3: Prema video

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.

“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”

Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching. 

“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”

“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”

Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.

“What?” Oscar laughed.

“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked. 

Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)

“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed. 

“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned. 

“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you. 

---------------------

Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video. 

Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England. 

“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”

“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead. 

Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."

Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”

Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you. 

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”

Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”

He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him. 

“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”

Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them. 

“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin. 

“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.

“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.

“Yes!” they all answered. 

---------------------

As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go. 

“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film. 

“I can help,” Oscar whispered. 

You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled. 

“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?

“Fine,” you smiled. 

You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave. 

“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.

“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss. 

He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”

You chuckled. “Yes.”

Oscar was elated. 

---------------------

Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage

Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd. 

You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest. 

You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled. 

“Feels good, huh?” you smirked. 

“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.

“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.

---------------------

Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage

 Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race. 

“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!” 

Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall. 

“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said. 

“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace. 

“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”

“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly. 

“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car. 

As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”

“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”

Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified. 

“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright. 

“Is there any news yet?”

“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen. 

“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked. 

“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved. 

---------------------

Clip 6: Prema video

ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.

You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over. 

“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back. 

“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”

You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”

Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh. 

---------------------

Clip 7: Prema footage

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December

“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!” 

You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it. 

The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person. 

Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on. 

“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.  

You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet. 

“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”

And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on. 

He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”

You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss. 

---------------------

Clip 8: Prema footage

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December 

He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible. 

You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won. 

“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away. 

“Thanks baby,” he smiled. 

---------------------

Post-race interview

“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked. 

“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.

---------------------

Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel 

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1. 

“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”

You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.

“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”

“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”

“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go. 

---------------------

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!” 

“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy. 

“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”

“Great driver,” he added. 

You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.

“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”

You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled. 

You laughed. “It suits you.”

He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back. 

---------------------

Clip 10: Prema video 

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy. 

You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably. 

You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off. 

“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles. 

“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”

The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!” 

“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again. 

---------------------

Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November 

“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n  Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”

You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it. 

You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard. 

“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours. 

You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osc.”

---------------------

Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023. 

“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!” 

 Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so. 

He was in awe of you. 

He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him. 

“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.

“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled. 

“You were amazing out there,” he smiled. 

---------------------

Clip 13: McLaren video 

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 

“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”

Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”

“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”

“But it’s the truth!”

“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?” 

“Max Fewtrell?” 

Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”

Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”

Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him. 

“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek. 

“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself. 

“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him. 

“Bad flight?”

“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you. 

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?” 

You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself. 

“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview. 

“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked. 

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

---------------------

Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog

Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023 

“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling. 

---------------------

Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram

Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”

As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him. 

“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled. 

“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!” 

“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”

“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”

---------------------

You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them. 

---------------------

Nicole Piatri’s instagram live 

“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up. 

“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed. 

Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile. 

He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-" 

You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”

“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled. 

“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal. 

“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed. 

“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”

“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”

“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”

“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.

You both turned to Nicole with confused faces. 

“You’re still filming mum?!” 

This live has now been ended by the host. 

---------------------

Clip 16: Sky sports channel

​​Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar 

“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!” 

“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced. 

“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!” 

“I said P2 for you,” he reminded. 

“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together. 

“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid. 

“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard. 

“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed. 

---------------------

Post-sprint conference 

“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”

You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”

The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. 

“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh. 

“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face. 

“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”

The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face. 

---------------------

Clip 17: Drive to Survive 

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2. 

You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh. 

You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”

“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”

You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”

“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”

“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh. 

---------------------

Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!” 

You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend. 

“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”

“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”

“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed. 

---------------------

“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced. 

“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?” 

“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled. 

“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it. 

He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him. 

“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”

“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. 

His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”

Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care. 

You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.

---------------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[toytulini]

Its just. a truck. a shit ass truck, that sucks shit more than any other trucks on the road rn, which is impressive considering how bad modern trucks are. definitely not a sedan. not a van, its not a hatchback, its not an suv. It's got a bed for sure, even if its covered, they sell ? pickups with covered beds, or covers to put over the bed of a pickup you already own, to protect the bed. these exist. they dont turn the truck into a sedan or a van or an suv. Its just a extraordinarily shitty truck. It is a truck that sucks worse than any other truck you can buy rn which, as a truck hater, and a hater of cars made after like, 20teens at the latest, who thinks all trucks are disgusting and awful, is already a low bar. I'm not sure I get what we're doing here. Its just a truck that sucks. theres plenty of shit about it to make fun of it for relentlessly, theres no shortage of material here, you dont need to disparage the good name of any other these other vehicles, especially not a sedan, our last bastion left in usamerica against the ever encroaching light truck category taking over completely, since compacts and sub-compacts arent really available here anymore, not new models anyway.

Its a bad shitty truck, that is designed to live exclusively in the mildest, dryest, of climates with no weather at all, with a dedicated garage, and never do anything more strenuous than transport groceries for a single generic cishet nuclear family with 2.5 kids.

wait a sec. the cybertruck aint even a truck. it aint even a van, there's only the two rows of seating. mf's a sedan with angles

[rambles-about-minecraft-ocs]

theres something so funny to me when hermits are talking about redstone and theyre like "and then theres an etho hopper clock here-"

like. of course they use etho hopper clocks, itd be weirder if they actively avoided using it, considering its like. a redstone thingy that is very useful and still works even after all this time, and from what i understand it was like. a pretty big deal in terms of useful things you could do with redstone back when he first made it because it opened up ways to do even more things with redstone

and like for the most part theyve probably been referring to that particular thing as an etho hopper clock for longer than theyve even known etho personally, considering the etho hopper clock predates his joining hermitcraft by at least 1-2 years, and several of the other hermits joining hermitcraft by even more. so of course they still call it that

on a related note, most of them likely had at least heard of etho before meeting him, even if they didnt personally watch him (tho i know some did) since he was an old school minecraft youtuber. like his original season 1 of "lets play minecraft" started when minecraft was so new it hadnt been officially released yet. literally back in minecraft alpha. he was a minecraft youtuber OG

so with those two points taken into consideration it completely makes sense that "etho hopper clock" is something ingrained into the terminology of anyone that does stuff with redstone somewhat regularly. theres no reason it wouldnt be

but when you put it into contrast with like. their actual interactions with etho. it kind of cracks me up???

its like. in my head the vibes are this: imagine building something and being like "okay guys, for this machine we need to use an archimedes screw, which is named of course after its inventor archimedes, a man so genius that to this day he is regarded as one of the most brilliant inventors and mathematicians to ever walk this earth" and then like thirty minutes later you go to a restaurant and you see archimedes, of classic antiquity fame, trying to eat a sandwich but the ingredients keep falling out in increasingly comedic manners. so you of course call him pathetic to his face, and then ask if he wants to try out your new totally-not-a-scam product that you carry on you at all times for opportunities like these. and for some reason he doesnt just say yes, but buys two

[thetruthbetween]

My dash is making me wanna watch The X-Files again

[iceunhie]

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX !

# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

[5sospenguinqueen]

But I Love Him | Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: Oscar Piastri’s girlfriend is Danny Ric’s biggest fan. When Oscar announces he’s signing for McLaren, she’s not sure how to react. 

Warnings: Fluff. Crack fic

Only a small one. Inspired by Nicole Piastri’s hilarious podcast appearance. Did I push back my scheduled posts in favour of this sudden smau? Yes

20233-2023 season

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

2021

mclaren just posted

liked by yn_ln, landonorris and others

mclaren what a race 🏆 an amazing drive from our honey badger

10,333 comments

landonorris great race, mate

yn_ln that’s my driver! 

→ oscarpiastri love you too

→ yn_ln shush, daniel might see this and then think we’re dating

→ oscarpiastri we are dating

→ yn_ln you’re ruining my chances

markwebber skills

→ yn_ln lovely, wonderful, talented mark. fancy spoiling a girl and getting her danny ric merch?

→ oscarpiastri you don’t talk like that to me

→ yn_ln because i have to deal with you leaving your wet towels on the bed

→  yn_ln plus all your merch is alpine

→ user1 she's so real for that tho

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

2022

yn_ln welp, there go my chances of meeting danny ric if you’re not going to be an f1 driver

→ danielricciardo i’m sure we’ll both be in aus at the same time in the future ;)

→ yn_ln omg he talked to me. oscar, he talked to me! 

→ oscarpiastri yup, i can see that

→ yn_ln why don’t you care?! 

logansargeant that’s one way to break the news 

→ yn_ln he’s so dramatic isn’t he

→ user2 why is oscar still with her? she’s so mean to him

→ user3 it's called banter. try it some time, babe

aussiegrit never a dull day with you 

→ yn_ln at least you get to hear about this beforehand. the alpine announcement shook me

→ oscarpiastri um, it shook me too? 

→ yn_ln do you need me to stroke your hair again? 

→ aussiegrit @/yn_ln you're no better

nicolepiastri your girlfriend is distraught that you didn’t consult her before being a drama queen. i raised you better than this 

→ yn_ln 🤍🤍

→ oscarpiastri beaten for #1 child by my own girlfriend

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by yn_ln, logansargeant and others

oscarpiastri it’s official 

6,981 comments

yn_ln but i love daniel…

→ oscarpiastri i know. everyone does

→ yn_ln but i love him the most 

→ oscarpiastri i know

→ user4 bit weird that you’re not congratulating him

fernandoalo_official amazing news. can’t wait to see you on track 

user5 mclaren are so messy for using an alpine pic

user6 okay but hello mr piastri. i was not familiar with your game

→ user7 yn saw the vision when she fell for him years ago

→ yn_ln c’mon guys, he was cute before 

→ oscarpiastri i’m still cute now!

→ yn_ln no, now you’re hot

→ oscarpiastri oh 🤭

→ landonorris fuck me, is this what i have to deal with now?

→ logansargeant yes

→ arthur_leclerc yes

→ frederikvestiofficial yes

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2023

yn_ln just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, frederikvestiofficial and others 

yn_ln hubby’s first f1 race weekend (but more importantly, i met THE daniel ricciardo. and he was wearing his best colours)

3,813 comments

oscarpiastri i thought this was going to be a really sweet post and then

→ landonorris i actually watched his smile fall 

→ yn_ln he’s in love with you now. it’s your responsibility to brush his hair and promise him he’s special 

→ oscarpiastri between you and my mother, i don’t think i’ll ever have a comfortable day on the internet 

danielricciardo i took really nice photos with you, and you post this one? 

→ yn_ln please don’t be mad at me. i cry easily 

oscarpiastri it’s bad enough that the world knows daniel is your favourite driver. can you at least pretend mclaren is your favourite team?

→ yn_ln go papaya! 

→ yn_ln love you, pookie 

→ oscarpiastri love you too, sweetheart

→ user8 the fact that no matter how hard she bullies him, he can never NOT say i love you back

aussiegrit proud of our boy 

→ yn_ln me too! 

→ oscarpiastri say it to my face, you coward

→ user9 how is oscar so sweet and introverted in interviews but then we see him like this on his girlfriend’s insta

→ oscarpiastri she brings out the demon in me

danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others 

danielricciardo stole my seat so i stole your girl tagged: oscarpiastri, yn_ln

4,303 comments 

arthur_leclerc i bet he’s crying in his driver’s room

logansargeant i joked about stealing her once and he hit me with a wrench 

frederikvestiofficial i made her laugh once and he bit me 

landonorris @/mclaren are you seeing this? i think i want a new teammate 

user10 pr are screaming

→ user11 they do anytime yn comments on things

oscarpiastri keep her

→ yn_ln oi! 

→ yn_ln i mean… he did give you permission 

→ logansargeant where was this treatment for us?

→ oscarpiastri i’m fed up of her now. i still had hope back then

maxverstappen1 i thought we were forever 

→ yn_ln you can’t beat my devotion to him

→ maxverstappen1 no but i can beat your devotion to your boyfriend 

→ yn_ln eh

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, aussiegrit and others

oscarpiastri she loves me really

4,811 comments

yn_ln my whole 💕

→ oscarpiastri i love you lots  

→ yn_ln you know you’re my favourite guy forever

landonorris can confirm that they are disgustingly in love around the paddock 

→ yn_ln you’re just jealous because you keep trying to steal him

danielricciardo i was stood next to them once and she didn’t even glance at me because oscar was making her laugh 

→ nicolepiastri he’s not even funny 

→ yn_ln don’t say these things. you’ll ruin my reputation as danny ric stan #1

user12 he’s not beating the orange cat allegations 

→ user13 not with all the comments over the years of her stroking his hair to make him feel better

logansargeant bro relax. no one’s going to take her from you 

→ oscarpiastri daniel’s rejoined red bull. her favourite driver is back with her favourite team. i have to stake my claim 

→ yn_ln when he gets possessive 😍

→ arthur_leclerc 🤮🤮

frederikvestiofficial i thought not being in f1 meant i could escape this. get it off my fyp